#my lecturers said the time most people want to quit is on their final year because of their fyp

[harknessxo]

Professor Harkness

Paring: Darkish!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Agatha is a very attractive but strict Professor in your College. You somehow manage to keep up with her without seducing her like many students tried but failed to, which makes her take an interest in you.

Warnings; spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, professor kink?

Word Count: 3.5k

A/n: Haven’t posted in quite a bit, my bad!!! This is lowkey ass but I hope you like it!

This was your first year of college. You lived in Eastview most of your life but chose to go to Westview college when you got a full ride scholarship. It was scary at first, moving away from home, away from your parents but you got a new start.

As you got comfortable in your new environment, you had asked around about your teachers to know what to expect from them and everyone told you they were chill except for one, Professor Harkness. Many of the people you asked said she was a bitch, was way too strict, acted like she had a stick up her ass but “at least she was hot.” ‘Lucky me,’ you thought. You later figured out you had her once a week on Wednesdays. At least you only had to deal with her one day a week.

Your first day soon approached, your teachers all seemed very easygoing and understanding which only made you more nervous to meet the infamous Professor Harkness. Wednesday rolled around and you woke up nice and early to get ready. You wanted to make a good first impression, well, at least attempt to.

You were the first student to show up to the lecture hall. You took a seat at the very front, you liked to be able to hear everything your teachers said. After about five minutes, more students strolled in, filling up all the seats and finally, in all her glory, she walked in last. They weren’t lying when they said she was hot.

She walked to the front of the room, carrying a stack of papers and a bag. She placed the stack on the podium and began to set up for class. She didn’t bother addressing the class until the bell rang.

“Good morning everyone. I’m Professor Harkness and you will address me as such, no ‘Miss’ or ‘Mrs,’” she picked up the stack she had previously placed on her desk and started passing the papers out, “This is my syllabus. My email and office hours and at the top, if you have any questions, competent questions I mean, feel free to reach out. The first section talks about my deadlines-“ she was suddenly interrupted by a tardy student knocking on the door.

Her expression turned from somewhat welcoming to anger in seconds. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly frustrated by the tardy student, then opened the door.

“Don’t bother coming back to this class.” She stated in a cold tone before shutting the door on the student’s face. She continued on going over her rules and expectations, which were extremely high but nothing you couldn’t handle, like nothing happened.

This was going to be fun.

As the weeks went on, less and less people remained in her class either because they couldn’t handle it or they got kicked out. Many tried to seduce their way to an A but Professor Harkness was not having any of it. You found it embarrassing how the boys tried to flirt with her, sometimes even girls.

She dealt with the various attempts made to seduce her in the most professional ways, or unprofessional too, she didn’t seem to care. She would ignore their comments or straight up insult them, she had no time to deal with idiots.

You found it hot. You might have thought about her treating you just like that once or twice while getting yourself off, but of course you would never admit it or tell anyone. You were too scared to approach her anyway. She would most likely report you if she ever heard that you found her strict and harsh ways “hot”.

She didn’t seem to notice your presence much until she started noticing the efforts you put into her class. She couldn’t remember the last time any of her students were competent enough to reach the bare minimum of her expectations. She was not one to have a soft spot for students yet she found herself paying more attention to you in particular, she found it amusing how serious you were about her class.

You didn’t seem to notice her attraction at all. You didn’t notice the hungry looks or the way she would speak just a bit softer towards you if you raised your hand in class. Well, you did but you thought you were imagining things or that she was just in a good mood. You never actually approached her one on one. You thought she was very intimidating plus you always understood her material and never had to approach her. That was until now.

She had assigned a project and you couldn’t seem to understand a specific part of it so when the class was over and everyone strolled out, you stayed behind.

“Professor Harkness?” You called out nervously. She looked up from her papers and saw you still sitting in the classroom, the rest of the students were gone.

“Ah, Y/n.” She spoke your name, which honestly kinda surprised you. She set down her pen and stood up from her desk, walking over to you and leaned against the edge of the desk.

“You need something?”

“Y-yeah. I don’t mean to be annoying, I know you said if we had any questions, to reach you through email or visit you during office hours but I promise this is quick.” You rambled on, hoping she wouldn’t curse you out like she did other students. To your surprise, she simply nodded for you to go on.

“I can’t seem to understand this part of the project,” you pointed to a specific part of the rubric she gave out, “Could you explain further please?” She leaned over your desk to look at the rubric, her body hovering over yours. She studied the part you were pointing at, taking note of your struggle.

“Ah, I see. That part can be a bit tricky for some,” she proceeded to explain the section in more depth, her eyes scanning your features as you took in her every word. She made sure you were understanding every word she said, her gaze never leaving your face as she watched your expressions. It was almost addicting how attentive you were.

“Oh okay. That makes so much more sense now, thank you Professor Harkness. I hope it wasn’t a bother.” She smirked at your response, amused by how polite you were.

“It’s no bother at all, Y/n.” She said, straightening up and leaning against the desk again.

“But, since you’re still here…” she turned to a stack of archives on her desk, “Would you be a sweetheart and help me take these to my office?”

“Of course!” you agreed immediately. You took half of the stack while she took the other half and led you to her office. The office was spacious and organized. She had shelves full of books, papers and other things. A large desk was displayed in the middle of the room, along with a comfortable looking couch against the wall and a chair across from it. She gestured to the chair as she set her half of the archives down on her desk.

“Set those down here, please.” You carefully placed the stack on her desk. She walked over to her chair and sat down, watching you set the archives down with a satisfied smile.

“Is there anything else you need, professor?” You asked, sweetly.

“No, that’s all for now. But I have a question for you, Y/n.”

“What is it?” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours as she studied your expression.

“You’re one of my best students, if not the best. You’re not like the other idiots who just show up to class and fail every test. You actually care about the material, don’t you?”

“Mhm…” you hummed in response, trying to figure out what she was getting at. She chuckled softly, crossing her legs.

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me then, would you?”

“O-of course not.” She smirked at your stutter, finding it adorable how nervous you seemed.

“Good. You may go now. Have a good day, hon.” Your cheeks flushed at the pet name.

“H-have a good day, professor.” She watched as you left her office, a smirk still on her face. She couldn’t help but think about how cute you were when you blushed like that.

—

As the semester went on, Agatha tested you. She would give you material that was harder than the rest to see how you would do and you always came out on top. Rarely did you ever ask for help, nine times out of ten you could handle yourself. She was proud of you but she felt the need to punish you for something. To make you submit to her in a way, so when midterms began and you took her exam, she failed you on purpose.

When you got your grade back, you were stunned. You had studied your ass off night after night to prepare for it and you still somehow failed. This could potentially jeopardize your scholarship and not only that but you let down Agatha. You desperately needed her approval for some reason and you knew she would most likely not give you a chance to retake it but you chose to test your luck.

“Professor Harkness?” You said meekly as you strode into her office. It was six in the afternoon so mostly everyone had already gone home except for her apparently even though it was way past her office hours. She looked up from her desk, a small smirk on her face when she saw you. It was like she was expecting you.

“Yes, Y/n? Come in, close the door behind you.” You did as she asked.

“I um…I wanted to talk about my test score. I know you’re not one to give second chances but I really need to retake it. I studied so hard for it and this could put my scholarship at risk.” You pleaded with her. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms and looking at you with a cold expression.

“I was so disappointed when I graded your test, Y/n,” she stood up from her chair and walked around to the other side of the desk where you were, “But the fact is that you failed. I can’t just give you a second chance. It’s unfair to the other students who work just as hard as you.” Her words hurt you to your core. You let your favorite teacher down and now she was disappointed in you.

“Please, professor! I’ll do anything! I want to make you proud again.” You pleaded, desperately needing her approval. She stepped closer to you, standing in front of you now. She tilted your chin up with her fingers, making you look at her.

“Anything, huh?”

“Y-yes…” She smirked again, looking into your eyes and noticing the desperation in them. She could see how much you needed her approval, it was like you were addicted to it.

“I think there’s a way you can make it up to me…”

“Tell me…please?” You leaned further into her touch. She chuckled at your eagerness, running her thumb across your lower lip as she looked down at you.

“It’s going to be quite the task, darling. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Anything just- please? I’ll be a good girl.” You almost sobbed. She shushed you, pulling you closer by your chin.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re already such a good girl. So eager to please…I can’t wait to see how well you can do this for me.” She pressed her lips against yours and you let her. You let her take control and so as she pleased.

She explored every inch of your mouth and moved her hand to grip at the nape of your neck. She roughly pulled your head back with a grin plastered on her face. In one quick motion, she manhandled you to bend over her desk. A pathetic moan left your lips when she did so.

She chuckled darkly at the sound, enjoying the way you bent over for her. She pushed everything off her desk with one arm, making a loud thud as it all fell to the floor.

“You want to be a good girl for me don’t you?” you nodded your head, “Then you will take this punishment for me and if you do good, I will change your grade on your test, is that a deal?”

“D-deal.” She smirked and moved her hand from your neck to your back, gently running her hand down your spine. She then pulled your hips back, pressing them against her.

“Good girl…” She lifted the hem of the skirt you were wearing and admired the lacy purple panties you had chosen to wear. Her eyes darkened as she ran her fingers over the lace.

Sometimes, when you would start daydreaming in class while staring at her beauty, you noticed she would always wear something purple. You guessed it was her favorite color and therefore wore purple panties. Of course, you didn’t expect for things to turn out this way but good thing you did.

She was quite pleased with your choice. It was almost like you were a perfect little doll for her, a toy to play with and do as she pleased. She knew you would submit to her easily and it was going to be so much fun breaking you in.

“Look at you, already being a tease for me even before I’ve begun. You look so pretty in my color, honey.” You blushed at her compliment and gasped when she started sliding the fabric off until it reached your ankles, leaving you completely bare before her.

She ran her hands up your bare thighs and ass, her touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. She admired the way your body reacted to her every touch, she loved how easily she could rile you up.

“I’m going to give you ten spankings and you’re going to take them like a good girl, right?”

“Yes, professor…” you whimpered. She hummed in approval, her hands still roaming your thighs. She leaned down and whispered in your ear, her breath hot against your skin.

“Stay nice and still for me. If you move too much, I’ll have to punish you even more. Understood?”

“Understood.” She smiled at your obedience and straightened up. She raised her hand and brought it down on your right cheek, leaving a red handprint behind.

“Count them for me, darling.”

“One…” She hummed again, satisfied with your response. She continued her onslaught of smacks, each one harder than the last. By the time she reached ten, your skin was red and sensitive, stinging from her touch. Tears had managed to escape your eyes and your breathing was ragged.

She rubbed her hands over your stinging cheeks, admiring her handiwork. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lower back, her lips gently brushing against your skin.

“You did so well, darling. You took your punishment so well for me…such a good girl.”

“T-thank you, professor…” you sniffled. She smiled against your skin, her hands still rubbing soothing circles into your flesh.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. Maybe I should reward you…” You felt your own arousal pool down your thighs at the thought of what kind of reward she meant.

“A r-reward?” She chuckled as she noticed the way you were reacting, noticing the way you got wet at the mere thought of a reward.

“Mhm…you look like you really want one, honey.”

“P-please? I’ve been so good!”

“I know you have, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good little toy for me…” She hummed in agreement, her hands slowly moving from your ass to your folds, dipping her fingers in your wetness. You shuddered at her touch, moaning as she spread your juices all over your lips. She smirked at the sound of your moans, enjoying the way your body reacted to her every touch. She circled your clit with her thumb, teasing you as she spoke.

“Look at you, so desperate and needy. You really do want a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I need it!” She chuckled darkly, continuing to toy with your sensitive bundle of nerves as she spoke. She leaned closer to your ear, her voice a low whisper.

“Yeah? You need it? You need your professor to fuck you senseless?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Her smirk widened at your desperate pleas.

“Such a good girl…” She removed her hand from your cunt, bringing it up to your lips.

“Open your mouth.” You opened your mouth almost immediately, allowing her to slide her arousal coated fingers inside. She pushed her fingers into your mouth, her eyes darkening as she watched you suck on them.

“That’s it, pet. Taste yourself for me…” She pulled them out slowly, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips. She then roughly pulled your head back by your hair and crashed her lips against yours. You moaned shamelessly against her lips. She kissed you passionately, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth again as she held you in place all while tasting you as well.

“You taste sweeter than I imagined.” That made you even wetter. The fact that she’d been thinking about you as much as you made you feel warm inside.

She could tell that you were getting even more turned on by her words, and she loved it. She knew just how to push your buttons and make you squirm for her. She pulled away from the kiss, a grin on her face as she looked at you with hungry eyes.

“You’re so responsive, darling. It’s adorable.” You gasped loudly when she slipped her fingers inside you without warning, thrusting them in and out without letting you adjust. She chuckled at your reaction, enjoying the way you gasped and moaned for her. She started to pump her fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, curling them against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well. You’re so tight, sweetheart…”

“Thank- thank you!” you stuttered out, overwhelmed with pleasure. She hummed in amusement, enjoying the way you were struggling to form coherent sentences.

“Such a polite little toy…I love how easily you unravel under me…”

“Only- fuck- only for you, professor!” She smiled, her fingers continuing to move inside you at a relentless pace. She leaned down and began kissing and biting your neck, leaving marks all over your skin.

“That’s right, only for me. You belong to me, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes! I belong to you!” You panted out. She let out a low growl against your neck, her possessive nature coming out.

“Good girl…now cum for me. Cum for your professor…” her mouth soon joined her finger, sucking mercilessly at your clit, sending you over the edge. You had to bite down on your hand to withhold the loud moan that almost left your lips as you came. Mostly everyone was gone but there were still janitors and such. You didn’t want to get caught.

She kept her mouth on you, helping you ride out your orgasm. She smirked against your skin, amused by your attempts to be quiet.

“Oh, pet…you’re trying so hard to be quiet, but I can see how much you’re struggling.”

“It felt so- so good…” you muttered, tiredly. She pulled her fingers out of you and licked them clean, looking at you with a satisfied expression.

“I know, hon. You did so well for me…” she reached down and pulled your panties back up. She gently patted your thigh once your panties were back in place, her eyes raking over your body with a possessive gleam.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up. We can’t have you walking around with cum on your thighs, can we?”

“Mhmm…” you hummed, too fucked out to form real words. She chuckled and picked you up, carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom in her office.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this, all dazed and fucked out.” She placed you on the sink countertop and used a wet cloth to wipe down your inner thighs. She was gentle as she cleaned you up, making sure to remove any evidence of your encounter. She smirked as she looked at your face, noticing how you were still coming down from your high.

“There we go, all clean and presentable again.”

“Are you changing my test grade?” You asked shyly. She chuckled and shook her head, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at her.

“Well, of course. We made a deal and you even got a reward out of it. Now, run along. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression.”

“Yes, ma’am.” you hopped off the counter and almost ran out of her office. Did that really just happen? Did you let your professor fuck you senseless? God, you were a mess.

She watched you leave, a satisfied smirk on her face. She chuckled to herself as she sat down at her desk, picking up a pen and grading papers as if nothing had happened.

“See you in class, pet.”

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @mgruiz @daenerys713

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.

+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader

+ word count: 2.7k

+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy. [pls let me know if i missed anything!]

HC | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)

You were tired, very tired.

Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.

Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.

With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.

Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?

What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.

All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.

Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.

Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.

“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.

What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?

And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.

With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.

Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.

“Is there something on my face, birdy?”

You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”

Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.

Oh.

It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...

"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?

As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”

"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.

"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."

Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.

"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.

"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.

"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.

Which it did.

Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.

“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.

“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.

“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!

One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.

He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?

“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.

"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.

"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.

"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.

Or so you thought?

Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.

Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.

"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.

Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.

You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.

Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.

You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?

Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.

[...]

While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.

"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.

"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"

He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?

"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?

His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.

"It's none of your business so stay out of it."

"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.

"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.

"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.

Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.

He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.

Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.

"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.

"Sorry, were you busy with him?"

You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.

Directions? Did she really...?

As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.

The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...

[Part Two: II]

[neuroticbookworm]

Another Thai BL, another Asian parent-child conflict that enrages the audience and yet, is extremely nuanced. I’m gonna try and speak on it as an Asian kid who grew up in the East, but currently lives in the West, carrying complicated feelings on the Asian parenting I received.

I’m seeing a good discourse in the tags from @lurkingshan, @respectthepetty, @bengiyo, @heretherebedork and @williamrikers, among others, on the hypocrisy of a dad who hit his son in anger and is now lecturing him on the importance of controlling one’s actions when angry. I agree with everyone that the dad is being a hypocritical piece of shit. But I do not think that this is a failure in the writing of the show. Quite the opposite, actually. Because of how Ten responds and acts in the face of this hypocrisy.

Ten comes across as belligerent and confrontational in every interaction he has had with his dad, but it is never uncalled for, and he never seeks it out himself. He tries to stay out of his dad and his stepmom/his dad’s girlfriend’s way as much as possible, and only responds in a defensive manner when provoked. And in today’s episode, he even kept himself open enough in the conversation with his dad, despite his anger, to concede and accept a very good point when raised. Ten understands his dad’s hypocrisy but refuses to stoop to the same level of pettiness because he knows being a good partner and a good friend is more important than being right. This is a mark of excellent writing, in my opinion. The main character is fiercely loyal to his partner and his friends and does not let his baggage with his dad cloud his course of action.

I also see calls for an apology from the dad already brewing in the fandom. And I understand the instinct to want that. It is always so satisfying when mistreated children finally get the apology that’s been long overdue. But it’s rarely this simple in an Asian household. Times are changing faster than most people can in a lifetime, and there are systemic, cultural flaws in how an Asian society understands and teaches parenting. And if we factor in the social, economic, religious lines that heavily influence how an Asian person forms their social circle, it would’ve left these parents with little to no peers who can tell them what they’re doing is wrong. Parents striking their kids is clearly considered evil nowadays, but only a few years ago, it would’ve been a perfectly acceptable response to control a bratty child, on and off screen (and it still is in some Asian cultures).

Now, NONE of what I said above is an excuse to write off the behavior of Ten’s dad as acceptable, just because it’s very Asian. As an Asian who grew up in the East, the demand for an apology does not particularly resonate with me, because Ten and his dad both know that their problems are not gonna go away as soon as Ten’s dad apologizes. Because:

If Ten starts demanding an apology for every shitty thing his dad has ever done, where should he stop? Should he demand an apology for the time his dad probably struck him as a kid when he was trying to get him to memorize multiplication tables, as is wont of every Asian parent ever (it is such an ubiquitous experience to Asian kids everywhere that there are reels with millions of views on IG, referencing this experience. Does this mean every Asian parent is evil and must be put on trial by their kids? Holy moly, think of all the money therapists would make if every Asian kid in the world decided to call out their parents on their shit. Entire economies would crumble to dust from the sudden disruption in cashflow.)

Is an apology going to comfort Ten? Asian parenting warps the sense of self of both the parents and the kids, because of the levels of abject sacrifice involved in it. It is extremely possible that Ten’s dad had worked day and night to provide well for his family, for his son, before Ten’s mom fell ill. It’s the same choice he made for his wife, but in this case, it paid off, because now Ten is financially well taken care of, and he is privileged enough to pursue a career in medicine. If Ten demands an apology from his dad for not being there when his mom was dying, do we know for sure that when he gets that apology, his mind won’t conflate the sacrifices his dad made for him, thus making him feel guilty for forcing someone who clearly cared about him enough to work hard for him, into defeat (look at this rich soup of Asian parenting misery, yum yum yum. I know it’s delicious because I’m paying my therapist weekly to make the broth less spicy).

The dialogue in the show whenever Ten’s mom is brought up and discussed is always very carefully worded:

Not “because you did not act”, but “because you took so long to act”. Looks like Ten’s dad made a choice that ultimately did not pay off. He cared, and he wanted to do something to save his wife, but whatever he chose to do ultimately did not help. And now she is dead and he has managed to not help and comfort his wife in her final days AND unwittingly traumatize his son with his absence. The show has painted this storyline with enough nuance that I don’t believe we are meant to read Ten’s dad as a simple villain, but rather a father who does care but has made some serious mistakes. This situation is so emotionally complicated and realistically, it’s gonna take years for both of them to find a middle ground. Ten is gonna have to grow up and make a few mistakes of his own in life to develop proper empathy for his dad, and that’s gonna put a couple things into perspective for him (I’m not saying Ten is bound to make mistakes because he is bad. He is going to because shit happens in life and human beings always do better in hindsight than in the moment). And the dad is gonna have to grow old and let his aging body humble him a little and shrink his ego enough to see that he had failed his son by not being emotionally available to deal with their trauma, together.

I’ve been watching Kim’s Convenience, a Canadian sitcom that follows a Korean-Canadian family and their shenanigans. I’m only on S04E02, but there is a father-son conflict at the centre of this show that is still not directly addressed by both the dad and the son. It’s been years (almost a decade, I think) since the son has been driven out of his home by his dad for a dumb mistake he made as a teen. And the way the show works on it is so infuriating, because it is so Asian. It is rarely addressed aloud in the presence of the dad or the son, lest it leads to anger and screaming and storming off. The path to reconciliation is built with mom calling her son for help to fix something in their home because his dad is too stubborn to ask for it. With the son visiting the hospital when the dad had to undergo surgery, and having their first real conversation in years which the dad forgets after waking up from the influence of pain drugs. With the daughter’s old phone passed down to the dad with her brother’s number on it, which leads to them texting each other. It is all extra frustrating for me because I’m extremely straightforward in my conversations with my parents. I do not like ambiguous endings to verbal conflicts because they are a ticking time bomb and I do not have the capacity to forget its existence and let it tick away in the background. But, I understand it when my friends, and Asian characters in TV shows, don’t want to force things out in the open if it can be swept under the rug for the time being, because peace of mind in Asian households is fleeting and you would be wise to take what you get.

Good TV shows can best serve their audience when they serve their characters, and stay true to the experiences of the people they are trying to represent. My teen ass was regularly shocked, appalled and intrigued by the sexual liberation promised by Western media I consumed while I was in school and college. I was surrounded by a sexually repressed society that was convinced that the only moral way to enjoy pleasure was after marriage with your partner. And very predictably, this means a lot of dead bedrooms, unhappy marriages and kids growing up with no real understanding of what romantic love looks like. I would’ve never had the courage to move my entire life to the West, if the Western media I watched had not represented its people in all their messy, horny glory, albeit with a rose-tinted lens on gender, race and sexuality.

Some Asian parents in media need to fall at the feet of their children and apologize. I remember being absolutely fucking enraged while @lurkingshan and I watched Double Savage at the behest of our friend @waitmyturtles, and in the finale, Korn was the one who fell at the feet of his absolute piece of shit of a dad to apologize for FUCKING NOTHING. And after Shan and I were done surviving that show, I remember telling my friends that most Asian media does not have strong writing whenever Asian children need to defy their shitty parents and come to terms with their destructive parenting, because chances are, most Asian creators would not have successfully done it. Hence, intergenerational trauma (gasp! It’s all connected!).

So. I would never demand to see Ten’s dad apologize to him to consider Cooking Crush a successful show, because that is not the cultural context this story operates in. Would I enjoy it if he does? Hell yes. Would I be mad if he does not? No, because Ten is proving him wrong time and again, and that’s a constant reminder from the narrative of who is in the right.

[aizawashuichi]

Mazzaroth!! :3

oh, mazzaroth, my monster baby <3

i have already published like 29 chapters, i sometimes talk about it on here [#mazzaroth] and you can find some info about the MC here

it's wammy's fic during L's time there. it's very niche in every way you can think of - oc-centric, 1st person pov, half diary-half narration, very character-driven and so on. you must have my same reading preferences to like it, in my opinion, which is difficult. also, i am very slow at updating it and now it's also on hiatus, so the writing is... not going great.

the first part is set between 1988 and 1991. it's supposed to be around 200 chapters (insane), and it's more about exploring the wammy's house as i see it (which seems to be quite different from the interpretation of most of the fandom), seeing L interact with other people and lay the groundwork for the second and third part, so the reader is on Ethe's side and then switches and then doesn't know how to feel, because you'll end up piting her but she is not a good person (she is 🎀just a girl🎀 to me, but... she is not going to heaven, if we want to use some christianity reference. not even if she repents).

it's from the point of view of the MC, because I didn't want to follow L and showcase exactly what he thinks. also i am a sucker for first person, so it is easier for me to write. besides, since it's character driven, i am exploring ethe's descend into madness aka how conduct disorder can be exacerbated if there isn't the appropriate support system. the wammy's itself is not physically abusive, but there are instances of violence between the kids and neglect, so it's not peaches and roses, but i am also trying not to villainize it since in the end, it is also a safe place for the kids and they have their own attachement to it, especially if they come from problematic backgrounds like the one Ethe comes from. last thing, the writing is convoluted and more mature, even in how these kids interact or Ethe writes her diary, because of future things that will be revealed, but one thing i can say is that the "mazzaroth series" part of summary (pasted below) points out why it is like that.

the second part is only about the year 1993. 14 chapters in total. i have not written a single word but i know it has to be 14.

the third part is about catching up with L and the OCs as adults, basically to witness their downfall.

overall, it's canon complaint. so it's more about filling in the gaps of L's life, rather than rewriting his future. it serves also to explain some of his traits, in a way, through the lens of trauma, yeah.

this is the summary:

PART ONE OF THREE: YEARS 1988 - 1991 L said that if he were to encounter lying monsters, he would likely be eaten by them, and I suppose I was starving when I first met him. MAZZAROTH SERIES: You realise the impact of something's presence in your life only when it's gone. As you relive those memories that you can't change, you find yourself at a crossroad: either leave them in the past or use them as a fuel to destroy the cause of why things ended up in some way.

and i don't know what else to say, so i am going to share something from a chapter (2nd december 1988) i have yet to publish lmao

a bit of context: Ethe hates L. She hates being around L, talking to him, seeing him - everything about him. She just can't stand him. She will only talk if she can insult him or gain something from him. She doesn't answer his questions and if she does, that means she is lying. Here, Rae is her friend and called her a hypocrite for something and is now giving her the silent treatment.

“Ethelinda, I've been looking for you,” he said, approaching me. “Ayla said she finally found another ladybug and that I should call you.” I nodded, although being subjected to another lecture in which Ayla was trying to make me like bugs was the second-to-last thing I wanted to do that day. The last was to have a conversation with L. Confronted with my long silence, the anti-justice, with a slightly puzzled expression on his face, decided to walk past me toward the exit. “Do you think my behavior is hypocritical?” I asked him in one breath, and L stopped. It was humiliating to have to ask his opinion; therefore, I did not even turn to look at him. I had been reduced to that and had the impulse to leave the library, without waiting for that answer I so sought from someone. “Do you care about my opinion?” “No. It's simply because you don't care about my feelings,” I replied, still giving him my back. “You will tell me the truth, in short.” “I wouldn't put it that way, but… All right.” He took a pause to think. “I'm biased, on your side, but your behavior is hypocritical.” Was it really? Hearing L say it led me to think it wasn't at all, because what did he know about how I behaved and why Rae had said it? Nothing. Maybe she wasn't referring to the aliases, but to something else that happened before he arrived at Wammy's that he didn't know about. It complicated the issue, because I would have had to go backwards and evaluate each of our misunderstandings. “Do you think she has no reason to feel that way?” he asked. Was he really starting to ask me questions to better understand my demeanor? I sighed and turned to look at him. He was a few steps away from me, turned with his body toward the rest of the library and only with his face toward me. “If that's the case, then, it's hypocritical because you got upset about the aliases,” he continued in front of my silence and repeated the concept, as if I hadn't understood it the first time. “You only managed to fix it because I left, didn't you?” His question made me realize that we had not actually talked about the aliases. Ayla had implicitly included them in her promise, but Rae had not said a word, and it was L's fault, too, because he had made me believe that they were no longer relevant and had stopped using them once he came back, which meant that it had only been a test, which had probably shown a lot about my person and had given him a great advantage. I didn't say anything. It was already enough having to appeal to his perspective, and I wanted him to understand that it had been just that and nothing more. I didn't need a lecture from him, because he was also the worst person to give me one. “Why do you have a bruise here?” He pointed to his back, at the base of his neck. “I fell and hit the countertop while trying to arrange some books,” I automatically repeated the explanation I had given the nurse and Roger when he had been called, since Watari was not around, and, only when I finished, did I realize what I had done. We stood in silence looking at each other. Telling him to let it go would not disuse him from understanding why I had. Threatening him in letting it go would only have instigated him to search. I preferred, therefore, not to let out a single word and wait for him to walk away, which lasted longer than I imagined and made the situation even more unbearable. I only hoped that he would not decide to really play the husband's part.

i won't explain the husband and bruise stuff because it is actually an important part lol

[neurodivergentbraingoblins]

Story time about how being "inclusive" is often used as pretty jewlery to make workplaces seem less shitty than they are.

So I used to work for a place that did workers compensation claims. I was a data entry worker - essentially my job was to processes all incoming and outgoing documents and make sure they digitally got attached to the correct claim so other people could do their job.

I had been working at this place for about 6 months, and we had a MASSIVE turnover in people. Like over half my team/coworkers quit. Well, I just happened to be really, really good at data entry work. My pattern recognition skills and OCD compulsions were a perfect fit for this job. Even management constantly would say how impressed they were with the amount of work I could get done.

Here's the problem - the 2 other people who didn't quit during the turnover were my superiors. They had problems with the way I communicate (AuDHD). So instead of dealing with it, they openly harassed me in group chats. Our boss would see the chats and then call them out on it and tell them to stop.

Fast forward a few months later. Shit is getting crazy for our company as we were expanding. I'm getting harassed constantly by all my "teammates" and from higher ups. I go to HR about the concern and they decide to have me just directly report to our boss. But the problem wasn't solved. I still had to work with and ask questions to the team who obviously hated me. Simply because I communicate and work differently than I do. I was always willing to help them get caught up on work, but never the other way around.

So I've been at this place for about a year now and I'm testing a brand new method of cataloging data to the correct files. (Example- adding medical records for a specific person to their specific digital file so the adjuster assigned to the claim can review it). Turns out something broke with the process and over 700 files were lost.

So I get pulled into a very sudden meeting with me, the 2 teammembers who were my superiors and my boss. They are freaking out trying to figure out how to fix this. When I could finally get a chance to speak I told them I had backups of most of the files. They all went silent and just stared at me.

I explained that the way the process worked gave me anxiety because of this very potential issue. Once the files were uploaded to the claims, they were deleted from the storage location. Gone permanently. I didnt want to be the one responsible for losing important documents if something when wrong, so as a precaution (and a newly developed OCD compulsion) I would save most files to a different folder as a backup (usually just the files I had to convert from one format (ex: word doc) to a PDF).

Turns out I ended up saving the company thousands of dollars and thousands of work hours. My boss literally said to my face "your OCD saved the day! You're a hero!". The very next day everyone was back to being upset at me for how I did my job 😅

Well, over the course of my year there, management put together a COMPANY WIDE MANDATORY meeting about inclusivity and anti-discrimination. Of course I attended and I was having to hold back tears and laughter as everyone made all these promises to not judge people and to be open to "other working styles". The meeting was a 5 hour long meeting with different games and activities. You could tell the company execs were so proud of themselves for the meeting.

The very next day I received the perfect example of what NOT to do from my own boss who helped lead the company meeting! Essentially she heard a rumor that I was setting up meetings with other departments to work on things that hadn't been approved through the proper channels. She pulled me into a virtual meeting and, I kid you not, lectured me for 5 minutes straight about how that wasn't allowed. When I finally got a chance to speak I calmly told her I'd never done anything like that before. I admitted that occasionally I would ask someone else questions in a random email here or there when it related to what we were talking about. But I had never done any of the things she just accused me of and lectured me about. She was "assuming the worst and the negative instead of something positive" which was one of the core values we had spent almost an hour on at the meeting the day before.

I immediately went to HR crying. What was the point of that ridiculous mandatory meeting if the company superiors were still going to discriminate against me??? Well after a year of putting in hard work for them, fighting against all the harassment they threw at me, and doing my best to advocate for myself I ended up quiting. It was an amazing paying full time (40hr) job that fit my skills perfectly. But I had to quit because I couldn't stand listening to them say "we love your OCD and it really helps the company, but you need to stop doing things that way. It is really annoying and takes too long. Plus your coworkers don't like it. But keep giving us those same results! You really are our best worker!"

My OCD was turned into a joke. Something that was only okay when it benefitted them, but a disgusting trait to hide away when it didn't.

Tldr: I gave a year of my life to a company that outwardly toted being "inclusive" while simultaneously being harassed for my OCD and AuDHD symptoms. All while being told my "OCD saves the company money but like, can you please stop doing things that way? Thanks!"

[jeannereames]

Do you see memes and shitposts about Alexander and his time? If yes, do you like them, you hate them? Would you change something about these memes?

I’m sorry. I’m just really curious about what a professor thinks about this. Do you perhaps have a favorite Alexander meme?

Well, for me there’s a big difference between memes and shitposts. The former can be rather entertaining, the latter are just trolling. Don’t feed the trolls. I realize I’m perhaps defining shitposting more narrowly than some, but there’s enough of the narrow sort out there I don’t want to confuse it with memes.

Meme are great. I have two favorites, although not about Alexander, ironically. I’ve shared them below. Both show up in my class Power-points, btw! Many of my colleagues also enjoy clever memes. My buddy Borja Antela was trying to collect some on Alexander last year. For a while, I followed Alexandergoatmemes on Instagram, but finally left because about 85/90% of them seemed to be about Alexander naming cities after himself. Sure, it’s funny maybe the first 20 times, but at 100+?

So memes are great. Shitposting and ignorant-posting, however, are annoying.

I’m deliberately creating that third category. Shitposters know they’re posting shit; ignorant-posters (usually) don’t. The latter put up videos, tweets, or blog entries about (in this case) Alexander that perpetuate a lie, a false quote, or an oversimplified-and-mostly-wrong factoid. Some ignorant-posters are just reposting what they heard because they don’t know any better and may receive correction well enough—especially if offered politely. Yet others get upset (sometimes disproportionately so) when their errors or distortions are pointed out.

This can be about controversial matters, such as Alexander’s putative “sexuality” or it can be something surprising. I once had a fellow fly off the handle when he posted that Alexander was left-handed and I (gently) corrected him.* You’d have thought I’d called his mother a whore. It seemed quite silly…except that left-handedness used to be considered a Very Bad Thing. So being able to claim famous people as lefties was apparently more for him than just leftie pride.

Aside from oddities, most of the ignorant-posting I’ve seen comes in three main types.

First, we have the religious/spiritual/life-coach sorts who usurp Alexander for a moral lesson—not unlike the orators of the (Roman-era) Second Sophistic, or both Muslims and Christians in some of the Alexander Romances. Alexander has ALWAYS been a malleable figure for lecturing. Ergo, he pops up in homilies/sermons as a parable, like his supposed Last Three Wishes. It is, of course, total bullshit, but there’s quite a lot of stuff like it out there. People read it, go “Aww,” and reblog without bothering to check if it’s correct. It has “the authority of hearsay.” These can be either Alexander-positive or Alexander-negative parables, btw.

See also: quotes attributed to famous celebrities that they never, in fact, said. Alexander gets these too. The ¡Inspirational! “Army of Sheep Led by a Lion” is especially egregious, as it’s a general proverb that appeared well after Alexander (no, he didn’t say it). It seems to be currently popular, along with, “There is nothing impossible to him who will try” (also not ATG). Yet these make great quotes for those damn “Inspirational Posters.” Here’s a whole page of them, lion quote right at the top, suitable for a Power-point!...with no attempt to verify their authenticity or say where they got them. But the image with the quote below is especially funny as they even put a date on their fictional quote. If it has a date, it must be true! Netflix, btw, used that bloody quote even though I told them not to; it was fake. Didn’t matter.

Second, we have the alt-right/white supremacist groups, or hangers-on who might reject the label (coyly or not) but embrace much of its Eurocentric thinking. These folks present Alexander as spreading good [white] Western values to the poor benighted East [brown people]. It’s essentially warmed-over Plutarch with a dash of Curtius and some Arrian. Their Alexander even sometimes has longish flowing (blond) locks and is oddly tall.** Like Thor. I stay the hell away from them but have occasionally stumbled over them on Tik-Tok.

Anyway, the alt-right crowd may have read some about Alexander, written by other alt-right guys who take material from a carefully curated set of “accepted” histories: Arrian and Plutarch, and not just Plutarch’s Life of Alexander, but his double-essay from the Moralia, “On the Fate or Fortune of Alexander.” They tend to be war/conquest-approving and see the Greco-Roman past as some pure Aryan utopia from which we’ve fallen into our “wretched age of iron.”*** Of late, a lot of their associated images are AI generated, btw. A couple examples below.

Last, and on the opposite end of the spectrum are the Alexander-was-Queer-AND-Wonderful, and oh, boy, some of them also don’t want a single bad thing said about their hero. They may know relatively little about his life aside from his putative gayness, but are just as resistant to/resentful of being corrected in their errors and romantic oversimplifications.

And that is what all of these categories share: oversimplification for the sake of a particular social and/or political agenda.****

Isn’t it, then, also shitposting? No. Because shitposters intend to stir the pot. They may or may not believe what they say, but they’re saying it TO get a reaction. Like the Tweet Heard Round the Alexander-verse after the Netflix thing (below). THAT was a shitpost. His entire goal was to go viral, and he succeeded.

By contrast, ignorant-posters usually aim for a particular audience and rarely expect to go viral outside their circle. Nor do they expect to be corrected. When they are, they react with surprise and anger. (Again, there are exceptions.)

I tend to observe these things, but rarely engage—although I did engage more when I was a young grad student. Now if I reply, it’s general (as here), not to the original post/tweet itself. TBH, I have books and articles to write, classes to teach, and papers to grade. 😉 I don’t have time for flamewars.

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

* Yes, I made Alexander left-handed in Dancing with the Lion, partly for the hell of it. But there’s zero evidence one way or the other—which I point out in my Author’s Note at the end of book 2, Rise.

** BTW, there’s a Whole Thing out there online about Alexander as tall, even Super Tall, claiming evidence which they don’t actually cite (correctly). Note the “many stories suggest….” Oh, really? These are? Anyway, I don’t think the author of that blog entry is alt-right—which is why I put it as a footnote—but dig the wacko AI white-haired Nordic Alexander at the top! And I’m still chuckling at a 7-foot-tall Alexander. Good Lord, how tall would that make Hephaistion?

*** Yeah, that’s a little bow to Hesiod’s theory of the Ages of Man.

**** Note that I didn’t include Greek Nationalists. While some of them also swing right (Golden Dawn, Front Line, National Reform Party, etc.), many are more moderate. Alexander is a Greek hero, and if what’s presented about him by some is also oversimplified to fit a national narrative, it doesn’t spring from ignorance so much as deliberate choice and what they learned in school/at home. Think about what the average (white) American knows about George Washington or Thomas Jefferson, or for that matter, the average native person about Tecumseh or Crazy Horse.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Try Again ~ A Baldur's Gate Fic (Gale/Tav)

A/N: Just a little angsty/ambiguous epilogue fic I've been working on for months. Technically it's specifically for Molvyrae, my Tempest domain cleric of Mystra, but yearning is universal. Word Count: 2773 Rating: M - mild language, some sexual content, angst A/N2: Some of the initial conversation is either directly from the in-game epilogue or modified lines from it, so credit to the Larian writers where it is due. Cross-posted to AO3

After the fall of the Elder Brain, time passed as it always had. Some might call it almost quiet, if you consider a constant labor to rebuild, days split between activity and giving comfort and nights spent falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep quiet. While her party had scattered to the four winds, Molvyrae stayed, doing her part to fix what had been broken. She was given a modest residence in the Lower City, and quickly converted most of the two story building into something of a halfway house for those seeking her medical or spiritual aid and refugees seeking things and people they have lost.

She oversaw far too many funerals in those months, but blessedly, a few weddings too, including Alfira and Lakrissa’s, finally brought on by the realization of how much they had already weathered together. She tried to be there with all her heart for her friends on that day, but regret colored her smile, remembering the adoring and wonderful man that she had given up.

Now it was a half a year later, and the sun had set by the time she strode into the campsite where it had all begun, following the mysterious invitation that had just shown up on the table which served as a humble shrine to her goddess. Her friends were all gathered already, and she was overwhelmed with the emotions overflowing in her heart: love, longing, and trepidation mingling and twisting her stomach as she drew a deep breath.

~

Molvyrae couldn’t help but hug him, before he had finished “reintroducing” himself. Her arms wrapped tightly around the wizard, and she was shocked but pleased to feel him return the gesture, pulling her close and surrounding her in the familiar scent of his soap.

“Well, that was quite lovely,” he said as they both drew away, almost reluctantly. “I’m glad you’re as pleased to see me as I am you.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, biting her lip anxiously, and trying not to notice the way his eyes flickered down at the motion. “I know I ended things rather…abruptly.”

“My heart has survived far crueller partings, and lived to tell the tale. I assure you, I meant exactly what I said to you at the time. Perfect as they are, some things aren’t meant to last forever.”

She smiled gratefully at him. “I…thank you Gale, for understanding.”

A shadow flickered across his face, deep sadness clouding his eyes for a moment, before it passed and he gestured for her to sit beside him so that they could catch up. It didn’t take long for them to fall into easy conversation, at some point Tara joining them and twining herself around Gale’s ankles before sitting to groom herself, unbothered by all the world. He told her about his new role as an educator, his aspirations of authorhood, and his students' apparent idolization of her from the stories he told them.

“It sounds like the last six months have been treating you quite well Gale,” she said, resting a hand on his knee for a moment before drawing away quickly, as if burned. “I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“I’m pleasantly surprised to say that they have, indeed. And for all my complaining, I am very fond of my students. You know, I’d be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I’m sure they’d have plenty of questions for you.”

She stared at him, surprised that he would want to do such a thing, and feeling a tiny bit ambushed by the suddenness of the suggestion. A party, in a place that felt familiar and made it easy to slip back into the old way of things, was one thing. But to spend time with Gale in a place that was entirely his domain, where he would be confident and comfortable and she would be unbalanced by more than regret…it was an intimidating prospect.

Yet, she was hardly surprised when the next words came out of her mouth. “Of course,” she smiled teasingly, “What wizard wouldn’t benefit from the wisdom my goddess has to offer?”

“Excellent, excellent, excellent. I can hardly wait. Of course, you’ll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower–” he offered eagerly, before being cut off by the tressym’s polite ‘ahem.’ “My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.”

She shot a glance at Tara, trying to see if that was in fact what Tara was protesting, or if she was far more practical than Gale regarding their proximity and the way Mol had ended their former relationship. Unfortunately, the feline expression was impossible to read, even before Tara returned to bathing herself. Mol cursed internally, left to her own devices after all and feeling like she was starting to panic.

“And I’ve a pantry full of Waterdhavian delicacies and a delightful bottle of Elverquisst with your name on them, if that sweetens the pot any?” Gale continued, and Mol smiled, hoping he didn’t notice that she had missed some of what he said.

“You don’t have to bribe me with good food, although I won’t say no. The good company is more than enough reason to say yes, if I hadn’t already,” she laughed, and he smiled in that bashful way that made her heart flip.

“I know, I know. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated or doing me a favor…”

“You’ve always been too kind, Gale. I wouldn’t agree out of mere obligation.”

“I truly do look forward to having you. It was strange, going from seeing you daily to six months on my own. I’m very curious to know what you’ve been up to these past months, but I suspect the telling of that tale would keep you tied to me all evening.”

She couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at his phrasing, choosing to focus on the accidental innuendo, over the heartbroken (and heartbreaking) admission. He coughed embarrassedly, catching it as well, before sending her off to mingle with the others, claiming he needed a moment to regather his wits because the wine had quite suddenly gone to his head. Before she went, they hugged again, a little longer this time, promising that they would discuss the details of her visit in the morning. She sighed, her head swimming, guilty that she had accidentally reopened the still healing wound she’d caused and confused by the emotional twists and turns the conversation had taken, and retreated, sitting by the lakeshore with Scratch for a while before returning to the party herself.

~

Molvyrae smiled, listening to Gale as he joyfully showed her around his tower for real this time, basking in the sense of magic and warmth that surrounded her, and the fond memories of the illusory nights spent there.

“Gale,” she eventually said, stopping him with a hand on his arm as he blushed and stumbled over apologies regarding the mess in his sitting area, and the fact that only one chair was even remotely clear of books and papers. A chair she suspected was used by Tara more often than anyone else. “Please. Even if I sat on your carpet, it would be more comfortable than some of our camp accommodations.”

He shuddered, and she wondered if he was remembering the night in the Underdark where every rock had turned out to be covered in a mysterious slime, or in the Shadowlands where far too many inconspicuous logs and tree stumps had spines and thorns lurking in their rough bark.

“I know, but that was a very different situation. Here I’m supposed to be playing host to…my dear friend, and I can’t seem to manage it properly.”

“Because you’re trying too hard. I didn’t come here to be impressed by magical artifacts or a lifetime and a half of magical tomes, or the incredible dinner you cooked for me. Although all of those are incredibly impressive,” she waved a hand and laughed lightly, cutting off the protest she could see coming. “I came because you asked me to. So please, just relax. All I need is you.”

She winced as soon as the words left her lips. She felt his shoulders drop as he sighed, and her heart sank with them. “You said that to me once before…” he spoke suddenly, voice cracking.

“I–” she braced herself for the rebuke she knew she deserved.

“You told me that you loved me for the man I was, the man I am, and that I didn’t need to become a god,” the words were wistful and soft. “But clearly, something changed.”

“Nothing changed.”

He laughed, the sound coming out in a short, bitter bark. “We both know each other too well to lie.”

“You’re right, we do. But it’s not a lie. We’re still us, and everything that entails. It just got…complicated.”

“You have no idea how much I wish that were true,” he reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear tenderly.

“Gale…” his name left her lips in a whisper, as she leaned in.

“Molvyrae,” he answered, in the same hushed, wanting tone, his eyes flicking down to her lips and back up to her face. “I–”

Whatever else he might have planned to say was lost as he threw caution to the wind and kissed her, cradling the side of her face as he did. Her noise of surprise was smothered into his mouth, and she wasted no time in kissing him back, one hand grasping his shoulder to pull him closer as his lips parted before her questing tongue. His free hand gripped gently on the flesh of her waist, fingertips pressing hard enough to be felt but not to cause pain, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her.

All too soon, they parted, both of their chests heaving for air, with no room between them for it to reach their lungs.

Gale stared at her in unabashed awe, and Mol cast her eyes desperately past him, looking for something to focus on, other than the wizard’s lovestruck, kiss-drunk expression. The air hung thick with tension, each waiting for the other to pull away, and then both moving together to do quite the opposite.

Their mouths danced against each other, tongues tangling. She barely noticed the impact as her back collided with a door, reaching behind her to claw for the knob and forcing it open, removing the last barrier between the pair of them and the bed. They stumbled, as one across the blessedly clear room, no longer creating a warpath of desperation for each other.

Gale’s long fingers burned where they ran across her ribcage, one dipping beneath the now open fabric of her shirt to reach the band of her undergarment. He nipped at her lip as she tugged on his hair, teeth scraping as she pulled away. As he fussed with the closure one handedly and the other dragged her hips closer, she trailed her kisses downward to the place where his throat met his collarbone, no longer marred by the mark of the Netherese Orb. His breathy moan made her smirk, trailing her tongue across the sensitive skin, but he was quick to get his revenge, reaching further to cup her ass and hitch her leg around his waist just as the button finally freed from the loop and the fabric hiding her breasts from him went slack.

Somewhere in the hungry stumble, they had turned, and it was the back of Gale’s knees that hit the mattress first, sending them both falling onto the plush cushion. The jolt seemed to wake something in them, and Gale’s hands released Molvyrae, pulling back as if suddenly electrocuted. The harsh motion made her sit up, still straddling his lap, but tugging awkwardly to keep her garments at least partially on.

“Mol…we have to stop,” he said as if it caused him physical pain to do so. “Before this goes any further and gets out of hand…”

The words were like an icy waterfall over her, and she nodded mutely, clambering to get off of him and stand. She turned her back, motions jerking as she refastened button after button. He stayed where he was, unable to resist watching her, and waiting for her to say something.

“I…” she choked back tears, after a long silence. “I should go. I should never have come in the first place.”

“What?” he sat up then, reaching for her and pulling back before he actually made contact.

“This was a mistake. I knew–I should have known. I’m so stupid.”

“No,” the harshness of his voice made her turn in shock. “The blame for this hardly rests on you.”

“Doesn’t it?” she couldn’t help laughing at herself, even as the tears began to fall and she turned away again.

His arms wrapped around her and she felt his face press between her shoulder blades, she tried to ignore the dampness there and the way her body trembled and the urge to press her hands against his where they rested on her sternum. She bowed her head and let herself cry, something she wasn’t sure she’d done since that fateful morning.

“The fault is mine, Molvyrae,” he sighed and she felt it pass through her entire body, before he stepped back, releasing her.

She turned to face him, wiping the tears from her eyes and watching him as he began to pace in small shapes, as he had done sometimes in camp when he was nervous. She reached out for him, but he didn’t take her hand, just continued to fret the edge of his open robe between his fingers.

“I invited you here under partially false pretenses, in the hopes that we could spend some time together again. I don’t know if I expected this, but I thought maybe we would talk about our feelings, about what happened between us, where it went wrong. And we already said we wouldn’t try to lie to each other, so I must admit, even if it was a dim thing, I did hope.”

“Yet you were also the one to put a stop to it?” She frowned in confusion, distracting herself from the itch to embrace him by starting to redo the braids along the side of her head.

“I know,” he shook his head ruefully. “Quite the contradiction, but you see, I realized that a single night of passion, no matter how much I might want and enjoy it, will never be enough.”

“Gale…” his name was a sigh, and he flinched at the sound.

“I’m sorry Molvyrae. I can’t go through the heartbreak of having you for one more night only to lose you again. So, you see, this whole debacle was my doing.”

Silence settled over them, thick with feelings, with the doubts and dreams that lingered.

“I miss you,” she said finally, words barely audible and voice shaking.

“You…do?” He stared at her, and she felt her cheeks and neck growing flushed under the intensity of his gaze.

“Of course I do. You said it best at Withers’ party. We spent everyday together, every night together. For months. And then we walked out of each other’s life…” she shrugged, folding her arms across her chest protectively.

“Why did we?”

“Because I was scared. I had too many questions and not enough answers. So I pushed you away, and you are so Good that you just let me.”

“I wanted to chase you, Mol, but you needed space. I may be a fool in many ways, but I could tell that at least.” The admission was soft, and she couldn’t help but laugh at how even now he was comforting her, after she’d ripped his heart out twice.

Take that, Mystra, she thought somewhat bitterly. Your priestess broke him more than you ever could.

“I know.”

“What if I had? Followed you, I mean.”

“I think I would have kept running, until you gave up.”

“You should know by now that I am not a man easily dissuaded, on the things that really matter.”

“I know.” She smiled ruefully. “So, where does that leave us?”

He was silent for a long moment, and she waited, breath held and unsure.

“I think,” he paused, searching for his words, “we should each get some rest, and speak on this tomorrow, when our emotions are not so fraught. Rash decisions are the ones we regret, after all.” He cradled her cheek in his palm, and pressed their foreheads together. “And I do not want to regret anything when it comes to you. Not again.”

[superlinguo]

Barb Kelly

This time last year came the sudden, unexpected news of the death of Barbara F. Kelly's. Barb Kelly was one of my undergraduate lecturers, my principle PhD supervisor, and eventually a collaborator and friend. I have mentioned Barb in passing on the blog over the years, but now we've muddled through a year without her, I finally feel like I have some space to reflect on the fact she has been one of the most important influences the course of my life.

Barb was many things to many people. She managed to do this by being deeply curious about people, and had a devastatingly compelling ability to give you her full attention when you were talking with her. She was interesting because she was interested; her friendships, hobbies and tastes were eclectic and wide-ranging. There's a really beautiful obituary from our colleague Nick Evans that captures the story of Barb's life. This is my story of how Barb shaped me as a linguist, a researcher and a person.

I first encountered Barb when she was teaching in my final year of a Bachelor of Arts. The third year subject Language and Culture was a romp through kin terms, colour theory, names, primates, spatial systems, social intelligence, politeness, and so much more. Barb was an enthusiastic lecturer, with anecdotes, contextualisation and rich examples every week.

One week she introduced us to the topic of gesture. I was intrigued! How had I made it through a whole degree without encountering this work! (now that I write courses, I know how hard it is to find space in the curriculum for every topic worthy of attention, and gesture rarely features at all in undergraduate coursework). At the end of the lecture Barb said "this is one of my favourite topics. You're not allowed to do you're final assignment on this unless you see me first, because I don't want to read a bad assignment on this topic."

I still remember when I went to talk to her about it, and experienced the full intensity of the undivided attention of Barb Kelly for the first time. At some point, mildly bewildered by all this new reading, I wondered how we even knew that people paid attention to different types of gesture. "I always thought that would be a good topic for an honours thesis," Barb mentioned, before walking me back to something more manageable for a class paper.

[A brief time jump: The last time Barb and I caught up, it was getting to the end of the year and we were trying to avoid editing a paper. Somehow we got talking about the first time we met. Barb's main recollection was: "You were so weird." Barb thought it was very funny, but I also think that being interesting to Barb Kelly was a delightful compliment.]

A couple of weeks later, I went back and asked "could... I be the person who did that paper you mentioned?" At the very end of the final semester of my degree, I threw in my plans for a fourth year of Art History. I'm not usually one to change big plans so dramatically, but I decided that I wanted to do linguistics if I got to do the kind of linguistics Barb did. Of course, many years later when we were talking about it she laughed "I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't want you to do it!"

That's how we got working on a small honours project to see what kinds of gestures and other movement people report that they pay attention to. It was an in-the-spirit replication of an old task Adam Kendon set up in the 1970s with a projector and silent film, but we used a computer and software that let people mark what they thought a gesture was (this became, many years later, Gawne & Kelly 2014). Just as I was finishing up data collection Barb disappeared. She had colorectal cancer and (although I didn't know this at the time) the prognosis was terrible.

At the end of that year I felt quite lost. I had finished the project, but didn't really know what to do next. I managed to get an office job for a while; it was fun to have a steady income after years of student life, but I got bored pretty quickly. I had planned a long nonsense holiday in Europe to distract myself. Barb had returned to work and I emailed her about catching up for coffee. I even fact-checked this in my email archive, and apparently I asked to "pick [her] brain about post-grad courses". It's easy to forget, with the benefit of hindsight, just how little idea I had of what I could do, what I should do or how I should go about making any of it happen. The only people I knew who had PhDs were the ones who taught me. I do remember we talked about where there was good work being done, the difference between Australian/UK and North American PhD programs and what kind of topics I might do. Barb then mentioned that she had a project she was working on and they were looking for someone do contribute by doing a PhD on evidential systems of a Tibeto-Burman language from Nepal. How was I meant to come up with a better idea than that? She promised me that her oncologist gave her at least the four years I needed to finish a PhD, because I am excessively practical and Barb had a very good sense of humour. I mailed my application to do a PhD at The University of Melbourne from a post office in Malta while on my holiday. I only mention this because it sounds very nonsense and like something form the 1930s.

[A disclaimer here: I usually strongly discourage students from staying at their undergaduate institution for graduate study. But I also point out I'm a giant hypocrite and staying at UoM to work with Barb was a good decision for me. Please take into account the survivor bias. Barb believed in me and that was more useful than anything another institution could have provided]

The week before I started my PhD with Barb, we caught up off campus with Sara, another PhD student who was about to start working with Barb. Barb used it as an opportunity to explain to us that even though a PhD would be big and demanding and important, it was also important that we didn't let it stop us living the rest of our lives, "if you need to, take a break to tour with a band or have a kid, that's important too" I was worried she was maybe expecting I had time to start a band as well as do a PhD? but it also left a lasting impression on me. She was so good at talking through the linguistic content of what I was doing, but also socialising me into the expectations of academia, while being realistic about life also happening. With Rachel Nordlinger as co-supervisor and Jill Wigglesworth as chair, they were an amazing, sometimes slightly terrifying, dream team who took their roles as supervisors, teachers and mentors seriously.

After my PhD, Barb joined me in the work with Andrea Berez-Kroker on data management. We also tinkered away on other things; including getting my honours thesis published. She helped me plan job applications, and even loaned me her office when I had video interviews. When I left Melbourne for post-docs we'd meet in different corners of the world. She was supportive and practical during many of my less optimistic moments while I was precariously employed. I enjoyed that my postdoc work allowed me to return to gesture, and spend more time doing lingcomm stuff, while still continuing to do work on evidentials and language documentation. Having Barb as a role-model mean that I normalised having a range of interests as a strength. I still spend a lost of time at a desk, but it's as far away as possible from the monotonous office job I left to come back to do a PhD.

In late 2020 Barb had a cardiac arrest. When La Trobe offered me an ongoing job in that same week, I apologised to her for texting her while she was in ICU. Obviously this is important because I'm the protagonist of my own story, even though it's a story about Barb, but I also wanted to mention it because a recurring theme in conversations over the last year has been "but, even when she technically *died* she still came back", which hasn't really helped things sink in.

I am pretty much the age Barb was when we first met. And, a couple of years into a tenured teaching/research role, I'm in a similar place professionally. And that's very much thanks to Barb. Without Barb I would not have done honours in linguistics, and I would not have come back to do a PhD. I wouldn't have been ready to face the grueling academic job market, and I wouldn't have normalised the importance of having more in life to define you than your job.

I miss talking with Barb all the time. There have been moments in the last year when I've been introducing someone to the bouba/kiki test, writing about my favourite gesture papers or talking through a problem a grad student is having with their writing, and I get to continue Barb's passion and enthusiasm. I am so grateful for the influence she has had on me as a linguist, teacher, supervisor and human, and I'm grateful I get to pass that on.

Co-authored papers This is a list of all the published papers for which we were co-authors. I'm proud that they represent a good range of our shared interests across gesture studies, language documentation, and data management. We have one more forthcoming paper, a handbook chapter on discourse in Tibeto-Burman languages, which is the other major area of shared interest that carried through my PhD work and beyond.

Gawne, Lauren, Chelsea Krajcik, Helene N. Andreassen, Andrea L. Berez-Kroeker & Barbara F. Kelly. 2019. Data Transparency and Citation in the Journal Gesture. Gesture 18(1): 83–109. https://doi.org/10.26181/5f57fddc85ebb [Superlinguo blog post]

Berez-Kroeker, A.L., L. Gawne, S. Kung, B.F. Kelly, T. Heston, G. Holton, P. Pulsifer, D. Beaver, S. Chelliah, S. Dubinsky, R. Meier, N. Thieberger, K. Rice & A. Woodbury. 2018. Reproducible Research in linguistics: A position statement on data citation and attribution in our field. Linguistics 56(1): 1-17. https://doi.org/10.1515/ling-2017-0032 [Superlinguo blog post]

Gawne, L., B.F. Kelly, A.L. Berez- Kroeker & T. Heston. 2017. Putting practice into words: The state of data and methods transparency in grammatical descriptions. Language Documentation & Conservation 11: 157-189. [OA PDF] [Superlinguo blog post]

Gawne, L. & B.F. Kelly. 2014. Revisiting ‘significant action and gesture categorisation. Australian Journal of Linguistics 34 (2): 216-233. https://doi.org/10.26181/5e4b684d8f1e9

Gawne, L., B.F. Kelly & A. Unger . 2010. Gesture categorisation and understanding speaker attention to gesture. In Y. Treis & R. De Busser (Eds), Selected papers from the 2009 conference of the Australian Linguistic Society. Melbourne: La Trobe University. [PDF]

[sunflowerim]

I don't wanna say goodbye, 'cause this one means forever

Journal entries of our resident drama queen, Sirius Black. 12 birthdays. 12 entries. And a great deal of friendship, pining, love and heartbreak.

Wolfstar-Marauders hc. Word Count: 5155.

🌙💫

November 3rd, 1971

Dear Diary,

I am Sirius Orion Black and today is my birthday

I, Sirius Orion Black, turn 12 today.

This diary was a present from Andy for starting at Hogwarts but all these months I didn't know what to write here. Today, I asked James what he would do if he had a journal, and he said he would write about all his exciting days in Hogwarts so that it would be stored forever in pages.

I think today was pretty exciting, so I am going to start this journal, finally.

This birthday was quite different from the ones I've had before

My parents forgot to wish me. Or they just chose not to. Probably because I'm the first Black to have ended up in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. It should have made any regular kid sad but I'm somewhat relieved.

I was not woken up by Kreacher loudly cleaning my room in the morning (because apparently, my room must be squeaky clean on birthdays even though no one really comes up here except to reprimand me for something), but instead by James jumping on my bed to wish me. It startled me a bit but the change was welcome.

I was not greeted in the morning by my mother or father who, at some point in the past few years had started saying that this day was an annoying reminder (well, they never really said it but actions speak louder than words), but instead with a freshly baked pie which James's mom had sent because he'd mentioned to her in his previous letter that it was his "best friend's birthday". I liked that too.

People in the hallways wished me and it made me very happy; unlike when people at home wished me lectured me about my noble birth and it made me want to hide in my room.

I did receive cards from Andy and Uncle Alphard AND received some more cards from a few friends. (Remus is excellent with cards by the way)

I had no idea birthdays could be this fun.

I really hope I can stay in Hogwarts for a long time.

P.S. Reggie did not wish me either and I wonder what’s up with him. I was expecting a letter from him. But then again, my birthdays have never been a big deal in the family (what with my rebellious streak and all) so I suppose that’s okay.

* * *

November 3rd, 1972

Hello journal, it's me again.

It's not that the past 365 days were not exciting; they were. I just forgot to write about them. Also, I doubt if I would have been able to fit an entire year's worth of adventures in a single journal. Yes, we indeed had THAT much fun.

I am a year older today and once again glad that no one from my family has been able to ruin this day for me this year either. Somehow they just decided not to acknowledge that I was ever born. Maybe they would if I was more like Narcissa or Bella. But who'd want to be like them? Gross. I'd much rather celebrate the day with people who truly care about me.

One thing that did upset me a little was Reggie's behaviour. He started Hogwarts this year and was sorted into Slytherin like the rest of our "noble" family, but it's like he doesn't even recognise me anymore. I know that my being sorted into Gryffindor was a matter of disgrace to the family but I don't understand what that's got to do with Reggie. We're supposed to be brothers, but whenever I look at him these days, he looks like a miniature version of our birth giver. I wonder who brainwashed him like that.

Actually I don't have to wonder. I know it was our mother.

Anyway, Lily once said that I should be more grateful for things I have rather than complain about things that displease me, so here:

I'm grateful that James and Remus are in my life.

I'm grateful for all the things they did to make my birthday special.

I'm grateful that I'm not lonely anymore.

Most importantly, I’m grateful to the Sorting Hat for putting me in Gryffindor. I would have missed out on everything if not for this.

And I'm not just saying these because Lily asked me to but because I really mean it. I'd be nowhere without James and Remus.

That's it for this year.

I will try not to ditch this journal until my next birthday.

Sirius Black, aged 13, signing off.

* * *

November 3rd, 1973

I am now 14, and I've just had the best birthday ever.

It was a stroke of luck that my birthday fell on Hogsmeade weekend. I couldn't have asked for anything better. Also because 3rd years are allowed to stay in the common room till late, I had the golden opportunity of attending two celebrations this week: the Gryffindor Halloween party and my birthday. Yes indeed, James and Remus pulled all the strings to throw me a birthday party after our already amazing day out in Hogsmeade. I have no idea how they managed to put together so much but it meant a lot to me.

James gifted me a two-way mirror so we could communicate during detentions. That's the best idea he's ever had! And Moony, a.k.a, Remus (Moony is his nickname now; reasons: non-disclosable) gave me an enlarged disc containing muggle music (apparently it's called vinyl, and we need a vinyl player to listen to it). Frank says he'll find a vinyl player for the common room so everyone can listen to muggle music in general, but I have decided that I will be the first one to listen to this particular vinyl, alone. I don't think I wanna share Moony's gift with everyone right away.

I love the presents and I love my friends.

P.S. I have resigned myself to the fact that my journal entries are indeed gonna be annual and not as regular as I had initially promised and I think it's better that way. I'll be able to keep using this diary for a long long time. Until I'm withered and old and will need to use magic to write instead of my tired hands.

P.P.S. James, Moony, and I go by the name 'Marauders' now and we've made quite a name for ourselves in Hogwarts. Not something my parents would be happy about and that's exactly what makes it so much better for me.

As for Reggie, he never tries to talk to me in school and keeps his distance at family dinners, like I am an object of disgust to him. It's gonna take some getting used to, but I suppose I'll manage as long as I have James and Moony.

* * *

November 3rd, 1974

I, Sirius Black, 15, have a major crush on Moony. I know this is my birthday journal and I shouldn't be pining away here, but I cannot talk to anyone about it and will combust if I hold it in any longer. Hence, the journal.

James got lucky. He can talk about his hopeless crush on Lily all the time without any restraints and he doesn't care if she rejects him a hundred times. I can't say the same for myself. Not to be dramatic but I'd be pretty devastated if Moony ever turned me away the way Lily does James. Some girls have asked me out this year and I did go to Hogsmeade with one of them last month, but I cannot seem to get Moony out of my mind.

Not to brag but a lot of girls asked me out for the Yule Ball too but I had zero desire to be bored so I went in with Moony. In hindsight, it might not have been the best idea because going to a 'Ball Dance' and trying to dance around with Moony had me panicking throughout. Why am I such a mess when it comes to him?

Over the year, Moony has randomly brought in more muggle music for me and I have loved every single one of them. I don't know how he knows just what I'd like. He just gets it.

Frank found a vinyl player for the common room, but the seller also had another slightly broken player which he was ready to give up for free, so of course I took it and fixed it, and placed it right next to my bed. Now I can listen to music anytime I want. But mostly I'm not alone because there's Moony who loves music just as much and he often joins me and tells me all about these muggle singers I'm constantly in awe of.

For this birthday he built me a tiny shelf for my vinyl records, the keyword being 'built'. Sometimes he amazes me like that, by doing things himself that could otherwise be done quicker with magic and I love the effort he puts in for other people (even though he tries really hard to come off as this guy who doesn't give two shits about anyone, he's secretly a softie).

The birthday surprise was amazing as usual.

The Marauders' birthday parties have started to cause some real hype in the school. Even people from other houses come in too (not Slytherin though, never Slytherin).

Anyway, for my next birthday, I hope Remus just gifts himself to me. Or maybe I should stop being a little shit and ask him out. But before any of that, I have to be sure of his feelings too. So far he's been constantly giving off the vibe that he absolutely doesn't want to date anyone which means, I have a LOT to work on until my next birthday.

Merlin, it's gonna be one long year.

* * *

November 3rd, 1975

I, Sirius Black, am 16 today, and an animagus. I'm an illegal one so technically I shouldn't even be writing it down here (like I haven't in the past 2 years of attempting to be one) but my charms have gotten stronger and nobody but me has access to this journal. Anyone else who opens the journal is only going to find blank pages.

Moony, my beloved, is a werewolf (Hence the nickname Moony. Get it? The moon? The furry little problem? Yeah). James and I found out about it in our 3rd year and since then we've been trying to learn about animagi and transformation so we could keep him company on full moons and this year we finally pulled it off. My animagus form is a dog. Not that I mind but I'm beginning to think that all the people who have called me a little bitch before, might have been onto something. Except I'm not little. I'm huge and I really really really hope that idiot Snape bumps into me someday while I’m in my dog form. I'm going to scare the living daylights out of him.

James' form is a stag with huge antlers so we're calling him Prongs. We have decided to call me Padfoot, but sometimes Moony just shortens it and calls me Pads, and my insides start to melt. When and how did I become such a sap?

Anyway, I'm an absolute coward who hasn't done anything in the past year except pine from a distance. And the pining wasn't even mutual. It’s so embarrassing. I think Lily is catching up but Moony, that oblivious idiot, never notices. I'm not persistent like James so I'm not hoping for a miracle.

My birthday was cool because duh, I'm a Marauder. Prongs got me a leather jacket. Apparently, it was Lily's idea, but she still doesn't like me enough to get me something herself. But I'm glad she at least gave the suggestion to Prongsie because boy do I look smashing in it.

Moony got me a photo frame with a picture of me, Prongs, and himself and I really had to hold back tears upon seeing the picture. A little backstory: a few months ago, the three of us had got dressed in tuxedos and went to a studio to get our picture taken, as a joke, because we were that bored. In fact, I'd forgotten about the picture until today; the picture that looks more like a family portrait than any picture in the hallway of Grimmauld Place. It looks real and is currently resting on my bedside chest of drawers, right next to the vinyl player. Merlin, I'm really soft for him. Maybe I really shouldn't bother talking about my crush on him and give up on the whole confession stuff. I don't wanna ruin what we have right now.

Signing off.

* * *

November 3rd, 1976

TURNS OUT THE PINING WASN'T ONE-SIDED AFTER ALL. GUESS WHO ISN'T BITCHLESS ANYMORE? THAT'S RIGHT! ME!!!

Long story short: a few months ago on Moony's birthday, we almost had a moment I guess. His birthday party had just ended and people were slowly leaving the common room and trailing back to their respective dorms and the two of us were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. I was tired and I almost dozed off resting my head on Moony's shoulder (!! internal screaming !!) and I think he was carding his hands through my hair (!! internal screaming intensifies !!). Anyway, a slight tug on my hair woke me up and he was like 'Don't fall asleep here let's go back to the dorm'. I will never understand what possessed me at that moment but I ended up saying, "Let's stay like this for a little while. Please." And the way he looked at me after hearing that, oh Merlin. I cannot describe it in words but it was enough to give me the confidence I'd been needing for months, and I actually pulled him closer by tugging at his shirt and I'm almost sure I'd have kissed him if Prongsie didn't choose that moment to come down looking for us. I love him to death, but at that moment, I really wanted to punch his face. The spell was broken and Moony pulled back and I faked a yawn in an attempt to be nonchalant.

But ever since then, there has been this tension between us. I think I had finally made him stop and think about things and probably recently, he finally came to a conclusion because last night at 12 after Prongs had gone back to sleep in his bed after wishing me, Moony stayed back on my bed and following some awkward small talk, actually kissed me!!

And then guess what he said?

"I hope that's okay."

Well duh, of course it's okay Moons. It's me, and it's you, so it'll always be okay.

I was too stunned to say any of it though, so I just kissed him back to make him understand that I wanted this too. That I had waited ages for this moment.

I am mad blushing as I write this. This is embarrassing.

I will not go into any further details but yeah I'm really happy today.

Another important event that happened in the past few months is that I ran away from home after last Christmas. Yes, it finally happened and I was backed by the Potters. I live with them now and I'll forever be grateful for that. On top of that Uncle Alphard had left me all his money which I could access once I turned 17, so now I'm not financially dependent on anyone (which is very important to me). Again, I shall not go into details regarding why I ran away from home because it's gonna ruin the vibe of this journal. That's something I'd rather not vent about.

Anyway, it's been better since then. The Potters take care of me. Prongs takes care of me. And Moony takes care of me. A lot. Even Lily isn't as rude. I hope things stay this way for a long long time.

Happy 17th indeed.

* * *

November 3rd, 1977

Lily and Prongs started dating this year. I wanna say I saw it coming, but that would be a lie. I think I was almost as surprised as Prongs was.

I'd thought I would be spared from Prongs ranting about Lily once they start going out and at least have the last year at school free of "Lily this"and "Lily that", but I was wrong. If anything, it has increased. But it's okay because hearing him talk about random things while the Wizarding World is slowly heading toward destruction and war is calming at times. It also seems like he's become more responsible over the past year. It suits him.

Moony and I are okay, but I'm worried about him. With the current insurgence of dark power, it feels like only a matter of time before people start coming for him. But one thing's for sure, I'll protect him with everything I have. He probably doesn't need it but the very thought of something happening to him keeps me up at night.

We've all decided to join Dumbledore once school is over to fight death eaters and You-Know-Who. I'd imagined a safe and happy future with my friends and I'm willing to fight anything that stands in its way.

I was not in the mood to celebrate my birthday but because it's my last one in school I didn't protest. We still have fun but it's overshadowed by this constant fear of something happening to the people you love. We live among enemies. We go to classes with people who might potentially join the dark side and it's hard to ignore such thoughts.

I think I would have lost my mind without Moony beside me.

I love Moony and he loves me and we've decided to live together after school is over. I don't want us to stay apart in times like this.

I genuinely feel responsible for the people around me. Maybe I really did grow up after all. We've all grown up. 11-year-old Sirius would be surprised to see 18-year-old Sirius now.

On another note, I finally lost patience with Reggie. I found him torturing younger students because they were "half-bloods" and at that moment I could see our mother in him. Nothing could have prepared me for that image of him. I interfered and overpowered him, which resulted in a burst of insults; everything that our mother would have said in that situation, word for word. Maybe I should have started fighting him from the day he started calling Remus names because of the half-blood bullshit, but Remus always used to stop me. But this time, Remus wasn't around and I was not having it. I would have fought him again if not for Prongs and Lily, who were then doing their rounds as Head Boy and Head Girl. I'm glad they stopped me though, because, despite the anger, I was too hurt and was very close to tears which is the last thing I'd have wanted Reggie to see. I never thought things would turn out like this between us.

* * *

November 3rd, 1978

School is over and I'm currently living with Moony. I feel more at ease somehow now, than when I was at school. I suppose it's because I don't feel helpless anymore. James and I started our Auror training and with every passing day we're becoming stronger. I can fight death eaters and I am capable of protecting other people. Moony couldn't join Auror training because he cannot be involved with the Ministry but he's been carrying out other missions for the Order of the Phoenix, aka the face of the fight against You-Know-Who.

My birth family, as expected, has joined the dark side. The Blacks are supposedly among the biggest supporters of You-Know-Who and I've faced immense backlash because of the name I carry.

Living with Moony is one of the only comforting things in my life right now. We've moved into a small house close to the Potters and after a whole day of meetings and missions, I am so grateful for his warmth next to me.

A lot of my friends from school joined Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix and I see them regularly. We hang out sometimes like we did today for the impromptu birthday celebration Moony put together for me. But it feels like a privilege we can't afford. Not yet. Not when death eaters are running loose and You-Know-Who is gaining power.

* * *

November 3rd, 1979

James and Lily got married at the end of last year!! And of course I was James' best man. Their getting married has given me a new sort of hope that things will be okay. They have to be. So that Moony and I can get married at some point too. And we'll all be happy. After such a shitty childhood, I deserve to be happy.

On top of everything, Lily is pregnant, which means things will have to get better very soon. James Jr. deserves to be born into a peaceful world. I am going to make sure the kid doesn't have to go through what we all did.

Moony and I don't get to spend much time together these days because of our missions and it's hard but it's a price we have to pay to secure the lives of our loved ones. Being an Auror helps me with that. I'm 20 today but I feel much much older.

* * *

November 3rd, 1980

We lost James' parents to dragon pox. They left before little Harry arrived.

Reggie is dead. So are my parents. Reasons unknown. But I'm pretty sure they got into trouble with the Ministry like most other death eaters.

Anyway, that doesn't matter now. What matters is that I have to protect James, Lily, and Harry. I won't let the war orphan him like it did James and me.

The Dark Lord is after Harry. There's apparently a bullshit prophecy that states that Harry will be able to kill him and so that moron is after a literal baby. And guess who relayed that prophecy to the Dark Lord? Fucking Snape. I knew he was bad but how evil do you have to be to do something like that?

James and Lily are to go into hiding and I am to be their secret keeper. Dumbledore said he might change the secret keeper because everyone is going to suspect that I know about it. After all, I'm close to them and if I get captured, they might torture me to get their location out of me. I know I won't give in to torture but we're trying not to take any risks.

It's not going to be Moony either. Dumbledore has sent him on a lot of missions to try and bring other dark creatures to our side and every time Moony comes back from those missions, he seems a little different. I find it hard to communicate with him these days. It might be my paranoia speaking but I am not ready to take any risks. Moreover, after me, Remus is going to be the prime suspect of being the secret keeper. So we can't risk that. I've relayed as much to Dumbledore and we will be choosing someone unsuspecting.

Turning 21 was supposed to be fun but 'fun' is something I can't even imagine anymore when I go to work every morning and round up death eater after death eater or when I find myself staring frozen at the occasional familiar name on the list of casualties.

It seems stupid to write all this down in a journal but my head will explode if I cannot vent about all that goes on in my head, so in a way, I'm glad this journal exists.

* * *

November 3rd, 1995

It's hard to believe that this journal still exists and that it has been 15 years since my last entry. I showed it to Moony yesterday and he said I should try writing again. Might be good to vent. So here goes,

I turned 36 today. But James and Lily aren't here to see me now.

We lost them to the war 14 years ago.

I couldn't save them but I wanted to rescue and take in their son, Harry, my godchild. But I couldn't even do that because I was convicted of murder. They really went ahead and put me on trial for the murder of my best friends and everyone just stood and watched. Funny how easy it was for all of them to forget that James and I were brothers once they looked at the cursed name I carried : Black.

I'm ashamed to admit that I had suspected Remus of being a spy. That I had distrusted him which led to the real spy taking advantage of it. That spy, who of all people had ended up becoming the Secret Keeper for James and Lily and consequently revealed their location to You-Know-Who, who reached them and they sacrificed their lives to protect little Harry…

I don't think I can write at length about the plethora of emotions I have on this subject. It still hurts to think about it.

You-know-who too died that night supposedly but he's back now and we are approaching another war, hopefully to end things for good this time, and I swear on my life, I'll protect the ones I love. I couldn't save James and Lily but I won't let anything happen to Harry. Moony and I will see to that.

I had been shipped off to Azkaban and I stayed there for 12 years until I made my escape 2 years ago. I will not go into details about that either, for the sake of my sanity.

Speaking of people I love, it took some time, but I think Moony and I have been able to navigate through our misunderstandings. I've altered the spell on the journal so Moony can have access to it too if he wants. This journal is possibly the only keepsake we have of our childhood together. I told him that he may read it some years down the line.

About Harry, I don't know where to start. I love that kid to death and I'll never forgive all the people who made his life this miserable. If I had known the kind of life my Godson was forced to lead, I'd have made my escape sooner and rescued him. Both Moony and I had been under the impression that he was taken care of, so he stayed away from Harry's life and I thought about him from a distance. There's only one person I'm blaming for this - Dumbledore. We were stupid for entrusting him with everything.

One day, when the war is over, I hope we can all live in peace. Harry, Moony, and me. But for now, I'm just really worried because Harry always has this tendency to dive head-first into trouble and I'm too scared to lose him. I'll have to give him some serious talk soon.

About James and Lily, it feels like I'm being repeatedly stabbed with a dagger every time I try to talk about them. When we were in school, James used to say that he hoped he'd never have to outlive any of us. That he couldn't handle the thought of being left behind. Who knew his words would come true like that? It's been 14 years but the wounds are as fresh as ever. Some grief, you aren't supposed to move on from.

Anyway, time to wrap it up. Harry and his friends are going to come over in the evening to see me and I'm so thankful for the time I get to spend with him. And Moony.

P.S. Moony if you ever decide to read this, know that I love you. That I have always loved you. That I spent every moment in Azkaban regretting my decisions. I'm sorry that I let my paranoia get the better of me and blindsight me to all that I held dear. I hope you can forgive me.

* * *

November 3rd, 1996

I'm not sure I can do this but I think it would be wrong to not continue this birthday journal.

Sirius.

How could you do this to me? To Harry?

How could you leave us a second time?

The war is still going on but your absence is eating me up from the inside. Every place I go, screams your name. We were all supposed to survive the war, you idiot. You were supposed to continue writing in this journal till you were old and withered. You can't just not keep your word.

Just when I'd finally made peace with your long absence, you came back into my life and made me realise that I never truly had moved on. How can I go through that again? I'm not ready to say goodbye. Not again. Not when you did not spend enough time with me. We've been apart longer than we were together and I hate it.

Harry has been inconsolable and more reckless than ever. Losing you really shook him to the core and I don't know what to tell him when I can't even deal with this myself. I'm losing my mind at the suddenness of it all. All I can do is keep fighting so more people don't have to lose their loved ones. The fight at the Ministry was like fuel to the fire and the war is on the way to reach full scale soon. I don't know if I'll survive this but I do know that I will ensure the safety of as many as I can.

Against my better judgement, I did end up reading your whole journal, and Pads it hurts. It hurts so much. The way I'd give anything to get back our time together in school.

To get back James, Lily, and you.

Come back.

I think it was cruel of you people to leave me alone, to make me arrange and attend all your funerals, to make me go through all this heartbreaking ordeal. To leave me nothing but your gravestones to talk to. There's only so much grief I can hold.

You just wait till I see you again.

I remember you saying that 'Dust thou art, to dust returnest' only applied to us 'earthlings' and that you'd just go back to the star you came from. It sounded like a harmless joke in school but now I just hope I can reach you wherever you are, Pads.

I cannot continue any further but I'm somewhat relieved I could add one more entry to this, that this journal could have a closure.

Happy Birthday Pads. I Love You. And goodbye I'll see you soon.

Yours forevermore,

Moony.

🌙💫

A/N: I won't say that this song inspired the whole fic but towards the end I thought that the grief I wanted to portray with this fic resonated perfectly with how this song makes me feel so I listened to it again and it kinda helped me articulate things better.

And this is the cover I was obsessively listening to while writing the last entry :

P.S. To anyone struggling with grief and loss right now, I hope that you can be okay eventually. And I hope that it can get better someday soon , if not now. Please take care.

My Other Works

[ababybiter]

living with bangtan part 5

bts x reader, slowburn, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers

It's Wednesday. A few days after the...incident. You hadn't seen Yoongi apart from lectures and it was pretty awkward. Everything you thought it would be. But maybe it was more because it was Jungkook that would sit in between you. Your relationships felt like they were teetering on the edge of destruction. You needed some other friends, that didn't always congregate in your living room.

There's a girl in your class, her name is Nayeon and she always sits nearby and you don't really see her with other people. Which reminded you of yourself in first year, hovering near other friend groups, wondering if you'd just be swept in.

Today, as you sit in your usual order, yourself, Jungkook, then Yoongi, packing up your laptops and notebooks, you lean forward to wear she sits alone just in the row in front of you guys. "Hey, Nayeon, right?"

She turns, her glossy hair flips over her shoulder. "Hey!"

The confidence you can acquire through living with a bunch of buff men is astounding. "Want to get lunch?"

Turns out the two of you have lots in common, she hadn't made many friends yet from class, but she was still fairly close with her room mate from last year. She joins you in the library's cafe a couple days later after the two fo you spent the morning studying. "Y/N, this is Wonyoung!"

Nayeon was cute, but Wonyoung was stunning. You needed this girls skincare routine. She fixed you with a lazy smile and held out her hand in an oddly regal way. You shook it eagerly. "Nice to meet you!"

"Y/N. We finally meet." She speaks softly. "I've heard so much about you."

There's something to be said about having female friends, you've missed the comfort of the perks that come with it. The two of them start hanging around the apartment, the boys seem to get on with them and you don't feel so out numbered anymore. Not that the boys ever gang up on you, it was just nice to have some more girls around.

That weekend, the three of you make plans to go for drinks, but Wonyoung cancels at the last minute, claiming illness. Still, you and Nayeon go out and have a great time, you both send a couple selfies to Wonyoung, declaring how it isn't the same without her and quite obviously her skill with selfie angles that the two of you seem to be lacking in today.

You decide to bring Nayeon back to the apartment and you bust in giggling together. In your silliness, you accidentally forget about the problem with your door, it swings open, smacking into the wall. Luckily, Jin was out playing late night basketball with Namjoon. But Yoongi's door opens and he stands there squinting in the dim light coming from the kitchen.

"Sorry!" Nayeon beams. "Did we wake you?"

He runs a hand through his messy hair and takes in the sight in front of him. "No." He sounds resigned, as if he's given up fixing something that hasn't broken yet.

You make eye contact with him for the first time in over a week. "You know Halloween isn't until next week right? You look like a ghoul."

And then the kitchen door opens and Wonyoung walks out, holding two bottles of water. She turns and smiles at the two of you as if she hadn't just been caught in a lie.

It's your turn to take in the sight this time. Yoongi, with his tired eyes and sex hair. Wonyoung, carrying water back towards him, wearing nothing but t-shirt you were wearing just last week.

You don't say anything to him, just a squinted smile will do the trick. Not most evenings my ass. You think. He reads your mind and swallows. You turn to Wonyoung instead. "Feel better?"

"Much." She smiles that same lazy smile, the one that said, I know you live with the hottest boys on campus, and thanks for the connection.

"God, I didn't know she was like that." Nayeon sits down in your desk chair as you sit down on the bed. "Who lies about the shits? Like just say you've got the flu..."

"I can't believe him." You breathe.

"Him?" Nayeon blinks.

"He's just...ugh." You sigh. "Don't know what I expected from him, really."

"...Right." Nayeon eyes you, slightly confused. "Well anyway, screw them both, tonight was so fun."

"Yeah, it was. I'm so glad we became friends." You smile at her.

"I'm glad you spoke to me!"

The two of you laugh and fall asleep together. Well Nayeon sleeps, you lay awake wondering why it feels like there's a knife in your chest.

The next morning after Nayeon leaves, you stay in your room all day, too scared to run into Wonyoung again, or even worse, Yoongi. Sadness overcomes you at the awkwardness in the situation with Wonyoung, Nayeon is already ready to ignore her texts, even though she hasn't reached out once since the two of you saw her in Yoongi's t-shirt. A sinister thought appears, was she ever really your friend? Was she really just trying to pull Yoongi this whole time. The boys were kind of famous on campus for being extremely good looking, funny and popular, and she did seem if anything a social climber. You could tell when she hung out with you and Nayeon it was only because she didn't have any better offers.

You needed to squash whatever feelings you had stirring for Yoongi. What started off as annoyance turned to hatred and that turned to you begging him to rip your dress off. Not the most normal, healthy room mate behaviour.

You decided to risk the kitchen in the early evening for some cereal to inhale, seen as you were starving. You'd heard a few of them making something to eat about 20 minutes ago and now it was empty. You couldn't be bothered for the questions of isolation and you definitely weren't ready to face Yoongi. You take a seat at the kitchen table, hoping no one decides to come in.

But as your lazily feeding yourself some Coco Pops, Jin quietly walks in. He doesn't say much, but he walks by and ruffles your hair before grabbing some crisps from the cupboard. On his way back he glances at you, taking in your eyebags and folded frame.

"Mario tonight?"

You meet his eyes and his lips part in concern.

"Maybe." You quickly look down at your soggy cereal.

"Okay...well, you know I'm around...if you want to talk."

You keep your eyes there until he silently exits the room.

After battling the fear of human communication, the sick feeling finally passes and you decide to go for a late night walk with Hobi, knowing he'll listen without judgement. Plus he's been dying for some tea.

"Who lies about having the shits?" He wrinkles his nose as the two of you glance over at the late night tennis players. "At least that Nayeon seems nice."

"She is. Although I am know scared to invite any friend over."

"Why?" Hobi nudges you. "You want to keep the seven of us all to yourself? Didn't take you for possessive, Y/N."

"Stop." You groan. "It's not that. It's just...I think she was just using me to get to who she really wanted."

"I mean the girl knows what she wants and how to get it." Hobi seems far away for a moment. "But you shouldn't be so down about it. You got played by someone you just met, oh well. What's with the depression era?"

"I'm far from depressed." You chuckle. "Just feel...icky."

"About Wonyoung?" He narrows his eyes.

"...Partly."

"Y/N! I knew there was something else! Spill."

You sigh heavily, but you desperately needed to tell someone. "Okay, so you know when me and Yoongi went home after the club?"

"Uhuh?" He's practically salivating.

"Hobi you have to swear you won't spread this around!"

"I won't!"

"I'll be the village slut!"

"I won't!"

"Okay. So we kind of hooked up. Me and Yoongi."

"Kind of?" Hobi gapes. "Like not all the way but-"

"Yes, yes, whatever you're thinking. That." You cut him off before he describes in great detail what he's imagining. "I'm just starting to stress. I thought it meant more to him than it did and...he's not the only one I've kissed."

"Wait, woah, hold on, questions." Hobi waves his arms. "Did you want it to mean more to him? And what do you mean by not the only one?"

"Okay, the last part doesn't really matter, I just mean I've had lots of fun with you boys and some more than others...but with Yoongi, I don't know, right now I can't say I want it to mean something. I just feel kind of used after seeing Wonyoung. I just thought he'd treat me with a bit more...decency. I thought we were at least friends."

"You are friends and he does really care about you, we all do." Hobi bites his lip, thinking. "I think Yoongi is just...a man whore. But he'd never put you in any sticky situations-"

"Ew."

"He knows how to take care of his shit." Hobi tells you. "But I'm sorry he made you feel like just one of his girls. I guarantee you are more than that."

"So what do I do? Just carry on as normal? Lectures have been hard enough." You push at a loose brick as you slowly round the corner back to your apartment. "We can't not sit together cos then that makes things obviously awkward, but sitting together is just as bad seen as we don't talk. My notes have never been so good."

Hobi laughs. "It's tough I know. I get why people say you shouldn't hook up with a room mate..."

"Really? Do people say that?" You say sarcastically, palming your forehead.

"But you're both mature adults. And hey I had no idea you kissed anyone else so this will work out just the same!"

You stop on the path, looking up at the light coming from your shared kitchen window. "I hate this." You whisper. "What if they start talking and find out I've kissed 3 of them and-"

"Hey." Hobi takes your hand and kisses you on the forehead. "I'm with you."

When the two of you step into the kitchen the smell of warm brownies floods your nostrils and for a second your heart skips at the memory of Jungkook cooking you waffles. But instead it's Namjoon.

"Ohhh, Namjoonie." Hobi peers into the mixture, way closer than he needs to be. "Didn't know you were a stoner!"

"No way." Joon shakes his head. "They're for the faculty so hands off. Can you imagine if I laced them with weed?"

"Would make for an early lunch." You add and Namjoon smiles at you.

"You okay? Not feeling well?" He asks.

"I'm better now." You nod.

"Good." He goes back to mixing. "Want to help me with this?"

"For free?" Hobi pulls a face.

"I wasn't asking you, funnily enough." Joon's eyes soften as he places them back on your form. "I could use your gentle hand for the pouring."

"You don't know my hands are gentle, but sure." You step up beside him and he holds his hands up in mock surrender. You glance at Hobi and he gives you a subtle thumbs up.

You still can't get to sleep that night, some buried thought still bugging you somewhere at the back of your brain. It's got to the point where you are so deliriously tired that you now wish it would come forward so you could deal with it, whether that be confrontationally or not.

Luckily you have the next day off to sleep, when you head back to class on Monday, you're well rested and non anxious.

That is, until you're faced with the empty seat beside Jungkook, who you also haven't spent alone time with since the club. Yoongi is no where to be seen, so it's just the two of you back in row six. "Hey." You sit down. "Where's Yoongi?"

"Ditching." He watches you. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry I've been MIA. Just having a shitty mental health week."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Jungkook reaches a muscly arm over the chair and pulls you into a hug. He smells so good. "Can I do anything to help?"

"As long as...we're good?" You hesitantly meet his eyes.

He cocks his head like a confused puppy. "Of course we're good. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Great!" You breathe a sigh of relief. "Just checking."

A slow smirk forms on Jungkook's face. "Okay. Well, there's definitely no problem on my end. I'm glad we're talking. Feel like I haven't seen you in ages, seen as we live together. I've missed you."

"I missed you too." You lower your voice as the lecturer steps up to the podium and begins his talk. "Let's do something this weekend."

"Sure." He smiles down at you. "I've got a spa day voucher I need to use. It's not really the guy's thing, but what about you and me?"

"I'd love to! I love the spa!"

"Great. Can't wait."

It was now time to see Taehyung. He'd been extremely busy with his course so this one wasn't entirely on you, but he was your best friend since you moved in and it didn't feel right going any longer without putting in the effort.

you: wyd tonight?

bestae: meant to be going to some party with jungkook but i don't think either of us are feeling it. why?

you: me and nayeon are going to the movies, want to come?

bestae: yeah defo :) is it cool if jungkook tags along? i don't wanna ditch him uno...

you: lol yeah ofc, we were speaking today about getting together soon anyway

When V knocks on your door later that night he's holding a small bunch of yellow flowers. "Heard you were having a shitty week." He smiles at your gasp.

"Ohhhh, you're so cute." You grab them and the place them in an empty vase. "Is Jungkook ready? We need to get Nayeon on the way."

"He's going to meet us there. Some errand or whatever."

It's a long walk or a short drive to the cinema, and seen as Nayeon lives closer to the latter, you and V begin the trek to knock for her. You pull your coat jacket around you, the October air picking up it's timely chill.

"So, do you wanna talk about this week?" V starts.

You sigh. "It's nothing important, really. Just...think I need to take a break from drinking."

"Oh, you got sick?" He raises an eyebrow.

"No, no. I just tend to make poor decisions."

"Don't we all." He smiles and glances at you. "How poor are we talking?"

You slowly meet his gaze with a sheepish expression.

His face drops. "Oh no."

A laughs escapes you. "You mean Hobi hasn't told everyone and their grandma yet?"

"HOBI KNOWS AND I DON'T?" He gapes.

"Shh!" You smack his arm softly. "Stop making me laugh. This isn't funny."

V can see that you're troubled by this. "What happened, Y/N?"

"I sort of hooked up with Yoongi after clubbing."

You expect him to yelp again or maybe even worse, give you a disgusted glare, but instead a soft smile grazes his lips and he looks down at the pavement. "That's it?"

You look up at him, blinking erratically. "What do you mean, that's it?" You sigh, putting your face in your hands. "Second year is over and it's just begun."

V stops walking and stands in front of you, taking your hands in his. "Y/N, we're in college. We're allowed to hook up with people."

"I know, but Tae, it's Yoongi. We live together and...it's more than that. You guys are my friends. The best friends I've had in a long time and you're all insanely gorgeous and if I keep fucking up around you all-"

V is laughing again. "Stop stressing, Y/N!" He smirks. "Thanks for the compliment."

You blush and if his hands weren't holding yours you'd be covering your face again.

"Look, I understand why you're anxious now. If it was anyone else, yeah I'd probably lecture them. But I promise you, nothing will fuck up the dynamic. And I mean, nothing. The boys and I have lived together a long time, we're used to sharing." He winks.

"Right." You snort. "Don't get any ideas. It was a one time thing!"

"Sure, sure." He grins.

After collecting Nayeon from her flat, you meet JK in the cinema lobby. He already has an empty box of popcorn in his hands.

"No way you finished a box already!" Nayeon grabs it, disappointed to find it is in fact empty.

"I planned to get another one." He smiles down at her, taking the box back and placing it in the bin nearby.

"Constipation here we come!" V sarks as Jungkook glares at him over the one arm hug he gives to Nayeon.

"What do you mean we? You and Jungkook share a stomach?" You laugh.

"Pretty much." Jungkook steps towards you. "He eats off my plate whenever I cook." He pulls you into a warm hug. "How you doing Pretty?" He murmurs into your hair.

"Good." You speak into another one of his Calvin Klein t-shirts, the kid should sponsor them. He holds you for another few seconds before pulling apart slowly.

"Actually, doesn't matter how much popcorn you have." Taehyung places his chin on Jungkooks shoulder, batting his eyelashes innocently. "You're about to shit yourself either way."

Jungkook's lazy smile fades as he snaps his head towards you. "We're watching a horror?"

"Yes!" You exclaim. "I told V to tell you..."

Jungkook glares at his old friend and Nayeon sighs. "Don't worry, Jungkook we're in it together."

You thought you were okay with horror as you and V laughed at Nayeon and Jungkook jumping during the pre-movie trailers. But when the movie started, you realised how wrong you were. You sat on the end, Jungkook beside you, followed by Nayeon, then Tae. You and Jungkook ended up trying to hide behind each other the whole time, fighting to use each others shoulders as shields playfully.

"I can't believe you haven't seen the original!" Taehyung falls into step beside you as you leave the theatre. "It's so much scarier."

"I thought that was the original!" You laugh. "I guess you'll have to show me some time."

"How about tomorrow morning? Specific I know, but I actually have it off. No morning lecture baby!" He dances in the lobby.

"Fine, I definitely need to watch a comedy or something tonight." You decide.

The living room is however occupied tonight by Jimin who's using the PS4. You end up getting interested in the game, sharing the blanket beside him. Jungkook grabs yet another snack and joins you. As the two fo you watch Jimin play, the 3 of you get closer together until you're all snuggling under the blanket. Your head rests on Jimins shoulder as Jungkook's arm circles your waist.

You watch as Jimin's video game character tries a running jump and misses it's target, dying a hilariously long death. For some reason you can't stop laughing, Jimin tries incredibly hard to beat the section of the game which causes you to laugh even more, Jungkook leans over you, his bunny smile all you can see.

"You're actually crying!" He laughs, wiping a tear from your eye. For the first time in a while, you're just happy it's not from sadness.

None of you hear the door open, but you do hear the unmistakably fake cough for attention. You all turn to look at Yoongi, who's just gotten in. He looks good in a white tee, the arms cut off, showing his shoulders.

You pull your eyes away from the skin to meet his eyes for the first time that week. You catch your breath as Jungkook leans back.

"'Sup?" Jungkook asks.

"Y/N can we talk?" Yoongi's eyes bore into yours. Jimin looks up from his game and eyes him with interest.

"Uh, sure." You push the blanket onto Jungkooks lap and stand, following Yoongi out into the hallway. You think he wants to talk out there, but he walks right into his bedroom.

"Oh." You swallow, following him in.

It looks bigger this time, maybe because the window is open, the light of the moon spilling white light onto the bed. You can't help but follow the light, remembering the events that transpired between the two fo you here. Then you remember what's happened since, and who else has been here too.

You look away as he sits on the desk chair, almost as if sitting on the bed gives him de ja vu to when you stood in between his legs-

"I want to apologise." He starts in a deep voice.

You turn to him. "Oh." You mumble again, like you've forgotten all words.

"I shouldn't have...hung out of with Wonyoung." He gulps. "She was your friend and I made things awkward. I'm sorry."

You fiddle with a trinket on his dresser. Trying to work out what exactly he was apologising for. It didn't sound like he was referring to your hookup. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think she was ever actually my friend."

"Why would that make me feel better?" There he goes, always answering with a question. He sighs. "It was pure behaviour from me, I crossed a line. I hope you can forgive me."

You look up at him. Crossed a line? By getting with one of your friends? You decide to test the waters. "You're allowed to hook up with whoever you want, Yoongi. Whether I introduce you to them or not." You pause and he waits for you to continue. "If she hadn't ghosted me the next day, it would have been pretty normal. But I think you giving into your usual impulses showed me who my real friends are. So thanks."

He opens his mouth and waits for the retort on that comment to come. When they don't, he relaxes into a relenting smile. "Glad I could be of service then." He meets your eyes with his dark ones. "Are we good?"

You hear your own anxious words repeated back at you. So you repeat Jungkooks response.

"Of course, why wouldn't we be?"

"Cool, cool." He nods. "Um, any idea what's going on with Jimin?"

The question catches you off guard. "Jimin?"

"He's being extra clingy and not leaving me alone." Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, messing up the wax. "I'll try and get Jin to take him out or something. Sorry, I'll let you get back to it. He seemed happier with you there."

"I'll keep a closer eye then." You turn to the door, then stop and decide to extend the olive branch even further. "Want to join us?"

Yoongi hesitates, biting his lip roughly. "Nah, its okay. Couch looked pretty full."

You nod. "Good night, then."

"Good night."

The original horror flick Taehyung was forcing you to watch the next morning actually had you on the edge of your seat. You absentmindedly played with Tae's hair as he laid in your lap, occasionally glancing up for your reaction to shocking scenes.

"Ouch!" He yelps as you tug a bit too hard when a character almost discovers a dead body hidden just out of view.

"Sorry!" You rub his head and he sits up, pouting. You giggle, grabbing his head forcefully. His eyes widen in shock as you pull him you, planting a big wet kiss on his head. You pull him away from you, holding his cheeks in your hands. "Big baby."

He stares at you, lips parted until you drop him and go back to watching the movie. Something stirs in his chest, and he decides just for that moment that he takes back what he said bout sharing.

"What?" You catch him looking at you more often than not as the movie goes on.

"Nothing. Look!" He points at the screen just as the murderer comes sprinting out of the darkness at the main character.

You scream, leaping off the cushion and landing in Taehyung's lap. You cling to him, burying your face in his neck. His hands are feather like on your waist, unsure whether to keep you there or not. "Y/N..." He whispers.

"Sorry." You lift your head, staring into his eyes with your fearful ones. You find you can't help taking in each of his features since you're this close. His eyes, so dark and full. His cheeks, red and flushed. His lips-

"Y/N." He taps you. "You should-" He shifts his crotch and you almost feel something hard against your thigh, but it's probably your imagination.

"Who wants to play this Squid Game board game I just bought-" Jimin bursts into the living room. "Oh!" He freezes when he notices your position.

"It's not-" You slide of Taehyung as he grabs for a pillow not so subtly. "We're watching a scary movie."

Jimin glances at the TV. "Right, and you got so scared you slipped and fell on Tae's dick?"

"Woah!" V puffs out his cheeks.

"Yes! But no! I-I'll play with you!" You stammer, eager to change the subject.

"I bet you will." He looks you up and down saucily.

"Just open the box, Jimin."

The rest of the week you spent catching up on reading for your classes. The library was actually decorated for Halloween this year, which fell on Sunday. Saturday morning you were up bright and early for your Spa day with Jungkook.

"Hey, so I've never actually been to one of these." You tell him as the two of you get out of his car in front of the white glass building 40 minutes from home.

"You've never been to a Spa?" He looks at you gobsmacked.

"Not a proper Spa, no...who paid for this?" You gesture at the gorgeous building that no doubt held an activity usually out of your budget.

"My dad got it for me last Christmas, never got round to using it." He holds the door open for you. "I used to go all the time though, it's good for the soul."

"Yeah, I bet." You take in the immediately calming atmosphere of the reception. "Damn, I'm already like, totally Zen." You close your eyes and pretend to practice your breathing.

"Come on, Cinderella." He pulls you over to the desk, soon enough the two of you are wearing warm towels on your face and laying side by side on two beds.

"Can we interest you in couples massage?" One of the Spa employees suggests.

Jungkook smirks as you suppress a laugh and decline the offer. What does a couples massage entail? The two of you massaging each other or both of you being massaged by someone else at the same time? Bit weird, you thought, even if the two of you were together.

Jungkook seems to be itching to get to the pool, so you don't make him wait any longer. He waits for you by the changing room exit. You decided on a black swimsuit with a zip down the middle. You check yourself in the mirror, and tug it down just a cm. It's a high cut in the crotch area too, showing a lot of leg and ass. You thank the heavens you decided to shave everywhere before coming.

When you find him after changing, he drinks you in appreciatively and discreetly. If you blinked you would have missed the way the corner of his mouth quirked up as his eyes roamed your curves. You on the other hand aren't sure how subtle you are. His body is something to marvel in. Golden skin carved by the Gods, this boy should be a model.

He turns to face you more then and you choke a little on air at the sight of his tattoo sleeve exposed fully, from his fingertips to his collarbone.

"Ready?" He smiles at you then, back to friendly.

"I hope it's not cold." You poke a toe in the water and are pleasantly surprised. "Oh, that's not bad!"

He looks at you funny. "Of course it's not cold. You'll only find pleasure here, Y/N."

You shiver all the same.

He jumps in, soaking you in water. You can't help by squeal. "Do you wanna die?" Your voice echoes around the empty pool.

"Get in." He kicks back, spreading himself out in the water. "You're prolonging the torture."

You know he's right. Before he can swim away, you jump, tucking your feet in to bomb the water surface right beside him. You come up to catch your breath and move your hair off your face. When you rub your eyes clean, he's closer than you expect.

"Oh!"

"Shh." His breath tickles your face. "I think the lifeguard isn't too happy with us."

You slowly turn and notice an employee padding along the linoleum nearby, a watchful eye on the two of you. "Oh no, is he going to kick us out?"

"No." Jungkook laughs. "I was just joking. He's not the lifeguard. Again, you won't be watched or judged here. We're paying to relax."

"Actually we're not paying for any of it."

"You know what I mean." He swats water at you. "There's cameras. They probably just keep an eye on us from the next room."

"That's even weirder."

"Let's give them a good show then." He reaches a hand behind you to steady himself on the floor, whilst also trapping you between him and the edge.

"A show?" You swallow.

"Yeah. Let's race."

"Let's- wait what?"

"Let's go from this wall to the other side. Ready and go!" He pushes off and starts front stroke to the other end of the pool.

"Jungkook!" You push off both feet and kick after him, obviously you're not match for him. By the time you get to the other side, you're panting. You can no longer feel the floor under your feet and you're not quite at the wall yet.

Jungkook is laughing. "Need some help?"

"Please!"

"Damn girl, we need to get you to the gym." He says as he pulls you by the hands, placing them on the wall beside him.

"One: can't afford it, Two: you cheated, and Three-" You catch your breath, leaning your chin on the linoleum. Jungkook pats your head.

"It's not fair, you got me feeling like jelly and relaxed before forcing me to compete against you. Ask me again after I warm up, Bunny boy."

"Bunny boy?" He laughs.

"Duh." You gesture at his cute smile. "Plus you've got the stamina of a rabbit."

"Is this you reading me again?" He smirks.

"I mean anyone can see it." You pant. "Your future wife / certain girls on campus are real lucky."

He barks a short loud laugh, throwing his head back. You get a strange urge to kiss his neck. Luckily your urges are under your control right now. You swim slowly to the shallow end, now you remember how swimming can be relaxing, when you're not racing against Jeon Jungkook, that is. If you stand now, almost half your body would be out of the water.

When you turn around, Jungkook is floating towards you.

"Thank you for bringing me, Kook."

"Of course." He looks surprised. "I'm glad I could share this experience with you." You both smile at each other. "Mind if I do some laps?"

"Go for it." You grin.

You sit on the edge, watching him ripple up and down on the surface a few times, until finally he makes his way back to you. He stands in front of you, water dripping off his body. You can't help but stare. He moves the water with his hand, grazing your knee. "Getting back in?"

"In a minute. It's still kind of cold for my liking."

"Sorry it's not like your boiling hot baths, Y/N." He teases you.

"I guess it's my own fault then." You flick your hair.

"You should have more cold showers. It's good for you." Jungkook places a hand either side of you on the linoleum. "I'll warm you up." He starts breathing hot air on your neck and arms, tickling you. You giggle and part your knees at the sensation. He takes this opportunity to slide his waist in between your legs. Your breathing gets faster as his mouth stops blowing and lips graze along your cheekbone.

"What are you doing?" You sigh, moving your head to the side, which only allows him further access to your neck.

"I don't know, what am I doing?" He plants a wet kiss on your neck, guiding his mouth to your cheek.

"Jungkook..." You breathe.

"Yes, Y/N." He brushes his lips against yours but doesn't press down just yet.

"Friends don't kiss." You murmur, almost hoping he can't hear.

"Yes they do." He moves his nose against yours softly. "Friends can kiss any time they like. We've done it before."

Well he is right. You can't find a flaw with his logic right now. You're wet in more ways than one. "Okay." You melt under him, it's not fair. "Just a little bit."

"Mhm, just a little."

You press your lips to his and your legs widen even more, inviting him closer. As his tongue is granted access to your mouth, his hands grab your hips and pull you towards him. He's hard. You moan into his mouth and he repeats the noise in a deeper tone. You move your hips against him, earning a whimper from him. His tongue licks against yours and his hands roam higher.

Where your first kiss was funny and what felt sexual at the time, it was nothing compared to the closeness of you now. Nearly naked with soaking skin. His swimming trunks strained against him, he prods into you through the material and you groan deeply.

Almost instantaneously, the two of you suddenly remember where you are and break apart. He hangs his head, catching his breath whilst your eyes dart around, relieved to find your still alone. You eye the camera awkardly.

"Well, we gave them a show at least." You snort.

"Yeah." He sinks back into the water. "Guess that was more than a little bit."

"We should probably go and...cool off."

"Agreed."

You almost pull Jungkook into your cubicle but decide against it at the last minute. Surprisingly you're not worried this time about your actions, maybe because you both kissed before and laughed it off. The time it takes you to get changed kills some of the horny-ness, and the walk back to the car is taken up by the the sound of heavy rain as you both sprint across the carpark.

"Well I guess we can't get anymore wet!" You exclaim, flicking chlorine out of your already wet hair.

Jungkook bursts out laughing again as he fumbles for his car key.

The rain is still pouring by the time you get to the apartment. You both walk up to the door and you pat your pockets. "Shit, I forgot my key card."

"Oh shit." He pulls out his phone.

"You didn't bring yours?" You gape.

"Only my room key." He shrugs. "I figured you'd have one to get inside."

"Great." You tut. "Let's hope someone answers.

"Yeah, Jin-Hyung." Jungkook is already speaking on the phone. "Let us in please...Funny. I'm with Y/N. Okay, bye." He hangs up and looks down at you. "He's coming."

2 minutes later, Jin opens the lobby door. Jungkook pushes past him and heads quickly for the elevator.

"You're welcome!" Jin calls to him before looking at you. "I only came down because you were here. That kid owes me my leftover chicken."

"Jin, that chicken was old as hell. He did your stomach a favour." He tell him, following him inside.

"How was your spa day?" He asks.

"It was...rejuvenating."

After tucking into some ramen and taking a long warm shower, you throw on some sweats and decide to take the bins out. It's your turn after all, and you had some more energy to kill. Thankfully the rain had stopped, leaving a smell in the air that you always favoured. As you're just closing the lid to the giant recycling outside, the lobby door opens and Yoongi storms out. He skids to a stop when he sees you.

"Oh hey, it's your night again?"

You walk over. "Um, yeah, it's been a week. Where are you going at this time?"

"Just-nowhere." He runs a hand through his hair. "Just going for a drive."

"Oh." You nod, watching him. He looks up at the windows for a moment.

"Want to come?"

You jolt at the sudden eye contact, not that he notices. You're wide awake, he looks stressed and like he needs someone to talk to.

"Sure." Luckily you already brought your phone down with you, so you follow him to his car in the lot round the corner.

The moon is bright again, you watch the lights of the bars whizz by as you drive through the college town.

"So, what are you planning on writing about for the assignment?" He breaks the silence.

"You mean the big one before Christmas? We have ages to decide." You side eye him.

"We do, but I know you've already decided." He glances at you.

You snort. "The importance of cinematography in storytelling."

He smirks at his ability to read you, but it fades quickly as another thought passes by him. "I think Jungkook is doing something similar." He glances at you for your reaction.

"That's cool. Probably loads of students are writing about similar topics. At least 50 will be doing it on zombies." You scoff.

"That's actually what I was thinking about doing." He states bluntly.

"Oh!" You gasp. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sure you'll give a niche perspective-"

He laughs. "I know, relax."

You breathe out. "So, is that what you're stressing about? The essay?"

"Who says I'm stressed?" He doesn't look at you, but he grips the wheel tighter.

"Um, you. Everything about your demeanour." You gesture. "No one goes on a night drive unless they need to think. Or not think..."

He blinks slowly, fond of your babbling. "You know, I'm glad you came. You're very...distracting."

"Well, I hope not. I'd like to get home in one piece, thanks."

"I mean from the stuff going on in my head." He chuckles.

You raise a brow. "Wanna talk about it?"

He looks at you for a beat before turning into a gas station. "I need to get some fuel." He gets out of the car pretty quickly after pulling in, to fill up the tank. You sit in the passenger seat fiddling with your phone. You watch him head inside the station to pay. He returns a few minutes later and throws something firm and furry at you.

"Ah!" You catch a red panda plushy. "What's this?"

"It reminded me of the one from the arcade." He re-starts the engine. "You still like those right?"

"Of course." You smile. "You're so cute. Thank you."

He blushes at the compliment. "I'm cute."

He drives back out onto the winding roads, circling back towards campus. He puts on the radio, Red Velvet playing at a comfortable volume.

"I think I've got some mint chocolate in that draw there if you want some." He clears his throat.

You open the draw and rummage through the random things. A star-fish car freshener that he's yet to hang up, a couple of CDs, classical and pop. An old DS game, and finally the chocolate.

"How old is this and how is it not melted?" You peer at the wrapper suspiciously.

"I put it there yesterday." He rolls his eyes. "Plus it's only getting colder. You got your outfit for Halloween yet?"

"I have some options." You tell him as the apartment building comes back into view. "Can't wait to see you dressed up, I can't lie."

"Mhm, the feeling is mutual." He parks the car and you hug the panda to your chest, a little too forcefully. Maybe if you squeeze it hard enough your heart will stop beating so fast.

There's a moment when you both sit in the stationary car without moving. You're about to speak when Yoongi throws the door open and steps out. You follow him.

"Thanks for keeping me company." He stretches. "I usually like to be alone, but it's weird how much I prefer you being around."

"Anytime." You smile.

You both chat on the way up to the apartment and you're pleased to be back to normal with Yoongi. Him calling you into his room the other day was way too serious, it was moments like these that seemed to fix everything.

As you pull out your room key in front of your room, he lifts a hand in a friendly way and starts backward to his room. In a moment of overwhelming gratitude and peak relaxation from today, you patter towards him and envelope him in a hug. He's stiff at first, but welcomes you gladly, closing his arms around your back. He smells like expensive cologne.

"Good night, Yoongs."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

END OF PART 5

hope you enjoyed this mixture of moments, see you for part 6, halloween <3

[savethepinecones]

1, 16, 20, 25! + any one of your choosing

1: what is your nickname?

i dont have any based on my name since its already v short but ive had internet folks call me pinecones or piney and i like those!

16: what do you think makes you attractive?

i think physically my eyes are my best feature but if were talking personality uhh i guess ive got a solid sense of humor?

20: whats a totally random and useless fact that you know?

every piece of knowledge ive ever had just abandoned me lol. if you feel like youre going to sneeze you can stop it by touching the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth a few times, like if you were saying la la la (i think i was told youre supposed to say "pineapple" but its the tongue thing thats the actually effective part)

25: do you/have you played any sports?

oh man. i did gymnastics for a bit when i was like four. tried ballet when i was seven but eventually decided to pursue piano instead (my mom had my sister and i try both for a year and then pick one to stick with). i also was on a soccer team at some point, maybe in first grade? i actually dont remember it at all but i vaguely remember looking at the team photos. also i remember the high socks lol. and then i briefly did softball in middle school because my childhood best friend had picked it up the year before and i wanted to fit in. im very asthmatic though so most if not all of these Did Not Go Well lol

and for the bonus one ill go with 19: a time that you told a lie

first off some important context for this is that i was raised mormon and every summer the church would have all the girls ages 13-17 go camping for like a week. they do hikes and crafts and devotionals etc. i think its all standard church camp type stuff.

so the first year i went they had the younger girls go on a short hike while the older ones went on a longer one. when we got back, a couple friends and i were curious about the longer hike so we decided to check the trail out during free time. we kept walking for quite a while. idk how long it was but we knew wed been gone long enough that people would have noticed we were missing. if i had to guess id say maybe an hour or so idk. anyway we got to a point where the path started to trail off and disappear so we decided to stop for a bit and then work our way back. we were in a pretty big meadow but there were some trees partway down a hill and one of my friends went down there to pee and carved some initials on a tree. i think she said she carved something for me and my crush at the time but i never saw it lol.

anyway eventually we started to head back and at some point we realized we were probably gonna get in trouble for disappearing. i was really worried about it but one of the girls was like "no dont worry about it ill take the blame" and suggested that we tell everyone that she had seen a deer and followed it and then the other girl and i went after her because we didnt want her to get lost in the woods alone.

about halfway back to camp we started hearing people calling our names. we kinda figured there might be some people looking for us but what we werent expecting was that they were men. remember, this is Girls Camp. usually the bishop would show up for a day or two but other than there werent any guys up there. turned out the bishop showed up while we were gone and some other guys whod driven up with him to drop off some food offered to help him look for us.

eventually the search party found us and we all stuck to our story when they asked us what had happened. i think we also said that initially wed been lost and really scared but then we said a prayer and just like that we found a path! and thats why they found us on a trail even though wed supposedly run off into the woods at random. it was very dramatic and spiritual. and also complete bullshit.

so we finally get back to camp and the leaders are all fretting over us. the girl who "followed the deer" did get a lecture about not chasing wild animals because they could be dangerous but that was about it. no big repurcussions.

that night we had a devotional, which is basically just the whole group sitting around the campfire and telling stories about when they felt the holy spirit or whatever. usually the leaders will start off by reading some scriptures or a talk from some church official and then theyll turn it over to the kids to talk about their experiences. in the middle of this, a deer wandered into the clearing near our camp. some of the girls pointed it out because cool, a deer. but the moment the three of us saw it, my friend who had supposedly followed a deer into the woods earlier that same day jumped up and shouted "thats the deer!"

for some reason everyone, including the adults, took it at face value that this random deer in the woods must be the exact same one wed supposedly seen earlier that day and also that it was some sort of sign that god had been looking out for us while we were "lost"

looking back on it now it doesnt really seem like a big lie but it felt like a huge deal at the time because we lied to The Bishop. for a long time i considered this to be the worst thing id ever done. we never came clean to anyone whod been there at the time and i dont think i even told my mom the real story until like a decade later lol

that story ended up being way longer than i thought it would be lol (ive told it before but never written the whole thing out so the word count is surprising) but its probably the most exciting lie ive got. the alternative stories are mostly like "i was super depressed but didnt think that would be considered a valid reason to bail on something so i said i had a migraine" so i think it was the best option despite the length. also its been a while since i thought about this and it made me nostalgic so yay

thanks for asking!! i had a lot of fun answering these (you can tell by how long this post ended up being lol)

[lifewithchronicpain]

So I didn’t really talk about this because it was such an ordeal and I wanted to focus on the eclipse, but holy fucking shit my sister was a fucking monster the entire time.

My sister keeps stopping and starting cigarettes and is the absolute worst when withdrawing. And I should note, even when she’s not she’s a handful. She dominates every conversation and has been taking out a lot of her frustrations of motherhood out on my mom, which I am not okay with. We had issues in childhood but my father was equally if not more to blame but my sister only focuses on my mom. It sucks, I’m closer to my mom than my dad. My dad has never changed and continues to drink, my mom is sober and has made changes my dad never would. Plus I don’t need traumatizing shit brought up again, I got passed it and I don’t need reminders. And I don’t mean to trivialize my sisters issues, I just don’t agree how she’s handling it. She’s taking shit out on my mom and she just takes it because she desperately doesn’t want to be cut off from her grandkids.

So yeah, all that is 100X worse when she’s going through nicotine withdrawal. And once again, I am sympathetic. I finally quit 4 years ago and it was only possible with chantix.

Part of the problem was apparently my sister thought her house was in totality despite me saying many times it was close but not in it, and that I thought finding a playground in VT to take the kids to and watch it. I swear I thought she understood the plan was to go into VT or NH and to solidify the plans the night before depending on traffic reports. And it was good we did, one newscaster said it would probably be better to go to upstate New Hampshire than to head into a VT town, and so we changed the plan and went NH.

We decided on a place to head to, but my sister kept on bringing up that she wasn’t told, lecturing me on communication. I wanted to scream at her that communication also means fucking listening!!!! I think part of the reason she didn’t understand was she doesn’t really listen and is always thinking of the next thing to say. She does it all the time. She kept lambasting me about not having a plan when I Can’t Make Decisions for People Who Are Driving. Which was for the best, we didn’t go where I thought we might and we avoided most of the traffic and enjoyed the eclipse in a small town at a construction area they were letting people park it. (We even found a playground to take the kids after totality)

The eclipse itself was amazing and she was so happy to have seen it but still couldn’t let go of feeling like she wasn’t told. And like, I probably should have touched base right before coming, but I was kind of distracted with Brad so I didn’t. But I couldn’t even make that concession with how fucking horrible she was being. If she was normal, I could have said that and it would be that. But I wasn’t going to say it when I knew she was in a mood to argue and Anything I say will be taken the wrong way.

For example when I told her I always said her house was “near totality” she said “I don’t know what that means!” Okay so I’m guilty of not reading your mind and seeing you didn’t understand me? Most people when they don’t understand Ask fucking questions!

And then on the way there she’s flipping out over a truck slowing down at turns and hills because it clearly had a heavy load. And then she screams he’s just going 30mph as I watch a 30mph sign pass by. We weren’t in traffic, we made it to the path of totality with time to spare. It was ridiculous how mad she was at a truck that didn’t slow us down.

My mom was back in NH the other day and she confronted her about her smoking. The probablem is every time she goes to my aunts house, she bums cigs from my cousin. And then we have to deal with the withdrawal. She says it was a good talk, hopefully something was able to get through. Because as hard as it is on us, it’s worse for the kids.

Please understand I’m not judging struggling with addiction, it’s the fact that we’ve been subjected to these withdrawals more than once. One time she even smashed my mom’s kitchen chair. Another time she threw my mom’s luggage out right when she arrived because my mom didn’t greet her right. We can’t do it anymore, either she smokes or doesn’t, we can take this stopping and starting. It is fucking hell.

To top it off, she put me through so much stress I got migraines when we got back home. I don’t get very painful migraines like that anymore, usually they’re weak visual ones these days. But I was literally holding my body tense trying not to flip out on my sister and make it worse.

Time will help me forget how aweful my sister was during the eclipse, and all I will really remember is the beautiful event itself.

[siltrace]

Coffee, Bagel, and A Blessing

𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘 was one of those rare days when Clarissa could finally take a break from the demanding workload that had consumed her for the past few weeks. With the mid-semester exams in full swing, her responsibilities as a lecturer had momentarily eased, giving her the luxury of time to unwind before her upcoming flight to Dubai in just a few days.

Deciding to make the most of her day off, she set out for the mall—a simple yet comforting escape from her routine.

The mall was her choice for the day. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as crowded as it usually was, most likely due to the ongoing Ramadan season, with many people observing their fast. She made a mental note to take advantage of this quieter atmosphere by visiting more malls in the coming days, though she reminded herself to be mindful of the peak dinner hours. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in the rush when everyone gathered to break their fast.

Even on a weekday, stepping into the mall was always a bit of a gamble—sometimes tranquil, other times unexpectedly lively. But today, as she walked through the cool, air-conditioned halls, she felt a sense of relief. It was just what she needed—a moment of peace before the busyness of travel and work pulled her back in.

As she browsed through the neatly arranged racks of blouses, her fingers grazing the soft fabric, a gentle tap on her shoulder made her pause.

"Clarissa?"

A soft, familiar voice reached her ears, but for a brief moment, she couldn't quite place it. There was something about the way it sounded—warm, almost nostalgic. As she turned around, her eyes met those of an older woman, her face adorned with a kind smile. The recognition didn't come instantly. For a second, uncertainty clouded her thoughts as she struggled to recall where she had seen this woman before. Then, it hit her.

"Mama," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "How are you?"

Without hesitation, they embraced, holding each other tightly in the middle of the store. It wasn’t her own mother, the one she had lost at a young age. No, the woman in front of her was someone else—someone she had once thought of as family.

𝗛𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝘆’𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿.

There was a time when they had been close, sharing conversations and moments that felt almost maternal. Clarissa had once been welcomed into her world with open arms, as if she truly belonged there. But then, everything had crumbled. The relationship had ended, and with it, all the bonds she had formed. She had disappeared from their lives without a word, leaving behind only silence.

And now, after all these years, here she was again. Face to face with a piece of the past she had long left behind. “It’s me who should be asking you that. How are you, Flo? You’ve disappeared for so long,” Liliana said, her voice carrying both warmth and a hint of longing. Clarissa offered a small smile. “I went overseas for my studies, Mama. That’s all.” Liliana nodded knowingly.

“Yes, I heard about it from Harvey. You stayed in Seoul for quite some time.” Then, as if an idea had struck her, she added, “Should we grab a cup of coffee? You’re not fasting, right, dear?” Clarissa shook her head. “No, I’m not. That sounds good, Ma. But let me pay for this blouse first, okay?”

Before she could even make a move, Liliana reached for the shopping bag in her hands and turned toward the cashier. “I’ll pay for it,” she said with finality. Clarissa sighed, knowing better than to argue. Liliana had always been this way—generous to a fault, especially with the people she cared about.

Debating her would be futile. Even if she protested, Liliana would insist, and in the end, she would still be the one to win. With no other choice, Clarissa followed her toward the cashier, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and nostalgia wash over her.

After making the payment, Liliana handed Clarissa the shopping bag filled with neatly folded blouses. A satisfied smile graced her lips, almost as if she had personally dressed and raised the young woman beside her. Clarissa bowed slightly, a habit ingrained in her from years of showing gratitude. "Thank you, Mama," she said sincerely.

Liliana simply waved a hand, dismissing any need for thanks. Instead, she gestured toward the mall corridor. "Follow me, Flo."

Without hesitation, Clarissa obeyed, trailing behind her like a little duckling following its mother. The sight brought a faint smile to her own lips—it had been years, yet the dynamic between them remained the same.

Soon, they arrived at an upscale café nestled in a quieter corner of the mall. The ambiance was elegant yet inviting, perfectly suited to a woman of Liliana’s refined taste. The soft hum of classical music played in the background as they stepped inside. Liliana chose a cozy, private table in the corner of the room, and Clarissa took a seat across from her.

Moments later, a waiter arrived, and they placed their orders—Liliana opting for an Americano, while Clarissa went with a caramel macchiato. A small assortment of pastries accompanied their drinks, arranged delicately on fine porcelain plates. As the waiter walked away, Liliana leaned in slightly, a familiar glint in her eyes.

"Now, tell me, dear. How have you really been?"

Clarissa inhaled deeply, already sensing that this conversation would be more than just a casual chat over coffee. Clarissa offered a warm yet measured smile, carefully choosing her words.

"All is well, Mama. I’m doing fine," she replied, her tone calm and reassuring. Liliana studied her for a moment, as if searching for any sign of hesitation behind those words. Then, with a knowing glint in her eyes, she casually asked, "I heard you’re seeing someone now?" Clarissa nodded, her smile deepening slightly.

"Yes, I am. His name is Christian," she confirmed, her voice carrying a certain warmth. "We met in Seoul—he was studying at the same university as me back then."

Liliana’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, intrigued. "Christian? The Christian from Vortex Group?" she asked, referring to one of the most prominent business families known for their influence in the corporate world.

Clarissa chuckled softly, unsurprised that Liliana had already made the connection. "Yes, that Christian," she admitted. "We started off as friends, but over time, things just… naturally progressed."

Liliana leaned back in her chair, swirling her Americano gently before taking a sip. A thoughtful expression crossed her face, as if she were piecing together her own conclusions. "Well, well," she mused, setting her cup down. "I must say, that’s quite the pairing. You’ve always been someone with an eye for quality, Flo."

Clarissa laughed lightly at the remark, shaking her head. "It’s not about that, Mama. He’s been good to me. We understand each other well, and he’s been supportive of my career and decisions." Liliana nodded approvingly. "That’s important," she agreed.

"A strong foundation, built on mutual understanding and respect. I assume he treats you well?" "Very well," Clarissa affirmed. "He’s kind, patient, and… he makes me feel safe."

At that, Liliana smiled—a genuine, almost motherly expression. "Then I’m happy for you, dear," she said sincerely. "You deserve someone who cherishes you."

Clarissa felt a warmth spread through her chest at those words. Despite everything that had happened in the past, Liliana’s concern for her never wavered. It was comforting, in a way she hadn’t realized she had missed. Then, the lass felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere as Liliana’s words settled between them.

The older woman’s smile, though gentle, carried a hint of sadness—something unspoken yet deeply felt. Clarissa lowered her gaze momentarily, her fingers tracing the rim of her untouched cup. She knew this conversation was bound to lead to him eventually. No matter how much time had passed, Harvey’s presence still lingered like a ghost in the corridors of her past.

Liliana’s voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable weight behind it. "I believe that is not what Harvey had in value," she said, her words laced with quiet regret. Clarissa exhaled softly, choosing her response carefully. "Harvey and I… valued different things, Mama," she admitted, lifting her eyes to meet Liliana’s. "We were walking down different paths, even if we didn’t realize it at first."

Liliana studied her, as if searching for the truth behind her composed expression. "And yet, he never truly let go of you," she murmured, almost to herself. Clarissa’s lips pressed together. "Maybe," she conceded. "But he made his choices, and so did I. I had to move forward, Mama. I couldn't keep waiting for something that was never meant to be."

Liliana sighed, taking a slow sip of her coffee. "I don’t blame you, dear. I just… I saw how deeply he loved you, and I wished things had turned out differently." Clarissa offered a small, wistful smile.

"Me too, once upon a time. But sometimes, love isn’t enough."

A brief silence settled between them, filled only by the soft hum of conversations around them. It was a silence of understanding, of closure—one that neither of them had expected, yet perhaps needed. Liliana’s grip on her coffee cup tightened slightly as she spoke, her voice laced with sorrow and longing. “I wish you would still consider him to be your husband, Flo. I really do.”

Her eyes, filled with emotions, bore into Clarissa’s, searching for even the slightest hint of reconsideration. Clarissa remained silent, listening as the older woman continued.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Harvey has been in so much pain and sorrow ever since he realized he made the wrong choice back then. But by then… you were already gone,” Liliana’s voice wavered, her words carrying years of regret. She paused briefly, gathering her thoughts before continuing. “You were the perfect daughter-in-law I always wished for. If only, back then, he hadn’t been blinded by those spiri—”

“Mama.” Clarissa interrupted her with a gentle smile, her tone calm yet firm. “We can’t force him to believe in something he didn’t. Let’s just say… it was for the best. We should respect it that way.” Liliana exhaled deeply, shaking her head.

“And losing you? No, Flo. That was never for the best.”

Clarissa’s smile faltered slightly, but she maintained her composure. She had made peace with the past—at least, she had convinced herself that she did. Yet, sitting here with Liliana, hearing the pain in her voice, it almost felt like she was being pulled back into a story she had already closed. “It wasn’t easy for either of us, Mama,” Clarissa admitted softly. “But Harvey and I were not meant to walk the same path. We’ve both grown, changed. Life happened, and we moved forward.”

Liliana studied her intently, sadness evident in her gaze.

“Maybe you moved forward, but I don’t think he ever truly did.” Liliana sighed, her gaze unwavering as she watched Clarissa carefully. Then, with a knowing look, she softly said, "𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻’𝘁."

Clarissa’s breath hitched for a second. Her fingers instinctively curled around the warm ceramic of her coffee cup as she tried to compose herself.

“Mama…” she exhaled, forcing a small chuckle. “I have moved on.”

Liliana shook her head gently, her expression one of motherly wisdom and quiet persistence. “You may have someone new in your life, Flo. You may have built a new world far from here, far from him. But moving on? That’s different.”

Clarissa didn’t respond immediately. She knew Liliana was perceptive—always had been. The woman sitting in front of her had once been a second mother, someone who had understood her in ways even her own family hadn’t. Perhaps that connection never faded, even after all these years apart. Still, Clarissa straightened her back and met Liliana’s gaze with a steady one of her own.

“I have, Mama,” she repeated, firmer this time. “It took years, but I did. I move forward with life."

Liliana sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “If you say so, my dear.” But the sadness in her eyes told Clarissa that she didn’t believe her words—not completely. Clarissa took a deep breath and sipped her coffee, letting the warmth settle her nerves. This was just a conversation, just a part of the past. Nothing more. And yet, her heart felt a little heavier than before.

Clarissa sighed, her fingers tightening around the coffee cup as she processed Liliana’s words. “Mama…” she began carefully, trying to find the right response. “Harvey and I… we’ve been over for years.” Liliana shook her head, her expression a mix of sorrow and determination.

“Not for him, Flo. He’s been talking about trying to get you back. That’s how much he loves you.”

Clarissa’s chest tightened. She had spent so long convincing herself that Harvey was just a closed chapter, a past she no longer needed to revisit.

But now, hearing this from the very person who had once wanted her in their family, she felt a strange pang of something—regret? Guilt? It was hard to tell. Liliana leaned forward, her voice softer yet unwavering. “He told me that he's willing to fight with your boyfriend.”

Clarissa let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “That’s ridiculous. Christian has nothing to do with this. I’ve moved on, Mama.” Liliana sighed deeply, as if she had been holding onto these words for so long.

“And I still wish you were my daughter-in-law, one day…” Clarissa’s heart ached at the tenderness in her voice. She knew Liliana meant well—this was a mother’s love for her son, a mother’s longing for the daughter she almost had. But some things were irreversible. Some wounds, no matter how much time had passed, could never fully heal.

She reached for Liliana’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Mama… some things are better left in the past.”

Liliana’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she nodded nonetheless, even though her heart said otherwise. Her grip on Clarissa’s hand tightened slightly, as if she wanted to hold onto her words, to find some hope hidden between them. She exhaled softly, looking down at her coffee before glancing back up with a small, wistful smile.

“I love him, maybe,” she admitted, her voice quiet but firm. “I loved him, maybe. I’m not sure.” She paused for a moment, her gaze distant as if searching for an answer she had long buried. “But what I am sure of… is that we’re just not meant for each other.”

Liliana’s lips parted slightly, as if to protest, but no words came out. Clarissa continued, her tone gentle yet resolute. “One day, whoever he ends up marrying— whether it’s a man or a woman, he or she will be great. And they will do just fine.” Her eyes softened as she looked at the woman before her, the one who had once treated her like family. “And that person will love you just as I love you… as the mother I never had in my life.”

Liliana’s breath hitched, emotion flashing across her features. For a moment, she seemed to struggle between acceptance and the lingering hope she still held onto. Clarissa squeezed her hand once more.

"You’ll always be a mother to me, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in Liliana’s eyes, but this time, she nodded. There was pain, but also understanding. Perhaps not today, not tomorrow, but eventually… she would let go.

Liliana took a deep breath, steadying herself before offering Clarissa a warm, albeit bittersweet, smile. She reached out, gently patting the younger woman’s hand. "You'll always have my blessings for whoever you marry," she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of acceptance, even if her heart still longed for a different outcome.

Clarissa felt her chest tighten, the warmth of those words settling deep inside her. She had braced herself for resistance, for another plea to reconsider, but instead, she was met with love. Her smile grew, sincere and filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, Mama."

For a moment, silence stretched between them—not the kind that spoke of understanding. Of the quiet farewell to what could have been, and the embrace of what was.

END.

[cuetopia]

Page #8 - Fourth Year, Second Sem, Week 9

March 19, 2025

Right now I'm writing this based on notes I jotted down throughout the week. Forgive me if my words seem disconnected, I sort of remember what I felt in these moments but also often forget something once it's out of sight.

We watched the first cut of We Are Happy Fish today in production class, and I was so inspired by its individuality that I instantly scoured my brain for a special idea to bring to life. I'm not sure what this says about me, that I only really feel inspired to make art when I see someone else say something I've been meaning to. I remember how the director spoke about the film during development stages last semester, and how she was always so sure of what she wanted to convey: feelings from childhood that I relate to but try so hard to avoid. Film school is the most amazing during these conversations: critiques that aren't filled with nitpicking from peers or professors, but suggestions coming from genuine excitement to help your classmates improve. Over the years I've noticed people deterring from community building, but there's also been a rejection of individuality in the form of social media and following trends. So when I see someone my age stick to their own style, I can’t help but feel simultaneously amazed and jealous. It’s not that I necessarily want to create a film that’s like theirs, or even a film in general (yes I feel quite sad about the fact that I’ve never written or directed something I’m proud of, but I'm not very attached to the idea of (only) being a filmmaker). It’s more so that I’m jealous of people who have the motivation to create amidst all the chaos, who overcome the anxiety of being perceived and everyone telling them how to mold their work into something that's like everything else. I feel like I have so many ideas for stories, poems, songs, paintings, even construction (been meaning to build my bunny a house for months). I keep telling myself I’ll feel less burnt out when school is over, but how come people who have way more going on can also do way more?

I considered dropping my advanced sound design class (last day to drop is the 28th, assignment is due on the 30th). On one hand it means I won’t have to do the final assignment which clashes with so many of my other commitments, and it might prevent my GPA from dropping a little. On the other, sound design is something that I have fun doing, and I already put so much work into the other assignments. I don’t know if I want to pursue a job in sound–I fear I’m too slow or that it doesn’t come naturally to me–but every time I think of dropping this course I remember that I probably won’t be back in school, and this really might be my last opportunity to learn.

I really resonated with what Andrea spoke about in our guest lecture, particularly her story about how she entered the field. I’ve never been the type of student who talked to her teachers, and I’ve never been the stereotypical leader in a classroom. Hearing her say that all it took was one professor to recommend her for an internship definitely eased my nerves a little about finding a job in film. And after she said it was her soft skills that carried her—something about how you can't teach hard work—a fire was sparked in me. That’s exactly what I wanted and needed to hear. 

Currently reading Deep Cuts by Holley Brickley. Will it feel weird to read books set in university once I leave?

[hardynwa]

HEDA Chairman pledges commitment to anti corruption crusade

The Chairman of the Human and Environmental Development Agenda (HEDA Resource Centre), Mr Olanrewaju Suraju, has pledged commitment to continue in the anti corruption crusade began by HEDA 20 years ago. Suraju made the commitment on Saturday in an interview with newsmen at the 20th Anniversary Lecture of HEDA's foundation in Lagos. "We will continue to play the facilitating role that we have been doing. "We can only influence the process either for the duty bearers to discharge their duty or for the right bearers to claim their rights. "It is more for Nigerians to take their destiny into their hands," Suraju said. The chairman argued that reforms within the Nigerian Police and the Judiciary was required to make the efforts of the anti corruption agencies a success. " If we don't have have an effective policing system with integrity in the country and if the judiciary is not acting as the last hope of the common man, there cannot be any progress. "Unfortunately we have been dealing with that of the police but we are also moving to that of the judiciary, so if you see what has been coming out from the judicial pronouncements lately, especially those charges with anti corruption. "We might be having futile efforts from the anti corruption agencies because the anti corruption agencies can only investigate and then charge people to court and be prosecuted. "It is the court that will make the final pronouncement; but where the court starts discharging those that were charged for corruption, then we are in big trouble, so, it will be very critical that the judicial system should continue to respond to the needs of the people by not discharging those that were charged for corruption. "There is no doubting the fact that public officers in Nigeria are practically always guilty of corruption; so the judiciary cannot afford to be using technicalities in a country that is in dire need of sanitizing the system," Suraju said. On HEDA's partnership with the anti corruption agencies, Suraju noted that HEDA has partnered with most of the anti corruption agencies as the EFCC Chairman alluded to in his remarks . He said that the EFCC Chairman, Mr Olanipekun Olukoyede clearly admitted during his speech that HEDA has consistently pointed to them on many high profile corruption cases. " Part of the things we have seen especially in my remarks about the judiciary is to see how we can use international mechanisms like the laws we have in the U.S and the UK like the Unexplained Property Order which allows the system to investigate properties that are worth over 50 thousand pounds. "And quite a lot of Nigerians have properties in the UK, the highest among foreigners, these are Politically Exposed Persons. "If you go to the U.S, it is almost the same thing and the good thing is that the US has passed what it called the Foreign Extortion Prevention Act. "These are advanced expansions of the legal systems in foreign jurisdictions that can hold locals there who get away with fraud. "These are the type of things we want to see: Where we have frustrations with the system back at home, we can actually deploy the foreign mechanisms to hold our Politically Exposed Persons accountable oversees. He called for the independence of the anti corruption agencies, the reorganisation of the Code of Conduct Tribunal and the appointment of an appropriate head for the Code of Conduct Bureau. "Appoint an appropriate head of the Code of Conduct Bureau; it is an agency that have not only constitutional powers but have a special court that can prosecute especially PEPs within the shortest time without necessarily going to court "To reorganize the Code of Conduct Tribunal where the court must have regional courts of the Code of Conduct Tribunal for efficiency in the administration of justice," Suraju said. Read the full article

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

His mother's face tightened at Ishika's words. "I don't need a heathen lecture," she said, adjusting her grip on that worn Bible. "Satan has quite the silver tongue these days." 

Gavin felt the last of his patience dissolve. "We're done here, Mom. Please leave." The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees with her glare. His mother stood slowly, her movements precise like when she used to organize the church potluck after someone brought the wrong casserole dish. 

"I'll be praying for your soul, Gavin James. Both of your souls." She walked to the door with the stiff dignity of a martyr, pausing only to add, "Your father would be so disappointed." 

The words were meant to wound, and they did, just not in the way she intended. Gavin held the door wider. "Goodbye, Mom." After she left, he closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, eyes closed, collecting himself.

This was the main reason why he'd packed his car in the middle of the night, and set out on his own. His dad had passed away a month prior, leaving just gambling debts and a house that stank of Marlboros and dashed hopes. His mother had spent those four weeks clinging to her Bible and insisting that their financial ruin was "God testing their faith." The memory still tasted bitter. He remembered the college acceptance letter hidden under his mattress - Purdue, computer engineering, scholarship. His ticket out. The night he left, his mother had called his choice "selfish" and "worldly," as if wanting more than their suffocating small town made him Judas himself.

"I'm so sorry," he finally said to Ishika, pushing away from the door. "I really thought I'd outrun all that Bible-thumping bullshit." He sank onto the couch beside her, suddenly exhausted. "You were amazing, by the way. Most people just freeze up when Mom goes full Evangelical on them." He thought about the last real conversation he'd had with his father, three days before the heart attack. Sitting on their back porch, his dad staring at nothing while admitting between beers that he'd remortgaged the house for the third time. "You know, I left home because I couldn't stand the hypocrisy. All those Sunday sermons about honesty while Dad was secretly gambling away our house. Mom praying for miracles instead of facing reality." He looked at Ishika, really looked at her. "What you said about different kinds of light ... that hit home. I spent years thinking I was running away from something, but maybe I was actually running toward something better." The compliments she'd given him played back in his mind - someone who questions, learns, listens. "Nobody's ever described me quite like that before. Usually, I'm just the guy with the sarcastic remarks who fixes things when they break." He let out a tired laugh. "Thank you for that. And for not bolting when Hurricane Martha blew through my living room. I wouldn't have blamed you."

Ishika hadn’t said a word through most of it—she let Gavin speak. Not because she couldn’t defend herself, but because the way he stood up, calm and steady, meant more than anything she could’ve added in the moment. And maybe that’s what stunned her the most. He didn’t dodge. He didn’t water anything down. He faced it head on, even when it hurt. But once his mother stood, smoothing her dress like she hadn’t just dropped spiritual shrapnel into the room, Ishika exhaled—quietly—and spoke.

"Mrs. Scott," she said gently, folding her hands in her lap, her voice calm but unwavering. “I know you mean well. And I respect that your faith has shaped you—it clearly means everything to you. But I was raised Hindu, and I'm proud of that. My faith isn’t something I abandoned or drifted into. It’s something I carry every day with intention.” She let that hang for a beat, soft but firm. “I wonder if you know that Hinduism is actually the oldest known religion in the world. It’s not about idol worship like some people think. It’s about honouring the divine in every living thing, seeking truth in all its forms, and walking a path that demands compassion, discipline, and inner growth. My gods may look different, my prayers may sound unfamiliar—but that doesn't make them less sacred.”

Her gaze stayed steady, not confrontational, but not apologetic either. “So no, I don’t go to church. And I’m not walking in darkness. I just follow a different kind of light.” She glanced toward Gavin, her expression softening. “As for your son—he’s someone I admire deeply. Not just because he stood up for me just now, but because he’s someone who questions, learns, and listens. He’s not hardened. He’s grown.”

Then, a small smile tugged at her lips, almost wistful. “You raised someone who isn’t afraid to care for someone different from him. That’s not failure. That’s strength.” She didn’t ask for understanding. She just left the truth on the table, wrapped in grace. And when Gavin opened the door and the silence swallowed the last remnants of the conversation, Ishika wished she could reach for his hand, she wanted him to know how much this moment meant to her but instead she waited, wanting to see what Mrs. Scott's next move happened to be.