#this was in my drafts for over a week and forgot to post it oops..

[breadbartz]

the. the worms :((

[follineo]

Hiii hello ummm

Since steam has been having a winter sale for a while now, I decided to try and take a couple of commissions and it ended up with two commisions! (I have pricelist only for rub and uah so I didn't talk about it. So I have Schledinger's commisions i quess, nobody knows they're open before someone ask about them??)

And just to let you know that I've now bought myself a couple of games that I've been wanting to try for a while! :D (pathologic, knock-knock, psychonauts, system shock enchanted/classic and bioshock (the collection!!) if anyone interested hehe) I'm very happy and I know what I'll be doing in the near future hehehehe

Oh and also some doodles I create when I was drawing another commission (I can't show it here for some reason so only doodles)

Little sillies from start and end of work

So yeah, thanks for attention!

[taradactyls]

Trying to Tread Water: Chapter Eighteen

The Marriage of Convenience fic no one asked for

Elizabeth's anticipation for Mr Darcy's letter is well rewarded - hearing how her husband dislikes half his acquaintance is deeply amusing. It also helps her reassure Mrs Gardiner that she does care for her husband... without resorting to lies about the peculiar arrangement of her marriage. Mrs Gardiner sees enough to be concerned, however, especially when she notices how attentive Mr Wickham is to Elizabeth...

Read on Ao3 here

First reviews: "I really enjoyed Mr Darcy's letter. Such dislike for his general acquaintance! How satisfying :-D" "I love this chapter, as I love all the others. A fortnight can't pass swiftly enough! ... But, thank you an unfathomable amount. I am too invested in this fic at this point for it to be healthy." "Wonderful chapter!! I adore that letter so much! Hilarious and adorable!" "As always, wonderful chapter!" "Darcy's letter was a treat! ... I love this fic so much and can't wait to read more! <33" ""Really fun read, so full of interesting details and depth of character. Loved it, thank you." "I loved this chapter!!! Darcy's letter was especially adorable, you can really tell he really misses Lizzy and that he's trying his best to make her smile with his writing. Also with all due respect I want to bash Wickham in the head with a lead pipe."

Story updates on Ao3 fortnightly, with Chapter Nineteen coming out on the 1st December.

Story tags: Elizabeth/Darcy, Marriage of Convenience, Unrequited Love, Not Really Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, Pining, Pining Despite Being Married, Mr Darcy thinks his worst enemy is Wickham but maybe it's himself.

[777sturn]

⟢ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦att 𝐬turniolo

kinda suggestive.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ jules’ message. this was so fun to write i love matt sm ALSO this has been marinating in my drafts for WEEKS and i literally forgot to post it oops!

quality time:

bf!matt who is a sucker for quality time. he’s simple: he enjoys the late night car rides with you as well as staying in to watch movies. of course, on special days (valentines, birthdays, etc) he will treat you out and take you to a fancy restaurant and a nice hotel for the weekend.

physical touch:

bf!matt who is a cuddler by heart. he enjoys laying his head on your lap or you sitting on his lap and holding you close. he looovessss running his fingers through your hair and pressing soft kisses all over your face. he is handsy when you guys make out or have sex, his hands will be trailing everywhere: tracing your figure slowly, all the way to your thighs, and then back to your waist.

acts of service:

bf!matt who is literally willing to drop anything to help you. despite his video game addiction, he will pause it and comfort you if you need anything. if he knows you’re coming over, he already went to the store beforehand to buy snacks for the two of you and went to your favorite place to eat and bought you lunch. if he sees you about to stand up and wash the dishes or clean up, he will do it himself. he also does things without being asked since he enjoys seeing you relaxed and smiling.

words of affirmation:

bf!matt who LOVES showering you with compliments and telling you how much he’s proud of you. it could be at the most random times and he will let a, “you’re so perfect” or a, “im so proud of you today” out. he’s always reassuring you if you feel stressed and is by your side to comfort you. when you guys have sex, there’s never a time where he doesnt compliment how well your doing. when you’re close, he’s reminding you how pretty you look when you cum.

gift giving:

bf!matt who loves to spoil you. he’s the type of person to buy you bouquets every two weeks and replace them if they die. if you mention something you wanted, he will buy it for you. he is also a big crafty homemade card guy. so for every valentine’s day, birthday, or your guys’ anniversary, expect a cute card that was made with lots of love.

© 777sturn

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Chad defending you from a guy who touched his girl at halloween party. I love protective boyfriend chad!

This was in my drafts and I forgot to post it...oops

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Chad wasn’t the jealous type. He was protective and liked to show others that you were together in every small way possible — wearing his Blackmore hoodie on game days, having subtle matching things like shirts or jewelry, setting a cute selfie of you two as his phone background, resting his hand on a part of your body in casual intimacy —, but he never shouted at Ethan for giving you a friendly hug or sent any threatening glares at Trevor, the guy that worked with you at the library.

‘’You’re staying with me all night tonight. I’m not letting you out of my sight,’’ Chad declared as you walked to the frat house the Halloween party was at, struggling to take his eyes off you in your cowgirl costume.

Getting matching costumes was cringy according to Mindy, but you and Chad decided to ignore her. It was cute and reminded people that you were together. Quinn had helped you with your costume, letting you borrow a shirt from her closet to match with your cow print skirt and cowboy boots.

‘’I could say the same about you. You’re not even wearing a shirt! You’re flashing those abs and muscles to everyone.’’ You ran your hand over his toned chest, catching yourself smiling knowing it was all yours to touch and kiss and lick. ‘’Just last week at your game, I caught three girls gawking at you. I was wearing your jersey with your damn name on it. Was it not clear enough that you were already taken?’’

‘’Y/N’s right,’’ Tara chimed, catching up behind you in her pirate costume. ‘’Those college girls are worse than high school ones. They don’t care if a guy has a girlfriend, they’ll still flirt and try to get in their pants.’’

‘’I’m not stupid enough to fall for their shit though,’’ Chad reassured you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in.

You hugged him back, feeling lucky to have a faithful man.

Half an hour after arriving, Chad finally agreed to let you wander around. Although it sounded like that, you didn’t need his permission. You just wanted Chad to understand that you would be alright on your own.

‘’Don't accept drinks from anyone and don’t let your cup out of your sight. And don’t drink the punch — you never know what’s in it. So many horrible college stories start with a spiked drink at a party.’’

‘’Yes, dad,’’ you replied, pecking his lips before disappearing among the other party-ers in search of Tara. Maybe she would be down to have some shots with you?

Just two, you told yourself as Tara poured vodka into small shot glasses. Two turned into three, and then you got enrolled into a game of beer-pong with some guys from your film class. You were kicking their asses, throwing the ball skillfully into the cups.

A few meters away, Chad was looking at you proudly. His girl was bruising these guys' masculinity and it was hilarious to see their embarrassed faces. One of them had a very poor aim and knocked a cup down, causing it to spill on the floor. Amateurs.

‘’Come on, Tara, you can do it!’’ you cheered, encouraging the petite brunette.

The shots you had downed earlier were messing with her concentration, but she was determined to get the ball in the last cup.

Unfortunately, she missed.

She pouted and the guys played their turn, getting only one ball. Tara offered to take the drink and you placed yourself in position, but just as you were about to throw the ball, the fake cop put his hand on the small of your back, dangerously close to your ass, and you completely froze. He whispered something in your ear, but you didn’t hear.

All you heard was Chad’s voice when he pulled the guy off you and shoved him against the wall, snapping you out of your frozen state.

On your left, Tara gasped, not expecting such violence from her friend. ‘’Chad!’’

‘’Don’t ever touch my girl like that,’’ he hissed at the guy, the altercation getting a few people’s attention. ‘’Got it?’’

The fake cop laughed, feeling cocky. ‘’Oh, come on! We’re just having fun.’’ He glanced at you and you shifted uncomfortably in your cowgirl costume, still feeling the ghost of the guy’s hand on your ass. His mouth curled into a smirk. ‘’With a perfect little ass like hers, I couldn’t help myse—’’

Utterly disgusted, Chad didn’t let him finish his sentence — he couldn’t — and shoved his fist against the fake cop’s chest to shut him up…which only reeled him more. He shoved Chad back by the shoulders.

As much as you appreciated Chad taking your defense, the situation was escalating and unless you wanted the night to end with a broken nose — for the other guy —, you needed to stop the fight.

You stepped in and grabbed Chad’s arm before he could shove the guy another time, but before you could say anything the fake cop shoved Chad back harder, causing him to stumble back into you. He steadied himself on his feet easily enough and you grabbed the table to stop you from falling. 

Tara rushed to your side, asking if you were okay. You nodded.

''Chad, stop!'' you called to him, grabbing his arm with a stronger grip. ''This idiot is not worth your time.'' His jaw was clenched when he finally glanced at you. ''He's just looking for a fight, let's go.''

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889

[sheliesshattered]

So it turns out I completely forgot to take any pictures of my last sewing project. Oops. In fairness, it's a gift for my mother, whose birthday is tomorrow, and I didn't want to post any pictures until after it had arrived at her house and been opened. But I still meant to take some pictures, if not of the process at least of the final product. It wasn't until I got home from mailing it that I realized I full on completely forgot to take any photos at all. Oh well. Maybe Mom can snap a picture or two for me since I flat out forgot. Pics of that if/when I actually have them, lol.

But I'm already into my next sewing project, and I've resolved not to make that same mistake again. Which, really, is nearly the same mistake as I made with my fleece dress last month, when I didn't take any pictures at all until all the major seams were sewn. After documenting so much of my sewing throughout 2023, I seem to have completely forgotten all about taking photos of my works-in-progress the last couple of months. I aim to get back on course with this project, though!

The project in question is a hooded wrap sort of thing, made from the black and gray brushed cotton herringbone that I got a bolt of on ebay a couple of weeks back. After washing the bolt, it looks to be about 43" wide and roughly eight and a half yards long. I want to make an overdress for my fleece dress out of it too, but I think this wrap project will only take up about a yard and a half, maybe two, so I should have plenty left for an overdress. And then I can wear the wrap and the overdress together, potentially.

But really the thing I'm sewing this for is my birthday, which is coming up in about seven weeks. I have somehow talked Jack into going to Disneyland and spending all day in the Star Wars Galaxy's Edge area so I can pilot the Millennium Falcon as many times as possible, and doing some original costuming "Batuu-bounding" while we're there, too. Because I am nothing if not a costume nerd, and my life-long love for Star Wars has recently been reignited, so what better way to spend my birthday than dressed up in one of the best examples of 360 degree set building that I've ever seen.

After combining a bunch of pieces from my closet and my costume boxes, I've come up with an outfit that I like the look of, for a general purpose Force-sensitive smuggler pilot: my every-day tall Doc Martens with wraps over them, leather-look leggings, the vest from my Moment cosplay, and various accessories from my pirate-core and Wasteland days. I may need a better shirt to go with it, but I'm hoping to hit up Goodwill at least once or twice between now and then and see what I can find. The final choice will depend on a bit on the weather that week, which in late February in southern California can be literally anything from the cusp of freezing to 80 degrees, sunny or rainy or windy or some combination of all of them. I won't really know until the weekend beforehand.

Besides a shirt, the last piece I really want to add is this hooded wrap, both for practicality -- warmth in the morning and the evening, and keeping the sun off my head at midday without messing up my hair too much -- and for just the drama of a big hood and drapey wrap. I based the hood pattern on the hooded Vuvalini jacket I made for Wasteland Weekend way back in 2016, but took it in a bit both in width and depth (since I'm not trying to catch the wind with this one, and won't be wearing a fluffy scarf with it).

Over the weekend I drafted a pattern and made a mock-up, but the mock-up is really kinda ugly, since I used left over fabric and made a part of it significantly smaller just to save on fabric, so it's one of those mock-ups where you have to squint and imagine what the final product will look like. Not going to bother taking pictures of that. But it did serve the purpose of clarifying some design elements and finalizing fit, so still worthwhile.

With the hood pattern drafted and tested, and measurements for the long wrap bits figured out, I went ahead and cut it out of the herringbone fabric. Here it is all cut out, three pieces for the hood and two pieces for the back:

I'm doing french seams on this project, both to combat the fabric's tendency to fray, and to keep all the inner seams looking pretty when the hood is down, etc. Tonight I sewed up the first set of seams on the center back of the wrap, and all three hood pieces (as modeled by my sewing ham):

Tomorrow I'll press those narrow seams flat, and then sew each of them again a bit further in to completely encase the raw edges (ie a classic french seam). Next step after that will be attaching the hood to the right angle formed by the wrap pieces coming together in the center back. I did this, with shorter and narrower pieces, in my mock-up, and it's a little bit fiddly but not too bad. I didn't french seam the mock-up though, so we'll see if that adds any headaches to this.

Once both stages of the neck seam are done and the hood is attached, the last step will be hemming! And it's a lot of hemming, lol. The shorter edges of the wrap (starting from the top of the center back, where it meets the hood) are each 48" long and 18" wide. I actually haven't measured the outer, longer edge, nor done the math to figure out what it must be given that the center back is cut on a 45 degree bias, but let's just say it's a lot of inches. And then there's the hood opening too, which was cut to have a generous drape. Many many inches of hemming, really probably better measured in yards.

I need to play around with a couple of options, see if I like the look of top stitching or if I want to do the whole thing by hand with invisible stitches, but right now my assumption is that I'll end up doing this by hand. I actually enjoy handsewing hems, so that's not the worst thing in the world, and I've got plenty of time to get this finished before I plan to wear it at the end of February. I do have at least one other sewing project I'd like to tackle for our Star Wars Batuu-bounding day, and I'd like to leave room for other things to come up at the last minute too, so I'm going to keep buzzing through this just as quickly as I can. More pictures tomorrow, in all likelihood.

After I call my mom of course, and wish her a happy birthday. And beg her for photos of that thing I made for her, lol.

[oknowkiss]

fic post: 100 beats per minute

for @hdsudsfest and @wolfpants !

PAIRING(S): DRARRY, HARRY/OMCs RATING: E (Anal Sex, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Deepthroating, Facials)  WORDCOUNT: 14K

READ ON AO3 HERE!

TAGS: Sex Columnist Draco Malfoy, Draco in the Muggle World, Retired Quidditch Player and Professional Hottie with a Body Harry Potter, Harry has Long Hair & Earrings, Briefly Mistaken Identities, Sex Quests, Idiots to Lovers, Ibiza, Foam Parties, Sex Parties, So Your Nemesis is Hot Now: Brutal. Better Shower About It

WARNINGS: Casual Sex, Group Sex, Public Sex, like… a lot of it. A lot. In all the combinations. Harry is on a MISSION. A SEX mission. Drinking, Drunkenness, Mention of Casual Drug Use, Light Angst of the Oops I’m In Love with the man dancing on a stage in little mesh shorts and Now What Am I Supposed to Do with That variety

SUMMARY: When Draco left the Magical World behind at nineteen, he didn't expect the cusp of thirty would find him comfortable and secure, with a stable life and a successful career as a sex columnist. Stable, that is, until he meets the subject of his newest column -- a stranger calling himself James, who has dragged them both to Ibiza on a sex quest of epic proportions -- and everything Draco ever knew turns upside down all over again.

okay well it would appear my silly ass forgot to schedule this post and left it sitting in drafts, so here we are a week later!  let the party rage ever onward!

a massive massive unending always perma-thank you to @sorrybutblog​ who read this and whipped it into shape like she always does. you get into my brain like no one else and perform magic, MAGIC i tell you. 

thank you as well to all of the incredible mods at @hdsudsfest​ for your patience and understanding as i haunted your inbox with my little, “just a few more days please” shenanigans. your loveliness is boundless, all of you. 

and of course a massive thank you to @wolfpants​ for the perfect prompt. it is always an honor to write for you, and despite the fact that it took me 13k to get to your actual prompt (foam party in ibiza), i hope we can add this one to our ever expanding pile of feelings-smut that we keep trading back and forth. you are simply the best, wolfie! 

[dayseternal-blog]

In Memory, Katarinahime. Part 10.

"For Fanfic Writer Appreciation Week, I had started a post that I didn't finish. It was going to be an in-depth review of her 'Serenity Prayer.' I was going to dig into her story structuring, her characterizations, her language...like. It was going to be a long post. And it's sitting in my drafts. And I never finished it. And she'll never see it. [...] I wonder if it's okay for me to just post a bunch of short reflections instead now."

For nhmonth2022, Day 11, Prompt: Serenity Prayer

“Serenity Prayer” by katarinahime - Rated M for depictions of domestic violence, substance abuse, and smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.

Let’s start from the top with this work of art.

She dove on the ground for her phone, pushing it further under her seat so it would take longer to grab. It was a silly move. She couldn't stay down there forever. - Chapter 1, when Hinata sees Naruto walking toward her at the airport.

☝🏼 katarina has an amazing way with throwing in bits of self-deprecating humor into primarily ANGST stories that lightens the load just enough.

"I still have that scarf." He admits, smiling at her like he can't see her wanting to shrivel up and die.

I felt this.  The embarrassment, the simply relatable wording of wanting to shrivel up and die, like it came straight from any mortified consciousness.  And again, another sprinkle of humor here.  AND on top of that, the canon reference in a Modern aged-up AU!

A cracked iPhone 5c that her little sister let her use, matching the outdated MacBook that was thicker than a college text book. At the moment, they are her most prized possessions.

The first chapter is one of the BEST establishing introductions I’ve ever read, and yet there isn’t a single true flashback.  Hinata’s medication, abusive marriage, regrets, shames, they litter her thought process throughout that in no way interferes with the “now” narrative of meeting Naruto in an airport and waiting for a flight on standby.  We get a clear picture of everything she’s been through since high school, as well as worrisome insight into her mental health.

And all through Hinata’s pov, we get a shocking and intriguing glimpse into Naruto’s life.  Quite a few major players in the story are mentioned in the first chapter without any of them having a “spoken” line.  Various complex plot points are laid out that hold across the story - her financial instability, Ino’s business proposal, the unresolved divorce, her unanswered confession,... It’s crazy how well-thought out it is.

katarina develops the romance, character growth, friendships, family relationships, everything beautifully.  All sensitive topics are treated with care, rather than written to entertain a trope.  The fic goes beyond “what if?”, diving into difficult topics like domestic abuse, PTSD, substance abuse, anxiety, etc. without any romanticism.

She bites her lip and nods, leaving that evening without agreeing to anything. - Chapter 2, at the end of Naruto’s and Hinata’s “business meeting” at Ichiraku.

I’ll never get over the skill of this story.  Down to its structure, the layout is masterful.  It has the smoothest scene transitions I’ve ever read.  Ever.  In any fanfic or published book.  In one sentence, Hinata has left Naruto’s date invitation hanging and is working at Ino’s house the next morning.  In Chapter 5, within a few lines, Hinata is at a bar one night and then at Hanabi’s dress fitting the next day.  There are practically no scene breaks in the entire story except for, of course, at the end of a chapter.

"Oh, you forgot your name at the top." Hinata spotted.

"Oops." Shinachiku reached back for his pencil to fix his oversight. - Chapter 7, the first time Hinata babysits Shinachiku.

The CHILDREN.  Feel like real, actual children.  I’ve read so many fics where the children don’t act like children, or are not behaving at a maturity level appropriate to their age.  Shinachiku’s intelligence is off-the-charts, as expected of the son of Sakura, and his personality is spot-on for an only child.  His social awkwardness at a playground, his comfort level around adults, his attachment to routines, his inability at times to interpret admonishments correctly, there are a plethora of details put into this kid.

The details are vivid in every character, from Kurenai and her plant-based diet to Shikamaru and his AA coin, from Moegi with her opinions on pearl succulents to Mirai’s preteen snarky attitude.  There’s a huge cast and each one feels in-character like in canon.

“Yes, the stories are dangerous, she was right. A book is a magic carpet that flies you off elsewhere. A book is a door. You open it. You step through. Do you come back?�� -  Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

Did you come back?

I opened the door to “Serenity Prayer.”  I loved her so much I never left, I traced the veins of her words and ordered my own in her image.

When you step through my doors, I hope you recognize her magic.

[siriusmydeer]

right here

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: sirius takes care of you when you’re sick

word count: 1.0k

warnings: throwing up, dizziness, cough and cold, medication, joking mention of dying and mentions of sirius’ asshat family

a/n: so this was a request but instead of adding it to my drafts i accidentally posted it, oops.

the past week you had been in a stump. a cold, sweaty and throat aching stump of sickness. a new wizard-like flu had been passed around the school and back. you had even caught dumbledore trying to choke back a cough in the great hall.

but madam promfrey had such a gruelling time getting from student to student, attempting to heal them. you were going to give her the benefit of the doubt; the woman was working overtime and i mean you could handle it, or atleast you thought you could.

well you could handle it until you were burying your face into your pillow trying to muffle your hoarse coughs, trying to maintain dizziness and a familiar bile like substance travelling up your throat in not such a timely manner and attempting to get to the toilet on time. not to mention your puppy-child of a boyfriend moaning and crying attempting to kiss you or get you to the healers wing.

sirius was almost acting like a seven year old, and you’d think he was the one that was sick. it was the early crack of dawn, a bubbling in your throat causing you to groan out into the thick humid air of your dorm and a hoarse cough left your throat.

you blindly tried to grab a tissue as your face was still buried in the pillow that had been previously flipped all night and managing to wipe your nose before carelessly throwing the said-tissue onto the floor.

there was a soft knock on the other end of your dormitory door, a small creak left the hinges as someone entered.

“sweetheart?” sirius, your lovely puppy dog of a boyfriend whispered in concern, incase you were most-likely sleeping. as the time was 5:03am and any natural human would be in a deep slumber.

“m’awake, probably dying.” you slurred, due to your aching throat and on the verge of falling back asleep but a tinge of restlessness layed in your brain so there was no way you were sleeping anytime soon.

you heard his soft footsteps on the creaking wood of your floor. probably only walking from his dorm in his socks and him setting a few things down on your beside table with a ‘clink’.

“ve’got you a few things, now scooch.” he beckoned you over so he could slip into your bed, but not without a fight from you of course.

“sirius m’sick! and sweaty, i sound like an old man!” you whined lifting your head up from your pillow tilting it to meet his pearl irises.

“don’t care, if madam pomfrey is suddenly not allowed to take care of you; per your request by the way. then i will, stubborn woman.” he spoke in a dramatic whisper. even in the early hours of the morning he never failed to be the biggest drama queen of the century.

he sat on your bed, the ivory bed sheets loosely hung around your figure that was clad in his pink floyd t-shirt and a pair of your favourite sleep shorts. “i see you’ve been all comfy.” he murmured with a light chuckle, moving the side of your face to be placed on his chest. hearing his smooth heart beat like a song beneath your ear.

“been all sweaty too, so hot and cold in here.” your voice hoarse, and obstruct from your sickness. yet even though you were completely flushed in a sheer layer of sweat, your hair was presented like it was a birds nest and your voice was far off from your normal tone he loved you even more.

anyway you looked, sounded, and acted he would never love you any less and the thought made him sick himself. almost not believing other partners or spouses couldn’t love their significant others at their worsts of the day.

all he wanted was to take care of his love. you were his main priority since he met you on the hogwarts train in first year, and he randomly decided in his brain that he wanted you in life forever. he knew not many people would stay for him, through the ups and downs from his childhood into early adulthood but the only person that mattered in that moment was you.

he nipped one of your spare hair ties off of his wrist, that he kept because you normally forgot, with the caps of his teeth and putting a loose ponytail into your hair, then swirling the pony around his finger to keep the hair off the sweaty nape of your neck.

“brought a few potions for you, love. i think they’ll help.” he whispered slightly slurred, his own tiredness taking over him aswell.

“everything hurts. don’t wanna move.” you sniffed and buried your cheek more into his shirt.

“got you pretty girl, no need to fret.” he spoke, his voice straining as he stretched his arm that wasn’t holding your locks grabbing a plum-coloured potion in a small vile.

you stared at the potion then at sirius for a moment with hooded eyes, debating if taking the interesting potion that could potentially heal you was worth it.

you craned your neck slightly forward, bringing your hand up from sirius’ waist that almost felt like a deadweight. you prayed to merlin himself that the potion would taste like something fruity or enjoyable, except you were met with the sharp taste of some bitter herb mixed with unpleasant pungent tastes that you couldn’t even identify.

you choked back a cough and immediately fell back onto sirius’ chest, his hand soothing your back giving it a small pat.

“good girl, love. feel all better soon.” he insisted into the crown of your head, giving it a small kiss.

“promise?”

“pinkie swear.” he held out his pinkie finger holding it to your hand that had fallen back to his waist. you strained your hand slightly curling your finger around his own.

“sleep, i’ll be here when you wake up.” he uttered as your dreams pulled you under. on the chest of the boy you loved, forever there to take care of you at your worst.

“i love you.” he whispered, before letting slumber take over his aswell.

taglist: @mushroomfleur @famdomhideout @fathermarty @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax

[wromwood]

Hey, hey! A new week, a new episode of CBS’s Ghosts. Here are my notes on the fifth episode of the season: “Halloween.”

.... Oops, I forgot this was in my drafts and now this post is almost four days late. Ah well.

- Aw, I like seeing the ghosts really appreciate a part of the house getting fixed up. In this case it was Hetty being happy at seeing the gazebo look more like how it used to. It really shows that these characters have a history with the house.

- At one point, Jay remarks about “The smiles you [Sam] claim to see on your invisible friends’ faces.” I can’t help but feel that “claim” makes this remark sound insulting. Jay seems to have more of these insulting-sounding comments about Sam’s relationship with the ghosts than Mike had for Alison.

- The ghosts have an interesting reason for not liking Halloween: they find people pretending to be ghosts insulting, and they themselves can’t do any fun living stuff. This makes me wonder what the BBC ghosts would think of the holiday. Share your thoughts!

- STOP, TREVOR (my reaction to him describing sexy Halloween costumes)

- (For effect, I’m going to share this next note exactly as I typed it while live-noting my thoughts.)

Sasappis died on Halloween. IN 1995.  IT IS A COSTUME. HIS NAME is MIKE, No, he’s 500 years old and joking. Storyteller, wink, it’s a gift. Ok, that got me but it just reminds me of my earlier comments.

OK, live-noting over. Now for context! Sasappis says his reason for hating Halloween is because he died on the holiday... in 1995. He’s wearing a Halloween costume and his name is Mike. But when Sam goes “Oh my god, really??”, he answers that no, of course it isn’t. He’s 500 years old and joking. He winks and says that he’s a story teller. It’s a gift.

This joke did make me laugh, but it IMMEDIATELY made me think of my earlier comments on Sasappis sounding a bit too modern to my ears, so much so that I honestly thought he might’ve been a modern ghost in a costume when I first saw/heard him. I wonder if this occurred to the writers as well, leading to this joke.

- The ghosts dislike how local kids vandalize the house every Halloween and they’re powerless to stop it. Now this is a cool addition to the CBS show. The BBC show is great, but I don’t know if we see too much of Button House’s neighbors (aside from that one rich dude and his wife). This CBS detail adds just a touch more world building.

- I don’t particularly care for Jay and Sam dressing up as the Step Brothers. Mostly because I’ve never seen the movie, but also because they’re just lame outfits. They do give a reason for it (It’s cheap, quick, and not sexually objectifying for Alison), but it’s just not entertaining for me.

- When a kid arrives dressed as a Ghostbuster, it freaks some of the ghosts out, but Pete and Trevor know what the kid is referencing. Trevor likes the movie Ghostbusters, but Pete hadn’t seen it because it came out the year before he died and he was very busy. Good job taking death dates into account and how they relate with the different characters.

- Sasappis has a weird moment where he says this: “I definitely wasn’t a parent! … I don’t know why I said definitely. I definitely had sex during my life.”

…. and then this continues into a whole one-sided sex conversation where Sasappis insists he’s not a virgin. This is ultimately proved correct by Thorfinn (who watched all those times), but... why did we need this from Sasappis? It honestly doesn’t feel important for his character to do/say. It just feels like a joke that could have easy been said by Trevor or any other character.

- So after the mischievous neighborhood kids egg the house, Sam (CORRECTLY) suggests talking to their parents. Jay says it’s not a good idea, since “Snitches get stitches.” Jay, come on. You’re a responsible adult. Apparently.

- Trevor uses his powers of touch to play Ghostbusters for him, Alberta and Pete. Alberta and Pete are horrified at Ghostbusters, and Trevor finds it disturbing now. This is a fun concept, and I’m glad I could see the ghosts’ reactions to modern depictions of ghosts. (Alberta:  “Why are they green? Were they green in life?! What died and made THAT ghost?!”) Also, seeing their perspectives change on something they knew in life now that they’re dead is pretty interesting.

- “I watched Jay sand for hours, getting sweater and sweater…” Goddamn it, Isaac. I know your whole thing is being gay, but lines like this make you sound as creepy as Trevor. BBC Ghosts did stuff like this better with the Captain’s occasional “compliments” towards Mike that sound more adorably flustered than creepy leering, as well as that one episode where Fanny gets overwhelmed with sudden flustered feelings on seeing Mike. (Her overreaction and horror at what she feels make it funny and not creepy)

- Isaac likes watching Bake Off. I just like this detail.

- Sam, don’t blame yourself for calling that kid’s mom. That was the right thing to do! DON’T MAKE THIS SHOW’S LESSON THAT YOU SHOULDN’T TELL PARENTS ABOUT THEIR KIDS’ BAD BEHAVIOR. (Ultimately, it isn’t, but the show never explicitly says that Sam was wrong to apologize for suggesting the responsible move here)

- “Didn’t kids murder you?” “Oh, that was just an accident. I think.” Further clues that Pete’s death is pretty similar to Pat’s.

- This episode has ONE appearance of headless dude. Just ONE of his headless body passing behind the cops after they asked Sam “Have you seen any other suspicious activity?” That’s IT. We don’t even see his HEAD.

- I like Alberta knowing Thorfin’s lying because she dated a two-timing bootlegger for five years. Anything to learn more of these characters’ histories.

- Well. We finally got it. Trevor’s one redeeming quality. He stands with Pete when he wants to tell Sam the truth about the gazebo (that the ghosts blamed the mischievous kids on it burning down instead of admitting that Thorfinn messed with the lights and caused a fire.) Halloween perpetuates the stereotype that ghosts are evil, Trevor says, and blaming the kids make the ghosts exactly what Halloween says they are.

- “He’s [Trevor’s] the one doing the right thing?” “Yeah, I’m surprised too.” SAME HERE, TWO CHARACTERS THAT I FORGOT TO LIST THE NAMES OF. SAME HERE.

- I did find Trevor teaching the ghosts to slow clap at his victory kind of fun. (No one except Pete knows it’s a cliche, so he savors the moment of them all doing it genuinely)

- So, once Sam informs the cops that they were wrong to judge the kids, and that she accidentally started the fire with a cigarette (she lies out of bad improv, and also because the ghosts didn’t tell her how the fire started), one cop says this:

“Ma’am, if you have any other problems, please lose our number.”

To which Sam replies: “Yeah, that’s fair.”

NO IT’S NOT, THEY’RE THE POLICE, HOLY SHIT. Like.... the police’s job is to help you with problems! (yeah, they have a bad track record for it, but for now, they’re the folks to call until the system is fixed.) For context, the cops aren’t just mad with them because of the gazebo. They also dislike Sam and Jay because of the viking funeral incident with their canoe. So there is even more reason to think that this isn’t “just a joke.” Even if this is a joke, that’s a bad joke. You don’t want the cops to imply that they won’t help you in an emergency.

- So, Sam and Jay treat the ghosts like children (and even say, in WORDS, that they’ve acted like children and should be treated as such) and give the ghosts consequences for their actions (no TV). I kinda… don’t like that. I do think they need consequences for lying, but I don’t like Sam and Jay rubbing it in that they are “children” in this circumstance. It’s very demeaning, and I want the living and the dead to respect each other as PEOPLE.

- Well, at least Jay appreciates the ghost Halloween. The ghosts burned down their gazebo in front of their haunted house. And he finds that cool. Maybe this will make him feel better about his decision to WILLINGLY PUT THEM INTO DEBT WHEN HIS WIFE COULDN’T PHYSICALLY HELP HIM MAKE THOSE DEALS. Just saying. Earlier when he complained about missing out on Brooklyn Halloween parties, I had no sympathy. You did that to yourself.

- …. They’re incorporating the stepbrothers costumes into their making out, which, as one of the characters point out, is disturbing. (Although it does let us know that Hetty married her cousin.) God, as if I needed more of a reason to dislike their Halloween costumes.

And those are all my notes! I hope you’ve all had a Happy Halloween.

[smallpotatoknitwear]

WIP blanket update 6/05/21*

*The information in this post is outdated because I typed the whole thing up, saved it to my drafts to add links… and promptly forgot to do so 😅 I’ve actually finished the ten-stitch by now, and done work on a few others as well, including my Granny Square Quilt!

Hey, y’all! It’s been about two and a half months since I did a blanket update, but I’ve been doing a lot of work on some of them lately, trying to get as much done on the ten-stitch and granny stripe specifically before I go back to work in a week! My goal is to finish the ten-stitch before the 13th of June, but… we’ll see 😅 The reason I’ve been focusing so much on those two blankets specifically is because they’re not so transportable, so, while I am able to bring projects to work with me and work on them during breaks and downtime, I can’t exactly transport an entire, massive “worked in one piece” blanket like the ten-stitch or granny stripe with me. But smaller quilt-style or pieced afghans are a lot easier to transport, because I can throw a few balls/skeins/etc of yarn into my bag for the day and make a few pieces if I have time! Thankfully, 3/5 of the blankets on my to-make list ATM are pieced blankets—you can check out my “coming soon” blanket post to see what some of those are, but two of them are also introduced in this post!

Not pictured: Granny Square Quilt, because it’s still currently on pause, although I plan to start working on it again once I go back to work; Mitered Granny and Tilt-a-Whirl because I’ve finished them both! Stay tuned for individual posts about those two FOs!

Ten-Stitch (Knit)

As of these photos, I was about halfway through this blanket—I was around halfway through cake four, and I’m planning to use eight cakes total and then use the ninth to just finish up whatever edge I run out of the eighth cake on so that I don’t have a weird chunk missing out of it! Since I took these photos about a week ago (I’ve really been procrastinating on writing this post oops—) I’ve finished the fourth cake and have only a little left of the fifth cake! So, even if I don’t finish the blanket by 6/13 like I’d like to, I should be close and can hopefully get it done before work gets crazy again. As you can see, though, my little furry lady seems to like this blanket already! She used to sleep on it a lot before I had to move all my work back up into my room when my brother moved back into the basement, so I’m sure she’s looking forward to being able to sleep on it again when it’s finished!

Floral Beauty Throw

The last time I talked about this blanket, it was in my “coming soon” post. I decided to make a few test squares before starting the blanket itself, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to use a US H or I size hook, so I made two squares with each size. The two on the left are with the H hook, and the two on the right are with the I hook. As you can see, there isn’t really much difference between them 😂 I plan to block them (the yarn has a wool content, so I’m going to have to soak rather than steam block, which makes me a little sad because steam blocking is so much easier) to make sure, but at this point I’m planning to use the I hook, and, if I can block all four to be close enough in size, I’ll probably just include the two H hook squares in the final afghan.

On the bright side, I won’t have tons of ends to weave in for this blanket, since the yarn is self-striping!

Total pieces: 4/30 (although I may do more squares depending on how my yarn gets used)

Granny Stripe Blanket

It may not look like it, but I’ve actually done a ton of work on this blanket recently! In my last WIP post, I had about 38 rows done—as of these photos, I have about 60 done! It’s officially gotten too long to double over for photos, and the width of it makes it really difficult to take top-down photos, so it’s hard to get good pictures of, but I really love how it’s turning out so far! I also love how the color pooling has been sort of bouncing from side to side the further I go! I can’t wait to see how it turns out!

Scrap Granny Triangle Quilt

I wasn’t planning on starting this blanket just yet—it’s going to be a good one for taking back to work—but I hit a point recently where I didn’t want to work on any of my WIPs so I decided to start this instead 😅 I’m really happy with how it’s going so far! I’m using scrap and leftover yarn for the triangles, and plan to do some mixing of textures in it. You can already see a bit of that here, as I’ve used some bits of fuzzy yarn, as well as some Caron Simply Soft scraps that have different textures than the worsted yarns I’ll be using for the majority of the blanket. I already know that I’ll have to pick up a few skeins to supplement my scraps, so I think I’m going to look for more of the turquoise/grey/white variegated yarn from those two triangles at the top left, as well as some different shades of purple and blue, keeping the red for more accent triangles rather than making it a main color of the blanket. There are a few things kind of bumming me out about this blanket, though—namely that I’m going to need a lot more triangles than I realized to make the blanket as big as I’d like to… and that it looks like I’m going to have to block every. single. triangle…

I’ve also tweaked the pattern slightly (check my coming soon post to see the photo pattern I’m using for reference) because I wasn’t able to neatly work the corners the way the pattern indicated they should be work, so you can see where my rows are joined in the middle of the triangle sides. I don’t mind this too much, though, and I think once the ends are woven in, and the whole thing is pieced together, they’ll be much less noticeable. Hopefully.

Total pieces: 15/225 (approx)

[bronanlynch]

weekly (monthly?) media roundup

ok so I do want to actually do these on some sort of schedule but unfortunately, as you already know, brains,

listening: Malice in Wonderland by Fangbanger, which I found from a tumblr post that described them as band for “if you have a complicated relationship with gender, had a falling out with god, hate the government, or just think that vampires are neat" and y’know? yeah. my notes on this song from several weeks ago are that I might not know any of these people’s genders but I do know they’ve listened to MCR

reading: the new Cassandra Clare book, Chain of Iron. it’s boring and homophobic. in the first book of this series, we find out that the heroine’s brother is gay and in a relationship with a man who has no intention of ever coming out publicly because 1) the book is set in 1903 in England, it was literally illegal and 2) he’s trying to have a career in politics. the heroine decides that this means he’s ashamed of her brother and doesn’t deserve him, and she is present and active in their breakup conversation.

above is the relationship chart I made from the first book, it really hasn’t changed much except now the main guy and the main girl are married, the lesbians got back together and then broke up again, the main girl’s gay brother hooked up with one of her husband’s friend, who’s a Good Gay and therefore worthy of love unlike the Bad Gay ex who is constantly mocked by just about every character for. checks notes. caring about appearances and manners given that his life and career are based on those things. the brother and his new love interest break up because the brother still thinks he’s a bad person for ever having dated his ex. also the main girl has now platonically run off to Paris with her husband’s platonic soulmate who is allegedly in love with her but it’s really unconvincing that he’s not actually in love with her husband (he’s not for very stupid lore reasons, the whole ‘parabatai are magically prevented from being romantically in love, except for these two straight people, when historically parabatai pairs were two men’ makes my fucking blood boil)

you might ask why I still read these books even though they make me angry and the answer is the 1) the aesthetic slaps 2) some of the characters are fun 3) the premise has enough potential that it could be good if it was good 4) sometimes I need to get cathartically angry abt bad fiction bc it just. does not matter

watching: so many things that I’m gonna just. run through them real quick

Word of Honor: gestures vaguely at how it’s slowly taking over my blog

Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty: love a found family, eh about the politics, can’t believe I predictably got a new fave character within the last two episodes of the show because one of the main characters is betrayed by his second-in-command and I think treason is the sexiest part of a relationship

SamBucky show: in the original draft of this post I said that it was so boring that week (episode 3) that I completely forgot about it until I saw the draft below this one talking about how bad and boring it is. at least more happened in later episodes and they’re finally giving me some tasty queerbaiting but the premise and the politics are. wow. it sure is military propaganda

My Hero Academia: new season is fun, love a tournament arc. don’t love that they tell us right away that the double agent character is a double agent, it was more fun in the manga when you’re not sure if he’s a traitor or not for a pretty long time

Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun: new season is cute, there sure is some gender happening. there’s a tsundere bisexual catgirl

Backflip!!: I usually avoid high school sports anime for backstory reasons but my roommate wanted to watch it with me and oh boy these gymnasts sure are gay for each other huh

Joran: The Princess of Snow and Blood: my roommate pitched this to me as ‘cyberpunk but in the 1930s’ and there sure is dark lighting, lots of glowy neon stuff, and government oppression, which are the most important elements of cyberpunk apparently. not sure how I feel about it yet, because there’s a cool shapeshifting lady assassin with a revenge quest but there’s also a trans character who was revealed to be trans in a way that I personally did not enjoy. yes you can have transphobic villains but like. hmm. maybe the audience shouldn’t find out that someone is trans because the villain cuts his shirt away specifically to ~put him in his place. or maybe I personally am just sensitive to that but either way no thank you

on the other hand, the main character is sick as shit

The World Ends with You: god I love an anime about the power of friendship. I’ve only had these kids for two episodes and I would lay down my life for them

Nirvana in Fire: we’re only three episodes in and I did spend the first half of the first ep being like. oh god which of these people are actually important who am I supposed to care about here. and then by the end of the first ep I knew which ones I cared about and am now very afraid for their safety. do love the political intrigue though

playing: got through the first mission of Brigmore Witches. I love a good undercover mission, I wish I hadn’t been too afraid of like. alarms going off if I freed the other prisoners because I think Comrade Daud should do a jailbreak, and Lizzy Stride can call me anytime

also recently have played various ttrpgs including Firebrands, more Things, Eldritch and Terrifying, Link, and of course more Beam Saber (oh shit I meant to do my recap post for last session OOPS)

making: Zan and I made some real good chicken parm the other night, vaguely based on this recipe. by which I mean, we looked at the recipe to see how many eggs to use and how long to cook it and pretty much nothing else. the egg marinade step seemed unnecessary and I made the sauce the way I always make tomato sauce, which some day I should write down because it does in fact fuck. the secret is a shit-ton of oregano and basil and no chunks of tomato because fuck that. bad texture

Zan made the zucchini which also slapped, using some of the leftover bread crumbs

writing: I’ve posted a couple of things but most recently I wrote some rarepair femslash. this is the first fic for this ship on ao3 and the second ship in the f/f tag for this fandom that’s actually about the women in the show (as opposed to showing up in the f/f tag because it’s marked as “multi” or like. genderbent versions of the main m/m ship) but like. look at them. they’re terrible evil assassin women and they’re in love. anyway I’ve gotten over being embarrassed about having written a sex scene and moved on to wanting people to read my fic. there’s sparring as foreplay it’s a good time

[boomerang109]

*looks at my fic, which hasn’t been updated in 4 weeks (other than edits because i Didn’t Like It) and i’ve now driven myself into a horrible writers block immediately after outlining the entire thing possibly because i have outlined the entire thing and i forgot where i was going with this but am i sending it anyway yes i am please god tell me to write someone threw my motivation out the window and it’s all muddy now and i don wanna touch it oh god what even is that metaphor see what i mean about the writers block anyway ily cant wait for the next chapter of wwda get it out when you can don’t stress ily bye*

don’t tell me why my brain is like “yes we can answer this but we’ll combust if we look at any messages.” there’s no logic but i’ll get around to your messages and everyone else’s there. (to everyone waiting for like two sentence answers who’s seeing me post paragraphs, i’m sorry. the braincell does not function)

the way that i’m in YES! i can help! mode even tho i myself am lowkey in writer’s block which means i’m not qualified at all ajfhjghfgfdjghj

first of all: outlines are just to guide you. they stress me the fuck out too (which is why i’ve refused to put my wwda outline to paper, despite the fact that this means the timeline is absolutely fucked. like it’s in my brain, but if i put it on paper i’ll try to stick to it and i’ll freak out--see my month long break when i had an “outline” for chapter four). you can have goals for chapters (ie, lay groundwork for foreshadowing/character development/etc) but overall? just let yourself sit in front of the computer and vibe. don’t think about where you’re going, just think about where you are. 

“i don wanna touch it oh god what even is that metaphor see what i mean about the writers block“ this? this is you judging yourself while you write and i don’t want to see ANY of that shit. writing is a process and editing is a thing, but when you’re doing your first draft you just gotta word vomit. sorry that’s a gross phrase but that’s what i do. and honestly? most of wwda is barely pieced together word vomit. idek why anyone likes it, but they do. and even if they didn’t--nothing would exist if you don’t put something to paper to start with.

apparently this advice doesn’t apply to everyone (i still can’t process @hella1975 ‘s writing technique like what the actual fuck) but for me one of the big things with writer’s block is starting where i want to start and just writing whatever fucking scenes i want. idk if that makes sense so i’ll put it into the context of wwda. so when i was still in my fucking intensive class i wasn’t writing cause i didn’t have time except for like a few minutes before bed at like 3am. now at 3am i’m not gonna write suki and azula being rivals cause i can barely handle that dynamic when i’m Focused. but at 3am i’m sad as fuck and i generally like to peruse the ao3 dadkoda tag, so instead i just wrote my own dadkoda scenes for much later (although they’re not actually that far off) in the fic. are they gonna need some editing cause i was just like ‘maximum angst even tho this scene is supposed to be about healing’? yes. yes i was. now the other day on the plane (when i really should’ve been working on an essay i didn’t end up finishing) i was like okay, i need to work on something actually relevant to chapter 12. but i’ve worked myself into a corner with my azula & iroh scene so i didn’t want to deal with that bullshit on two hours of sleep and also being called “miss” and other female terms in the airport got me all in the gender feels so i was like oh! i’ll write some more enby aang! and i wrote this like gorgeous passage or two on aang’s gender feels. and yeah, it probably makes no sense for aang cause i wrote it from a pov that was too much me and not enough aang, but the point still remains. i skipped to a part of the chapter that was important to me. and then i realized that aang could be having these thoughts in the context of another scene which led to . . . and there i was with somewhat of a complete thought for the chapter. 

also along those lines, if you’re having writer’s block you gotta look at that block. what’s wrong? is there something wrong with the story up to this point? is there something you don’t like about where you’re going? is there something you really want to write that you’re not letting yourself write? 

cause the thing is, we’re not professional authors. we’re fic writers. we do this for fun cause we love the characters. so if you’re not loving the characters for some reason, you shouldn’t force yourself. take the pressure off yourself. this fandom is so supportive, they’re not going to rush you (literally look at the fact that even as you say you’re excited for wwda you also tell me not to stress) and remember to apply that to yourself. it’s okay to need a break, whether that’s cause the vibes are off or cause you’re tired or any other reason. 

i tried to write a bunch of different thoughts cause i know different things work for different people, i hope at least one of these ideas help. i literally haven’t looked at wwda even though i really want to be writing (and i still haven’t been reading fic). sometimes our brains just don’t cooperate. and yeah, i could sit here and yell at myself and go “what the fuck boom you’ve been looking forward to writing for literal weeks and now you have time and you’re doing other stuff what is wrong with you” and sometimes it’s really tempting to give into that. but the truth is i don’t usually do as much work as i did the past few weeks on as little sleep as i got so i’m really fucking tired. and so i’m giving myself a break. and i’m just not emotionally prepared to read fic cause--oh oops i hadn’t admitted to myself until right this second that i was avoiding fic cause i’m suppressing my feelings that kinda hurt wtf this wasn’t supposed to become therapy hour wtf. but as dumb as all that feels to put, i’m not gonna delete it cause i’m sure you’re gonna read it and say something along the lines of “it’s okay to rest and wait to read/write if that’s what you need!” cause you’re a nice person. so say those things to yourself IF that’s what you need. but if you’ve been sitting in bed for weeks and don’t have any reason not to write, maybe it’s time to word vomit. or if you have a problem with your story maybe you should look at that. just, do whatever works for you but be gentle with yourself. give yourself the same kindness you give others. whenever i’m not sure how to handle something (or how to treat myself ig), i’ll ask myself how i would give advice to a friend. so maybe try that. look at yourself, your writing process, your fic like it’s a friend’s and be like hmm. what would i recommend my friend do? and if weird rambley advice that probably displays my many years of therapy is helpful to you, then know my inbox (and my messages that i swear i’ll answer some day) are always open. i’m not gonna read this over cause i know if i do i’ll be too embarrassed to post so i’m just hoping it’s helpful. much love <3

[the-last-airbadger]

My 2020

Hey y’all. So 2020 happened. That was a thing. Apparently. I know for a lot of people this year was uhm… pretty shit… but it was still a year that happened so it’s time for my annual reflection post (probably the only time I still post about myself on tumblr lol) and maybe we might even find some good things that happened this year!

 The Beginning of 2020 vs Now

So, a lot has changed since the start of the year. A pandemic happened, for one. I can’t believe that a year ago I could still go to class every day and see my friends and now I’m pretty much stuck at home every day. The year started out pretty normal and then march happened and well, you all know what happened next. The worst part about the pandemic for me personally was probably the fact that I barely see my friends anymore and I can’t go to class every day. Some people may not think that not going to class is that bad, but I really enjoyed university more than I ever enjoyed school and I was really happy going there every day, and I was already sad I’d only have 4 to 5 years to spend there, so when that period got even shorter it made me kinda sad.

On the other hand, I do think that mentally I’m in a much better place than I was last year around this time. Being home this much really gave me time to reflect and work on my issues, and because my sister was stuck in our house for a couple of weeks I got to talk to her a lot which really helped me feel better. I think in general my entire family (my brother, sister and mom) have become a lot more open with each other which I think is great! I guess quarantine can have some benefits.

 The Best Things about 2020

Okay, here’s is where we’re going to get even more positive and go over all the good things that happened (to me) this year! To be honest, most of the year was a bit of a blur so I probably will forget quite a bit, but I’m going to give this a try anyway. At the start of the year (when things were still normal) I was super excited to get into the next semester, as the one before had,,, kinda sucked, and those 6 weeks of class I had at the start of the year were really great. I remember me and my friends having a competition of who could get mentioned the most in our teacher’s powerpoint presentation so those classes were always interesting. I also finally got to dye my hair for the first time with the help of my friends. I’ve been wanting to do that for so long, and I’m so happy I finally got to do it! I even know how to do it myself now, and my hair hasn’t been brown since the start of march! Then, at the start of march, my dad and stepmother moved away and I permanently moved in with my mom. Before, I used to live with both my mom and my dad and I got really really sick of switching houses every week, so to finally live in one house and have all my stuff in one place was a bit of a relief to me, and I’m still really happy with it. After that, things become a bit blurry. I remember that at the start of quarantine in … April? I watched Sex Education or the first time, which is now not only one of my favourite shows ever, but also taught me a lot and helped me with some of the issues I was dealing with. We’ll skip over the subsequent sexuality crisis I had (I think I might actually be straight??), and skip straight to the summer, when I started watching I-Land. I watched every episode as it aired live, and because of this show my Fridays really became the highlight of the week. I don’t think I’ve ever been so invested in a survival show XD. The rest of the year was mostly just me spending time with myself. It got a bit lonely sometimes, but I also don’t think I’ve ever written as much as I have this year, and my drawing has significantly improved (if I may say so myself)! Especially towards the end of the year, when I started making a planning every day to prevent myself from wasting away all my time on youtube, I got super productive, and I wrote a lot, and made a lot of art, and I really felt good. I even started (gasp) working out. Yeah I know. Shocking right.

There was also a lot of good music that was released this year, and, to close this section on a great note, through one of my classes I finally found a group of friends to play D&D with! We haven’t actually played yet, but we will, and I’m so excited to play the game and get to know these people more! They all seem really kind!

 My Resolutions for 2020?

Now, here’s the part where we check whether I actually reached all the goals I set myself for 2020. As usual, I have no idea what my resolutions were, so I honestly have no idea how I did. Let’s see, shall we?

Express my feelings more (as in I get really awkward in any sappy or mushy situation but I would like to be able to tell people I appreciate them without cringing) – UHM way to attack me on the very first resolution jeez. I did get more open with my family but I still can’t tell people I care about them without cringing so this is a fail lol

Again, learn to depend less on other people’s opinion and trust my own – I’ve been working on it, I think I’ve gotten a bit better? So win?

Get my sleeping schedule back on track – did that! It’s a bit whacky again now because of the holidays, but October and November were a big success regarding this resolution

WRITE MORE. This time I’ll make some concrete goals: Either I’ll get my story’s first draft done, or I’ll write 100 pages on a single project – okay, so here’s the thing. I don’t think I did any of these particular things, however this time I am 100% sure I wrote a lot more than the past years. I cannot count all the files and pages and notes I have now, but I wrote a lot, so I’m counting this as a win

I want to try NaNoWriMo (not necessarily in November, but at some point) – yeah, didn’t do that oops

I want to read a lot again but maybe not as much as this year because I want to focus on writing too. 40 books? – 49 books babey

Read all my current unread books (Aru Shah 2, Skullduggery Pleasant 9, Gemina, The Mistborn Trilogy and Call Down The Hawk) and finish my reread of Heroes of Olympus and the Raven Cycle) – Did all of these except Skullduggery Pleasant 9 (the start was so boring I decided not to read it all) and The Mistborn Trilogy (I am about halfway through the first book I think?) so I’m counting this as half a win

Finally read a book by V.E. Schwab (I’ve been wanting to try one of her books for ages) – Did that! Read a whole trilogy. It was good but not as great as I expected them to be. I think my expectations were too high though

Finish Playing Twilight Princess (I promised my brother) – Did that! I’m really proud of myself and so is my brother

Go. Swimming. Seriously. It’s scandalous that I still haven’t done that after waiting so long to be able to – IT’S BEEN 5 YEARS SINCE I LAST WENT SWIMMING WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME. I did buy new swimshorts but I still haven’t actually used them… shame on me

Try to worry less about school and not overwork myself – kinda?

Maybe try another drawing challenge somewhere this summer? I haven’t done any of those in a while and I feel like my art needs more attention – okay, so I didn’t do that, but I did at the start of the year make the resolution to make portrait/photoshoot-like drawings for my 8 main oc’s, and I did actually manage to finish that, and they are some of the best drawings I’ve ever made, so though I haven’t actually done a challenge specifically, I did do something

I want to try a 24 hour readathon – Yeah, didn’t do that oops

I kinda want to learn a piano piece as well, but I already have so many hobbies I want to focus on so I don’t know if I’ll have the time ☹ – yeah my dad sold our piano so… fail XD

 Expectations for 2021

Now, after last year I think it’s safe to say we can never really know what to expect. But! I’m going to guess anyway because it’ll be really fun to see next year whether I got anything right.

The first thing that I think will probably happen this year (if I don’t majorly mess anything up) is I’ll be writing my thesis next semester, and then in the summer I’ll get my bachelor’s degree. Honestly I can’t believe how fricking fast those 3 years went, but I guess I’ll just have to roll with it lol. Corona vaccinations will also probably start happening next year, and hopefully this will mean that going outside and seeing my friends will be possible again next year – at least a lot more than it was this year. I hope 2021 will be the year of hanging out with friends and getting to live a little again. Maybe even get to go to class. That would be great.

On to more minor – but no less exciting – things, 2021 will probably bring us a new season of Sex Education! I’m sooo excited for that holy shit. And, in a similar vein, I have high hopes for kpop releases now that SHINee is finally back, and it looks like Haseul is also returning to LOONA! 2021 will also be the year in which ENHYPEN makes their first comeback, and some of the other I-LAND contestants will also make their debut, and there might even be a new season of I-LAND as well in the summer? So there’s a lot of things to look forward to. Oh, and I almost forgot, Dan Howell’s book will be released in May, and there will be a new Grishaverse book, and the Shadow and Bone show will start airing, which I am really curious about. Again, lots of things to look forward to!

 2021 Resolutions

I’m not feeling as ambitious as I was last year, but there are a couple of things I want to try and do, so let’s jump into the resolutions!

I just came up with this today, but I think I want to try and build a bit of a skincare routine? The skin on my nose is kinda flakey, and I think it couldn’t hurt to try and take better care of my skin

Keep up with my daily workouts. I want to work out every day, except when I’m at my dad’s or when it’s a special day, like Christmas or something.

Be able to do either 50 push-ups on my knees, 25 normal push-ups, or both

GO SWIMMING

Keep up with planning daily! It’s a really good way to balance all of my 3195 hobbies and it helps me to not get stressed about school

Write (almost) every day. I need to make it a habit

Draw at least once a week, every other day if possible

Go outside at least once a week. That doesn’t seem very hard but with corona I did not realise how little I go outside if I am not forced to. Sometimes I spend 3 weeks without going out and I don’t even notice it. That can’t be good for me lol

Try to make healthier food choices. Maybe follow the lunch meal plan of the guy whose workout videos I follow.

Get my bachelor’s degree

Grow a beard. I’m getting closer… I know I’m getting closer…

Meet with my frIENDS and give them the alBUMS I have for them

Be more careful with my money, maybe even save a bit of money

Spend less time on social media

Read more educational books

I think that’s it! I can’t think of anything else right now so these will have to do. I wish that 2021 will treat all of you much better than whatever mess 2020 was! Happy 2021!

Last year’s post: (x)

@the-official-pentacorn @asiandutchgirl

[reader-rabbit]

Celestial Music: Chapter Two

A/N: In a shocking display of human error, not only did I lose track of the days of the week and think Saturday was Friday (and Friday was Thursday), I also forgot to post this yesterday. Oops. Well, here it is now! Enjoy!

Read Chapter One Here!

Find Celestial Music on Wattpad

Warnings: Some violence

_______________

The invaders congregated in the scorched inn, raiding what remained of its stores of ale and tart berry wine from summer harvests. When the wolf-eyed man pushed Marysa through the door, the air was loud and thick with laughter, and the stench of unwashed bodies and strong drink burned her nose. Marysa was surprised to see women among them, laughing and drinking, with blood spatters on their hands and arms that rivaled those on the hands and arms of the men.

In their revelries, clustered around the oak tables and arrayed haphazardly through the room with piles of spoils, they did not notice the silent young woman with steel in her spine and the pounding heart of a cornered beast. They did, however, turn to see the men behind her, who shouted in that strange language, one lifting his arm high. Marysa did not have to turn to know that he held her father’s sword.

At the sight of it, the room fell silent, as if he held one of the great stars in his hand instead of a sword. Halvar pushed Marysa further into the center of the room, where a fisherman had spilled a whole bottle of that prized summer wine last month. Marysa had painstakingly cleaned it, but there was still a stain there in the floor beneath her bare feet, darkening the irregular grain of the wood. The man holding her father’s sword spoke gravely, as if reciting an epic poem, and stalked forward to stand in front of her. Recitation over, he whirled to face her and rested the tip of that sword—the sword she had watched her father polish to gleaming blackness every evening before bed—on her bare throat.

“Why did you have this blade?” The invader narrowed his eyes as he enunciated the question with slow care, as if he was unaccustomed to their twisting consonants. The curious tilt of his head brought one of the braids in his hair to swing toward the neck of his tunic.

Marysa swallowed, and felt the sharp sword tip rise and fall on her neck with the movement. She knew how sharp this blade was. Her father had always warned her of its keen edge, and she had more than a few nicks on her arms and fingers from handling it improperly. One wrong move by her or by this invader, and her throat would be slit wide open.

“Tell me,” the invader snarled, his knuckles white on the handle of the sword. Self-preservation won over wisdom.

“My father,” she said. “The sword belonged to my father.”

The silence around her went as thick as the sap from the broad trees surrounding the village. The man in front of Marysa recovered first, leaning closer to her without moving the sword a hair. “And who,” he formed his words with menacing care, “was your father?”

Marysa did not dare breathe, did not dare swallow as she exhaled his name for the fear of the blade at her throat. “Aryn Blársverð.”

The man flinched at the name, his eyes going wide in his weathered face. His jerking movement let the sword fall from her neck, grazing the sleeve of her woolen coat and leaving a gap in the fabric where the draft of the room crept in to trace Marysa’s skin. The man knew her father’s name; Marysa had seen the recognition flash across his features, tightening his mouth and raising his brow. The man somehow knew and admired her father.

He turned and held his arms wide to the room, a showman in his element. He still held the sword as if it were a prize, but the room had seen his clumsiness with it, even if it was just in a moment of shock. Their admiring gazes were not on him as he made a grand announcement in his foreign tongue, but on Marysa.

A young invader with long, fair hair and the steady gaze of a man who knows himself spoke up, his words crashing waves in the silence of the room. He used the invader’s tongue, but she could tell from the upward tilt of his tone that he was asking a question. He watched her carefully, even as he addressed the group.

The showman took Marysa by the chin, jerking her forward and off balance. He pointed to her freckle-kissed face, then took a lock of dark brown hair that had come loose from its braid and clutched it in his fist. He unfurled his fingers from the wavy strands as if they were pearls instead of hair. She could not understand his words, but he sounded confident in his answer.

The invaders around her nodded, their own tightly-woven braids bobbing with the movement. Their eyes were on the showman who held her father’s sword. The young invader, however, was still on his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest while his steady gaze appraised her.

At this agreement, the wolf-eyed man took hold of Marysa’s arms and wrenched them behind her. With a swing of her father’s sword, the showman seemed to give him permission, and dread built heavy in her stomach. He jostled and herded her upstairs, where the three boarding rooms for the few travelers who stumbled across their small village waited. Only one of the three rooms seemed to have survived the invaders’ fire, and the invader opened that door and pushed her through. He tossed her in the direction of the bed, where Marysa fell face-first into the bedsheet she had laundered just a week ago. Before she could clamber to her feet, her hands were tied roughly behind her back, attached to the bedpost, and the door was slammed shut behind her.

Marysa righted herself slowly. The room was smothered in darkness; it had no windows, but night had long ago secured its hold on the sky. Still, Marysa knew that there was a table next to the bed that held a clean basin for water and a towel. The door could not lock, so if she could free herself from this rope, she could leave. The trouble was that the inn was too poor and the visitors too few for a second staircase to be useful. Only the staircase that opened to the inn’s bar and common room would take her down to the door and to freedom. The very same room that was now brimming with invaders, all armed to the teeth and stained with innocent blood.

Her father had taught Marysa to be smart. If there was a time to escape, it had either long passed, or it was coming soon. Though she suspected that chance had flown, she lay down on the bed and gather strength for the opportunity of escape that might yet come.

* * *

The invaders woke her before dawn, escorting her with rough hands to the docks, where longboats littered the shore. She had been shuffled into the largest one, along with other captives from the village, and a crowd of warriors had piled into the boat with their spoils and rowed away. Utter defeat washed over Marysa as she watched her home disappear into the horizon, sending a smoldering black pillar into the sky. The invaders must have set it ablaze like they had the town and left it to crumble in the heat. Soon even the smoke was swallowed by waves sparkling in the morning sun, though she could still taste it on her tongue and feel the burn of it in her nose. With that disappearing smoke, she knew her chance for escape was long gone, and so was her home.

She was wedged between the blacksmith’s broad-shouldered wife with tear tracks on her soot-streaked face and a waif-thin boy whose father had been a shepherd. She had not seen the blacksmith or the shepherd among the prisoners.

“Why didn’t you escape?” The blacksmith’s wife asked Marysa in a whisper, her wary eyes on the invaders that lined the benches of the boat, rowing to the beat of a drum. The woman’s name was—why could Marysa not remember her name? She always had trouble remembering names of acquaintances. She remembered her face, and that her father had praised the woman’s work and that of her husband, Amos. Was it Danira?

Marysa shook her head in answer, letting her words be so quiet that she barely had to move her mouth to respond. “They found me as I ran. I was not fast enough.”

At the sound of her whisper, the boy next to Marysa shuddered, digging his bony shoulders into her side. The showman invader who had paraded Marysa at the inn sat above the drum-beater at the back of the boat, watching her and the other captives with the eyes of a hawk. The captives had learned early not to speak loudly, or not to speak at all. One of the fishermen from the village, unhappy with his fetters and his captors, had complained loudly as they set sail, criticizing the invaders for their cowardice in taking what did not belong to them. That same fisherman was huddled in the prow of the ship now, his lash-striped back on display through the tatters of what had been his shirt. Marysa did not want to be at the cruel end of that leader’s whip.

She turned her gaze forward, away from the rocking waves. Her eyelids slid closed, and she pushed past the sensations of the prodding, shifting bodies of strangers beside her to concentrate on the motion of the boat in the water. She hoped distantly that she would not be seasick; she had never been in the open water before, but her mother had once bragged to Marysa that her father rode the sea as the Elf King rode his steed of silver.

Her mother had always been gentle, even to the point of fanciful. She loved the old tales, and, in her youth, had collected stories from the villagers and had written them down on parchment scrolls that now lay in ashes. Her mother’s favorite was the story of the Elf King’s journey to find his future wife. It was a long, winding tale, until the Elf King left all the green in the world for a land of sand and hot sun, where he found the most beautiful woman he had ever seen living in rocky caves. He sang to her, and used his magic to give her the first flower she had ever seen. Only then did she agree to be his, and they returned to the Earl King’s forest on his silver horse.

The story had been turned into a song, too. Marysa had only heard it once, but one phrase looped over and over in her mind.

Oh, the Elf King and his lovely bride:

As they rode, flowers grew behind.

She hummed the phrase softly, so quietly that she barely felt the air pass through her nose. At least the invaders had not taken this from her.

A hollow thunk startled Marysa’s eyes open. One of the invaders had dropped her oar, pointing over the bow of the ship at the water.

“Blárfiskr!” She exclaimed, with awe and fear in her voice.

Marysa twisted to see what so fascinated the woman, peering over the carefully-carved side of the boat to the water. In the waves on the side of the boat, a cluster of black dorsal fins pierced through the waves, only to disappear beneath the water with a puff of mist.

The sight sent bittersweet joy streaking through Marysa. She recognized the jagged edge of one female’s dorsal fin, rising next to the intimidating height of the large male of her village’s pod. These were the whales that had danced with her, that had helped to bring light into her darkest days.

Marysa looked away from those familiar silhouettes speeding through the water, ignoring the deepening ache in her chest, focusing instead on the weathered wooden slats beneath her feet. The invaders around her shouted what sounded like a mix of curses and prayers.

The son of the shepherd leaned into Marysa even further, his voice shaking as hard as his bony frame. “The black whales,” he said, “my father said they could kill a man with one bite.”

Marsya looked at him then, her confidence making her careless. “They can, but they will not.” Her earnest expression held his wide eyes captive. “They never attack boats. We will be safe.”

She spoke too loudly, and the hawk-eyed invader with a flair for the dramatic jumped from his bench, landing with the weight of a fallen tree. He strode toward her and the boy, and the windswept fur around his shoulders made him seem immense.

“Of what do you speak?” He called as he walked down the length of the boat, along the board that balanced in the center of the oarsmen’s benches. Her father’s sword hung in its scabbard on the man’s belt, thumping his leg gently with every stride. At his use of her language, and at the ringing tone he had taken, his men went silent.

Marysa went still. She wished she had her dagger. By the Eternal Star, she wished she had her father’s sword in her hands. But she had neither, and there was a warrior in front of her, demanding that she give answer.

“The whales,” Marysa said, praying her voice held steady.

The leader repeated her answer in a long, mocking drawl. “The whales. Is that what you call them? A weak name for a fearsome predator.”

If she could distract him, perhaps he would forget her mistake. “What is it you call them?”

The warrior grinned. At the sight of it a chill sped down Marysa’s spine. “Sjǫdúlfr. In your tongue, I believe it means ‘sea wolf.’” He leaned down and bent his knees, where his wrists rested and his hands dangled idly between them. He was eye-to-eye with Marysa now, and her whole body rattled with the force of the frail boy’s trembling against her side. “They are the cleverest predator of the sea,” he said casually, but there was steel in his eyes. “Their teeth are daggers and their eyes are keen. If they want to overturn this boat and eat us whole,” his eyes drifted lazily to the boy next to her, “they will.”

“Have they ever attacked one of your boats?” Marysa asked. It took all her force of will to make her lips move.

“No,” the man drawled. His eyes flashed to her face and his lips spread into a slow smile. “But that does not mean they will not today.”

He stood with shocking speed on the wave-cradled boat. “If the prisoners will not heed my orders,” he crowed, “then they will not eat.”

Gasps and cries of dismay leapt up from around Marysa, but they were silenced again with the invader’s fierce glare.

“A man who denies the needs of those under his care is a worthless coward,” Marysa spat. It was one of the maxims her father had often told her, often muttered darkly when the miller’s wife had walked down the street with a bruise the size of her husband’s fist on her cheek, which was too often. The invader stalked closer, his eyes alight with fury, but Marysa could not stop. “You do not deserve to wear my father’s sword.”

Something wet and warm landed explosively on her cheek. She lifted her bound hands to wipe it away and realized with a shock that this man had spat on her.

“You are my captive,” he snarled, “and I owe you nothing.” He turned to face his men, one hand pointing accusingly at her as he announced, “This one eats nothing for a week.”

The blacksmith’s fair-haired wife clasped the hem of Marysa’s coat in her bound hands. “Oh, child, what have you done?”

[gwentoryfics]

Hot for Teacher, Part 6.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

Words | 14k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Mentions of abusive familial relationships. Explicit sexual content. Grinding. Penetrative sex. Swearing. And, as always, poor choices.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • More Coming Soon

Note | Added Wooseok to the official Pairing list because, let’s be real. He’s earned it. Thank you all for your never-ending patience! I love each and every one of you, and I’ll never get over how much love and support you all give me.

The morning brings with it a throbbing headache and a brief moment of surprise when you realize you’ve woken up in an apartment that is not your own. You remember quickly, however, that you ran into Kino last night and ended up crashing at his place, so you’re not alarmed.

You’re sweaty under the blanket that’s draped over you, and your shirt- er, the one you borrowed from Kino- sticks to your back. Vague bits of a dream mix with faded memories of last night, and you have to take a moment to sort everything out.

You went to the club with the seniors from jazz band. The boys were so supportive, and their performance was stellar, and… and they fucking signed you up to play. Right.

And then you ran into Professor Yang, who sent you home. Your whole body had throbbed with want for him, as per usual. But instead…

Wooseok.

You went to Wooseok’s place, and he fingered you on the kitchen counter.

What was that all about? How did you end up making out with him of all people? Not that he was a bad choice or anything, maybe just an unexpected one.

Desperately, you try to piece together what you feel about the whole situation. So you start with the things you know to be true about him:

Wooseok is tall and attractive, especially in a jean jacket.

Wooseok is an incredible kisser.

Wooseok knows how to use his fingers.

And then you think of things that you know to be true about you:

You’re feeling turned on again just by thinking about Wooseok.

You’re blessedly distracted by something that isn’t Professor Yang for once.

You don’t know what you feel towards Wooseok emotionally, but you maybe wouldn’t mind if something like last night happened again. Maybe.

You puff out your cheeks and let the air rush out in a deep sigh. Somehow, you had managed to make a messy semester even messier. Literally all you had to do was just get your shit together. Is that really such a difficult thing for you to accomplish?

Thoughts of Wooseok’s lips, tongue, and fingers swirl in your brain, and it’s weirdly relieving. It feels like there may be hope for you after all - your world doesn’t have to revolve around Professor Yang. You can move on. You can see other people and stop feeling so hung up on him. 

Maybe the rest of this semester won’t be so bad.

Grabbing your phone off of the coffee table, you check your notifications. Just a message from Nailah - oops, you forgot to let her know you weren’t coming home last night - and an email in your school account. You send off a quick reply to Nailah letting her know that you’re alive and that you’ll make it up to her, and then you check the email.

“_____,

Because you missed our meeting last week, I would like to reschedule. I have set aside time this Thursday afternoon to meet with you. Please let me know if this time does not work for you.

Thank you,

Professor Hongseok Yang”

The email is so formal, it makes you roll your eyes. You get it - your school email is probably monitored and he doesn’t want to at all hint at any kind of comfortability between the two of you, but it doesn’t have to sound like a fucking dissertation. 

You know what? Whatever. You’ll meet with him. It’s not a big deal, anyway, because you’re getting over him. 

Without the slightest hint of sass or sarcasm or whatever else, you genuinely write back: 

“Professor Yang,

Thursday afternoon works great for me. I’ll see you then.

Thank you!

_____”

Sending the message, you feel relieved. You’re turning over a new leaf. All that’s left for you to do is send a quick text to Wooseok letting him know that you won’t be able to tutor him this week, and once that is on its way to him you feel like you’re ready to start the day.

As you sit up on the couch, about to get up and go to the bathroom, you notice a Kino-sized lump on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Had he slept there all night?

You reach down, lifting the end of the blanket that covers his head. “Psst.”

He inhales deeply and shifts, eyes opening and squinting at the sunlight pouring in from the windows. Passively, you note that he’s actually really cute when he’s so sleepy.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you coo. You ruffle his hair, and he swats your hand away, emitting a noise that sounds like a cross between a chuckle and a groan. 

“Five more minutes.”

“No. I’m up so you should be up, too.” 

“Oh, is that how this works?” He peeks up at you, one eye still squinted shut. 

“Think so. I am the guest of honor here, so you should probably do what I say.”

“Guest of honor, my ass.”

“I’m not the one sleeping on the floor, so I think that puts me a step above you.”

“Please. I’m only down here because of you.”

You laugh. “Why? Were you worried I might have nightmares out here by myself?”

“No, I thought you’d be fine.” He sits up, stretching his arms and back, which are surely stiff from sleeping on the carpet all night. “You’re the one that asked me to stay with you.”

Your cheeks suddenly warm and your eyes widen. “...I did?”

He nods. “Yeah, I was going to head in because I thought you were asleep, but the second I stood up you asked me to stay. So I stayed.”

“Shit, Kino, I was drunk. You didn’t have to do that for me.” You frown. “You’re probably stiff as hell because of it.”

Kino just shrugs. “Well, now you know what I’m willing to do for you.”

“Would you be willing to make me some eggs?”

With a broad smile, Kino stands. “Anything for you, dear.” And then he pushes you back onto the couch, giggling like a maniac as he runs for the kitchen.

“Shithead!”

***

You’re grateful to find Changgu at the reception desk on Monday. You never actually sent the apology text that you drafted, and at this point it’s probably better to just do it in person - no matter how embarrassing it might be.

“Hey, Changgu.” You approach the desk, greeting him quietly. Shyly.

He looks up from the computer, eyebrows lifting in surprise before a smile settles on his lips. “Quite the weekend, huh?”

Oh, he has no idea. “You’re telling me.”

“How can I help you?”

“I wanted to apologize for everything. You guys could have all had a perfectly good time without me. I shouldn’t have lied to you about my age.”

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t do that too often. But I’m not going to lecture you.”

“Thanks.” You shift your weight awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. “Anyway, I really appreciate you inviting me to the jazz club, and getting me into the jazz band practice. I really enjoyed it. Both of those things.”

“It’s not a problem.” Changgu smiles warmly. What a gentle ray of sunshine he is. Then he grabs a stack of post-it notes and scribbles something down before handing it over. “I’m supposed to give you this.”

“Oh?” You look at the square of paper to find what looks to be a phone number.

“From Yanan. You don’t have to text him if you don’t want to. He can be a little forward sometimes, but he won’t be weird about it if he doesn’t hear from you. He just always has to try, you know?”

“Oh. Okay.” You slip it into your pocket, not exactly sure what you want to do with it. “Um, I should probably get going. Class and all. You know.”

As you turn to head out, he calls your name. “_____?”

“Yeah?” You look back at him.

If you’re not mistaken, Changgu’s cheeks are the most delicate rose color. “Don’t forget that you have my number, too.”

Is he flirting?

You smile reassuringly. If Bad Choices is becoming your middle name, you may as well embrace it. “I won’t forget.”

***

Thursday afternoon, you find yourself in Professor Yang's office, as he requested. You feel surprisingly level-headed, but you do notice just a hint of nervousness in the back of your mind. After all, you’re getting over him - so you’re not quite over him yet. He’s still beautiful and tempting and damn him for wearing such a delicious cologne all the time.  

Professor Yang sits across from you, behind his desk, as always. He’s looking through the two incorrectly-graded assignments you brought in, and he takes the time to correct them.

"I apologize. You were right about my miscalculations." He plugs the updated grades into his computer, and they hardly even affect your total grade. "I assure you that I'll take my time with your midterm and all other assignments from here on out."

"Thank you." You take back your labs and stuff them into your backpack. The midterm you took on Tuesday hadn't been terribly difficult and you're anticipating that you'll get a good grade anyway. But at least you know that he's aware of his mistakes so you won't have to confront him about it again (hopefully). 

You stand, ready to leave now that your meeting’s purpose is complete, but he beckons you. "I need to speak with you about something else."

You meet his caramel eyes, and he's just as impossible to read as always. Begrudgingly, you fall back into your chair. "What is it?"

Professor Yang's tongue swipes over his lower lip, but in such a way to indicate that he's thinking, considering where to start. Still, it catches your attention, and you probably look at his lips a hair longer than you should. Damn him.

"About what you said this weekend..." He searches your face. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Why the fuck did he have to say that, of all things?!

"Okay," you spit out, trying to act aloof even though you're fucking mortified that he would even bring that up. You're sure that your furiously warming cheeks give you away. "Good for you."

Professor Yang looks dissatisfied. "Can we perhaps have an adult conversation about this?"

"I don't have to have anything with you." You cross your arms over your chest, defaulting to your usual sass mode that always seems to emerge around him.

His eyes narrow and he scoffs. "See, this is exactly why I said you needed to leave Saturday night. Do you at all notice the childish fit that you're throwing right now?"

With a roll of your eyes (yes, you realize that's still childish), you uncross your arms and take a deep breath. "Fine. Let's talk. What do you want?"

"I want to know what's going on with you. Why did you tell me to say hi to my girlfriend?"

The thing is, you know that he knows exactly why you said it. He just wants you to admit it out loud. "I was heated." That's as much as you'll give him.

"Is that why you left our last appointment? Because you were heated?" Professor Yang recalls the way you stormed off after seeing that woman in his office last week.

"You seemed busy."

"I wasn't. She was leaving."

"Whatever. I didn't feel like talking."

"Did you think she was my girlfriend?"

"I don't care who she is."

"She's my sister."

Somehow, that genuinely catches you off guard. You shift in your seat, curious. "You have a sister?"

Professor Yang nods calmly. "Two. Both younger than me. The sister that you saw was in town for a conference, and she just stopped in to visit. I don't get to see her very often."

Shit. Well that certainly explains why she was so gorgeous, since they share the same gene pool. You try to remain neutral about it all. "I'm glad you got to see her, then."

"The way you've reacted to her is very concerning." His brow furrows. "I knew this would be an issue if we tried to do a class together."

"This has nothing to do with you and me, okay? This..." you gesture between him and yourself, "...is nothing. You can date whoever you want. I literally don't care."

"You want me to believe that after the way you acted?"

"You think I'm jealous or something?" You scoff, laughing, but it's awkward and forced. He notices, and gives you the look of oh-please. Defensively you say, "I'm not jealous!"

Pause. A lull in conversation. You’re both aware that you’re lying, and it’s obvious that you will never admit to it, no matter what he says. You hold each others' gaze, and you wonder which of you will be the first to look away. And then he speaks.

"I wanted to tell you something else. Something honest. But I need you to not read into it, okay? Just take it at face value. Promise me you can do that."

Faintly, you notice the way your heart skips. "Okay. I promise."

"You obviously shouldn't have been at the club over the weekend, but I just thought you should know that you're a really talented pianist. I was very impressed to hear you play like that."

It hadn't even occurred to you that he was in the audience while you were playing. But now that he's acknowledging it, you feel retroactively nervous about your performance. "Thank you... I appreciate that."

He nods once and then turns to his computer, closing out of the grading screen and generally avoiding your gaze.

"I want to say something honestly, too." You get up the nerve to speak, but you have to hold your hands together to keep them from trembling. How could he affect you so much?

His gaze is so intense, full of warning. "Please be careful with whatever it is you want to say."

He doesn't trust you. You can't blame him. You don't really trust him either. You're both tiptoeing around very dangerous territory even allowing yourselves to be in the same room. But this time you want to share with him something genuine, something that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever may have transpired between the two of you in the past.

"I'm truly enjoying your class. And it's not because you're the one teaching it, I swear. The material is really interesting to me and I'm really looking forward to building my dulcimer."

He smiles, and it's almost unguarded. Like he's relieved that you didn't say something else. "That means a lot to me. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I’m not kidding when I say I've been looking forward to this class since I heard about it last year. And I think you're a great teacher, everything else aside."

"Thank you."

"Can I actually ask you a question? About building instruments and stuff."

He sits back a little, as if he's finally able to relax around you, now that you're actually acting like a student speaking with their teacher. "Of course."

"When did you start building instruments? And did you build that guitar?" You gesture to the instrument resting in the corner of the room, with its beautifully stained wood and delicate detailing around the sound hole. 

“I did!” He lights up and stands, retrieving the guitar. “I built my first guitar when I was sixteen. Didn’t turn out that great because I was not very skilled. But after honing my craft for a few years, I saw more success in the instruments I built. This little lady came along just two years ago.”

“She’s beautiful,” you praise his handiwork. “Seriously. I’m impressed that it’s actually a handmade guitar.”

Professor Yang looks at you like you just sprouted a second head. “Of course it’s handmade. All of the best instruments are. You expect a machine to produce something that sounds like this?”

He strums the strings gently, an arpeggiated chord ringing sweetly through the room. The warm, buttery sound is enough to raise goosebumps on your arms.

“You’re right. No robot could ever make that.” 

“This guitar is my heart and soul.” He smooths his hand over its curves lovingly.

“Can you play that? ‘Heart and Soul’?”

“Why on Earth would I want to play that atrocity on my masterpiece of an instrument? Absolutely not.”

You laugh. “Fair enough. Play something else, then. I want to hear what she can do.”

With no further prompting needed, he dives into a beautiful melody, plucking the strings softly and tapping his nails against the strings to create a beat. The sound is gorgeous, and it’s incredibly special to see him get swept up in the music he’s creating. He’s entirely focused on the movement of his fingers, the swell of each phrase, the gentle groove he’s creating.

Your eyes close so you can hear the music more deeply. It seeps into you, and you can feel him in each note. He is part of the music, giving himself to the melody and turning it into something beyond notes on a page. He breathes life into it.

The song ends, and you wish it never had to. You could listen to him play forever. In the end, all you can manage is a soft wow.

“Nice, right?” Professor Yang grins widely, clearly proud of himself.

“Seriously incredible. And you’re so good at playing it, too.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

You sit up a little more, interested. “The way you were tapping the strings… it reminds me of those people who can, like, play the strings and drum on the guitar body at the same time. Can you do that?”

“I used to. Let’s see…”

He plays something a little more upbeat this time, tapping his fingers, knuckles, and the heel of his palm against the guitar’s body as he strums. It’s not perfect and eventually he stumbles, but it’s still incredibly impressive.

With a short laugh, he gives up. “Like I said, I used to. It has been a while.”

“That’s probably the coolest thing in the world,” you laugh along with him. “I don’t know how you have enough coordination to do that.”

“It’s a skill. Like anything else, you just have to take the time to practice and learn.” Professor Yang drums his fingers against the wood softly. “Clearly I’m a little out of practice.”

“I mean, if you don’t have the time to grade my labs properly, I can’t imagine you have time to sit around drumming on your guitar.”

He cocks his head and purses his lips. “You try teaching a class at a university and we’ll see how easy it is for you to keep up with everything.”

“Hey, I’m not doubting the incredible stress you must be under.” You tease. 

It hits you then how incredibly comfortable you feel with him, how easy it is to be with him unguarded. It’s really… nice.

There’s a knock at the door, then, and Professor Yang glances at the clock on his desk. “Ah. Come in!”

The door opens to reveal another student - a boy from your class. “Hi, Professor.” He notices you still sitting in the office. “Am I too early for our meeting?”

Professor Yang reassures him, “Right on time, actually.”

You nod. “I was just getting ready to leave.” Grabbing your bag, you stand and address Professor Yang. “Thank you for meeting with me today. Really.”

“Not a problem. Thank you for making the time to stop in. I’m glad we got everything sorted out.” He nods once to you. “Have a good weekend and I’ll see you in class.”

“You, too.” 

The two of you exchange a smile, and it feels delightfully innocent. It feels like it means something different, like an agreement to be okay with each other from now on. An agreement to not be at each others’ throats this semester. It gives you hope that you’ve finally broken through into a more peaceful part of your relationship as student and teacher.

This semester is going to be just fine.

***

“_____.”

Your eyes lift from the keyboard to find that the tallest human you know somehow snuck into the R&B Ensemble rehearsal without you noticing. You forgot that he was allowed to rejoin the group this week. “Oh. Hi.”

“...hi.” Wooseok tries to smile, but it’s small and awkward and he looks kind of concerned.

You haven’t spoken to him at all during the week or so that has passed since you made out with him. The only communication that happened was the text that you sent to let him know you had to cancel tutoring. He hadn’t responded, and now that you think about it, you probably should have reached out to him again at some point.

A smile pulls across your lips, although you’re sure it seems just as ingenuine as his. But if it’s ingenuine, it’s only because you’re actually wildly nervous about being in front of him again. From your seat on the piano bench, he towers over you, tall and handsome and… and he’s wearing that fucking jean jacket. It’s devastating.

The silence between the two of you stretches on for far too long, and he eventually gives up on having a conversation as he retreats to the drumset. 

Yikes. You didn’t mean for that to get so weird.

Rehearsal goes much more smoothly now that Wooseok is back, and he drums like he never missed a single practice. Every rhythm and fill is spot on. The whole ensemble falls into a groove that’s just a little bit deeper, a little bit smoother than before. And you can tell that your instructor, Typhanie, is jazzed about it.

After rehearsal, Kino darts over to the keyboard. “_____, your solo was killer tonight!”

“You know I’d say the same to you, but I compliment you every week and eventually you’re going to get a big head about it.”

He pouts. “Nonsense. Compliment me.”

You rise to your feet and pat his head twice. “Well done.”

Kino rolls his eyes, but his smile is bright. He nods his head in the direction of the door, tugging on your sleeve absentmindedly. “Come on, let’s go. I want to ask you something.”

You grab your things and follow him. “Alright. Go on.”

“So, um, two-fold question.” He pushes the door open, and ushers you out of the room. “First, are you free this weekend? Specifically Saturday night?”

“I think so. Are we gonna do something?”

“Yeah, I just wanted-”

“_____! Hold up!” Wooseok’s voice precedes him down the hall as he comes thundering after you. Both you and Kino pause as he approaches. “Sorry, can I talk to you? Please?”

You look over at Kino, who wears a slight frown. As much as you don’t want to do this to Kino, you know you really should talk with Wooseok. “Can I catch up with you later?” 

Kino cocks his head, like he’s surprised you would choose Wooseok over him. But you’re not choosing Wooseok over him, you just… you just have to do this. Kino throws on a half-hearted smile and says, “Sure. Later.”

Wooseok pulls you aside as Kino departs, heading down a different hallway to get you away from the other students leaving rehearsal. You don’t protest, but you tell yourself that you will if he tries anything funny.  

“What is it?” you ask, knowing full well what this conversation is going to be.

“I was kind of hoping you could tell me.” Wooseok expression is unsettled. “I’ve been dying to talk to you, but I thought you might need space, since you just kind of stormed off and then immediately canceled tutoring.”

Oh shit. You didn’t mean for it to come off that way. You canceled because of Professor Yang, not because things were weird between you and Wooseok. Nevertheless, you had run out of his apartment without any kind of explanation, and that is entirely your fault. “I’m sorry I left like that. And I swear, I didn’t cancel tutoring because of… everything. Something else came up. That’s all.”

The gentle giant takes a deep breath, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. We were both a little drunk and I shouldn’t have taken it so far. If you don’t ever want to be around me again, I understand. But I just wanted to talk to you about it and let you know that I’m sorry. Honestly.”

Your chest warms. It’s so sweet that he’s worried about you, but it’s also unnecessary. There’s nothing for him to be worried about. “It’s okay. Really. You have nothing to feel bad about. I… I wanted it. And I liked it.” You have to look away from him as you admit it.

It feels like a weight is lifted between you. “I did, too. You’re a good kisser.” He chuckles softly, his hands shyly slipping into his pockets.

“Not so bad yourself,” you chime, still avoiding his gaze. “Um, so even though I enjoyed it, I just felt kind of confused after? I’m…” Go on. You can say it. “I’m getting over someone. So I didn’t know what to feel about all of it. Other than fucking mortified because of your roommate.”

“Don’t worry about him. I promise he doesn’t care.”

Finally, you look up at him. He really is quite handsome, and you fully understand why your drunk self had enjoyed him so much. 

“But I totally understand. I didn’t assume that it meant anything, but thanks for letting me know. Oh, by the way…” Wooseok drops his backpack from his shoulder and unzips one of the small side pockets. “I brought something for you.”

You accept the square of tissue, confused about what he could possibly be giving you - until you unwrap it. He had nicely folded your abandoned underwear to return to you, which is simultaneously embarrassing and sweet.

“Oh my God,” you mumble as you recognize the underwear, a stupid little chuckle leaving you. “I… um, thank you.”

“I’ve gotta be honest, I thought about keeping them.”

“W-what?”

Wooseok shrugs nonchalantly, a goofy grin on his face. “I mean, it’s kind of hot to have a girl’s panties. And they’re cute.”

“You really have no filter.” You stuff the panties into your own backpack, flustered.

“Just wanted to see your reaction,” he laughs. “Worth it.” 

“Glad you thought so. Can we head out now?”

“Mm.” He nods once, and you both head for the stairs. “So, just to make sure we’re both on the same page, I still want to be your friend and I don’t expect anything else from you.”

“Agreed.” You smile, grateful that he’s so considerate about all of this. But against your better judgment, your words don’t stop there. “But if it happens again…”

Wooseok freezes a few stairs ahead of you, turning to face you exactly at eye level. He peers at you curiously. “If it happens again...?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. You can’t turn back now, so you may as well embrace it. “Then it happens. But I’m not just a booty call, so don’t even think about treating me that way.”

“So…” He moves up a step towards you, regaining a few inches of height. His voice is low as he asks,  “...what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying… if it feels right and we’re in the moment, then it is what it is.” You know that you’re still being incredibly vague, but you just can’t bring yourself to say I’m down to fuck if you are. “But no catching feelings because I’m still trying to sort mine out.”

“Right, with the guy you’re getting over and everything.” Wooseok leans in a little, the smallest smirk on his lips. “So I shouldn’t call you up out of the blue. But if we’re both here, and we’re both in the moment…”

He leans in further, and you realize he’s going in for a kiss the second he grabs your hand. But you’re all too aware of the fact that you’re standing on the main staircase of the music building, and anyone could walk past you at any time.

You shake off his hand and put your hand on his chest, holding him back. “Not here, idiot. Someone might see!”

He grins mischievously and shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

After that, Wooseok walks you all the way to your dorm, and he’s a total gentleman. He stands with you in front of your building for a moment, his hands buried in his pockets. 

“Just so you know, you’re welcome to come over to my place whenever,” he offers. “Even if you just want to hang out. We could play games or something. We’re friends, after all.”

“That we are. Thanks.” You hold your fist out for him to bump. “See you at tutoring on Thursday, if not before then?”

“Yeah.” He bumps your fist with his own and smiles sweetly. “Catch you later.”

As he walks off, you’re actually really pleased with the way things turned out. Although you didn’t expect to actually bring up the whole maybe-we-could-do-this-again thing, it excites you that he’s at least open to the idea. Who says you can’t have a fling?

You head upstairs and open the door to your room, and you remember that Kino was in the middle of asking you something when he left - and he didn’t seem too pleased by the interruption. So… maybe you should call him to see what’s going on. You do feel kind of bad that he had to leave on his own.

You’re not sure why your impulse is to call and not text, but he answers the phone before you can really question it too much. “Hey, _____.” 

“Hey, Kino. Did you make it home?”

“Yeah.” 

“Go to your window and look up at my building.”

“...Okay…”

You flicker your bedroom light on and off to catch his attention. “Do you see my room? With the flashing light.”

A quiet chuckle comes across the line. “Yeah, I see it.”

“Now show me where you are.”

A short moment later, you notice one of the windows on the building across the street repeatedly light up and go dark. “Found you!”

“What’s this all about?”

You watch as his silhouette reappears in the window. “You didn’t get to ask me your question. I wanted to know what it was.”

“Oh.” He drags his hand through his hair. “So, I haven’t told you yet, but a piece that I choreographed is going to be performed at the Dance Department Showcase.”

“What? Kino, that’s amazing!” It’s not easy to get work presented at a department-wide showcase, so you know that it’s a huge accomplishment for him. “I’m so proud of you. Oh my gosh, that’s so cool.”

“Thank you! Thank you.” Kino laughs, pleased at your reaction. “So… the showcase is this Saturday night and I’m freaking out. I’m not performing, but I’m still incredibly nervous because it’s like… this project, this baby of mine… it’s being put on display and it’s going to be critically watched by all of my peers and professors. It’s just such a big deal.”

“Can I come?” The question eagerly bursts out of you. You would absolutely love to see what he’s capable of choreographing. If it’s anything like his dancing and singing, you know it’ll be awesome. But then you realize that he’s already freaking out about the people in the audience… maybe you shouldn’t add to that stress. “Actually, would that make it worse? I don’t want to stress you out more by being there.”

“No, no, not at all. That’s actually why I brought it up. I want you to come with me.”

You lean against your window, playing with the hem of your shirt. “I would be honored to go with you.”

He exhales deeply. “I think I’m going to feel much better with you there. Thank you.”

“Of course! What are friends for?”

“Exactly.” Kino’s hand comes to rest on the glass, like he’s reaching out to you. “I’ll see you Saturday, then. Well, and probably before then, too.”

You touch your window, too. “Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight, _____.”

“Night, Kino.”

***

Your class with Professor Yang has officially moved over to the woodshop, now that your midterms are done. He had gone over standard dress code the week before (no loose, drapey clothing or open-toed shoes), but you hadn’t realized that he would be dressed differently as well.

Up until this point, you’ve only seen him in dress slacks and button-downs. But now that he’s teaching a woodworking class, he’s dressed way more casually than you expected. It makes sense that he would dress down, but it still surprises you to see him in jeans and a fitted t-shirt. His hair is swooped up and back, exposing his forehead and keeping his hair out of his eyes. 

It would be great if you could go a day without drooling over him. Seriously.

Professor Yang goes over the basics of the woodshop with everyone, explaining some of the general tools you’ll all use regardless of instrument. You’ve never used any sort of woodworking tools before, and it makes you a little nervous to think that you’ll be responsible for keeping your fingers intact while sawing away at the body of your dulcimer, but you know he’s there to help if you’re struggling (or injured).  

If nothing else, you and Shinhye can struggle together.

Beside you, Shinhye observes the slab of wood that is to be the neck of her cigar-box banjo. Her calculations are all finished and she knows exactly how far apart to mark each fret along the neck, but she hesitates. “I don’t know man, I’m going to fuck this up for sure.”

“Look, all you have to do is mark it with pencil, and then Professor Yang will come to check your work. Just don’t make any cuts into the wood without his approval and you’ll be fine.” You start marking up the wood that you’ve been given, confident in your math.

As you measure and make your marks, your ears tune in to the music Professor Yang plays throughout the workshop. He’s playing an old rock station, to be expected, and you perk up when a certain Aerosmith song comes on.

A smile grows on your face as Steven Tyler starts singing, and you remember when you sang “Dream On” in Professor Yang’s office.

You glance up to the front of the room to find Professor Yang looking right at you with a stupid grin on his dumb little face.

Oh, he remembers, too.

You struggle to hide your laughter as he breaks into a huge smile. What a loon you are.

“What are you giggling about?” Shinhye questions, still concentrated way too hard on her little pencil marks.

You’re about to respond with a simple nothing, but then she tucks her short hair behind her ear, revealing a purplish mark just under her jaw. “Oh my God, Shinhye, is that a hickey?”

She looks up at you like a deer in headlights, quickly ruffling her hair out with her fingers. “You didn’t see that.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course I fucking saw that.” With a shit-eating grin, you lean in close. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hooking up with someone? I need to know these things!”

“It’s not important! I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Dude. Fine. I’ll give you a pass since we’re in class right now but you need to dish later.” Shinhye looks disgruntled at your demand, and you try to make her feel better about the whole situation. “Look, I’m proud of you. I never thought this day would come and I just want to know what happened! This is kind of a big deal.”

“It’s really not.” She rolls her eyes.

A third voice joins the conversation. “How are we doing over here?” Professor Yang stands next to Shinhye, looking over her work.

“Oh, perfect timing. I think I’m just about done. Can you check my marks?” Shinhye hands over her wood, seemingly grateful for the change of topic.

He takes a moment to check her math, but not her measurements. “Your math is good, so as long as you measured according to your numbers you’ll be good to go.”

You don’t even have to ask - he immediately picks up your scrap paper to check your math, too. It astounds you that he doesn’t feel the need to pick up a calculator, as if he could do all of the calculations in his head.

“Your math looks good, too.” He sets your paper down. “Go ahead and put your frets in.”

You cock your head, still surprised that he could be so good at math. “You can do all that math without a calculator?”

“I do have a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree in Mathematics, so believe it or not, I don’t really need a calculator.” His voice is touched with sass, as if to say I’m your teacher and I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you.

But you can’t help the question. This man has not one but two math degrees, and he still fucked up your grades? The probability of that being an accident is practically zero - as you’re sure Mr. Math Wiz would agree.

So it must have been intentional. No matter how much he denies it.

It doesn’t seem like he was doing it to punish you, though. It doesn’t seem to have any purpose besides getting your attention.

Getting you into his office.

Getting you one-on-one.

And he succeeded - you sat in his office with him for a solid half hour as he re-graded your papers and chatted. He hadn’t tried to make a move or anything, so why did he want that alone time with you?

Could it be as innocent as just wanting to spend time together?

It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself. I’m getting over him. He doesn’t want anything from me, and I don’t want anything from him. The past is the past and I’m moving on.

You avoid his gaze for the rest of class.

***

Wooseok sits next to you in the practice room, working diligently on the exercises you’ve given him regarding figured bass. Overall, not at all an important concept for him as a drummer, but it’s definitely going to be on his final and he needs to know it for the sake of his grade.

You don’t know if it’s just because the nature of your relationship has changed, but you’ve felt so distracted through the whole session by how cute he looks. His hair is ruffled and he’s not wearing anything different than what he usually wears, but he just looks so damn attractive.

You know you shouldn’t say anything. You should let him work like the good little tutee he is. But since when do you pay attention to what you should and should not do?

“I think tutoring you is going to become increasingly more difficult.”

He pauses, his pencil still in his hand as he meets your gaze. “Why’s that? Because of the material? I feel like I’m actually doing pretty well.”

“No, idiot. Because, well…” Jesus, you never really know what to say in these situations. “Things are different between us now, you know?”

“It’s not that different.”

You can tell by the face he’s making that he’s teasing you. “It is! Don’t make me feel stupid.”

“You’re the one calling me an idiot!”

“It’s a term of endearment.”

“How sweet.” Wooseok shifts in his seat, turning towards you and placing his arm across the back of your chair. “So you’re flirting with me?”

“That may or may not be true.”

His fingers brush gently over your shoulder as he silently watches you, letting the air between you thicken with the thought that it would be so easy to close the gap.

Really, there’s nothing stopping you anyway.

“Wooseok… Have you done something like this before?” You ask before you convince yourself to cross the threshold. “Being friends with benefits and all of that?”

“No, actually.” Wooseok’s fingers reach your collar bone, delicately tracing the peaks and valleys. “I don’t have much experience with girls. I had a girlfriend in high school, but that’s it.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Dating’s not my priority.”

“Is this something you want, though?”

“Well yeah. I probably said it when I was drunk, but you’re really cool and you’re hot, so of course I’m down. This is totally different from dating.” He tilts his head minutely. “Have you done this before?”

Almost instantly, an image of Professor Yang flashes in your mind. “Not technically a friends with benefits situation, but I have hooked up before.”

“How’d it go? Were you okay with keeping it casual?”

Big fat fucking no, you were not okay with keeping it casual. Well, maybe you would have been if he hadn’t turned out to be your teacher. Things might have been so different. But the fact of the matter is that you’ve been an absolute wreck for the last two months because of your failure to keep it casual.

You’re fully aware of the fact that you should be honest about your hookup history. You should tell Wooseok that you most definitely caught feelings the last time you hooked up. It’s your duty to stop this trainwreck before it happens.

But… that means that you wouldn’t be able to hookup with Wooseok. And you really want to hookup with Wooseok right now.

“Yeah, it was totally fine,” you lie through your teeth. “No problems at all.”

“Cool.” He reaches out to cup your face. “Let’s stop talking about it then.”

As if they have always belonged together, your lips meet his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, and his hand is warm on your cheek. It feels so, so good to give in to your urges, to do what you want instead of overthinking. A friends-with-benefits situation is exactly what you need.

You don’t stay in your chair much longer as you continue to kiss. His lap is a much more appealing seat. Without pulling away from his lips, you get up and straddle him, your hands sliding behind his neck. 

Wooseok’s teeth bite down on your lip and his large hands are quick to venture into less innocent territory. His fingers slip down your sides and into the back pockets of your jeans, cupping your ass and giving a gentle squeeze. You roll your hips to show him that you’re pleased, and he lets out the quietest groan.

“Be careful moving your hips like that,” he warns against your lips, “or you’re signing yourself up for a whole lot of trouble.”

You smirk and roll your hips again as you say, “Maybe I want trouble.”

He responds by claiming your lips, his tongue diving deep into the cavern of your mouth as his fingers dig hard into your ass cheeks. 

You feel so alive. And so blissful - especially as you feel him start to harden through his jeans. The extra friction provided by rubbing against his thickness is absolutely delicious, and you shamelessly grind against him.

It’s clear that Wooseok is enjoying himself, too. He kisses you deeply as you grind, and his hand sneaks under your shirt, pushing your bra out of the way so that he can pinch and rub your nipple. 

You moan for him, careful to stay quiet - the sound proofing in the practice rooms isn’t perfect, after all. But you sigh and groan to let him know that you feel amazing and you love everything he’s doing to you. You would be totally content to just stay like this for the rest of your session, and it doesn’t seem like Wooseok would mind.

Unfortunately, though, you know this can’t last forever - you have to leave soon for your piano lesson. But he’s just such a good kisser…

You’re not sure what causes it, but suddenly the mood changes. His hurried kisses and touches melt into something much softer. Wooseok’s hand migrates to the small of your back, pulling you in close and embracing you as he kisses you. 

It’s mind-numbingly sweet, and you hold him tight, too.

With one last kiss, you part, but you rest your forehead on his as you catch your breath and try to process how he could be such a phenomenal kisser.

“What are you doing after this?” Wooseok asks, his voice low - and you know exactly why he’s asking.

“Piano lesson,” you huff quietly.

“Skip it.” Kiss. “Come back to my place.”

“Ugh, I wish. But I can’t. My lessons are important.” Your fingers glide through his soft hair, your gaze connecting with his sweet eyes. “What about tonight?”

Wooseok shakes his head as his fingers drum a rhythm against your spine. “Minho’s having some guys over. Tomorrow?”

“Girl’s night with my roommate.” You sigh. Who knew it would be so difficult to find time to hook up?

“I’m pretty sure Minho said he was going out of town this weekend, so we’d definitely have the place to ourselves.”

That sounds like a blessedly perfect scenario. “I have a thing with Kino on Saturday, but I could come over later that night?”

“Stellar. I’ll make sure Minho is out of the apartment.” Wooseok presses another kiss to your lips before helping you stand up. “You should probably get going though, since you have your lesson. Right?”

You glance at the clock on the wall and realize you have exactly thirty seconds to get downstairs. “Shit. Yeah, I have to run.”

Wooseok helps you gather your things. “I’ll see you Saturday night then?”

You hoist your backpack onto your shoulder and run a finger down Wooseok’s torso. “You bet.”

***

“Remind me why we’re doing this,” you grumble as you follow Nailah and Shinhye through the gym locker room on Saturday morning. Being physically active has never been your favorite thing, yet Nailah has managed to drag you along.

“Cute boy. You love cute boys, don’t you?” Nailah turns, tucking you under her arm and leading you over to the row of lockers. “This is all for you, baby.”

“But whyyyyy…”

“_____, exercising is good for you.” Shinhye tries to boost your morale as you each claim a locker, tossing your gym bags but keeping your water bottles in hand. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.”

“Since when have you become such a gym rat? Little Miss I-Live-On-The-Couch.” You tease her. She never seems to be interested in working out, but she looks like a total natural in her mid-calf leggings and moisture-wicking tank top.

She shrugs, touching the outer rim of her glasses to push them further up her nose. “I don’t know, I just go when Nailah invites me. And I think it’s actually pretty fun.”

“Yeah, Shinhye’s a great gym partner. She doesn’t complain.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring Nailah. “So have you seen this cute guy, then? Is it worth the effort?”

Shinhye shakes her head. “We’ve never seen him when I come along.”

“Okay, hold on.” You close your locker, realizing that this mystery cutie hasn’t been spotted in quite some time. “Are you telling me that it has probably been, like, a month and a half since you last saw him? Does he even go to this gym anymore?”

Nailah sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t know, _____. But we’re here now, so we may as well sweat a little.” She lifts her shirt up over her head, so she’s just in her spandex shorts and a sports bra. The shirt gets tossed into her locker and she holds out her hand to you. “Give me your shirt.”

“What?”

“Do it. We’re gonna go out there looking hot so you can seduce cute guy.”

“He’s probably not even out there!”

“Come on. It’s not even a big deal.” She gestures for you to hand her your shirt, and you begrudgingly do as she asks. 

“What about you, Shinhye?” You ask as your shirt disappears into Nailah’s locker.

Her face reddens. “Isn’t it weird to just wear a bra?”

“Not at all,” Nailah reassures her, closing her locker and patting Shinhye on the head as she walks away. “But don’t worry, my little Shinhye doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

You notice Shinhye’s eyes grow wide and her blush deepen, and look at her quizzically. What the hell is that reaction all about? She just avoids your gaze and tails after Nailah.

As you follow them into the equipment room, you try not to feel embarrassed about your lack of shirt. It’s not that unusual for a girl to work out in just her bra and shorts, but you don’t feel particularly confident since you are bound to make a fool out of yourself on the machines, anyway.

The three of you head for the stationary bikes on the opposite side of the room, scoping out all of the other gym-goers along the way. When you reach the bikes, Nailah turns on her heel and pulls you and Shinhye in close.

“Don’t make it obvious, but he’s here. He’s at the bench press.”

What are the odds that he would actually be here today? You take a swig from your water bottle before setting it next to one of the bikes and casually turning around to try to spot him.

Shinhye finds him first. “Oh my God. Him?” She bursts into laughter. “Nailah, you don’t know who that is, do you?”

“Should I?”

“He teaches at our school! _____ and I are both in his class!”

“What?!” You and Nailah respond simultaneously, both for different reasons. Is it really him?

Your eyes scan over the weight machines, and just as you spot the row of bench presses, he sits up and wipes the sweat from his brow with a hand towel.

Fucking Professor Yang is sitting halfway across the room, biceps bulging, a delicious V of sweat forming on the chest of his muscle shirt. 

God, you wish you could just melt into a puddle and disappear from this world.

“No way.” Nailah chuckles. “He’s a Professor? Oh, this is gold.”

Shinhye starts giggling, too. “Yeah, and _____ totally has a crush on him. You should have seen them in class this week.”

“Well just look at her now.”

You finally snap out of your trance. “I do not!”

“No shame, girl.” Nailah smirks as she settles onto a bike. “We’ve all had an innocent crush on a teacher before.”

Oh, if only she knew how not innocent this was.

“Yeah, no shame.” Shinhye chimes, climbing onto the bike next to Nailah.

“Whatever. Shouldn’t we stretch first?” You quickly change the subject. You’re going to spend the rest of this hour pretending like the world’s most handsome professor isn’t over there keeping up his gorgeous physique with which you are unfortunately quite familiar. 

“It’s bad to stretch cold, so we do an easy five-minute ride just to get things warmed up a bit.” Nailah states.

“Alright, then.” 

So you bike, stretch, and tackle a few machines - and you’re incredibly aware of the fact that Nailah’s routine is strategically getting you closer and closer to wherever Professor Yang is stationed. 

You trail along behind her from machine to machine, and next thing you know you’re headed straight for him.

As the three of you approach, you hope and pray that he doesn’t notice you. And when you look over, you’re blessed. He grabs the bottom of his shirt and lifts it to wipe his face, but you’re too distracted by his abs to be grateful for his blocked view of you.

Professor Yang is absolutely chiseled under his muscle shirt, and you shouldn’t even be surprised. You’ve seen him shirtless before, you’ve felt the ripples of his muscles, but you’re still taken off guard by the body that hides beneath his clothes.

The glimpse of his abs is so distracting that you actually forget how you’re supposed to act around him. He drops his shirt and looks up just as you’re passing him, and you unintentionally flash him a coy smile. When his eyes widen as he recognizes you, you realize that you do not want to try to look cute right now. 

Well, you want to, but you shouldn’t.

Somehow that doesn’t stop you.

Professor Yang’s eyes travel down your body, taking in your shirtless state. But you don’t feel shy or nervous - you feel weirdly confident, and you walk with a little extra sass in the swing of your hips. You hope with all of your might that he’s as flustered by the sight of you as you always are by him. 

If your appearance gets to him at all, he certainly doesn’t make it known. Without any hint of what he might be feeling, he gets up and moves to a different machine farther down the row, and he doesn’t look back at you again.

Thankfully, it seems that Nailah and Shinhye did not notice anything that just happened, but you feel suddenly embarrassed about strutting past him the way you did. You need to step out for a second and collect yourself.

“I’m going to grab some more water.” You hold up your mostly empty water bottle for the two girls to see and tear off before either one of them can offer to come along.

That was so dumb. Why did you react that way when he saw you? You know better. You should be avoiding him at all costs, because you’re getting over him. You’ve got Wooseok to keep you entertained now, so you can finally let go of Professor Yang.

He just looked so good… and you want the confidence boost of knowing he thinks you look good, too.

But the thing is, though, you know that he thinks you look good. He’s made it kind of obvious throughout the semester that he’s still attracted to you, so you’re positive that he must have felt something when he saw you in your tight leggings and sports bra. He’s just really good at masking it.

You fill up your bottle and take a sip from it as you turn around, and you accidentally bump into a warm, solid body that immediately fills you with dread.

“_____.”

You’re surprised by the face you see when you look up - this is not the human you were expecting. “Yuto?”

He has a black bandana rolled up and tied across his forehead, and honestly it’s a look. Yuto hardly gives you so much as a smile before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder, gently pushing you aside so he can access the water fountain.

“I didn’t know you worked out here.”

He stands upright after taking a leisurely drink, looking you up and down. “I didn’t know you worked out. Wouldn’t have guessed it.”

“Don’t be rude, asshole.” You huff, stalking off towards the weight room. You don’t need to deal with him if he’s going to be a jerk.

“Hey, wait.” Yuto catches up to you, matching your stride. “I just meant that I haven’t seen you here before.”

“Yeah. Roommate dragged me along.”

“Nailah, right?” He points off to the left, and your eyes follow to that part of the room. Nailah’s hands rest on Shinhye’s hips, guiding your friend into the correct form for squats. You frown, worried about what that could mean.

If she’s starting to crush on Shinhye, she really needs to cut it out before she gets herself hurt. Shinhye’s straight - she’s not going to reciprocate any of Nailah’s feelings. And really, Nailah needs to make sure she’s not making Shinhye uncomfortable by being too forward with her flirting.

“That’s her.” You can’t help your frown as you beeline for them. 

“Wait, wait.” Yuto grabs your arm. “I need to talk to you.”

Surprised, you pause. “What about?”

“Wooseok.”

Your frown deepens. Does he know about your agreement? “What about Wooseok?”

“Be careful with him. He’s a kid.”

“We’re the same age...? What are you getting at?”

“He’s naive, okay?” Yuto looks frustrated that you don’t understand what he’s trying to say. “Just try not to hurt him. He’s a lot more delicate than he seems. He told me about you two, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s none of your business what we decide to do.” You scoff. “But yeah, okay, I’m the Big Bad Meanie here so I’ll be ‘gentle’ or whatever.”

Yuto’s voice noticeably softens when he realizes you’re upset. “_____…”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you.” You brush off his hand. “Have a good workout.”

You stomp back over to your friends, and they both watch you quizzically as you approach. 

“What was that all about?” Nailah asks.

“It’s nothing.” Your first instinct is to just dismiss all of it, but these are two of your best friends. They deserve to know at least a little bit of the boy drama in your life - but you don’t want to spill the tea in the middle of the gym. “I’ll fill you in later.”

Shinhye chimes in, “Professor Yang left while you were gone. We thought you might run into him out there.”

“No, I didn’t see him. Just Yuto.”

“Who’s Yuto?” She asks. “The guy you were just talking to?”

Nailah responds for you, nodding. “He’s our neighbor, right across the hall.”

“Oh.” Shinhye chews timidly on the inside of her cheek. “He’s kind of cute, too.”

“Shinhye! I didn’t know you liked dark, brooding boys.” Nailah reaches out to smooth Shinhye’s hair, and Shinhye blushes.

“Apparently you really don’t know her type, Nailah.” There’s a slight edge to your voice as you say it. It’s just so weird to see Nailah being so forward with Shinhye, and you feel the need to stop it. Shinhye isn’t particularly vocal, so she probably won’t say anything if she’s feeling uncomfortable.

Seems like you’ll have to have a chat with Nailah later.

***

Kino meets you in your dorm’s lobby at exactly 6:15pm. Doors open for the dance department showcase in fifteen minutes, and you can sense the energy bubbling out of him when he arrives.

“Hi.” He bounces slightly, standing still for a moment before pulling you into a hug.

“Hi,” you echo, a small smile spreading across your lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. Oh my God, I’m nervous. But let’s not talk about that because I’ll literally die before the show.”

“My CPR skills aren’t exactly stellar, so I guess we should probably do what we can to keep you alive before that becomes necessary.”

“Good call.” He places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the building and into the brisk night air. “You look really nice, by the way.”

“Thank you!” You look down at yourself, taking a second to button up your jacket over the burgundy dress and black tights you’ve chosen for the evening. Your heels click along the sidewalk as you walk, and then you realize how Kino is dressed; his burgundy pants didn’t immediately draw your attention, but you have to laugh at the coincidence now that you’ve noticed. “Oh my God, are we actually matching?”

Kino nods, laughing. “Yeah, we are.”

So this is what it feels like to wear a couple’s outfit... Obviously you’re not a couple, but it’s still kind of cute that you’ve got similar tastes in clothes.

Kino is oddly quiet as you make your way towards the theater, and you know it’s just because of his nerves. You speak up to try to distract him. “Is your family coming tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t invite them.”

“Oh.” That surprises you. “Why not? This is a big deal. I’m sure they’d love to be here.”

“I don’t really want to talk about that right now.” Kino frowns slightly, clearly bothered by the topic.

Has something happened? He never really talks about his family, so you don’t know what his relationship with them is like. 

Wait - he has talked about them before. You remember the first night you talked to him after R&B Ensemble practice, when you both bonded over your unsupportive parents. How could you be careless enough to forget something like that? Are you really that distracted by your own life?

“I’m sorry, Kino. I shouldn’t have brought that up.” You link your arm with his. “I’m here to support you no matter what.”

“Thanks, _____.” He smiles slightly. “And no worries. It’s fine.”

To keep the mood light, you chat with him about your excursion to the gym this morning, leaving out the parts about Professor Yang, of course. Mostly, you just complain about how you have to use the baby weights because everything else is too heavy.

Thankfully you can keep him chuckling until you’re seated in the theater and the lights go down, signaling the start of the show. That’s when the terror sets in - Kino takes a deep, nervous breath, and his leg bounces wildly as the first performers step on stage. His piece isn’t until a little later on in the show, but you know he’s going to feel anxious until then.

Normally it doesn’t bother you when someone else bounces their leg, but his movement shakes your chair and you don’t want to sit through the whole show like that. Without even thinking about it, you place your hand on his thigh, squeezing gently to grab his attention. His movement stalls and he stares at you wide-eyed.

You lean in so he can hear you whisper over the music. “It’s gonna be great, okay? Everyone’s going to love your piece.”

Kino’s gaze flits between your eyes, and it occurs to you just how close your faces are. Then his hand covers yours, and he smiles. “I was right to bring you along.”

His attention returns to the stage and he seems much calmer now, but you struggle to focus on the dancers. Your whole consciousness is alert to the fact that his hand is so warm and secure around yours, and for some reason that makes your heart beat just a little bit faster.

All rational thought goes out the window. When the first performance ends, you don’t want to let his hand go. Kino notices the way you cling to his hand when he tries to let go to clap, and he gives you a funny look - not one of judgment, but one of curiosity.

You’re immediately embarrassed, so you let go and hurriedly clap before the applause ends. 

It’s fine. You’re just friends. Friends can hold hands. It’s seriously not a big deal - worst case scenario, Kino’s just going to tease you a little bit after the showcase. You do your best to shake it off.

But then the applause ends, and Kino places his hand on your lap, palm up. It’s an invitation, and his smile makes it so that you cannot refuse. You interlace your fingers with his, your heart beating happily in your chest.

You don’t know what it means, or if it even means anything. But you’ll sort it out later.

That becomes your routine, your hands letting go only to clap between pieces and then quickly returning to each other. It feels foreign yet completely comfortable, exciting yet confusing. 

And then he squeezes your hand tightly and leans over, whispering in your ear, “This one is mine.”

For just a brief second you think he’s talking about your hand, but then you realize that he means his piece is next. Your cheeks flush because of the way you misunderstood him, but you pretend that didn’t just happen and whisper back, “I can’t wait.”

A delicate piano melody guides the two male dancers on stage, but it isn’t until the lyrics kick in that you realize just how mournful the performance is going to be.

“Don’t know where I am with you Forgetting time and space with you Oh I wish we had a common view You see my red as blue I don’t belong in your universe For better or for worse…”

The dancers move fluidly across the stage, embodying the story of two people - maybe lovers, maybe friends - who want to be together despite the invisible force that’s keeping them apart.

“I’m the same but I’m bolder You get home, but I’m on my way out now Not the same destinations I will stay when you get off the train…”

No, they don’t want to be together. It’s not mutual - you see that now, how one dancer is caught in the other dancer’s world and he is trying to break free. Is this an abusive relationship?

“You’re safe as a mountain But know that I am dynamite Oh, oh, you’re safe as a mountain But know that I am dynamite…”

The pieces come together, and it suddenly makes sense. Maybe you’re making a huge assumption, but you can’t help but think that this is the story of Kino’s relationship with his family.

It moves you to tears, and you struggle to keep your composure. It feels like you’re watching a little piece of Kino’s soul through these dancers, and it’s devastating to think that someone as sweet and gentle as Kino would ever be caught in such a terrible situation. He deserves so much better than that. He deserves a family that loves him.

When the performance ends the whole audience applauds, but you can only look at Kino as he wipes away his tears, a melancholy smile on his lips. 

***

Kino walks you back to your dorm, and you stop just outside the front door. You haven’t said much since the performance because he was immediately bombarded by other students and professors coming up to congratulate him. But now, you finally have his undivided attention.

“Your piece was absolutely beautiful,” you gently praise him. “I think you’re incredibly talented to draw that much emotion out of the audience. Seriously, it was incredible.”

“Thank you.” He looks down, his soft voice accompanied by a shy smile. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came with me tonight. Thank you so much for being there to support me.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Kino.” You pull him in for a hug, feeling proud of him and also feeling much closer to him than you were before. 

When you pull away, he asks, “Do you want to maybe come over for a little bit? Just to hang out?”

That would be nice, but you remember your plans with Wooseok. For some reason, though, it doesn’t feel right to tell Kino about that. “Ah, I can’t. I told Nailah I’d spend time with her tonight.”

You immediately feel guilty about the lie, but Kino isn’t bothered by your excuse. “Have fun with her, then.”

He reaches out, his hand gliding down your forearm until his fingers interlace with yours. You look down at your intertwined hands, your pulse quickening just as it did in the theater. You’re not sure why you react that way. And then you feel the soft press of lips on your forehead.

Did…? Did Kino just…?

You look up at him, shocked. He had just kissed you. What was that all about?

His eyes scan your face, the sweetest, gentlest smile on his lips. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You nod, still kind of confused and surprised by what just happened. But he walks off before you can really process it, and you just stand there like an idiot for a minute or two.

Reading into it is probably the worst thing you could do. Kino is a touchy guy, so it shouldn’t seem unusual for him to kiss you on the forehead. It’s just a sweet, friendly gesture, right? He probably doesn’t mean anything by it, so you shouldn’t assume he does.

The last thing you want is to make things weird. He’s a great friend, and you don’t want to lose him. So you’re not going to make a big deal out of this.

Desperate for a distraction, you pull your phone out as you head inside. A few texts from Wooseok are waiting for you, just as you had expected.

Wooseok (8:13pm): Still want to come over?

Wooseok (8:13pm): Minho just left and won’t be back until tomorrow

You respond.

You (9:02pm): Of course. Just got back. Give me 10 to freshen up and I’ll be over.

Wooseok (9:02pm): I’ll give you 5

You (9:03pm): 7?

Wooseok (9:03pm): 6.5 starting now. 

Wooseok (9:04pm): see u soon, short stuff 😘

***

You make it to his place in exactly seven minutes because you’re a glutton for punishment, but you think you’ve devised a plan to help you earn back his favor.

“You’re late.” He greets you at the door to his apartment.

“But I brought a gift.” You try your best to look cute as you hide the small ‘present’ behind your back. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

He looks suspicious, but he smiles slightly as he does what you ask. Into his large palms, you place the panties you’ve been wearing all day. If Minseo has taught you anything, it’s that men go crazy for a girl in a dress with nothing on underneath.

“You said you wanted to keep them, so these are for you.”

Wooseok’s eyes shoot open as he realizes it’s silky, lacy fabric puddled in his hands. He looks at them with a sly smile. “Are you wearing any right now?”

You just smile coyly and shake your head. Success.

“Christ, woman, get in here.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you inside, letting the door slam shut behind you. You don’t even have time to kick off your shoes before he picks you up, your legs naturally wrapping around his hips to hold yourself up.

Wooseok’s lips crash into yours like he can’t stand the thought of waiting one more second. He’s way too eager, but you could never complain. You love feeling so wanted.

He presses you against the wall and you lace your fingers into his hair, tugging gently as you bite his lower lip. A deep growl vibrates in his throat, and it immediately shoots pleasure straight to your core.

You let yourself moan as you feverishly return every kiss he offers. You just can’t get enough of him, and it’s making you crazy. 

For just a second you pull away, but only because you need more. “Bedroom?” you pant.

Wooseok nods and carries you deeper into the apartment, throwing open the door to the bedroom and dropping you onto the bed.

“Hey! I’m not a doll!” You lecture him, but you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “Don’t toss me around like that.”

Wooseok just ignores you. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” His long fingers immediately find the buttons of your jacket, fiddling with one after the other until he pulls it off of you.

“It’s freezing outside! What did you expect? That I’d run across the street without a jacket on just so it would be easier for you to strip me? It’s bad enough that I came over without my tights on.”

“I mean… You probably would have gotten here when I asked you to if you hadn’t stopped to put a jacket on.” Wooseok runs his fingers over your bare thighs. “But next time, keep the tights on. They’re hot.”

“You’d like that?”

“Yeah, but you’re hot like this, too.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “You’d be hotter with your shirt off, if it counts for anything.”

“Sassy,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. Still hovering over you, he grabs the back of his collar and easily pulls the t-shirt over his head.

You’re right - you definitely like him better without the shirt. His torso and arms are nicely toned, and he just looks so good. Even his face is somehow more attractive than it’s ever been, and you know you’ve made the right choice in coming over here tonight.

You touch his cheek, and you can sense the depth behind his irises as his eyes scan your face. He’s fully present, and you just want to live in this moment with him.

“Why do you have to look at me like that?” he asks.

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know, you’re just fucking cute.” Wooseok dives in, laying you back onto the bed as his lips connect with yours. His hand starts at your neck and runs down over your arm before transferring to your hip, his kiss overwhelming your senses. Everything about him feels so good, so nice.

As you wrap your limbs around him, you remember what Yuto said to you at the gym this morning.

Be gentle with him.

Try not to hurt him.

Even though it’s none of Yuto’s business, you can’t help but keep his warnings in mind. The last thing you want to do is hurt Wooseok. This is all supposed to be harmless fun, after all.

You press a hand to his chest, silently asking him to stop kissing you.

“You good?” Wooseok asks, concerned.

“Yeah! I just wanted to make sure… You’re totally cool with this, right? Like, with us just being friends and doing this for fun? This isn’t going to make anything weird, right?”

Wooseok shrugs calmly. “Yeah, it’s cool with me. I don’t mind it at all and I promise I won’t get weird around you. You cool?”

You nod. “I’m cool with it. I just needed to know we were still on the same page. I, um, ran into Yuto today…”

“Shit, did he say something?”

“He told me to be careful with you. Like he thought I was going to break your heart or something.” You search his eyes. “Also, not cool that you told him about us. I thought this was going to be a private thing.”

Wooseok closes his eyes, sighing quietly. “I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut. He’s my best friend and I tell him everything. I didn’t even think about it.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t go telling the rest of the school, okay?” You chuckle quietly, not quite realizing how much you sound like a certain Professor asking someone to keep things a secret.

“I won’t breathe a word of it to anybody else. I promise.” He smiles. “And don’t worry, I’m not gonna catch feelings.”

“Okay, I’m going to trust you on that. But if either one of us starts to feel something, we have to be honest and stop. Deal?”

“Deal. But, not gonna happen. You can’t lock me down, woman.”

You roll your eyes. “You can lock me down, tie me up, whatever you’re into…”

Wooseok lowers himself onto you again with a devilish grin. “You’re bad.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Probably just get you naked and plow you into tomorrow.”

Laughter bursts from you and you can’t control yourself. “Did you really just say that?”

He laughs too, never one to take himself too seriously. “Yeah, I think I did. That was pretty awful.”

You slide your fingers into his hair and pull him down to you, crashing your lips together now that your concerns are alleviated. Your body is already aching for release and you’ve hardly even started.

Wooseok’s large hands roam your body, gliding over your curves and massaging your chest. Your fingers trail down his back and the groan he emits is absolutely precious. It feels like it has been ages since you’ve gotten laid and suddenly you’re starving for it.

Every kiss fuels the fire burning deep within you, your core throbbing with want. Your legs are wrapped around his waist and you wiggle your hips in search of some sort of friction. 

Wooseok gets the message loud and clear. His hand glides under the skirt of your dress in search of your folds, which are already delightfully wet by the time he reaches them. Even though you’re more than ready, he teases you, taking his time to caress your most sensitive spot. 

A quiet moan escapes you, and you reach down between your bodies in search of his length. You just have to know what it feels like, what kind of fun you should expect for the rest of the night.

Your fingers brush over the front of his jeans until you find an unmistakable bulge, and he sighs deeply as you pass over it. The sound is actually really hot, and you know instantly that you need to get him naked. 

“Take off your pants,” you murmur against his lips, your fingers already working to unfasten his jeans. You get the button and zipper of his pants undone, and he steps out of his pants and boxers all at once.

Seeing Wooseok naked is both weird and thrilling, and you realize how incredibly sober you are. The last time you were here in his apartment, you were both a little drunk. But this time you’re not inebriated in the least bit.

You definitely don’t need any alcohol to be convinced that you should have sex with this man right the fuck now.

“Condom?” You seriously hope that he has some, because you definitely didn’t think to bring one over.

“Yeah, hold up.” He opens the top drawer of his dresser and pulls out a rubber from his stash.

You pull him back down onto the bed as soon as he’s within reach, and he chuckles at your eagerness. You climb on top of him, kissing him passionately and wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“I don’t want to wait,” you whine as you stroke him. He’s already incredibly hard, and he’s just the perfect size for you. Usually you would insist that foreplay is a good idea, but you are way too impatient at the moment. “I want you inside of me.”

“Then stop waiting.”

Wooseok tears open the condom packet and rolls it on, and you lift yourself up, lining him up with your entrance. 

You let out a slightly strained breath as you slide down onto him, your walls stretching around his girth as you finally fill yourself with his cock. You unfortunately have to take it easy since you completely skipped the foreplay bit, but you slowly rock your hips, indulging in every bit of pleasure even the smallest movements bring you.

Eventually you’re able to increase your speed, and you lean back, helping his cock hit just the right spot inside of you, the spot that you know will leave you blinded with ecstasy. 

You don’t even realize that you’re still in your dress until Wooseok’s hand pushes your skirt back, bunching it at your hip as you ride him. “Lemme see.”

He fixates on the place where your bodies connect, his gaze full of lust. The sight of him beneath you only serves to turn you on more, and it only gets more perfect when his thumb grazes over your clit.

“Oh my God, yes,” you murmur, placing a hand behind you to hold yourself up as you lean back more. Between Wooseok’s touch and the angle of his cock, you felt yourself very quickly becoming unraveled.

Wooseok’s fingers dig into your hip, his cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. Your walls contract tightly around him as you work yourself up, entirely obsessed with the beautiful pleasure pulsing through you. 

“I’m… so close…” You moan for him. “Please, keep going. Don’t change a thing.”

He groans softly. “Already, baby?”

“It feels good,” your voice is absolutely blissful. “Count down from five. Slowly.”

It’s something you like to do when you masturbate - you’ve practiced orgasming on demand because there’s something you absolutely love about forcing yourself to hold off right when you’re ready to explode.

Wooseok doesn’t question. He just keeps rubbing circles into your clit, and he counts. “Five.”

Your chest is already growing warm, your abdomen tight. 

“Four.”

You force yourself to take deep breaths, but they’re littered with moans.

“Three.”

Your pussy swells with pleasure, hot and electric.

“Two.”

“Fuck!” You can barely keep yourself together. “Please please please…”

“One, baby-”

“Oh!” 

You don’t just explode - you burst like a fucking broken dam. Ecstasy overwhelms you as you unintentionally squirt all over Wooseok’s stomach. You’re an absolute gushing mess for him, but you’re too caught up in your pleasure to care. Your whole body feels bathed in sunshine and you’re convinced there is no better feeling than this.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

You’re brought back to reality when Wooseok finally speaks up. He looks absolutely shocked by what just happened, and you realize that you didn’t give him any sort of warning that you might soak him.

Panicked, you apologize. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Shut up, you’re so fucking hot.”

Wooseok sits up and pulls you to him, kissing you more roughly than ever. You eagerly return each kiss, grateful that he’s not upset like you originally thought. 

“Wooseok,” you smile against his lips at what you’re about to say. “I think now’s the time to get me naked and plow me into tomorrow.”

He laughs loudly, and his smile is adorable. “Hell yeah.”

In no time, your dress is on the floor and Wooseok has you pinned under him. Per his request you’re lying on your stomach, and he straddles your legs. He nestles his cock between your thighs, pressing into your slit with a pleased groan. 

“Shit, you feel good.” He holds himself up on his forearms, and his lips find your shoulder as he thrusts into you. He starts slow but very quickly picks up the pace until you’re both panting.

You lift your hips as much as you can to meet him, your fingers deftly working your clit. A second orgasm is definitely feasible at this rate, but you’re not going to try to force it.

Wooseok leaves a trail of bites and sucks from your shoulder up your neck until he reaches your ear. He sucks your earlobe into his mouth, biting and toying with your earring as he pounds into you. The sensation drives you wild, and very suddenly you crash into another orgasm.

A weird half-squeak, half-moan comes out of you as you dissolve beneath him, and you hear a strange series of noises come from Wooseok, too. He starts to laugh, but it’s strained and broken up by strangled, awkward moans as he finishes - then he collapses on top of you, shaking with laughter.

You know he’s definitely laughing at the sound you made, and you’re definitely laughing at the way he just laughed through his orgasm. It’s just such a drastic change of mood, and it’s absolutely endearing the way he clutches onto you as he laughs.

Wooseok is everything you thought he might be in bed, and it doesn’t even phase you that your hookup ended in a less-than-hot circumstance. How could you be bothered when you’re laughing this hard?

Something about the laughter makes his embrace feel exceptionally warm. And you kind of adore that.

You feel lighter than you have in a while, even though you’re sort of being crushed by him.

“Can’t breathe!” You squeal.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, rolling off of you and onto his back. “Hey, whatever the fuck that noise was, it was super cute.”

“I could say the same about your laughing orgasm,” you retort, scooting closer to him to indulge in his warmth.

Wooseok pushes your hair back, his dark chocolate eyes locking with yours. “It’s your fault I laughed through it. I don’t know how the hell your voice even got that high.” 

Just for fun, you try to recreate the noise, reaching as high as you can through your vocal range to pull out the most ridiculous note you’re capable of. You both laugh at your attempt, and then Wooseok gives it a try - and somehow far surpasses whatever pitch you had managed.

His eyes get so wide you think they might just fall out of his head, and you laugh more hysterically than you ever have in your life. It has to be physically impossible for him to screech as high as he just did, but he succeeded!

“Wooseok, what the fuck?” It’s impossible to catch your breath, but you manage to get some words out.

“I don’t even know.” He shakes his head and shrugs, laughing right along with you.

Eventually you’re both able to calm down. Your arm is draped across his chest, and his hand glides up and down your spine in a way that soothes you. The friends-with-benefits line is a little blurred because you’re not sure if cuddling is part of that package, but as per usual you tell yourself that you’ll figure it out later. You’d rather just enjoy yourself.

“_____?” Wooseok gently breathes your name into your hair, and you prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. He’s gorgeous and you don’t know how you didn’t see it before. “I’m glad you came over.”

You don’t think - you just act on instinct. Your fingers glide up to his cheek and you lean down to kiss him. Wooseok’s lips are warm and soft, and the kiss is sensual and provocative and...

And it melts deep into your heart, lighting you up from head to toe.

It stirs up every romantic thought that you know you shouldn’t have about him.

Fuck.

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 7.

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