#there's honestly a lot more i could write in complaining about art school but..... this is already at 2300 words so...

[a-girl-in-neverland]

Once again, im here to complain about the bridgerton subplots and changes

So spoiler for Season 3 ahead

I hated that they just cast Anthony and Kate aside. Do they really had to go RUNNING to India and couldnt wait for FRANCESCA'S WEDDING???? Hello??? Werent they the head of the family??

The intention with that is great and loving but is the showrunner allergic to having Jonathan Bailey and Simone Ashley in our screens for more than 3 minutes????

Like at that scene of the night before Polins wedding. Colin mentions that Kanthony has "come back"??? From where??? Did they run off again??

(Also i would really like to know who Edwina married and a bit of her love story)

The way in which the writers simply forgot about benedict's art/painting plot is atonishing. The build up of S1 to S2 was great, with the art school, but then in S3 is like that never happened?? Why didnt they explore more Benedict's lack of purpose or even his disappoinment with Anthony's actions?? Noooo, they just rather have him have sex with people all season long

(Before you come after me, im not critizing Benedicts sexuality, im just pissed that his character had barely nothing to do this season other than have sex, but i did enjoy a lot his scenes with eloise)

The Mondrichs plot was sooooo inconsequential and had nothing to do with any other one in the entire season. What was the point of keeping them?????

Somehow the writers in this show can make up irrelevant plots for lukewarm characters but cant come up with anything for the most beloved ones

And lastly about Michaela Stirling. So many people on twitter are fighting over this that is sickening. But lemme tell you this, all my life i had the pleasure (or better, the experience) to see many books i adore turn into movies/tv shows. Sometimes in adapting change is good, sometimes is necessary. But this change alters the whole story.

To be clear, i am NOT trying to be disrespectul, or homophobic or even mean about it. I dont mind the representation. In fact i think stories centered around LGBTQ+ leads, in this period of time, is a niche that could be much explored. Bridgerton could inspire people who belong in this community to write these stories, which is great.

However, the change of introducing Michaela completely transforms Francescas story. The second-love with the exploration of sexuality trope has great potential. But changing so greatly a story thats well known between the fans is risky to say at least.

Francescas book is not my favorite (by far actually) but it is for a lot of people, and a lot of readers have been enamoured with michael for the last 20 years, at least. So i understand if people get upset, because i would too if my favorite couple/story changed so much out of the blue

And honestly, i think this is one of the ways the show is trying to remain relevant. I AM NOT trying to say that TV should use LGBTQ+ love stories as clickbait. But be serious, the books were written as 8 straight love stories, in todays society people would be complaining if they followed if by the rule.

Anyway, Polin were wonderful. Nicola and Luke you are so so so loved, we couldnt have actors that loved their characters more

(And at this point i might be a Portia Featherington stan, she grew a lot on me)

If you read this far, i hope you have a great week and please dont come for my critics, they are not hate opinions, i just needed to rant <3

[orokukarai]

My take on the whole Mona VS Y’Gythgba debate -

"Mona doesn't mind being called it so it's fine." They are fictional characters. They do not have their own autonomy. Y’Gythgba doesn't mind being called Mona not because it's ok for someone she just met to make one half-hearted attempt to say her name before giving up, but because she was written to be okay with it.

"Lots of characters are given similar nicknames and no one complains about that so it's fine." If you're in a part of the fandom where people are saying the turtles calling Splinter 'Splinter' is romantic or ship material then I'm a little concerned. Zero of the other characters being given nicknames are meant to be seen as something romantic. They are not a case of a man deciding to call a woman a name based on a piece of art (object) made by a man (who Raph isn't even named after, Leo is asdsadsdf). Mikey (a good guy) giving a nickname (to a bad guy) is very different to Raph (a good guy) giving a patronising nickname to Y’Gythgba (a love interest) for example.

"Y’Gythgba is too hard to say" I went to school with someone called Sadiye and every new teacher would pronounce it Sadie instead of Sa-dee-yuh and she would always correct them in a tired tone of voice. People with 'unusual' names having to anglicize them for people to say their names properly/be taken seriously is a real issue. If people can learn the Campfire Song Song, tongue twisters or fantasy names, I don't see why not here. This isn't something that just happens in fiction - remember Quvenzhané Wallis?

IDK maybe it's also because my middle name is often pronounced wrong when people first hear it, but it's part of my heritage on my mother's side and one of the only connections I have with it these days. If people were to keep pronouncing it wrong or not try, it would feel disrespectful.

You can still like their relationship while acknowledging the writing there wasn't that great (I remember cringing really hard at that bit of dialogue). And wouldn't it be cooler if Y’Gythgba was insistent and unapologetic when telling people to say her name? Or if Raph kept making the effort, slipping up sure but still trying?

Again, I want to emphasise that these are fictional characters with no autonomy. Y’Gythgba is not real. She was PURPOSELY given the name Y’Gythgba and then PURPOSELY written to accept being called Mona Lisa despite the implications. Honestly they could have just made her name more similar to Mona Lisa (or maybe make it a nickname she received prior to their meeting that she has claimed for herself), which they could have done because she is a fictional character not a real person.

[spacedreamerz]

Random Pete Story.

Did I stay up until 2:00 in the morning to post an angst fanfic about Pete? Yes, I did. Do I regret it? No, I do not. I quite like how this story turned out to be honest. Considering both the character and genre were completely randomized, it came out pretty nice. I do want to give a content warning for mentions of suicide, however.

Other than that, I'm kind of an aspiring writer and I'm trying to write short stories in order to improve my writing skills. If there are any more experienced writers reading this, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

Hope you like the story!

______________________________________________________________

There was a question Peter Kowalski asked himself a lot. "Am I ungrateful?" Sure, it was a basic question. It's a simple yes or no for most. No being the most common answer, but for Pete, he honestly didn't know. There were a lot of things about him that screamed: "ungrateful." Though there were also quite a few that didn't.

He had a nice, loving mother that cared deeply about him and showed it every chance she got. While his father was often busy and wasn't one for affection, Pete knew that he was loved. The way he asked about his day and how he was. The way he'd genuinely listen and provide support for Pete whenever he got a worrying answer was enough to deduce that.

He had a nice house and a lovely bedroom that he loved to relax in. He had a big, loving family that came around during the holidays. His grades were excellent. Not only because he was naturally intelligent, but he also studied hard and it always paid off. He had an A in every class. Except for PE, that is.

He was good at art. Like, really good. He was drawing and painting better than most teenagers at the age of 7. It was one of the few things he could show off or talk about and not be embarrassed after. He wanted to be a comic book illustrator. He hasn't told too many people about that for fear of being made fun of. Even though anyone with two working eyes could see that he'd be awesome at it.

Pete often surveyed all the good in his life and felt bad quickly afterward. He felt ashamed. Guilty for all of his complaining and thoughts. Because even though he had such good things going for him, he felt worthless.

At school, everything was hell. He had no friends whatsoever. No one that he felt a connection with. No one that gave him the time of day. He always sat at the back of the class observing as people chatted along happily with their friends. Sharing interests, secrets, and emotions. Something that he never got to do with anyone. He sat alone in the cafeteria and felt embarrassed. Embarrassed that everyone could see how lonely and friendless he was. He was so tired of feeling that way that he started to avoid stepping foot in the cafeteria altogether. He just went to his dorm room to draw or read a book. Completely alone.

There were times when he was noticed. Though they weren't for good reasons. The only times he wasn't invisible was when a bully needed some money or a jock was bored of picking on nerds. He was pushed, punched, and kicked. Those things hurt of course, but they didn't hurt the worst. What hurt the worst was the insults. Being called a "freak" or "friendless." Having the bad things you thought about yourself be confirmed by other people was one of the pains in the world.

Not to mention the way people walk by or ignore everything that's happening. They just watch and laugh as you get beat to the point of unconsciousness. They ignore you as you get told to kill yourself. After a while, you start to wonder if you should.

As I said earlier, Pete hates these thoughts. They make him feel ungrateful. His family and parents all care so much for him. They risked so much just to make sure he was happy and healthy. Yet, he thought about things like suicide. He thought of himself as selfish. So, Pete tried his best to not be.

He stayed alive and lied to his parents every time they asked how he was doing. He fake smiled and laughed when it was appropriate. He went about his school days in a way that no one would notice how sad he was. That didn't take too much effort as no one paid attention to him in the first place.

Pete plans to keep doing this. Even if it starts to drive him insane, he can't hurt his parents. He doesn't want them to worry. Not after all they've done for him.

Pete's answer to his question is somewhere in the middle. If he gives in to his thoughts. If he gives up on everything and does what he's been told to do every day at school, then yes. He is ungrateful. Though if he continues his facade of happiness. If he smiles and laughs for his parents every day and goes along like everything's fine at school, then he's not. Pete often ponders about which one it'll be in the end. Truth be told, he doesn't know.

[galacticlamps]

I was tagged by @terryfphanatics​ (thanks! sorry I took forever - I started answering these & didn’t finish and just remembered it was in my drafts)

What book are you currently reading?

The Two Towers! which upsets me bc I’ve been at it since August (technically - I wasn’t ‘at it’ in, uh, October, November, December, January, or February, for lack of time - but I’m back at it now, and I even convinced myself to start over from the beginning so I didn’t forget anything)

What's your favourite movie you saw in a cinema this year?

sorry but the last time I went to a movie theater was probably in 2017, 2018 at the latest, so... yeah I’ve got nothing

What do you usually wear?

jeans, boots, at this point in the winter usually some combination of flannels, sweaters and/or sweatshirts. (I’ve been really cold lately)

How tall are you?

5′6″ ish

What's your star sign?

capricorn

Do you share your birthday with a celebrity or historical event?

I do, yeah

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

mostly nicknames, I have quite a few at this point. I’ve yet to pick one to use on here, I should probably do that soon, I’ve been meaning to for years now

Did you grow up to be what you wanted to be as a child?

I don’t recall ever wanting to be anything in particular as a child, honestly, but I can say that so far I’ve pretty much stuck to the career path that first caught my interest in high school, if that counts

Are you in a relationship? Who is your crush if not?

nope! and it’s been a very long time since I’ve had a serious crush either, which I’m honestly grateful for. I wouldn’t want to be in a relationship at this exact point in my life anyway, so I’m just gonna keep vaguely admiring every funny girl who’s kind to me for the time being without actually developing feelings for her. I hope It seems to be going well so far mostly

What's something you're good at versus something you're bad at?

(I’m trying to think of two that relate to each other)

I am very good at drawing objects and not at all good at drawing people! technical plans are something I’ve dealt with extensively both academically & professionally, but in the more general sense I’ve always been an ‘I can’t draw’ person. tbh I should find some of those artists who complain about backgrounds and just do all their architecture etc for them

Dogs or cats?

nothing against dogs but cats for sure, always cats

What's something you'd like to create content for?

not to sound like a jerk, but I work in the arts industry & really hate the place ‘content creation’ has come to occupy in everyone’s vocabulary, even though I totally realize that in a context like this it’s probably just trying to be a vague enough term to be inclusive of the many different things people can create. I like writing the fanfic that I do, so without switching subjects, I would like to get better at drawing people because sometimes I have ideas that would be better expressed as images or even short comics

What's something you're currently obsessed with?

Obsessing over 60s who is my baseline so I don’t think that counts - but it’s been almost a month since I watched Holding Achilles & there have only been hours when I didn’t think of it, not entire days

What's something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

Ngl, (& not to be a total downer, but) the last 12 months-ish have been an extremely busy/hectic/unpredictable year for me, with both the good & the bad stuff coming out of left field most of the time. So while there were certainly more than enough disappointments, for the most part, they weren’t the kinds of things you could be excited about beforehand (relatives dying, people fighting, strained relationships, illnesses, work stuff in a perpetual state of flux - or as I’ve taken to calling it: death disease & dubious employment). I suppose there were a lot of events I wanted to make it to that I didn’t, due to the aforementioned junk, and I certainly imagined myself getting to read more books & write more fics than I did, but that doesn’t feel like a good specific answer.

What's a hidden talent of yours?

I suppose that depends who you ask? There are lots of work or work-adjacent skills I could name that would be news to people on here, but those are such prominent parts of my life otherwise that they definitely don’t feel ‘hidden.’ But I guess even among people who expect me to be handy/crafty, more overtly artistic things tend to surprise them - like I’ve had people forget that I was the one who painted something, for instance, because that’s not the kind of skill most associate with me. (and I am very good with color & pigment tbh)

Are you religious?

nah. I’m not like, a committed atheist or anything either, I just grew up catholic & don’t go in for that anymore, nor do I have any desire to go seek out another faith

What's something you wish to have at this moment?

time uh, let’s say a haircut

tagging people kinda seems rude after taking multiple months to come up with so many kind of non-answers oops, but if anyone would like to copy the questions, either as an opportunity to do a little q&a or an excuse to tag/ask your friends, be my guest

[komilys]

originally from proselfshiptember, day 10: autumn

summer passing by ; garroth ro’meave/kyi

or… in which garroth recounts his memories of an old family friend the night before his sophomore year and talks about his affinity for leaves for a little too long.

⌒ ᡣ𐭩 ・ 。

he’d never been away from his brothers, o’khasis had such a large main school, harbouring students from grade three to twelve, and the idea of being separated from them had an uneasy feeling settling in his gut.

not that he couldn’t handle being alone— no, he could. zane and vylad couldn’t, though.

but phoenix drop high seemed like a nice school. maybe not the best, but who was he to complain? besides, he knew he wouldn’t be alone at least.

his mom had mentioned kyi earlier, apparently when he’d transferred out of o’khasis years ago the boy had gone to the pheonix drop high’s school district. it took garroth a moment to recall who his mom was talking about— because honestly ‘the magicks kid, you remember?’ wasn’t super clear.

but he remembered kyi.

when they were younger, kyi was the kid zane would always play with in the summer; zane hated the heat and kyi was always sick. when vylad was having trouble with his reading and writing, he was the one to help him out. he’d stay over a lot over summer break, always somewhere around the ro’meave residence.

he hated garroth.

it started when he was six and kyi was five, when they’d first met (at least that he could remember). the bridge between summer and autumn, when temperatures just start to drop and the cinnamony-pumpkin scent begins to fill every corner of every room you walked into.

garroth loved autumn. he loved seeing the leaves change as they gently fall into a puddle, watching the water ripple so big and then into nothing again. he loved the autumn sweets and warm drinks, preferring the cozy comfort they provided compared to the usually-too-cold-for-him summer delicacies.

kyi, apparently, did not feel the same. his sickness peaked, and he hated the uncomfortable clothes and overwhelming smells, and the quote… scary halloween aisles, end quote.

.

“you don’t like halloween?”

kyi shrugged, endlessly turning the sippy cup in his hands. “uuu-hhm, i do,” he looked up garroth for a second before quickly going back to his juice. “i was a princess last year.”

garroth seemed to ignore everything kyi said. “you hate halloween?!” he was loud. his voice and the way he moved was loud, dramatically slamming his small hands on the play table.

and kyi stayed quiet. his caretaker always said: if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all!— and telling garroth he was dumb and too loud didn’t seem very nice to kyi.

he didn’t seem to pick it up though, continuing to pester the younger kid with questions. kyi waited for his parents to come back, hopefully before he did something he’d be scolded for.

“oh!” garroth jumped up from his pillow seat. “oh, zane really really really likes halloween.” he went for his cubby of art supplies. “gonna draw a pun..pumkie.”

komi squinted. “pumpkin.”

“pumkie is more gooder.”

“it’s wrong.”

“nooo-oo-oo…” his voice faded out, his focus shifting to the pretty warm hues and orange shades that littered his crayon box.

and then, as quick as they had met, kyi decided he didn’t like garroth at all. kids made enemies as quick as they made friends. maybe even quicker.

.

autumn was inching closer now, even if september was a week away, garroth felt it. soon he’d be able to see the leaves change from their summer greens to the vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows he adored. he wondered if phoenix drop high had a view like the o’khasis courtyards.

there was a large area in the center of the high school area that he thought was the best view. he’d only been able to sneak in a few times before he was a freshman, and he immediately fell in love with it. he’d stay there for his entire breaks, smiling up at the contrast of the lovely gradients of the leaves against the dim, cloudy sky. maybe his classmates thought the sight was depressing, but garroth couldn’t think that.

when he was a kid he wondered if the leaves fell because they were so sad the rest of the world liked summer more. it was embarrassing, and he used to talk to them because he wondered if they were lonely like him. his father laughed at him when he’d first said it, and then garroth learned to keep quiet about his thoughts.

if he were being honest, he didn’t miss much from o’khasis prep. certainly not the people or teachers, he didn’t think there was a single kind person there, and he wouldn’t miss the workload and stress that accompanied it at all. (he hoped going to a public school meant there would be less work).

but he’d miss his spot. and he’d miss the trees. o’khasis had the prettiest trees, he thought.

garroth checked the clock. 9:51 P.M.

his mom gave him kyi’s number earlier and he’d already put it in his contacts. it was his first year there too— though he was a freshman and garroth would be a sophomore, his mom and kyi’s parents had agreed he’d show garroth around.

he hadn’t seen kyi since seventh grade, three years. he knew he had friends— real friends, not like garroth’s friends— but he wondered if there was any room for him. kyi didn’t like garroth, he already knew that since they were kids, but he was lonely. he was lonely and he would take a childhood family acquaintance over the melancholy awkwardness of being the new kid at a new school. people had their groups by now, and garroth would just barging in.

are you awake? he wondered, and he glanced at his phone. garroth thoughts about how kyiwould look at him. he couldn’t seem to remember how it was, and words like kind or mean seemed too simple to describe it. maybe he was over-complicating it, maybe it was his nerves overthinking it.

he unlocked his phone. he wondered: do you still hate autumn?

[brianil]

Open letter to all the Anjali I know

hey, It became awkward as soon as I started, Picture this "hey" as someone trying to say hello but nothing comes out of mind then suddenly remember some movie or web series here the person's brain malfunctions.

Well, i had this when i just started to write this letter. i have a lot to work on and first is talking to another gender of the human species. There is not much emotion left in me besides some memories with these humans and still, it is hard to write one. I don't know how I will face one.

here we go :

Hii role no. 6 or 5 well, i remember you being a seat ahead of me in school exams. Funny thing, that's the most prominent memory I have of you. Even when I recently connected with you, It is embarrassing for me to say that I did not think you would be a teacher or sort of, Technically I did not think about myself why would I think about others but well, Those days were good too. I don't know how you felt about the time I said no, but I felt despaired when I went through that. I believe I was a bit easy after some time, but I felt karma hitting me back, well pandemic let me through so I can't complain much and obviously if I had studied. You were a jolly person at the time if I remember well, and seeing your stories looks like you still are.

I guess this is the end from my side. Hope you do what you love and or love what you do, May destiny be with you. your one seat behind alien or something, haha

hii, chess prodigy well, i believe your name is also the same as the previous one. we went to the same chess event, I think it was also my first ever chess event and where my eyes were opened for the first time, how small my pond was. I am still learning the art of writing letters, so if you find some words or sentences in gibberish, believe they were gibberish. Honestly, i was a bit weirded out by the no. of participants in the girl's chess event and felt a bit bad about why. Well those questions don't matter anymore and i wish you kept playing chess.

Not much to remember, i guess, hope you are doing well. tada

hello anjali, you know the funny thing, I just realised I have conversed with people more often whom I have either never met in life or just seen them once/twice in life. you are one of them. That also makes you the person somehow I have more memories of, however, they were. As I do write a letter twice a month so I won't talk here hehe,

So, have a great day. adios

would you like to guess the last person's full name?

well she also shares the same name as the first two's and somewhat more awkward memories. At the very least I said bye on the scribble day. And funny enough that's the most proper conversation I had with her,

so once again hii,

guten morgan, wie geht's? ich bin bien! bis spater: Auf wiedersehen adios brianil

hehe, i mean even if i could converse more, I would still need to learn more german. I guess that's all the anjali's I ever met in life till now.

bye.

[not-xpr-art]

Art Advice #8 - Is Art School worth it?

Hi folks!

For my next Art Advice blogpost (go here for my previous ones) I want to talk about my experiences with ‘art education’/’art school’, and whether I think it was worth it... 

Just a note, I’ve done roughly 6 years of practical art education (not including the general art classes I did as a child in school). And I also want to acknowledge that I know I’m immensely privileged to have even been given the chance at an art education. So even though this essay will be critical of the system and my experience, know that I still do appreciate that I was given this opportunity! 

(this is about 2300 words long, by the way... oops...)

Is Art School/Art Education worth it? 

I don’t think it’s surprising to learn that art was one of my favourite subjects in school. Especially from the ages of 8 to 14, I adored it, and also revelled in the fact that I was actually above averagely good at it as well! 

But then GCSE art (ages 15-16) happened and... that opinion did begin to change somewhat lol. 

I’m now going to go (as briefly as I can) over how art is ‘taught’ in the schools/colleges I’ve been to because I appreciate that my experience isn’t universal, and other countries might have a different system!

In most classes what would happen is we would be given a theme at the beginning of the term, something like ‘journeys’ or ‘time’ or vague things like that which can be interpreted in a variety of ways. And throughout the classes we would be assigned specific artists to research and then base a work of our own on (so, for example, if the artist was Claude Monet, then we would be expected to go and paint something in his style that ties into the theme for that specific term). Other classes would be spent working on different techniques and mediums. So, things like still life drawing, printmaking, painting, etc. 

As the term goes on, you are then expected to do your own research for artists and develop your ideas for the theme individually (although teachers will always be lurking the background to offer you ‘advice’). And eventually this will lead to you doing a final ‘Final Piece’ which sums up all of your ideas for the specific theme for that term, including the research and experimentation you did along the way. How you’re expected to present this research is through sketchbooks, which leads me to my first issue when it comes to the way art education is taught. 

Sketchbooks

In literally every institution I’ve been in to do art, teachers will gather everyone together at the start of the school year and show you a selection of sketchbooks made by past students. 

Now, these sketchbooks are usually works of art in themselves. Every page is coloured and full of interesting images and patterns, the writing is easy to read and thoughtful, and overall these sketchbooks tie perfectly into your project and your final pieces. And of course, the fact that there are previous examples of sketchbooks that do this really well, it’s obviously something that does work for some people.

However...

If you’re anything like me, trying to make my sketchbook look good on top of doing a good final piece (and on top of all the non-art related subjects you have to do in school) meant that either my sketchbook looked amazing but the final piece was mediocre, or vice versa... 

I truly believe forcing all art students to do a particular type of sketchbook, when a lot of us would’ve much rather have focused on the final pieces for the project, excludes a lot of people who would otherwise excel in art. And the way that art is marked means that if your sketchbook doesn’t live up to this standard, then you will automatically be marked down. 

The only project where I felt I was truly allowed to make a sketchbook exactly how I wanted to make it was in my last year of college when I did a self portrait project on women artists in history (there’s some examples of it floating around my blog if you’re interested, by the way). And because of the nature of my project being very researched based, I wasn’t expected to keep a really ‘prettified’ sketchbook, which allowed me the freedom to focus on my final pieces and the overall message I was going for!

This isn’t even to mention the fact that you’re marked on how good your literacy skills are in your sketchbooks (which does feel incredibly ridiculous for a subject like art... like... I enjoy writing essays about art because that’s just who I am, but I know a lot of artistic people don’t enjoy that, and feel like their contributions to art aren’t as ‘important’ just because they can’t write 1000s of words about it...).

Essentially, sketchbooks can be very useful to artists, especially if you’re working on one particular project over a period of time. BUT, the generalised high expectations of how a sketchbook should look for everyone in a class, despite the fact that art is supposed to allow its students to be individuals, leads to people feeling like they have failed. 

Grading

A few days ago I woke up at like 1am thinking about how ridiculous it is that art is even a subject that’s graded at all, particularly in early education (so, ages 8-14). We all know that art is subjective, so having anyone be the judge of whether you ‘did the art right’ has never sat right with me. 

I was always predicted high grades in art, but I rarely met them (not that I did badly). And in a way, I always felt that my art education journey was me creating things which I thought my teachers would want to see. (Also important to note that I procrastinated a lot of my school art because I was much more interested in doing fanart, which wasn’t something we were allowed to do in art education but... more about that later lol).

The thing is, I understand that exam boards believe that grades are the only way to motivate students, and that no one will want to do a subject if they can’t aim for that illusive A*... But ultimately, after university, grades are literally meaningless lol. The most that employers will want to see is that you passed basic Maths and English. Other than that, grades literally only serve to push you  into higher education. 

I’ve known so many students work themselves half to death to get a good grade in a subject, only to end up in the same unemployed train as the rest of us when they leave university. So really, all grades do, particularly in subjects like art, is remove all the creativity and interest out of the subject, since they become so focused on fulfilling a dumb grade rather than enjoying themselves! 

It wasn’t all bad...

So, since I’ve been pretty negative so far, I wanted to take a little break to talk about the good things about art school/education!

Being taught basic art related things is definitely something I’ve taken for granted. Things like proportions, the colour wheel, how to use certain mediums, even things like specific artistic terminology! One of the main reasons why I wanted to do these art advice posts was the fact that I was given this amazing knowledge through art education and I wanted to be able to share what little I know with people who perhaps weren’t given that opportunity! 

Another positive is being around like-minded people! You can bounce ideas off each other, give each other advice or constructive criticism, compliment each other’s work, etc! All things that feel so much better when they come from fellow artistic people! Even having a teacher who’s on the same page as you about things is such a breath of fresh air! (Although not my university art teacher... f*ck that racist twat lol)

Something else is that you’re actively encouraged to use a wide range of materials and mediums which are supplied to you! You also have access to a lot of hightech or specialised equipment that you wouldn’t usually be able to get to use! (this of course depends on whereabouts your school is or how much money they are given to spend on things like the arts, as I said before, I can only speak of my own experience...the area I grew up in wasn’t particularly affluent, but we were offered a lot of things that I know schools in other parts of even this country wouldn’t have been so... again, just pointing out that art education IS a privilege!!!)

There are probably other things too, but overall there were a lot of aspects of art education which I genuinely loved. Unfortunately, the things that I didn’t love were the things that ended up sticking in my mind a lot more...

“Be creative! ... wait not like that!?!?”

Ok so, story time (I may have spoken about this before, but it’s important and it still makes me mad so...).

In my 2nd year of college, we were given the theme of ‘secrets/fantasy/lies/etc’. And in the first class of that term, our teacher started listing things we could do for the theme (it was just vague ideas). (I ended up doing something based on dreams and the subconscious, by the way). But something that stuck with me was what our teacher told us NOT to do. Namely, we were “advised” to not do something with fairies or other fantastical creatures, basically anything that could be seen as more ‘decorative’. 

And although I had no interest in doing fairies or anything like that, it really bugged me even then that they were so against students doing something like that. I think their reasoning was that they wanted a wide range of ideas coming from the theme, and if they allowed more ‘generic’ takes on the theme then it wouldn’t make for an interesting end of year exhibition. Of course, this idea forgets that even if everyone decided to do fairies for that theme, everyone’s take on fairies would be slightly different. 

Another reasoning I think they may have had for saying this is that art education exam boards want art that ‘challenges’ stereotypes or whatnot, they want their students to think outside of the box and do something with a more ‘thought-provoking meaning’. And I do get this, but at the same time it insinuates that a student having picked a theme like fairies wouldn’t be able to somehow give that a greater symbolic meaning? 

(There’s also a whole other discussion of why art education is so fixated on art with deeper meaning when most art in history is pretty surface level or decorative but... that’s for another day lol)

In telling students to ‘be creative’ but only allowing them to be creative in a way that the teacher dictates because that’s what the exam board want just... doesn’t sit well with me... 

It also opens up judgment from teachers who maybe have a bias against or for a particular subject matter. And if you end up doing a project about something that a teacher doesn’t understand because it doesn’t fit into their ideas of creativity, then you’ll end up getting marked down for it, or coerced into doing something you don’t want to do just in order to appease them!

The layout of the courses

The final point I want to talk about ties a bit to all of the others, and it’s specifically the way the courses are laid out in art school. 

I already described a bit of what you’re expected to do, but what I missed out was the way that literally every art teacher described it as:

~a Journey~

They were obsessed with the idea of going from research to experimentation to final piece in a neat line of progression that was so perfectly documented in your sketchbook. This ‘journey’ of how you got from one idea to another, a journey that was so stupidly fabricated because so much of it was stuff you were forced to do by your teachers. 

Every decision you made you were made to document and explain, and every single time I wanted to write ‘I did this stupid print of a shoe because my teacher told me to!’ because at least that was true!

Forcing students to fulfil this bizarre ‘artistic journey’ particularly for people like me who ‘think of an idea, do some sketches and research for the idea, do the final piece for the idea, and then move on to something else because I’m not bored of said idea’ is just so so dumb! 

And all it exists for is to make sure students get that good grades in order to boost the reputations of the schools and colleges so they can get more funding... At the end of the day, if your art has a journey and fulfils all of the ridiculous expectations of teachers or exam boards, then that’s great. But there’s a large portion of artistic people who don’t fit into this category and who get left out just because they’re not living up to what a ‘good’ art student is like!

Conclusion

I’ve complained a lot in this post, I know... I also want to emphasise that this is all my own experience and I know that a lot of people will have very different ideas about this... 

But I suppose after all this you’re probably wondering if I’d recommend going to art school, or taking art subjects in any part of your school life...

And... Honestly I can’t really answer that. 

If you’re someone who loves art, and wants to do art as a career, or just want to improve your own skills, then you’re probably going to take any opportunity to do it, regardless of what one person says on the internet lol. 

I’d also reiterate that it’s honestly an amazing privilege to even be offered the chance of doing 6+ years of art education, and it was definitely worth it just because I was able to use almost entire massive tube of oil paint without having to buy it myself (amongst other things, of course).

I just hope that any young people who see this can get a better idea of what art education CAN be like, and that it isn’t always going to live up to your own expectations of it!

~

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while, but I’ve been hesitant because I don’t want to come across as too whiny... 

But honestly my experiences in art education were SO close to making me give up on art entirely, which would’ve sucked because I really have nothing else going for me lol (that’s... mostly a joke by the way...) 

And if I can help someone get a better understanding of what the art education system CAN be like, particularly here in the UK, then hopefully my Struggles were worth it lol!

As always, if you have any questions about anything I’ve written about, feel free to ask! 

And a massive thank you to everyone who supports me, my art & these posts <3

[stillalittlelostngl]

Academic Rivals to Lovers(ish) - Gojo/Reader HCs

Inspired by the below tweet - didn't mention reader crying here but ya that probably ended up happening at some point lol. Are these HCs or just the outline of a story? Is there really a difference?

Also - I only had one lab in college that I always skipped so idk how those things go down and i only have the stories my friends would tell me to go off of. so there's that disclaimer. Also gojo is kinda classist

Being a first gen college student meant that you probably took your just a tad more seriously than your peers. You had your family counting on you to do well after all - for as long as you could remember your family had stressed the importance of academic success. They had been obsessed with the idea of you being the first in the family of blue collar working class folk to get into university and become a doctor or a lawyer or some paper pusher in an office. Hell they didn’t even complain when you said you might be interested in majoring in studio art or theater. They didn’t particularly care what you decided to study when you got there - they were just concerned with you getting in and doing well in whatever you studied. You didn’t entirely understand their insistence but it meant a lot to them and so it meant a lot to you by extension and you’d do your best to make them proud. 

You first noticed Gojo at orientation. You hadn’t learned much about him outside of him being some spoiled legacy student who had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and a family who had sent him to the best boarding schools money could buy. The jealousy had stung ngl - how was it fair that everything in life was handed to him while you and your parents were working double shifts to pay your tuition because the scholarships would never cover as much as the university was asking for

You didn’t think much of him. He came off as a loud and haughty air head and you just didn’t have time to entertain that sorta thing. 

Truthfully Gojo probably doesn’t even remember this first meeting - your face blended in with the rest of the incoming freshman class so easily and he’d never seen or heard your name before in his circle so you must not have been all that important 

Ultimately you decided to major in a pretty competitive field. The upperclassmen had told you horror stories about students fighting over internships and jobs in the labs, trying to sabotage each other's grades, cheating, etc. etc. It was a dog eat dog world you were entering but you had faith you could survive 4 years. They’d be over and done before you noticed.

Boy had you been wrong. The upperclassmen had been very tame with their description of what the next few years of your life would look like tbh. Countless sleepless nights filled with study sessions, researching and writing essays along with the cattiness of the student body that was constantly at each other’s throats and kissing professors’ asses to try and get ahead. You had put a target on your back after the first test was handed back - your peers had been pissed because by getting a perfect score on the test the teacher decided to not curve it. The one who seemed the most annoyed by this had been Gojo and he never let you forget it.

Honestly Gojo was pissed that someone was better than him at something - even if it was just one test during his first semester of uni. He was used to being on top and to be bested by someone like you left a sour taste in his mouth.

He couldn’t understand how you did it. Half the stuff on that test hadn’t even been discussed in class - this teacher was notorious for being difficult and not that good of a teacher so the class always relied on there being a curve. When he got his piss poor grade back he had been furious. It wasn’t as bad as some of his other classmates but it wasn’t the best. When he learned it was your fault he had that grade he became a man obsessed.

He had begun asking others about you that day and learned everything he could. Your background, your schedule, your study habits, what dorm you stayed in - he wanted to know all of it in hopes of cracking the code of how you bested him.

When he still couldn’t figure it out he tried approaching you - maybe you had an older student give you answers to all the tests for that class and perhaps you’d be generous enough to share.

“Oh well something the professor said during the lecture got me thinking so I kinda fell down a google rabbit hole to see what I could find. Just got lucky that it was on the test i guess”

And Gojo was pissed. Of course it had just been luck that allowed you to get the better of him. He wanted to laugh at himself for ever thinking differently. When you grades continued to go head to head with his each time assignments and tests came back he had to accept that maybe it wasn’t just luck 

The two of you became a source of entertainment to your classmates. They would make bets on which one of you would score higher. Gojo would do nothing but encourage it. Anytime he managed to get the top score he’d make sure to shoot you an irritating smirk and offer some faux condolences with a “maybe next time”. It never failed to get under your skin.

It was like everything he did was to try and annoy you. Hell even his appearance was enough to piss you off. Of course he's the type to wear sunglasses indoors - what a pretentious asshole. You usually didn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he bothered you but your friends would sure hear an earful of whatever it did that got you wound up on any given day. 

When the both of you had been paired as lab partners you were convinced you must've pissed off some deity in a past life or something. You couldn't imagine a worse fate than having to sit next to him for at least an hour every week. The lab required cooperation and while initially you had tried to spearhead the whole operation Gojo wasn’t about to take that sitting down.

It all came to a head one day when he was trying to tell you what you were doing wrong for an experiment (you weren’t doing anything wrong tbh he just wanted to see you get worked up)

“Look, if you have such an issue with me I can just ask the professor to assign us different partners. I’m not going to keep going back and forth with you like this.”

“I don’t have an issue with you - who said I had an issue with you?” 

“Please, since day one you judged me and have been acting like I’m too stupid to be here - you think I don’t hear what you and your little friends have been saying?”

Gojo wanted to deny it but knew you were right on the money. After that first test came back he had been so wrapped up in his anger that he said some…less than savory things about you to his friends and a few others who had been hanging around them. He knew folks talked but hadn’t expected it to get back to you. He isn’t sure why it felt like his stomach dropped when he found out you knew though. 

“Despite all your efforts to look down on me from your little pedestal I’m still doing just as good as you are. You being an asshole isn’t going to change that.” 

You left shortly after - uncaring if it meant you’d do poorly on the graded lab but you couldn’t stand to be there around him anymore. He could have this win if it meant you wouldn’t have to be stuck in his presence for a moment longer. 

Gojo’s a pretty out of touch guy so you confronting him kinda sparked some introspection on his end (or about as much introspection as he’s capable of). The following days had him acting differently - a bit quieter than normal and he would discourage classmates from making bets or egging you on with the little competition the two of you had going. You almost felt bad - maybe calling him an asshole was taking it too far? It’s not like you hadn’t spoken shit about him to your friends either after all. 

You were dreading the next lab. In all your other classes you could avoid him and sit on opposite sides of the lecture hall. The lab would have you forced to interact for at least 60 minutes and you could only imagine how awful that was going to go. 

You were surprised when he started the lab off with an apology - in the few years you had somewhat known him you’d never known him to be one to apologize to anyone and you’d never dream he’d be apologizing to you of all people. 

He doesn’t go into heavy detail any you don’t ask him to but you learn that he’s also under a lot of pressure from his family. Everyone in his immediate and extended family have gone on to do great things and his family is constantly pressing him to do even better than they did - he got caught up and ended up taking his frustration out on you. 

You find yourself apologizing too. You had been judgemental of him from the start too and played into the competition more than you’d like to admit. 

The lab had gone on pretty smoothly after that - you two were one of the first groups done since you weren’t bickering between each other. As you were packing up to leave Gojo asked if you’d like to study with him sometime for an upcoming final. You were a bit nervous about it but accepted anyways, excited that the two of you were turning over a new leaf and wondering where exactly this would go 

______

in thee nsfw version y'all fucked in the study room like the depraved folks y'all are idk

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[join-the-club-weve-got-jackets]

Some Thoughts on Cobra Kai and Writing

Just something I've been thinking about since watching the new season yesterday. This would probably be more coherent if I wasn't writing on my phone, but here we go.

Even though my own stories stay in my head rather than put on paper, I really love writing and the art of (good) storytelling. I will take a character-driven story over some flashy, hollow, plot-driven story any day of the week. You obviously need a plot and setting to tell the story, and a good one certainly can elevate a story to a new level, but characters are what people connect to. So many shows today have gotten so plot-driven and have so many characters, that it's just one thing after another happening with no down time to give the characters any chance to meaningfully react to these events. Or there are just too many characters to balance in the first place, so some of them get the shaft. And so many people will complain about filler episodes where they say nothing happens. But honestly I would love it for so many of my shows to just have that down time and those quiet moments where the characters get to react, to talk, to spend time together, and just to be.

Cobra Kai seems to be going down that same route as so many of the other shows I've loved. It's all about amping everything up

and bringing in new people and having the plot drive the characters rather than the characters driving the plot. They leave out so many important character/transitional/reactionary moments in the story. There'll either be some throwaway line about something important or it's just never mentioned because we're just supposed to assume some details. And like I get that not everything needs to be shown, or can be shown due to the constrictions of the medium. But it just makes things feel so much more shallow and unearned and takes some of my interest out of the story.

This season, for example, had a lot of ups and downs. I'm still processing everything so I'm not here to give my full analysis or judgment on the season. But one thing I really liked was the moments where we got to see the kids just hanging out and talking again outside of any training or karate wars. They just got to do teen stuff again. It took me back to the better, simpler days of seasons 1 and 2 where karate was an integral aspect of the show, but it wasn't the whole show. It was a story about the two guys from TKK as adults and how they connect to a new generation of kids, with karate being the thing that brought them together. The show back then cared so much more about the story they were telling and the characters they were bringing/returning to life. And you could see that in the simple moments of the characters just hanging out and talking and having time and space to react to things.

Most of my examples here are gonna be about Robby since he's my favorite. So many details of his story are just left out or treated as unimportant in these last few seasons. We're just supposed to assume and be told things rather than actually see them. Back in season 4, they show nothing about his living situation beyond showing he was still sleeping at the dojo in ep 1. Then in ep 8 we get Shannon coming out of nowhere talking about Robby living with her now. Like we saw nothing about Shannon getting out of rehab, her going to get Robby, her reaction to his living situation, or even Robby moving back in with her. They didn't even get a scene together. Seasons 1 and 2 did a good job showing us how shitty Robby's home life was, because they actually cared about those details back then. But now we get next to nothing. That goes for his schooling too.

Now in season 5, we still didn't get any sort of interaction between Robby and Shannon, or a scene between them and Johnny, which has never happened on the show. We didn't get to see anything about how Johnny asked Robby and Shannon about the Mexico trip. On a side note, we also get some lame cop-out reason for why Carmen didn't go find Miguel herself. Or why she should trust her dumbass bf who doesn't even speak the language to go get her son. But her characterization is a whole other problem I don't have time to go into. We got like a very brief, superficial moment of Johnny apologizing to Robby. But that's it. They don't have any deep, meaningful conversations about mending their relationship beyond that...at least not on screen. We're just supposed to assume everything's okay now and Robby's all good and just gonna accept everything now. As if he was the problem in their relationship. It's just erasing the whole story they've told and giving Johnny a free pass on all the BS he's put Robby through.

After Mexico, we never get to see the obviously tense and awkward ride home with Johnny, Robby, and now Miguel. We're just told it was a quiet ride home. We don't get to see Robby's reaction to staying with Johnny for the summer rather than going to his (previously unmentioned) grandparents' cabin with Shannon. There's nothing showing us how Robby reacted when he came into Johnny's apartment and saw how much he'd cleaned it up and wondering why. And even though I'm pretending this storyline isn't happening, we get such an OOC reaction from Robby (and everyone but Johnny) about the baby. You're telling me this kid who felt thrown away by his dad his whole life, who has wanted nothing more than his dad's love and attention, and who is just finally at the start of mending their relationship, isn't going to have some conflicting feelings about this? He's just automatically happy? And just the way Johnny went about telling the boys too. If they were gonna go that route, the right thing for Johnny to do as a parent would be to sit Robby down and have a real conversation between the two of them about how he's feeling. But that would involve Johnny caring about Robby as a person and for Robby to be allowed to have actual, realistic feelings that aren't just rage or easy acceptance, which the writers aren't doing anymore.

Then just one of the last things that bothered me writing/character-wise was toward the last scene with everyone outside of the CK dojo. Now I am not a parent, and don't ever intend to be one, but like my first reaction to that scene would be rushing to find my kid. You know they were just in this huge, dangerous fight. There are cops and ambulances on site. My first priority would be finding my kid to check on them and see if they're okay. I get that some of the adults also needed urgent medical attention. But besides that, I don't think we see a single interaction between any of the parents and their kids. It's all just adult interactions and then kid interactions. When what I wanna see is an obviously beat-up Johnny, pushing away the other adults trying to get him to an ambulance, because he needs to see Robby first and make sure he's okay.

I know that may be nitpicky, but it's realistic and it's the small kind of details that I like to see in the characters and relationships I care about. There are actors who will give us these little moments on their own even when the script doesn't, and I appreciate that to no end. But when we don't get these realistic reactions or interactions in the actual writing, it just takes me right out of the story. I want to see those looks between/toward other characters, the signs of affection (physical or otherwise) that people in those relationships would have. It just goes so much more towards creating characters we love and can root for. So like stop trying to up the ante and just go back to making the story about the characters please.

[a-supernatural-writer]

hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O 

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

[tanoraqui]

There actually are enough good fics about postcanon tentative reforging of assorted pairs and even the whole of the Gusu Summer School No Brain Cell Trio to satisfy my niche itch, so pls enjoy these stray snippets of a fic I don't have to write:

Nothing would've happened if the cultivation conference wasn't at Cloud Recesses. But it was, Cloud Recesses with its pale stone and gracefully winding walkways and too many memories, including Lan Xichen sitting the whole thing out in seclusion somewhere... If it'd been at the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang would've been busy and if it'd been at Carp Tower the memories only would've been manageably bad, and if it was Lotus Pier or one of many smaller sects, it would've been...fine. Just fine.

But it was Cloud Recesses this year, this first conference since Jin Guangyao's downfall, and specifically it was half past ten at night, and Nie Huaisang was wandering the elegant pathways with a mostly full jar of wine in one hand. The previous jar, now entirely empty, had been left back in his room. He was a Nie, so he was only half as drunk as he'd always used to pretend at these things - but at least twice as drunk as he'd ever actually been.

After da-ge's death, of course. Before that, he used to get plenty drunk. Playfully drunk. With friends.

It would be a terrible idea for him to go appear on Lan Xichen's doorstep. Neither of them was ready for that yet.

So he appeared on Jiang Cheng's.

[ . . . ]

"Fine." Nie Huaisang pouted and turned. "I'll go ask Wei-xiong - "

And Jiang Cheng was easy, he was so easy, he'd always been easy, the only new thing is the faintest edge of wariness to his fury -

He grabbed Nie Huaisang's elbow in a flash and snapped, "Ugh, fine, I'll go - but I'm holding the wine."

Nie Huaisang laughed and handed it over. Jiang Cheng immediately took a deep swig.

[ . . . ]

It must've been a quiet night at the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian's sleeping robes didn't look the least bit hastily pulled on, and his lips were only the slightest bit red and puffy.

[ . . . ]

[for the record, this takes place in a book-show postcanon fusion wherein immediately post-Guanyin Temple, WWX and LWJ ran off to fuck in the bushes at least once a day for as long as possible, but in their absence, various sect leaders voted that Lan Wangji should be Chief Cultivator now, and alas some messenger caught up with them about six months into their honeymoon. Definitely caught them in flagrante delicto. Tragic for all. I’d probably communicate all this hereish somehow. It was definitely NHS who finally tipped someone off on how to actually find them.]

[ . . . ]

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Wei Wuxian said, with a lidded look at Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang burst into a giggles because the two most unequivocally lethal people he knew were afraid to leave each other alone with him, and it was satisfying to be recognized but also what's he going to do, personally? Cry at them? It'd taken him years to destroy Jin Guangyao, and at this point it'd take him months, if not years again to re-destroy the Yiling Patriarch, much less Sandu Shengshou. Especially when they both kept doing things like watching each others backs while pretending they weren't.

[ . . . ]

"Of course we need more!" Wei Wuxian declared. "This isn't even Emperor's Smile!"

[ . . . ]

"It's just a rat or something," Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"So?!" Wei Wuxian cried grandly. "Are we not noble cultivators? Is it not our duty to investigate this woman's complaint, and to slay whatever monster plagues her good inn’s wonderful cellar, whether deathly or monstrous or rodential it be?" He turned to Nie Huaisang and begged, "Help me out, Nie-xiong. You agree with me, right?"

Nie Huaisang clutched his cup against his chest, eyes wide, and shook his head in sharp jerks. "I don't know! I don't know!"

Wei Wuxian laughed and elbowed him in the side.

[ . . . ]

[while waiting for Wei Wuxian to send some sort of signal]

"You know I don't bear any grudge against Jin Ling, right?"

Jiang Cheng's impatient glare snapped to him, darkening with threat; his hand shifted on Sandu's hilt toward a drawing position. "What?"

"I don't bear any sort of grudge against Jin Ling," Nie Huaisang repeated, holding only the last jar of Emperor's Smile. "That's why you've been side-eyeing me all night, right? All conference." He took another sip (it really was the best!) and added recklessly, "If I wanted Jin Ling dead and disgraced, or all Carp Tower burned to ash, they already would be."

Sandu slid an inch out of its scabbard and Nie Huaisang watch it with fascinated curiosity. From a greater distance, he wondered if that was entirely healthy.

"What about Lotus Pier?" Jiang Cheng asked abruptly.

It took Nie Huaisang a blinking moment to focus on him.

"What about Lotus Pier?"

Jiang Cheng sat beside him on the cold earth and yanked the jar out of his hands, cruelly before Nie Huaisang could take another sip.

"Where's your grand terrible vengeance against me and mine? I get it, but if you're being honest for once right now, you could at least tell me when it's going to hit, and how."

"What?" Nie Huaisang pushed himself against his tree trunk, genuinely confused. "Why would i have a terrible vengeance planned against you?"

"I benefitted from Nie Mingjue's death, didn't I?" Jiang Cheng took another swig of wine of his own, and swung the jar illustratively. "My disciples have hunted in your territory while you 'weren't paying attention.' I absolutely fleeced you in that trade deal four years ago. And I worked with that bastard as much as anyone but Lan Xichen, especially on those damn watchtowers, and you broke him. So when's it my turn?" He pointed at Nie Huaisang, finger only wavering slightly. “If you fuck with Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, or my sect, I will fuck you back.”

"You- oh, gimme that. Gimme. Gimme!" Nie Huaisang leaned forward and tried to grab the wine jar, and more importantly whined until Jiang Cheng handed it to him.

He stared at it for a moment, thrust it back and ordered, “Drink,” without letting it go, and once Jiang Cheng had dutifully tilted it back, pulled it back and slugged down the last swallows. He needed more alcohol for this much honesty, and so did Jiang Cheng.

He set the jar down very carefully, because the ground seemed to be moving, and leaned forward with even more care. He enunciated clearly, “Everyone fleeced me, and hunted in my territory, and I acsh- ass- let them. Why would I expect you to go looking for trouble with Jin Guangyao, when he had your heart locked in a box in his treasure room?”

Jiang Cheng, who was a respected master of all five arts but probably hadn’t actually read poetry for fun since an instructor had officially declared him as such, and who was himself at least a full wine jar in, squinted in angry confusion.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “He had final say over where and how Jin Ling spent his time, and could’ve tried to poison him against you. What would you have even have done if I had come complaining?”

Jiang Cheng’s face only fell further, with the very sort of drunken moroseness Nie Huaisang was out here to avoid.

Nie Huaisang attempted to swap him sharply. He failed on both the swap and the sharpness. 

“Stoppit! Stop thinking you’re not useful! You weren’t! I needed to pry er-ge away from him and for that only Lan Wangji would work, and I needed someone to watch his back through thick and deadly thin, and to be so disruptive that even Meng Yao couldn’t...circle, sneaky, planning...”

They were waiting for the pulse of a light talisman from the other tunnel entrance, half a mile away. There was a small but very bright explosion. laced with resentful as well as spiritual energy.

“Motherfucker!” Jiang Cheng cursed, leaping to his feet and drawing Sandu in one hideously coordinated motion. 

“Just Lan Wangji, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, because Nie Mingjue himself couldn’t have stopped him. He groped for his own weapons - fan, check; wine jar - 

“Oh no!” 

“What?”  Jiang Cheng snapped, as he bent and dragged Nie Huaisang to his feet with one hand. (Hideously coordinated. Sword people, honestly...)

“He’s going to be so mad that we finished the wine without him!”

[ . . . ]

[three grown-ass men, two sect leaders and one Yiling Patriarch, flying at high speed through Caiyi Town on one sword, all screaming. Nie Huaisang is clinging to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is flinging to Jiang Cheng, a little bit to Nie Huaisang, and most importantly to a chicken, Jiang Cheng is flying the sword. There is a bedsheet draped over all of them from where they ran into a laundry line. It’s 2am. Again I say, all are screaming]

[ . . . ]

[it probably wasn’t a rat - not just one, at least. Wei Wuxian does something incredibly clever, possibly including a creative use of that bedsheet; Jiang Cheng singlehandedly defeats something in combat, probably after he and Wei Wuxian shove each other out of the way of blows without either of them acknowledging it. Nie Huaisang shoves them both under cover and then with perfect professionalism tells whoever came to check on the ruckus that they handled the problem exactly as planned with absolutely no involvement of alcohol, and the Chief Cultivator will foot the bill for the unfortunately absolutely necessary property damage. Overall, they did handle the problem, but the local cryptid they were chasing will only have its reputation swelled and its continued existence assumed by all locals. it is possible that they themselves made this cryptid up two decades ago, but idk how heavy-handed we want to be.]

[ . . . ]

Nie Huaisang was leaning heavily on Wei Wuxian by the time they got back to the guest quarters. He could hold his alcohol, he was a goddamn Nie, and frankly he’d had it adrenalined out of him at least twice this evening. But he’d also had rather a lot, and he didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s golden core or Wei Wuxian’s blithe lack of sleep schedule. 

“I missed this,” he admitted, head on Wei Wuxian’s (Mo Xuanyu’s) shoulder while Jiang Cheng opened the door.

Wei Wuxian leaned his head on Nie Huaisang’s. “Me too.”

“You’re both fucking annoying,” Jiang Cheng grouched, which meant, Me too.

Wei Wuxian stripped off Nie Huaisang’s muddy outer robe and tucked him into bed, and Jiang Cheng poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door, drank it, poured another, scowled at Wei Wuxian for a moment, and set it on the bedside table. Wei Wuxian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, finished with Nie Huaisang and started backing out of the room.

Nie Huaisang sat up more or less abruptly. “Both of you have got to stop that bullshit. I miss my brothers, okay? I’d I had a second chance...” He sagged back down with the plural, and flung an arm over his damp eyes. There was a glimmer in the sky; it’d be morning by Lan standards soon. “I fucking miss them.”

“...Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, who always spoke even when he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said abruptly, and, “Drink your fucking water.” And the door slammed behind him as he walked out.

[...a few lines of dialogue later...]

“Seriously, you can go.” Nie Huaisang flicked a few tired fingers in dismissal.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian added with an audible smirk, “Because if I stay up for another half hour, I can wake Lan Zhan with a morning...big ol’...loving...”

Nie Huaisang finally adjusted his arm to crack one eye up at him.

“People usually cut me off before I get that far,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

[ . . . a bit more dialogue and the end.]

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.9

masterlist

requests are closed, but please read this first :)

if you want to be tagged, send an ask or message me!

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope, my original shameless self insert idea lmao

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for the ride of her life when their exchange student is...a bit strange (but very hot). NOT a nonmagic AU, though you already knew that if you’ve read part 8 ;)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a break in, concerns about a home intruder, objectively the most fluffy scene we’ve gotten so far in this series (hehe), draco being fucking obnoxious and moody (did i mention swearing?)

a/n: ayoooooo so here’s part 9, as promised. i’ve started getting back into the hp universe more and more, so i should probably be picking up my writing soon. i’ve been feeling more myself again!! which is super awesome. i don’t think many people read this series anymore (or my author notes in general but i don’t blame yall) but i’m having a lot of fun writing it, so i’m going to keep going :)

music recs: 

puppy princess -- hot freaks

loverboy -- A-wall

linger -- the cranberries

tags tags tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

word count: 3.8k :)

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if Draco deliberately waited until the last minute to tell her family that he was leaving so he could evade her questioning. She tried to talk to him later that evening by knocking on his door, but she was met with complete silence. 

Draco was ignoring her, and she didn’t get why. She’d promised to not tell anyone--even begged for him to trust her and essentially swore on her life--but he still wasn’t acting normal. Perhaps he didn’t want her to badger him with questions about the magical world. 

Or maybe this was an excuse to get away from her.

Y/N swallowed the second possibility and locked it away somewhere out of sight. He’d left without a single word more to her (not even a congratulations for getting into a top 20 school, that loser) and never even bothered telling her when he’d return. And maybe that was the nicest part of it--she could pretend like he was never coming back.

As attractive as that option was, she had to admit that there was a Draco-shaped hole in her passenger car seat every time she drove to school. And in the kitchen when she was studying. And everywhere else he’d once touched. 

“Why do you think he went back?” 

Y/N took a break from reviewing her Art History final exam notes to look up at Lizzy. “Maybe something happened with his dad or he wanted to spend his holidays with his family? It’s probably not that serious.”

“Speaking of his dad, I tried to look up his name and see if anything came up,” Lizzy began. Y/N felt her heart jump into her throat. “Don’t you think it’s kinda sus? I haven’t found anything for him. It’s like he’s been completely wiped off the face of the earth. Do you know anything about it?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Draco’s franticness when she found out lingered in the back of her mind as she chose her words carefully. “I’m sure if he’s a genuine political target, they’ve just scrubbed the web clean of him, being a minor and all.”

“But don’t you think it’s funny that he’s apparently so important but there’s no evidence of him or his father ever existing?”

“Lizzy.” Her voice was firm. “It’s entirely possible that his real name is different. And either way, it’s not our story to uncover. He’s entitled to his own privacy, and if he doesn’t reveal his true identity then we need to respect that.”

“Oooookaaayyyyy, Mother,” said Lizzy. “You’re so fun. You know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

After the close brush with Lizzy, Y/N avoided the topic of Draco with her friends like wildfire. At the back of her mind, she registered that that was probably more suspicious, but when Sylvia asked her about him during lunch, she finally spun up a story.

“I told him I liked him,” she told everyone, the words stinging her throat. “He doesn’t feel the same way. I just would feel better if we dropped it.”

Her friends reacted immediately with sympathy, telling her that it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t see her for what she was worth. Somehow, this made her feel worse. She didn’t even need to tell him her feelings to know his thoughts--he didn’t see her as anything but a “muggle”, or whatever he called them. She never stood a chance.

Y/N spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering how things would’ve been different if she was a witch. She didn’t know anything about his world (apart from the fact that they really had a stick up their asses about people knowing of them) but she somehow craved a place in it. Would Draco feel differently towards her if she was magic? 

It was probably better if she didn’t pay too much mind to it, but she couldn’t let the thought go. Every time she shut her eyes at night, the memory of waking up next to Draco replayed in her head, over and over. She would’ve sold her soul to have gone back to that. Would things have been different if she had just...not found the letters? She was driving herself crazy digging through all her interactions with him. There’s no way she was imagining things, and judging by the surprised reactions of her friends when she told them he didn’t reciprocate feelings, she wasn’t the only one who thought something was there. If he was really so disgusted by her and her people, he wouldn’t have let her sleep in his room, in his bed no less. 

As December wore on, her mind began to be occupied by another feverish stream of thoughts. If she didn’t already feel like she was going crazy over the Draco problem, she was going completely insane over the fact that she was misplacing things like crazy and forgetting the most basic of things. It seemed like it was almost every day that she was forgetting where she put her keys (even though she could’ve sworn she’d hung them up by the door) or getting home to find the door already unlocked even though she was sure that she’d locked it behind her. It would’ve creeped her out, but she was really off kilter. It just wasn’t right having Draco away, and the sense of dread she got every time she went by her room just threw her off balance. What if she still had lingering sickness from whatever magical infliction she suffered? 

He really should’ve stuck around to watch after me. Just in case. 

Another thing was bothering her--a name she saw pop up in the pouch from when she went through his letters. It was a small portion of his collection, and she didn’t even think to examine it until after he took them back from her, but she noticed that the name “Pansy Parkinson” came up more than once as a return address. 

Her mind immediately jumped to the worst--Draco was madly in love with another girl, a magical girl, and traveled back home with the express purpose of declaring his neverending devotion for her and complaining about that rat Ohioan muggle that he had to spend his days with. 

Y/N knew it wasn’t healthy, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t quite shake it. The fact that he’d no doubt grown up around girls that would be suitable for him to date was making her physically ill with jealousy, which was probably the most embarrassing part of her feelings for him. Nevermind how much time she spent fantasizing about how soft his hair felt or how his stupidly pretty fingers would feel grazing her skin--she couldn’t even cope with the idea of him existing with other women that were honestly a better choice to him. 

That Christmas was surprisingly bleak. Being an only child always made for a quiet house during the holidays, but the expectation she held of having Draco there set her up for disappointment. Her house felt empty.

“Do you think he’s coming back?” Y/N asked her mother as they did the morning dishes together. 

“Well, I assume so. Why wouldn’t he? He was scheduled to spend the entire year with us. I think that if he’s changed his mind we would at least know by now.”

“What if he’s still deciding?”

“Why, miss him already?” Mrs. Y/L/N’s tone was teasing, but she felt her cheeks grow hot. 

“Quite the contrary. I’m just wondering if I’m about to become the pampered only child again or if I’m going to need to go back into the unglamorous life of sharing the spotlight.”

“Y/N,” her mother tutted. She’d stopped doing the dishes.

Y/N made a point to evade her knowing look. “Mom.” 

Her mother took a breath before answering. “Nothing. As a matter of fact, I did get a letter from him a few days ago. He’s scheduled to return the second week of January, right before school goes back.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, there’s no way her relief wasn’t visible.

“How’s that for your Christmas gift, hm?” 

“Mom!”

“Hey! Hey, it was a joke,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, throwing her hands up in a “no can do” sort of gesture. “I know that you’re good friends with him is all. Unless…”

“Mom!” Her cheeks were all shades of red.

“All I’m saying is that he seems to enjoy your company.”

“Stockholm syndrome, I’m telling you.” Her explanation of what that meant was on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. There was no reason to--the only person who would need that explained to them was no longer on the same continent as her. 

“Whatever you’d like to think.”

~ 

The snowstorm hit them without warning, two days after Christmas. Her parents had left for the night to attend a charity auction, but unfortunately for Y/N, by the time that they realized that their daughter would be snowed in, the roads were too dangerous to drive on. Y/N begrudgingly agreed to do all of the things they told her to--get the generator ready, make sure the fireplace was prepared, and locate all the candles in the house. 

On any normal day, she wouldn’t have been concerned in the slightest, but she’d felt uneasy in her house ever since the night of the break-in, and now that this was the first night she’d have to spend alone, her heart was pounding at the thought of having to sleep in an empty house. Especially if the power was out. Especially when whoever broke in was still on the loose. 

She locked up at dusk, making sure that every entry to her home was completely sealed shut. The generator was in the basement, all set up in the case that the lights went out. She’d located all the bottled water in her house in case the pipes froze, and she finally retired to her room to relax. 

The sense of dread that hovered around Draco’s room was gone, thankfully. The overall feeling of creepiness was just beginning to lose its jarring sting, but she’d never quite been able to shake how many things she misplaced in the beginning of the month. 

She busied herself with mundane activities--she cleaned out her closet, organized her drawers, read, changed her sheets, and finished the last of her homework--but nothing could distract her from the gnawing inside of her. The hairs on the back of her neck constantly stood up, even when she was tucked away in the corner of her room, nestled into her blankets. The tingling was akin to what she felt when she walked into that antique shop on homecoming night--the same night when Draco helped her off her feet and narrowly kept her from throwing up all over Heather.

Looking back on it, she realized that when he grabbed her wrist, he must’ve done something to quell her nausea, something magical. There was no way her carsickness could’ve been able to disappear so quickly. 

Her soliloquy was interrupted by what sounded like footsteps outside. Before she could assess the situation and decide what she was going to do, a boom sounded off in the distance and she was all of a sudden bathed in darkness.

Y/N froze.

Someone was most definitely outside her house, but thankfully she’d locked all the doors. And, thankfully, the boom told her that her fuse box hadn’t been messed with. A tree had probably just fallen on a transformer. 

But those small comforts still didn’t change the fact that she was no longer alone--and not only that, but no longer alone without power. 

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by banging on her front door. Y/N jumped, just barely managing to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that alerting someone that you were home wasn’t the smartest move. She’d have to be strategic. 

Heart pounding out of her chest, she crept out of her room and down the stairs. The power outage was quite lucky, she realized, as whoever was outside couldn’t see in. The moon only cast a slight light as it reflected off of the snow, so she was going to be able to see the person outside before they would see her.

She squinted from her perch by the base of the staircase. She could make out a silhouette, a tall and lanky one. The weak moonlight reflected off a very light head of hair, and Y/N was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

No way...

Y/N stood frozen for a few seconds as she heard the person knock on the door again. A muffled version of a familiar British voice said, “Is anyone there?”

Throwing all caution to the wind and praying to any higher power that was listening to her that her suspicion was correct, she pushed down on the doorknob and swung it open.

Her heart stopped. 

“Draco? What are you--”

Before she could get another word out of her mouth, she was pulled into the tightest (and snowiest) hug of her life. One of his arms wrapped solidly around her waist, the other reaching further up to her shoulders to hold her closer. He was tall enough in comparison that he could rest his chin on the top of her head while she cautiously clasped her hands around him, breathing in the same soft pine scent that she knew so well.

When he finally let go of her, she noticed that his face was decidedly less pale than what it had been when she first opened the door. At a loss for words, Y/N just made her way behind him and shut the door to keep the storm from blowing any more snowflakes in. She noted that Draco was shaking.

“You’re okay,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

She grinned. “Yeah. Believe it or not, I’m not that scared of the dark.”

He didn’t look nearly as amused, wringing his hands out in front of him instead of meeting her eyes.

“You’re going to freeze to death if you’re gonna just stand there in soaking clothes,” she chided. “And what are you doing back half a month early? I know you must’ve missed me, but I didn’t expect you to miss me THAT much.”

He rolled his eyes, bringing Y/N the comfort that the sarcastic asshole was still in there. “We need to talk.”

“No, what you need to do is get changed into dry clothes,” she said. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but until we get our generator working, there’s no heat...and I’m not sure if the Ministry is going to like it if I let you die on my watch.”

Even though he didn’t normally laugh at her jokes, he seemed especially solemn when she said this. It became very clear to her then that he regretted his brief display of affection.

“What are you doing, just standing here? Shoo! I don’t want to see you dripping snow all over the rug.” She waved him off until he made his way up the stairs, still eerily silent. 

Once she was sure he was actually getting dressed, she made her way to the kitchen where she started heating up the water. She’d never been more thankful for the fact that they had a gas stove instead of an electric one. 

The tea was almost finished brewing by the time that Draco was back downstairs, perched awkwardly on the couch. She’d never seen his sweater before--it was in a rich forest green with a silver crest of a snake. 

“Are you going to tell me whatever is going on? I’ve never seen you like this before,” asked Y/N as she handed him the mug that she knew to be his favorite.

He took a sip and waited a bit before responding. “I found out some things while I was away.”

“Is that it? Must’ve been something pretty interesting for you to come in here and act like I’m your long lost love or whatever.” She took careful note of how his cheeks were especially pink, but it must’ve been because of the cold.

“I shouldn’t tell you everything, but I think you should probably know the gist of things,” he began. “First of all, I figured out why I couldn’t use the Obliviation cube on you. Also, you have to consent to an Unbreakable Vow.”

“A...what? Care to elaborate? Like, at least a little? Why didn’t it work on me?”

He sighed, a sharp breath of air that left his lungs in a huff. “Because you stumbled upon a very important box that can bestow the gift of magic onto anyone. And since you did something in your dream to try and open it, it permanently took root in you. I tried to reverse it, but there’s always going to be an imprint of magic on you.”

“Sick. So I’m a witch now? Like you?”

“No.” His tone was sour. “No, you’re not. For that to work, there needs to be a ritual actually completed by someone magical. That’s why you got so sick--because you would’ve needed me to help you through your dream sequence and open up the box. So, now that you’ve essentially pushed yourself into the magical world uninvited, I can’t use anything on you that’s catered towards Muggles.”

“Rats,” said Y/N. “That’s no fun. What about the whole part about my safety? And what’s that vow thing?”

“Apparently someone really, really wants that box,” Draco told her. “It doesn’t just give muggles the gift of magic--it can also give current wizards powers that are otherwise completely unavailable to the rest of the population. In the wrong hands, they could wreak havoc on the world. And I’m almost positive they think you have it.”

“Oh…” Everything started falling into place. “So, the break in? That probably was them right? And, uh, let’s say if you feel like maybe someone has been in your house while you’ve been gone? Like, that’s something I should be worried about, right?” 

“Is that happening to you?” His face looked significantly more pale.

Y/N was tempted to tell him no--just to ease his nerves--but something in his look told her that she needed to be truthful. “Um, kind of. You know how I can be forgetful, though. It’s just little things, like sometimes I come home to find that the front door is unlocked when I’m sure I locked it, or I can’t find little things like my car keys and my phone, but it’s all easily explained.”

“I never should’ve left,” he said, tucked his knees up to his chest. “I should’ve known that that was Merlin’s Box.” He swallowed, meeting her eyes with a gaze that looked so forlorn that her heart ached. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, all we have to do is tell them I don’t have the box, right? And then they’ll leave me alone.” 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I assume so, but if they didn’t find the box when they originally ransacked your room and they’re still hanging around, I don’t know what to do. That’s why I can’t obliviate you, the proper way that we use on wizards, because I can’t always be there to save you. Once I’m gone, you’re going to have to manage on your own.”

“Please, Draco,” said Y/N. “People will always talk a big game, but once I pull out my pepper spray it’s over. I can take care of myself! I didn’t need protection while you’re away.”

He smiled then, a small one that seemed more sad than anything. “You sound like me. When I was younger.”

“You probably don’t even know what pepper spray is. What’s that vow thing?”

“You have to promise that you won’t say anything that would reveal what you know about me and my world,” said Draco. “I need to find a wizard to say the incantations, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I ended up telling the Ministry what happened--I’m not going to get sent away as they have a clear record of me at least attempting to wipe your memory and they agree that you need to be able to protect yourself. Unbreakable Vows are just really intense promises. If you break it, you die.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t really trust my word?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s required by the Ministry. If you don’t comply, then you’re going to be completely obliviated and then you can have as much fun as you’d like trying to run from whoever that criminal is without even knowing why they’re after you. Oh, and without me.” 

“Then why are you even offering the vow? Don’t you want to go home?”

Draco took a long drink from his mug. “I still have a sentence to carry out. If I go back home, I’ll get sent to the same prison that my father is being held at right now.”

“A...sentence?” Y/N stared at him. “I know you mentioned a punishment, but a sentence?”

He remained silent and refused to meet her eyes.

“Draco, what exactly did you have to do?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. The sudden switch of tone made Y/N start, but he was unwavering in his scowl. “I’d prefer to not think about it.”

“But...Draco…” Y/N cast her gaze to the ground so she didn’t have to see the no doubt furious look in his eyes when she continued to push. “How bad? Do you think that maybe whoever is after me might know that I don’t have the box anymore? And that they might be trying to seek revenge against you for whatever it was that you did instead?”

He didn’t respond.

“Think about it. That would explain why I was untouched this whole time that you were away when they were still keeping tabs on me.”

With a pronounced bonk, he set his mug down on the coffee table. “I’m going to bed.”

She managed to get one more look at his face before he spun around to head up the stairs and was shocked to see what was etched into his face--anger, yes, frustration...and also shame. Unmistakable shame.

final a/n: weeoooooooo i’m like 3 minutes early...this is a monumental moment for my blog. let me know what you guys think (if there’s still people sticking with this series fjkds;al). i am going to go back into my hole and work on some math hw (wonders of ohio y/n vibes...i have low key become her trying to roleplay as a stem girl). the plot is going to thicken and hopefully there will be more fluff soon. i honestly didn’t want to add the hug bc i do want this to be slow burn but it has come to my attention that this is now about 30k words long and i haven’t given y’all so much as an inkling that draco has feelings/anything will happen between them so i gotta give you something to hold you over fjdska;

[wasabito]

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true. 

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer. 

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once. 

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance. 

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture. 

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment. 

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly. 

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more. 

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too. 

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit. 

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up. 

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!" 

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?" 

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

[because-of-a-friend]

Boyfriend!Minghao Fluff

Thanks for the request @tinykpoper​ !!! I really hope you like it! Sorry it took me longer than I expected, I had a good bit of it written but then my computer lost all of my progress :( Remember everyone this is a series I only write by request so if I’m missing someone you want, go ahead and request them!

MASTERLIST

Coups | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | DK | Mingyu | Minghao | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino

Hao is such a chaotic force romantically lol

He acts very very very confident

But he is not 

He’ll talk a huge game to the other boys

“I’m so smooth and charming, I could date anyone I want!”

“Then why aren’t you dating anyone?”

“I- ... shut up, DK”

But he goes on talking himself up anyways lol

Finally one day DK decides to put Hao to the test

Hao mentions something about how suave he is

And DK is like “Ok, go ask them for their number then”

He gestures to you, talking with a friend a few feet away on the sidewalk

Minghao is like “I did not hear that”

But DK keeps egging him on

So finally, Minghao walks up to you

It takes you a moment to even realize that he’s there

He’s so quiet 

“Um, hello, my name is Minghao”

He scratches the back of his head

“Hi Minghao! I’m [Y/N]”

He’s taken aback by your bright smile and positive attitude 

His heart skips a beat

“I, um... I was wondering if I might be able to get your number?”

You contemplate for a second about giving a random boy your number

But he’s cute and sweet and you’re not getting any bad feelings so you think why not

You put your number in his phone 

“You better text me, Minghao”

His whole face is tomato red as he nods

DK is absolutely giddy when Minghao turns back to him

He opens his mouth but Minghao drags him away as quickly as possible

For the rest of the day, Minghao stares at your number wondering what to text you

He writes messages and then erases them over and over and over and over

He gets so in his head about it that eventually he just quits the idea of texting you

“Oh well, I’ll never see them again, it doesn’t really matter” 

But he does see you again

He walks into a coffee shop late at night

He’s just looking around and studying the menu

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here”

He feels shock at the words

His mind starts racing to try and remember if there’s anyone he’s offended 

He turns and it’s you!!!

You’re working there as a barista

Hao startles

“Oh...um”

“Is that what you do? Just ask people for their numbers and then never talk to them again? What’s even the point of that?”

He scratches the back of his head

“Well it’s just that...”

He looks back up at you

You’re smiling

Oh... you were messing with him

He smiles back a little

“I just didn’t know what to say”

“Well” you look over at the clock on the wall “You better figure out some things to say within twenty minutes”

“What? Why?”

“That’s when my shift ends! We can go get food, I’m hungry”

Minghao is speechless 

“I- um...”

“And you can treat to make up for not texting”

Minghao sits in the corner of the cafe, waiting for your shift to end

His heart is pounding the whole time

He looks up every once in awhile to watch you work 

You were so bright and kind to every customer

And you’re practically glowing in the golden lights of the cafe

When your shift is up you practically skip up to his table

“C’mon Mister Minghao, time for you to get me some dinner”

Minghao scrambles out of his chair and follows you out the door

Once you’re outside, you grab Hao’s hand and drag him towards the restaurant you have in mind

Hao is completely infatuated with you

How you’re smiling brightly under the street lights

You tell him excitedly about the restaurant you’re going to and how it’s one of your favorites

He just nods happily

Once you’re both finally settled in the restaurant, Minghao finally speaks up

It’s mostly to ask you questions about you

He finds out that you’re a university student, and what your major is

You tell him all about your family and friends and goals and dreams

Then you turn the conversation back to him

He shyly tells you about Seventeen and what that’s like

He beams as he talks about the boys and you find it absolutely adorable

“Can I see you dance sometime?”

He freezes 

“Would you even want to?”

“Of course I would, Hao! You talk about it so passionately, I want to see you in action!”

“I mean, I was gonna spend some extra time in the practice room this weekend...”

“Cool, it’ll be our second date then!”

Minghao is absolutely glowing when he gets home

“I’m guessing the coffee shop was good?” Jeonghan asks as he and Coups stare at his dazed face

“Huh? Oh yeah... it was fine”

For the rest of the week, Hao practices dances he could show you

When the day finally comes, he’s so nervous

He keeps watching himself in the mirror, worried that he looks ridiculous

When you finally come, he’s already pretty worn out

You sit with your back to the mirrors as you watch one of the dances he’s been working on

In the midst of his thoughts about doing well enough to impress you

He gets a passing thought that the image of you sitting in front of the wall of mirrors watching him dance is one that he could get used to

Once the song is done, you jump up excitedly

“Minghao that was amazing!!! You have to teach me something!!!”

He grins as you grip his arms and jump up and down

“Um ok, have you ever danced before?”

“Not once!”

He laughs at how brightly you say it

“Ok, then we’ll try something basic first”

The two of you spend the rest of the day dancing around, laughing when you mess up

You’re both exhausted by the time you actually make your way through a simple dance

You sit on the floor of the dance practice and drink water

“So, Mister Minghao... Any ideas for our third date?”

Romantically, you hit him like a hurricane

Every day is a new adventure with you

He thought he was outgoing

But you’re honestly down to do anything at any time

It changes his life honestly

Every moment is new and exciting

And while he’s with you, it’s never scary, just fun

He tries so many new things he never would have even considered just because of you

Once he gains confidence in your relationship, he comes up with just as many ideas for dates as you

And he takes more of the lead sometimes

His favorite feeling is the two of you holding hands as you rush off towards your next adventure

“Honestly Hao, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this confident and happy before”

“It’s cuz I’m in love Gyu”

Speaking of the other boys

Wow do they adore you

Just like Hao, they’re all taken aback by your confidence

Even Seungkwan and Hoshi

But they really think you’re awesome 

And it’s not long before you and Hao start inviting them on some of your adventures 

They all have so much fun

They love it when you attend their concerts because you cheer so loud

They have an inside joke that they can always hear you no matter how loud the other attendees get

And they know you’re really good for Hao

Bc not only are you taking him out of his comfort zone

You always take him seriously

You listen closely to all of his problems and concerns

You never make fun of him, not even a little 

You always proudly show off his art and praise him for it

You two like to go to couples art classes 

There was that one time when you came home from a rough day

And you just kind of leaned across from him on the counter and rant 

You admit that you’re struggling with school and the idea that you’re enough to accomplish what you want to

He silently takes out his paint and every time you complain about yourself, he writes one of the things he loves about you with paint on your skin

Then he stops waiting for you to say doubtful things and just continues writing kind thing after kind thing across your skin

When he runs out of space, he pushes up your shirt and continues to write

Then as he’s simply painting pretty designs up your stomach, he climbs on top of you and pushes you back to kiss you slowly and deeply and sweetly

Let’s just say he makes it very hard for you to doubt yourself

And you do the same for him

You honestly don’t even give him the chance to start doubting himself

You’re always supporting him in everything he does and praising his artistic creations

He loves talking to you after concerts 

Because you always have something new to say and you’re always overly excited about their performance and you explain your best parts with giant gestures and loud words

And he just sits there giggling at you

If you mention something about one of the other boys

He’ll get pouty until you talk about him again

And then you have to pet his head while you tell him how proud of him you are

But then you also push him back and tell him he’s so dramatic

But you two just have a really pure love for each other

You’re each other’s #1 supporters

And your relationship is all about finding adventure and doing it together

[struwwelzeter]

I’m surprised yet I’m not surprised that I haven’t seen anyone on tumblr talk about the Balenciaga collab. Twitter and Instagram are almost universally panning the move and are quite pissed off at it. Personally I think the collab was a dumb and tone deaf move on the management, but I can’t fuss about it too much because of a lot previous musicians I liked ate these kinds of designer streetwear brands up and I just had to turn a blind eye to it eventually.

😕 I was really happy tumblr largely ignored it because I expected the outrage and dreaded it. My take is not gonna be a popular one, and I am sorry it’s probably not what you hoped to get. I’ll try to explain why, but I do have big feelings about this and I don’t know how articulate i can be.

The thing I am seeing in all of these comments, and what I think you refer to when you say it was tone deaf, is a lot of hurt. And in a way I completely, 100% understand that. The problem is, I think, that it’s misdirected when it is directed at the band. The fact that some well off fashion victim can drop what some of us earn in a month on a hoodie, hurts. It hurts that people that have been with this band for years and years, have saved any and each magazine clipping they can get their hands on and struggle to save up for months to buy a concert ticket while other people can do that - that shit hurts. And I understand that. I really do. I feel it too.

The thing is though, and this is where I fear what I say could be taken the wrong way: Rammstein doesn’t owe anyone anything. They don’t owe anyone to stick with only accessible merch, they don’t owe us some weird class loyalty where they turn stuff like this down. They just don’t. Why would they? Why? Because the thing that is hurtful about it is systemic, and they don’t owe us to fix systemic unfairness. They don’t owe anyone to not take advantage of it either, when it is offered to them, because they aren’t exploiting anyone but the exploiters, if that makes sense. They just don’t. Sorry. They are a well off band, but they aren’t rich enough to fix capitalism. I am gonna ask you very honestly, would you say no to becoming successful in a system that by it’s very nature devalues what you do, makes it a huge lottery draw if you can even make a living of what you do and takes advantage of you wherever it can? Rammstein got very lucky, and worked very hard for longer than most people on this website are alive. But in general, the way this society treats people like them, yes, even a large potion of their fan base, is a disgrace. They are a 1 in I don’t know how many cases of people who took the same risks and had the same passion and didn’t make it. And I think they know that too. I am sorry, but they’ve earned it.

I grew up far below what is considered the poverty line in my country, in a community of artists, and I feel very strongly about this one thing: The same person that will drop a 6 figure number on a painting will tell you not to go to art school and get a real job instead, because you can never be “successful” that way (whatever they mean by that.) Please read that sentence again.

Society doesn’t give a shit about artists. And when I mean “society” I actually mean fans, too, because ... I could write an essay about this, but basically because they complain more about not getting a ticket refund than the fact that currently thousands of artists fall by the wayside and won’t make it through this pandemic. I repeat, society, AT large, don’t give a wet fart about artists. It pretends it does, because they want to look cultured, but it really doesn’t. Every now and then they lift one up into the heights of the glittery temples of fame and stardom, to circle jerk with their art criticism and their champagne events and photo ops. And it’s disgusting it works that way, yes. But again, that is systemic. And what I need you to understand is that the majority of people who turn to the extremely precarious lifestyle of trying to paint or to make music for a living, take up with how the world is treating them, take the risk of falling of the grod financially, take the degradation of being asked to “work for exposure” and the “why are you still doing this, wouldn’t it be easier to —— it’s clearly not going anywhere” questions year after year after year for ... they do it for that one tine little chance to be that 1 that gets lifted. This isn’t about the passion — you don’t make art to be “successful”, there are so much easier ways. It’s about taking the merciless grind and maltreatment for that one shot to one day be seen and recognised as worthy people and to get out of the grind. And when it happens, they are supposed to turn it down? Why?

Sorry, but no.

I understand that this is an inflammatory take. I do, in a way, understand why people get angry. I just don’t agree with the direction of the anger - at all. The thing is, if you look at it in a more innocent way, the creative director of Balenciaga, as I understand it, was a civil war refugee who somehow managed to become the leading designer on one of the biggest name in fashion. Do you think it was likely for him to get there? Do you think it was ever easy for any boy to become a fashion designer against a backdrop of constant teasing and a probably even smaller chance of “making it” than musicians? But he did it, and turns out he is a Rammstein fan. So he does what he loves. Big deal. To be clear: I think the existence of brands like Balenciaga is stupid to me too. But still - the same person that will drop a 1000€ bucks on a raincoat will tell you not to go to fashion school, you know? Rammstein also have a history of being in the high fashion world. They had 3 exclusive photoshoots with zoo magazine in the time they had like, idk, 1? With Rolling Stone, they were in fashion magazines first in the US, they had runway shows in their early career ... this was a long time coming. I WAS surprised it was Balenciaga. I hoped it would be something like Givenchy or McQueen but I guess they’re not that classy - what do you expect from a bunch of guys who wear sandals with tracksuits.

Another take I see quite often is the whole “well now there will be knock offs and people that don’t even know the band will start wearing it” and while that is a huge pet peeve, I have to think of Flake writing about that in his book and being all awed by how anyone could become that big - and just feeling a but of a misty eyed satisfaction of “they made it.”

I understand people are angry. But maybe consider of you’re really angry at the band - or simply the fact that we live in a world where some people have to make a living for weeks off the same money someone else drops on a t-shirt.