#it’s not the finished product that counts

[chrrybbmb]

EQUILIBRIUM

STARRING ... SPIDEY!J. JUNGKOOK X READER

WORD COUNT ... 7.5K

SUMMARY ... how long can you pretend not to notice you're falling headfirst?

NOTES/WARNINGS ... slow burn. mutual pining. they’re both falling so hard they need a helmet AKSJASK. reader’s acceptance era. they wanna kiss each other so bad but are too stupid to realise it someone please bonk them on the head. implied spidey!jk fight. she’s a lil bit short but that’s okay things are moving forward!!!

playlist : give you the world (steve lacy). i think (tyler the creator). me gustas tu (manu chao). falling for ya (grace phipps). the feels (twice). out of my league (fitz and the tantrums). more than a woman (the beegees). be my baby (the ronettes). rather be (clean bandit). cupid (fifty fifty).

taglist. prev. next.

he’s been staring at the same sentence in his notes for the past five minutes.

it’s not even a hard one. something about limiting reagents and product yield—stuff he could usually recite without blinking, but you’re sitting right there.

curled into the far side of the library booth, legs tucked under you, pen twirling between your fingers like you’ve likely done a hundred times before. there’s a smudge of blue ink on your thumb and a crumpled piece of gum wrapper on the table between you, and jungkook can’t seem to make his brain work long enough to finish a full thought.

you hum under your breath as you copy down the last equation he walked you through. nod a little to yourself when it clicks.

jungkook has never hated a reaction more.

not because he minds teaching. not because he minds being here. but because he wants to kiss you. he’s been thinking about it more than he should. enough that it’s starting to interfere with things, like memory and rational thought and knowing when to look away.

your lips purse as you underline something. your brow furrows. he looks back at his notes and pretends he didn’t notice.

“you okay?” you say after a moment.

your voice is soft. casual, like you haven’t just dragged him out of a thought spiral that involved your lip gloss and his complete and utter lack of self-control.

he glances up too fast, eyes wide. “what?”

you blink at him. “you’ve been on the same line for ages. just wondered if you were, i don’t know... buffering.”

a beat, then you grin.

jungkook exhales through his nose and drops his pen. presses the heel of his palm to his temple like that’ll help short-circuit whatever his brain is doing. “i’m fine,” he mutters.

“uh-huh,” you say, clearly not buying it. you nudge the gum wrapper closer to him with the back of your knuckle. “you sure it’s not the limiting reagent that’s got you in a chokehold?”

“positive,” he says. “limiting reagents are easy.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and yet?”

he glares at the sentence in his notebook like it’s personally wronged him, and you laugh under your breath, the sound warm, bright in a way the library doesn’t deserve.

he hates that it makes his stomach flip.

“okay, professor,” you tease. “if you’re done glitching, i have questions.”

he nods slowly, swallowing back everything else he wants to say. “hit me.”

you scoot a little closer, shifting your notebook between you, your leg bumping his under the table. not on purpose, probably, but jungkook flinches anyway. you don’t seem to notice. you’re already flipping back a page and chewing on your bottom lip, scanning your notes.

“this one,” you say, pointing to a messy line halfway down the margin. “the molar ratio part? i think i missed something.”

he leans in before he can stop himself. close enough to see the faint shimmer of your lip balm, the way the library’s overhead lights reflect in your eyes. bad idea. he clears his throat, forcing his eyes back down. “you just have to compare the coefficients from the balanced equation. it’s about how many moles of reactant are required to fully react with the other.”

“right,” you nod, writing as he speaks. “so it’s about proportion?”

“exactly.”

you hum again, more to yourself this time, scribbling in the margin. your handwriting is uneven and fast and a little chaotic, but it makes something in his chest ache anyway.

you’re too close.

he shifts a little, subtly. just enough to give himself space to breathe. because he doesn’t want you to see the way it’s affecting him the way everything you do lately seems to be affecting him. it’s getting bad.

the way you lean into him when you’re focused. the way you smile when you finally understand something. the way you call him ‘professor’ sometimes, like it’s a joke, but he still thinks about it later when he’s brushing his teeth.

you nudge his notebook with your pen. “you’re being quiet again.”

“just thinking.”

you glance at him sideways, a small smile tugging at your lips. “about chemistry?”

he lies. “yeah.”

you laugh. soft and a little disbelieving. “you don’t sound very convincing, you know.”

he shrugs, eyes still on your notes. “i’m not good at this whole… thing.”

“mm. i don’t know.” you twirl your pen again, the ink-stained tip catching a smudge across your palm. “you’ve managed to teach me more in two weeks than i’ve learned all semester. that’s gotta count for something.”

jungkook wants to say thank you. wants to make a dumb joke. wants to reach across the table and take your hand just to see if you’d let him. instead, he stares at the gum wrapper between you. you don’t seem to notice the shift.

“you’re good at it,” you add, quieter this time. “the tutoring thing. i didn’t expect that.”

he raises an eyebrow. “why not?”

you glance at him like it should be obvious. “you don’t really talk. during class, i mean. you kind of just show up, take notes, and disappear.”

he shrugs again. “maybe you just weren’t paying attention.”

your smile falters a little, flickering into something softer. more real. “maybe,” you admit. “but i do now.”

and there’s something in the way you say it that makes his heartbeat stutter and his mouth dry.

you shift again, settling back into your seat. “anyway. i think i get it now.”

he nods, pretending like what you said doesn’t matter to him as much as it does. “good.”

“do i get a gold star?”

he finally smiles, small but genuine. “i’ll bring stickers next time.”

you grin. “i’m holding you to that.”

he’s not sure if you mean it. but he will.

you stretch your arms above your head, spine arching just slightly, a soft groan escaping your throat. jungkook looks away so fast he almost gives himself whiplash.

“we’ve been at this for too long,” you say, voice light, dragging your hands through your hair before letting them fall into your lap. “my brain’s starting to leak out of my ears.”

he huffs a laugh, flipping your notebook closed. “sure. break time.”

“thank god,” you sigh, slumping dramatically against the back of the booth. “i was two problems away from crying.”

“you’ve cried over chemistry before?”

“once,” you say, lifting your fingers to make a tiny gap between your thumb and forefinger. “just a little. like a respectable amount.”

he grins. “respectable tears?”

“very academic,” you nod solemnly. “phd-level sobbing.”

you’re joking, but your smile is tired in a way that makes his chest tug. he wonders how much sleep you’ve been getting. how often you let yourself take breaks when he’s not the one insisting. he doesn’t ask.

instead, he pushes the textbooks aside. “what do you usually do during breaks?” he asks, half teasing, half genuinely curious.

you blink at him, clearly not expecting him to ask. “usually?” you say. “scroll. draw. steal other people’s snacks. the essentials.”

jungkook hums, amused. “should i be worried?”

“only if you brought anything worth stealing.”

he reaches into his bag, pulls out a granola bar, and slides it across the table.

you gasp. “an offering?”

“a peace treaty,” he says. “in case you cry again.”

you laugh, peeling back the wrapper, and something in his chest unwinds. “this’ll buy you fifteen more minutes of tutoring,” you say through a mouthful of granola. “maybe twenty if you pretend i’m doing better than i am.”

“you’re doing fine,” he says before he can stop himself.

you glance up at him. blink once. then you smile, and it’s not playful—not teasing or smug or exaggerated. it’s quiet. sincere. “thanks,” you say softly. “i’ve been trying.”

jungkook swallows. nods. looks down at his hands just so he doesn’t have to look at you.

you chew slowly, shoulders relaxing against the booth.

“i kind of like studying with you,” you say after a minute, not even realizing what you’re doing to him.

his throat is suddenly too dry. “yeah?”

you nod. “you’re patient. and you explain things better than my professors do. and you always bring snacks.”

“only brought one.”

“you’ve brought others before.”

he snorts under his breath. “you keep track?”

you shrug. “when you’ve got as many things on your mind as i do, it’s nice when something’s consistent.”

and god, he wants to say something. to tell you he’d bring you granola bars every day for the rest of the semester. to ask if he’s allowed to be one of the things you count on. but instead, he picks at the edge of his textbook and says, “i’ll bring two next time.”

you grin. “spoiling me.”

he shrugs, pretending it’s casual. “you deserve it.”

you look at him for a second—really look at him, eyes soft, head tilted just slightly, trying to figure him out. then, just as quickly, the moment shifts. you smile again, all light and teasing. “if you keep saying stuff like that, i’m gonna start thinking you like me.”

you say it like a joke, like it’s nothing. like it’s funny.

and maybe it is to you. maybe you’re just playing around. maybe you don’t see the way his hands curl into fists in his lap, or how he forgets how to breathe for half a second.

he laughs. too late, too forced.

“yeah, well,” he says, eyes fixed on a scratch in the table. “can’t have that.”

you don’t respond right away. you just pick at the corner of your granola bar wrapper, folding it neatly in half.

“mm,” you say finally, like you’ve filed that away somewhere. “would ruin the academic integrity of this tutoring relationship.”

he nods. “exactly.”

another beat passes. you lean your cheek against your hand, watching him with something unreadable in your expression. “guess i’ll just have to keep wondering, then.”

and before he can figure out what that means, or if you meant anything at all, you’re reaching for your notes again.

“alright, professor,” you say lightly. “break’s over. teach me something.”

jungkook picks up his pen with shaking fingers. he doesn’t say a word.

you’re already flipped to a fresh page, pen tapping against the paper as you glance at him, waiting. expecting. jungkook clears his throat and tries to focus. tries to remember what you were working on before you smiled at him in a way that made it hard to breathe.

"okay," he says eventually, voice quieter than usual. “uh. equilibrium constants.”

you nod, jotting down the title at the top of the page.

his hands are still shaking. he doesn’t think you notice. you lean in a little, not quite touching, but close enough to make his skin prickle. "so," you murmur, pen at the ready, "what’s the deal with k?”

and god.

you’re doing it on purpose. or maybe you’re not. maybe this is just how you are—curious, warm, bright in a way that doesn’t burn but still somehow sets him on fire.

he exhales slowly through his nose.

"it’s a ratio," he starts, keeping his eyes on your notebook instead of your face. "products over reactants. a way to measure if a reaction favors the left or the right.”

you hum under your breath. “and what if it favors neither?”

he lets himself glance at you then, just briefly. “then it’s balanced,” he says.

you meet his gaze, smile tugging at your lips. “sounds ideal.”

jungkook looks away. he’s never wanted anything more than he wants to kiss you right now. he doesn’t let the thought linger. it’s dangerous—too loud, too close to the surface. he presses the tip of his pen to your notebook instead, draws a quick diagram, lets the movement steady his hands.

"see how the concentrations shift?" he says, voice even, like his pulse isn’t hammering in his throat.

you lean forward again, shoulder brushing his just barely.

"so when k is greater than one..." you murmur.

"it means the products are favored."

you nod, scribbling it down, brow furrowed in concentration.

and jungkook clings to that. your focus, your curiosity, the way you chew your lip when you're thinking hard. if he lets himself look at you for too long, he knows he won’t be able to look away.

and if he lets himself feel everything he’s feeling, really feel it, he might never stop.

he watches you write, lets the silence stretch just long enough to steady himself. then “okay,” he says softly. “your turn.”

you glance up, pen pausing mid-stroke.

“what does it mean when a reaction is at equilibrium?”

your brow furrows, eyes flicking between his face and the sketch of the reaction chart on your page. he waits.

you tap the end of your pen against the paper, thoughtful. “it means… the rate of the forward reaction equals the rate of the reverse?”

when he nods, you continue, voice more confident now. “that the concentrations stop changing. not because the reaction stops, but because everything’s happening at the same time, in both directions.”

he smiles, and it’s small, but it’s real. “exactly.”

you grin, wide and a little proud, and his heart goes stupid in his chest.

“see?” you say, nudging his elbow with yours. “i am learning.”

“you’re a model student,” he says, just to hear you laugh again.

you do. soft and sudden. the kind of sound that makes him feel weightless.

you go back to your notes, but jungkook doesn’t move right away. he keeps his eyes on the margin of your page, watching your pen move.

equilibrium.

forward and reverse, happening at once. equal effort. equal weight. it sounds simple in theory.

he wishes it were. he wishes he was brave enough to just be honest with you about how he feels, to say it plainly. without stumbling, without second-guessing, without hiding behind chemistry terms and granola bars and excuses that sound a lot like maybe next time.

he wants to tell you that he thinks about you more than he should. that every time you smile at him, it takes him a second too long to recover. but instead he points to the next problem in your textbook. “you wanna try this one on your own?”

you glance at it, then at him, then back at your notes.

“sure,” you say, and your voice is casual, but the corners of your mouth curve just enough to undo him all over again.

you start working through the equation, mumbling under your breath, pen tapping as you go, and jungkook watches. he doesn’t say what he wants to. he doesn’t risk it. not yet.

you furrow your brow at the middle of the problem, chewing on your pen cap while your eyes scan the numbers. “wait,” you mutter, pointing to the molar ratio. “isn’t it supposed to be three to two here?”

“yeah,” he says, quiet. “good catch.”

you grin, triumphant, scribbling something onto the page. he looks away again, smile threatening the edges of his mouth.

god. he’s so gone.

completely, utterly, irreversibly.

you don’t even know. you’re just here, sharing your notebook, offering up pieces of yourself so easily it’s like you don’t think twice. he wishes he could match you in that. be just as open, just as brave.

“what?” you ask suddenly, glancing over at him. “you’re staring.”

“no, i’m not,” he says, and it’s instant, reflexive.

you raise a brow. “you kinda were.”

he clears his throat. “i was just… surprised. you’re getting good at this.”

you smile, a little bashful. “guess i’ve got a decent tutor.”

jungkook looks at your face, the way you’re trying to hide how proud you are. he wants to reach out.

he doesn’t.

“you’re not so bad yourself,” he says instead, voice low.

your eyes linger on him a beat too long. and then you look down again, flipping to a new page.

his heart doesn’t slow down for the rest of the hour.

jungkook winces as jimin dabs at his cheek with a sting-soaked cotton pad.

"jesus," jimin mutters under his breath, voice tight with irritation. "you need to stop letting public transit rearrange your face."

“i’m fine,” jungkook grits out, though the words come slower than he means for them to. his head’s still spinning, just a little. he blinks hard, trying to clear it.

jimin pulls back, eyes narrowing. “uh-huh. and i’m the queen of england.” he swipes at a dried streak of blood along jungkook’s jaw, a little less gently this time.

jungkook flinches, shoulders curling in. “i don’t have a concussion.”

“right.” jimin scoffs, tossing the cotton pad into the trash. “because when a ten-ton hunk of steel smacks you into a goddamn billboard, the first thing you think is thank god my brain’s still in one piece.”

jungkook sighs, leaning back against the couch, one hand dragging down his face. he hates this part, the aftermath. when the adrenaline’s gone and everything hurts and the city’s quiet again and jimin’s looking at him like he’s one bad landing away from being a memory.

“you should’ve gone to the ER,” jimin mutters, disinfectant in one hand, gauze in the other.

“they ask too many questions.”

“they ask questions so you don’t die, genius.”

“you’re patching me up anyway,” jungkook mumbles, gesturing vaguely to the half-open first aid kit on the coffee table. jimin doesn’t answer right away. just presses the gauze to the cut on his temple a little more firmly than necessary.

jungkook hisses.

“you’re an idiot,” jimin says, quiet.

“i know.”

he does. he knows.

jungkook closes his eyes for a second, lets the pressure of jimin’s hand ground him. the sting, the scent of antiseptic, the soft buzz of a heater kicking on somewhere in the apartment.

he’d thought about going to you. when he was dragging himself out of the alley, ribs screaming, blood sticky down the side of his face, your apartment flashed across his mind. a quiet thought, tucked into the corner of the chaos.

she’d open the door.

she’d help.

she always does.

even in his addled state, he knew it was a bad idea. stupid. selfish even.

as much as he’d enjoyed it last time—being there, letting you fuss over him, hearing your voice up close, feeling your fingers skim his cheek like he was something fragile—it wasn’t something he could get used to.

not when you didn’t know who he was. not really.

“you zoning out on me?” jimin asks, tone clipped.

jungkook blinks his eyes open again. “no.”

jimin doesn’t buy it. he never does.

“you sure? ‘cause your pupils look two different sizes and you haven’t blinked in thirty seconds.”

jungkook exhales a dry laugh. “just thinking.”

“dangerous,” jimin mutters, tossing the bloodied gauze aside and grabbing clean bandages. “next time, don’t think. just duck.”

“tried.”

“try harder.”

he doesn’t mean to sound harsh. jimin never does, not really, but there’s a tremble underneath it. fear, maybe. and jungkook doesn’t have the heart to brush that off. not tonight. not after the way his own legs gave out two blocks from the fight, not after the taste of copper and pavement still lingers in his mouth.

so he just nods and lets jimin tape him back together again in silence.

jimin’s quiet for a while after that. he works the way he always does when he’s trying not to feel something. quick, precise, hands steady even when his breathing isn’t. jungkook watches the ceiling, eyes unfocused. the room spins a little when he turns his head, so he doesn’t.

“you’ve gotta slow down,” jimin says eventually, voice low.

jungkook hums. “can’t.”

jimin’s fingers still against the side of his face.

“why not?”

jungkook doesn’t answer right away. he could say it’s the city. the people who need help. the guilt that chews at his ribs when he thinks about what would happen if he just stopped.

but none of that is what comes out.

“she was there,” he says quietly.

jimin freezes. “when?”

“before the fight,” jungkook mumbles. “at her mural. painting.” he swallows. “she didn’t see me. i didn’t stay.”

jimin sighs, sits back on his heels, eyeing him carefully. “you shouldn’t keep doing this.”

jungkook blinks. “doing what?”

“using the mask as an excuse to orbit her,” jimin says flatly. “you’re not doing her any favors. and you’re definitely not doing you any favors either.”

jungkook looks away, jaw tight. “i’m not trying to mess with her,” he says. “i just… i don’t know. i miss her.”

“you see her,” jimin says. “you tutor her. you sit across from her in cafes and make a fool of yourself in front of her every week.”

“it’s not the same,” jungkook mutters.

“no,” jimin agrees. “because at least when you’re you, you’re not lying to her face.”

the silence that follows is heavier than anything else.

jimin doesn’t push. just leans back against the couch, pulls his knees up, and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh that sounds way too tired for how young they are. the room is quiet again, save for the low hum of traffic outside and the soft groan of jimin’s air conditioner in the background.

jimin exhales through his nose, slow and tired. he presses the last strip of tape to jungkook’s temple, then drops the empty wrapper onto the table with a quiet crinkle.

“you’re lucky you didn’t black out,” he says. “again.”

jungkook doesn’t respond. just leans back into the couch, arm slung over his eyes. he’s so tired. not just in his body. not just the bruises, or the cuts, or the ache in his shoulder that still hasn’t gone away from last week’s rooftop landing. it’s in his chest.

the constant push and pull of being two people. the version of him who makes you laugh across tables, and the one who swings past your apartment in the middle of the night just to see if your lights are on.

the one you know.

the one you don’t.

“you should tell her,” jimin says eventually. “before it gets worse.”

jungkook drops his arm, looks at him with tired eyes. “tell her what, hyung? hey, i’m your tutor and the idiot who bled on your furniture that one time. surprise?”

jimin just shrugs. “sounds about right.”

“she’ll hate me.”

“she might.” jimin doesn’t sugarcoat it. “but she also might not.”

jungkook swallows hard.

he’s thought about it. a hundred different ways. a thousand different outcomes. and in every one, you look at him differently after. sometimes with betrayal. sometimes with disbelief. sometimes you don’t look at him at all, and that’s the part that scares him most.

he scrubs a hand down his face and groans. “i can’t. not yet.”

jimin watches him for a beat, then nods.

“then don’t wait too long,” he says. “because if she finds out on her own, it’s gonna hurt worse.”

jungkook doesn’t say anything, because deep down, he knows jimin’s right. that’s what scares him second most.

you stare down at your phone, thumb hovering over the screen.

here early, grabbed a table near the back x

sent fifteen minutes ago.

you sigh and lock your phone, flipping it face down on the table.

the cafe is warm. quieter than usual, save for the low hum of an indie playlist and the hiss of the espresso machine behind the counter. your untouched drink sits beside your notebook, still steaming. you haven’t taken a sip.

you know jungkook’s probably caught in traffic. or maybe the bus was late. maybe something came up. maybe he’s just having one of those days. but your brain doesn’t care about reason. it cares that he was the one who asked to move the session earlier this week. said he couldn’t do the weekend.

so you cleared your schedule. shifted your plans. you told taehyung no, you told yourself it was fine, you told yourself you weren’t too excited when he sent the text.

and now here you are.

alone in a corner booth with your highlighters lined up in color order and your thoughts spiraling at full speed.

you try not to take it personally, and you fail. your mind jumps straight to that place you hate—what if he forgot? what if he bailed? what if he’s slowly realizing he doesn’t actually like being around you at all? you exhale, sharp and quiet.

then the bell above the door jingles, and jungkook stumbles in, breathless and disheveled, hoodie askew and cheeks flushed pink from the cold. his hair is a mess, and his backpack looks half-zipped, and there’s a coffee stain on the cuff of his sleeve.

he spots you instantly and his shoulders sag in relief. “hey…” he pants as he approaches, breath visible in the air behind him, “sorry. i’m so sorry.”

you blink, and despite every insecure thought you were stewing in two seconds ago, your chest loosens just a little.

“…you okay?” you ask, voice quieter than you mean for it to be.

he nods quickly, dropping his bag onto the seat across from you. “yeah. yeah. just—” he pulls his hood back, raking a hand through his hair, “—bit of a mess getting here. totally my fault. i should’ve texted.”

you shake your head, forcing a small smile. “you’re here now.”

he meets your eyes, sheepish.

“still,” he says, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, “thanks for waiting.”

you shrug, flipping open your notebook. “you owe me a sticker for it.”

he exhales a laugh. “i brought two sheets.”

you lean back in your seat, watching him dig through his bag, fingers fumbling for his notes or maybe a pen or maybe just something to distract from how flustered he is. he finally pulls out his notebook, slaps it onto the table, and exhales like he’s just run a marathon.

“you didn’t have to sprint here,” you murmur, reaching for your drink at last. “i would’ve waited.”

he smiles, boyish, still a little breathless.

“i did make you wait,” he says. “felt bad.”

you’re about to wave it off when you notice just the faintest smudge. barely there, high on the edge of his nostril, a smear of red that’s mostly faded but not invisible. your brows draw together.

“hey.”

he looks up. “hm?”

you reach into your pocket for a tissue and slide it across the table. “you’ve got—” you motion to your own nose, eyes narrowing. “what happened?”

he falters just for a second. his hand lifts instinctively, brushing at the spot with the back of his knuckle before glancing at the tissue and taking it.

“oh. must’ve been from earlier.”

you stare. “earlier?”

“yeah, it’s nothing,” he says quickly, too quickly. “i get nosebleeds sometimes. weather shift, i guess.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it. just dabs once, then folds the tissue and tucks it under his notebook like it never existed. you don’t believe him, but you don’t push, either. “…you sure?”

he nods. “promise.”

and it sounds certain enough that you don’t press, even as something unsettles deep in your stomach. instead, you flip open your own notes and reach for a pen.

“fine,” you say softly. “but if you pass out mid-equation, i’m not catching you.”

he huffs a laugh, and it sounds a little more real this time. “deal.”

you pretend to scan your notes, pen tapping idly, but your eyes drift. jungkook’s hunched forward, elbows on the table, scribbling something in the corner of his page. his hair’s a mess, long and black and tangled from either wind or movement or both, curling at the ends where it brushes his hoodie. there’s a little patch that won’t fall the right way, hanging stubbornly across his forehead.

and then there’s the glasses.

you haven’t seen him wear them before. they sit low on his nose, slipping a little every time he shifts, catching the light and reflecting it just enough to make you pause. you don’t mean to stare, but you do until he looks up and catches your gaze head-on.

“…do i have something else on my face?” he asks, cautious.

you blink. hard.

“what? no.” you shake your head, a little too fast. “no. i was just… thinking.”

his brow lifts slightly. “about what?”

you scramble for anything but you look really good like this and i can’t stop looking at you.

you flick your pen toward the table. “i was wondering why we met here instead of the library.”

he blinks, then ducks his head, pushing his glasses up with his knuckle, suddenly shy. “oh. um. the café’s closer to where i live.”

you nod slowly, biting back a smile. “huh.” you tilt your head. “so you dragged me across town for your own convenience?”

“not dragged,” he says, a little defensively. “i picked a place with good coffee.”

you raise your brow and he shrinks just slightly in his seat.

“and you said you didn’t mind,” he adds, quieter.

you don’t. you really don’t. but you’re not about to let him off that easy.

“mm. you’re lucky the coffee is good.”

he grins, soft and crooked.

“i am lucky.”

he doesn’t know what he’s saying. what it’s doing to you.

you don’t trust your voice enough to respond, so you flip to the next page of your notes and hope he can’t hear your heartbeat from across the table.

he, for his part, doesn’t say anything else. just ducks his head again, hair falling even further into his face as he pushes up his glasses with one finger. your eyes follow the movement before you can stop yourself.

it’s almost unfair. how soft he looks like this.

you draw a slow breath, steadying yourself before you speak.

“alright, professor,” you murmur, aiming for light. “you’ve got me at a café. impress me.”

he huffs a laugh, head still bowed.

“no pressure or anything,” he mumbles, flipping to a page of problem sets.

you lean your chin into your hand, elbow propped against the table. “you’re the one who insisted on the earlier session.”

“and i stand by it,” he says, voice warming again. “even if i almost died trying to get here.”

“do you always get nosebleeds when you're rushing to meet girls?”

he pauses mid-scribble. you see the smile tug at the corner of his mouth before he tries to hide it.

“only the pretty ones,” he says, barely above a whisper.

your breath catches. just for a second, just long enough to feel it, sharp and hot in your chest. you glance down at your notebook, heart thudding.

you don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything.

your fingers freeze over the spiral of your notebook, eyes trained on a random line of notes that suddenly means nothing to you.

across from you, jungkook goes still, turning red. not just a faint dusting across his cheeks. full-on, unmistakable, spreading fast across his face and up to the tips of his ears. he ducks his head, hiding behind the curtain of his hair like he’s trying to disappear into it, lips pressing together in a tight, horrified line.

you’re not sure either of you can believe he just said that.

he thinks you’re pretty, he thinks you’re pretty, he thinks you’re pretty. it plays on loop in your brain, each echo a little more dizzying than the last. your heart skips and stumbles all over itself, half stuck on the words and half on the fact that he meant them. he must’ve meant them.

jungkook coughs into his hand, trying to recover. “i.. uh. sorry,” he mutters, still not looking up. “that was—i was joking.”

“bad joke,” you say quietly, eyes still on your page.

he exhales a shaky breath. “yeah.”

neither of you look up. neither of you move.

the silence stretches. not awkward. not exactly. just charged.

you pretend to read your notes, pen tapping against the margin, heartbeat thudding loud enough that it might as well be on the table between you. jungkook still hasn’t looked up.

you steal a glance at him.

his hair’s fallen further into his face, half hiding the flush that still stains his cheeks. his fingers are clenched around his pen, knuckles pale, foot bouncing under the table in a restless rhythm.

he’s panicking*.*

not outwardly—he’s too quiet for that. too soft. but it’s there. in the way his eyes stay fixed on the same spot in his notebook, in the way his throat moves when he swallows. and for some reason, the realization makes your chest squeeze.

you almost tell him it’s okay. almost say, you don’t have to be sorry. i didn’t mind it. i’m still thinking about it.

but then he shifts, shoulders squaring, and finally meets your eyes.

“can we pretend i didn’t say that?” he asks, voice low. he says it with a forced little smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

and maybe that’s what makes your decision for you. you look at him for a second longer, then nod once. “sure,” you say, and it comes out smoother than you expect. “you didn’t say anything.”

jungkook exhales through his nose, relief barely veiling the disappointment that flickers across his face.

you both go back to your notes, but neither of you turn the page.

the apartment is quiet when jungkook gets in. the door clicks shut behind him, soft in the silence, but it still makes him flinch. he toes off his shoes, drops his bag by the door, jacket halfway off before he even makes it to the couch. when he does he sinks down hard, palms dragging over his face.

“fuck,” he mutters into his hands.

he’s still rattled.

still replaying the way you looked at him right after—head tilted, eyes wide, something unreadable passing over your face like you were trying to decide if you’d actually heard him right.

only the pretty ones.

the words hit like a sucker punch even now.

he hadn’t meant to say it. hadn’t planned to. hadn’t even realized it was hovering on the tip of his tongue until it was already out there between you, hanging in the air, sticky and impossible to ignore.

you went quiet. you let him backpedal. let him pretend it was a joke, let him erase it even though he wanted nothing more for you to know how pretty you are to him. he leans back into the couch, head tipping against the cushions, and he closes his eyes.

the quiet is louder than it should be.

no city noise, no music, no jimin yelling at him to put ice on something or to stop being so obvious whenever your name comes up. just the echo of that one second. that one look.

you didn’t smile, didn’t tease. you looked stunned. and jungkook can’t decide what’s worse; the fact that he said it, or the fact that some part of him wants to say it again and again until you believe it, until you say something back.

he exhales, long and shaky, and scrubs a hand through his hair. he’s so far in it he doesn’t know how to claw his way out.

he’s not even sure he wants to.

you’re supposed to be paying attention.

there’s something about classical conditioning echoing through the lecture hall speakers. something about pavlov, about dogs and bells and salivating, but your pen is too busy trailing along the edge of your notebook, filling the margins with half-formed flowers and a lopsided spider.

you try to focus. really, you do. you nod when the professor emphasizes a point, scribble a keyword or two, underline extinction twice. but then your eyes drift. out the window, across the aisle, down to the corner of your desk where you’ve already drawn the same sleepy-looking face three different times.

and somehow, every version of it ends up looking a little like him.

you bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head, as if that’ll snap you out of it.

it’s just been happening more often lately—this thing where your thoughts spiral without warning. one second you’re zoning out mid-lecture, and the next you’re remembering the way his fingers brushed yours last week at least three different times.

your professor clicks to the next slide, and the class collectively shifts to pretend they’re still with him.

you sigh, resting your chin on your hand. you don’t mean to get so distracted. but it’s hard not to, when every other thought seems to circle back to the same person.

stupid.

you draw another web in the corner of the page. smaller this time. neater. you don’t know what you’re waiting for. but something in your chest keeps tugging like you’re supposed to be paying attention to something else entirely.

you tap your pen against the edge of your desk. once, twice. again.

“focus,” you mumble to yourself, but it’s useless.

your mind’s already gone, drifting somewhere else entirely—back to the café, which shouldn’t feel as significant as it does, where jungkook stumbled in late, glasses slipping down his nose, hair a mess, breathless and apologetic and still unfairly handsome. back to the night even further back when spider-man nearly collapsed onto your living room floor.

you press the pen harder.

jungkook, spider-man.

one sitting next to you with messy hair and nervous hands, the other bleeding on your couch with too much weight on your shoulder. neither of them probably thinking about you right now.

you don’t even know why that stings.

you’re not dating jungkook. spider-man’s not your friend. you’re just someone who needs help in chemistry. someone who opened her door because someone looked like they were going to fall apart.

you sigh, draw another line across the page. your flowers are losing their shape.

maybe it’d be easier if your chest didn’t feel so tight every time you thought about either of them. you wonder what that says about you. you wonder what that says about them.

your professor says something about freud. you hear someone snicker near the back. you don’t laugh. you just stare down at the little spider in the corner of your page, and trace the thread it’s dangling from. the line stretches up toward the edge of the page, thin and a little shaky.

your pen pauses. you wonder if you’re doing the same thing—hanging off something delicate and invisible, waiting for it to pull or snap or hold.

your professor’s voice drones on, something about repression now. the subconscious. emotional imprinting.

you huff under your breath. “great timing.”

the girl in front of you glances back, but you don’t bother explaining.

your hand shifts again, pen back to work. you draw another figure next to the spider. smaller. a blur of curls and oversized sleeves. he’d probably laugh if he saw it. or tilt his head in that curious way he does when you’re speaking and he wants to say something but doesn’t.

jungkook’s always holding something back. you wonder how much of it is hiding, and how much of it is habit. you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep, scribble a lazy border around your newest doodle to distract yourself.

you’re being emotional. a tad dramatic. maybe it’s just the weather. or the exhaustion. or the fact that every time jungkook smiles at you, it feels like your ribs are curling in on themselves.

you press your pen down until the tip almost snaps. whatever it is, it needs to stop. you’re not built for this kind of uncertainty. you never have been.

you don’t remember the last ten minutes of lecture.

the lights flick on, and the room starts moving before your brain catches up. notebooks close, zippers hum, someone’s already halfway down the stairs before the professor even says have a good weekend.

you sigh, stuff your notes into your bag, ignore the half-page of doodles that somehow ended with a cracked spiderweb and a boy curled up at the center of it. your legs ache as you shuffle out into the hallway, pulled along by the current of students flooding toward the exits.

taehyung finds you near the vending machines, all slouched posture and too-long sleeves.

“there she is,” he says, popping a piece of gum into his mouth without offering you any. “my favorite academically struggling genius.”

you shoot him a look. “what’s with the weird greeting?”

“you’ve got your crisis face on,” he says, tapping his temple. “it’s very i’m thinking too hard about boys again, so i figured i’d meet you halfway.”

you scoff. “i’m not thinking about boys.”

taehyung squints. “okay, so which boy, then?”

you groan, dragging a hand down your face.

he lifts his brows, smug. “that’s what i thought.”

you push open the building doors and step out into the cold, the wind catching your sleeves and snapping at your legs. “it’s not like that,” you mutter.

“you always say that when it’s exactly like that.”

you glare at him. “are you going to walk me to my next class or just psychoanalyze me until i melt into the sidewalk?”

“i can multitask,” taehyung grins, pulling his hood up as he falls into step beside you. “so, is it the covalent cutie or your friendly neighborhood rebound?”

you blink. “excuse me?”

“nothing.” he stretches his arms behind his head, all faux innocence. “just wondering how many men you’re collecting this semester.” you bump your shoulder into his, harder than necessary, and taehyung wheezes and laughs. “god, you’re so defensive when you’re in denial.”

you don’t respond. mostly because he’s right.

taehyung shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, lips pursed in mock thought. “so, there’s gonna be a party friday,” he says casually.

you glance at him, unimpressed. “cool. have fun.”

he snorts. “you’re not even gonna pretend to consider it?”

“nope.”

“rude.”

“you invited me like you were ordering takeout,” you say, stepping over a crack in the pavement. “not exactly persuasive.”

“fine.” he sighs dramatically. “you, my beloved friend, are cordially invited to a moderately chaotic social gathering where someone’s bound to cry in the bathtub, and no less than three people will make out in the kitchen.”

you lift an eyebrow. “tempting.”

“right? i’m selling this.”

“still no.”

he pouts. “why not?”

you shrug. “i’ve got stuff to do.”

“you always have stuff to do.”

you don’t respond right away. you just keep walking, eyes fixed on the cracks in the sidewalk, the wind pulling at the hem of your shirt. taehyung sighs again, quieter this time.

“you know,” he says, bumping your arm lightly with his. “you’re allowed to take a break. have a drink. forget about whatever mess is chewing you up for a couple hours.”

you chew on the inside of your cheek.

you know he’s right. you just don’t know how to say it doesn’t really help when the mess comes with a charming smile and really cute doe eyes and the prettiest lips you’ve ever seen.

so you shrug again. “maybe next time.” taehyung groans dramatically, flopping his head back as you both walk. “you are so stubborn.”

“thanks.”

“that wasn’t a compliment.”

you snort. “sure it wasn’t.”

he glances sideways at you, lips pursed. plotting. calculating.

“okay,” he says finally. “what if i told you it’s not just any party?”

you raise a brow. “is this where you tell me it’s a secret underground masquerade with a five-star buffet?”

“no,” he says, deadpan. “but there will be snacks. and possibly jello shots. and—” he pauses for effect, wagging his eyebrows, “your chemistry tutor might be there.”

you blink. “jungkook?”

taehyung shrugs, faking nonchalance. “could be. dunno. hoseok’s throwing it, and i know they’re tight. might swing by.”

your stomach does something stupid. you look away before taehyung can see it. “that’s not a reason to go.”

“oh, it’s definitely a reason.”

“tae—”

“look,” he says, gentler this time. “you’ve been tense for weeks. you deserve, like, two hours of being normal. you don’t have to dance on the table or hook up with anyone. just show up. breathe. hang out.”

you slow your steps. you hate that he’s making sense. you hate that the idea of maybe running into jungkook makes your chest tighten in a way you refuse to examine too closely.

you sigh. “fine.”

taehyung beams. “yes*.* victory.”

“don’t make it weird.”

“no promises.”

you shake your head, but you’re smiling when he throws an arm around your shoulders, loud and smug and already gloating. you pretend to be annoyed.

you pretend it’s not already the only thing you’re going to think about for the rest of the day.

taglist : @rpwprpwprpwprw @haru-jiminn @glossdebut @mimi1097 @angellekookie @yooniivrse @knivesdoingcartwheels @annyeongbitch7 @hemmosfear

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | seventeen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.8k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, very much a filler chapter but a wholesome domestic one!, couple of small flashbacks, oral (f. & m. receiving)/34+35, doggy style, mentions of multiple orgasms, the smut is not suuuuper descriptive - just enough lol, my oh my the tables have turned!, sorry if i missed anything 😞

⇢ 1.5 YEARS LATER

You turn towards the door when you hear someone pressing your door code into the keypad. It beeps twice before the door swings open and in walks San.

"Hey baby." He kicks his shoes off with a smile, immediately coming behind you to press a kiss to the back of your head.

"Hey."

"Sorry it took longer than expected, there was an accident. It was traffic for a bit at some point."

"All good. I got a little lazy and didn't start baking until a bit ago to distract myself." 

"Baking, hm?" He chuckles, setting down the takeout bag down on your kitchen counter. "What're you baking, love?"

"I found a recipe for s'mores cookies online and it looked really good. Just the perfect sugar crash I need, especially when I'm at the hospital trying to sort through our study patients."

"Sounds delicious, actually." You finish scooping the cookie dough onto the baking sheet, sliding it into the oven to bake for about 30 minutes. You turn to San and finally give your man a quick peck on the lips before he starts to pull out the takeout containers from the bag. "To top it off, I got your favorites from the Chinese restaurant near my house. Might be a bit cold so we probably have to re-heat these."

"Thank you, Sannie."

"Anytime, baby."

The past year and a half had been nothing but busy and productive. Waves of excitement, stress and anxiety. But, you wouldn't have it any other way. At first, you questioned your transfer; but over time, as the study picked up and your projects continued to develop and produce beautiful, effective results, you found yourself slipping into a perfect routine. Feeling happier than ever, like you've finally found your niche, a spot carved just for you by the universe itself. Despite being busy himself with slowly prepping the new space with Jongho, teaching and his other lab obligations, San was always there to support you and push you forward every step of the way.

You've gotten your name on a few papers that highlighted some of the work you've contributed [especially Sunwoo's], you've agreed to do a few talks at smaller symposiums— still traveling near [and far] to participate as an attendee or presenter. Everything just feels.. right, like this was where you were meant to be despite the ups and downs it took to get you here.

—FLASHBACK

"Is she ready?" Christopher asks as he sits next to Jongho and San, rolling the symposium agenda in his hand.

"Let me slip in right there." Namjoon pops out of nowhere, squeezing himself through the row in order to sit on San's free side.

"Where'd you guys come from?" Jongho cocks a brow up as they sit, nonchalantly settling down without any question or concern.

"Outside, where else?"

"I didn't even think you two were still here. We didn't run into you guys towards the last half." San says furrowing his brows, catching a glimpse of Yunho settling on a seat in the far corner of the room alone. "Even Yunho's here?"

"Who is going to miss a joint presentation with Y/N and Qi Jaemi? Especially a presentation about tools we've used in the lab being the driving force in a clinical setting?"

"True." Chris laughs. "I'm excited to hear it." He nudges San when you come into view on stage next to Professor Qi. "All you, huh?" You probably can't see San in the crowd right now as you're getting mic'd up, but he thinks it's best you don't. His cheeks are flushed red because he's shy with his friends teasing him left and right, but yes.

That's all him, and he's fucking proud of it.

"Yeah, she is all mine."

"She's come a long way. I knew the opportunity would help her thrive. She was perfect for it." Namjoon says, tugging on his blazer.

"She might top you on the charts, bro." Jongho jokes while San nudges him.

"I don't care. Fine by me if my lady shines."

"You're so—" The lights dim, and the host is getting ready to kick off the start of the next session. It's a smaller session during this symposium; there are other big talks currently happening, some from Nobel laureates, some from highly accredited folks in the bioengineering game. But the four [along with Yunho], are sitting here to support you and your work. They've all been following your progress over time, interested to see how everything grows.

How you excel, how you blossom.

"Hi everyone, my name is Jaemi, and this is my grad student, Y/N. She's been doing fantastic work both in the lab and in the clinical setting, so I asked her to join me today to present her findings with our study patients and how we're driving some of these studies with the knowledge we've grabbed from running rodent behavior experiments in lab." Professor Qi steps out of the spotlight in order for you to introduce yourself. San's got big twinkles in his eyes, pure of love and adoration. He's so in love, he almost finds himself doing a standing ovation until Namjoon presses his hand against his chest and subtly nods.

"Keep your ass down." Jongho laughs to himself, making San click his teeth and sigh in response.

"But, that's my lady."

"So, let your lady do her thing and applaud her after she's done. You'll probably make her more nervous."

"Fine." San pouts, a small smirk creeping up on his lips the more he stares at you and watches you do your thing with Professor Qi on stage.

—END

All of this unfolded the way it was meant to.

As for San, he's been busying himself with Jongho, getting things together for their new lab space in the other building. They've already got their equipment and the layouts of each room set up, and they've slowly started to move a few of their lab members over to start collaborating and working on a new developing project they had been discussing. He plans to finally hire himself a lab manager who can help oversee his labs and help him run the day-to-day operations while he focuses on his classes and running things behind the scenes. 

San seems way happier, and you couldn't ask for more. He's definitely busier [as if he wasn't already], but he never fails to make time for you. Regardless of how exhausted he may be.

San is unwavering.

After San reheats the food, he sets everything down onto your coffee table, along with your chopsticks and a can of your favorited sweet tea [as of recently]. You plop next to your man after the cookies finish baking, setting them on a small heart-shaped plate alongside of the food. You put on the show you two had been indulging in, a show inspired by the theme of Clue and a case of 'whodunnit.' You love the show, but you mainly love watching San get worked up over his own theories. 

"So, I heard." You poke at your rice and sesame chicken before scooping up a small amount with your chopsticks.

"What?" He looks at you before returning his attention to your TV, chopsticks almost missing his mouth while he furrows his brow at the scene. 

"I heard Yunho and Iseul separated." San chuckles a bit.

"Oh, that. Yeah." San continues to eat, unbothered. Part of him is always going to wish them well and hope for the best regardless, because he's not the type of person to wish any negativity even on his worst enemy. But, he can't say he's not glad to finally see the karma come back around. All in time, he supposes. "I learned about the separation through Chris."

"Hm." You hum. "Yunho must have probably come to his senses."

"Maybe."

"Would you.. ever become friends with Yunho again?" San pauses before he shakes his head.

"Nah. We just weren't meant to be in each other's lives and I've accepted it. Hope he's good, though." You softly smile at him before laying your head on his shoulder before eating some more. "Did you hear about the other bit with Iseul?" He continues to eat, eyes trained on your TV screen.

"I just heard her papers were under investigation, but I don't know the details. Jiung and them didn't know either."

"The panel is investigating her and her lab because they're claiming there was falsified data in her some of her papers. They don't think she had anything to do with it directly, but she's still being scrutinized for not catching it and for not overseeing her lab members who worked on the project properly."

"Really?" You look at him with wide-eyes. "Did you.. ever get wind of that or get a feeling about it?" He shrugs.

"Not really, I honestly didn't think she'd ever be in this predicament. I've read her papers and have seen the work her lab members do."

"Hm. Do you think she didn't know anything about it at all?"

"To tell you honestly, I'm not sure."

"Well. Guess you really don't know someone like you think you do."

"Yeah." Is all San says before he gives you a small smile and presses a kiss to your forehead. "I know you, though."

"Do you?" You tease and he taps the tip of your nose.

"Better than I know myself, I'd like to think." 

"Yeah." You giggle, kissing his lips sweetly. "So, tomorrow." You set your things down onto the coffee table, prompting San to stand and gather all the dishes to wash in the sink.

"Tomorrow, yes." He chuckles. "What time is your mom coming?"

"She said not too early because she wants to sleep in." San laughs louder.

"Felt that for sure. Excited to spend the day with two beautiful ladies, though."

"My mom is excited, too. We finally have a man to drive us around." You tease jokingly and he snorts.

"At your service, indeed." San wipes his hands dry after setting the dishes onto your drying rack. He indulges in the fresh cookies you made, plopping himself back down next to you with an arm draped over the back of the couch. You cuddle up against him, laughing as you continue to watch your show together without any major distractions for the first time that night. Well, until—

"Baby." San cuts in after a moment of silence that falls between the two of you mid-episode.

"Hm?" You hum, your arm wrapped around him while you rest your head on his shoulder.

"You should really take your weekends off like this. Don't burn yourself out, especially since you do so much heavy lifting in the lab and hospital." San's fingers gently rub at your arm.

"Says you, huh?"

"Nah uh, you don't get to do that." He pinches your side, making you giggle and squeal. "Don't be like me. If there's anything I truly want and value, it's to make us different than the past. I want us to work together and be on the same page no matter what."

"I know, Sannie. I want that for us, too." 

"You know you can always come to me if anything's wrong or if you aren't feeling your best. I'll always do what I can to work it out and make you feel better." He taps your nose. "I'm here to take care of you, but I also want you to take care and make sure you aren't overworking yourself."

"I think I'm doing pretty good with setting up boundaries for myself. But, that goes for you, too. I know it's been hectic getting the new lab space ready." He shrugs a bit.

"Hasn't been too bad having Namjoon and Jongho there. I appreciate their help a lot."

"That's good. I'm glad. I'm glad you always have Jongho and them to lean on." He nods before looking back down at you with a small smirk.

"Have I told you how proud I am of you?"

"A few times, but I could use the reminder." You match his energy, crawling onto his lap. He looks up at you with the sun, the moon, the universe, in his eyes, his arms wrapped lazily around your waist.

"I'd be happy to give you another reminder." He sits up to hold you flush against his body, lips grazing your neck to litter feathery kisses across the surface. "Maybe.. one that I could show you instead?"

"Oh yeah?" You giggle, squealing when San suddenly lifts you up into his arms and wraps your legs around him�� carrying you to the room in your one bedroom apartment. The show is a long lost thought in the background; San gently dropping you onto your mattress. He removes his shirt from his body, tossing it to the floor with yours.

Until you're both bare. 

He kisses you heavily, messily, until he fixes his position on the bed and rests his head against your pillows. He brings you towards him, gently having you sit on is face while you work away at his cock. He laps away while you throat him deeply, loud moans vibrating against the other while you continue your motions.

That 69, all that face time.

And right before you're about to tip over the edge, San snatches your orgasm away from you, pushing you down— ass raised high for him while he's got your cheek pressed to the mattress. He fucks you into oblivion, pistoling his hips into you at a rough, harsh pace; San damn near drooling over the red marks he's leaving on your ass. He pounds into you, earning the repeated moans and calls of his name until your body feels like it'll go limp any minute.

White noise.

Static.

The orgasm rippling through your entire body as San continues to chase his own high. He praises you the entire time, his deep moans, growls, echoing in the room. Your legs feel like jello, and your body is still dealing with the post-orgasm aftershocks, but you're too far gone to care. Too deep into San, too deep into your love for this man. He finally reaches his end, releasing his seed into you, letting it drip down your pussy when he pulls out and disconnects himself from you— tip of his cock messily spreading the stragglers along your ass unintentionally.

San presses a hot trail of kisses up your spine before holding you close and turning you over— brushing the hair away from your face as he stares deep into your eyes, examines every bit of your beauty. He's not done with you yet, no. As a matter of fact, he dips forward to kiss you slowly, deeply. Hands roaming across your body, pinching and teasing at your nipples.

Leaving hickeys on your breasts because only he can see his own artwork.

Then, he goes again, and again. Fucking you with your head damn near hung over the edge of the bed, pounding into you against the shower wall.

Pushing you to your climax for another two times that night.

Because you're his good girl, and he's so damn proud of you.

Your phone starts blaring on the nightstand, causing you to jolt awake— an eye still shut as you lean over to answer the call from your mom.

"Hey mom?"

"Hey lovey! I'm gonna be there in about 30 minutes. Sorry, I figured I'd come earlier, hope that's okay. Couldn't sleep in as much as I wanted to." You suddenly feel more awake than earlier, immediately throwing your legs over the edge of the bed while San's hand lazily falls onto the mattress.

"Yeah, of course. We'll be ready for you." 

"Sounds good! Excited to see you two." Your mom says cheerfully before ending the call. You let out a breath as you set your phone down, gently nudging San awake. "Sannie."

"Hm." He hums sleepily, not moving from his position in the bed. You quietly laugh to yourself seeing his bed hair and red cheeks, hand roaming the mattress to find any sign of you nearby.

"San, get up. Mom is on her way."

"I'm so tired." He groans and whines. "Wore me the fuck out last night."

"Choi San!" You scold him as you hurriedly grab his shirt from the floor and slipping it on, rushing to the bathroom to quickly wash up and get ready before your mom comes knocking.

"What?" He sits up groggily, running his hand down his face, the sheets still covering his bare torso. "It's the truth."

"She's gonna be here any minute." You blabber while brushing your teeth. "Please put on some clothes." San chuckles and dips forward to grab his boxer briefs from the floor— the result of you two choosing to sleep bare that previous evening.

"Okay, okay." He slips into his boxers and walks over to the bathroom to join you in getting ready for the day. You throw on a denim mini skirt and a long sleeve button-up top with knee-high boots. San dresses in slacks and a short-sleeve button up, his hair softly framing his face. Just as he messily ruffles his hair and sprays on a bit of his favorite cologne, your mom knocks on the front door. You happily swing the door open and squeal at the same time your mom does, engaging in a tight, comforting bear hug. 

"My hunbun, how's it going? I know it's been awhile since your schedule has been so busy." Your mom cups your cheeks and pulls you in for another big hug. San comes out of your room, smiling at the moment you're having with her. Your mom smiles at him just as she pulls away, making her way over to him with arms wide open. "San!"

"Hey mom." He says, wrapping his arms around her tightly. 

"So handsome, my god." Your mom mutters while pulling away, making you and San laugh. She quickly shoves a bag full of food she cooked into your fridge, telling you to share with San so it doesn't go to waste. Your mom knew your schedule had been crazy— from your class schedule, to working in the lab and in the hospital for the clinical study. She worried about you more often than not, even texting San to make sure you were getting enough rest in between.

Hence, all his reminders.

"Not even." San blushes. "Anyway, you two beautiful ladies ready to head out?" You and your mom nod, grabbing your purse from the counter before heading out of your apartment.

You and your mom link arms as San is leading the way to his car. He opens the passenger and back door for you and your mom, making sure the both of you are comfortable before driving off to the first destination. 

Today was meant to be a day to spend good time with your mom and San, being that all three of you finally aligned on schedules. Your mom kept hinting that she wanted to head to the outdoor outlet about 30 minutes away from your apartment before indulging in a deep tissue massage, then an early birthday dinner celebration for your mom.

During the car ride over, your mom asks San for updates and how things are going with his lab and the new lab space. You love the way they both easily converse with each other, making it ten times more comfortable for you [and less work of carrying conversation]. They tease and joke around with each other, making you laugh in between. 

You're grateful they were able to build a good relationship over time, just like you and San's mom. San's dad is still slightly closed off and keeps his distance, but you weren't gonna force it if he wanted to keep it that way.

—FLASHBACK

"Where is she, where is she, where is she!" San's mom repeats as she races out the front door and to the car. You laugh as she approaches the window, San barely putting the car in park. You step out and immediately embrace her in a hug while she quickly waves at San and forgets about her son all together.

"Hi to you, too." San laughs as he digs his hands into his pockets, watching as you two head into the house. He shuts the door close and steps out of his shoes, his mom pouring the melon juice she made into cups. She rushes over to the dining table to hand you a big bag, and San already knows she bought you a few things from his parents' trip to Paris. She takes out the items to go through them one by one, the both of you completely oblivious to San standing nearby. He sees his dad come out from his study and into the hallway towards the kitchen, eyes peering over his glasses.

"San." His father says, looking back down at the tablet in his hands. He sees the two of you laughing and drinking the melon juice.

"Look who's here! Y/N came by with San." 

"Hi Mr. Choi." You can openly call San's mother 'mom,' but you hadn't built that relationship with his father and you weren't sure you ever would.

"Hi Y/N." He says. Politely, but he doesn't give you much attention after that, asking San's mom about their upcoming schedule. San comes from behind you, gently rubbing at your lower back, placing a kiss to your temple as a way to reassure you.

"I'm sorry, love. He always bothers me at the wrong time." San's mom playfully rolls her eyes. "So you two, tell me what's new. Especially you, dear." She brushes your hair back. "How's the clinical study going?"

—END

When the three of you arrive at the outlet, San is able to find a parking spot nearby. The outlet has a couple of stores both you and your mom are excited to hit, leaving San to trail behind— happily watching as you two move from store to store, piling on bags and bags. Eventually, he takes over and holds both of your bags, letting you guys freely enjoy yourselves as you continue to shop and enjoy each other's company. Amidst all the shopping excitement, you, San and your mom sit down for some iced drinks and pretzel dogs; snacking away for a bout of energy to walk through the last half of the outlet before heading to the massage appointment.

At the end of the shopping trip, you and San go halfsies on buying your mom a cute Louie Vuitton bag she had been eyeing. She almost cries when she comes back from the bathroom, watching the staff pack it up nicely and wrap it up in a big bow to top it off. She continued to urge you two to return it, but you brushed it off and pretended to not hear her.

Your mom deserved every bit of today, and you were glad you and San could deliver. She, too, had been working so hard, pulling in overtime just to keep herself busy and on her feet. She deserved to be spoiled.

The spa is only 15 minutes away and not busy when you arrive. The three of you are taken inside to separate rooms, stripped down to robes and asked to get comfortable. You didn't realize just how much you needed the massage until it finally takes its course, your eyes shutting contently and in peace.

You were definitely close to falling asleep a few times, might have actually dozed off once.

After the 60 minute deep tissue massage, you feel like a brand new person. You feel more light on your feet, less tense and tight around certain pain points. San pulls you in for a sweet kiss when you reunite, your mom teasing the both of you for being 'too cute for words.'

For dinner, San made reservations at a fancy restaurant right near the coastside, making sure to put in a good word for your mom's birthday when he called. It's a very busy Italian restaurant— big in size, staff running from end to end while chefs are calling out orders in the back. There's a ton of chatter going on from table to table, booth to booth. The host brings you to a booth right near the window, giving you a good view of the sun setting below the horizon, ocean waves crashing against the shore at a distance.

"This is beautiful, San." He smiles.

"You like?"

"I love." Your mom says in awe, staring out the window.

"All on me."

"But, you covered the massage. And my purse, god my purse?!"

"And I'll cover dinner." He chuckles. "It's your birthday. I wanna treat you, okay?" You laugh.

"He does have a point, ma. Today was a birthday celebration for you." The host comes back with two roses, handing it to both you and your mom in tiny vases. 

"Roses for you ladies." The host says, doing a curt bow.

"This comes with it, too?"

"Course. And another surprise later."

"Uh oh, we get a birthday song and cake!" San laughs and shushes you.

"Baby." He mumbles under his breath and gently pinches your side, making you laugh loudly as you skim the menu.

"Thank you, love." You respond.

"Of course. Any appetizers you wanna start off with?"

"The calamari sounds good."

"And the spinach artichoke dip with chips." San nods.

"Solid choices. I agree." The three of you order some non-alcoholic drinks before giving the waiter your order for appetizers and the main courses. It doesn't take long for the appetizers and drinks to arrive, keeping you busy until the main entrees arrive. You, San and your mom talk a little bit about your time in Professor Qi's lab and how you seem to be doing better about balancing your workload. They listen as you explain what next steps are, what directions you're hoping to take with your projects in the future.

Well, at least, you feel more positive about implementing changes to your routine so that you aren't overworking yourself or burning out quickly.

"I'll be right back, I need to go to the bathroom." San nods and gives your thigh a squeeze before scooting out of the booth to let you go.

"I think it's all the way towards the back." He says. You nod and he continues to stand, watching until he feels confident you're headed in the right direction. You scurry off to the bathroom towards the back of the dark, dimly lit restaurant, leaving San to entertain your mom while you're away momentarily. But you don't worry at all, especially when they don't even seem to mind you being gone; too deep into their own conversation about you, your relationship. Seemed to be the perfect moment, anyway.

"I'm glad she's finding a little bit more of a balance with her schedule now, San." He nods and smiles toothlessly.

"I am, too. I'll keep reminding her. Don't worry." She nods and laughs a bit.

"I'm just worried about her, as always. I know it took her a lot to get into grad school and where she is today. She struggled for awhile and finally felt like she was in a good place, like she had purpose. I know all she wants to do is work hard and push through, but I don't want her to get sick or hurt herself. I don't want anything to happen to her, and I especially don't want all of this to be taken away from her in any fashion."

"It won't. She's amazing at what she does, and she's passionate about it. It doesn't take much to see that. But, I think she knows her boundaries well. She knows when she can and can't push herself, or when she shouldn't. She'll find her rhythm over time and it'll be better." Your mom sips on her water and slowly nods.

"You take good care of her. I can tell you genuinely care about my daughter."

"I do. I love her. I really love her. Deeply." He pauses before fiddling with the edge of the napkin. He feels his nerves growing, and he's trying his best to push it away. "A-And if it's not too much to consider now, I'd like to get your permission and blessing to care for her and take care of her, especially after she graduates."

"Y-You're asking now?" Your mom asks in slight disbelief, even though she's mostly in shock because San is asking now. It's not that she doesn't believe him, or doesn't think he'd keep his word. It's the fact that he's even doing it in the first place so early on. 

"I, yeah." San chuckles. "I'm sorry, mom. I don't mean to scare you, but I'm certain about her." San sips on his drink. "I don't necessarily hop from one relationship to another. I'm not that kind of guy. And I know you might've heard a bit about my last marriage, but I can assure you—"

"I know, San. I know." Your mom puts her hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "Y/N told me all about it. I hope you don't mind. She told me everything about Iseul and Yunho. Those unbelievable bastards."

"Oh— yeah. Right." San laughs with your mom before they sit in silence for a bit. 

"I'd love for you to take care of my daughter and be there by her side." Your mom breaks the silence with her sweet statement. "You've been a good support system for her and I can't thank you enough for being there. For remaining by her side despite the hard circumstances."

"Always. I'll always be there. She's my priority."

"And I know you mean it." Your mom looks at him and reaches over the table to gently squeeze his hand. Because for the first time, she sees the real, genuine definition of love, support, safety and comfort— all wrapped up in one person.

San.

And you just so happened to be his end goal.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated @randajjjad

[ronearoundblindly]

hey! fic title: we want what we can’t have

Hmmmm, this makes me think of like a parasocial online relationship, and you know, if it's online, I'm going with our boi, Jakey... From this ask game.

Jake Jensen x influencer!single mom!reader

Not really any warnings except Jake is a liarliarpantsonfire.

It started over at his sister's house. His niece loves to watch DIY videos on Youtube, and you're pretty big with kid-friendly projects that you and your daughter do on camera.

At first, Jake is so focused on not spilling a full jar of glitter across the table and carpet that he didn't notice you were very easy on the eyes, he didn't pick up on the slightly adult, double-entendres you laced in, and he didn't appreciate the stare-at-the-lens moments reminiscent of Jim from The Office.

By the third video though, he absolutely sees the appeal...even if it's not for the same reasons as his family. He's crushing hard, fast, and that was before he found your Twitch stream!

Jake could not care less if you're good at the games because he loves to hear your unhinged laugh when something goes awry. Pretty quickly he finds himself playing your videos while gaming himself and responding to questions you throw out into the void of the internet. No, you can't listen or answer, but IRL social interaction is not his specialty. He's enjoying living vicariously through this stuff.

He actually comments sometimes, not often though since he can see how inappropriate some guys (and girls) get with you in the stream. He knows he's too awkward to make a great impression in the midst of all that, so he keeps it light.

Jake is, however, in complete denial of how bad his crush on you is getting over the many, many months he dives deeper into your 'fandom.'

Once, when he found himself yet again watching a craft video with his niece, he responded without thinking. They were on the porch, squinting at a propped up tablet in the sun, and he quickly typed "me and my girl are loving this!"

Harmless enough, right? Sure, but then he got a ping back.

Be sure to send me a pic of the finished product.

So he did. He laid the two papers beside each other on the glass tabletop and snapped a shot.

😍 Whose is whose, I wonder...

So Jake had his niece hold up hers as he posed with his, ballcap, glasses, graphic-T, and all.

Someone else answered--oh man, is dad single???? --but you liked that comment and responded with a simple "my thoughts exactly 🤭."

He's in too deep now; he wants to talk to you. Jake types those fateful two words.

He is.

It's not strictly a lie, but he in no way corrects the mistaken interpretation. He cannot give up the opportunity.

So he takes some more goofy pictures in front of the wall of art in his niece's room, and you gush about how cute it (and he) is, noting the soccer trophies on one shelf.

Jake proudly tells you all about her many successes in private messages on Twitch [idk how twitch works just go with it if that's wrong], and you mention recognizing his username. There isn't a chance in hell he's letting go now. Guess he's a dad. Cool. He will literally do whatever you vaguely insinuate you want him to do, be whoever you seem to want him to be, anything.

It's still a lie though, and Jake even goes so far as to refer to his niece specifically as 'his daughter.' He's outright lying now, and he doesn't care. He keeps lying, and it spreads to lying to his sister once you announce a summer series of videos--you're taking your daughter to all the largest play grounds in the nearby states, one of which is 30 miles from his sister's place.

Jake floats the idea of taking his niece on this very specific day, says it can't be any other day, and fibs that it's because he'll be gone for work before and after. He messages you the good news that you can meet...if you're okay with that, and he's thrilled when you excitedly announce the girls can meet. Everyone will have so much fun; he's counting on it. Only thing Jake doesn't do is lie to his niece because he knows if he does she will immediately call bullshit and blurt out the truth.

So she's allowed to say 'Jake' or 'Jakey' but he asks her not to call him 'uncle.'

The whole day goes flawlessly, and only like 35% of what he says is effected by dishonesty. He is away a lot for work. He does wish he got more time with, uh, the girl over there playing with your daughter. That girl's mom is absolutely wonderful and they used to live together, technically, a long time ago.

When his niece calls him 'Jakey' in front of you, it's pretty easy to brush off. He's right, there is that age where kids rebel that way, and you remember when your daughter threw her first "no, mother" at you in defiance.

He leaves with your cell number and a long, lingering hug.

Jake's on cloud nine, as is his niece, so he thinks he's gotten away with it, texting with you frequently until days later when he's already deployed with Clay and the team to the other side of the Earth.

Why would my kid be saying that you aren't Cheeky's dad??? She said you STOLE HER FOR THE DAY. Jake, that is your real daughter, right? This is a joke, yeah? Answer me! Did you lie to us?!

No matter what he says, it's over though. He doesn't know how it came up, and his niece did not call him her uncle. Instead, he finds out she mentioned "Jake's not my real father but my mom loves him" which is doubly terrible. You're convinced she's his step kid, and Jake was somehow cheating by talking to you. Admitting he lied but not that bad doesn't help.

All conversation ends when you tell him to lose your number.

How could he possibly fix this?

⬆️⬆️⬆️ how i imagine y'all are about to come at me ⬆️⬆️⬆️

[Main Masterlist; Fic Title Only Asks; Jake Jensen Masterlist]

[verkomy]

if you steal art from artists and make ai images out of them and claim that you’re the artist and that your artworks are original then I’ve nothing nice to say to you and I wish for you not interact with me or my art

[16th-of-a-twigg]

Me who wants to be at home all day drawing blorbos Work: Do you like money? You gotta come in.

[the-illustrative-interloper]

Jonathan Harker’s Journal - May 28th

[okitanoniisan]

no one can reach my level of petty hating about the stupid english title

[bismuthburnsblue]

✨2024 makes wrap up! ✨

this ended up being a big year for me in terms of makes, though it didnt really feel like it at the time! im also realising how many of these projects i never did a proper wrap up post for, so i will try and do some more of those over the coming weeks!

Total sewing projects: 11 Costumes completed: 3 UFOS finished: 1.5 (one was a long-awaited alteration) buttons sewed for coworkers: 13 (ish)

and the full list, with links to posts as i write them!

Anne Pants

Anne Blouse

Anne Corset

Flora Dress

Janet Skirt

Record Bag

Ginny Skirt alteration

Ginny Vest

The Coat

Skirt alteration

Minecraft Guardian plushie

bonus mentions:

(things that werent sewing projects or didnt get completed, but felt important enough not to leave off!)

Anne necklace

Cross stitch progress

design a dress

swallow ita bag

below the cut ive wrote a little about the projects with pictures, if you wanna read more in depth thoughts!

Anne took up most of the start of my year, working from february to may on the parts of the costume. it took me outside my comfort zone in a lot of ways- my first time making pants, and the corset presented a whole bunch of new challenges, being in leather- any seam i made was impossible to fix. i made a whole bunch of mistakes, but im incredibly happy with the overall results anyway.

I took a break after Anne, chilled out, did some cross stitch, only to jump head first into Flora on an impulse (aka my friend said "do you want to?" and i said "say less") In spite of the time crunch, she was quite an easy build, following a pattern, not too much fitting, and most of the problems ended up being of my own making. after coming back to redo her hem in october, im super happy with how things came out!

I floated around for a bit over the summer, messing around with patterning the wing collar for the design-a-dress for a while, working on my Janet skirt, and patterning a couple other miscellaneous things before throwing myself into mcm prep again! as mentioned, i redid my Flora hem, and i also decided to learn a new type of skill! bag making!!!

Looking at my archive, i dont think i ever posted anything about the bag i made for Maggie, which is frankly a crime, because i love this thing!!! it was absolutely a learning curve & i didnt have all the best choice of materials (it was mostly scraps from my job and things from in my stash) but i really did learn so much that i can take forward into the future- which there definitely will be a future! i already have plans for at least three more bag projects, and im gonna figure out how to make ita bags too :D

then it was full steam ahead into november, and i decided i could finish another costume this year, and so it was time for Ginny! She was a mix of refashioning & from scratch work, but every fabric piece was made with recycled materials. I loved making this costume, it was super fun to mess around with techniques with no worry about how professional it looked at the end because she was such an obscure costume!

At the same time i was working on Ginny, i decided it was high time i finally finished the coat i started working on... two years ago ''':) this too was all about learning new techniques and understanding proper construction, and i am so, so happy with the results. theres definitely a couple pieces id like to come back and revisit at some point (looking at you, collar -_-) but i know those are mostly things only im going to see. im so glad i put it down for a while, i think ive done a lot better than i would have done this time last year- and i know when ive given it some time and come back again, ill do better then, too. but its wearable and cute, and i finally have a lovely winter coat :)

I thought i would be finishing the year with a couple of long overdue alterations to my favourite skirts, but i ended up only getting one done when my coworker asked for help making a christmas present for their friends kid. the second she showed me the pattern, i knew i could do better, and so i wrapped up my year with a mad dash to make a plushie guardian in a week before i finished work for the year.

You should know by now i love a challenge, and this sure was something different! i think id do things differently if i had more time, but im super happy with how this guy came out! it was great practice for satin stitching on my machine & working with tricky fabrics, and i think id definitely like to make another one, with a few changes to the design- and the colours of the fabric, as i had nothing to do with those! im telling the kid its a shiny guardian ;) either way, i hope the kid has a great time using him as a mace !!

and thats my year in review!! im hoping next year ill be able to do another one of these and be just as proud of everything ive achieved :)

[megamozartx]

"Hey Mozart, what kinds of things do you draw?"

Occasionally good, mostly shitposting, and apparently I redesigned Piano to be a judgmental goth.

And here's one time I drew Ruby-Spears Bass + Piano + Zero:

I've been drawing since I was 8 years old I'm very serious.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

do you ever have the irrepressible urge to do something time-consuming and useless

[apocalypticdemon]

i CANNOT wait for this semester to be over. 23 hours remain. God.

[yingxtkm]

I was debating between writing struggling on the next chapter of my fic or continue working on my safer seph piece since it’s been a good two days since I touched it.

I ended up baking instead.

[daughterofhecata]

READING LIST 2024

Jonathan Kellerman: Bad Love. An Alex Delaware Novel. (reread)

James Oswald: The Hangman’s Song. An Inspector McLean Novel.

Dirk Oschmann: Der Osten: eine westdeutsche Erfindung

Arthur Schnitzler: Traumnovelle

André Minninger: Die Drei ??? Der Ruf der Krähen

André Marx: Die Drei ??? Spur ins Nichts

Franz Kafka: Brief an den Vater

Candas Jane Dorsey: Drag Cop [org. title: The Adventures of Isabel. A Postmodern Mystery, by the Numbers.]

G.H. Stone: Die Drei ??? Angriff der Computerviren [org. title: The Three Investigators – Fatal Error]

Ray Bradbury: Fahrenheit 451

Chuck Palahnuik: Fight Club

Kari Erlhoff: Rocky Beach Crimes #4. Der blutrote Kondor.

Evelyn Boyd: Rocky Beach Crimes #2. Mord unter Palmen. (reread)

Robert Arthur: Die drei ??? und der seltsame Wecker [org. title: Afred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators in The Mystery of the Screaming Clock] (reread)

Jo Nesbø: Macbeth. Blut wird mit Blut bezahlt. [org. title: Macbeth]

William Shakespeare: Macbeth (reread)

Hendrik Buchna: Die Drei ??? und der dreiTag. Der Fluch der Sheldon Street.

Kurt Vonnegut: Slaughterhouse-Five or the Children's Crusade. A Duty Dance with Death.

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin gegen Herlock Sholmes [org. title: Arsène Lupin contre Herlock Sholmès]

M.V. Carey: Die Drei ??? Savage Statue – Grausame Göttin [org. title: The Case of the Savage Statue]

William McCay: Die Drei ??? Shoot the Works – Im Visier [org. title: Shoot the Works]

Tim Wenderoth: Die Drei ??? und der dreiTag. Im Zeichen der Ritter.

Ivan Leon Menger, John Beckmann: Die Drei ??? und der dreiTag. Fremder Freund.

Ilko-Sascha Kowalczuk: Die Übernahme. Wie Ostdeutschland Teil der Bundesrepublik wurde.

M.V. Carey: Die Drei ??? und die flammende Spur [org. title: Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators in The Mystery of The Flaming Footprints]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #1. The Bad Beginning.

William Arden: Die Drei ??? und der Automarder [org. title: The Three Investigators and the Mystery of the Smashing Glass]

Marco Sonnleitner: Die Drei ??? Schrecken aus der Tiefe

George Orwell: 1984

Guillaume Apollinaire: Liebesgedichte [herausgegeben von Ulla Hahn/Auswahl von Marc Föcking]

Jonathan Kellerman: The Ghost Orchid. An Alex Delaware Novel.

Michael Kühlen: Die Drei ??? Die weiße Anakonda

Christa Wolf: Nachdenken über Christa T.

Steffen Mau: Lütten Klein. Leben in der ostdeutschen Transformationsgesellschaft.

André Minninger: Die Drei ??? Die Spur der Toten

Kōtarō Isaka: Bullet Train [org. title: マリアビートル]

G.H. Stone: Die Drei ??? und die gefährlichen Fässer [org. title: Rough Stuff]

Ernst Jandl: lechts und rinks. gedichte statements peppermints.

Ben Nevis: Die Drei ??? Der dreiäugige Schakal

Kari Erlhoff: Die Drei ??? Im Schatten des Giganten

Bertolt Brecht: „Als ich nachher von dir ging“. Erotische Gedichte. [ausgewählt von Raimund Fellinger und Matthias Reiner]

James Oswald: Dead Men’s Bones. An Inspector McLean Novel.

André Marx: Die Drei ??? Meuterei auf hoher See

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #2. The Reptile Room.

G.H. Stone: Die Drei ??? und die Musikpiraten [org title: Reel Trouble]

Karel Čapek: Der Krieg mit den Molchen [org. title: Válka s mloky]

Ingeborg Bachmann: Die gestundete Zeit. Gedichte.

Ellen Kushner: Riverside #1. Swordspoint. (reread)

Countee Cullen: Color

Konstantin Wecker: Sage nein! Politische Lieder 1977-1992.

Philippe Besson: Venice Beach [org. title: Un Homme Accidentel]

Jonathan Kellerman: Obsession. An Alex Delaware Novel. (reread)

Cornelia Funke: Tintenwelt #2. Tintenblut. (reread)

Sara Berger: Experten der Vernichtung. Das T4-Reinhardt-Netzwerk in den Lagern Belzec, Sobibor und Treblinka.

Neil Gaiman: Coraline

Stephen King: Carrie

Astrid Vollenbruch: Die Drei ??? Geisterbucht

Plinio Bachmann, Rita Czapka, Knut Neumayer (Hrsg.): Kakanien. Neue Republik der Dichter.

Erich Fried: und Vietnam und. Einundvierzig Gedichte.

Georg Büchner: Woyzeck

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #3. The Wide Window.

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin. 813. Das Doppelleben des Arsène Lupin. [org. title: 813]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #4. The Miserable Mill.

Georg Büchner: Leonce und Lena

Christoph Dittert, Kari Erlhoff, Hendrik Buchna: Die Drei ??? Schattenwelt

Juli Zeh: Nullzeit

Evelyn Boyd: Rocky Beach Crimes #3. Eiskalter Rausch. (reread)

André Marx: Die Drei ??? Die Spur des Raben

Jostein Gaarder: Sofies Welt [org. title: Sofies verden]

Paul Verlaine: Gedichte [herausgegeben von Stephan Hermlin]

Philippe Besson: Hör auf zu lügen [org. title: Arrête avec tes mensonges]

Cornelia Funke: Tintenwelt #3. Tintentod. (reread)

Wolf Schneider: Deutsch für junge Profis

Klaus Mann: Mephisto. Roman einer Karriere.

Suzanne Collins: The Hunger Games #1. The Hunger Games. (reread)

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #5. The Austere Academy.

Jonathan Kellerman: Todesfeuer. Ein Alex-Delaware-Roman. [org. title: Evidence. An Alex Delaware Novel.] (reread)

Peer Meter, Isabel Kreitz: Haarmann

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin. The Crystal Stopper. [org. title: Le bouchon de cristal]

James Wood: Die Kunst des Erzählens [org. title: How Fiction Works]

Michael Kraske: Der Riss. Wie die Radikalisierung im Osten unser Zusammenleben zerstört.

Kari Erlhoff: Die Drei ??? Tauchgang ins Ungewisse (reread?)

James Ellroy: Blutschatten [org. title: The Big Nowhere]

El Marto, Frederik Richter: Made in Germany: Ein Massaker im Kongo. Eine grafische Reise zwischen Afrika und Europa.

Juli Zeh: Leere Herzen

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin heiratet oder In Arsène Lupins Geheimnisse eingeweiht. Erzählungen. [org. title: Les Confidences d’Arsène Lupin]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #6. The Ersatz Elevator.

Suzanne Collins: The Hunger Games #2. Catching Fire. (reread)

Ernest William Hornung: The Amateur Cracksman

Heda Margolius Kovály: Eine Jüdin in Prag. Unter dem Schatten von Hitler und Stalin [org. title: Under a Cruel Star: A Life in Prague, 1941-1968]

Louise Glück: Averno

Richard Breitman: The Architect of Genocide. Himmler and the Final Solution.

Marco Sonnleitner: Die Drei ??? Die Nacht der Gewitter

James Oswald: Prayer for the Dead. An Inspector McLean Novel.

George Orwell: Warum ich schreibe. Die großen Essays. [texts taken from “Essays” and “Fascism and Democracy”]

Kari Erlhoff: Die Drei ??? und das Fantasmofon

Louise Glück: The Wild Iris

Hendrik Buchna: Die Drei ??? Im Bann des Barrakudas

Suzanne Collins: The Hunger Games #3. Mockingjay. (reread)

James Ellroy: White Jazz [org. title: White Jazz]

Andreas Ruch: Die Drei ??? und der schwarze Fluch

Akwaeke Emezi: You made a Fool of Death with your Beauty (reread)

Ernst Jandl: Laut und Luise

Ben Aaronovitch: Eine Nachtigall in New York. Eine Thomas-Nightingale-Story [org. title: The Masquerades of Spring]

Audre Lorde: Coal

Suzanne Collins: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. A Hunger Games Novel.

Jan Wagner: Die Eulenhasser in den Hallenhäusern. Drei Verborgene. Gedichte.

John Steinbeck: Of Mice and Men

Christoph Hein: Verwirrnis

Audre Lorde: The Black Unicorn. Poems.

Megan Stine, H. William Stine: Die Drei ??? und der giftige Gockel [org. title: Murder to Go]

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin. Der Zahn des Tigers. Die drei Verbrechen des Arsène Lupin. [org. title: Les Dents du tigre]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #7. The Vile Village.

Elisabeth Steinkellner: Papierklavier

Jiří Weil: Moskau – Die Grenze [org. title: Moskva – hranice]

Philipp Ruch: Es ist 5 vor 1933. Was die AfD vorhat und wie wir sie stoppen.

Ben Aaronovitch: Die Füchse von Hampstead Heath. Eine Abigail-Kamara-Story. [org. title: What Abigail Did That Summer]

Octavia Butler: Fledgling

Historia von D. Johann Fausten [Verfasser unbekannt]

Ines Geipel: Umkämpfte Zone. Mein Bruder, der Osten und der Hass.

DNF:

Allan Ginsberg: Collected Poems 1947-1980

Eva Völler: Helle Tage, Dunkle Schuld

Natsuo Kirino: Real World [org. title: Riaru Wārudo]

[reksink]

well. regarding the hk post from yesterday. consider yourself asked :D

...Thank you for saving me...

Gotta put these in bullet points because again it's quite few!! I'll try to keep these relevant to my recent posts, but I make no promises. Someone asked me to release my bees, who am I to deny chance on such an offer

- Nymm is a Melolontha melolontha (Cockchafer. AKA my favorite beetle :})

- Miscellaneous, I make it a habit to draw Nymm and Quirrel together a lot because I really do like the idea of them being friends (or QPP's, but that's when the demons take over my body). The two are parrellels, both wore masks that were connected to their identifites, and they suffer at the absence of it. I think that'd get along with such similar connection

- Quirrel is about the equivalent of 50/60 years old in human years, however his body is similar to that of someone in their 90's

- Lemm is Woolly Chafer, art from last year of that. I'll have to draw more of him, I really like his design:

With Bretta being a Hypocephalus Armatus, she heading off in search of more would be considered a 'masculine' trait given her species. With males being the ones that normally leave home (in search of females. Perhaps Bretta is looking in the wrong department... Also that makes her Brazillan, someone remind me to draw with brazilian shirt)

Zote smells like a wine cork

Older one, but Lurien is a Scorpion Fly. As a result a major part of his diet is decaying meat, something he unfortunately can't eat too often given city taboos and the fact it's difficult to get it legally. He's rather unhealthy because of this

(ALSO I'M SO SORRY FOR EVERY WHO THOUGHT HE WAS JUST A SCORPION, THE SCORPION FLY JUST FITS MY THEMES BETTER. I do keep that in the back of my pocket though...It makes the connection he has with Herrah I indulge in much more interesting. And evil, but don't worry about that part. Perhaps I shall draw it one day)

Lurien also has acute arthritis, which he does help with how much he overworks on his architeture. Another reason what he created The Watcher Kinghts as he did

He's also workout buddies with Herrah, and he's been able to lift her mutiple times

(She's shocked and flattered by this)

Sly has had 3 of 4 of his arm sliced off his body at least once. This has no reason, I just like cutting his arms off

(Okay I lied there is a reason, it's because of his time of a Nail Sage and him training his sons)

Elderbug and Millibelle are the same species (OR, at least same genus)

Wyrms are Higher Being parasites. I have more to this but for now just know the 'rebirth' in Wyrms is evolutionary trait used to copy the form of their host and take their place after emerging from their carcass. How they emerge mimicks how the High Being would if it was natural. Example: The Radiance is linked to moths, so it's look like She made another coccon to grow again (And what would come out would be a Wyrm that 'rebirth' itself to look like Her)

Hornet (I think about her too much...)

My interputation of Ghost used the Glowing Womb once, saw its 'child' die, and had a break out. I wrote a whole fanfic about this

Joni had a strong connection with the moths after the fall of The Radiance. With no Radiance and with many moths being mouthless, injecting lifeblood was the only way to have proper nutrients for many. Being taboo under Hallownest's rule, Joni's kindness in giving lifeblood to those who need it what cherished thing among the mouthless. These moths were the ones to write her legends and help with her shrine after her death

Vespa enjoys soft things 💚

[springcatalyst]

i reached 150 pages eveybody clap for meeeeee

[hackfurs]

sorry art has been slow ive just been so unbelievably tired and unmotivated recently. i think powering through 90 commissions in the past couple months has really drained me. i haven't been playing the games i want to play or watching the stuff i wanted to watch during that whole time and now there's nothing i want to do more than turn on a video game and disappear for 8 hours..