#and have seriously studied this stuff for YEARS because its my job and has been

[ndntighnari]

This is definitely just a petty pet peeve, I know, and I don't mean this in a condescending way when I say it, but as someone who has been a professional character designer and illustrator -- as in I've been paid for it and hired by people to design characters and do illustrations as a freelancer -- for the better part of the last... 7 years, given a rough estimate, it really frustrates me hearing 16 and 17 year olds claim that they've been character designers or illustrators for 10 years.

Like, I'm genuinely glad they see their designing as experience!! Because it is!! But when I'm talking from a professional POV, using knowledge I've learned on the job, with techniques and the like that I've trained and honed in a professional paid for sense, and I suddenly get a "yeah I mean I've got 10 years experience" from a 17 year old its like... Please take me seriously, kid. I've been making character designs since I was 6, that does not mean I have 16 years experience as a character designer. There's a difference between professional experience and having fun making characters as a kid, and unfortunately the latter does not get you credibility in the professional field. I wish it did, but there is in fact a vast difference between the two.

This also goes for when I hear people who are hobbyist go "you don't need to learn the basics of art! You don't need to study anatomy or lighting or x y z fundamental!" because on some level I do agree! You can get into art without studying those things. However do not bitch and whine when your art doesn't look how you wanted it to when you refuse to learn colour theory. You need to know the rules before you can break them, is a rule of thumb I have with art.

This is largely just a vent post about people not taking me or my advice even remotely seriously with art btw. I'm often asked for advice on art and then told im wrong or that they know better despite being younger and/or less professionally experienced. It's just really frustrating, because I try to give positive feedback, as well as constructive criticism, but whenever I ask people for art advice, I'll typically get incredibly subjective opinions on what they find looks better. And it's like I am asking for what techniques here work vs don't not if you think the character would look better with fangs or cat ears.

[queensilber]

Supernatural: Nevermore

Review time! I actually finished reading this a while ago and just didn't get around to posting the review, but here you go!

.

Summary:

Sam and Dean go to New York to help a friend of Ash with a ghost problem. Said friend is a rocker with a music collection that Dean totally freaks over (further down in this review I have a songlist of the mentioned music, too) and they get to stay at that guy's place while taking care of the problem. There is also a murder spree based on the works of Edgar Allen Poe going on in the area and the boys are solving two cases parallelly.

My experience:

I loved this. It was so fun, the vibe was great, i had a great time! This is actually the first book in the series and I should have read it before witchs canyon, but it doesnt matter too much.

Also, the book starts on a 12th of november, wich is my birthday, so thats cool.

Music list:

Okay, so, because of the plot with the Band, there is a LOT of music in this. I‘m now just and only gonna list the things Dean either has on tape or said that he loves it. Some are songs, some are Bands and some are albums, its listed chronologically after appearance rather than what it is… (sorry)

Deep purple „smoke on the water“

Metallica

Led Zeppelin "Whole lotta love"

Van Morrison "Caravan"

Jethro Tull "For a thousand Mothers"

"Cocaine"

"Ramblin' man"

"Rock on"

"Freebird"

Queensrÿche "Operation Mindcrime"

Dark side of the moon

the Animals

House of the holy

Dressed to Kill

The who "by Numbers"

"Thick as a brick"

"in-a-gadda-di-vida"

the Big Pink

Great so let's continue,

Quotes and Random Facts

"Then again, Sam sometimes thought he didn't have the same attachment to his late girlfriend Jessica that Dean had to the Impala"

"In fact, Sam's skills at lying - both in therms of pretending to be someone else and also misleading people as to the true nature of his life and of the world itself - had been one of the things that attracted him to the law" < in reference to why he studied law at Stanford.

"Squirming in the passenger seat, Sam thought, 'I swear to god, if he starts petting the Dashboard again, I'm walking to New York" < in reference to Dean and the impala

there is also a reference to Sherlock Holmes and my post-it to that was like "Superwholock?" so yea, do with that as you will.

Sam and Jess once went to San Fransisco and did all cute tourist stuff there.

"Cassie was a Subscriber" < Dean telling Sam why he know stuff about animal magazines. he is referring to Cassie Robinson.

"He loved his brother more than anything in the world" < Dean about Sam

Dean had nightmares about people burning on ceilings like his mom did and those people were: Mary, Jessica, Cassie, Sarah, Ellen, Jo and Sam.

"Sam (...), he'd drunk hot sulfur once, by accident during a job, and he wasn't eager to repeat the experience."

"'I assume you took so long 'cause you were hitting on the bartender' he grinned. 'He didn't strike me as your type.'" < Sam about Dean, referring to the male bartender. Deans answer: "Funny boy."

"Dean looked over at his brother. Now he had on his instant face. Dean hated the insistent face, because Sam only used it when he was arguing with him. As opposed to when he argued with Dad. That was always the angry face"

Sam likes Gin and Tonic. Dean is appalled by that.

"Sam looked at Dean. Without any sign or facial indication, Sam knew that his brother agreed they should check upstairs next"

Dean just takes random pictures of Sam sleeping

John actually signed all the paperwork Sam needed to go to Stanford for the first year and Sam got them to declare him independent for the next years. Dean is in absolute shock over that and so am I. that conversation is too long for me to put in all in here, but damn it made me cry.

"'my life is seriously screwed up', he thought with amusement" <Dean, obviously.

"When he was a kid, about eleven years old, he used to go looking for cars that had 'no Radio in car' signs on them. He'd take a removable radio, of a type that was very popular at the time, and throw it as hard as he could at the car window with a note wrapped around it that read 'Now you have one'" < I love Dean so much

Dean hates rubber gloves

"'I just love Mexican Standoffs,' Dean thought"

Sooo that's about all I got for you about this book, can highly recommend it, it was better than Witches canyon, even though I liked that one too very much.

I will link the next one, once I'm done with it!

<First , Next>

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi it's career advice anon

i'm seriously considering corporate law and i think i might like it

i was thinking about what you said about choosing a career that will make me happy and the truth is, i don't know. for the last six years since third grade i've always thought i'd do aerospace engineering and that's what i've told everyone and now that i'm actually considering something else, it's scary because i genuinely don't know what i'm going to do without it. the worst part is that i'm always second guessing myself now because i changed my mind about what i want to do after so many years so how do i even know if whatever choice i'm making rn is the right one? and every time i think that i'm sure about dropping aerospace, i start thinking that maybe i could actually excel at it. but i don't even remember the last time i was interested in finding out stuff about space and its physics.

the other part, which is somehow even harder than the actual decision, is telling people about it. i've always been the one who's had my life figured out and now i suddenly don't. it's not that my family won't support my decision but there will be comments and they'll be somewhat disappointed. my friends will be supportive probably, and my best friend has honestly encouraged me to leave stem when i mentioned that i might want to leave stem behind for good. there's another problem which is this person that i know and we're not exactly friends but i know what she wants to do and her goals and ambitions better than most people. she has always wanted to be a lawyer and go to our country's top law university. if i actually decide to take law, she's going to be shocked bc she has never really seen me as competition before because she knew that i wanted to do aerospace but in two years she'll find out about my change of mind in our legal studies class and i don't really want to be her rival but she's the type of person to sabotage her competition so she won't really listen to much reason. and if i'm going to do law, i want to go to the best university in our country for it, which is her dream college. i'm not going to not take law because of it, but i'm just afraid that she'll see it as me stealing her dream, especially because the college is very selective and takes only 120 students a year.

i don't know how to make a concrete decision which i won't second guess because my life plan might turn upside down with this decision and if i do make one which isn't aerospace, i don't know how to break it to my parents

Honestly, I think (as hard as it is) it's important not to worry about what others think. It's YOUR life, not theirs. You're making a decision YOU need to be comfortable with. Fuck everyone else.

If you have a list of a few possible choices, could you try to find some people with those careers and ask them some questions about their jobs? Like...think about what's important to you: money, time in school, job availability, free time outside of work, etc, and then ask these people what those things are like in their jobs. See if the jobs line up with your priorities. It might help!

[dausy]

Think I'm in a lazy phase where I have free time and don't know what to do with myself and then I just don't feel like doing anything. I have a One Line A Day book where you journal what you did that day briefly and boy had I not touched in a month and didn't document much elsewhere for me to remember what I've done to fill it in.

I'm ignoring my youtube even though I filmed stuff, I just don't feel like editing.

My back hurts, my stomach hurts, my head usually hurts in-between and I feel sleepy and fatigued even though I have no issues sleeping. My hair quit falling out though. I don't know if I just had a huge hormone shift or what. For a while I was really concerned about the hair falling out in chunks. I went ahead and rescheduled my doctors appointment. She said she wanted to follow up ages ago and I never went. I just dont know what to say other than the above. I don't feel like I eat terribly and I dont want to take medication. I'm just getting old.

My husbands immediate family are having some issues, some health problems and then he's stressed out with retirement. He has had a couple job interviews and job opportunities, so its not like he's unhirable. But its still just stressful and we're looking at the cost of living of everything and life just seems unfair when it seems like we should be walking on easy street. No reason why an experienced RN and a 20year retired military vet shouldn't be able to have any stereotypical American white-picket-fence home of choosing but lord its bleak out there.

I finished FF16 and I was impressed with its beginning, but it was just super short and the farted and sizzled its way out on its way to finish. Overall feeling was "meh". I plan to get Visions of Mana at the end of the month. So heres to hoping.

I did read The September House because I was in a spoopy mood. I've barely read anything this year. I read that really fast. Kinda enjoyed it. I really want to decorate for Halloween but we will be moving so we don't get one this year.

I'm enjoying threads for my short sentence social media posting. I actually get lots of interaction on it.

oh and I took my exam for my CAPM cert. Studying for that was filling in a lot of my free time and now its finished. Exam was definitely easier, like I had hoped. I had a feeling all the studying and practice exams were going to be really hard and then the real exam would seem simple in comparison and I was correct. Seriously considering doing a career shift and starting in an entry level position to utilize this cert but change in scary. But otherwise it was just something "fun" to do because I enjoy stationery and being a student. I used all the pretty pens and notebooks.

anywho, think we are driving back to Phoenix in a few weeks to visit my husbands family since they arent doing to well. We may go to the grand canyon. And then my mom and MiL are flying down to visit for my husbands retirement ceremony. My husbands been turning in his army gear. We have to go get living wills made while its free to us. I applied for a government job and I'm updating my resumes and linked in.

Just goin with the flow.

[sombervibez]

Dear 2023,

Its the month of June now meaning we are officially halfway through this year. The day im writing this is exactly one month from my 20th birthday. And 60 days prior in a desperate hopeful state i had made goals that i had to achieve but i haven't done even a single one of them. I blame mostly on me, my lack motivation and just a pile of excuses but some of it i blame on the situation around me. Its not the worst thing ever happened to a human but it is something heavily impacting me. Firstly something the end of last year and the beginning of this year brought on was a lost of friendship. A really special one because i had invested a lot. And i hate the way i feel rn. I do not want to make these walls anymore but i have to cause lord that friend broke a lot more i was trying to build. I can't confront that friend because it's so evident they want to leave and for the last bit of my sanity i do want to break in a sob before them. I hate how none of this matters to them at all while it's killing me from inside. I am trying to get over them but no one tells you how hard getting over a friendship can be. Worst part is i live with them and I'll have to stay for the next another year. Another one of my friends did something that broke me. I had vented to them about my concern but later on they sided on with someone else on the same issue. I do not know whether they tune me out or what but it did not help when i feel like everyone is going to betray me. Since we are still talking about my shit luck at friendships my best friend doesn't take me being bisexual seriously like idk and there have been incidents where i do not know what to say because i can't force my opinions on people and i just feel so fucking lonely all the time.

Secondly, in the family department, i met my family after 5 months it was long time. I love my family we have disagreements but regardless i love them and my dad just got a promotion and got transferred to this big city where his workload is a lot and his superiors are shit. He has lost the purpose of working and he so stressed and I'm just afraid of any negative impact on his health. I was there with my mom we moved to a new space bought stuff. He wants to resign from his job and i know this is selfish of me but I'm still studying and that's puts me in a place i never thought I'd be in. I have to an adult quickly i have to think about earning now rather than following my more altruistic and time consuming dreams. I love my dad with all my heart and if he wants to quit for his health i will support him but this a change for me i will have to change so much. And there are other things that i don't want to share of think of that makes situations worse.

I have brother who will soon get a job but the thing is he has slightly expensive tastes while i had to always settle for the cheap stuff or the hand me downs and idk for some reason when all of this is happening to me all at once i can't help but pity myself a little because I've always tried to be the good girl, i don't play around or do drugs, i listen to my parents and just i hate that in the time where i just wanted to be a teen for the last time I have all this going on.

This was my recap of this year until now. I hope the next 6 months are kinder to me and my family.

[beaubambabey]

I literally feel like I can't breathe and I don't know what to do anymore. All I know is I feel like I want to die. Like, seriously genuinely die not the everyday suicidal jokey "lol my life sux" shit I do

My life is over its fucking over and I'm never gonna be able to get out of this situation unless I die

My dad lost his job at the start of the year. I agreed to try and find a higher paying job to help out. That didn't pan out. I tried to do two jobs. Hated every second I was at the other jobs. Quit them. Couldn't get the hours I had prior to searching for a new job back. Didn't know what to say to my boss because all that was in my head was my dad telling me how I needed to get a better job. At least I had a fucking job.

Both my parents have been disparaging the part time jobs I've worked while living with them. They complain about everything, from it being "too far away" (it's less than 10 miles away) to how much I get paid (minimum wage but it's increased. And is much higher than the national average even though the cost of living here is astronomical) to what I bring home (food I want to eat and store in the house/smells/attitude). I wouldn't be working these part time jobs if they'd helped me make college work better for me. Or, if my mom's story (casually dropped years ago, no way to get the truth out of her because I don't know if she's ever told the truth about anything) about how she could've put me on medication as a child, I would've actually gotten a college degree by now.

They say they're proud of me but it always feels superficial. My brother has a master's degree and a good job. I never moved out and have credit card debt.

They complain that I never show them my art, but then when I try to open myself up they either brush me off or completely change the subject.

I don't have a place in this house. I am seen but not heard. I'm a child and will always be a child but at least I'm making them money, huh.

When I was a child I wanted to dance. Not Indian dance, like my mom did. Jazz dance. Tap dance. I loved dancing, and it made me happy. My mom hated that she was paying money for something that wasn't helping me lose weight. Hated that she was paying for something that wouldnt make me into a tiny version of her. I quit dance to focus on acting, because at least I wouldn't need to be skinny and act, right? But then I quit acting to focus on school. I barely graduated high school, and most of it was because my dad screamed me through writing essays for school. "We loved you so much and wanted you to do everything" You didn't love me. You don't love me, you love the idea of me and abhor the creature you created and can't face this reality. To this day, I can't bring myself to write anything academic without self-harming.

If I wasnt going to act or dance, I thought fine art could be something. I drew, I honed my craft, I learned, I studied. It used to be something I was passionate about. I fucked up along the way. I can't let myself pretend that I finish things. I delude myself into thinking I can do so much that when reality hits and I'm suddenly locked in mental loops that leave me stuck I've already fucked up and let people down. I lost the passion for art during lockdown. Less because of circumstances, more because I fucked up and fucked over other people. The obligations to those people and righting those wrongs held me back from drawing, because I couldn't allow myself to move forward without finishing out those obligations. And yet, it took me so long to find the wherewithal to get it done that years had gone by. Being diagnosed with ADHD was too little too late. I should've either been given Ritalin as a child or euthanized.

I tried streaming again in the hopes it would motivate me to draw more. Hoping I could design some new stuff to put on my store. It did help, while it lasted. My internet was shit the entire time I tried, so I gave up since the only time I had the energy to stream was the same time my parents were watching shit on streaming services. I only learned a few days ago that we don't even have unlimited streaming bandwidth and everything I've been doing has just cost my family more money.

Maybe I shouldn't have taken a vacation. Maybe I should've just worked through the month. Maybe I never should have even thought about having fun. Maybe I should never have fun or give myself a break. Maybe that would work for them. Maybe they want to wring me out of every cent I make. If I can't afford to eat food that I actually want to eat then I'll eat less and get skinny. If I can't afford to do anything then I'll never leave. If I can't afford to leave then I'll keep making money for them.

I want to jump out of this fucking window that they never bothered putting a screen on. Maybe if they found my body in the dirt on the side of the house rotting in the freezing cold with the neighbor's lemons it would knock some sense into them. Nothing I've ever done or said ever has. To them, I'm just some little retard child they brought into the world and kept as proof that they're capable.

There is no joy or passion in my heart anymore. Everything is a desperate delusion to escape this hell I live in. I'm a burden to myself and others. I will never be free.

[ruminativerabbi]

The Simchat Torah War - One Week In

I was a college senior in 1973 when the Yom Kippur War broke out and I can remember all too well the shock and dismay that permeated not only the big Jewish world out there but also my own synagogue community and my own circle of family and friends as the first terrible days of the war unfolded on our television screens. But as the tide turned quickly and it became increasingly clear that Israel would yet again vanquish its enemies, that dread lifted and was replaced—and replaced easily—by my customary confidence in the future, by my faith in God’s watchful and protective guardianship of the people Israel, and by my certainty that, in the end, good always wins out over evil. If I had been temporarily uncertain, my trust in the future snapped back into place almost instantly.

I was busy preparing myself that fall for the entry exams you had to pass back in the day to be admitted to rabbinical school at JTS. And my studies in the course of the  rest of the year only appeared to support that trust that sprung up so automatically for me once the tide turned and Israel’s victory seemed certain. Indeed, the more I read to prepare for my exams, the more certain I became that the course of the war had merely mirrored the larger course of Jewish history. Yes, we’ve known nights of unimaginable sadness. But then dawn breaks and the sky is filled again with light. The tide ebbs, but soon flows back. A remnant always survives, always returns, always re-asserts its right to chart the destiny of the Jewish people into the subsequent generation. My father’s joke about the difference between a Jewish optimist and a Jewish pessimist—the Jewish pessimist says, “Oy, things couldn’t get any worse,” to which the Jewish optimist responds, “Of course, they can. And will!”—seemed funny to me precisely because it so little mirrored how I perceived things really to be. The arc of Jewish history, I felt certain, always bends towards survival.

I have begun this letter a dozen different times. My original plan was to recount my memories of the Yom Kippur War in even more detail and then to assure you all that just as our enemies were vanquished then, so will they also be beaten now. I know everybody wants to hear that. And mostly I do write today to tell you all that—and not because it’s my personal job to cheer people up, but because that conviction regarding the inviolate destiny of Israel is too much a part of who I am to dissolve in even seriously bad news. I am, as always, a man of faith devoted both professionally and emotionally to the cultivation in others of the confidence in the destiny of the Jewish people that is so foundational to my own worldview and so much a part of who I am.

But this has been beyond challenging for me, this whole detour into hell that we have all been experiencing over this last week. I suppose part of that has to do with the degree to which the terrorists have somehow turned in my mind from merely violent thugs motivated by raged-based frustration into latter-day Nazis. And, indeed, the images and stories that have come out from the events of this last week would earlier on have been familiar to me only as the stuff of Shoah memoirs. But these stories, all verified and clearly true, are not made-up or embellished. And the first-hand accounts I’ve read—that we’ve all read—of young women being raped, of old people being dragged from their homes and killed, of babies being slaughtered, of young people at a desert concert being shot by the hundreds at point-blank range—these cannot be decried as mere crimes or acts of brutality. Nor do I see a way to explain any of this even as extreme political activism. After the events of last weekend, the enemy has surely lost all pretense merely to be acting forcefully to improve the lots of Gazans as the soldiers of Hamas takes their place in the history of the world as true monsters who have done their worst to destroy the Jewish people. Yes, I am more than aware that the Nazis were eventually vanquished, that they lost the war, that at least some Jewish people did end up surviving in every single country the Nazis occupied. I know all that. And yet I feel myself seized by a sense of dread that I am not quite sure how to justify or even explain.

Yes, the support that Israel has received—and especially from some unexpected quarters (including especially in Europe)—has been heartening. Even the New York Times managed to publish an editorial that was far more supportive of Israel than that newspaper has been in a very long time. President Biden’s and Secretary of State Blinken’s unequivocal statements of support meant a lot to me, as I’m sure it also did to all of you. (On the other hand, underlying all that heartening rhetoric is the certainty that, in the end, no amount of supportive rhetoric will mean anything if it is not accompanied by an equally solid commitment to deny Iran entry into the nuclear club.) Still, both the President and the Secretary of State did say the right thing and I have to give them credit for that. So did a lot of people—say the right thing in the course of this last week, I mean—but the real test, of course, will be to see if those lovely words are followed by action or not.

So that’s where I’ve been for most of this last week: buoyed by confidence and seized with dread, riven and subdivided like an actor impossibly hired to play two different roles on the same stage at the same time. (There’s a reason they don’t save money on Broadway by doing that: because it can’t actually be done.) But, in the end, I have to let what I know about Jewish history guide me forward.

I wish I could promise you all that this will somehow end well. I actually do think that, of course. But I also know that the journey from here to there is going to be long, painful, and beyond arduous. Our friends and family in Israel are mostly too old even for reserve duty, but their children and grandchildren—other than the ones who are actually in the middle of their military service—have more or less all been called up. I’ve been speaking to friends and family all week, and the message I’ve heard over and over has been more or less the same one: yihyeh tov, things will work out…but the journey from here to there is going to be grueling and challenging. And so, in the end, that is my message for all of you as well. Yihyeh tov.  This will end with a total defeat of Hamas, with the annihilation of its stores of menacing weaponry, with the restoration of Gaza to the actual people who live there and many of whom (click here) would be thrilled to live in peace with Israel and to prosper and thrive as their neighbors’ neighbors. The Saudis will eventually joint the Abraham Accords. The Palestinians will eventually realize that they can have their own state as soon as they are signal their right to nationhood by signaling their readiness make peace with making peace with the people next door. Hamas will join the Crusaders and the Cossacks and the Nazis in the dustbin of history. And the same God who makes peace on high will bless the world with peace as well.

And our job, as ever, is to remain staunch and steadfast in our support for the State of Israel. I can’t stress enough how important it is to write to the President and the people who represent us in Congress in support of Israel.  (Click here for guidance.) We need to give as much as we can manage to the charities that support the soldiers of the IDF and the civilian population of Israel. Most of all, we need to find the courage to reconstitute our riven selves into single-minded individuals possessed of faith in the future and confidence in the IDF. As I wrote above, I feel that riven-ness too, that uncertainty, that ill ease that we’re all feeling. But I plan to devote myself in these coming days and weeks to shucking it off, to re-integrating what I believe and what I know and what I hope to create the fully confident Jewish soul that I know myself capable of becoming, the one that is reflective of the truest me there is. The task in front of us all is a daunting one. I myself am on that journey as well. But if we travel together, we’ll at least have each other for company. And we’ll surely reach our destination with our faith and our trust intact.

[ntrvrtmango2]

STARTING OVER AGAIN

Hello! welcome to mango world!

first of all…

My name is Summer. I'm good at drawing and i'm freelancing at the moment as an illustrator. although i have been drawing since forever, i feel like i didn't improve at all. i don't have a distinguished art style and i suck at consistency. i'm losing confidence with my art skills and with myself too because i'm a self-loathing, insecure rotten mango.

i was doing so well with creating designs as a graphic designer at a brand marketing agency… until the 'pandemonium' hits and i lost my job. on the bright side, i didn't enjoy that job. i have absolutely no time doing what i love because i was always working overtime. i was underpaid and doing additional work which i didn't sign up for in the first place, plus, the owner of that company was somewhat of a psycho-- sorry i'm just ranting at this point.

ANYWAY, during the pandemonium, i tried doing what i really want to do, which is drawing and i decided to create a webcomic! but that didn't turn out well either. i was so focused on materializing it without planning ahead that it turned out like a piece of garbage. i lost my motivation and abandoned it. i apologize to my 4k+ subs, i let you down 😭 But i'm not giving up on it just yet, i'm currently doing a revamp, getting to know my characters, working on the world-building stuff, and writing manuscript drafts little by little. it might take a while before it comes to life.

sooooo while i do that, i'm also on my youtuber-wannabe era because it's trendy-- jk. but seriously, i just want to create random animations that, hopefully, will entertain people who might be feeling down for sometime or who are just bored and in need of something to turn their attention to. just like what i intended on my webcomic but this time, it's animation. also, i want to make it as a sort of source of income too if it goes well... crossing my fingers!

i love animation! i've been wanting to animate ever since my weeb era back in high school. it's the reason why i wanted to take up animation course in the first place but sadly, i ended up taking multimedia arts instead because reasons… i know, taking up mma has its perks too but i'm just sad because there are so much to learn in so little time- yknow what i mean?? i felt like i only learned the basics of Adobe Flash in the span of 4 years. -- tells you how old i am 😳

so now, i'm studying animation again! going back to basics one more time and this is where i will be sharing my animation journey- like a diary, where nobody i know irl will see muwahahaHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA

just a disclaimer, i'm a self-taught kind of gal cause my freelancing ass can't afford online classes just yet soooo you will notice that i don't follow a curriculum or anything. i will just be doing some fun exercises i can find on youtube and elsewhere for free.

and of course, there's no way to start animation without learning the neverending bouncing ball!

[bsdndprplplld]

yes, this, but also among other stem courses in a typical school, math is taken the most seriously. idk about other countries, but in poland in highschool people study chemistry, biology, physics and geography only if they decide to take the advanced final exams in these subjects. with math, everyone has take the standard level exam, so it can't be ignored like other subjects

up to highschool everyone has to complete their share of stem courses, but with the subjects other than math, the teachers often allow students to pass by memorizing the theory or by making some extra projects to earn points. with math you can't do that. when someone struggles with physics, the teacher sometimes says "alright, next year you won't have to study physics, so just learn those formulas and definitions and write them down on a test and I will let you pass". in math this is not an option, the student will have to take n more years of math courses

also, math mainly requires learning new skills, not just new information. many people never memorize the "dry theory" in highschool, because you have access to a reference table of formulas during exams and your job is only to know where to use those formulas – no need to memorize anything. but this does not come naturally to everyone and I think a huge part of the problem is teaching people how to work on their problem solving skills. I tutored a few students who believed they were bad at math and their mindset was "I can solve this type of problem because I know how to substitute into this formula, but when the problem is slightly different I panic, because the teacher never showed us how to solve it", which can be fixed by practicing a wider variety of problems and practicing the awareness of one's thinking process

people do not understand that problem solving is a skill on its own and I blame schools for that, because what we are offered is the image of math being about re-using the same kind of thinking processes but with different numbers. heck, when I was in elementary school I thought this is what math is about and I hated it because it's so boring and repetitive. I can imagine, when someone believes that this is what math is supposed to be and then they see the "more real math", which is about creativity, they panic (and rightfully so, they've been lied to)

my unpopular opinion is that not everyone can be good at this, just like I will never be good at understanding literature – my brain just sucks at processing this kind of stuff and I have aphantasia which doesn't help at all. but what makes it even worse for those people is the belief that it should be about repeating the same patterns over and over, so when they see that it's something completely different, it must be very frustrating – the reality is inconsistent with their beliefs

I am sure it doesn't cover the entirety of the "oof I always hated math" phenomenon, but it certainly does explain some of it, especially in the context of the education system in my country

As I said in a previous post, I have deep sympathy for the frustration of people who are good at math when they see math so almost universally hated by children and adults

And again and again, they try to explain that math is very much within everyone's reach and can be fun and, at least in western countries, education was to blame, messing up this very doable and fun thing by teaching it wrong

But I still gotta wonder - why math? If it is really just education messing this up, why does it mess up so much with math, specifically? I'm sorry but I still cannot shake the sense that even if it's just bad teaching, math is especially vulnerable to bad teaching.

Or is it maybe just that math is the only truly exact science, so there is no margin of error, so unlike every other field where you can sortof weasel around and get away with teaching and retaining half-truths and oversimplifications and purely personal opinions, math is unforgiving with the vague and the incorrect?

[iwadori]

Haikyu boys when they make you insecure PT 1 (Kenma,Kuroo)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6.

Word Count:3k 

genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You and Kenma have been in a long distance relationship for a while.

Both of you stream, Kenma doing it seriously for his job and you just playing it for fun,

Sometimes you stream together of course but because of your difference in audiences and games you don’t do it all the time

“Bye guys! Hope you enjoyed todays stream” You wave off to the camera and shut off your PC taking a few sips of water.

Kenma: Hey.. nice stream today Y/N are you going to watch mine?

Y/N: Of course I will 

Kenma: Ok talk to you later

Y/N: okayy <3

Kenma is what inspired you to stream, he also taught you all the ins and outs of streaming making sure you were set and ready. Your gaming style was very relaxed and friendly as you obviously weren’t streaming as a career just for fun and to make friends with your online viewers. The games you played were usually: minecraft, COD, Sims 4, Roblox, Animal crossing and *Insert your favourite game here* the way I literally named all the games I play 

You wait for Kenmas stream to start, kind of excited as you’ve always loved seeing your boyfriend in his ‘element’ when it comes to playing to games. As your boyfriends stream starts you see he’s already chosen what game he is playing today which is to your surprise Call of duty, since that was the game you were playing earlier.

As he gets into the stream you are entertained, as always since Kenma was being his usual self laughing at his own deadpan jokes and interacting with his viewers. He is currently waiting for his capture the flag game to start so as he waits he decides to read some comments in the chat.

You’re used to the usual ‘Kenma where is Y/N I miss your usual streams together’ or ‘kenma please RAIL me’ which always makes you laugh. You were also used to the common hate comments Kenma and You both got on your streams but you were definitely not ready for this..

@ Ihatewomanandiamadick : Hey Kenma did you see your girls stream today she is so dog shit at COD lmaoooo jhdfkjdrhdrr

“Well hello ihatewomenandiamadick” started Kenma “but yes I did see Y/N stream and obviously she is not the best at games and I would definitely NOT ask her to team with me for any serious gaming competitions ... but she’s fun to watch I guess” as he finished speaking about you his game loaded up so he focused his attention on that the words he just spoke going to the back of his mind as they end up at the forefront of yours.

You obviously knew you were no match for Kenma’s gaming expertise but you didn’t expect him to publicly agree with a hate comment let alone add more of his imput on you. Did he really think that about you? ‘She’s fun to watch I guess’ did he not even enjoy your streams that much?

You wanted to distract yourself, and you definitely couldn’t do that watching him so you close off of his stream and get in your bed deciding to watch your favourite show. 

Waking up at 6pm after your sad nap, you see that Kenma has left some messages to you,

Kenma: hey did you watch my stream?

Kenma: do you want to facetime later and play some minecraft..?

Kenma: y/n r u ok??

Y/N: oh hey cnt play minecraft w you rn not really in the mood..

Kenma: oh ok..

Time passed since then a month to be exact and you basically dropped off of the face of the earth, you weren’t in the mood to do anything let alone game and stream, which was a constant reminder of your boyfriend (something you didn’t want at the time.) 

You felt embarrassed over all the things he said about you and all the things you now think he thinks about you and the way you play. Maybe he thinks even worse things about you, beyond just how you game? What if he doesn’t even genuinely like you...or he has someone else...it does make sense, you do both live miles and miles away from eachother AND he’s a big streamer you see the amount of girls in his comments.

You shake your head to erase your protruding thoughts coming in your mind, but it doesn’t really help. You and Kenma haven’t spoken much over this month he tried to constantly reach out to you at first but you assume he got bored over your constant, repetitive dry texts. So you were almost content with you and Kenma not even being in a relationship anymore.

However on Kenma’s side, he was beyond worried about you. Since you haven’t been streaming or barely responded to his texts he thought something happened to you, but he didn’t want to be seen as ‘overstepping boundaries’ if there was nothing wrong at all with you and you simply were just ‘not in the mood.’ 

So here he is, in Kuroo’s apartment trying to get him to help him out on finding out what is wrong with you.

“So kenma can you remember what happened the day when Y/N went ‘ghost’“ asked Kuroo in a mock detective voice

“Y/N didn’t go ‘ghost’ Kuro, and take this seriously” said Kenma “I’m worried bout her”

“Okay fine, but for real what’s the last thing you remember before she started acting all weird.” 

“Umm I think it was around a month ago I did my saturday stream and I think she was on it but she didn’t leave her usual nice comments throughout”

“Ohh that was the stream when you sai-” Kuroo said before pausing his words as the memory of what Kenma said about you on his stream came in his mind, as even Kuroo thought it was a tad bit harsh for Kenma to say all those things “I think I know why Y/N has been so distant kiddo”

“What why?” Asked Kenma

Kuroo pulls out his phone and brings up the clip off what Kenma said and Kenma’s face cringes ‘did he really say all those things about you’ he thinks. 

“Shit.. I didn’t know I said all of that” he said quietly “how do I make it up to her?”

“There’s only one thing you can really do Kenma” said kuroo

You are woken up out of your sleep by a knock on the door. Getting out your bed like a zombie, you trudge to your front door only surprised by what you see. There in his 5′6 glory stood your ‘boyfriend’ Kenma with a controller and a kitten teddy in his hand. You were very tempted to shut the door in his face and get back to your dreamless sleep but you waited on him to speak.

“Hi Y/N” he said quietly “wanna play some minecraft...?”

“Why so you can ridicule me on how shit I am?” You ask bitterly ready to shut the door on him

“No! No not all” he said stopping you from shutting the door entering your place “Y/N i’m really sorry on what I said, I wasn’t thinking AT ALL... I love watching your streams and I think you’re great at playing games...I was just being a dick,”

You take a deep breath before tears pool in your eyes “what you said really hurt me kenma..” you say “ I know people say shitty things on the internet all the time... it’s the internet. But I wasn’t expecting you to agree with the hater and say even more shitty things on top of that.. I don’t think I want to even stream anymore”

Upon hearing that, Kenma’s mouth parts open with shock ‘you dont want to stream anymore’ were his comments that bad? Now he feel even worse as he should and is now more determined to make things right. 

He impulsively drags your arm into your game room, catching your surprise ‘what is he up too?’ you think. He stops for a second seeing your usual pristine gaming set up, collected up with dust. 

“What are you do-” you start 

“Just wait!” He says, as he rushes away turning on all your stuff and logging onto his twitch account as he sees the views go up he starts to speak

 “Hi guys, its me kodzuken and today I’m here on stream with my beautiful girlfriend and today I want to say..” he turns to you “Y/N im so sorry for the horrible things I said to you that day... I was just being a dick and I’m sorry I really am.”

You look at the chat and you see some confusion and some people recalling his words from last month. “It’s fine Kenma, I forgive you” you say giving him a hug”

“Okay Y/N, so what do you say... wanna beat my ass at bed wars?” He says with a smirk 

“When have I ever loss?” you return his smirk

Of course you did beat his ass as bed wars for rounds on rounds never losing proving yourself to actually be a good gamer girl. You enjoyed your time with Kenma, forgetting what he said before about you and moving on. 

Eventually, you guys moved in together and streamed together all the time and yes you still do play for fun but you’ve gotten way better at COD (some may say better then Kenma) but who is better didn’t matter to any of you, as long as you got to play together that’s all you both cared about.

Kuroo:

Kuroo and you have been together since you were in your first year of high school 

You met as friends first when you got him to tutor you in chemistry ( a subject you still aren’t that good at.)

Now you have your upcoming entrance exams for university in a month so your school has you doing mock exams in preparation for them.

20%

You look down at your chemistry paper that your teacher just handed you. 20%. You’re surprised, very surprised since out of all your subjects (that you go 90+% on) you studied on the chemistry test the hardest ensuring Testurou, that you didn’t need his help at all. But I guess it turns out, you did.

This failing mock grade put a blunder on your day, you didn’t interact with anyone and didn’t want to see your boyfriend so you skipped your usual routine of meeting him on the rooftop and went to the library instead ‘might aswell start early on your studying’ you thought.

As you were going over your chemistry topics, you hear an ‘ahem’ next to you and you turn your head only to find your boyfriend and his friends next to you. Kuroo with his usual goofy smile on his face. 

“Hey kitten where were you at lunch?” he asked 

“Needed to go to the library, Chemistry is kicking my ass” you mumbled 

“Oya” he said as he noticed your chemistry test laying under your textbook “20%, well damn Y/N I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were that stupid” he laughed doing his stupid usual hyena-like laugh.

Ouch well that hurt. You slightly flinched at his words, “Really your name, you didn’t know the molecular formula for ethanol, that’s first year work” he said continuing to laugh “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the first things I tutored you on when we first met” 

His overbearing laughter was not good for you, you were already having a bad day and yes you do know your not that good at chemistry but you didn’t need your chemistry-enthusiast boyfriend to make fun of you for failing. Kenma and Yaku stood there awkwardly obviously aware of how bad Kuroo is making you feel but they didn’t really know how to stop his friend in the moment.Whilst he’s still dying of laughter you decide to pack up your stuff and leave the library.

You managed to get your Chemistry tutor to let you retake your mock paper in a week so that means, extra hard studying with no distractions you definitely can’t fail again. Since studying on your own was definitely not a good option, and you couldn’t go to Kuroo (especially after he ridiculed you) you decided to ask the second smartest person you know to tutor you.

Y/N: Hey Yaku! Can I ask you a favour?

Yaku: Hi Y/N what do you need??

Y/N: I have my chemistry retake next week, and as you know from your loud-loud friend I failed my recent test so can you tutor me?? 

Y/N: Pleaseeee

Yaku: Ok Y/N why can’t you ask Kuroo you know that he’d be more than happy to help

Y/N: Yakuu pleasee just help me out 

So there you was, nearly a week done with your study sessions with Yaku and you’re feeling way more confident than before. 

“Y/N what is the functional group of a Carboxylic Acid” Yaku asked

“umm... COO?” 

“Great! that’s correct Y/N” he praises i dont actually know if it’s correct or not

You then hear a knock at Yaku’s front door and hear his mum let the person in, Kuroo then enters Yaku’s bedroom with shock plastered on his face surprised to see you here.

“Y/N...hey?” he says confused “what are you doing here?”

“Oh Mori-chan is just helping me with chemistry for my retake tommorow” you say nochalantly internally smiling at the twinge in Kuroo’s face at the purposeful use of Yaku’s first name.

“So why didn’t you ask me to help you know I’m a chemistry whiz” he asks

“Maybe I’m too stupid to be taught under your tutelage” you mumble “since I seem to forget whatever you teach me, even when it’s 3 years ago... but ok”

“Y/N I-” he starts 

“Oh save it Kuroo, I have studying to do” you say cutting him off

“But I-” he tries

“So Mori-chan COOH is the function group of ethyl ethonate right?” you ask ignoring your boyfriend who is now at a lost for words

“ummm yeah it is” says yaku who is clearly feeling heavily awkward at the tension in his bedroom.

Kuroo leaves and you and yaku finish off the studying for the night, you did feel a little bad for being a bit mean to Kuroo but it’s karma for him being a dick to you. 

You wake up the next day ready for your exam which was first thing in the morning, before you hand in your phone you see a message from Kuroo,

Kuroo: I know you’re still mad at me, but I think you’re going to do so well on this test. You’re not stupid at all, you’re really smart and I love you < 3 

Kuroo: Good luck Y/N

You don’t respond to the message but smile at the sincerity of it and thankful for the boost of confidence it gave you before you start your exam.

Finishing the exam with a smile, you were confident you did well as everything you and Yaku went over was on the paper and you’re almost certain you atleast got more than 75%. You have to wait an hour before your teacher can give you your results, so in the meantime you might aswell reconcile with Kuroo.

When you exit the classroom, standing there was Kuroo who seemed to have been waiting for you for the whole duration of the exam.

“So how was it?” Kuroo asked, apprenhensive as he assumed you would just ignore him like you did at Yaku’s house.

“It was fine, I think it went alright..” you say

“Kuroo”

“Y/N”

You say simultaneously, he pauses for a second to let you speak “I’m sorry I was being so stand offish when we were at Yaku’s I just wanted you to see I could do it on my own, and when you called me stupid I really took that to heart since you and I both know that Chemistry wasn’t ever my best subject” 

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and since it was only a practice test I didn’t think you’d take it to heart but I am sorry I know you aren’t stupid.”

Before you got to say anything else, your Chemistry teacher exited the room with your chemistry paper in hand. Kuroo grabbed your hand anticipating your nerves and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Miss L/N” said your teacher “Well done on your chemistry test” he turned your test around to sure a perfect 100%. Both you and Kuroo gasped, you were elated to say the least you wanted to jump up and down in excitement but a PERFECT 100%.

“I’d also like to add that you have now got the top chemistry score in the school beating the previous title holder Kuroo Testurou” said your teacher, this made Kuroo open his mouth even wider in surprise nearly making you giggle at his response. 

Your teacher took his leave, leaving you and Kuroo in the hallway “ I guess i’m the chemistry whizz now “ you say wiggling your eyebrows just as Kuroo did to you before at Yaku’s this made him chuckle as he came to put his arm around you.

“Y/N don’t get ahead of yourself now, you may have won this battle but I will win the war” he said smiling

In the final exam, you continue your winning streak also getting a near 100% and still beating Kuroo which didn’t matter to either of you, now you’re just like him cracking chemistry puns and jokes all the time which none of your friends appreciated but atleast Kuroo found them SODIUM funny.

AN: Please kill me for the last line of Kuroos, I didn’t really like Kuroo’s since it was a bit self indulgent with my hate for chemistry but what do you guys think?

[kj-munch]

!! actno POLEASE! Why wont backspace worjk

DR CHARLES ACTON-DOLLO my bestie. its been a while since ive posted any legit lore with him and some stuff has been tweaked so im gonna do a pretty hefty recap, so forewarning this is gonna be long as fuck

starting in pre-canon, he used to be a high school bio teacher! he has a degree in biotechnology so he was a bit overqualified for the job, but he struggled to find work closer to what he studied for. he felt a little disappointed with himself for that, but he DID love his job as a teacher a lot, plus he had his husband murphy at his side! things werent perfect but they were damn close, and the two of them planned to have a child together in the very near future.

UNTIL the madness hit nevada full swing. plans for a child went out the window with the hellscape nevada was devolving into with no sign of improving. acton lost his job as a teacher, but was quickly picked up by the newly forming AAHW due to his expertise in biotechnology. things were shitty, but he was able to find excitement in finally becoming a respected scientist! one of the leading figures in the development of the MAG program in fact!

some time later, following a close call incident in which acton was nearly a casualty, his husband murphy convinced him that he needed to be there to help protect him. the two of them agreed that the best course of action would be for murphy to become MAG, as those are powerful enough that the risk of murphy being seriously injured or even killed on the job was very low. additionally they agreed to it because it was intended to be temporary (murphy signs a contract to agree to work for the AAHW in year long stints, at the end of each year long period he would be able to either renew the contract or quit and be cloned back into a regular grunt body)

but only around a month after murphy was magnified, he began showing signs of something having gone wrong. acton could do nothing but watch from the sidelines as the man he married rapidly devolved into a bitter, cruel and work-obsessed MAG agent who answered onto to law and snapped at anybody who dared try to compare him to his old self.

obviously watching this happen and not knowing how to help in the slightest, actons own mental state began to deteriorate. being completely loathed by the man who’s still your husband on paper does things to a guy! especially when youre the head of the department dedicated to monitoring him and youre forced to interact with him almost daily! acton began to avoid law in face to face interactions the best he could, but his job position and his own desperate attachment never let him go too far

this went on for months, the tension on both ends only continuing to build until eventually it finally all came to a head. during a standard monitored training session, law snapped and attempted to murder acton. as a heat of the moment decision it was poorly planned. law shatters and reaches through the observation window and manages to kill several other scientists in the project law team in his attempt to reach acton. (important side tangent i shoulda mentioned earlier probably but w/e, when murphy was magnified they implanted a remotely controlled detonator in the back of his neck. as a powerful and dangerous MAG, this was intended as a safety measure in the case he ever turned on his fellow agents. as the head of the project law team, acton was entrusted with the controller)

actons remaining attachment made him hesitate to resort to the detonator, along with a mix of shock at what he was seeing. he hesitated long enough for several other people in the room to die, in which acton finally activated the controller and killed law.

despite everything, acton cant bear to lose law. hes beat down by months of open hatred from him, but he’s still desperately hopeful that murphy has to be in there somewhere. he goes back and forth with AAHW higher-ups to negotiate laws revival, which is eventually granted. learning this news, the remaining members of the project law team (many of which actually good friends of acton) turn on him and are hurt and shocked that he could STILL be defending law after EVERYTHING. many refuse to work with him and demand to be moved to a different department.

when law is revived approximately a week after his death, acton is the one to greet him. the conversation goes south fast and law lets loose how deeply his loathing runs, for acton AND himself. law doesnt attempt to physically harm him again, and i want to depict this scene in art one day so i wont go too in depth now, but actons still left deeply wounded.

with his social circles now COMPLETELY destroyed and having no one to talk to, acton finally just relents under the pressure. barely a week after laws revival, acton quietly dissents and goes completely off the grid. hes working under his own contract and cant simply quit, as a higher ranking scientist he has too much insider knowledge to risk trying to escape to another city where he could still live in some sort of comfort. he’s forced to completely go it alone.

actons time after his dissent is 90% spent feeling miserable and sorry for himself, and 10% scavenging for the bare minimum resources to keep himself alive. hes a weak scientist, he’s not built for surviving on his own out in the wastes, and he only manages to scrape by by laying low and hiding from any passerby. this doesnt always work, a few times he is found by bandits who rob him for what little belongings he has, and beat the shit out of him for the fun of it.

its a fucking miserable existence. but hes afraid to die, so he spends his last days thinking about what he couldve done different. how he couldve saved murphy, or not let it happen in the first place. he reminisces on the good old days quite a bit too. ultimately hes just wasting away out there, a far cry from the bright-eyed respected top scientist he once was.

[kitkatpancakestack]

(For @yramesoruniverse, who requested future married Buck and Eddie as empty-nesters confronting a renovation of Christopher's room. Thanks for this. This one hurt.)

VII

When Christopher left for college the first time around, Eddie was quietly inconsolable. Buck was devastated, yes, and spent his fair share of time clutching helplessly to a new item from Christopher’s room every night, but Eddie was a slow collapse, drawn out over four years, intermittently assuaged during summer and winter breaks when Chris returned home from his studies.

But Chris had graduated college two months ago, and was out of the house for good, renting an apartment with a couple other friends from school who worked in the same area.

“You gotta have a place to stay when you come home,” Eddie says to him one night over video call. Buck is at the sink washing dishes, a chore that doesn’t take nearly as long with just two people, but he lingers so he can listen to the conversation.

Chris sighs. “Dad, I get it, but I’m twenty-two now. I don’t need to sleep in a dinosaur bed with all that little kid stuff lying around.”

“Little kid stuff? Chris, you’re always gonna be my baby boy.”

“Dad, seriously, it’s okay. You can throw it all out if you want, I don’t need it anymore.”

Buck’s hands go still in the soapy dish water. He waits out the rest of the call as Eddie checks in, asking about the job, his roommates, if he likes San Francisco, does he feel safe, is his workplace accessible. Chris fields each question with practiced ease. Buck pops into the screen behind Eddie to say goodbye when Chris has to leave, and then Eddie snaps the laptop closed, and silence blankets the kitchen.

Buck sits beside Eddie at the table and takes his hand, twisting the gold wedding band on his finger like he always does when he needs to take the edge off the nervous energy fizzling in his system. “He looks good,” he says after a beat.

Eddie uses his free hand to scrub over his face, scratching at the stubble covering his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“He’s doing alright, Ed.”

Eddie doesn’t respond to that. He slips his hand out of Buck’s grasp and leaves the kitchen. Buck sighs, finishes the dishes, and then pads down the hallway. He finds Eddie standing outside Christopher’s room, hand gripping the doorframe. They hover together, gazing at the time capsule it has become.

It makes everything inside of him ache.

Eddie breaks the silence first with a murmured, “I just don’t know,” and escapes into their bedroom.

The weird haze encapsulating Eddie doesn’t lift over the next few days. Buck returns home from working a double one night and drops his stuff at the door, exhaustion etching further into his bones the longer he’s away from his California King bed. There’s a single light on in the kitchen and a plate with foil over it, the usual routine when one of them is home and the other is working late. He eats the chicken leg while he walks around the house checking the locks, making sure everything is secure, and pauses by the living room. There’s an empty bin sitting out, and a familiar white binder on the coffee table, and a stack of post-its right beside it.

He polishes off his dinner, tells himself he’ll shower in the morning, and all but falls into bed next to Eddie.

Eddie, who Buck knows is awake the minute his head hits the pillow. It’s a little after three in the morning.

“Ed,” he murmurs, crowding against him, nuzzling his face into the other man’s neck. “You gotten any sleep?”

He grunts. “Waiting for you to get home.”

“Okay. Loving the romantic gesture, but it’s unnecessary.” He prods Eddie’s arm until he rolls over onto his back, brown eyes dark in the soft moonlight streaming through the window. “Hey. What’s wrong? You’ve been off since that video call with Chris.”

Eddie shakes his head, and Buck pushes the initial frustration down, because even after years of marriage there is still this, Eddie’s instinctive urge to bottle up and stuff down and shove aside. He gives him a second, waits for an explanation. But all Eddie does is interlock their hands, press a kiss to the pulse point on Buck’s wrist, turn back on his side, wrap Buck’s arm around his waist.

So Buck waits.

A little over a week later and Buck returns home from hanging with Jee-Yun to Eddie on the living room couch, headphones in, pen scratching notes into his binder. There’s a home renovation show playing on mute on the TV. Buck grabs a beer from the kitchen and sets it on the coffee table, lies down on the couch with his head in Eddie’s lap. His eyes slip closed when fingers sift through his hair, steady and warm and reassuring, even now, always. But Eddie doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything besides rake his fingers through Buck’s hair and continue scribbling in his binder

On a Sunday at 2:25am, Buck wakes to an empty bed and the sounds of shuffling down the hall. He jams the heels of his palms into his eyes, blinks some semblance of consciousness into his being, and wobbles out of the bedroom. Eddie is in Christopher’s room, taking things off the walls, putting objects into a bin.

Buck leans against the door frame. “Eddie,” he says.

Eddie ignores him, moving around the room with intention. Buck crosses the room and fists his hands in his T-shirt.

“Baby,” he whispers urgently, and Eddie stops, staring at the stack of books in his hands. “Come back to bed.”

“I will. In a little bit.”

“This can wait until tomorrow.”

But Eddie is already shaking his head. “No. No. if I stop now, I’ll never finish.”

He pulls away and Buck lets him go. He returns to the bed alone.

Buck jolts awake to his alarm hours later, still alone, but there’s a hot mug of coffee on the bedside table with a little post-it that says I love you in Eddie’s neat penmanship. He rolls out of bed and carries the coffee to the kitchen, where Eddie is leaning against the counter and staring at his phone.

“Hey,” Buck says. He sets the mug down and tucks his hands into the pouch on the front of Eddie’s hoodie. He rests his forehead on his shoulder, breathes him in. He hears the light thud of Eddie setting his phone down on the counter, and then feels his hands on his hips, his arms, his back.

“Buck,” Eddie whispers after a moment, and Buck feels his lips brush his neck as he speaks.

“Yeah?”

“Will you go to Target with me today?”

He snorts. “It’s Sunday.”

“I know. Will you go?”

“Obviously. Can we have Pizza Hut for lunch?”

“That’s implied.”

“Perfect.” He leans back, presses their foreheads together. “It’s a date, Diaz.”

They go to Target, and Buck lets Eddie take his time, trails him through the aisles in as many loops as needed, as the cart steadily fills. They check out and drop their items in the car, eat lunch at Pizza Hut, and then drive home. When Eddie shuts off the engine, neither of them move. Their hands are linked across the center console.

Eddie says, “I’m thinking dark green, for Christopher’s room. Something adult, but it’s still his, you know?”

Buck smiles, nods, relieved. “I love it.”

And so for the rest of the day, Buck watches Eddie transition Christopher’s old room to something more accommodating to a young adult. The comforter matches the curtains. There’s a new desk, with a modern-looking lamp. A mostly-empty bookshelf waiting to be stocked with newer books for an older audience. There’s a new rug under the bed, which also got a size-upgrade. It takes Eddie most of the late afternoon, into the early evening. He calls Buck in when he’s finished. Buck already knows it’s going to look great, because Eddie has the eye for it, as he has reminded him constantly for years.

Buck wraps his arms around Eddie from behind. “Looks good, Ed.”

“I know.”

“And so humble, too.”

“Shut up.” He turns in Buck’s arms, cradles his face like he always does, like he’s something worth handling with care, and kisses him deeply.

“Thank you,” he murmurs when they pull apart. “I kind of shut down these last couple weeks.”

Buck shrugs. “We’ve been married for a while, Eddie. I knew you’d come around eventually.”

“Yeah.” They share one more kiss, bump foreheads, leave the room. “How about Thai food for dinner?”

Buck notices Eddie walk by Christopher’s room a little easier as the weeks go by. The ache in his own chest hurts a little less, too. When Christmas rolls around and Christopher bursts through the door, he nods approvingly at his childhood bedroom.

“I like it,” he says. “There’s still space for me.”

“There will always be space for you here,” Eddie returns.

Buck and Eddie leave him so he can unpack. They retire to the kitchen, and the sight of three place settings shouldn’t make Buck so damn giddy, but he can’t help it.

The familiar white binder is on the corner of the counter. Buck laughs. “Uh-oh. The binder’s back. What’s going on now?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I am not that transparent.”

“You’re not, but we’ve been together for literal eons, and I know you. Which existential crisis did I miss?”

“You think you’re funny, but you’re not.” He flips open the binder, taps the counter with his finger. “Remember that reading nook you wanted?”

“Um, you mean that thing I heavily hinted at, constantly, like five years ago? Not at all. I have no memory.”

“You’re sassy today. Why are you so sassy?” He snaps the binder closed and looks at him. “Let’s build it. I have the design all laid out.”

Buck laughs. “Wow. I don’t even know what to say. Maybe I changed my mind.”

“You didn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’ve been together for literal eons, remember? I guess that means I know you, too.” He walks over, pulls Buck into a warm embrace. And then, “What are your thoughts on accent walls?”

Buck hides his smile in Eddie’s shoulder.

[caelestis-composition]

killshot anon! YEAH i totally agree w/ your view on kaeya. it's so weird to me that people will blame him for his role in a situation he was forced into as a child through no choice of his own. that itself had to be traumatic, not to mention everything that happened later. i hate when people say he's untrustworthy - like yeah, he's lied, so has everyone? it's clear he does it mostly to protect himself. not to mention that (& sadism) can be symptoms of trauma. kaeya deserves nothing but happiness

take a seat folks it’s time for a “brynn should’ve been an english major” lesson! today we’re gonna learn some literary theory; specifically, we’re gonna apply psychoanalytical trauma theory to kaeya’s backstory and current character. killshot anon i bet you never thought this would result in a whole ass essay.

disclaimer one! you are allowed to dislike kaeya! i am not saying you need to like him or his character, you’re entitled to your opinion and i’m not here to change your mind.

disclaimer two! i am in no way an expert and this is all for fun! this is just my silly little analysis of one of my favorite characters as someone who’s studied literary theory and rhetoric and can also apply personal experience. seriously analysis is like a hobby to me and this is just an excuse for me to ramble about kaeya.

disclaimer three! this contains lots of spoilers! basically for everything we know in-game, general knowledge as well as stuff from his voicelines and character story. don’t read this if you don’t want spoilers.

since this is going to be filled with spoilers and is about to get really long, everything will be under a cut. for those who wanna read my dumb super informal essay: enjoy!

final note: yeah this is over 2000 words long can you tell i like analysis

⭒

let’s start by getting a quick rundown of trauma theory out of the way. to begin, what is “trauma?” in this case, trauma is going to refer to an experience that greatly affects and changes one’s life; attitudes, memories, behaviors, mental state, etc. while not all changes may be bad, per se, the overall effect of trauma is generally a negative one, which is why it’s so significant. literary trauma theory, then, explores these changes and the impact of trauma in literature. it analyzes the psychological and social effects of trauma, explaining what those effects are and why they happen. in the context of a specific character, trauma theory breaks down said character’s behaviors, feelings, and general mentality in relation to their past experiences; trauma theory hopes to explain to others the reasons for why a character may act or feel the way they do, all based upon the character’s experiences, particularly traumatic ones. our character today is the lovely kaeya alberich, with the “literature” being genshin impact. i’ll be referencing kaeya’s wiki page to ensure i get all details correct for his character story and voicelines.

it would be good to review kaeya’s backstory before delving into the actual analysis. though we don’t know much about his life before living in mondstadt, we’re told he was sent as an agent of khaenri’ah. and by “sent,” i mean his biological father abandoned him in a completely unfamiliar land to serve khaenri’ah’s interests and fullfil his mission—what this entirely entails hasn’t been revealed. mondstadt, however, welcomed kaeya “with open arms when they found him.” crepus ragnvindr took him in as his adopted son, with diluc as his adopted brother. kaeya and diluc were “almost like twins,” so close they “[knew] each other’s thoughts and intentions without a word.” he’d began a new life in mondstadt, one surrounded by friends and family that loved him; one that was completely shattered by crepus’s death. kaeya arrived at the scene of the disaster, and was led to believe diluc was the one who killed their father to “set his father free” from the effects of his delusion. there’d always been one big question in kaeya’s life: if it came down to it, who would he support? the nation that abandoned him, but he still felt loyal to, or the nation and family that took him in and really loved him? overrun with guilt, kaeya confessed his purpose to diluc, sparking a fight between the two brothers. in this fight, kaeya receives his cryo vision. though both brothers stepped away alive, they’ve never been able to make peace with one another. now, kaeya is the eccentric and charming cavalry captain of the knights of favonius; a man who gets his way by using any means necessary, regardless of whether or not it seems right.

kaeya’s not evil; he’s morally ambiguous, and that stems from what appears to be a general distrust of others. his life is one shrouded in secrecy. from the moment he stepped foot into mondstadt, he was surrounded by secrets. even now, he doesn’t talk about a lot of things, namely his past, vision, and feelings. though he’s always willing to get information out of others, kaeya never reveals anything about himself. he repeatedly tells the player they can confide in him, but whenever you try and pry into his life, he deflects your questions with some sort of witty comment or flirty remark. anything he does reveal is vague, or spoken in some sort of “code.” for example, his “interesting things” voiceline. he tells us about the owl of dragonspine, how it “seems to look right through you, while letting go of none of its own secrets,” and then tacks on a “quite fascinating, don’t you think?” it seems like an awfully accurate parallel to himself; kaeya does all he can to get information from others, but never gives anything about himself. now, this whole thing—his relationship with diluc falling apart and his need for secrecy—could have probably been avoided if he had just come clean about his mission years ago. so why didn’t he? to start, kaeya was a literal child. not only are children unable to properly tell the difference between right and wrong, but they’ll also typically follow their parents’ orders blindly. kaeya had just been abandoned, and he wouldn’t want to risk being cast out by mondstadt as well if he came clean right away. you see, there’s this thing about trauma, something that trauma theory states. traumatized people feel a sort of shame or guilt regarding their traumatic experience; they’ll keep quiet because they don’t want to cause problems or bother others with their issues. of course kaeya wouldn’t tell the truth about his past, he doesn’t want to destroy the genuinely loving relationships he’d built in mondstadt. his fight with diluc only proves what he was afraid of: if he’s honest, he’ll be abandoned again. and if kaeya’s used to all the lies, why should he bother changing?

another thing, if he’s not going to tell the truth, then why would he have initially gone along with his father’s plans? again, he was a child. he really had no choice, and was forced into a very wrong and cruel situation. there’s a good explanation for this, too, which is also stated in trauma theory; traumatized people will still do their best to please their abusers. especially if said abuser is a parent, that will drive traumatized people to work even harder to please them. although his father hurt him by ruthlessly abandoning him, kaeya still sought to make him and his homeland proud. he was willing to be used as a tool for their gain; that is, until he found people who actually cared about him. he was an impressionable child, of course he’s going to obey orders. but as he gets older, he feels torn. does he serve those who abandoned him, or those that took him in? his father—and arguably, khaenri’ah as a whole—hurt him, sure, but he still feels some loyalty and connection to his former home. instead of revealing anything, he lets the situation play out. that way, he can’t be blamed when things fall apart.

the thing about claiming he’s untrustworthy is that hardly anyone in-game believes that. he’s adored by the older folks in mondstadt, and foes and allies alike find him easy to talk to. despite seeming lazy and uninterested in work, kaeya takes his job very seriously. in fact, his story states that crepus’s death was the “first and only time kaeya failed in his duty.” the “only time” is especially important, because it signifies kaeya still fulfills his duties successfully. he’s had a total of one slip-up, and hasn’t failed since. no, kaeya is not untrustworthy. rather, kaeya finds everyone else untrustworthy. it’s not unlikely that this is a direct consequence of being abandoned as a child. although it’s been established that kaeya and diluc were very close as children, when crepus dies, kaeya assumes diluc is the one that killed him. in order to jump to such an extreme conclusion against someone he was so close to, there had to be some underlying sense of distrust. furthermore, kaeya expresses feeling as though he doesn’t belong anywhere. he was abandoned by khaenri’ah, and then worried he wouldn’t be accepted by mondstadt. he is, but there’s still that worry. if you place him in your teapot as a companion, he tells you that your home feels like someplace he belongs, following it up with a “heh, who’d have thought…” kaeya still feels as though he doesn’t belong in mondstadt; despite the fact that he’s a high-ranking knight of favonius and rather popular, he still feels like an outsider. he doesn’t trust that anyone actually wants him around, and he finds joy in testing peoples’ trustworthiness. it’s noted in his story and through his voicelines that the beloved cavalry captain has a rather sadistic nature. he likes putting people into difficult situations, to see what decisions they will make. he does this to both opponents and allies, testing to see who’s going to back out and who’ll keep fighting; in the sake of allies, who can he trust? or who will turn tail and abandon their teammates at the slightest hint of danger? i mentioned it previously, but kaeya doesn’t care what measures he has to take so long as his job gets done and he gets the answers he wants. it’s a sort of self-preserving mindset, putting himself above the safety of others. kaeya’s trying to protect himself, which makes sense with all he’s been through. he doesn’t want to be hurt, and instead finds pleasure in threatening harm upon others. it’s twisted, sure, but it’s because he can only trust himself in a world that he believes is out to get him. he’s got as many enemies—if not more—as he does allies; of course kaeya focuses on protecting himself first, whether physically or through keeping his secrets, well, secret.

his most obvious traumatic effect is definitely his alcoholism. but he uses it as a distraction, not just to wallow in self-pity. this is seen again in his story, particularly in story 3. it’s found that when his favorite drink, death after noon, is out of season, mondstadt’s crime rate is decreased drastically. at face value, this just means kaeya spends more time working when death after noon is low in supply. but kaeya doesn’t skip work to go to taverns; it’s already been established he takes his job very seriously, so this means he actually patrols and tracks down threats while off work when he can’t indulge in his favorite alcoholic drink. he doesn’t get drunk simply because he’s depressed. if he did, there wouldn’t be a drop in incidents when death after noon is out of season. no, kaeya uses both the alcohol and fighting to distract himself. after all, it’s a little hard to think about feeling sad when you’re either drunk out of your mind or fighting for your life.

despite being so secretive, kaeya gives us glimpses of his true emotions from time to time. as previously mentioned, his flirty attitude is nothing more than a mask to hide how he really feels; and kaeya is terribly, terribly lonely. that may be why he seems so extroverted. constantly being around people should, logically, drive away that feeling, but it doesn’t work like that. when he talks with the player, he frequently expresses disappointment when you have to leave. each time, though, he dampens the weight of his words with playful or flirty language. he’s lonely, but doesn’t want you to know that, like he’s afraid of asking you to stay. he takes the seriousness of his feelings, and basically bends it into some sort of lighthearted joke. kaeya hides his true feelings—negative feelings, to be exact—so that he doesn’t bother anyone. which is, again, something that happens with traumatized people. he displays that hesitance to reveal his true feelings, because there’s a shame or guilt that comes with his past. he doesn’t want to bother others or hold them back, so he puts on a smile and amps up the charisma. one other very important thing—but very small detail—i would like to note is his feelings toward family. his fell apart not even once, but twice, and kaeya still holds familial relationships in high regard. we know he doesn’t exactly care how he goes about getting his work done. he doesn’t pay attention to what’s “right” or “wrong,” so long as he gets what he needs. but one of his informants, vile, notes that the cavalry captain has one exception: he won’t work with those who threaten others’ families. in fact, kaeya claims those who do should be hunted down and destroyed. even though his own families have caused him so much pain—and he ended up estranged from both—he still understands the importance of having people who love you in your life. because he didn’t get that.

kaeya’s not evil. ultimately, as a knight of favonius, his goal is to protect others, because no one was there to protect him. and because no one was there to protect him, because he’s been hurt time and time again by people who were supposed to love him, kaeya has taken to protecting himself. he hides any and all negative feelings with a charismatic, friendly façade, because he thinks it’ll drive away his persistent loneliness. any “bad” actions of his were hardly his fault; he was forced into a life of secrecy and lies, and then abandoned by the first people who truly loved him. kaeya’s a multi-faceted, tragic character, one that toes the line between good and evil, and that’s what makes him so interesting.

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[dausy]

So I plan on finishing an illustration today and hopefully get it uploaded. I have a tentative first day at a new job tomorrow and now I'm stressing over that.

but also I spent the entire day out of town yesterday. We took our first ever outdoor rock climbing trip yesterday and I think all of us are feeling it today.

I felt kind of bad because I didn't have a chance before January to talk about some stuff I accomplished last year of all my hobbies and what I wanted to accomplish this year. So I figured I'd do a looksy backsy and ramble for a bit. Hopefully with cute divider icons if tumblr formats correctly.

so anyway, art related stuff. This time last year I was really wanting to try and build my own stationery set to sell at a local craft fair. Have to admit moving makes this seem too far out of reach. I do kinda feel like abandoning tiktok for youtube. Even though tiktok has the majority of my everything right now. Im at the moment enjoying the bloggy style rambling of youtube. I already have quite a few projects that I want to do but I feel like its been so long since I've uploaded an illustration that I need to do that first. I also have quite a few art supplies that I want to buy..maybe with like my first paycheck.

Games, last year I somehow managed to utilize my switch a lot. That thing went up on a shelf for a long time after animal crossing a few years ago and this past year I pulled it out quite a bit. I really need a goodreads but for video games so I can track what I've played because my memory is getting so bad. I played quite a few cozy games like ooblets and disney dreamlike valley but I also did some jrpgs like Atelier Sophie and Xenoblade Chronicles. I did just download harvestella as a break from xenoblade but I did enjoy the style of that game and would kind of like to play its sequels. I also at some point had meant to play Octopath traveller because I'd never played it and the sequel is out/coming out soon and the sequel looks better than the original imo.

The bulk of my playing though was Horizon Zero Dawn and its sequel. I played Assassins Creed Valhalla before that too so that was A LOT of open world explorey explorey, one right after another. I played HZD and immediately started Forbidden West immediately. I was really brain dead at the end. I get into insane map clearing mode and I cannot do anything until the map is clear. I really liked the idea of the story and I liked the open world nature. I originally wasn't interested in the game because of the machinery involved. Im more of a mystical dragons and castles person but I actually did really like the idea. I had some issues with the execution of the story. It taking itself so seriously yet being so cartoony at the same time. Ill play the triquel but I wasn't thrilled with HFW really.

Books. Previous year I did a personal challenge of trying to read 100 books and I think I got to 98. So I was a bit burnt out this past year. I did read more than I thought. Think I thought I read maybe 15 but I counted and read about 33 not including the Harry Potter Philosophers stone reread that I read in spanish. I do plan hopefully to read book 2 in spanish this year. I'm studying spanish and HP is such a familiar story I think it makes the language less daunting.

My favorite books were definitely Legends and Lattes and Home Before Dark by Riley Sager.

This year I have no real plans to read any sort of amount and I dont want to feel pressured to do so. I'm finishing some books that I didn't complete before 2022 ended. I finished 5 Days at Memorial right before the clock hit midnight practically on 2023 and it made me so angry at the medical field. I added 2 more medical books to my tbr. Ill finish 2 more books that are halfway done probably in the near future and then I don't know what else to read.

Ill admit trying to film art for youtube really interupts ones audiobook experience. I may just ditch books for ambient music.

[hermannsthumb]

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.