#that loads of arts students are also taking for easy As

[dullahandyke]

accidentally unfollowed u trying to send an ask i'm soso sorry T-T but also people who rely on chatgpt for uni are so incomprehensible to me partially because i took a quick college course last year to get into my job, social care, and like can you imagine having a carer or smth who didn't know what they were doing because they cheated the entire time they were learning??? but also like you're in an academic setting they're gonna have shit in place to notice plagiarism and they take that so seriously lmao. AI bros are annoying as fuck

Dw bro but SO REALLLL LIKE. I watched the main person I was bitching about for a while and they're a business student who was using chatgpt to pass a sociology test or something 😰😰 NOT a good sign for the businesses of tomorrow

[jesuistrestriste]

dilf!art donaldson and saltnpepper!patrick zweig..

art is divorced from tashi, and has been for about a year now, but they still obviously have a kid together. he gets her every other week, and hired you to be her pseudo-nanny when he has to meet with trainers or students at stanford from time to time (he coaches tennis now after retiring from the sport)

and sometimes, when he comes home after it gets dark, he'll bring patrick.

you'll be sitting on the couch after having put his child to bed, and these two tall, toned, older men will laugh softly with one another (about something you couldn't be expected to know) as they walk in the door.

and.. sometimes.. they'll join you on the couch.

art on your left, patrick on your right.

they were a little tipsy the first time they considered doing it, but now they come up to you completely sober and will put their hands all over you. teasing touches at first, and then it'll escalate.

it always does, and it always get you all warm and eager.

art will kiss and suckle at your neck; one of his calloused hands reaching up to turn your head towards his friend so that he can get better access to your flesh, and patrick will bully his tongue into your mouth as soon as your lips are in front of his.

the brunette will groan into your mouth and push his greedy fingers down into your waistband while art licks over your pulse. slips them right into your panties too, the pads of them slicking over your folds.

"mmm, god... sometimes i forget how quick you get wet..."

and you'll whimper and squirm until patrick finally starts to give you what you want (but not without a few good bits of begging first). art actually has to pull back and remind him to be nice to you.

tells his former doubles partner to "take it easy” because you're sweet, and you’re soft, and you’re also the best babysitter he's found in nyc.

he can't lose you.

the two of them grope and knead and lick and fuck you quietly (pat's guiding hand under your jaw + art's digits filling your mouth) until you're a sticky mess of their come and your drool.

patrick will usually apologize for being too rough—while art moves to get you water—and will pawn over $40 for plan b.

(it's plan a, really.)

art will roll his eyes, saying something about how taking plan b so frequently can disrupt your body's hormones, but he's all talk.

could he go out and buy extra-thin condoms for when him and his buddy wanna spill their loads up against your cervix? sure! but he wont. the feeling of you squeezing around him, milking him without a stupid latex barrier between your bodies, never fails to knock the wind out of his chest. it’s too damn good to pass up.

he gets major cognitive dissonance from this shit, but he can't help it.

he'll scold patrick for continuing to fund your purchases, but he'll encourage you with his eyes to go out and buy the pill anyways.

youre young and cute and bright and impressionable. he would hate for him or patrick to get you pregnant, because that would mean that you'd be stuck here with one of them in the city instead of going out into the world and exploring.

...but maybe that wouldn't be so bad..

one of them would be able to keep you forever; hold you whenever they want, kiss you whenever they want, stuff you whenever they want.

hmm.

maybe next time art'll tell you to skip the contraceptive.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: dark academia college au. nonidol!hyunjin. enemies to lovers // academic rivals. angst. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. kindaa toxic relationship between hyunjin and reader since they're enemies in uni. ANGST!! reader comes from a poor background and hyunjin is the uni dean's prodigy son. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 10.6k (enjoy you filthy animals 😈)

summary: ever since you started studying at korean national university of arts in seoul, hwang hyunjin, the other top student of the school and the dean's son, has been an absolute thorn in your ass. although, it turns out that not all thorns are necessarily bad.

18+ warnings: dom!hyunjin x sub!reader. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends). fingering. dirty thoughts/fantasies are mentioned. degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc). pet names (baby girl, sweetheart, doll face, etc). LOTS of hair pulling. BIG ownership/possession kink. breeding kink!!!. overstimulation. orgasm control. nipple/breast play. lots of dirty talk. subspace. loud sex. manhandling. humiliation kink. exhibitionism (fucking in a public library).

a/n: first of all, i'd just like to give a BIG shoutout to my dear friend @ahactress, for giving me the initial prompt to this about a month ago haha- without your help, I wouldn't be here right now honey!! 🤭💙 also, i'm sending all my love to my beautiful bestie @h0p3l3ssromantic, for encouraging me with her pretty words and her endless love... girl, you RULE and ilysm!!! 😫❤️ I don't know if it's public knowledge around these parts, but my dms on all my sns platforms are ALWAYS open for ya'll to spew your ramblings about my work haha - hmu on twt babes, I'm always down to chat~ ✨

💙 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

  The moment you saw the dark, heavy clouds swirling low in the sky as you walked to your Survey of Humanities class, you knew that the day was going to be a shitty one. Already, you had woken up with a raging headache from the all-nighter you had pulled the day before to finish all of your homework for the following week. 

 Besides, it was a Monday too, and you fucking hated Mondays. 

 For one thing, the start of the new week always meant being bombarded with loads of assignments from the four classes you were taking. Being a junior with a Liberal Arts major was not as easy as everyone thought it was — and you constantly felt like you could never catch up on all of the homework. 

 With two formal art classes, one on charcoal drawings and the other on watercolor techniques, and then two upperclassman Humanities classes, your schedule was packed with studying time. Sometimes, it was hard to even eat during the day, since you were so busy with your schoolwork. 

 But there was no way around it, no excuses that could be made. 

 You either continued to stay at the top of your classes, as one of the best students in your grade for your graduation year, or you didn’t. 

 Your mother didn’t sacrifice everything she had for you to fail so horribly at university. 

 So you were okay with the stress and deadlines. Because you wanted to make both her and yourself proud. 

 And yeah, maybe you also wanted to prove to your classmates that you could do it. 

 You especially wanted to brag about your success to a certain man… 

 Hwang Hyunjin. 

 He was slated to graduate in your same year and was studying Technical Art. And holy shit— was he an insufferable ass. Unfortunately, since the two of you shared such close majors, you had found yourself in one too many classes with him during your time at the Korean National University of Arts in Seoul. It also didn’t help that he was coined as one of the #1 students in the entire school, and did everything in his power to make everyone aware of this fact. 

 Especially you. 

 If he earned just two points more than you on an exam in the same class that you were taking together, he’d nonchalantly wave the white paper in front of you after the exam period, taunting you with his sly tongue and that cruel grin of his. 

 Most of the time, you managed to ignore his wicked teasing, sticking to yourself and your small group of study buddies. But on the rare occasion that he did get under your skin, you’d snap irrevocably and usually land yourself in the Dean’s office. 

 But of course, Hyunjin was also there because — news flash — he was the son of the fucking Dean of the university. 

 Usually, the meetings after your blowups were casual and spoken in soft voices, with Dean Hwang recounting the school’s long integrity policy to you, which you had already memorized in the back of your head after your third visit to his office. The entire time the Dean reminded you of how your ‘behavior was uncalled for in the situation,’ Hyunjin would be standing in the corner of his father’s office, arms folded across his chest and canting his head to the side as he studied you with a pleased little devilish sneer on his face. 

 After every single one of the meetings, he’d always try to catch up to you outside of his father’s office. This usually landed in you cursing him out under your breath and telling him to fuck off before you retreated into the shadows of one of the many hallways. 

 And as it just so happened, your Survey of Humanities class also had a certain raven-haired man constantly sitting in the farthest seat from the front of the lecture hall. 

 It was almost comical how good-looking he was, coupled with his genius brain. Because as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was incredibly smart… in both the arts and all other forms of academics. He aced every single quiz and exam he was given, got 100s on every technical art research essay he wrote, and was involved in practically every club there was on campus. 

 The girls of your grade fawned all over him, and even the freshmen were weak to his looks whenever he’d pass them in the hallway. He looked right out of an early 2000s fashion magazine, with his model-like physic, long, shaggy black hair that perfectly framed his face and curled at the nape of his neck, not to mention the expensive designer clothes he was always seen in. 

 You had never seen him dress like the other guys of his same age — had never seen him clad in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a worn oversized graphic tee. Instead, he rolled up to the curb of the university in his cherry red 2023 Rolls Royce, dressed to the nines in fitted coats, light-washed designer jeans, and crisp white button-downs. 

 Hwang Hyunjin had been the school’s ultimate heartthrob for as long as you could remember, and you had heard rumors of the kind of things he did with his lovers — taking his girlfriends out to expensive restaurants in the heart of the city, before bringing them back to his luxurious apartment and fucking them late into the night. Usually, you tended to ignore the dating and sex part of your arch nemeses' life, and instead just focused on beating him at his own game of academics. 

 And during that early Friday morning in the middle of October, as you strolled through the doors of the lecture hall and your eyes scanned over the students already seated, you caught sight of him.

 Dressed in a casual, brown turtleneck and dark-washed jeans, he looked like he had just walked straight out of an autumn edition of GQ Men. He was seated in his usual place, legs crossed and hands busy scribbling away notes on his iPad. As you floated beside him and towards your seat at the very back of the hall, you caught the scent of him — a mix of earthy musk and dark roasted coffee beans. 

 He didn’t pay you the time of day as you flitted past him and took out your notebooks once you were seated down. Thankfully, he seemed to be choosing the route of ignoring you for the day, much to your relief. 

 Soon, the professor strode into the lecture hall and began the class. For a while, he droned on about the midterm that all of the students had taken the week before, and how he was impressed with the class’ results. “Although, two students in particular outshined everyone else,” he began, his eyes scanning the lecture hall until they landed on Hyunjin seated just two rows before you. “Hyunjin, excellent work — it’s quite rare that I see a student score a 100 on the midterm,” then his focus was floating upward and landing on you. “Y/N, you’re short essay for the midterm was superb, and your choice of art analysis was a very unique one for sure.” 

 Just as the professor was focusing back on the rest of the course material, you could sense someone’s gaze trained on you. Staring forward, you caught a glimpse of him shooting you a snarky grin. You glared daggers into his skull, just wishing that he’d get shot in the foot and keel over in pain at that moment. 

 He always liked to gloat when he got a higher score than you on the tests, and you both knew that he had done better on the test overall — since the professor only mentioned his 100 and not yours. But apparently, your midterm essay was a hell of a lot better than his. 

 Sticking out your tongue at him playfully, you rolled your eyes before folding your arms across your chest and turning your attention back on the slides that the professor was ticking through. Hyunjin got under your skin so much he sometimes felt like a fucking disease — burrowed so deeply inside your veins, it was almost impossible to cut out the hatred. 

 “For this week’s assignment, you guys will be paired up into groups of two to create a joint presentation on the topic of ‘The Descent into Madness,’” As soon as you heard the professor mention splitting the class into groups, you felt your heart leap inside your chest. You only hoped that you wouldn’t be paired up with him. “Using your textbooks as a guideline, I want all of you to choose one specific piece of art from any period you want and conduct deep research into the mad aspects of it — dive into as much detail about the formal elements as you’d like, but make sure to follow the grading rubric and cite all academic sources. I’ve posted the list of paired groups on the bulletin board up here near the projector, so make sure to check it before you leave class today.” 

 You tuned out all other information the professor gave about the week’s assignment, too focused on seeing who you were paired with. As soon as he dismissed class, you were shooting up from your seat and hoisting your heavy tote bag across your shoulder. 

 Flitting down the stairway, you made it to the bulletin board before all of the other students did. They were idling around because no one gave two shits about who they were paired with. No one except for you. 

 “Please, please, please—” You prayed in a whispered tone under your breath as your eyes scanned the matched columns of students. When you came upon your name and saw who was next to it, it felt like the ground at your feet had opened right up and sucked you in entirely. “Fuck my life.” Heart dropping into the pit of your stomach, your palm squeezed a little tighter around the strap of your bag. 

 “Oh shit— looks like the professor decided to give you a fighting chance by pairing you up with the best student in the entire school.” You heard Hyunjin’s silky voice say from somewhere behind you. 

 Swinging around on your heels, you caught a glimpse of his sardonic, wide smirk, as his eyes scanned the look of sheer anger on your face. Giving a dry, humorless chuckle, he shoved his hands into his pockets and canted his head to the side in a quizzical kind of way. 

 “We’re only going to ace this project because of me— and let’s be clear here, I’m the better writer out of the two of us.” You said in a low voice, pointing an accusing finger at him in utter disgust. You could feel your brows pulling together from the rage that was building up inside of you. And all from the thought of being forced to work with him. 

 “Yeah, but I’m the better test taker.” 

 “Fuck you.” 

 Hyunjin chuckled wickedly, the tip of his blush pink tongue coming out and wetting a corner of his plush bottom lip. “Oh honey, I’m sure you wish you could.” 

 Already, you could tell that he was egging you on. Trying to get your goad so that you’d explode and be dragged to the Dean’s office. So that he could stare down at you with that same smug look on his face as his precious little daddy rattled off the university’s code of conduct. 

 Well fuck that bullshit. 

 Seeing too much red, you decided to excuse yourself from the equation before you said something horrible that got you sent into the Dean’s office again or even worse — kicked from the class. 

 “I’ll see you on Monday night at ten in the library,” you said in finality, squinting your eyes up at him and just wishing you could wring your hands around his perfect little neck. “Don’t be late.” 

 “I don’t take orders from you, sweetheart.” 

 “For now you sure fucking do.” 

 Then you were turning around and pushing out of the lecture hall, practically running down the corridor as fast as you could, heart pounding in your chest because… what the hell were you going to do? 

 That entire weekend leading up to the Monday night that you planned to spend with Hyunjin, you just about lost your mind over the worry of it all. Would he continue to be an asshole to you the entire time? Would he work well with you and compromise on things? How would everything go? 

 You were so stressed about the entire thing that you practically drove your roommate Felix insane with annoyance. Late Sunday morning, when you were making circles around your living room couch as you stressed about everything, he finally burst out in a loud outcry. 

  “Y/N! You seriously need to take a chill pill, you’re going to run holes right into the fucking carpet!” He said in an exasperated tone, muting the show that he was watching on the large flatscreen TV. 

 Peering up at him with wide, guilty eyes, you offered him a meek smile. “I’m sorry, Lix— it’s just… you know how much I hate Hyunjin and I—” 

 Felix rolled his eyes at you, completely fed up with your bullshit at that moment. “Yes, yes, I know. You’ve told me about a million times at this point. But like… don’t let it get to you, yeah? Just go out there and do your very best,” his eyes flitted back to the TV as he un-muted his show. “I mean… how bad could working with Hwang Hyunjin really be? Besides you, he’s one of the top students in the entire school.” 

 But he didn’t know Hyunjin like you did. 

 No one did. 

 They didn’t see the cruel side to him, the mean side. 

 They didn’t hear the words he’d mumble to you with venom after a big test or the taunting he’d throw your way if you one-upped him in some way. 

 Others didn’t see the dark looks he’d give you after classes or the way he’d practically talk behind your back each time you passed him in the hallway — whispering to his groupies and making all the guys chuckle heartily. 

 So yeah, working with him was a pretty fucking big deal. 

 Nonetheless, you took Felix’s advice and tried to relax as much as you could before the start of the new week. You studied the material that you wanted to research for the project, deciding to focus on Hamlet’s Ophelia for your analysis. 

 And if Hyunjin didn’t want to go with that character, well… too bad.

 By the time Monday night rolled around, you felt more prepared than ever before and stepped into the Library’s main doors with settled ease. The university’s library was your favorite place on campus and had been the location for many of your long night study sessions over your time in school. With its dark gothic architecture outside and its sweeping gables, it was a true sight to behold. Not to mention the cozy atmosphere of the interior — all of the cozy nooks and crannies of the place, filled with warm candlelight and large chandeliers and settees made everything feel so mysterious and relaxing. 

 You strode through the isles filled with books, noticing how it was almost empty of any other student. That’s why you liked coming to the place late at night because it was relatively devoid of life and incredibly quiet. And you liked the quiet — it made it easy for you to focus on your studies. Finally, you stumbled upon a spacious table tucked into the very corner of one part of the place on the upper floor, with a large bay window just in front of the wooden table. 

 With a glance outside the pane, you noticed how the darkening sky had opened up to reveal a sheet of heavy rain — it pelted down on the few students that were passing by the outside of the library on the sidewalk there, as they ran for cover. Methodically, you brought out your supplies — booting up your laptop and positioning your notebook and pens just so. 

 Checking your phone, the screen flashed that it was fifteen minutes past ten o’clock already. Was he not even planning on showing up? Was he going to completely bail on you and instead take you down by sabotaging the entire thing? 

As you sat down in one of the cushiony, velvet-lined chairs, your mind began to race with all of the possibilities of what Hyunjin might be stewing up to take you down. 

 Then, almost like your thoughts had summoned him, you heard footsteps at your back and turned to see Hyunjin rounding the corner of the tall bookshelves that were lined on either side of your chosen table. With one glance at him, you noticed the soaked-through fabric of his tan coat and the way his dark hair curled around the nape of his neck with moisture. He must’ve gotten caught in the rain and that’s why he was late. 

 “I thought you were going to bail on me entirely.” 

 Giving you a swarthy look, he plopped down into the seat just across from you and threw his heavy book bag atop the table. “Good evening to you as well.” He grumbled, slipping off his coat and showcasing the wetness hidden just underneath there. His light, cream-colored button-down was almost sheer from the rainwater… highlighting his muscular shoulder blades and the tips of his pecks. 

 “Didn’t you know it was supposed to rain heavily tonight?” 

 Not even paying you another glance, he focused on pulling out his supplies. “I’m not the fucking weatherman, I don’t regularly check up on shit like that.” 

 “Well, you should— maybe you wouldn’t ruin so many of your precious, rich boy clothes if you did.” 

 At that, his hands stopped moving and he stared up at you with slitted eyes. Giving your own choice of outfit a long once over, the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Well damn— are you jealous or something?” You weren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a comfortable pair of black sweatpants and a warm violet turtleneck top.

 “Let’s just focus on getting to work.” You shot back, hands typing away at your computer keyboard. “Did you figure out a piece you want to analyze?” 

 “Yeah, Hamlet’s Ophelia.” 

 His words were silky and smooth against your ears, but his answer is what got you shooting your gaze up to his again. Mouth dropping open a little bit in surprise, you cleared your throat from the sudden quietness between you. “Oh— uhm, I was thinking the same,” you began, opening up the Word document that you had already started working on that past weekend. “It would probably be a good idea to study Hamlet’s character too since he's the catalyst of her problems.” 

 “No, he isn’t. She already had them to begin with — he just heightened their outcome.” 

 You were so taken aback by his comment, that it took a few seconds for your brain to process everything. But when it finally clicked, you were gaping up at him in astonishment. “I’m sorry, what? You’re going to blame her for the fact that Hamlet was the sole cause of it all?” Your voice was steadily rising, as you began to get irritated by his suggestion. 

 Hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly, as he scribbled down a few things in his notebook. “I mean, yeah. She already had a history of mental disorders, her death was bound to happen anyway.” He matched your tone, words growing louder and ringing out across the small expanse of the library that the two of you were in. 

 “I seriously cannot believe you right now.” You began, shaking your head in anger as you tried to focus on your bright computer screen again. But his argument just rubbed you the wrong way entirely, and you found yourself speaking up again. “I didn’t realize how much of a fucking misogynist you were. But oh, wait— it’s perfectly clear now if the way you treat me is anything to go off of.”

 “I’m not a misogynist, Y/N.” The way his tone curled around the sound of your name did something funny to the depths of your soul. He had never called your name outright like that, never addressed you head-on. And it was both weird and oddly satisfying. “All I’m saying is that her descent into madness was pretty warranted since she was in an already heightened state of emotions.” 

 You gave him a deep glare, tilting your head to the side in annoyance. “Just say you hate women, it’s okay, Hyunjin. I won’t bug you about it.” 

 “Like hell, you won’t.” He mumbled under his breath, long fingers typing out something on his computer. 

 And that was enough to completely set you off. 

 There were no other students around, no professors to tell you off, and no Deans to harp on you about correct student conduct. 

 “Seriously, what the hell is your problem?! You’re so fucking annoying and a total piece of shit. I honestly have no idea how you’re at the top of the school when all you do is belittle others!” This time, you were shouting outright. Throwing him an ominous glare and shutting your computer with a resounding thud. 

 Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, lengthy arms folded across his chest as the rain pelted against the misty window just at his back. “Oh, and like you’re any better? You always love to shove your accomplishments in everyone else’s faces— you ever stop to think how that makes others feel?” He was yelling now too, stroking a hand through his long locks that were steadily dripping with tiny droplets of rainwater. 

 Shaking your head in disappointment, you took in a resounding deep breath. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you’d be an asshole the entire time and I knew we wouldn’t get any work done,” as you said the words, you were already gathering up your things, shoving them into your bag, and leveling him with a cold stare. “So let’s just forget it - this - okay? Just… work on it by yourself and then we can compile our info together the day of and—” 

 “Sit down, Y/N.” 

 The way his command slipped out from between his lips in a low, gravelly voice shook something loose deep within your very being. For a moment, you almost felt compelled to listen to him. Like under a mystical enchantment, your limbs wanted to move on their own accord and seat yourself down again. But the rational part of your brain overtook all other thoughts as you stood your ground and hovered just next to the table. 

 “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not your daddy— you don’t have the authority of the Dean.” 

 For the last few moments, he hadn’t been looking at you, eyes instead trained on his computer still. Almost like, the entire ordeal didn’t bother him that much. Like you were a minor inconvenience to him in the grand scheme of his rich, privileged life. 

 But all at once, he was tipping his head towards the high rafters of the library’s ceiling, stare catching with yours. The stormy look you saw there, dancing around in his brown irises, forced your heart to leap in the pit of your throat. 

 “Don’t make me say it again.” 

 “I’m never going to listen to you, so tough luck, fucker.”

 Taking in a deep breath, his entire body shuddering with the motion, he held your gaze and motioned with a tilt of his head to the seat in front of him that you had just gotten up from. “Sit. Down.” 

 And like a single crack suddenly appearing in a delicate vase, your mind was losing all conscious thought and you were moving without any other thought. His seething, low tone overtook your entire system, his focus on you sending a shock of shivers up the length of your spine again and again, unrelenting. 

 “What?” You asked, noticing the surprised expression on his face from the way that you had fucking listened to him once, seated in your chair again. “I was tired of hearing your stupid demands.” 

 Hyunjin flipped through a few pieces of paper in his notebook before he pushed it your way. “Give that a look over, it’s the notes I took on Ophelia over the weekend.” The idea of him studying for the project just like you had done forced your mind to run rampant with all kinds of thoughts. Like, was he also stressing out about the meeting like you had been doing?

 “I already told you— we’re not working together.” 

 “For Christ’s sake, just give it up!” Hyunjin exclaimed in a loud voice, throwing his hands up into the air in mock defeat. “You act like this is the deciding project of our grade— it’s a fucking weekly assignment. All we have to do is our best, which will be pretty damn good if we’re both working on it.” 

 “So then you admit that I’m a good student.” You raised an eyebrow his way, fingers slowly taking ahold of his notebook and playing with the edges of the paper.

 Taking in a deep sigh, he pointed at the notebook in front of you. “Just focus— okay? I want to get as much work done as possible tonight.” 

 “Fine, but don’t blame me if we get a bad grade because we rush it.” You said, finally raising the white flag of surrender and taking in the contents of his notebook. The notes were detailed and insanely good, highlighting certain formal aspects of Ophelia’s character and the overarching themes of her madness. “Wow— this is… really good.” You said in a quiet voice, almost hoping that he wouldn’t hear it. 

 Rummaging through your nearby bag, you pulled out a pink highlighter to take some notes, and your chosen lollipop for the night, mango flavored. You liked to reward yourself with a fun treat of candy whenever you did late-night studying sessions since the sugar kept your energy levels high and helped to keep you focused. Ever since you were a little girl, you seemed to concentrate better when your mind wasn’t entirely on the content you were studying. 

 “I mean, I’m not coined as one of the school’s top students for nothing,” Hyunjin remarked in a sarcastic tone. You chose to ignore his comment and instead focus on his neat handwriting and the way his words fit in perfectly to the columns of the notebook paper. 

 Everything about him was perfect — from his looks to his academic success to his damn handwriting. Hell, what wasn’t he good at? 

 For one thing, being a nice fucking person. 

 And he seemingly couldn’t grasp the idea of how not to be an asshole to people he didn’t like.

 Unfortunately, you were categorized in his list of people that he hated. 

 As you flipped to the next page in his notebook, your tongue swirled around the lollipop in your mouth. The sugary sweetness of the artificial mango flavor coated your tongue deliciously, and it awakened all of your senses in the best way possible. The minutes seemed to tick by, as you began to make notes based on Hyunjin’s research from his notebook, turning away from the paper and typing into the Word document that you had started for the project.

 Faintly, in the back of your mind, you could hear Hyunjin’s soft inhales and exhales, as he focused on his research. All else was quiet in the library, what with it being completely void of life on a Monday at eleven at night. You could distinctly pick out the sounds of rainfall pitter-pattering just outside the large window behind Hyunjin’s seat, as the night drew on in a heavy mist of dew and moisture. 

 “Why do you hate me so much?” 

 Hyunjin’s words were faint and broke you out of your daze of thought. You had been frantically writing down some of your critiques about Ophelia as a character, and your head shot up from your computer to catch a glimpse of him staring back at you. 

 You didn’t know how long he had been like that, sitting back in his chair, long, raven hair a wavy mess around his face and eyes a little bleary from a mixture of sheer exhaustion and that… darkness that you could never quite pinpoint. You had only ever seen him direct such swarthy looks at you, and that fact disheartened you a lot.

 “I think the real question you should be asking is what’s not to hate about you.” You deadpanned, giving him a deep frown as you poked your lollipop into the corner of one of your cheeks, tucking it away for the moment. 

 Folding his arms across his chest in that abrasive way that he always did around you, he tilted his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, spill the tea.” 

 Taking in a deep breath to stave off your rising nerves and irritation with the man before you, you carded a few fingers through your hair. “To start with, you’re a complete and total asshole.” 

 “I think we’ve already touched on this point by now.” 

 His retort left you to stare daggers into his eyes, wishing someone would just come up behind him and slit his throat because you sure did want to at that moment. But you also supposed that the Dean of the university wouldn’t take a liking to you murdering his son. 

 “Secondly, you’re always stuck up and hard-headed and annoying and… and immature.” 

 Hyunjin blew out a deep, long whisper. “Damn, spare my ego some, will ya?” 

 But you weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon. He had started the engine of the train, and now you were rolling down the tracks of sheer rising anger and all of the pent-up rage that you had felt towards him for the past three years. “And you’re right okay? I am fucking jealous. I’m so jealous of you that I can’t breathe sometimes— you haven’t had to work a day in your life for your position, yet I’ve had to scrape by on my hands and knees, clawing— begging at life to grant me just one fucking break.” You weren't even yelling. Instead, the words just come out hushed and all too grave. 

 Like, if anyone else but him heard them, you’d crumble into a pile of ash and disintegrate into thin air, never to be seen again. Because it was fucking embarrassing, to be so affected by him still, even after all of these years. 

 He stayed silent, watching as you flayed your hands around in the air in your exasperation. You were fed up with your life and the hold that he had over it. You were finally at your breaking point and you had had enough. 

 And you think that at that moment, he had also seen and acknowledged that, staying silent to let all of the words spew out of you like an erupting volcano that had been bound to blow from the very start. 

 “But you? You get everything handed to you on a pretty, silver platter because your daddy is wealthy and you're drop-dead gorgeous and practically have the brain of a neuroscientist. Meanwhile, I was raised by a poor single mother in the slums of Seoul and the only way I got into this university in the first place is because I busted my ass throughout middle and high school to earn the top student’s place,” you pointed a finger between the two of you. Almost like, the tip of it was sharp enough, you could cut right through him. Blade tearing through sinew and flesh and bones. “And then you dare to come around these parts, acting like you own everything, trying to put me in my place. When in reality, you’re the one that needs to be put in your place. Someone needs to knock you down a few pegs, and I’ve always thought… why not me?” 

 For a moment, nothing else happens after that. 

 And irrationally, you’re suddenly afraid of him. 

 Of what he might do — what he might say and to whom — with this newfound information about you. 

 Hardly anyone at school knew about your personal life and struggles. You tended to stay to yourself and instead focus on your studies instead of going out to late-night parties or hitting up the local clubs. And you were an extremely private person, to begin with. You saw no point in pouring out your life's sob story to people you would never see again after four years. 

 But all at once, you wondered if Hwang Hyunjin was a dangerous man. 

 If he was someone who would use your personal information against you. 

 And if the last three years were anything to go off of, you wouldn’t put it past him. 

 “Fuck— I shouldn’t have said all of that,” you grumbled, jamming your fingers into your eye sockets and scrubbing at your lids. “Just… forget all of this, yeah? Forget I said anything.” Then you were standing up from your seat for the second time that night, heart leaping in the pit of your chest as you once again gathered your things into your bag. “It’s late anyways. I should head home and keep studying for my other classes. We can meet up some other time for this, it’s not due til, what… Sunday? That gives us plenty of—”

 “Y/N.” Just like before, the sound of your name on his tongue caused you to pause entirely, limbs halting their movement of shoving your computer into your bag. “Just— shut up, yeah?” His voice came out softer than you expected it would, forcing a shiver down the length of your spine. 

 “Don’t call me that.” 

 “Don’t call you what?” 

 “Y/N.” 

 “Why, because it makes you feel things?” He asked in a gravelly voice. You were avoiding even looking at him at that moment, hands a little shaky as you anxiously started to suck on your lollipop again, rolling it around in the corner of your cheek. “What are you so afraid of?” 

 “You, okay?! It’s always been you!” Your outburst was a lot louder than you expected it to be, ringing across the space between you and echoing in the far distance of the library’s upper-level floor. 

 A beat of silence lapsed between the two of you, and you trained your gaze on a corner of the room, studying the small dust bunny that stood there, completely still and lifeless. In that moment, you could relate to it quite a bit. Lost and confused. Wanting to move away, but not being able to for some weird reason. 

 Hyunjin’s old wooden settee creaked in the silence, as he shifted in his position. “To be honest, I’m scared of you too.” And just like that, your head was snapping his way and your eyes were widening in surprise. “For one, I’m scared of that stupid thing.” With his dark eyes, he motioned towards your mouth. To the lollipop that you were dutifully sucking on, in and out, in and out. You stopped altogether when you realized why he had been so quiet during your studying session. He hadn’t been studying — he had been focusing on you, on the candy in your mouth. Feeling self-conscious about it, you took it out of your mouth and laid it down on the table. “And I’m scared of how you make me feel— crazed out of my mind, all of the time. Like a sick fucking plague, you inhabit my everything… from the moment I wake to the moment I ease, you’re all I can think about, all I can dream about. And I hate it so fucking much that it kills me a little bit more every single day.” 

 “Hyunjin, I—”

 His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull, head tipping back in delight as his lips parted just slightly. “Yes— fuck, say it again.” 

 “Say… what?” 

 “You know.” 

 Heart leaping wildly in your throat, and broken butterflies waning in the depths of your stomach, your mouth was moving on its own accord. “Hyunjin.” 

 Like a trigger being pulled back from a gun and flitting the weapon into action, the bullet was shot across the distance between the two of you. And the bullet was your words — you calling out his name. 

 In an instant, he was a flurry of motion before you. All designer clothes soaked from rainwater and long, wavy hair that still had droplets of water at the tips. He was a flash of milky skin hidden underneath a sheer, wet button-down. The faint, waning moonlight shining through the window pane cast an ominous, angelic-like halo around his tall, built frame. 

 And by the time you could breathe again, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Pinned up against the nearest tall bookshelf that reached up into the height of the library's ceiling. One strong hand pinning your two hands against the wood above your head, while the other was positioned just unearth your chin, holding your jaw bone and stroking the flesh there with a gentle thumb. 

 “Now tell me you feel nothing at all, tell me you fucking hate me with your entire being, that you’ll always hate me, and that you think I’m a deprived cunt who needs to be murdered ruthlessly in front of everyone I love.” His words were hushed, their meaning brutal. His face was so close to yours, that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. Leaning into you, he drove his middle a little closer to the part of your legs. 

 Breath catching painfully between your windpipes and the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with blurry vision. Your attention was growing fuzzy at the edges, as you could do nothing more but hone in on… him. Subconsciously, you could feel the mango sweetness of your lollipop coating your tongue again and again as you swallowed. 

 “I—I hate you so fucking much, Hwang Hyunjin.” 

 He pressed into you a little further, breathing in your scent and closing his eyes as his head tipped close to one part of your neck. Mouth hovering over the shell of your ear, he whispered, “Say it again, sweetheart, with a little more passion this time.” 

 “I… I hate you so much, I can’t function with the thought of you existing in the same lifetime as me.” 

 You felt him moving against you then, hand moving away from your jaw and coming around one of your hips, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your black sweatpants. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, sweetheart…” He started, mouth hovering over that space just behind your ear, warm breath fanning against your exposed gooseflesh there. “I won’t hurt you— it was never my intention in the first place. It was… just a fun game to me, to toy around with you. But I never wanted to actually fucking hurt you.” 

 You could feel your mind and heart racing in tandem, going a mile a minute, as you took in all of his words. Because what, the actual fuck? What was he saying? And why was he saying it? And why did you feel yourself crumbling from it all, your resolve breaking down into dust and getting whisked away to the future of Neverland? 

 “I never meant to make you cry,” He said slowly, pulling away from your face just a tiny bit to gauge your reaction to his confession. You gaped up at him, completely speechless in your unadulterated wonder. “Sure, I wanted to make you cry— but not in the cruel kind of way… not in the way that most people would like to do.”

 His insinuation, his innuendo there, jumbled something around deep inside of your spirit. And you could practically feel your knees buckling underneath you from the reality of it all. From the fact that he was never truly set out to cause you permanent damage. And so far, he hadn’t. All he had done was make an ass out of himself and be a continual thorn in your side. But he wasn’t necessarily entirely cruel, and you never truly suspected that he’d do something catastrophically damaging. 

 “But all you have to do is tell me— tell me you never thought about me or dreamed about me or wondered about me, and I’ll be gone forever. You’ll never hear, or see me again. It’ll be like I never existed in the first place and I—”

 “I can’t fathom a life without you in it,” you suddenly blurted out, already feeling the hint of crimson blooming beneath your cheeks and at the tip of your nose. You peered up at him, staring into those depthless, chocolate-brown eyes, reading the dancing emotions there. “Sure, I might despise your guts at times, but… I also think you’re a pretty amazing guy. And… I have to admit that sometimes, I do think about you when I’m alone, at night, and laying in my bed.” 

 His hand clutched a little tighter at your hip then, his fingers intertwining with yours and continuing to hoist your arms up and above your head. “Oh yeah? What do you imagine when you think about me so late into the night?” He rasped out, the sound of his voice grating against your ears and sending flames to burst across the entirety of your veins. 

 “Your face, mostly— how your lips would feel and how you’d taste and what you’d sound like if—”

 After that, you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence. 

 He was honing in on you like a vulture to its prey, moving with such swiftness — like a phantom in the night, like a monster hidden underneath the bed, like a selkie in the depths of the ocean. 

 As it turns you, your dreams about him were accurate. 

 Because his plush lips did feel like pure heaven. 

 They pushed against yours, his mouth fitting atop yours like something that was carved into the universe — something that was almost meant to be. He was devouring you whole — heart and mind and soul and body. 

 And with each press of his silky lips, you fell down the hole of darkness and heat just a little bit more. Then the tip of his tongue was poking out and tracing the line of your mouth and you fell into him, fingers clawing at his that still had your arms held up high above your head, desperately searching for purchase as your legs threatened to give out underneath you. 

 When his tongue plowed into the small part between your lips, you let out a breathless moan. The kind that had been hidden deep, buried, and un-satiated for so fucking long. By the time he was tasting you, his hands had released your arms and you were scrambling for something to hold. Desperately, in your haste of arousal and temptation, you were clutching at the cool, wet fabric of his cream-colored button-down, holding on for dear life as his hands tightened around your waist and hoisted you up against the bookshelf further. 

 Your spine crammed into the wooden shelves there, as you wrapped your legs around his torso, yanking him closer with each passioned kiss that he gave you. Again and again, he drew those same, sinful sounds out of you. Just like all of the times before, he was playing a sick kind of game with you. But this time, it wasn’t all that bad. This time, you were quite enjoying yourself. 

 As your parted legs held his hips close to your frame, you could feel the hardness there, in the center of him. Just aching to be released. And suddenly, you came to terms with the fact that the wetness between your legs was rapidly growing with each kiss that he gave you. 

 He sucked on your lips like they were his lifeline — and you wondered, in that moment, how he’d treat the rest of you — how much attention he’d offer the rest of your body. 

 “J-Jin, I—” The shortened nickname slipped out between your lips when the two of you parted to catch your breaths. And when you noticed his swollen mouth, you were almost positive that yours looked just as bad, if not worse. 

 “What, baby doll?” He hummed, mouth moving away from yours entirely and coming close to the line of your jaw. You blushed wildly at the pet name, liking the way it sounded in his silky voice. He moved aside the thick fabric of your violet-colored knit turtleneck with his nose, lips attaching to the skin of your neck and suckling like a vampire drunken on the crimson of his lover. “What is it that you need right now?” 

 Your hands were scrambling for him, finding purchase in his dark roots and pulling just a tad bit there. The abuse to his scalp made him hiss out, warm breath painting across the heated flesh of the column of your neck brilliantly. “N—Need you t—to—” But your words were cut short by the way one of his hands was moving away from your waist, traveling under the hemline of your sweater, a long, nimble finger dancing across your belly button and rising to the center of your stomach. 

 “You need me, hmm?” He mused lowly, mouth having journeyed down to the skin closest to your clavicle, leaving violet-hued marks that would surely survive into the next few days. “Need me to fuck you, right? Need me to take you so irrevocably well right here and right now… can’t wait any longer, yeah?” As he spoke the words into existence, his naughty hand was already finding its way toward the lace of your bralette, skirting across its edges. Then, a single finger dipped underneath the elastic there, skirting up the length of your breast until it was resting against your pebbled nub. “Such a naughty little thing… who knew that the university’s prodigy just needed a good fucking, huh? That all she wanted was to get fucked open against the library bookshelves.” 

 You were gasping out in pure bliss, fingers digging in a little harder into his long wisps of hair as his hands began to explore your chest. Brushing, twisting, pulling. Then doing it all over again with the other mound. “Y—Yeah,” you managed to spit out, trembling underneath him, legs wounding tighter around his waist, bringing him ever closer. “Can you do that… fuck me? I need it so bad right now, I can’t handle it if you just leave me like this…” You were practically begging out the words, so desperate in your pleas that you were almost certain your groveling was boosting his already inflated ego. 

 “I only fuck good girls. Girls who don’t call me an asshole and don’t say they hate me.” 

 At that, your eyes were tearing open in a mix of surprise and despair. But the way that his hand didn’t stop touching your breasts, still playing with them, told you everything you needed to know at that moment. 

 You wiggled your hips slowly, grinding into the hardness between his dark-washed jeans. “Stop touching me then— stop kissing me and stop looking at me,” you began, taunting him with your movements and the way that you spoke in a velvety tone, all soft and delicate and innocent. When what the two of you were doing was anything but innocent. “But you can’t, right? Can’t get the thought of me out of your head— of what this pussy would feel like clenched around your cock, squeezing you for dear life as you fuck into me for the hundredth time in a single day—” 

 He was cutting off your words with his quick hands, shedding off your sweater and bralette in one go. Then he was bending down slowly, hands coming up to cup your chest. He stared up at you from his crouched position, watching the feelings rove across your face as he blew hot hair against one of your nipples. 

 “Just fucking shut up already bitch,” he said in a low grumble, as his hand came over your tit, mouth melding onto the warm skin there effortlessly. His other hand was busy playing with your neglected breast, squeezing there a little bit harder when his teeth grazed one of your nipples, tongue lapping at the bud. “You’re only to speak when spoken to, you understand me?” He asked, pulling away from your breast and making a crude, wet sucking noise as he did so.

 Glaring down at him through lust-filled eyes, you sneered his way. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, asshole.” Hands gripping onto his hair a little bit, you pushed his face closer to your chest as he began to work on your other breast, leaving a ring of wetness as he went. “And don’t call me bitch.”

 You could feel him smirk against your skin, his low chuckle vibrating against your gooseflesh and sending ripples of energy to course through your veins. “Mhm— why not? Your pussy sure seems to love the name.” He mused sadistically, completely unlatching from your breast, hands finding their way back at your hips. 

 “What are you even talk—”

 But he didn’t leave any more room for questions, one hand ripping away from your waist and covering your covered centre. “This, right here,” he said in a low whisper, fingers cupping your warmth there, and you could practically feel the essence dripping out of you, just behind your thin panties and sweatpants. “Bet you’ll get even more soaked when I call you it again.”

 “You know nothing about me.” The words came out garbled and wobbly, as he maneuvered your sweatpants down and off of your legs entirely. “Y—You don’t know my body.” 

 He threw you a sardonic kind of smile, leaning into the side of you, lips caressing the shell of your ear as he spoke in soft tones. “Yeah, but I’ve done a hell of a lot of observing over the years…” At his words, you could feel his hand nearing your middle again, and you involuntarily parted your legs in want. 

 When his fingers came in contact with the lace of your panties, you had to pull out your biggest bout of self-control to hold in the moan that wanted to escape from you. His movements were expert level, as he pushed the fabric off to the side, running a single finger up your lips, feeling for that small spot at the very top. Circling his thumb around there, his other fingers worked at your entrance, and before you knew it, he was pressing two long digits into you. 

 “F—Fuck—“ You groaned at the feeling of it all, falling into him and clawing at his shoulders that were still covered in that damp button-up shirt. “Hyunjin.” You were moaning out his name before you even realized it, hips jutting up slowly against his hand, your head getting thrown back as his fingers searched and found that warm, gooey spot deep inside of you. 

 “See? I know exactly what the fuck I’m doing,” he muttered, lips coming around the side of your neck and suckling violet marks into the skin there. “So be a good bitch and shut up for me, yeah? Take it like a good girl— like the good whore that I know you are.” 

 You couldn’t even protest against him using the name again, because, in all honesty, you did like it. It felt dirty and wrong but so very fucking right at the same time. It caused your walls to spasm against the three fingers he had stuck inside of you, as he pumped in and out with a rabid kind of pace. The sound of his movements forced shivers down the length of your spine, as his thumb pressed into your clit a little more. 

 “Y—You gotta fuck me now, Jin—” You mumbled, already reaching the edge of orgasm from the way that he was steadily working you up with his hand alone. Half of his fingers were buried deep inside of you and the others were desperately clutching at your hip bone to bring you closer to him. The sounds he was pulling from you, both wetness and moans of pleasure, were other-worldly. “N—Need to feel your cock inside of me, right fucking now.” 

 In your daze of lust, you found yourself clasping at the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them and sliding his damp shirt off of his frame. What lay underneath was a chiseled chest — a muscular abdomen, biceps that rippled with each breath he took, and a dark trail that led towards his dick. You ran your fingers down the milky expanse of his chest, marveling at how soft and chiseled everything felt. 

 Sighing out quietly, you stared up at him with pleading eyes. “You’re so fucking hot… always knew you would be.” That made Hyunjin smirk with satisfaction, as he tipped into you for a breathless kiss. 

 While his lips captured your own, you could feel his hands working at your panties, sliding them off your legs and leaving you completely bare. Then you heard the clanking noise of a belt coming undone, as he unmistakably rid himself of his pants and boxers. 

 Then he was parting from your mouth, focus turned down to where the centers of your bodies met together. Your mouth fell open at the sight of… him. All seven-and-a-half inches, long shaft curving upward in arousal and precum leaking out of the pretty red tip. A single vein ran down the side, bulging from his unchecked want.

 “Need you to be nice and loud for me, yeah?” He growled in that low tone of his, as he guided himself near your entrance. “Let the entire school know who you belong to— scream my name, bitch, and tell everyone who fucking owns you.” 

 His words jumbled around inside of your mind, making you feel lightheaded as he slowly began to slide into you. You widened your legs a little bit for him, wrapping them around his waist as he quickly bottomed out. The stretch was only slight and left you hissing with relief when he was fit into you at the hilt.

 Without any warning, he was sliding out almost completely, before thrusting back in, hitting into you so roughly, that your spine jammed into the wooden bookshelf at your back. And just like that, he was setting a hellish pace. One that was sure to make you crumble before him — fall apart at the seams. 

 “Mhm— fuck!” You screamed out in a guttural voice, throwing your head back against the bookshelf desperately as his hips snapped against yours feverishly. You were gripping onto his shoulders so hard, running your nails down his back, that you were sure you’d leave red marks later. “Holy shit- feels so good!”

 One of Hyunjin’s hands traveled away from your waist, long, nimble fingers digging into your scalp, yanking at the hair there. “Louder, bitch— take it all like the filthy slut that you are.” He shouted, voice coming out raspy as he pounded into you roughly. 

 In the very back of your mind, you distinctly heard the pitter-patter of rainfall against the nearby windowpane mixing in with the sounds of the two of you  — skin slapping against skin and wetness squelching. It was straight out of a porno and made your head swim with so many dirty thoughts. Breath catching in the center of your throat, you found your lips opening up and releasing a blood-curdling cry of pleasure. 

 Your noises of ecstasy seemed to compel Hyunjin forward with drive, as he rutted into you in a manic kind of way, thumb tracing figure-eight symbols into your inflamed clit. Almost like, if he didn’t get it out of his system, he’d never be able to live afterward — wouldn’t be able to breathe or think or speak. The tip of him hit up into that warm spot inside of you, and you clenched a little harder around this throbbing cock every time he teased you right there. 

 “Fuck— I can’t… I’m gonna…” You groaned out loudly. Your eyes flittered into the back of your skull from the way that he pulled at your hair at the same time that he fucked up into you. 

 Hyunjin grunted out lowly, hips snapping against yours with each thrust. “J—Just a little farther, doll face…” From the way that his domineering tone was slipping away, you could tell that he was also creeping near the edge of release. 

 You could feel the slip and slide between your legs, your essence coating every surface of your inner thighs and making everything feel silky and smooth. The intensity of his movements slowed down somewhat, the frenzy of his rocking leveling out as he chased your guys’ highs. 

 “Yes… right there!” You mewled out breathlessly just as the tip of him hit so far into you, that entire galaxies were cast against the expanse of your closed eyes. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire — the flush creeping down the column of your purple-marked neck and into the depths of your soul as he continued to circle your bundle of nerves. 

 Walls clenching around his cock that was buried deep inside of your warmth, you could feel the moment Hyunjin found that blissful space of his release. “I’m gonna come— fuck—” He rasped out, his voice on the quiet side as he lost all semblance of control. 

Hips stuttering against yours, he made to pull out of you completely. But you found yourself shaking your head, eyes shooting open, and giving him a serious frown. “N—No… want you to… come inside…” Your head was empty of all thoughts, as you could do nothing more but focus on the way that he felt so close to you - so far deep inside. 

 At that, Hyunjin was offering you a tiny, satisfied grin. Then he was seizing up inside of you, cock stretching against your walls as he met his high. It overtook his entire system, overruling all other obstacles and forcing his head backward in pure, orgasmic bliss. The prettiest sounds fell from his plump, crimson, kiss-swollen lips, as he let himself slip down the cliff with ease. 

 The feeling of his release painting your walls in warm whiteness caused your entire body to convulse with pleasure, as you finally found your high. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before… perfect and whole and so fucking hot. Bursts of rose and topaz and turquoise splashed across the inner workings of your mind, as your insides fluttered around Hyunjin’s cock that fit perfectly between your legs. 

 “Holy shit, that was…” You said breathlessly after you had begun to come down from your high. Cracking your eyes open you noticed the darkness still there in Hyunjin’s gaze, and the way that his eyes slit shut with want. The sound of the rain outside lulled your mind into a perfect state of peaceful limbo. “What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow his way in question. “What is it?” 

 He shrugged slowly, eyes coming away from your connected middles and locking with yours. “Nothing, just… I can’t fucking believe you just let me cum inside of you— with no protection.” 

 You could feel his cock softening inside of you, and finally, your legs stopped shaking around his waist. “Why? You don’t like the idea of that?” Beginning to pull away from him, you tried to yank as far away from his cock as you could. “If you didn’t like it, you should’ve—”

 Hyunjin’s mouth was coming onto you in the next beat, capturing your lips up into a heated kiss, stealing the labored breath right from your lungs and sucking on your puffy bottom lip. “Just shut the fuck up, alright. I fucking loved it… it was so hot— you’re so hot. Makes me wanna come in you every single day.” You could feel him move between your legs then, as he began to fuck his seed back into your aching walls. In the back of your mind, you could feel his hand lazily working at you, pushing a single digit back into your entrance between his cock, thrusting in the cum that was splattered across your thighs.  

 Groaning out softly at his words, you placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed a little bit so that you could get a look at his face again. It was filled with so much lust and want and adoration, the sight of it all almost overwhelmed you entirely. “Well, I suppose I could allow that…” Your voice trailed off, as you dragged a single finger up the center of his chest and towards the sharp line of his jaw. “If it’s with you— then yeah, you can fuck me raw every day.” 

 Hyunjin let out a low noise, which sounded like a mix between a moan and a cry for help. “But we can’t, baby doll— it wouldn’t be smart and I’d never want to put you in any kind of uncomfortable position.” 

 You found yourself shrugging off his concerns nonchalantly, as you drove your hips a little forward, meeting his shallow strokes. You loved the feeling there, of wetness and silky essence. “Yeah, but… the good thing is, at least we’d know who the father is.” 

 At that, he was flashing you a wicked smirk, pearly white glinting against puffy, red lips. His tiny smile was the last thing you saw before he was tipping into you and fitting his mouth around yours again. “Oh, you devilish little minx… I think I’ll keep you for a very long time.” 

 In the back of your mind, you could feel him moving against you, cock already stiffening again just from your words and insinuations alone. But at that moment, you weren’t too worried about what he planned to do with you for the rest of the night. Because right then, all you wanted to focus on was his face, and the way he let you ring your arms around his neck, pulling at the hair at his nape as he pressed kiss after impassioned kiss to your mouth. 

 It turns out that your roommate Felix had been right after all. In the end, working with Hwang Hyunjin hadn’t been that horrible. 

 It had been quite… nice. 

 Despite all of the bickering and shouting. 

 After a while, the rough bumps and edges of your rocky relationship seemed to mellow out between the tall bookshelves of the library. And before you knew it- he had you completely bending at his will — practically groveling at his feet for his love, attention, and care. 

 In the end, you supposed that that’s what you had always wanted from each other, and that’s why you had been so horrible to one another. If you couldn’t garner each other’s attention with regular conversations and friendship, the next best thing was to be rivals in your academics and throw insults at every opportunity you were offered. 

 But the thing about trying to hate Hwang Hyunjin — trying to hate such a smart, caring, passionate man — is that eventually, one’s willpower always breaks down, and they’re left in a pile of mess and limbs as they search out his affection. 

Fin.

🌊 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌊 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @/leyknxw :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @/annsunakai :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @cb97breathing :: @armystay89 :: @drhsthl :: @skzcollision :: @noellllslut :: @skz-streamer :: @hello-2-u-from-me :: @h0p3l3ssromantic :: @bangchanbighandsome :: @imastraykidsfan :: @feellikecinderella :: @hyundumpling :: @/weirdkoaladuck ::@hyunnieshannie :: @astralis-is-typing

a blue tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

[riaaanna]

Reprint of John Harris' article from Music Life special edition August 1977. 📸 scans-ish by me. Translation by deathtoming. No repost pls.

For @justlike-awoman ❤

An exclusive first-hand account from Queen’s exclusive engineer

Current exclusive engineer and former chief road manager John Harris has been friends since before the group was formed. The true nature of the four members, as only he would know.

They haven’t changed since the old days… - John Harris, Queen’s exclusive engineer

I was classmates with Brian In the middle of the audience’s cheers shouting for an encore, and their thunderous applause, I found myself absentmindedly thinking back to when I first met the four members of Queen, Freddie, Roger, Brian, and John. Their debut in Japan last year, among feelings of hope and uncertainty. And they set foot in Japan again this year, not having changed one bit since I first met them. Well, aside from the fact that they became “stars”...

Five or six years ago, I was a student studying at Imperial College. I wasn’t a very serious student, but still I studied as one would, and socialized as one would, and greatly enjoyed my student lifestyle. Through that university lifestyle, I met a certain guy, formed a friendship with him that continues to this day, and was able to make the conditions for me to do this job that I have now.

That guy was, unlike me, a very serious student. He was bright on top of being serious, so naturally he had better grades than guys like me, and was always outstanding, and while we were unlike each other, we got along a fair bit, and spent time together outside of school, too. During this time, I learned that this guy that I thought was strictly serious was actually crazy about rock music. Now that I’ve written this much, this “guy,” who is tall and a friend with the top grades, has surely been recognized as Brian May by fans.

I’ve known the members of Queen since they first formed, so from the very beginning, in other words. Although I’m working exclusively for them as an engineer, it’s not that I always wanted to be an engineer. I met Freddie, Brian, and Roger, and when they first formed Queen, it all started when I helped them transport amps, instruments, and other gear.

Queen was a collection of poor students back then. Still, Freddie graduated from art school, and Roger got a degree in science. Brian also earned a degree, and apparently was going to keep going towards a PhD, but after putting a lot of thought into whether he should continue with Queen or keep studying, he made the decision to be a musician.

It’s not like there were jobs lined up everywhere they looked after they graduated. Life had to be difficult for this group of unsuccessful musicians. The story of Freddie and Roger working at a boutique in Kensington Market is now well-known.

The four of them have not changed at all It wasn’t easy to continue working little by little on their music careers while working part-time. No matter where they went, they had to carry their instruments, amps, and gear on their own. I was with them, and at that time I had a plain, small, light van. I started to become responsible for loading amps and guitars into this van and taking them to wherever they were playing. When I look back at it now, this was the first step in eventually working as an engineer for Queen.

Needing a bass player, John joined Queen about two years after the group was formed. The circumstances surrounding that have been covered already by numerous magazines and newspapers, so I won’t go into details.

I got to know Brian first, then Freddie and Roger, and then finally John, and I still remember well how I met each of them for the first time. I often get asked by lots of people whether the members have changed over the years. Most of the people who ask me that are guessing that their simplicity from before is no longer there. However, as far as I can tell, Freddie, Roger, Brian, and John have not changed at all. Queen have become so successful, and they’ve become stars, but their personalities are the same as when I first met them.

I wonder if they never thought of themselves as stars? They haven’t changed in the 5-6 years I’ve known them, to the point where sometimes I almost forget that they’re members of the famous Queen. That’s why when I see them being followed around by young girls at train stations, hotels, and around town on this Japanese tour, I get a little surprised. These kinds of scenes seem more common than when they first came to Japan. All of the members apparently wanted to talk to the fans, but it’s impossible with this many people.

An unforgettable memory I reprised my role as engineer on this Japanese tour. However, I only work as an engineer mostly on tour. I’m also with them in the studio when they’re recording an album, but they hire other people as studio engineers. When the four of them enter the studio, they become very serious. And they complete their work after much painstaking work, and fans end up with an album.

I like Queen as friends, of course, but I also like them as musicians. I often listen to their albums when I’m at home. My favourites are Queen II and A Night at the Opera. Right, there’s I’m in Love with My Car. Roger wrote this song for me, and both Roger and I are very much into cars. The two of us have gone to see car races, and sometimes we even race cars ourselves. However, maybe Roger’s many fans wouldn’t approve of such dangerous activities.

On top of being an engineer for their live shows, sometimes they ask me for my opinion about various things. For example, what song was the most well-received that day, or the set up of the stage. During a concert, the lights are so bright that they can’t see behind the stage. Me, I always set up the equipment behind the stage, and have a seat. That’s why it’s immediately clear which songs are well-received and what kinds of reactions the audience has. When a concert goes well on a particular day, the four of them listen attentively to my advice. But if they’re ever in a bad mood, there can be trouble. It’s better not to say anything when that happens. The four of them become extremely high-strung before and after concerts.

What that means is, that’s how serious they are when it comes to their music. They’re always thinking about the progress and growth of the Queen sound. Their day-to-day lifestyles can also be seen as different from those of the typical guys in rock groups. There aren’t too many occasions of them getting drunk and wild. Roger probably drinks the most out of the four of them. But still, it’s not that Roger is a heavy drinker. On top of that, the four of them never drink before a show. That’s how much they focus on their act.

That’s how much nervous energy they use on stage, and when they go on tour, they spend a long time travelling from one place to another, and the daily round trips from hotels to airports continue. I grew tired of this lifestyle several times. There’s no doubt that the members felt this way as well. However, there’s a sense of happiness you get from living in this harsh world that you couldn’t get elsewhere. I still remember it well. The day I first heard a Queen record on the radio…. That was Seven Seas of Rhye, Queen’s first hit single in the UK. We were all slapping each other’s shoulders and jumping around, raising a ruckus.

Also, the day Queen first appeared on the popular TV show Top of the Pops was also memorable. The day Queen first played in Japan last year, too…. On the first day at the Budokan, there were over 10 000 audience members. Up until then, they had only performed to audiences of at most 4,000 people in the UK, and now they were performing in Tokyo to 10,000 people. The excitement and emotions felt were unforgettable.

Four distinct personalities I don’t know how long I’ll be working with Queen. I might get tired of touring as I get older, and I might become a studio engineer at that point. However, as long as Queen exists, I’ll likely be by their side. That’s how much of a good friend they are to me, and how appealing they are as musicians.

Lastly, I’d like to write about each of their personalities from the point of view of their friend. First of all, John, the youngest member, as you’re aware. He’s extremely wise, and he also understands well the essence of business. He doesn’t talk very much in interviews, but if he has a little bit to drink, he becomes a cheerful jokester, that John.

Next is Roger, a truly easy-going guy. He doesn’t fret and think too deeply about things, and doesn’t get seriously concerned about life. His philosophy seems to be that life is there to be enjoyed, and every day he thinks about how to go about enjoying life. Roger is also the type to go drinking and merrymaking on occasion.

Brian is the opposite of Roger. His personality is the kind that seriously frets and worries about everything. However, when it’s about the world in general, he doesn’t care very much. What he’s interested in is the theory behind the music.

Freddie is slightly impatient, and can be generous. He’s the kind of person who would buy a gift for anyone right away, and spends a lot of money on that. He’s up-and-down with his mood, and when he’s in a good mood, Freddie is truly kind, but if something he doesn’t like happens on stage, or if there’s a problem with the music, he gets angry like a roaring fire. He’s a perfectionist that is hard on himself, just as he is hard on others.

I like my current job, and I really like the four members of Queen as people. It’s true that they have become “stars.” Still, the fact that they will be life-long friends hasn’t changed.

[From the (Music Life) special issue of August 1977]

[s0urw00lf]

Trouble

Request: Hi, I was wondering since you write for the marauders if you could write a fic (even just a short one) where Y/n is a professor at hogwarts and was kinda familiar with the marauders while at school.

So when Remus accept the job they get close and they kinda have to sneak around because it's not professional to date a colleague.

Pairing: Remus lupin x reader

Summary: Y/n had always taken a special interest into the marauders, specifically the tall lanky book nerd they she competed with from top of the class in school. Now over 10 years later they finally became more than just friendly rivals, but in secret.

Warnings: fluff, sneakin around, and overly nosy snape.

AN: the day I write a short fic will be the day I run out of imagination. Because for some reason I have to give backstory, build up, and THEN I get to the point, also i write on my computer so it looks like a lot less than what I’m actually writing. (Update: I didn’t write a lot for this because I’m tired and wanted to get it done) Anyway thank you for the submission and I hope you enjoy.

Something about him had always intrigued you. Maybe it was how smart he was, his beautiful brown doe eyes, or the way he always seemed to be the most rational thinker of all his friends.

You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to. All you knew was that you liked him. A lot. In school you two were friendly rivals competing for the best grades but nothing more than that. You wished it were though, and you were going to ask him out but the war against the dark lord escalated so quickly one moment you were students running around Hogwarts trying to make it to class on time and the next you were trying to avoid any sudden deaths.

After that, you completely lost contact with him. To be honest you forgot all about him until you were informed by Minerva that he’d be taking up the position of the new DADA teacher. “Wait you said Remus lupin?” You tried as hard as you could to keep your expression neutral, and you did as far as you knew. “Yes y/n Remus Lupin will be the new defense against the dark arts teacher” she replied eyeing you through her glasses with the faintest smirk ever, before excusing herself.

“Still pining mindlessly over him after all this time. Figures.” Severus quipped in his usual monotone voice after McGonnogal walked away. “You’re one to talk” you replied eyeing him with a glare and walking away. When you got back to your classroom you let out the girliest squeal you could. You may or may not have ever gotten over your small crush on the boy man.

𐂂𓅓𓆗⚯❾¾ ▕⃝⃤

About a month later school had started back and the hustle and bustle of the school had returned. Even though it had been a week into school, you still had yet to run into Remus, much to your dismay. Until one night you were carrying a load of textbooks you borrowed from Professor Flitwick back to your classroom and kept dropping them. Eventually, you gave up and just plopped down to the floor contemplating how you were gonna get these textbooks to your classroom without your wand. “You know you could always ask for help” a smooth voice spoke from behind you, causing you to jump, and turn around. “Godric Remus a little warning next time would be nice, jeez,” you said placing a hand to your chest feeling your heart racing out of control. “My apologies i forgot how easy it is to sneak around these halls” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh and turned back to the books, “I would’ve but I didn’t want to disturb anyone” you said standing up, and putting your hands on your hips. He bent down to pick up a little over half of the books “Well lucky you, I’m here undisturbed and happy to help” he teased. You rolled your eyes with a small smile, he still had his boyish charm from when you were kids. You picked up the remaining books off of the floor, “well since you’re so eager, follow me” you teased, leading him back to your classroom.

As time went on you and Remus became closer and closer, maybe closer than you should’ve been. The kids noticed it, how you’d always sat beside each other in the great hall, or when you’d have conjoined lessons. But one thing you didn’t expect was when Snape started popping in out of the blue. Remus sat at his desk grading papers with one hand on your thigh as you sat on his desk reading a book, The only noise filling the room was the sound of his quill scribbling on the papers. That was until the door to the classroom opened and Snape swiftly walked through. Remus discreetly removed his hand from your thigh “You know a knock would be nice” you stated with irritation. He stopped at the desk “Knocking would indicate you’re doing something you wouldn’t want anyone to see” he sneered, placing a bottle of potion on the desk for Remus “It's called common courtesy, mama ever teach you about it?” You said sliding off of the table to face him fully. The scowl on his face made you want to give the most satisfied smirk but you decided against it. He then turned to Remus “Make sure you drink it before the end of the week I'll have you another by the time the full moon comes around”

Remus thanked him, and he made his exit. You groaned “he’s like the annoying cousin who’s always trying to get you in trouble” you whined. Remus grabbed your hips bringing you closer “Has he been like that all these years?” He asked looking up at you. You ran your hands through his hair softly scratching his scalp, “you have to ask? He’s been like that since we were kids” you snorted. Remus chuckled leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He looked like he was being touched by an angel. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Pulling away slightly “Even if he did find out, he’d never tell. He knows better” and returned to the kiss until he pulled away “I don’t want his face in my head while I’m kissing you love,” he said. you winced “Fair point, no more Snape. Just us,” you said moving to sit on his lap so you would have to keep leaning over to kiss him.

[anniesannex]

You’re So Art Deco

Chapter one

Sugar daddy !Johnny Cage x reader

Description: you are a struggling college student who needs some cash. Your friend suggests a sugar daddy but you wouldn’t do that. Right?

A/n: this is literally my first time posting my writing like ever so I’m a little nervous to be doing this.

With a dramatic sigh, you enter the dorm you’ve been working so hard for you’ve barely had to relax in. Between school and work you’ve barely had time to sleep. Luckily you had a day off the next day.

“Bad day?” Grace asked as she brushed her long golden locks. “I don’t know why you don’t just quit that shithole (Y/n).” Of course she wouldn’t.

“Because I need the money Grace.” You sigh as you take your hair down. “Or else I can’t cover what my scholarship doesn’t.”

“You’re literally killing yourself though.”

“Grace.” You Sighed. “I love you but I don’t want to engage in this conversation right now.”

“If you need the money I’m sure my dad ca-”

“I’m not taking money from your dad, Grace. I appreciate that you worry about me but I can’t.” You pull out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Shedding the uniform for your shitty minimum wage job.

“Can you at least tell me what happened today.”

“The usual, rude people treating me like I’m fucking stupid, my manager being a sexist freak, and of course that guy who keeps trying to hit on me came in.”

“I fucking hate that guy.” Grace spat. “You sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight (y/n/n)? It’s not the same without you there.”

“I’m exhausted Gracie, as much as I’d love to I can’t.” You got your laptop to work on your school work.

“Why not get a sugar daddy?” Grace suggested. “It’s definitely help. Plus you can get to bang some hot dilfs.” She winked as you rolled your eyes.

“Girl I’m not getting a sugar daddy.” You sighed. “By the way where’s the Tito’s?”

“I just got a new bottle, it’s in the fridge.”

“Thank you so much.” You grabbed it out of the fridge and opened it. “You’re literally the best person ever. Y’know that?”

“You seem to tell me that a lot. Thank you (y/n).” She smiled. “But take it easy with the Tito’s tonight. I don’t wanna have to put you to bed again.”

“I will.” You paused to take the shot. “Have fun tonight. Tell them I said hi and that I miss them.”

“Will do.” Grace grabbed her bag as she left the dorm. As you continued to work to you thought more and more at the idea of having a sugar daddy. It would definitely take a load off you. After the debating the pros and cons you signed up for a dating app meant to find sugar daddies.

“I really hope I don’t get fucking scammed.” You sassed to yourself as you made your username. Once you had an account you looked through all the possible matches you had. None of them really piqued your interest as you looked through them until-.

“Ooo he’s kinda hot!” You exclaimed as you ready his username and bio.

Johnny, 49

@JohnC95

Sagittarius

6’1

Hobbies: martial arts, long walks on the beach, and looking in the mirror.

Looking for someone to spoil ;).

You had clicked to accept him as a possible match when the words ‘it’s a match!’ Appeared on screen. It was only a matter of seconds until the first message came in.

@JohnC95: ‘well hello there gorgeous. It seems like we’ve matched.’

@y/n:’ it seems like it haha.’

“What the fuck is going on right now?!” You thought out loud.

@johnC95: so what are you doing right now?

@y/n: working on course work and drinking.

@johnC95: she’s educated I see. Also are you old enough to be drinking?

@y/n: I’m old enough. So what are you doing?

@johnC95: sitting through dinner w/ execs. Discussing my next film. Although I’d rather be w/ you, doll ;).

Film? You wonder what he does.

@y/n: that’s sweet of you. What do you do?

@JohnC95: I’m THE Johnny Cage.

Johnny Cage? That’s definitely a scam. You were rolling you eyes as you typed.

@y/n: I don’t believe you. send pics.

@JohnC95: better yet why not FaceTime?

You blushed at his boldness but typed as you got up from your bed.

@y/n: what abt the ‘execs’?

@JohnC95: said I had to take a call. They can wait on me.

@y/n: just let me get into something that isn’t pajamas and I’ll be on the phone.

@JohnC95: will do doll!

You look in your closet for something that was cute. It had been a while since you were in something other than your work uniform or pajamas so you had forgotten what most of your closet looked like. You had been rummaging around until you found a black dress with a red jacket a pair of tights and leg warmers to go over heeled boots. After putting that on you spent a little time on your hair and put on a little makeup before typing.

@y/n: I’m ready ‘Johnny’.

Within a few seconds the laptop had begun ringing. You nervously hit answer, wondering who was going to be at the other end.

“Wow you’re gorgeous.” Johnny spoke as you sigh out of relief for not being scammed. “See I’m really a big ol’ pile of sexy goodness.”

“Thank you Johnny. Sorry about doubting you.” You apologized.

“It’s fine, so what are you drinking?” Johnny asked.

“Tito’s. Just titos.”

“Wow straight vodka, you are bold.” Johnny paused. “What’s your Venmo?”

“My Venmo?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s (y/n)14. Why?” You had questioned.

“Just check it. In two seconds.” Johnny’s face had be taken over by a fuzzy screen as he seemed to be doing something on his phone. As you pulled out your phone to check your Venmo.

From JohnC95

$600.00

“For talking to me on the phone.”

“Johnny, I can’t accept this.” You started “I’ll se-”

“I want you to have it. I like you, (y/n).” Johnny looked sincere. “But I should go. I’ll talk to you very soon Doll.”

“Good night Johnny Cage.” You smiled. As the call ended and you got ready for bed again. You wondered how in the hell managed to find Johnny Cage on a sugar daddy dating app. Wasn’t he like married? You decided to look it up as you got back into bed.

“Christina Ford and Sonya Blade. Both divorced.” You spoke. A new dilemma came across your mind in how the fuck you were gonna tell Grace.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned at the thought. Before you heard a ping from your laptop.

@JohnC95: goodnight Doll, sweetest of dreams :).

You thought of a response back as you put the money into your account. It would help towards paying for college.

@y/n: night, Cage. Enjoy those Hollywood executives.

You flopped your head back down on the pillow as you heard the door to your dorm be opened.

“Holy shit. The night I had.” Grace sighed. “You were right t-”

“I FOUND A SUGAR DADDY AND ITS JOHNNY CAGE!”

[the-burd-lord]

Heavily inspired by @deafenedsaltwater 's concepts. Idk what was in that post, but it sparked me to make a whole heap of sketches and ideas. Dunno how far I'm gonna roll with this concept, but for now it's rollin kinda far.

Loads of info below:

Four is the math teacher with X as his TA. Four's one of those teachers that really knows the material, but because they know it so well he thinks it should be easy for anyone to get. So they're kinda harsh with the students if they get something wrong.

Whereas X gives more positive reinforcements for students, and isn't as harsh with them. X doesn't know as much of the material, and probably looks to the teacher's textbook if they're lost. One of those teachers who kinda learns with the class.

Airy is the school's nurse and teaches the Home E.C. class, and he's awful at both jobs. When he's not starting fires or teaching the course like it's some kind of wilderness survival camp, he's mainly works as the nurse.

As a nurse, he misdiagnoses things constantly if it's not an obvious injury, and uses a bunch of herbal remedies for the few things he does know how to help with. Mainly scrapes and stomach aches.

Two often times subs in for him when Airy has to take care of a sick student, who often times will fake being sick so they can get Two to teach the class.

MePhone teaches coding and AutoCAD as an extra circular, and probably typing for lower grades. I keep slappin' a bunch of classes onto 'im cause I remember taking so many throughout high and middle school.

He doesn't enjoy teaching coding or typing since he doesn't see them as creative as making actual models for things in AutoCAD, even though the other two can be used creatively. MePad's kinda left to teach those classes despite being a TA.

Also it's a very hands off class where he gives them the basics of how to use the program, and the rest of the class is leaving the students to make whatever thing fits the assignment.

He's the kind of teacher who's real in tune with internet culture and reality tv so he uses a bunch of modern slang phrases or casually gives hot takes on shows if he overhears the students talking about them. Everyone thinks it's cause he wants to be "hip with the kids" when in reality he just has brain rot.

Clock's the history teacher. He discusses each history point with the same tone and enthusiasm, and remembers the years and eras with pinpoint accuracy. Kinda put too much emphasis on the dates, and how long events lasted, over the content of those events.

He's the teacher you can get to go on a long side tangent about something unrelated to the material, but they'd always find a way to bring it back to history.

Idk I also think it'd also be funny if he co-taught an economics class with Four (thinking there'd be a lot of math involved) when it's really more so about theories.

Out of all the teachers, Four and Clock are the most knowledgeable and could probably teach college level courses if they wanted to.

Animatic is the PE teacher with too much energy and gives the harshest workouts but thinks they're easy. Mainly cause he does them alongside the students and always has energy after to run laps around the school. Two would have probably told them to tone it down.

Speaking of-

Two is the health counselor and sub for Home Econ., but also has a bunch of unofficial jobs. They're the unofficial vice principal mainly cause the rest of the speaker boxes are kinda incompetent at their job, and they have to mediate not only students but teachers too (mainly Four and Animatic). As well as sub in for Airy, or even act as a supervisor, when need be.

Some other ones I haven't drawn yet are Daddy Long Legs as the music teacher, Popcorn as the theater teacher, and Hourglass as the English/Literature teacher.

The speaker boxes are the principle/VP/admin. They all kinda interchange with each other, considering how similar they all are also cause they switch out a lot in the original show.

Dunno who the science or art teacher would be, cause I'm mainly going after object shows I've seen. Honestly I may just swap some roles around.

Mainly doing this as a thing for funsies, but boy howdy is it a rapidly rolling snowball.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kate Beaton's "Ducks"

It’s been more than a decade since I began thrilling to Kate Beaton’s spectacular, hilarious snark-history webcomic “Hark! A Vagrant,” pioneering work that mixed deceptively simple lines, superb facial expressions, and devastating historical humor:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/03/23/hark-a-vagrant-the-book/

Beaton developed Hark! into a more explicit political allegory, managing the near-impossible trick of being trenchant and topical while still being explosively funny. Her second Hark! collection, Step Aside, Pops, remains essential reading, if only for her brilliant “straw feminists”:

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/09/15/step-aside-pops-a-new-hark-a-vagrant-collection-that-delights-and-dazzles/

Beaton is nothing if not versatile. In 2015, she published The Princess and the Pony, a picture book that I read to my own daughter — and which inspired me to write my own first picture book, Poesy the Monster-Slayer:

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/08/07/the-princess-and-the-pony-from-kate-hark-a-vagrant-beaton/

Beaton, then, has a long history of crossing genres in her graphic novels, so the fact that she published a memoir in graphic novel form is no surprise. But that memoir, Ducks: Two Years In the Oil Sands, still marks a departure for her, trading explosive laughs for subtle, keen observations about labor, climate and gender:

https://drawnandquarterly.com/books/ducks/

In 2005, Beaton was a newly minted art-school grad facing a crushing load of student debt, a debt she would never be able to manage in the crumbling, post-boom economy of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. Like so many Maritimers, she left the home that meant everything for her to travel to Alberta, where the tar sands oil boom promised unmatched riches for anyone willing to take them.

Beaton’s memoir describes the following four years, as she works her way into a series of oil industry jobs in isolated company towns where men outnumber women 50:1 and where whole communities marinate in a literally toxic brew of carcinogens, misogyny, economic desperation and environmental degradation.

The story that follows is — naturally — wrenching, but it is also subtle and ambivalent. Beaton finds camaraderie with — and empathy for — the people she works alongside, even amidst unimaginable, grinding workplace harassment that manifests in both obvious and glancing ways.

Early reviews of Ducks rightly praised it for this subtlety and ambivalence. This is a book that makes no easy characterizations, and while it has villains — a content warning, the book depicts multiple sexual assaults — it carefully apportions blame in the mix of individual failings and a brutal system.

This is as true for the environmental tale as it is for the labor story: the tar sands are the world’s filthiest oil, an energy source that is only viable when oil prices peak, because extracting and refining that oil is so energy-intensive. The slow, implacable, irreversible impact that burning Canadian oil has on our shared planet is diffuse and takes place over long timescales, making it hard to measure and attribute.

But the impact of the tar sands on the bodies and minds of the workers in the oil patch, on the First Nations whose land is stolen and despoiled in service to oil, and on the politics of Canada are far more immediate. Beaton paints all this in with the subtlest of brushstrokes, a thousand delicate cuts that leave the reader bleeding in sympathy by the time the tale is told.

Beaton’s memoir is a political and social triumph, a subtle knife that cuts at our carefully cultivated blind-spots about industry, labor, energy, gender, and the climate. But it’s also — and not incidentally — a narrative and artistic triumph.

In other words, Beaton’s not just telling an important story, she’s also telling a fantastically engrossing story — a page-turner, filled with human drama, delicious tension, likable and complex characters, all the elements of a first-rate tale.

Likewise, Beaton’s art is perfectly on point. Hark!’s secret weapon was always Beaton’s gift for drawing deceptively simple human faces whose facial expressions were indescribably, superbly perfect, conveying irreducible mixtures of emotion and sentiment. If anything, Ducks does this even better. I think you could remix this book so that it’s just a series of facial expressions and you’d still convey all the major emotional beats of the story.

Graphic memoirs have emerged as a potent and important genre in this century. And women have led that genre, starting with books like Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home (2006):

https://cbldf.org/banned-challenged-comics/case-study-fun-home/

But also the increasingly autobiographical work of Lynda Barry, culminating in her 2008 One! Hundred! Demons!:

https://drawnandquarterly.com/books/one-hundred-demons/

(which should really be read alongside her masterwork on creativity, 2019’s Making Comics):

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/11/05/lynda-barrys-making-comics-is-one-of-the-best-most-practical-books-ever-written-about-creativity/

In 2014, we got Cece Bell’s wonderful El Deafo:

https://memex.craphound.com/2014/11/25/el-deafo-moving-fresh-ya-comic-book-memoir-about-growing-up-deaf/

Which was part of the lineage that includes the work of Lucy Knisley, especially later volumes like 2020’s Stepping Stones:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/09/enhanced-rock-weathering/#knisley

Along with Jen Wang’s 2019 Stargazing:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/25/stargazing-jen-wangs-semi-autobiographical-graphic-novel-for-young-readers-is-a-complex-tale-of-identity-talent-and-loyalty/

2019 was actually a bumper-crop year for stupendous graphic memoirs by women, rounded out by Ebony Flowers’s Hot Comb:

https://drawnandquarterly.com/books/hot-comb/

And don’t forget 2017’s dazzling My Favorite Thing is Monsters, by Emil Ferris:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/06/20/my-favorite-thing-is-monsters-a-haunting-diary-of-a-young-girl-as-a-dazzling-graphic-novel/

This rapidly expanding, enthralling canon is one of the most exciting literary trends of this century, and Ducks stands with the best of it.

[Image ID: The cover of the Drawn & Quarterly edition of Kate Beaton's 'Ducks.']

[hamcakevaletguy]

RPF Angela headcanons/scenarios with a pinch of angst because I’m procrastinating on my actual fics

(Feel free to use any of these as prompts)

(Also, sorry in advance for over explaining)

Platonic/General

Angela found out her love language is being known and being roasted for things that are unique to her (Tiny Car mukbang). She loves when people make fun of her and actively tries to make it easy for everyone to recognize her (ex: continuing to give Anthony chances to guess her on his “guess who slapped me” even after he felt her cast and didn’t know it was her, most of her top threes in Shayne guesses having joke answers to make it obvious that it’s her) because she’s not confident that any of them actually know her enough

Angela gets annoyed at how unoriginal some comments can be (in Pit Theater videos only referring to her voice or verbal typos that she makes because of her natural lack of filter/dyslexia) but still making jokes in the same strain because she knows everyone will laugh at it (ex: making typos on purpose in Patently Stupid, but also sometimes doing it on accident because she’s dyslexic) putting other people’s enjoyment over her own discomfort

Angela always laughs/apologizes after she “insults” anyone no matter how obvious it is that it’s a joke because she doesn’t want to be thought of as mean. She also spirals/immediately takes it back when she thinks she hurt someone (ex: Ian’s style in the Hot Ones: Truth or Dab video & telling Shayne he dances like a towel in the Black Beopardy stream)

Angela immediately refusing to “yes, and” bits about her not liking her coworkers (ex: staring contest stream, Shayne “she doesn’t laugh at my jokes” “omg, no! that’s so sad” & April fools smoshcast “it’s not funny to joke about” when Chanse says Amanda doesn’t like Angela) because even the idea of it makes her sick

Angela doesn’t want to just be herself on camera sometimes (her episode of Perfect Person Podcast) because it’s fine if people don’t like her characters, she can change those at the drop of a hat, but if people don’t like her as a person…

Angela’s busy all the time working on Smosh, Starkid, several sketch/improv teams, producing and starring in short films, making time to still see her friends, and has almost no time for self care. She’s constantly loading herself with caffeine to stay up because people need her (she’s a people pleaser, she can’t help it). One particularly busy month, she gets more and more tired as the days go on and no one notices until she passes out mid shoot

Romantic

(Anyone) Angela falls in love with one of her close friends/co-workers, but decides not to pursue it/speak about it at all because she wants to keep their friendship above all else (from the infamous Agree to Disagree video: friendship breakups are hard for her; she’d rather have them stay in her life as a friend than risk losing them for a chance at something more)

(Anyone) Angela’s not good at recognizing when someone’s flirting with her. She’s also not aware of when she’s flirting most times (she says a lot of things before her brain can process and fully catch up) She’s the type to not realize her feelings before it’s too late and the other person has already moved on

Sub-headcanon: At some point, most people she’s come in contact with (that’s attracted to women) have had a tiny crush on her. Her winning prom queen in high school (1, 2 Switch) wasn’t just because she was the one who organized prom; it’s because 90% of the student body was in love with her. (She was in a performing arts middle school and high school. Most of them were probably bi theater kids. You’re telling me that the most popular kid at that school wouldn’t be Angela? The same Angela who was part of the student council, is an incredible performer, very friendly and enthusiastic about everything, and attractive to boot?)

[moonjxsung]

ALSKDKDJF OKAYYY !!! I’m glad it’s not a bother !!! I overthink sometimes alskdkjf

urgh so I am having A WEEK :( I hope it’s okay I rant a bit … alslkskdj

helurf okay so after midterms last week, I’ve been trying to like relax and give myself time to rest but IVE HAD SO MANY ASSIGNMENTS :((( and I’m so tired and burnt out and stressed cause I need to start studying for finals and ahhhhhh alsksjjdjf :(

okay now for some more fun updates!! i had fun at uni yesterday!! we had a super fun soil science lab we got to go into soil pits on the farm our campus has and analyze soil (ph, diagnostic horizons, colour, structure, texture etc) !! It was a lot of fun I’m gonna miss the class and my prof :( (it was my last lab)

another fun thing is its art market week at my uni so time to drop a ton of money on prints, stickers and crocheted animals !!! :D

AND okay so I made it into a special like abroad research kinda program/course in like that’s usually only available to upper years students but somehow I made it in alskkskdjdj . Anyways, we get to go to South Africa from like May 14-June 9 to do research and stuff in the field!!! and like IM SO EXCITED??? So anyways, the 19 students that also made it in (it’s a highly competitive program to get into) we had our second group meet up plus our prof (who taught my favourite class by far last term) yesterday and it was a lot of fun and we got free dinner which was super super yum and I can’t believe I’m actually going ahhhhh

and then I went to a friends house for dinner (yes, dinner again) which was fun we like catch up at least once a month and yeah

Anyways sorry for the truck load of information about my life weh

HOW IS YOUR LIFE STAR!!! I WANNA HEAR ABOUT YOU!! (With whatever ur feeling comfy sharing 💗)

🌱

UGH I always forget how close together exam season is WHYYYY ARE UR FINALS ALREADY RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER….. 💔💔 I believe in you angel manifesting all the best for you frfr you’re smart I know you got this 🫶🫶🫶🫶

AHHHH UR UNI LAB SOUNDED SO FUN I love labs where you just get to go outside and do stuff in nature it’s fr so healing 👼 I took a geology course in college where we got to go to this creek near my school and like test the ph balance of the water and it was so much fun being outside instead of cooped up in the lecture hall fr one of the best labs we ever did. AND the art market this week???? RAHHH HAVE SO MUCH FUN we used to have something similar at my uni and I would drop SO much on stickers not even joking my laptop is covered in them still :’)

ALSO OH MY GOD??? TO THE STUDY ABROAD PROGRAM?????? STOP THAT SOUNDS SO FIXKIFNT FUNNNNN IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU WYAHWJDNRJ CONGRATS ON GETTING IN BB ‼️‼️ I didn’t have to do study abroad when I was in college bc covid hit but I can’t wait to hear all about yours and live vicariously thru ur updates AHHHH and it’s coming up so soon !! WOWOWOWOW HAVE THE BEST TIME ILY ILY THATS SO FUN

My day was honestly vvvvv boring but it was productive! I had work and then I had a shit ton of laundry to do but I was tired as fuck and I have cramps bc my period started today so I got coffee first to wake me up and then after cleaning the apartment I caught up on Ateez vlogs and now I’m simultaneously writing and watching Zelda gameplay 👼 I think my emotions are like ten times worse rn because of my period so I’m just taking it easy but I have a huge party to go to this weekend and a lot of my friends are gonna be there so I need to get my shit together and stop being sad bc I don’t want to bring the mood down ☹️ why do I always have a party in the same week I feel like shit LOL the last time I had one my situationship and I got into a huge fight and my sister had to be checking on me like every 5 minutes bc I was borderline crying the whole night it was so embarrassing 😭 (I am so tired of crying over this same girl oh my god)

ANYWAYS I LOVE U ANGEL IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU AND I CANT WAIT TO HEAR ALL ABOUT UR STUDY ABROAD TRIP RAHHH THATS SO EXCITING CONGRATS AGAIN ILY ILY 🩷💖💞💘💕💓👼

[le-amewzing]

A Space for the Two of Us

Am I once again behind on the manga? Yep! But do I need more Ayakine? YEP! 8D

Fic: "A Space for the Two of Us" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: pre?Miki Kinemi/Aizawa Ayano

Rating: K

Words: ~2,120

Summary: A rare opportunity gives Kinemi and Ayano a moment to themselves on campus.

      "Extra credit." It's a term teachers dangled in middle school and in high school, in front of overachievers as well as those who definitely needed it. It's also a term Kinemi didn't hear once in prep school, in her pre-Geidai days, and she hasn't heard it since the school year began, either.

      Until now.

      Technically, none of the professors have spoken the words aloud, and the same goes for the assistants. A bulletin was posted this week outside their section's classroom, and the objective of the extra assignment is as frustratingly vague as a lecture point uttered from one of their professors' mouths (Extra Credit: portray a favorite subject or concept using an unfamiliar or hated medium).

      Is it really as on-the-nose as it seems? Express something they love…using a manner they dislike to express it? This makes Kinemi scratch her head and wonder, too, how many of her classmates will take the teachers up on this opportunity when it's a good chance to expose one's weak points. After all, extra credit is a maybe, not a given.

      Not to mention they have so little free time in art school. Extra credit. The professors dole out difficult assignments and in the same breath remind them to pace themselves, to "take it easy!" (Just not too easy.) The timing and possible hidden meaning behind this seem like another enigmatic riddle from the mysterious minds of Nekoyashiki, Tsukinoki, or Rosei, for sure.

      Still, all her misgivings aside, Kinemi mulls over her least favorite media (hmm, papier-mâché? …maybe…skilled 3D renders of any sort?) and gathers her materials from home and the school store alike. She has an idea in mind already, so that's the next item on her checklist ticked. But next—

      Well, the leaning tower of supplies blocks her way heading out from her apartment. …yeah, this isn't a project to be done at home.

      Summoning her volleyball-honed strength, Kinemi slings the trash bag-sized loads of supplies on either arm and leaves for Geidai. Her supplies smash her backpack between her shoulder blades, but it's necessary discomfort, since Geidai's her only hope…

      …or so she thought. Despite not having class herself until late afternoon today, she can't find an empty room to spread out no matter where she turns! And the library's a no-go. It'd be one thing if her piece were something small she could work on quietly, but that's not the case.

      But it doesn't matter where she turns. Stunningly, today every classroom in the oil painting building is in use, by lecturer or by club or by student. Kinemi peeks in the window of every door, mostly ignored, sometimes catching a tired instructor's annoyed gaze. The latter makes the blonde duck her head in apology every time, and it's not long before she's searched every room on every floor only to determine that there is, surprisingly, no room in this place for one of its very own students.

      Kinemi exits the oil painting building with slumped shoulders. She very keenly feels the weight of her supplies now (and this isn't even for a graded project…), wondering if she got ahead of herself. The extra credit assignment is due by the end of the month, so she still has time, but Kinemi dislikes this ill omen of being thwarted from trying to start right away.

      Her phone buzzes in her pocket then, scaring her, but Kinemi's so overloaded that she can't reach it at that second. But, in jolting, Kinemi's attention is torn from her shoes on the ground as she wanders campus—

      —and she catches sight of a familiar pair of hair buns far in the distance, heading into the general studies building.

      Reinvigorated by the sight of Ayano, Kinemi jogs after her friend. She doesn't catch up with her outside the front doors or right inside the lobby, but eventually the heavy footfall following her causes Ayano to glance over her shoulder as she descends a staircase. She slows to a stop and smiles when Kinemi joins her.

      "Ayano-chan, hey!" Kinemi gasps.

      "Ara, ara, that's quite a load you're carrying, Kinemi-chan," Ayano points out. She cocks her head to the side to peek behind the taller girl and surveys the art store Kinemi crammed into bags. Her lips curve downward. "Kinemi-chan…"

      "I'm not overdoing it, I promise," she insists, because Ayano's used that tone of voice a handful of time since the mikoshi incident, so Ayano doesn't even need to add anything for Kinemi to understand. She inhales, exhales, gets her pulse under control, and nods to her fluffy-haired companion. "It's all for the extra credit. But what about you? Do I have your schedule wrong? I thought you don't have any classes right now, same as me."

      Ayano can't hold her frown long. It melts into a pout first before she caves and returns to her usual smile. She shakes her head. "I don't. Come on," Ayano says simply. No explanation. She faces forward and beckons Kinemi with one well-manicured hand curling fingers over her shoulder.

      Kinemi follows Ayano along the tiled hallway. They hook a right at the end and continue for three doors before Ayano stops and tries the handle of one. When the door opens into darkness, Ayano reaches in and flips on the light.

      She holds her left arm aloft, motioning Kinemi in first. "Head on in."

      Kinemi enters…and gapes. The room is a hair larger than their normal classroom, but this one has two rows of eight black-topped tables in the center. At one end of the room, there's a counter separating two sinks; at the other end, it's wide open space draped with tarps and a thin layer of dust. At least, Kinemi hopes it's dust. She glances at Ayano for details.

      Ayano places her oversized purse on the table nearest the door and fishes out a hair tie to gather up the rest of her tresses. "It's an old lab. I heard they were planning on…either converting it or demoing it or remodeling. Something like that. Anyway. No one's been using this space all year."

      "And it's just—been unlocked?!"

      "If it had any chemicals, those are long gone." She walks to the sink closer to the windows and twists a handle; water gushes from the faucet. "On the bright side, they haven't shut the water off yet. So this is a great place to spread out."

      Kinemi's supply bags slide from her shoulders, hitting the floor with twin thuds that make Ayano's eyes widen in concern. Yet Kinemi heaves a sigh of relief (and, ah, do her eyes feel wet? no, that must be the dust in this abandoned room getting in her eyes and making them itchy). "Ayano-chan…! Thank you so much for sharing your secret studio space with me…!"

      The apples of Ayano's cheeks pink. Once more, she shakes her head. "There's plenty of space for both of us. Of course I'd share it with you, Kinemi-chan." She clears her throat. "Don't worry about the tarps in the back. It's a little dusty, but it's mostly just some dried concrete. You're good to lay out your own tarp and work back there, if you need to."

      Kinemi nods. Once she returns her attention to her own belongings, Ayano returns to the table by the door, and the girls mostly operate in the same room but in separate spheres. Kinemi lays her own cloth down and stages her supplies in the back of the room, and Ayano…well, Ayano quietly works on whatever it is she brought with her.

      Kinemi gets down to business, tearing strips of decorative papers and sorting them into piles. She's also got a wireframe to create, adjust, tear apart and redo, and adjust again, as many times as it takes until she feels satisfied with it. Then she begins stirring the bucket with her adhesive mixture and, when it's ready, she builds. One strip at a time.

      The hardest part of finding time to work on a project like this and actually working on it is the instant she becomes entranced, Kinemi knows. That's why she's got to set a timer on her phone in her pocket and set it to vibrate so it'll bring her head down from being in the creative clouds. So when it buzzes, an hour and a half into her project, Kinemi snaps out of her trance, is reminded of her buzzing phone causing her to notice Ayano earlier (thank you, junk text!), and turns to see what Ayano's up to.

      Ayano's back is to her, but the fluffy-haired artist has something laid out on the table and has a paintbrush in hand. How unusual.

      Kinemi's curiosity sparks, but the strangeness of their morning overall strikes her now, too. Kinemi's used to sharing studio space with others, classmates or not. She's also used to being alone while creating.

      But this, Kinemi realizes, is the first time she and Ayano have shared the same studio space, just the two of them. And yet, for all that quiet, Kinemi not once has felt alone in this room.

      That thought brings a small, warm smile to Kinemi's face (she knows it's warm—she can feel it in her chest), and she hopes Ayano doesn't mind as she sidles up to the other girl. Kinemi leans on the edge of the table and takes a peek at Ayano's work. "Extra credit, Ayano-chan?" she asks.

      Ayano's hand stills, and her cheeks take on an amazing amount of red as she pulls a face, but she unfurls from the tiny canvas she's been painting. "…yeah."

      "Are those mini canvases? So cute!"

      Ayano puts her brush down and runs a tired hand through her fringe with a sigh. "Are they? They're all different shapes, though, so they don't exactly go together. But a mini canvas means I don't have to paint as much…"

      Kinemi's heart twinges. Her, doing papier-mâché. Ayano, painting. They're both trying to conquer their enemy media. But whereas Kinemi's will take layers and layers and layers, and she might finish in the nick of time… Her eyes rove over the canvases Ayano has out.

      There are six total. Square, rectangle, circle, hexagon, triangle, and star. The rectangular canvas is complete and the square's in-progress, but Ayano's got an underpainting or a sketch on the rest. And Kinemi glimpses the story in them.

      The first piece has two tiny silhouettes in front of her and Ayano's prep school.

      The second piece…Kinemi can't make out all of it but is sure she glimpses a volleyball and her old uniform.

      She reddens when she notes a leg cast on the circular canvas (because not everyone wants their injuries memorialized).

      But her heart skips a beat when she grasps little tick marks indicating cherry blossoms…oh, the star is their high school graduation.

      In the triangle, Kinemi sees the banner from the Geidai opening ceremony. And on the hexagon…it's only a faint sketch. Is it them in the happi from the cultural festival? Or is it them wearing housecoats while under the kotatsu at Ayano's apartment at New Year's?

      Ayano reaches for that one. "Th-That's not fully developed," she mumbles as she tries to set it aside.

      "No, Ayano-chan—" Without thinking, Kinemi reaches out, hoping to keep the canvas in place, where  it belongs, with the rest of its family, telling the rest of her and Ayano's story.

      Their hands brush. It's not as though they've never touched before, and Ayano tucks her arm into Kinemi's half the time when they walk. But this morning, and after this reveal, it's not quite the same, and both girls jolt.

      Kinemi's face warms. She watches Ayano re-sort her canvases and hide away the hexagon. Kinemi glances, too, to her own project in the back of the room.

      (To the torso. To this papier-mâché model that's from neck to waist and doesn't have arms yet but will. It will capture the elegance of the curves—neck, arms, waist, breasts—that press against her so casually, so regularly, that Kinemi knows them well. That's why she chose decorative paper—only the finest things to drape over such elegance.)

      Kinemi clears her throat and clasps her hands behind her back, gently backing off. "Well, whenever you're ready to show yours, Ayano-chan, I'm ready to show mine."

      And Ayano nods, cheeks still ruddy, but she's calmer now, and they resume working in silence.

      Except now, Kinemi notes, it's a kind of charged silence…because they'll see each other's completed work sooner or later, with this assignment due at the end of the month. And extra credit? Extra credit is a maybe, not a given.

      But owning up to each other about what they're feeling? Well, that's….

Done for the 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge as well as the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #975: head in the clouds) in the HPFC forum on FFN, in addition to minifemslashfeb 2023 (scenario 2: accidentally touched your hand) and Year of the OTP (February prompt: different) on tumblr. :3c So, funnily enough, it's been almost a yr since I last wrote for BP (I've done a little art since then). And my last fic, "soft & cute things," also had an extra credit premise, *lol*. But I liked going this route here, bc I feel extra credit in school could legit sometimes be embarrassing and not straightforward… Also, legit I totes described my old lab room, just shoddy. X'D I do love Ayakine's friendship and tension/vibe that is just like…be married already. I left off on ch50 of the manga, so I have some reading to do, but I also have waaay more art ideas rn than fic (altho another Ayakine occurred to me recently), so pls check out my art tag for mostly Ayakine and Yatoyota things~ This yr I also wanna doodle everyone (more Yuka, more Hashida, compelled to draw Murai finally), so. Hopefully we'll see a bit more than ship art on my blog. XD

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this! Check out my other fics if you liked this, too!

~mew

[xoxo-bunnydumpling]

Moses made a deal with his students...they are pretty much done, it's almost holiday break, and save for his art history class, he doesn't really do finals so if they have turned in everything...artwork and "book" work, they don't have to come to class anymore. His studio artists have been enthusiastic about their projects, a lot of them finished early, and he takes a "just let me know when you think it's ready" approach to their artwork, rather than putting them on strict deadlines.

"You *could* rush a masterpiece but you probably shouldn't."

Consequently, no one was showing up today...although they were all nice enough to email him this morning and let him know that, so we decided to drop in on Eli at work and have lunch with him since unlike the two of us, he's actually kinda busy.

A big boy needs a big sandwich, so we went to the spot we know has the biggest brisket sandwich in town...an absolute unit. It's so big it's almost ridiculous. This place has the most bare bones menu of any place I've been around here: brisket, chicken, pulled pork. That's it. Sandwich or plate, and the only sides they have are beans and chips. Today though, they also had burnt end cheese dip and I just had to get all up in that. A holiday special...nothin' says holiday cheer like a big bowl of melted cheese and Rotel, I tell you what.

When we got it back to the branch, we realize they have more or less just given us whatever they wanted to...we did get the sandwiches, but also beans that we didn't order, none of the chips that we did, and a whole bag of white bread stuffed into a paper sack. I would normally grouse about having dip and no chips but I'm finding it fine just loading it onto this white bread and shoving it into my face hole. It's a bad time to be watching my salt. I'm pulled out of my cheese-induced euphoria by the sound of applause.

Eli has finished his sandwich and Moses, only a quarter of the way through his, is very impressed. "Holy shit! My god you're an impressive specimen. Stop being so hot, I can't take it."

Soon Eli is beating his chest like a gorilla, and they're both wheezing with laughter. It's not always easy dealing with the two of them I wouldn't trade 'em for nothin.

[bestvivaldivenues]

The Top 10 Events to Host at a Celebration Banquet Hall

A celebration banquet hall is the ideal place to host a huge array of parties, for any and all occasions. No matter what you’re celebrating, the right venue plays a huge role in setting mood for the event and its overall success. While you can certainly use our venue to host any type of party, there are some events that are the most popular for renting a space. Check them out below.

Top 10 Events Perfect for a Celebration Banquet Hall Fashion or Art Show A venue allows for the right decor and vibe, whether you’re having models walk the runway showcasing your fashions or jewelry, or you’re hanging your best pieces of art for show and sale.

Benefit Gala A benefit gala is a fantastic way to fundraise in style and that means finding the right locale for the event. With plenty of space for seating, a live auction and entertainment, a banquet hall is the perfect solution.

Engagement Party If you expect a big crowd or simply want to forgo the work of hosting at your home, a banquet hall gives you the space and amenities to host your engagement party (or someone else’s). There’s room to move and a typically neutral background allows for decorating exactly the way you want.

Wedding Reception Banquet halls have long been the ideal place to host your wedding reception. There’s room to dance, eat and give toasts. Such venues will continue to be one of the most popular places to host guests for your big day.

Milestone Birthdays If it’s a big one, it makes sense to rent a venue for celebrating milestone birthdays. Whether it’s your little one’s 1st birthday or your own 40th birthday, hosting the soiree in a banquet hall allows for a big guest list and lots of room for enjoying the day.

Prom Small schools will love how a banquet hall sets the scene for the perfect prom night. It’s a lovely break from the school building and allows staff and parents to create a special night for their students.

Holiday Parties Offices and corporate workplaces typically host a holiday party and a banquet hall continues to be a popular place to do so. It’s feels more celebratory than the office and allows for employees to take a break and enjoy time with each other outside work.

Graduation Party Whether it’s a high school or college graduation, chances are there’s a lengthy list of guests who want to congratulate the graduate. A banquet hall makes it easy to host a large crowd so the graduate can enjoy their day in the spotlight and celebrate their achievements with loved ones surrounding them.

Retirement Parties When you retire, there are loads of people who want to wish you luck and send you on your way. That includes family and friends, but also beloved co-workers. It makes sense to use a venue so you can host the crowd in style.

Awards Ceremonies When a crowd of people are receiving awards, it makes sense to expect a huge crowd to celebrate them. A banquet hall allows for seating for the entire guest list and typically offers up a stage area to celebrate the awards being handed out.

No matter what event you’re hosting, a celebration banquet hall at VIvaldi Venues is the answer. Contact us today to make a reservation.

[whitepolaris]

Visiting the Lees in Lake View

In Seattle's Lake View Cemetery, two of the most famous residents are Bruce Lee and his son, Brandon, both of whom died early deaths. Every year thousands of people from all over the world come to visit their final resting place. Visitors are so common that when we recently went into the cemetery office to ask about another matter, the receptionist did not even look up from what she was doing. She pointed to a little box beside the entryway and, in a tone that suggested she repeated the same thing several times a day, said, "There are maps to the Lee graves in the box beside you."

After Chairman Mao, Bruce Lee is probably the most recognized Asian the world. He was one of the greatest martial artists in history, creating the discipline of Jeet Kune Do, or The Way of the Intercepting Fist. He was also a star of film and television. As a child, Lee starred in several movies made in Asia. In the 1960s, he was the crime fighter Kato on television's Green Hornet. Bruce Lee taught Kung Fu to actors like Steve McQueen and James Coburn. Because of his talent and hard work, he managed to break Hollywood's racial barrier and became internationally famous as a leading man.

Like many well-known people, Bruce Lee had his enemies and critics. When he died in 1973 at the age of thirty-two, there were rumors that he was killed for revealing Asian fighting secrets to Westerners. An autopsy surgeon told a skeptical public that Lee probably died of an allergic reaction to a prescription drug.

Brandon Lee died in 1993 at the age of twenty-eight, while filming the movie The Crow. He was killed by an improperly loaded stunt gun. in the case of both father and son, their final movies were released posthumously to rave reviews.

Many believe the Lees were like stars that shined too brightly and burned out before their time. They are buried side by side; local fans and some of Bruce Lee's former students take care of the grave sites. It is not difficult to find them, even without a map. There is usually a car or two parks nearby and a small crowd gathered around the father and son. The Lee family had a bench erected at the foot of the graves, on which fans may sit. Many people leave symbolic offerings, like flowers, coins, letters, toy weapons, and food.

When we visited the Lees, there was a couple from Washington, D.C., there who had brought a friend from Poland. He talked about how he idolized Bruce Lee and how seeing his movies as a child (not an easy feat in a country that was Communist at the time and considered Lee's movies to be Western decadence) influenced his study of the martial arts. He eventually earned a fourth-degree in black belt in his discipline and considered his visit the smallest respect he could pay to Bruce Lee.

Some people believe that the spirits of the departed may come to the grave site when friends and family gather there. Many people say they have somehow touched the spirits of Bruce and Brandon at their graves, and at least one person may have evidence of that in a photography. In 2004, T. C. O'Reilly sent us an e-mail along with a curious photograph:

I recently visited Bruce Lee's grave in Seattle and took some pictures and found something very interesting in one of them. My girlfriend and I were only people there that day and she was standing in front of the tombstone when it was taken, yet there's still a reflection of what looks like a small Asian man [in it]. Took a look and tell me what you think, especially look in the reflection on the tombstone.

[theentrepnoob]

Vox Populi

The Voice of the People.

It has always been important to listen to the people around us. They see what we don’t see — the problems that we aren’t aware of.

The people we interviewed came from different colleges and were of various year levels. A lot of them came from the College of Engineering, the College of Arts and Sciences, the College of Agriculture, the College of Nursing, and the College of Business Management.

During the interviews, they raised and, upon comparing their responses, shared many concerns such as:

Transportation

Security

Restrictions in appliances

Lack of printing services

Waste Management

Maintenance of school materials

Finances

Storage of school supplies

As we narrowed down their concerns, we focused on these three:

Transportation

Lack of printing services

Storage for school materials

We brainstormed a couple of ideas to address these issues. We had to consider its feasibility, like whether we had the ability to make the product, to be allowed to conduct within the school premises, and if it was more than profitable enough to maintain it. I suggested a slightly modified version of the ID-anchored e-cash system that was already used in my school. Meanwhile, a friend brought up the rela-hotline we discussed during lunch. Someone mentioned a locker system and another suggested to create appliances that made use of solar energy.

Among the concepts we came up with I particularly liked the top three we chose, which were the rela-hotline, the CMU ID e-cash, and the locker vending machine. These three were the ideas we had consulted with our professor, Mr. Reymark Menguito.

After that, me and my group crossed out the rela-hotline idea as it was too popular among the higher years. We also debated between choosing to pursue the CMU ID e-cash system and the locker vending machine. Each idea had its own pros and cons.

With regards to the CMU ID e-cash system, we were inspired by an existing system in some schools, wherein their IDs served as a pass for entry into the school premises and a card to hold load to purchase items within the school. We thought that it’d be good to ease some restrictions with physical money, like the need to bring change since some stores don’t have them. It would also encourage students to get their school IDs, thus helping with security.

However, the system is hard to code, and with our current skill level in that aspect, it would take a lot of time to develop the system, and we don’t have that much time. It is also costly since we need some delicate electronic to develop the ID card prototype.

Meanwhile, the locker vending machine is a concept we came up with with inspiration from similar ones in Japan. We planned on modifying it to be simpler and integrate the PisoNet’s system of converting cash to service. It would address a many students’ need to store their stuff—stuff that they need a lot but is a pain to bring every day. Like the ID e-cash system, it will need a lot of coding, but it isn’t complex enough that it needs a lot of time to develop.

Although the professor was more inclined towards the ID e-cash system, after some debate, we agreed to focus on the locker vending machine, which would give the user a password to reopen the locker after use. The locker also has a built-in timer which charges the user a certain amount of money based on the amount of time they used it.

I know that we have a lot to do. The locker isn’t going to be easy to create. We have to bear in mind security features, technology and time restraints, and the rates we’ll charge among other things. We also need to strategize where we’ll place the lockers and the locker’s dimensions that is specifically tailored to meet each college’s needs.

But as I said before, we can’t get gold without being bold enough to take the first step. We just have to learn to plan to fail strategically and be realistic with our product given the resources. Even if that point would eventually lead to failure, it’s going to be a stepping stone to redefine our business strategy.

(IN PHOTOS: A part of the summary of the interviewees’ responses, pictures of some of us surveying a college’s building)

[lila-k-cas]

CAS final reflection

What did you enjoy most about CAS?

The category of activities connected to Creativity resonated with me the most. I like the idea of connecting my passions with school. and CAS gave me the opportunity to do so. I also liked using the argument of CAS to find the time to pursue my hobbies. Like many other IB students oftentimes I find myself feeling guilty after spending time doing something I enjoy, even in my "time off", instead of school work.

What was your greatest challenge and how did you overcome this?

Creating a sense of routine with all of the activities was the most challenging, at times even frustrating. I specifically struggled with the Service category, as this is not something I would regularly incorporate into my life on a monthly basis. Motivating myself to volunteer was incredibly difficult given the IB course load work as well as other preparations for my future (extracurriculars etc.) I managed to overcome this by finding a volunteering job in a field that would genuinely interest me, hence the job at the National Museum. What I enjoyed the most about my Service this year was close contact with the greatest artworks of polish masters on a daily basis as well as access to areas unavailable for visitors.

What have you achieved through CAS?

CAS helped me with managing my stress, specifically with Activity (but also other projects, jobs, etc) as to some extent, it was taking my mind away from school. On the other hand, this hygiene developed by the obligation to complete CAS was also disturbed by the fact that at the end of the day it was yet another school duty. Most of my motivations ended up not coming out of frank interest, concern or urge, but rather from the need of completing an "assignment".

What abilities and skills did you develop most significantly in CAS?

I definitely developed as an artist within the span of the last 2 years. I greatly improved my technique, line etc due to the regular practice. I can also tell it is far easier for me to capture the right proportions right now, in comparison to where I was at the beginning of IB. Regular practice resulted in my ease of line- I appreciate CAS for taking the extra art classes at Moduł.

Which learning outcomes did you find most easy to achieve? Most difficult to achieve?

'Show commitment to and perseverance in CAS experiences'- In my case, achieving regularity in my creative work was very simple, as I am planning to connect my future with Fine Arts. Therefore, much of my creations is also connected to my regular "school work". Regular effort was probably the key outcome of my CAS.