#i really need to. actually create a portfolio or some shit

[graham--folger]

i love looking back at old writing i've completely forgotten about and squinting at it like. damn. whoever wrote this shit was pretty good

[rgr-pop]

we had literally just had a user services meeting where my supervisor said the library decided not to put any high time sensitive stacks project on the agenda for the summer. she was like please use your vacation time!

the next monday at 3pm our director read our meeting notes, became mad, and decided unilaterally to assign us (just me and my supervisor plus my students if i have them) to shift the whole general collection by august starting now. more or less out or nowhere (i spent last summer and fall outliningwhat we’d need to do and getting trained up while i was creating a whole oversize collection from scratch but was told up til a few weeks ago that it wouldn’t go on the calendar—primarily because we don’t have the staff.)

we asked for the plan and he said “shifting ldoesn’t need a plan. just move the books. distribute the evenly across the shelves with each shelf at 60-75% fill capacity.” (WHICH and okay math?)

please if you’ve ever planned or participated in a collection shift chime in. not sure i can possibly explain how deranged this is

fun fact TS isn’t sure how many volumes are in our collection due to not being inventoried in about a decade. the director didn’t have a sense within 10,000 of how many books he was asking us to move even if a shift was just moving books from one location to another (it’s not). we were gonna focus on missing and inventory over the summer (fun fact we have a missing list about SEVEN PERCENT OF THE COLLECTION!!!) it’s good practice to always measure the materials on the shelf for a shift but it’s essential when you don’t have a well maintained collection— the other way we would make the estimation of how to distribute a collection evenly would be to use a formula estimating volumes per linear inch in various collection types. but again we have a 7% missing collection lmao

so over the past two and a half workdays i’ve been working a 10 page project plan all by myself — planning stacks projects is not my job. i’m still a clerk with some extra technical duties on paper. i make about 24k in a year working part time. the people doing this task at msu make 2-3 times what i make. there are two administrators above me, one who is lying about the work itself and being insane (also the worst at his job or anyone alive), the other doesn’t know how to do any of this. and she’s dedicated herself to getting caught up and this makes me feel a million times better but in theory on principle i should not do this (he will make me “move the books” regardless sooo)

we have this thing in my unit called responsibility dollars you can apply for to get a small bonus for a project outside your job description. if i was full time i would be eligible for an extra $3.25 or so, but as part time i can only get $1.20. so onward requesting my $33 per week summer stipend.. my director might block admin from approving it because he doesn’t believe a plan is required. i should just move the books! (google how to plan a library shift if you’re interested in my work)

anyway the problem is that i really enjoy doing this and would love to do a good job at it. it’s not happening in august lol be real. what rows this man want us speed shelving for. TO WHAT END?? WHY?? i will see this through and start applying to archives jobs—the real core of the “thrown into the most chaotic situation imaginable and plan a lil system” field—it’s what i’m good at and i’m putting this stupid shit in my portfolio. all i actually want is to not have my work openly disrespected by a man who wants the library to literally crumble because he hates queer people so much ! he still by the way refuses to speak directly to me or read anything i produce 🤷‍♀️

my supervisor texted me this morning at 11 am asking me if i was at work (i was in the staff kitchen and didn’t see it til hours later bc i was AT WORK not ON MY PHONE and she didn’t use work communication) so now i’m paranoid that they’re watching my time, which is insane bc i’m so much more productive… he tried this last year too around the incident. challenged some hours i worked out of nowhere and said he didn’t remember me being here and i was like ok there’s nothing i can do to demonstrate that?? so i had to take hours i worked off my timecard. to my knowledge no one else but me is required to do time tracking or has had their time challenged —only Me who accused him of homophobic retaliation and got disciplined for it and can now get fired for any reaaaason :’) so anyway i worked til 11 pm monday and i will be here til 8 every night the rest of the week due to paranoia

[ahedderick]

Set up

Today was 'set up for the Art Tour' day in town for the furniture-maker and me. He is a delight to hang around with for a weekend or two every October. I looked at my old journals, and figured out I've been in his studio since about 2016? Where did the years go. The year before that, the Arts Council was strongly recommending that people group together in town, so folks could tour more artists without having to go to dozens of different sites. The AC sent out info for places where people could 'cluster', and I called one of the people on the list, D. I asked if I could set up in her shop, she said yes, and then:

[mid-October 2015] Saturday I emailed D to ask her to set a time Wednesday or Thursday for me to bring the art tour stuff in and hang it. She said she would be available Thursday from 11 to 7. It was a friendly email! With exclamation points in it!

   "I’ll see you Thursday at 11, then!” I reply. This morning at 11 on the dot I pull up outside the building. When I go to the door D opens it, gives me a dour look and says, "I’m not open, yet.”

   “Good! I’ll be able to carry my stuff in without getting in your customers’ way!” I chirped. Way to spin a situation, right?

   Despite her open hostility (she didn’t want me there, didn’t want me climbing her ladder, and hadn’t moved any of the shit in the back room that needed to be moved before I set up) I kept on moving things in and setting up. She told me that 4 other people need to set up in the [tiny] room, with what seemed like an implication that I was taking up too much space just standing there and others should get to set up first. Uh-unh. I am here first. I am here by appointment with you. You already said I could have that certain corner and by god I’m going to hang my artwork up there NOW.

   It took a while to get hooks and nails set in place, chains hung on them, s-hooks on the chains, and artwork gingerly hung on the s hooks. Without banging any frames on the rough, brick walls, dropping anything, or any of a dozen other probable goof-ups. I was getting close to being done when D remembered that she had an urgent lunch appointment. She wanted to know if it was ok to leave me.

“Sure, “I told her, “Have a good time . . . I can get out, right?”

   Yes, she told me I could get out. I finished hanging things, looked at the whole setup with a tinge of pride, and headed for the door. Which, yes, I could get out. What I could not do was lock it behind me. The lock was a deadbolt that could either be set with a latch on the inside of the door or set by a key from the outside of the door. It did not swing shut and lock behind you. Key.

   I fiddled with the thing from inside and out for some time, until I was convinced there really was no way to lock it behind me. I looked around the shop crammed FULL of small, portable items that could easily walk away if the shop were left unattended.

   I stayed. And stayed. An hour later, I was still there. At 1:15 (she was supposed to return by 1) I left her a note at the cash register and left. Door unlocked. I couldn’t stay there any more! And I was starving!    I am upset about leaving and I would also have been upset if I had stayed. I hope she got back soon.

.

.

Yeah, that year sucked. Plus she took a 30% commission, even though I was on-site, actually settling the artwork. Setting up with the furniture guy is SO MUCH better. I'm hoping for good luck this weekend.

Want to look at some crazy-good arts-and-crafts style furniture?

[biganimal92]

update for the 4 of you reading this that care (this isn't meant to be pessimistic I just mean that very few of my friends follow me on here lol)

I feel like my art has been stagnating for a long time and it's mostly because I limit myself to fandoms and the attention I get for my fanart messes with the way I value my self-worth so a few months back I decided I wanted to start doing a lot more with my art to gain more personal fulfillment and to give myself a direction i actually wanted to take it in so that i felt like i was making progress and going somewhere with it. I was making plans to create a proper portfolio of things that weren't star wars yaoi or the dudes from fall out boy fucking, and I was planning on launching a YouTube channel where I posted speedpaints and stuff and I actually made some decent progress

I drew something I was really proud of and I knew the content in it would be pretty popular despite still technically being fanart, and I had a time-lapse recorded for it and everything, I was even halfway through the script. I also had a number of original drawings I'd done that I never posted anywhere and I felt like by this time I should have been able to properly launch this stuff and start taking appropriate steps to have my art reach a wider audience.

butttttt then my laptop died suddenly and randomly (i was literally using it just fine, i lifted it up from my lap and it shut off and wouldnt turn back on) and it's been in the repair shop for a week and they still don't know what's wrong with it. they think it's a motherboard issue and if it ends up being at least $600 to repair it I'm just getting a new laptop. I think they can transfer the data on the hard drive to an external that I have and if so that'd be wonderful because that laptop contains all the work I've been doing these last few months for this thing I wanna do with my art.

thankfully since then my roommate is letting me have one of his backup gaming pcs (he works in tech so he has plenty) and I've been able to get set up there in case I need to start my progress over, but the issue is that it's a Linux and clip studio literally doesn't work with Linux because the desktop version of the program apparently relies on either edge being installed if it's windows, or safari being installed if it's Mac. so I can't sign in or download the full version, I'm stuck with the super limited trial version, and because of this I've been trying to get comfortable with Krita. which thankfully can record time-lapses.

my mental health has only been improving since moving to Seattle despite some pretty low lows so thankfully, even though this is uh a pretty big deal all things considered, I'm handling it really well. I had one horrible encounter with a psychiatrist when trying to get treatment for my anxiety and adhd, but since my insurance here sucks since I'm poor and nothing has worked for my other issues I've been fortunate to be able to see doctors about, I've officially become a crystal mommy and I've resorted to ~alternative medicines~ and as a result I've had a considerable amount of improvement in a very short amount of time with the things I've struggled with getting help with from a professional psychiatrist. so yeah, I'm only getting better

biggest issue that still impacts me is that my attempts at befriending people irl have not borne much fruit, granted I haven't been trying super hard but with a huge covid spike coming up soon, said weak attempts are going to have to be put on hold for the time being. especially since the main thing I was literally going to do as soon as Christmas was over was join this drawing group that meets up every other Sunday, but now I don't have my laptop so it'll just have to wait regardless of what the state of things are looking like otherwise

uhhh what else. oh yeah I got into Chinese yaoi and Indian cinema and I got out of my head enough to start playing genshin impact again so basically I'm a huge faggot ama

OH SHIT I forgot to mention I got another horrible job and I'm kind of trapped into keeping it for at least a year unless something catastrophic happens because it's giving me really important experience in the field I'm trying to go into, but when I say it sucks I mean it's probably the most disorganized place I've ever worked at that wasn't a locally owned franchise. I work at an open-access low income healthcare organization that's all over Seattle so when I say it's terrible and disorganized I think you get the picture

anyway I don't know how often I'll be on here but I'm bored and lonely and scrolling through tumblr seems like a better use of my time than spending an entire shift looking at r/shittyfoodporn

[moki-dokie]

I wish I had the same tools and resources as other artists my age did in their formative years. I wish I had some of the tools I have now back then. I wish my brain worked like most people's and that I could visualize light sources and how it interacts with a subject. I wish I had the time and money to go take some real university art classes. I wish a severe years long battle with depression didn't rob me of creativity so badly that I lost what little skill I had. I wish I hadn't developed a bad tremor and twitch thanks to medication meant to fight that depression. I wish I had enough time in the day to actually do art how I want.

There's a ton of things I wish I could change, have, or do in regards to art. I'll never not be extremely envious of artists decades younger than me that are already so insanely skilled that they can pitch a portfolio to studios. I'll never not be jealous of peers my age that continue to grow and get even better at something they're already so good at.

But, at the same time, I've learned to be gentler on myself. I've forgiven myself for the things out of my control. And instead of staying stuck in an endless negative spiral and lamenting all the what-ifs and could-bes, I choose to go forward and make art anyway. I choose to have fun with it again, to doodle and experiment. I allow myself the freedom to start over and learn. I still don't have all the resources available to me that I wish I did but I won't let that stop me. It can still be extremely frustrating when I want to draw something and simply can't figure out how or when nothing turns out how it looks in my head, but it isn't the end of the world. I'll make something else, learn something new, and continue.

It's hard to start over in your mid 30s, but I'd rather do this than bang my head against a wall forever and hate everything I do to the point of not doing it at all. Finding the joy in creating again has been key. And sometimes that means sketching studies of cats for weeks on end because their anatomy is pleasing to work with and I can find myself learning while I'm at it, to the point that soon I won't need endless refs and I'll be able to draw them mostly from memory. Sometimes that means turning a funny meme into a full comic page just to challenge myself with expressions and panel layouts or to play around with color or grayscale. Sometimes it means leaving something I was working on for weeks or months and then coming back to it with a fresh perspective, new knowledge, and rekindled joy that made me start it in the first place. And, sometimes it's merely finding a bunch of tutorials and trying them out to see what happens.

It's crazy how much this ipad has really boosted my creativity. Not being tied to my PC is a huge bonus, as is the feeling of drawing on paper (bless paper like screen protectors!) And drawing directly on the surface. A stylus that behaves like an actual pencil (or pen, or brush, or whatever) has been tremendously rewarding and fun. I think a lot of my frustrations before were purely because I just didn't have the right tools. My Wacom was a piece of shit that only worked with sai which wasn't ideal. This is miles better, I really can't even describe it.

Anyway all this to say that if you're struggling with your art, it's ok. Be kinder to yourself, cut yourself some slack, and maybe just doodle pages and pages of silly looking cats for the hell of it. Whatever brings some measure of joy.

[looosey]

Lucy's Side Quest #5: Manic Drawing session

Big reveal: I'm Merch Chair of my dance team this year! Yayyy!!!

So I feel really lucky to have fallen into this position because the only experience I actually have designing a shirt is once for a club in high school. BUT my confidence in making a banger clothing line is so high. It's giving Dunning-Kruger effect (i.e. where those who have the least experience/knowledge of something have the most ginimonosaurus un-based confidence in their capability). Speaking of, idk why I'm explaining psychology to a bunch of 6-9's and 9.00 fans.

Anyways, I'm back at home because I'm trynna become an american this week and taking the civic exam here in Dallas. There's never anything to do in Texas, because it's so hot outside and my siblings are internet queens, so I just drew a bunch.

Even if it looks silly now, I have this vision of how these designs could look nice mix-matched on t-shirts, hoodies, or sweatpants. Some of the font inspiration is from Tyler the Creator's albums, and in general his Golf Wang brand. I probably should have waited till I created digital versions to post this, but I couldn't wait to share it. I'm a hoe for instant gratification.

This is another drawing to break in this sketchbook. I haven't used colored pencils to art in a hot minute. Like at least 8 years, holy shit.

I really don't know where I'm going with art. I listened in on the Figma design conference last week, and really thought hard about this 6-3 degree I'm gunning towards. I really want to. Need to. Do something creative in my job. I might go crazy otherwise. Not necessarily design, or dance, or music, or drawing, or writing. I don't know what, which is the problem. Do I just start making hella shirts and portfolios? I might actually start that Youtube channel.

It would be nice to have a mentor/advisor in media, and there must be so many at MIT... just how to reach the right ones?

[thessalian]

Thess vs AI

So, the SAG-AFTRA deal with Replica.

I posted a link about this yesterday, and reblogged several more, but it's something that's massively on my mind. Mostly because it frustrates the hell out of me on so many levels.

Like, this came up in one of the subreddits I follow, and there was this one guy there going on and on and on about how he wanted this exact thing - he wanted to buy voices like art assets because he couldn't afford to hire voice actors and wanted to "realise his dream". And obviously he didn't want to turn around to uni students who might do it for a portfolio reel, some pizza and a promise of a cut of the profits (if any, because seriously, like fuck is this dude's asset-flip bullshit going to sell to any massive degree); he wanted real actors ... except not, because you're not getting real acting out of a computer. (And I'll go back to that point in a minute.)

But ... I have stories that I'd love to turn into games. Thing is, though? If I can't afford actual actors to voice this shit, I will do without voices! A lot of games have done that and done pretty damn well, all things considered! Hell, Dredge has, like, two or three acknowledging noises and the entire rest of the thing is text only. Being able to work within your resource limits to create something wonderful is just ... how you do it, when you're being creative. Everything from movies to cookery demonstrate to us time and time again. So expecting to be able to buy someone's voice off a virtual shelf and plug it into your game just because you can't "realise your vision" without a voice actor voicing a thing? That's just cheap cop-out bullshit.

Going back to the point about real acting - it really grinds my gears that voice actors aren't actually considered actors by a depressing percentage of people. Like, again we have Reddit (sometimes I have to see what the non-Tumblr version of the internet looks like so I can cozy back up into my blanket fort and be glad I curate my online experience so well) going, "There are only just a very few voice actors, right?" when stating how this is fine because it's not going to affect that many people. Which ... dude. There are only a few famous ones that you know about. There are a surprising number of people who make their livings doing "additional voices" in video games and three lines of "shop clerk" or "third soldier from the left" in Western cartoons and anime dubs. It's the same problem actors have - so many people think that the only actors that exist are the really famous ones, not the ones who are doing whatever bit parts they can to pay rent and hopefully find a line on a better role at some point.

Also ... I guess it's a bit like how too many people don't consider actors who are predominantly in sci-fi, fantasy, horror, anything that isn't "serious cinema" as "real actors". When I personally respect those actors an awful lot. I'm sorry - you've got people expressing a mix of fear and defiant rage while staring at the fucking tennis ball standing in for the big-ass demon they won't see until the final cut of the movie. How can you not give that props? Similarly, voice actors are giving those performances to a blank wall. To use our most recent epic example, you've got Astarion giving those lines - everything from debonair malice to barely-controlled terror-pleading to pure trust and gratitude - to a wall. In a little soundproof room. He made up all that - everything he needed to - in his head, and he gave those lines, and it was epic.

A computer cannot do that. I've heard some of Replica's AI voices. Gods, they're awful. Maybe - maybe - you could get that shit for "reactive NPCs" (although I'd personally hate that; even if it was done right, it feels creepy ... and I get a kick out of wandering around a major city covered in blood and nobody appearing to notice, thanks), but it'd still be awful. And you couldn't do it with main characters. Or if you did (and you know some of these awful companies would try), it'd be just awful. We're a long way away from a nuanced performance from a computer.

I respect artists because of the work they put in. Hell, I'm one of them. I see the phrase "AI DM" (yes, one of D&D Beyond's things was talking about a VTT with the potential for an AI DM), and I shudder because ... have they met a D&D group? Ever? At all? How could an AI determine "rule of cool"? Just ... ugh. The idea of an AI scripting TV shows or writing novels ... as a writer, it makes me sick. And actors? They hardly get any respect as it is unless they're some of the big names who do Serious Cinema (or make a hell of a lot of money); this is just shitting all over them even worse. What happens to the next generation of voice actors if greedy-ass corporations give the little roles that most VAs cut their proverbial teeth on to a fucking computer?

I hate it. I keep saying - the whole thing about automation was that it was supposed to let machines do the grunt-work while humans created art, and now it's the other way around as art is considered "just another saleable commodity". So ... maybe it's not that video games stopped being considered art, as I was thinking awhile ago. Maybe it's just that art itself stopped being art, because the money-makers are chewing it up into one big spitball of off-grey blech and throwing it at a wall.

[azuzuzuzuzu]

The real way to defeat this curse is to treat the business-speak spellcasters like idiots for not being clear enough in what they want to achieve.

We have to up our productivity to meet our quotas and improve our metrics -> "Someone else should be doing more work so it looks like we are doing more work"

We should reach out to our client base with surveys and user feedback -> "User feedback would be good, someone should start doing that"

That's not my department, but we need to restate our core values and create an action plan for a strategy that'll greatly synergize our output -> "Someone in another department should make a plan"

But let's circle back to that later -> "Oh shit I had other things I wanted to talk about first"

We need to focus on our product -> Nothing of value is being said here

We need to produce content -> "Someone else (not me) should make some videos or post things on instagram"

We have to think outside the box and be proactive with our traditional culture -> "We gotta make a new product and make it seem very different to all the other products out there by tying it in to a vague cultural concept"

We've gotta return to the drawing board and address the elephant in the room -> "New plan, and lets talk about what went wrong"

Do we have the tools to succeed in this task? -> If they mean this literally, "Do we need to buy new software/hardware/tools etc". Otherwise, "Do we have enough Teamwork and Communication and Other Business Buzzwords to do this task".

We need more constructive feedback -> "We need better feedback cas the last feedback we got sucked"

This could be a game changer -> Probably not talking about Dropout TV's Game Changer, most likely just excited

We need to leverage our influence to really push the envelope and improve our portfolio -> "We should try to get this project going because it look good for us"

No need to reinvent the wheel, let's run this up the flagpole and touch base with management -> "I don't know the answer, lets make my boss figure this out"

I probably got a lot of these wrong tbh but I'm just guessing based on how some people at my own workplace speak.

A lot of the time this corporate speak is just filler words. When they say "we should do", what they usually mean is "someone else (not me) should do". They put a lot of words but that usually doesn't translate into having an actual plan of things to do (there's a lot of "we should do this" and not a lot of "Ok now here's what we're going to do").

Because of this, there's a whole lot of scary business words that get thrown at us, but when you unpack it they're not really saying anything at all. There's no real plan, but other people in the meeting will Feel like there's now some sort of plan, because the person who said all of that Sounded like they knew what they were talking about.

it’s sinple from 9 to 5 u just gotta be workpilled you gotta be emailcore focusedwave it’s true a neurotypical told me and they’re normal so I believe tgem

[ketbra]

sorry to bring up ancient history from mid-October, but someone who codes using AI tools IS a programmer, just like someone who uses them for art is an artist. Most programmers learned to code by copying other people’s code piecemeal, maybe tweaking the parts they could figure out until it did what they wanted, and it doesn’t make any difference if they get the code from an AI instead. People cribbing from Stack Overflow are programmers, people who code with those building-block UIs are programmers, people who write basic bash scripts for the commandline are programmers, people arranging machine instructions in binary are programmers. Do you see? They’re all creating. Where would we be if we had stopped at punchcards because typing a program was too easy? However easy we make it, there will still be further goals to strive for. (Also, anyone who claims you need to know bubblesort to be a programmer is a fool and probably a poser.)

Hi anon, I'm actually glad my posts from mid-october don't get read and forgotten and i really appreciate the question because I don't think this website has enough middle ground on the topic to have a conversation that isn't just hate from both sides.

So, I get where you're coming from, there are many different types of programmers and there are many different types of artists, and it's true that not all of them know bubblesort because maybe some programmers kept on working and developing other aspects (an assembly programmer and an html developer have surely different views on the same topic)

and it's so very much true that you can find code on stack overflow, or directly ask chatgpt for a function and you can add those strings to your code. or you can use tools for building the UI all you want

but there is a difference between asking AI tools for a piece of code and knowing how it works. You can have a completely working program or app that you ask AI to code for you and you might have the idea for that app, but if you don't know how the code works then you're not the one who programmed it. And I don't mean it to minimize anyone's work, but if one reads a piece of code, (with all the context needed to understand it) and doesn't know how it works, then that person isn't a programmer.

I'm not saying different types of developers need to know everything about every language, but they do know the one they're using.

The difference between copying a piece of code into your code and getting the code completely written by someone/something else is that in the first instance you know what you're doing and you're asking for help, in the second you're commissioning a final product.

And I think this can be applied to art as well, an artist knows so many things we take for granted, the pressure, how light and shadows work, anatomy, prospective, materials, contrast, which color evokes that specific emotion and so on.

Now, is every draw painted by a real person art? (tumblr is going to hate me for this but) no, not every draw is art, there's always a subjective element in these discourse but personally I don't think everything is art, or that everything is a ode to the human condition, sometimes one draws a doodle and it's fun and doesn't hold the weight of being called art.

Is every draw painted by AI shit? (and tumblr is going to hate me for this as well but) no. sometimes AI art is wonderful and sometimes it's just fun, I use it with friends, we make silly pictures to send eachother and birthday cards. and it's fun, and pretty and we're all programmers and it's harmless.

And the thing is, that I am pro AI-art just not in the way it is now. I think the scraping of every picture on the internet to train AIs has been a little invasive and kind of unfair. I think the best way to get AI tools and human artists together is to have AI trained on every classical painting and draw at museums and in history books, and then, if there are specific modern styles a company selling AI tools wants to add to its portfolio then they should get in contact with said artists and pay them for their work and ask permission to use their art.

the way I see it, it's like if you made a funny post on the internet, and a company copies and pastes it on their own profile and makes it look like it was its pr team who thought about it. And I mean they don't get anything directly out of it, but also there's a value in the image a company has online.

I think this answer is very long already and I just want to finish it with the actual answer to the question. I don't think AI artists can call themselves that. I don't think they're artists, they're for sure creative people and they can have good, great, ideas like everyone one else but if they don't have the knowledge to create those pieces on their own then they're not artists. Designers, picture architects, prompt makers, people with great ideas but not artists.

And before you tell me yeah but you still need some tools to make art, you can't not do it "on your own", yes but there's a difference between drawing with an ipad and typing a prompt into mid-journey.

You could end up with the same exact result and people might not even recognize one is AI but it's not the same thing as being an artist.

I can design a wool hat to the detail, but that makes me a designer, not a knitter. BUT those figures can and do collaborate, it's just that in this very moment AI tools aren't making it possible to have a conversation. they stole from the world wide web and they did it for profit. and it always ends up like this, it's always a marketing tool.

[blahberry-pancake]

So, I guess this is goodbye.

I've decided that the best thing for me to do right now will be to quit cc making. And before you all freak out, no I will not be deleting any of my cc. It's all gonna be available for you on Simsdom and my Tumblr page with everything on it.

My Patreon page will be hidden though and all exclusive content from there will be made public like right before this post so look below. There wasn't much exclusives there anyway.

First off, I really want to thank all of you for all the love and support you've given me throughout these... almost 5 years? Wow it's been that long? Anyway, thank you. If not for you, I'd probably never get to start my journey with 3D design and discover a passion for it.

And this is where I'll explain why I'm leaving for the curious ones.

So, I'm not gonna lie and sugarcoat anything. One part of cc making for me was the money, the other part was of course my passion for creating and seeing people enjoy what I make.

I had hoped I could make it my job and be able to support myself. Like I mentioned in a few posts before, I suffer with a lot of mental illnesses that prevent me from normal work and as you know, other people in the community have been able to make cc their jobs. So this is why I opened my Patreon. But it's been over a year and it didn't really kick off and things started falling apart. I stopped posting as much as I used to due to health and family issues. So not providing enough and not being good enough for people to support me on there was constantly on my mind, ironically preventing me even more from being creative. Plus disappointing the rest of you guys on here too.

But enough of that. Thanks to the support of my family through my recent mental breakdowns and everything, I've decided it's time to look for a job that could give me what I need. Money to support myself, medical insurance and finally, stability and routine. I'm a person who really needs routine in my life. And I'm getting way too old not to have stability either.

I want a job with a set amount of hours a day to work and then when that's done, I can do what I want. CC making couldn't give me that. I was constantly working. I never really had actual free time. When I did try to have a break, I'd feel bad for "procrastinating". I need time for my brain to unwind. To have that set time for relaxation and for work-time clearly divided.

So the only jobs I could do and qualify for are remote jobs. I found a whole lot of job offers for people with my skills to work for actual game studios! Mobile games, PC, whatever. What counts is that I might have a chance to actually do this and work in the gaming industry.

And even if that doesn't work out, there are other remote jobs I could try. Before shit hit the fan in the world, almost nobody offered remote work. And now it's almost in every offer so people like me can finally work too. I really need to try my luck with this. I'm sick of surviving instead of living. I haven't been able to look at my Facebook page in years because it constantly reminded me that people I went to school with are now either successful or just have stability in their lives and don't struggle this much. So that's the reason(s) I'm leaving.

Right now I need to focus on my mental health, polishing my resume and my portfolio. It really feels bittersweet because I really did enjoy giving you guys new content and being creative but it's time to spread my wings, try new things and maybe finally become a responsible adult. Once again, thank you all so, so much for the love and support you've given me. It was an incredible journey. I'll still be looking at my Tumblr from time to time so I won't be completely gone, just not making anything new. You might see some occasional likes on your posts here and there. And I might do an update after some time if things do work out for me. But... Goodbye for now! ❤️❤️❤️

[noodledesk]

a lot of you have asked how I actually use notion in my day to day life, so I’ve broken down my task manager for all of you! hope this helps :) happy notion-ing! 💖

my other posts on notion: goal setting 📚

edit: i’ve made my template available for everyone to duplicate here! happy notion-ing!

entire post below!

how I use notion to time manage, prioritize, & get shit done

how it works

all tasks (and I mean ALL!) are sorted into 12 categories in a 4 x 3 matrix. this method was adapted from @howtomusicmajor’s post, how to handle having too much to do, which i’ve linked in the post below. i’ve changed things slightly to fit my own personal preferences.

every row is how long a task takes. I’ve got the following: 5 min 30 min hours future

every column is when they are due. i have the following: today tomorrow later

future refers to my tasks that are more abstract, fit are kind of like goals, and aren’t as tangible as ‘Chapter 1 homework’. this allows me to write down everything I have the intention of doing in the near future without trying to quantify them right away. examples of tasks that go in future include:

create new portfolio website (takes a while, not a priority, but I’d LIKE to do it) submit to poetry journals (not pressing, but I want to do it in the near future and having it on my to do reminds me to make time for it) learn cinema 4d (again, kind of abstract, relatively large undertaking that I want to remind myself of)

what are these numbers?

the numbers refer to what order I do the tasks in. 1 is first, 2 is second, and under future, which are more abstract/ long term, the order goes from later, even later, and one day. the core of my tasks are in 1 to 5 for each day, and I move around the rest of the tasks as I see fit.

example of where these tasks go:

chapter 11 stats questions → 30 min & today or tomorrow

water plants → 5 min & today

make portfolio website → future & later

why sort it this way? why notion?

i use this method for 3 reasons:

prioritization: a grid allows me to discern from a glance what I have to do at any given moment, whats important, and what’s not. I also need to be able to move things around, so using a digital resource is better for me.

scheduling: I find that I work better when I can see all the tasks that I have to do in the next few days vs. one day only. I also don’t typically schedule out my days because I find it really difficult to estimate how long tasks take, so I will put tasks I think I can focus on for one day and move them around as needed. it allows for more flexibility in my days!

breaking up tasks: I’ll usually break up my ‘hours’ tasks into pieces, which I then put under 30 min, which allows me to avoid procrastinating. I only need to follow one rule: the numbers! always knowing what to do next with a way to break up tasks makes it a lot easier to tackle things.

how to actually build yourself a grid in notion

sometimes it’s a little hard to build your own customized page in notion, so I started off with a template that would let me speed up my process. I used the weekly agenda template under the Personal category, but any page similar will be fine for you. from there, I just moved around each block until I got a 3 X 4 rectangle.

make it something you WANT to use

some ways that I make my task manager cute and enjoyable to use (you have to like your system or you won’t use it!)

cute cover photos every few days (change things up to keep your tracker fresh!)

recent excerpts from poems I read (inspiration!)

emojis that follow a theme & fit my current mood (tip: you can also use any image or transparent art that you want, so it’s super customizeable!)

and that's it!

finally, what’s most important is that you customize the manager so that it works well for you. if you notice that a process works better a different way, definitely change it! this works remarkably well for me because I alter it as I encounter better solutions. that being said, I hope this post was helpful! changing to this tracker has helped me much better manage school, being vice president of two clubs, my hobbies (like this blog!), sleeping enough, and making time for what’s important to me :)

references: 

adapted from: https://howtomusicmajor.tumblr.com/post/130098710517/how-to-handle-having-too-much-to-do

art: https://hugolemonnier.tumblr.com/post/189172150081

poem by yang chia-hsien: https://aaww.org/summer-of-many-smokes/

[nohoney]

Eyes lit

notes: Artist Keigo is something I did not know I needed until I made my own dumb paintings lol. Title credit from Crimewave by Crystal Castles 

characters: Hawks/Keigo Takami

warnings: 18+, artist!Hawks, drug use, minor choking

summary:

You see swirls of purples and greens forming spirals that you’ve never thought of before, dancing like glitter being blown in the wind and then suddenly you see white. You’re thinking in tones of purples and pinks, they pulse and shine against a wall of white and now you’re thinking of Valentine’s day.

The blanket is pulled from over your head and you look up into golden honey eyes, they look even brighter and you swear that they glow as you look up into them. “You having fun under there babe?”

I’m not an artist, I don’t know how to paint. You told him, intimidated initially when you walked into his apartment and saw a box of paints along with two small easels. The only painting you’ve done was just with your fingers back in elementary school when you were a child, how were you supposed to paint alongside someone who’s a fucking art major who’s got a whole portfolio to backup his experience? But Keigo eased your worries, told you that there’s no need to be intimidated at all.

“You don’t have to worry at all about being good or anything like that dove. The trip will tell you what to paint.”

“It’s gonna look like shit when the trip is over Keigo.”

“Don’t say that dove, art is subjective. Trust me, when you’re on you won’t care as much.” He touches the small of your back and leads you towards the dinner table, “And besides, you might really like what you make in the end.”

“I don’t know what I want to paint.”

“The trip will tell you what to paint, you’ll see.”

Keigo has you sit down to eat first, just takeout pizza from a nearby restaurant along with some breadsticks. Barbecue chicken with a side of ranch, he doesn’t like pepperoni pizza at all. His first choice was fried chicken or wings but that’s damn near what you eat with him almost all the time so this is his compromise. He’s got a little basket of snacks and candy on his kitchen countertop, prepared ahead of time for tonight along with a plastic container of red and green grapes already washed.

“I don’t like grapes Keigo.”

“Trust me, you’ll be grateful to those grapes when you’re on dove.”

He brought out a plastic baggie from his fridge and set out the contents of it onto a wooden chopping board, watching as he broke up the small pieces carefully with a knife. You heard that acid comes in forms of little blotter paper or that people put a drop of it into sugar cubes and dissolve it in water to micro dose someone. Keigo cuts two pieces of what look like little window panes, very small fragments and when you inspect them closer, it almost looks as if there’s little gold flakes inside the gelatin.

“When will I know it’s kicking in?” you ask him, looking down at the tiny piece that sits in the palm of your hand. Such a small little thing that’s apparently a strong hallucinogenic, Keigo’s told you before that he’s felt his sensations cross over like hearing colors or seeing sounds. You had no idea what he spoke of but the best way to find out is to give it a try. “How long will it take?”

Keigo’s fixing up the easels in front of the couch, has blankets ready and is putting a video playlist up on his television. “Depends on the person but most of the time it tends to kick in after half an hour or so. You’ll know when you’re on, you’ll see it.” he explains.

You look around Keigo’s apartment, paintings he made himself hung up on the walls of his home. Most of his paintings were done sober but he’s got a few framed up that he’s particularly proud of that he made when he went on acid trips. He’s already such an amazing artist, certain pictures on his walls capturing your attention and invoking particular emotions from you. You’ve seen Keigo color match your sweater in just a mere manner of seconds, sampling little bits of paints and combining them until the hues matched exactly what you were wearing. And there’s you, just a mere amateur when it came to the arts. But Keigo assures you again that it’s not about making something ‘good’, it’s just there for you to have fun with it. He’s got canvases of all shapes and sizes for you to work with and that even though he’ll be on too, he’s definitely going to take care of you for your first trip.

You trust Keigo, it’s just the canvases and the paints that make you nervous.

He stands in front of you, smiling gently before leaning down to kiss you. His lips are soft, just a hint of vanilla you taste off his mouth because you let him borrow your chapstick earlier, and it’s so tender the way he holds your cheek in his hand that your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies tickle the inside of your tummy. You feel a little flustered when he pulls back, blonde hair swept back stylishly and a lazy grin on his face as he holds his own tab in between his fingertips.

“Cheers!”

The little tab goes underneath your tongue and you’re just supposed to wait for it to dissolve.

So Keigo puts on the playlist and the two of you talk for a little bit before moving to the art stations. “Choose whatever colors you want dove, choose the colors that you think will speak to you.”

You squeeze certain colors you think you want to work with into your little plastic palette, making sure to shake the bottles first and filling all the little spaces that’s meant to hold the paint. Keigo easily chooses the paints he knows he’s going to work with to start himself off and sets himself in front of his easel. He wears a simple red hoodie and gray sweats, comfortable loungewear for the next few hours and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t notice the print of his cock sometimes when he swiveled his hips a certain way. You wear pajamas pants and one of your soft sweaters, a gentle shade of lilac, perfect for keeping you warm on this rainy night.

You know you’ll be exhausted by the end of it, deciding to take acid for the first time overnight but at least you’ll have the next two days to recover.

And you’ll have Keigo as well.

He makes easy conversation with you, talking about how his week was and in turn asking how yours was. You look down at the paints in your palette as you talk back and forth with him, forcing yourself to not wonder how much time has passed. Your phone is by the kitchen table, placed face down so that you don’t obsess over the time so you try to measure the amount of time has passed based on the time of the videos playing on the television. Yet you start to care less about the time as you actually start to get caught up in the paints in front of you, experimenting and pleasantly surprised with how you came up with such a pretty violet color. You point it out to Keigo, stupidly excited over it but he smiles and agrees with you. “Such a pretty color dove, but not as pretty as you.”

His words make the butterflies flutter in your stomach again but you say nothing, turning back to your canvas and picking up a brush. For a few minutes you just stare back and forth between the paint and the white canvas, wondering how you should start off. Keigo obviously sees you concentrating too hard and reminds you, “Don’t think about it too hard, just paint and see what happens.”

Okay... so in other words, just do it.

So you take a deep breath, dip your brush in the paint, and make a single stripe at the very top edge of the canvas.

“See? Not so scary.”

“Y-Yeah, it’s not!” You squeak out, still embarrassed but a little less intimidated now that you actually started it. You’re not exactly sure what you’ll do with it but there’s no harm in just winging it.

Hm... wings...

You glance over to Keigo, one of his sleeves rolled up and his tattoo visible on his forearm. It’s a detailed wing on his forearm inked in only black, the very tip of it extended towards his elbow and he’s got a matching one on his other forearm as well. You remember the first time you saw them and how Keigo let you run your fingers over his tattoo, watching in amusement over how fascinated you were.

Back to your canvas, you see the sheen of the fresh paint on the white canvas and decide to add more to it. Maybe you’ll get inspired the more you add to it, thinking what colors compliment violet and what exactly you could create. Over the next few minutes you just continue painting the violet further onto the surface of the canvas, looking down briefly at the black paint that’s also in your palette and wonder if you could try painting a mountain. You recall plenty of times looking up at the sky when you were done hiking and just in awe of the colors of the sunset, hues of purples and reds and orange that invoked a certain feeling in your chest.

A sunset... a sunset!

Easy enough yeah?

You just have to add red, orange, yellow, probably a touch of blue... some clouds would be nice too.

So you spread more of the purple across the canvas, concentrating hard at first before realizing something. “Keigo?”

“Yes dove?”

“I think my painting is breathing.”

Keigo laughs from his side and you feel his hand ruffle your hair affectionately.

You look hard at your canvas and swear that you can see the paint inhale and exhale, the veins of the paint pulse in the painting. Wait... veins? You don’t remember painting anything like that, all you did was just cover part of the canvas to get you started. The longer you stare at the canvas, you swear that you can see the paint drip down slightly, the canvas inflating and deflating, and hidden designs on the untouched parts of the white canvas.

The acid had finally hit.

“Keigo... I think I’m on.” you say as you dip your brush into the water cup to wash off the violet, this time into the yellow paint and haphazardly brushing it onto the canvas before switching over to the bright red without washing off the yellow. You think how powerful the color red is, how strong and overpowering it is on the canvas and you tell Keigo, “I think you’d look gorgeous with red wings Keigo.”

Keigo is concentrated on his own canvas but he does glance over to you and smiles how you’re suddenly so into painting when you were so reluctant at first when you walked into his studio. He watches you blend the red into the yellow, wondering what exactly is inspiring you and what your finished product will be. “Ah how interesting dove, you comparing me to an angel?”

“Angel wings are white, I said your wings would be red.”

“Why red?”

You shrug your shoulders as you brush some blue onto the violet on the top of the canvas, blending the blue and violet together. “I don’t know, just suits you a lot... I wore wings last year, I was an angel last year for Halloween.”

“You dressed like an angel last year for Halloween, you certainly didn’t act like one.”

Suddenly the memory of last year’s Halloween comes rushing to the front of your memory and you begin to giggle, needing to set your brush down and have your little giggle fit; he was very right, drunk shenanigans in your angelic costume while holding White Russians with your friends surfacing to your mind. You don’t know why you’re so amused but you are, leaning back against the couch and curling yourself into a ball. You pull the blanket over your shoulders, pulling the bottom corners into your lap and you look down in awe. You swear that even though you’re sitting still, the blanket looks like it’s pulsing as well and you can see the small fibers of it sticking out from the surface. You can’t help but pick at one and hold it in between your fingertips, staring for a few seconds before releasing it.

Moving to lie on your side, you press your cheek into the couch cushion and stare at the painting you just started. It looks weird right now, purple on top with yellow and red in the middle but you’re determined that you’re going to paint that sunset!

You look over towards Keigo, seeing that he started off his canvas a golden yellow at first and is brushing a crimson red on top of it as well. It sort of reminds you of fire and you wonder what he’s seeing. You pull the blanket over your head, sheltering you from the bright lights of the room and you stare at your own hands right in front of your face. Every line and wrinkle is moving, like they’re switching places on you and you ‘ooh’ quietly. When you shut your eyes, it’s not a straight darkness you see like when you close your eyes and go to bed. You see swirls of purples and greens forming spirals that you’ve never thought of before, dancing like glitter being blown in the wind and then suddenly you see white. You’re thinking in tones of purples and pinks, they pulse and shine against a wall of white and now you’re thinking of Valentine’s day.

The blanket is pulled from over your head and you look up into golden honey eyes, they look even brighter and you swear that they glow as you look up into them. “You having fun under there babe?” Keigo asks you, clearly amused to have looked back and saw you as just a lump under his blanket. “Yeah, looks like you’re having fun.”

“Hehehe... yeah.” you smile up at him, pushing some of your hair back from your face. You look as he presents a single red grape to you, drops of water still on it to let you know that it had just been washed and while grapes weren’t your favorite fruit to eat, somehow they looked so appetizing in that moment. You open your mouth and Keigo places the fruit into your mouth, chomping down and it’s so juicy and firm and crunches so loud in your head that you moan as you chew.

Delicious, it’s delicious!

Keigo feeds you grapes every so often, whether you’re sitting in front of your canvas to continue painting, looking at the television and the visuals presented along with the music, get up to look at his other paintings that you think are whispering or waving to you, or when you decide to just stare at the tapestry he hung up in front of his balcony. You understand why tie dye is so appealing to look at now, you know for sure it’s not the wind making the tapestry move, the colors waving at you and you try to reach into the tapestry, your fingertips just barely grasping the colors in front of you.

“How long has it been Keigo?” you ask as you continue to look at the tapestry.

“It’s almost eleven, so it’s been three hours since we took it.”

Wow, three hours...

You’re not sure how the passage of time is feeling for you, everything is looking warped and you suppose that your sense of time is included in that as well.

You feel hands under your armpits and your lifted up to your feet, leaning back and touching the arms that hold you securely. The tattooed wings on Keigo’s forearm, the feathers look as if they’re rustled, they look like they need to be preened. It’s important for birds to preen their feathers so that their wings look presentable. “Okay dove, time for a bathroom break. Think you’ll need my help?”

No, you’re a big girl, of course you can go to the bathroom yourself.

Though you do have to ask Keigo to hold your hand, looking down at the floor and not trusting your own feet. It’s like you’re looking through a fish eye lens, like the floor seems so much wider and closer to you. Keigo says something to you when he drops you off at the bathroom but you don’t hear him, humming absently and you close the door. You do your business and wash your hands, using the nearby hand towel to dry off your hands and then you look up at the mirror.

You lean forward and inspect your pupils, they’re blown up and you think you can see shifting colors in your iris. You really are on, pulling back and inspecting your reflection. Now you feel like you’re caught, not sure if you recognize the person who’s looking back at you and... and... is the shower curtain moving towards you? Is that really you in the mirror? Your hair is never this mussed up and the color of your shirt you always liked before but why did it look so weird on you now?

“Dove, I’m coming in.” Keigo announces and slowly pushes open the door so that he doesn’t catch you in any indecent state. But he sees you just staring intently at your reflection and just comes up behind you, pressing his front to your back and tilting your head back to look at him. “Ah got caught looking at yourself in the mirror huh? S’alright, the first time I did acid apparently I spent a half hour just looking at my own reflection too.”

His eyes are the color of honey and you think you can suddenly taste it in your mouth, you imagine it. “Your eyes are pretty.”

“You’re pretty.”

But you shake your head at the compliment and ask, “Did I always look so weird Keigo?” you ask him, reaching one hand up and brushing the tips of your fingers along his stubble.

“No you never look weird, you’re always so cute.” he reassures you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Go back to the living room, lemme have my bathroom break and I’ll join you in a hot minute.”

“Don’t fall in the mirror.” you say absently as you walk out the bathroom and shut the door. You hold onto anything you can to help balance you, the floorboards beneath your feet look as if they’re trying to trip you up but you manage on your own to make your way back to your spot on the couch, staring at your unfinished painting.

What... what was I making again?

Violet, blue, red, yellow... oh yeah, the sunset.

Keigo really was right when he said that trip would decide what you would paint.

You don’t hear the bathroom door open but you look up as Keigo comes into your vision and ask, “How do I make clouds?”

“How do you mean? Like how clouds are made in the sky? Well you see clouds are made of water droplets that are so small that they’re able to stay in the air. You see the water vapor-” Keigo starts on what you know is a very educational lecture on clouds but you stop him with a whine, pointing to your canvas. “Oh... oh! You want to know how to paint clouds. Haha, sorry dove!”

Keigo makes himself comfortable right behind you, your bodies once again pressed to one another as he hands you the palette of paint and picks up a different paint brush has you hold it in your own hand but he covers it with his own; you’ll hold the brush while he controls your movements. So he dips the paint brush in the white paint, also adding in a touch of red that almost makes it pink and you gasp. It’s not gonna go together! you think but Keigo hushes you, tells you to just trust him. And although you’re watching how he dabs the paintbrush onto your canvas, you’re not really perceiving the process. One minute it’s a messy slate of purple, yellow and red and then boom suddenly there are clouds that actually create a picture. “Ah you were trying to make a sunset, I can see why you wanted to paint clouds. Very creative, I’m proud of you!”

“I did that?”

“You did!”

He praises you as if you were a child doing it for the first time... though you actually are painting for the first time and honestly it actually is coming out pretty nice, though it’s only thanks to the help of Keigo. So you look back at him, pressing your lips against briefly and whisper out, “Thank you.”

Returning back to his canvas, you decide that you can continue painting on your own. You close your eyes and try to remember any memory that contains a sunset, whether it was through your own eyes or perhaps looking at images on the internet. You try your hardest, your mind producing more interesting shapes and patterns of colors that almost distract you but you’re going to pain that sunset damn it! So you blend the colors on the canvas, adding in more tones of violet and purple towards the bottom to cover up the blank spots. You thought about adding in a mountain or some trees but you feel that’s much too advanced for you to attempt, though you know that you can ask Keigo again but he already helped you once. Now you were determined to do another by yourself.

You ask if you can have another canvas and Keigo gets up to the little pile of untouched ones. When he hands you one and ask if it’s a good size, it’s a question you can really answer because the way he holds it out to you makes it seem to long. And realizing that your perception is altering the way you look at the canvas, he holds it upright for you and you ask for something a little bigger.

Carefully setting aside the sunset painting... whoa it’s like the clouds are really moving!

Focus.

You set up the new blank canvas in front of you, wondering what to make next.

“Ah I almost forgot, I got this for you too while I was at the craft store.” Keigo tells you as he brings up the box paints, holding out a tube of-

“Ooooh... glitter.” you awe at the opalescent colors, holding it against the light to see sheens of white and pink and purple. You’re not sure if it’s the acid or not but it looks extra pretty and you shake the little tube in your hand.

“Have fun with it just uh... make sure to not get too messy.”

You could imagine such pretty colors like the stars and them falling into your eyes... oh, you could make a starry night for your next painting. So you enthusiastically brush more violet and blue onto the new canvas along with a touch of black to make a dark sky. The canvas breathes at you and you think that the more color you add to it, you think you can hear it sigh in relief. You blend it all together and wonder what else you could add to it. You drift to the palette and zero in on the white paint, exchanging your current paint brush for a smaller one, dipping it into the white paint and just making little dots here and there to represent the stars. Then you open the tube of fine glitter and you’re particularly giddy; your painting is going to be amazing, it’s going to look exactly like the night sky... no even better! It’ll be like the cosmos!

You must have been a little overzealous with the glitter on your painting because Keigo nudges a towel just right underneath your easel and you feel him pat down your feet.

Careful with the edges of the painting since it’s still wet, you gently shake off any of the excess glitter and then lean back to really inspect it. In the moment it really looks like a beautiful starry sky and you think that you can literally see shooting stars in it, so sparkly and pretty in the moment. You pull the blanket back over your body and crawl your way to Keigo’s side of the couch, sitting behind him and perching your chin atop his shoulder. Weird, you could have sworn that when he first started painting he started off with yellow and red, he’s painting over it with blue and green now. “Keigo, what are you painting?”

“I don’t know. I started off thinking about fire at first and then all of a sudden I just started putting green and blue together... I think I might have been either thinking about the ocean or the forest... I forget.” Keigo explains, still not stopping his paint brush over the surface. You guess that even artists start off sometimes nonsensical too and that they don’t always have a clear idea how their end product might come out. But you still admire it anyway, reaching your hand out and loosely holding onto his wrist. His arms look even longer from where you’re looking and yet he’s sitting so close to his painting at the same time.

Perception sure is a strange thing when you’re on.

He smells nice, pressing your nose into his neck and breathing in his cologne, humming in delight and pressing yourself even closer to him.

Now you’re not exactly the bold type, every once in a while you’ve decided to make the first move but most of the time you let others give you the signal first before you flirt back. Already you and Keigo have been seeing each other for a few weeks, a few dates here and there but you’ve yet to progress anything spicier than a few make outs and maybe some teasing touches. So it comes as a surprise to him when you drag a hand down from his chest and let it rest in between his spread legs, groaning when you lick the shell of his ear and nibble on it. “B-Babe... we’re supposed to be... to be...”

“Painting? That canvas isn’t the only thing you can paint Keigo.” you whisper in his ear, feeling for his cock in his gray sweats and pleased that you can feel that he’s getting hard. You form your hand over his cock and stroke it through the sweats while your other hand drags over his arm, still stretched out towards the painting but now his arm is tense. “For example... you can paint me with your cum. Inside or out, I’ll let the artist decide.”

Keigo sets down his paint brush and his palette before tugging you to his bed.

It’s dark in his room when he shuts the door but you’re quickly put on the surface of his bed. You can hear him fiddling around somewhere in the corner of the room and then red light fills the room, it’s pretty basic of him to own those strip lights seeing as you’ve had more than a few friends decorate their room with it too but now isn’t the time to critique the mood lighting. You do have to wonder why the color red, why not just put on the regular ceiling lights?

He’s on you once the lights are on, pulling off your pajama bottoms and setting them to the side for the time being. Spreading your legs open, Keigo starts off with kissing the inside of your thighs and slowly goes up higher. Your panties are still on but you moan softly when he kisses your pussy through the cotton, then it’s up to your belly button, pushing your sweater up along with the soft bra you decided to wear tonight as stops to pay attention to your breasts, nipples perked up to the cold air along with the way Keigo flicks his tongue over them. While he sucks hickies onto your breasts, you run your hand through his hair and look up at the ceiling, you think you can hear the flap of a bird’s wings and think something flutters from the corner of your eye. “K-Keigo... is it okay for us to do this while we’re on?”

“You’re safe babe, I’m here.” he assures you as he helps tug off your sweater over your head. “Just focus on me, I’ve done this before.”

Oh great, he didn’t just allude that he’s fucked other people on acid before did he?

Keigo seems to catch his choice of words and grinds his clothed cock against your panties and gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just mean that sometimes sex on acid can be a precarious thing to engage in, I just wanna let you know that I got you.” he presses the pad of his thumb where he guesses your clit is. “You trust me yeah?”

Yeah, I do.

“How about a little art lesson for ya? That’ll help get you in the mood and you’ll learn something interesting.” Keigo takes off his sweats and his underwear, leaving you the only one who’s almost naked in the room. The music still plays from the living room, smooth guitar and easy beats still reach your ears. “You wanna know why I made the lights red? Red provokes the strongest emotion and is considered the warmest and most contradictory of the colors. Can you tell me some things you think of when you think of the color red?”

Apples, firetrucks, blood.

“Red is one of the most visible colors in the spectrum, its the kind of color that’s an attention grabber which is why it’s used to warn people of danger. Red can convey a sense of danger,” Keigo explains this while he pets you through your panties, it’s almost leisurely the way he does it but he can see how you quiver underneath his touch. “but it’s also associated with excitement, that even sometimes just being exposed to the color can cause elevated blood pressure and heart rate.”

Your heart rate is certainly up right now and it’s not just because of the acid.

You feel Keigo pull your panties to the side and easily glide a finger in but he wants something in return as well, “Spit in your hand and stroke my cock.”

As you stroke Keigo and he gently fingers you, he continues on about his lesson on the color red. “So along with danger, excitement, there’s also aggression and dominance. There’s not exactly a clear reason why red is associated with dominance, maybe it just goes hand in hand with feeling aggressive, perhaps also representing power as well.”

“K-Kei... please get to the point!” you whine, sitting up with one hand braced on the bed while the other continues to stroke him. He’s added another finger and you notice that he’s put a little bit more vigor in his actions. “Please won’t you just-”

“Most of all though, my little bird,” Keigo continues over you but you can take a guess where this ‘art lesson’ is going by the way his lips quirk up and how is voice drops. “red is also linked to passion, love, and desire, that it’s apparently a very attractive color. You remember what color you wore the first time we met?”

“You... you saying that you only liked me ‘cause I was wearing red?” you ask, a breathy laugh leaving your lips but then whine as Keigo strokes your g-spot and you almost dropped back onto the bed but he’s quick to catch you. He quickly pulls his fingers out of you and winds it around your waist to pull you flush against him and settles you in his lap, your hand trapped between your bodies but you continue to jerk his cock despite the limited space.

Keigo chuckles along with you, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck and give you a gentle bite. “Aha I’m just teasing you dove, it was your cute face I saw first and besides, you weren’t wearing a red shirt when we first met... You were wearing red panties, I remember seeing them when you bent over in that short little black dress.”

“You’re embarrassing.” you mumble, adjusting yourself so that you hover over his cock, slapping the head of it against your clit. “And that wasn’t an art lesson, that was more like color psychology.”

“You still learned something, did you not?”

You cup Keigo’s cheeks in your hands, kissing him briefly and pull back to tell him, “I’m not looking to learn anything except how your cock feels inside me.”

So you brace your arms around Keigo’s shoulders, sighing as he eases himself into you slowly. His hands hold your ass, gently lifting you off his cock and then easing you down again to take him further, repeating the process until his girth was sheathed all the way inside you. You gasp together, you at his size and him at your tightness, hands all over each other and you’re wondering where his body begins and yours ends. Whatever other cocks you had inside you before, they’ve never felt like this when they first entered you.

And then the two of you are moving in sync with one another, holding each other’s gaze, just barely able to see the reflection of each other in your blown out pupils. You can’t really see the honey gold of his eyes thanks to the lights but you you think you can taste it still, every time you just taste that sweet nectar when you look into Keigo’s eyes. It must mean how sweet he is, that must be why his eyes are colored like that.

He’s sweet like honey.

Again, you hear the flap of a bird’s wings even though you know the bedroom window isn’t open.

It’s slow and sensual at first, sex on acid is something more heightened, something indescribable behind the sensations as you lean back slightly to roll your hips while you meet Keigo’s thrusts. Your hands locked behind his neck and your head lolling back, a sensual sigh from you when you feel a hand go to your throat. A breathy ‘yes’ spills from your lips as the pads of the fingers carefully press at the sides of your neck; feels good, feels so good...

Suddenly you’re pushed onto your back, gasping in surprise at first and then uninhibited moans as he viciously fucks you. And what can you do but take it, take all of it, peering at him through the haze of pleasure and the peak of your high when you see it.

Bright red wings spreading from Keigo’s back, brighter than the lights, the feathers ruffle and seem to groan alongside him, he’s losing himself in this carnal moment, bracing himself over you and the wings coming forward as well. You feel floaty, almost as if the wings are carrying you themselves, you think you can feel feathers tickle your skin while Keigo’s hands have your hands pinned above your head, your ankles locking just right above his buttocks.

It feels like the sex is lasting forever, that as fast and hard Keigo pumps into you it feels never ending. In truth you don’t know how much time has actually passed, just that the passage of time seems longer. But it feels good, you feel one with Keigo and even just the slightest clench of your fingers intertwined with his feels even more intimate. His panting, your whimpers, the music, the lights, the flapping of the wings, and you crying out his name.

Even as you clench your eyes shut, swirling patterns of hues of red dance behind your eyelids. They seem to move in time with Keigo’s tempo, every slap of his hips connecting with your body, they respond accordingly. You feel one of his hands drawn down from your neck, past your breasts, giggling when he goes over your belly button, and groan when he plays with your clit.

He praises you, tells you how good you’re doing even though you’re just lying there and taking it, you try to participate by rolling your hips up to meet his but his power is just too overwhelming. “Kei... Kei... go, it feels so good...!”

You wriggle your other hand free from his and pull him down, practically hugging him and bringing him even closer, eyes shut hard as he goes into double time. His face is pushed into your neck, breathing hard into it and you think you can hear his wings flapping even harder. His hands hold your waist, just lifting you up slightly so that your back slightly arches.

Soft skin against rough hands.

“Where you going to paint your cum Keigo?” you ask, your lips just barely brushing against the shell of his ear. “All over my face? My tits? Maybe... even turn me around and blow it all over my back?”

“Fuck! Keep talking like that! ’M gonna cum dove... I’m gon’a cum!”

You push him back just enough and once again cup his face in your hands, “Look at me when you cum.”

Jittery nods of his head, he’ll absolutely obey anything you want as long as you don’t let him leave inside of you. All over your face would be so nice, your tits even nicer, he hasn’t pulled out to cum on someone’s back in months but fuck when you mention it, it’s so fucking enticing. But nothing beats when it’s oozing out, like ice cream melting on a hot day as it drips so he has to ask you if it’s okay. “Babe... can I paint you inside babe?”

Does an artist even have to ask permission to paint their canvas?

“Yeah... paint me white inside.”

And that’s all permission he needs, a few harsh thrusts and he cums with you, his cum shooting inside you while you gush around him, almost like it’s trying to push him out. But he stays inside you, his visit isn’t over quite yet, he doesn’t want to leave, not when he feels so connected with you.

You catch your breath, blinking your bleary eyes and see all of those red feathers slowly leave Keigo’s back. You don’t know how many there are, maybe two hundred or something like that, but you watch them leave one by one, almost as if they’re each being controlled individually. You think Keigo is the one that’s dismissing the feathers and you reach out towards them; you never got the chance to touch them.

Hands sliding down his back, you express a mild disgust over how sweaty Keigo is, “Ew... take a shower.”

“Only if you come with me.” Keigo chuckles pushing himself off you but wiping at your forehead as well. Geez, you hadn’t even realized you sweated too.

So the two of you stand under the warm shower spray, he lathers his shampoo and conditioner into your hair first, washing it out for you before you return the favor for him. You note how even more intimate this is compared to the sex before, looking up into his eyes and you give each other an endearing smile. The peak has been passed and now the acid will ease off, already things look a little less distorted and the intense distortions don’t feel like they used to when you first started.

“How are my eyes dove? Getting lost in them?” Keigo chuckles but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer, choosing to kiss you instead. “Did you mind that our first time was on acid?”

“No, it was good.” you tell him as you draw a single line on his collarbone with the tip of your finger. “I can’t wait to have regular, sober sex with you.”

“Hehe, I hope it compares well to my first performance.”

“I don’t know,” you singsong to him, “maybe you set the bar too high having first time on acid.”

“Well don’t say that now.”

The two of you laugh together, he playfully pushes your head but pulls you back in for another kiss. The water runs down both of your bodies and you pull back, looking down at the ground. Keigo thinks that you’re looking down at his cock and that you might be up for another round but you look back up at him and ask, “My feet are like a million miles away... have I always been this tall?”

You dry up together and change into clean clothes, returning to the easels and you’re surprised that the television still is playing music from the playlist. After so long without having your phone, you check the time to see that it’s well into two in the morning and it’s no wonder that you feel tired, not just from the sex but how late it was as well.

You curl up onto the couch while Keigo still works on his painting, the last thing you see were your sunset painting alongside the starry night one, the clouds shifting on one and the other still sparkles with shooting stars.

━━━━✧

“Ugh, I told you that they’d look like shit when the trip is over.”

“Don’t say that, they look fantastic.”

You hold up both of their canvases and each hand, looking deadpan at him with tired eyes. “This one looks like I just puked glitter on it and the only part of this one that is good are the clouds that you helped me paint!” you sigh out and look down at each of the paintings. You knew it, you weren’t an artist after all and you had thought that you did such a good job last night.

Keigo takes your starry night painting and brings it over to the sink, banging the edge of it gently a few times to shake off any glitter that didn’t dry on the paint before handing it back to you. “See, now it looks a little less like glitter puke and I have to tell you this dove, but you painted those clouds yourself.”

Huffing at him, you set down the starry night painting and look down at your sunset painting. “Keigo, I know I was on last night but you for sure helped me paint the clouds. I remember that part pretty clearly, don’t try to treat me like I’m a kid and say some bullshit to make me feel better.”

“I helped you get started but I saw that you picked it up on your own and you painted the rest of it yourself, I swear.”

“Keigo-”

He stops you with a soft call of your name and even though the two of you are tired as hell and feel disassociated from your own bodies and personalities, something tugs in your heart that way he says your name. “I’m serious, I helped you start making the clouds but you actually got the hang of it and watched you do it yourself. I told you the trip would tell you what to paint and you did it!”

You still look disbelieving at him, swearing that you thought you felt his hand help you paint last night. But then again, you also thought you saw one of his paintings of a balloon flying away too so maybe he might be telling the truth. It’s a little hard to discern what were your actions that actually happened versus what was in your mind. Much like the wings you thought he sprouted when the two of you had sex.

“Can you just show me yours? I fell asleep before I could see what you made.” He hands you his own canvas and you stare hard at it, looking back and forth between him and the painting in your hands. “Did you make another one last night?”

“Nope, I used that one canvas the entire night.”

“Didn’t you start off painting it with yellow and red? How did you end up with,” you turn the painting around to show him, “painting this?”

Delicate pinks and purples dotted just right to look like wisteria flowers and a big tree trunk in the very center of it. It just wasn’t fair that he was so good at conceptualizing these kinds of things. You have to wonder if he just had a natural talent for it or if it was something he honed over time. Either way, you know he didn’t get that art degree for nothing.

Keigo chuckles and sets aside his painting. “I looked at your sweater last night and thought I saw wisteria flowers sprouting out, I got my inspiration from you. Also you seemed really into the color purple last night so that helped too. Although you did also give me an idea last night too.” he takes your hand in his, pulling you close to him and reaches one hand underneath your shirt, his palm resting on the small of your back. “That whole ‘paint me thing’ you said yesterday... I was wondering if one day you’d let me paint on you?”

You tilt your head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Like... just let me paint on your body one day. I can get those body friendly paints and just make a picture on you.” Keigo explains with a sheepish smile coming onto his face despite how tired he looks. “It kinda turned on me on last night when you said you wanted me to paint you inside and I just thought ‘well what if I actually did?’ But not with my cum I mean, though I wouldn’t mind that either.“

The thought of laying down for Keigo while he does such a thing, it sounds quite intimate. You look into his eyes, his pupils still a little wide but it’s only a few more hours for the acid to exit your bodies. It was intense last night but you were glad to have done it with Keigo and even though you think the art you did last night is sort of crap now, you can’t deny that it was sort of fun to do it still. 

Your paintings lay to the side, his own stupidly good wisteria painting sitting alongside your glittered starry night and sunset painting. Strange how your eyes perceived everything last night from elongated lengths, the dynamically changing colors you saw when you shut your eyes, you felt everything alive around rather than thinking of the furniture as mere static objects, the red wings and feather you swore you felt against your skin when Keigo fucked his cock into you, everything was beautiful and you couldn’t have asked for a better first time.

You’d like to do it again.

“Can I dove? Can I paint on you one day?”

“... Yeah, I’d like that.”

[nightglider124]

Just as a heads up, my writing may take a bit of a backseat soon. I’m behind by a few chapters with Subscribe as it is and Bound is still sitting there waiting to be completed and posted.

Long story short, I really fucking hate my job nowadays. To the point, I have basically no love left for it at all which is sad cos’ I still love the people I work with and I love the role in parts but I’m just sick of changes being brought in which in no way benefits actual users of the library. Also, it’s been really highlighted how senior management literally give no fucks about their staffs well fare and safety.

I have really had enough of face to face customer experience as well. I’ve been dealing with customers since I left school at 18 and went into my first job of working in a bookstore. People just treat you like absolute shite and it is so frustrating cos’ you can’t say what you’re actually thinking for risk of losing your job so its a case of biting your tongue all the time.

The general spark I had for my job 5 years ago is basically well and truly gone. I don’t feel happy going in each morning anymore and honestly, I’ve been having way more shit days than good ones just recently.

This is a super long rant just to say, I wanna start getting back into artwork and creating stuff. I used to make and create artwork all the time. Given, I have never really uploaded much here but I do wanna get back into that.

So, there may be some blips where writing gets put on pause cos’ if I ever wanna get into a graphics role, I need to work on my design skills a little and get a portfolio going and as of right now, it’s… lacking.

I’m still going to be writing and updating but, just in case it is on the slow side, this should hopefully explain it.

Sorry for the absolute mess of a rant. 😘😂

[snowboiwinwin]

The Boyz as my University Professors

Disclaimer: Some of my professors are evil bitches; none of the boys are truly evil and I am in no way implying they are or trying to make them look bad! I love the boys and I just thought it would be a fun thing to post :D

-------------------------------

Sangyeon: 

the one professor that absolutely loves the topic of his class

super wholesome and smiley throughout the 90 minutes class time

getting super close to the camera (actually to the mic) because he is worried students won’t hear him well enough

always asking questions and encouraging students to interact

not offended when something isn’t clear and therefore students don’t know the answer

reading EVERY. SINGLE. MESSAGE written in the chat (sometimes students have mic problems or don’t wanna speak)

making everyone feel valid and appreciated

being super calm and relaxed

barely doing breakout-rooms cause he knows no one likes them

ending class always a little earlier cause “I know how stressful your life can get.”

just the cutest prof out there

Jacob: 

another sweet guy

never holds class at its normal timeframe

just uploads all the files students will need (although attendance is supposed to be mandatory)

“you guys are all grown-ups, I trust you to decide yourself when it is the best time for YOU to study.”

constantly uses smileys and is therefore super popular with students

doesn’t teach many classes, cause which good prof does that? ugh

gets right back at students when they email him their concerns

and no, you don’t get half-assed answers

you get a very detailed answer, which is rare in university life

THANKS STUDENTS FOR SENDING HIM THEIR HOMEWORK!!!!

“Dear [name of stundet], thank you very much! 😊”

offers students to call him by his first name

“I’ll call you by your first name too if that’s okay... creates a more comfortable atmosphere!”

the best <3

Younghoon:

he is a savage professor

his look is hella scary and students fear taking his classes

but he is actually the coolest and most laid back dude ever

the first time class is held, he comes in, stone cold expression and literally throws his bag on the desk - everyone is hella scared

then he says, in the scariest voice ever, “We can have fun here in class, no problem, but i AM YOUR PROFESSOR. NOT YOUR FRIEND. Remember that.”

*everyone scared to death*

“Welcome to class everybody! My name is Mr. Kim and I am very looking forward to teach this class in our summer term! Feel free to ask any question that might come up and don’t hesitate to reach out to me whenever!”

no need to be scared, he is a sweetheart

strict and has high expectations, but won’t overdo it with homework or assignments

constantly jokes around but then switches back to being serious

he creates a nice atmosphere where students want to learn something and do it voluntarily 

cares for his students and appreciates their hard work - especially during the pandemic

“I know this is not easy for any of us but I am so amazed by your guys’ work this semester. It was an absolute pleasure teaching you. I hope to see you guys again, but not in this class. Please don’t fail.”

I love him

Hyunjae:

omg, he is an absolute legend

class starts and he is doing his introduction part

the class i about british literature 

“Welcome to this literature class, you are in for a long ride!”

so far so good right?

“Let me just say, British Literature is an ABSOLUTE shit show!”

when I tell you, I almost died hearing that (no offense to anyone, pls don’t take my profs words to heart... he lives for british literature 🥺)

he definitely has his students hooked with this one sentence

“the teacher that taught this class before me... what was he even talking about! I mean, british literature is so much more than what he made it out to be!”

basically starts ranting  

teaches with so much passion

can’t forget the jokes here and there

also uses smileys which students seriously love (at least I do)

wants students to be informal with him as well

“moving on to this next topic... a little disclaimer before we start: I will go batshit crazy with this topic because I LOVE IT. So please tell me to shut up when I exceed the 10 minutes mark. Thank you!”

A savage legend that everyone loves

sadly only teaches a handful of classes as well

Juyeon: 

super laid back and chill

does never check attendance and just trusts his students

usually talks most of the time and doesn’t ask too many questions

is super happy when students contribute though

but he isn’t one to force them

“I know your day has probably been really long, so it’s okay. I’m not taking this personal.”

his class is not based on theory but more on experiences he made

shares funny stories, mistakes he made and what he learnt from them

always gives the smallest and easiest homework ever

“please just share your experiences with these types of situations in our forum”

and he does not want to grade students based on an exam

“I have a better idea. In order to understand a certain topic, I want you to write a portfolio about it. It should be detailed but I won’t give you a number of words. Do what feels right and surprise me! Be creative, nothing will be worth a failing grade as long as you put in some effort.”

does split classrooms

one half is in the main room with him, the others are in breakout rooms, working on a certain topic

super chill and just not as hard as some other classes

but students definitely learn from him!

Kevin:

oh boy, students either gonna hate or love him

he is very kind and nice but he is STRICT

take his class serious and work or you will fail

although he has very high expectations, he will make sure students will be prepared for all the essays, assignments and presentations he throws at at them

no half-assed instructions, you will get the full program (as every student should!)

you have to write an argumentative essay but have no idea how to do that?

Professor Moon (students are allowed to call him Kevin) will explain an argumentativ essay in detail, will show examples and will tell you exactly what to put in it

having trouble finding sources?

Kevin will help you, just let him know!

Also a very empathetic teacher

something happened and you can’t attend class? Absolutely no problem

whenever something serious happens (for us it was a shooting), Kevin will cancel class and spare his students cause their well-being is more important

he doesn’t throw out A’s and B’s easily but when you do get such a grade in one of his classes... dude, you did a really good job

so as I said, he is either your fav or least fav professor... choose your side!

Chanhee:

he is a bitch (not really, but he gives the impression)

at first, he is that nice, bubbly professor

super friendly and kind

and his classes are absolutely okay! no biggie

or so they THOUGHT

his exams and progress tests or whatever ARE HELL

he makes it seem as everything is so easy and not overwhelming at all

BUT nothing is easy and everything is overwhelming

50 pages for a damn progress test two weeks into the semester!

the grading is so strict, you need at least 65% to pass! (maybe I am a baby but 65% is a lot for a passing grade hahaha)

but he confuses students

he is so kind and soft spoken

constantly smiling and in a good mood

but the exams????

are you sure you were the one creating them Mr Choi?

and yes, he is one of those professors that wants to be addressed by his last name (nothing wrong with that)

as I said, he confuses students

they don’t know what to think of him

at the end of the day he isn’t a bad guy

just not the type of professor the students would want in every single class for the rest of their lives

Changmin:

changmin is not your ordinary professor

because he is a big fan of team-teaching

so all his classes are taught by him and his dear colleague Haknyeon!

YAAAAY

I love this duo already

he is the part of the duo that is EXTREMELY motivated

he is is so hyper and so ready for teaching

his classes are always fun but also slightly overwhelming?

juts imagine having too much caffeine in your body

that is changmin being able to teach something he loves

that’s just the passion jumping out of him

he is constantly talking and laughing and throwing jokes left and right

he is having a good time!

super understanding and empathetic

and although everything seems fun and games

you will definitely learn from him!

he has this natural and authentic way of teaching in his body

it comes... naturally and it all makes sense somehow

although the class is packed with inside jokes and changmin teasing haknyeon

haknyeon doesn’t even have time nor the chance to speak

this is changmin’s time to shine!

they love and hate each other

but the students definitely love this iconic duo

Haknyeon:

as I mentioned; haknyeon and changmin are a team

it wasn’t really something haknyeon wanted but... how could you possibly say no to baby changmin? 🥺

so yes, changmin’s cute face got him into this situation

he doesn’t even have to prepare anything for class - his lovely colleague does the talking anyways

he usually lays back and relax

he frowns into the cam cause he tries to intimidate students

but they know he is a soft guy anyways

while changmin is talking, he is chatting to students in the chat

as I mentioned earlier, not everyone wants to unmute themselves and therefore posts in the chat

so he is having chats with students, often not even related to the topic

“Please excuse me, I will be absent for a few minutes - mommy duties” -student

“Don’t worry Miss! I know exactly what you mean... children.” -haknyeon

whenever he tries to get a word in, he has to talk VERY LOUDLY

he literally has to talk over changmin

but changmin doesn’t mind, he just smiles, nods and listens

changmin is super proud whenever haknyeon speaks

and haknyeon thinks that’s very sweet

but that thought passes as soon as changmin makes a joke about him

at the end of the day, they love each other at least to a certain extent and students adore them

Sunwoo:

he is not an ordinary professor either

class time? virtual meetings?

nope, not with sunwoo

again, in the classes the boyz teach, attendance is mandatory 

mandatory? sunwoo has never heard of her

he doesn’t require students to attend meetings and homework is also something he does not expect from them

he uploads powerpoint-presentations with videos and audio of him explaining everything in the presentation

but the boy is clumsy

and he is not good with anything technical

so him dropping his glass and spilling his water all over his lap?

well, students will see this in the video

“... and it’s important to- YAAAAH OH NO....”

*awkward silence*

“I spilled my water... if you haven’t seen.”

*more awkward silence*

“Give me a minute”

*the video continues and sunwoo is nowhere in sight*

after ten minutes of an empty chair, sunwoo returns and continues as if nothing has happened

sometimes his kids walk in and dab in the camera without him noticing

“and then - Hey! I am at WORK.”

he loves it though

and he posts these “fail” videos on purpose

“I want to show you, that it is okay to not be perfect and to not be in control of everything! Stuff like that happens, especially with us being in home-office! And don’t worry, if your mom walks in or whatever, in my classroom no one gets judged! This is life and now that we have to do everything from home, the unexpected is unavoidable!”

Another students’ favorite

Eric:

I would love to imagine him as this savage prof I have in mind... but no <3

he is a sweet guy

also super obsessed with the class he is teaching

he is LIVING for it

usually experiences technical problems right before class starts

“oopsie daisy, sorry guys... might take a few minutes *giggles*”

and no, it’s not a creepy giggle but a really cute one, I swear!

constantly has a pen in his hand and clicks it absentmindedly while teaching

students constantly hear the clicking sound... or when the pen falls to the ground.... which happens every five minutes

he constantly forgets to mute himself whenever he wants students to work by themselves and all they hear is him chugging down his water or whatever drink he has prepared

also sends out super sweet emails

but due to him being a young dude, he wants students to call him by his last name

he also calls students by their last name but he does use smileys to lighten the professional mood that comes with honorifics

overall a very motivated but extremely kind-hearted dude

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

______________

He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

[jlalafics]

Hey can you do an everlark fake dating please🥺🥺

Anon, I’m sure you were looking for something a little more romantic than what I came up with. There is romance, but there’s some other stuff too.

Thank you for inspiring this four-parter. I hope you enjoy!

_____

Summary: Peeta needed a date for his brother’s wedding. His co-worker Katniss was more than willing to play along. Sometimes, simple favors can turn into so much more. A fake dating story done in four parts. Rated E. Definitely NSFW.

A Simple Favor

The Invite

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Peeta gawked at the frilly invitation in his grasp, then at the attached list of activities.

Three days.

Three fucking days of wedding activities to torture him.

“Can we tone down the cursing?” Katniss, his co-worker, sat down at her desk adjacent to his. “This is a place of business.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you had to go to this.”

Peeta swiveled his chair, tossing the invitation onto Katniss’ desk. It landed smoothly atop her keyboard and she reached to read the perfect calligraphy print announcing the upcoming nuptials of Rye Mellark to Delly Cartwright.

She turned back to Peeta. “Yeah…so?”

“Look who’s the Maid of Honor.”

Katniss looked to the right part of the invitation which listed the wedding party.

Her grey eyes suddenly shot up at him. “Oh, holy fuck! Is that her?”

“Yeah. It’s hard to look at her name and not still see her sucking off my best friend.”

Katniss snorted. “Yeah—that’s not an image even I would likely forget.” She examined the invitation again. “Gawd, even her name is pretty. Madge Undersee.”

“Don’t remind me,” Peeta growled, yanking the invitation from her grasp. “Who plans three days of pre-wedding activities?”

“Your brother and his affianced, apparently.” Katniss gave him a sympathetic smile. “You think she’ll bring him?”

“According to my brother, they’re officially together now.”

Peeta never used to be this bitter.

However, two years ago, that irrevocably changed when he discovered his then-fiancée on her knees and giving his best friend a blowie—on his bed. Madge had wept, of course, telling him that it had just happened.

And Gale…he had begged for Peeta to understand that it wasn’t just sex…that he felt something more for Madge.

How the hell was he supposed to understand that?

Peeta had packed his things and immediately left the apartment that he and his best friend had been living in—let the fucker deal with the astronomical Bay Area rent on his own.

He then accepted a job at Panem Projects, a Brooklyn based start-up created by tech mogul Haymitch Abernathy. The uber-genius had invented an app that allowed you to search for specific non-profits and charities that one may be interested in contributing to.

On Peeta’s first day, he met Katniss Everdeen, who was part of the QA department he was in. She was a supervisor while he was just one of the lowly engineers.

They had been sitting across from one another ever since.

“That sucks.” Katniss sat back, crossing her legs, as she watched him carefully. “Did you want to get wasted after work?”

++++++

It was at their fifth round of shots that the idea came about.

“I can’t go to this.” Peeta held the invitation, now beer-stained and being used as a coaster for their peanut bowl. “It’s basically a three-day Peeta Mellark roast!”

“Yeah, and a wedding,” Katniss replied. She leaned forward, her cheeks warmed from booze. “You know what you need? A date to this God-awful event. Not just any date, a hot date.”

“Here’s the problem, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“It doesn’t have to be a real date,” she reasoned. “Find a great-looking chick who’d be willing to spend three days looking like she worships your cock. Isn’t this what those dating apps are for?”

“I don’t want a stranger around my family!” He reached for the beer bottle in front of him—was this even his? “That’s how those Netflix crime specials come about.”

Katniss chuckled. “Okay. Understandable.” She met his glazed stare. “I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll go with you,” Katniss declared. “I’ll be your hot date.”

Peeta took a long swig. “Uh…no offense Katniss…you’re definitely pretty…but hot?”

“I have been known to dress up once in a while.”

He looked at his friend; her dark hair was in its usual braid and she wore a pair of fitted jeans along with a zip-up with the Panem Projects logo on it—some sort of fiery bird. On her feet were a pair of Converses that had seen better days.

“You’re really know how to make a girl feel desired,” Katniss told him. “I can’t think of any possible reason why Madge would dump you.”

“Hey now! That’s hitting below the belt!”

“Well, you don’t think I can be hot!” she retorted. “Give me your phone!”

Peeta, in fear of his life, pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to the woman.

Katniss picked up the invitation with her free hand and started to type with the other.

“Katniss…Motherfucking…Everdeen…” She handed the phone back to him. “I’ve RSVP’d for you and added myself as your plus one.”

He looked at the browser window and then back at a smirking Katniss.

“You actually wrote ‘Katniss Motherfucking Everdeen’ as my date’s name.” Peeta had to smile. “My mother is going to love that.”

“She’s going to love me,” Katniss assured him. “She and everyone else at this wedding is going to forget who the hell Madge Undersee is after I’m done with them.”

Peeta had to ask. “Why are you doing this?”

“I know how it feels to be taken by surprise.” She was suddenly staring very hard at the dirty bar table they sat at. “Plus, you’re my friend and we take care of each of other.” Her eyes met his, her own looking like she was on the verge of breaking. “Right?”

Peeta reached over and squeezed her hand. “Right.”

++++++

“Okay, so I have prepared a portfolio of myself.” Katniss presented him with a closed folder. “Childhood photos…likes and dislikes…just some general information that a boyfriend should know.”

“34C?” Peeta eyed her doubtfully, briefly flitting to her white button down. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You bought me a lovely dark green lingerie set for our last anniversary.” Katniss pulled out a piece of paper. “Here is a little questionnaire that I’ve made for you, just for me to know you a little better.”

Peeta skimmed over the questions. Most of them were pretty general; where he was born, his parents’ and his brother’s name as well as their ages, his favorite foods…then—

“Why do you need to know if I’m circumcised?”

“If we have supposedly been together for about six months, shouldn’t we be having sex by now?” she questioned.

“True.” Peeta looked around the room. “Is it okay that we’re using a meeting room for this?”

Katniss shrugged. “The guys in IT use this room to play Pokémon every Friday.”

“Also, when are you going to do something about…” He waved his hand out at today’s outfit: a pair of black slacks, a white button down, and brown loafers. “…that.”

“Don’t you worry your perfect little blond self.” Katniss playfully ruffled his hair. “I didn’t realize that you were so fixated on looks.”

“You were the one who suggested ‘hot’,” he pointed out. “However, my parents, who are generally good people, can sometimes be judgmental. So besides being very smart and extremely accomplished—we’re going to have to show them how great you are on the outside.”

“Peeta, do my looks matter to you?” she suddenly asked. “I mean, do you think that I’m pretty?”

Katniss wasn’t what people would call conventionally beautiful.

Her hair was a single shade of black which could be a bit-frizzy on humid days, and her complexion was sun-kissed with a sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks. However, Peeta saw deep grey eyes that sparkled when she was particularly excited about something (pushing a new feature on their app, for example) and full rose-colored lips that needed no lipstick.

And when she smiled, everything about her just lit up.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said truthfully. “I do worry that the people at this wedding won’t see you the way I see you.”

“Then that’s their fucking problem, isn’t it?” Katniss smiled gently. “We just have to make this look real. I think we can do this.” She pushed a pen towards him. “Now, fill your questionnaire out, okay?”

“Alright.” He reached for the pen and his eyes went to her. “Katniss?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

++++++

Two Weeks Later…

“Sister—Primrose…24…a nurse in Seattle…Mom…Kate…former teacher…Dad…Marcus…former General in the Army….”

As he waited for Katniss’ Uber to arrive, Peeta went through the flashcards that he and Katniss had created in order to get through the three days leading up to his brother’s wedding.

They had everything from their first date (a Harry Potter trivia night at a bar close to their office) to any distinguishable body marks (him—a scar on his knee from falling off his bike at 12 and her—surprisingly, a scar just above her left butt cheek from a tattoo removal procedure, though she wouldn’t tell him what the tattoo was).

“Peeta?”

He had been so distracted that he didn’t even hear the car pull up.

“Sorry.” He tucked the cards in his back pocket and lifted his eyes to greet her. “Hey…holy shit.”

This was not Katniss Everdeen.

Katniss Everdeen didn’t wear her dark hair down in smooth waves that framed a perfect heart-shaped face. She didn’t wear sleeveless black jumpsuits that revealed rich olive skin and plush breasts (she was definitely a 34C).

“You like?”

She did a little twirl for him, graceful despite the stilettos she wore.

And, Katniss definitely didn’t have an ass that made his mouth water.

The unbidden thought of biting into one of those full globes caused his cock to twitch in his now too tight jeans.

“I like.” Peeta gave her a smile. “Maybe a little too much.”

She looked triumphant. “Give you a boner?”

“Fuck yeah,” he replied, a tad breathless.

“Then I’ve done my job.” Katniss wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hello boyfriend.”

Her mouth covered his own and his arms encircled her waist, pulling her tightly against his body. She teased, nipping at his bottom lip, her tongue skimming his lips before pulling away. Something surged inside him and his tongue invaded her mouth, sweeping in to taste sweetness.

Katniss growled against him, her center pressing into his now definitely hard cock.

Reluctantly—because they had to either breathe or die during the world’s hottest kiss—they pulled apart.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, gasping for breath.

“Because we’re supposed to be in love.” Her chest heaved, her eyes just cooling down from their kiss. “And couples in love kiss like that.”

“I know no couples who kiss like that,” he told her, a smile unexpectedly forming on his lips. “But feel free to kiss me like that whenever you see fit.”

++++++

During their five-hour flight, they went over the wedding itinerary.

“I’ve had a stylist pull looks for us for all the fancier events,” Katniss explained. “Don’t worry, nothing looks like we’re trying too hard. We’ll be more complimentary to one another.”

“What would trying too hard look like?” Peeta asked curiously.

“Well, if your tie matched my dress for example.”

A flight attendant stopped in front of their seats. “What can I get you both?”

Katniss smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He will have…” Her fingers brushed against his ear lobe and he couldn’t help but shiver in pleasure. “…a cup of chamomile tea. I will have a coffee—”

“With milk and two sugars,” he breathed out, trying to smile up at the attendant.

“Thanks baby,” Katniss cooed at him, her hand brushing through his hair affectionately.

The woman quickly fixed their drinks, handing their cups to them one by one.

“Can I just say that you too are extremely adorable?” the flight attendant remarked.

Katniss put a hand to her chest.

“Thank you!” She looked to Peeta; her expression full of affection. “He’s just so easy to love.”

Peeta smiled tightly. “This is my dream girl…” He patted Katniss’ hand. “…right here.”

The flight attendant practically squealed before going to the next seats.

“You really could be a little bit more convincing,” Katniss remarked. “Maybe act like my touch doesn’t repulse you.”

“You don’t!” He shifted towards her. “In fact, it’s really the opposite.”

Katniss rested back against her seat. “Really?” She crossed her arms. “Convince me.”

Peeta unbuckled his seatbelt. Pressing the release button of the armrest, he pushed it up so there was no divider between them.

Katniss waited, obviously interested in what he was up to. He realized that their tray tables covered anything below the waist and his mouth widened in a grin.

“Tell me.” His hand went to her thigh. “What exactly are you wearing under this?” The fabric beneath his palm was smooth and he could feel a full firm thigh. He continued upwards towards the cleft between her thighs. “Are you even wearing underwear?”

Katniss’ arms fell to her side and she swallowed thickly. “I am.”

“And, if my hand found its way between your thighs—” His hand stopped just about an inch from her center and she let out a labored breath. “—if my fingers brushed against this practically non-existent cloth, would I find you wet?”

“Maybe,” she whispered.

Peeta leaned forward, his mouth going to her ear.

“Would you let me put my fingers to your clit? Let me rub you until you came all over this seat?” His pressed his mouth to the spot behind her ear and she shivered. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d happily fill this cabin with the smell of sex if I fingered you into completion—”

“Stop—” Katniss gasped out, her hand covering the hand on her thigh. “I’m convinced.”

“Good.”

Peeta moved his hand away—but not before quickly brushing the tips of his fingers at her center. The feeling of heat had him hard immediately.

“You’re far from repulsive, Katniss.” He met her heated stare. “I’ve always thought that.”

Katniss snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Peeta took her hand, placing it to where his erection demanded to be freed.

“Believe me,” he demanded, and her fingers moved against the rough fabric of his jeans. “This is because of you. Yeah, it’s extremely hot to see you in this get-up, but what makes me hard is that look in your eyes.”

Katniss licked her lips. “What look?”

“That fire,” he told her, his thumb caressing the top of her hand. “That fire in those grey eyes will always get me, if you’re in this black jumpsuit—” Her fingers enclosed along his cock, gripping him firmly. “—or if you’re wearing that ugly zip-up sweater that HR gave you for your work anniversary.”

“Excuse me?” They both jumped at the voice and looked to see the flight attendant. “We’ve just been notified that we’ll be landing a little sooner than we announced. So, if you could finish your drinks in the next few minutes—”

“Of course,” Katniss said quickly, her free hand reaching for her cup. “We’ll be done soon.”

The woman gave them a smile and moved on to the next row.

Katniss sat back, the hand on him quickly disappearing.

“You’re going to be more problematic than I thought,” she said, her eyes dark.

“Trust me.” Peeta let out a breath. “The feeling is mutual.”

++++++

“I never asked, but you and Rye are pretty close, right?”

Peeta nodded, pushing the cart with their luggage down the corridor as they left baggage claim.

“We’re probably just as close as you and Prim are,” he told her. “And Delly is great. Horrendous taste in friends, but she’s really a sweet person.”

“Do you suspect that Rye will see through all of this?” Katniss questioned.

Peeta shook his head. “We’ve done our research.” He stopped, reaching for her hand. “I also always thought that you and I had great chemistry…in the workplace. I think it transfers easily into whatever we’re trying to pull off.”

Katniss smiled. “I feel the exact same way.”

“Peeta!”

They turned to see a couple, running toward them excitedly.

Rye rushed over, pulling him into a tight hug and practically lifting him off the ground. His brother was a broad fellow; muscular from years of playing football throughout high school and college. However, Rye was as gentle as they came when it came to his younger brother and the lovely woman that he would soon be marrying.

“I’ve missed you, little brother!” Rye said affectionately. “Welcome home!”

They drew apart, just as Delly pulled away from hugging Katniss.

He reached over to quickly kiss Delly on the cheek. “Hello soon-to-be big sister.”

“Hello, my sweet little brother,” Delly greeted in return.

“Rye, Delly—” Katniss beamed at him and his heart leapt at the affectionate gesture. Taking her hand, he presented her proudly to the couple. “—this lovely woman is my girlfriend, Katniss Everdeen.”

Delly grinned at his expression. “I can already tell that she’s going to be a perfect addition to our family.”

Rye took Katniss’ hand, leaning and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“I welcome anyone who makes my baby brother smile this brightly,” he told her. “Welcome to San Francisco. Have you ever been here?”

Katniss shook her head. “This is my first time. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Delly glowed in excitement. “I can’t wait for all the festivities—” She whipped around to her fiancé. “—and for us to be married, of course!” They all chuckled at her exuberance.

Rye led them out into where the town cars were stationed; a man in a black suit immediately took the cart and headed to the trunk of the black Sedan in front of them.

“A driver?” Peeta asked.

“Mom and Dad insisted,” Rye responded with a grimace. “You know them.”

They all slid into the wide back seats, Rye closing the door behind him.

Delly immediately pounced. “So, how did you two meet?”

“We’ve been working together for the last two years at Panem Projects,” Katniss told her easily. “I’ve always liked Peeta and we became friends right away.”

“However, a little over six months ago, I finally got the balls to ask her out on an actual date,” Peeta finished for her. His hand found hers, their fingers entwining easily, and he met Katniss’ eyes. “And, wonderful woman that she was, she accepted. We’ve been together ever since.”

“I love it,” Delly said sincerely. “And you look so beautiful together. The children are going to be gorgeous.”

Rye smiled affectionately at his fiancée. “Don’t scare Katniss off, love.”

“I don’t know,” Katniss said, eyeing Peeta playfully. Her free hand reached to push his hair away from his face. “I’ve always loved blue-eyed children.”

“And, the children would look particularly lovely if they had Katniss’ hair,” he added, his hand reaching to the tuck a tendril of her hair behind her ear.

How did he never notice what was in front of him?

“Oh man,” Rye said, looking between them. He smirked at his brother. “You are so fucked.”

++++++

“It’s so wonderful to have you here, Katniss,” his mother said. “We’ve never had Peeta bring a girl home. You know, except for Mad—" She waved her hand, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you are most welcome.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Mellark,” Katniss replied graciously.

“Call me Janice, my dear.”

Behind her, Peeta followed along with his father carrying their bags up the stairs.

“She seems like a lovely girl,” his father told him.

“I care for her a great deal,” Peeta said as he watched his mother and Katniss chat easily. “I don’t know how I even got her.”

“Trust me, son.” He gave Peeta an affectionate smile. “I think she feels the same way. I can tell just by the way she keeps looking over for you—like she can’t believe that you’re together.”

They stopped at the door to his childhood room.

“Well, we put some extra towels in your bedroom,” his mother told them. “And, Mags—” Peeta had introduced Katniss to the head of the household when they first entered his childhood home. “—made sure that fresh sheets have been put on the bed and she’s aired out the room as well.”

“Okay, but where will Katniss be staying?” he asked.

“We’re not so old to not know that you aren’t sleeping together,” his mother said. “So, we just set up your room for the both of you.”

“That’s perfect,” Katniss told his parents. She looked to him boldly. “Show me your room. I’m dying to see those little league trophies of yours.”

“We know that you must be exhausted,” his father told them. “So, we’ll just have dinner sent up and we can rendezvous for brunch tomorrow in the main dining room.”

“Thank you, Marshall,” Katniss said as Peeta opened the door for them. “Thank you as well, Janice.”

“Of course, dear.” His mother gave them a jaunty wink. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Entering the room, Peeta placed their bags at the end of his bed.

“What kind of life did you leave when you came to work at Panem Projects?” Katniss stared up at the high ceiling of the room, her eyes traveling to the four-post bed, and then to the floor-to-ceiling windows. She went to one immediately. “Oh my God! You can see everything from up here!”

“A house on Twin Peaks affords that kind of view. However, it’s not so great on foggy days,” he told her, watching as she examined every bit of his room from the bathroom (“A clawfoot tub!”) to the walk-in closet (This is practically the size of my studio!).

Taking off her shoes, Katniss leapt onto his bed. “Holy shit! This is heavenly!”

Peeta went to her, toeing off his own shoes before joining her.

They laid side by side, hands immediately reaching for one another.

He turned to her. “Did I ever say thank you for being here?”

“It’s all worth it to stay in this sweet room,” Katniss replied, her grey eyes dancing.

“So, you’re just here for the room?”

She smirked. “Well, I did also find out that you have a huge cock—so that’s a bonus.”

“Katniss!” Her laughter filled the room and his stomach tumbled in pleasure hearing it. He suddenly flipped, his chest over hers and the giggles fell from her lips. Peeta stared down at her, her grey eyes suddenly darkening as he examined her. “You’re something special.”

“I’m nothing.” Her chest rose and Katniss let out a shaky breath. “I just want to be here for you.”

“I want to kiss you,” he suddenly said, his hand reaching to trace her jawline. “Would you allow it?”

“Are you doing it because you want to thank me?” she asked tightly. “Or because you want to explore what is obviously between us?”

“Both, I think.” Peeta had never felt this exhilarated or this flustered by someone. Just a touch from Katniss and he was in a whirlwind, happy to be caught in it. “I just think you deserve someone less broken than I am.”

“We’re both broken.” Her hand reached for the nape of his neck, drawing him down until their lips were brushing. “I don’t know if we can fix that, but we can help each other mend.” She smiled against him. “Let’s see where this weekend takes us, and we can go from there. For now, I’m allowing you to kiss me. So, make it a good one.”

Peeta dipped his mouth into hers, sampling just a bit, and it was like he could breathe again. Immediately, his lips sought hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and swirling against her own. Katniss moaned and his heart rose in triumph as she pressed herself to him eagerly.

His hand reached to cradle her head, his fingers entwining in soft waves and he plunged into her mouth once more, exploring her in their kiss.

Katniss ripped her mouth off his, a string of saliva still connecting them.

“Fuck!” Her eyes were frenzied. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

He grinned. “I’m just exploring.”

Despite his attempt to remain cool, his own heart raced; the feel of her mouth…and her tongue undoing him.

This wasn’t the plan, but it felt right.

“This whole game we’re playing,” she said, her eyes full of hunger. “I’m going to crash and burn, aren’t I?”

“If you burn—” Peeta kissed her tenderly. “—then I burn with you.”

END OF PART ONE