#grad school sure...is...🥴

[charmre]

Vibrating in anxiety bc I want to be doing something (or at least THINK I should be) but I believe I'm in a place with my assignments where I need to get feedback first in order to really move forward

But I'm like, "Can I do more?? Is this enough yet????"

[freefallen-snx]

World on Fire - Part 1

Details: 3.5k words, male sneezing/illness, M/F pairing (so far...)

Summary: A journalist is plagued by fever-dreams whenever he comes down with something. His entire life, he thought they were just that - fever dreams. But events unfold and he discovers that they're not just dreams - they're prophecies. Word travels fast, and an agency soon discovers his abilities, concocting something creative that will mean he is beneficial to them... for better or for worse.

I have posted a few little original pieces here and there but this is the first plot-heavy fic that I have shared! It is pretty packed full of self-indulgence when it comes to snz, with some pretty heavy NSFW scenes, so be warned 😅

These are all original characters, all aged in their early-mid thirties. It's my first time trying out these characters, and I'm having fun doing so!

I only have this one part written so far, and plan to continue it as soon as I can! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it!! I haven't gotten heavy into the plot so far so the summary may be a little confusing but the rest is coming, I promise 😆

Also I apologise if the formatting is all over the place 🥴 please let me know if it is and I will endeavour to sort it out!

Warnings: there are some light mentions of potentially upsetting topics but nothing detailed in any capacity; light mentions of mess

~*~

The world was on fire.

Metaphorically, yes, but in some cases, quite literally. One couldn't tune into the news without natural disaster this and genocide that. Sometimes, if one was incredibly lucky, a slow-news day would simply be a politician or two with their dicks in hand, convincing the world that they held the only extinguisher known to mankind.

For some, simply switching off the news, sticking their fingers in their ears and pretending it wasn't happening was a privilege those lucky few were afforded.

For others, that privilege wasn't quite in their favour.

There were those who lived through the tragedies that for most people were simply just pictures on a screen, words on paper or voices through a radio. People whose entire lives were an endless torrent of pain, misery and torture.

Then, there were people like Rafe Gentry. For a person that proclaimed to have a moderate-severe distaste for worldwide affairs, he sure had chosen a profession that flung him headfirst into every ongoing catastrophe possible.

It wasn't even like it had happened by chance. He hadn't just stumbled into this by accident. As a child, he would line up his toys and interview them one-by-one on a recording device he had been gifted for a birthday. During high school, he had volunteered as a journalist for the school paper, earning countless merits for his work. At college, he had majored in journalism and upon graduating, had attended grad school for many years focusing on global studies and politics and international relations, surpassing the majority of his peers. His working life had consisted of brewing coffee for the editors and filing away papers for the columnists.

Until now.

All the years spent studying and sinking himself into crippling debt had finally paid off as he sat at a single desk in his home-office, brewing coffee and filing papers. But, hey, at least these tasks were solely for himself now.

“Rafe?”

The voice yanked Rafe out of his bi-weekly pity-party of what his life had become. He didn’t bother lifting his head, which was cradled in his hand, as he spoke loud enough to carry across the spacious room and be heard over the faint crackled voices coming from the radio beside him.

“It's open.”

He hadn’t even finished speaking before there was a creak of wood and a familiar figure popped up like a rabbit from a warren beyond the door. Only half-entering the room, eyes settled stonily on the huddled figure at the desk, their force heavy enough to be felt without needing to be seen. The radio was briskly switched off, the room plunged into a brief silence.

“I wanted to make sure you'd heard,” came the voice from the door. It was only then that Rafe lifted his head, settling his eyes on the somber figure before him.

Chestnut hair, clasped loosely behind her head with escaped tendrils resting lightly around her shoulders; choppy but practical bangs framing her narrow, diamond-shaped face. Her lips were plump, and Rafe began to think back to the last time he saw them smile. It had been a while, admittedly, so long that he couldn't even remember when. Sometimes, he forgot just how beautiful she was.

“Which part?” Rafe asked, lowering his gaze back down and reaching for a lighter across his desk. A cigarette was lifted to his mouth, and he lit the end before drawing in a deep inhale, holding it for a beat or two, before exhaling out a plume of smoke. His shoulders dropped a notch or two, his eyes closing briefly before reopening, as though he had managed to escape reality for just that split second before being slammed back down to earth. “The floods, the bombings or the Supreme Court legislations?”

There was a sudden rustle of paper and then a distinct smack! as something was slapped down onto the desk before him. It was enough to make him stagger backwards in his chair, head snapping up to look at the paper before staring up at the woman before him. Rafe hadn’t even noticed anyone crossing the room, never mind managing to stand right before him and startle the jeebies out of him so easily. His eyes narrowed, boring her with an incensed look, before he looked down at the paper before him.

It was a newspaper, unopened and boasting the front page. In big, bold letters were the words:

“BODY FOUND IN LOCAL WOODLAND AS PURSUIT FOR MISSING WOMAN COMES TO A CLOSE.”

Rafe had to admit that he read it two or three times over, just to make sure that he wasn't missing something. He drew another drag from his cigarette before looking up again, his pale eyes settling on the deep, stoic ones above him.

“This?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at the print. A nod. “Why would you think this is something I need to know about?” he asked.

“Well, you haven't read the article yet,” was the response with an air tinged with superiority. He scoffed, arguably a little too enthusiastically as it became a cough, smothered directed into his chest. As soon as it settled, another draw was taken from the cigarette.

“I don't need to read an article about a closed case,” Rafe dismissed, having just begun the conversation but already growing tired of it. A hand lifted back to his head where fingertips rubbed across the length of his brow, his other hand stubbing out the now-finished cigarette into the makeshift ashtray beside him.

“I think you might want-”

“Dammit, Ally!”

The woman was cut off before she had barely begun, causing her mouth to snap shut before her eyes narrowed and her arms folded across her chest. It would seem that such an outburst wasn't anything new to her, if her lack of alarm was anything to go by. Rafe had pushed back his chair and was standing now, a haze of smoke framing his slender figure, all the more prominent from the pale sunlight filtering in through the windows.

“Between six case-loads, three columns and a superior breathing down my neck about deadlines, deadlines, deadlines, I haven't got time to waste on shit like this, just because some wanker-cops can't do their fucking jobs.” His voice was level but sharp, his eyes wide but brow furrowed as he stared at his wife from across the desk. She did nothing but simply roll her eyes, clicking her tongue against her teeth.

There was a stretch of silence between them, broken after merely a minute by a siren blaring from beyond the window. Probably some wanker-cops actually doing their jobs. It seemed to be a shared thought, and the tension in the room lifted slightly as Rafe sat back down, inhaling sharply through his nose before grabbing a pen and starting to scribble frantically once more on the notepad before him.

“I don't need any more of my time wasted,” he finally said without looking up, followed by another sharp sniff. This one was enough to wrinkle one side of his nose.

“I know,” Ally conceded, turning to walk back towards the heavy oak door. She paused briefly when she heard a staggered breath, ready for another lecture about how precious her husband's time was at present. She turned just in time to catch Rafe's expression; lips parted, eyes squinted, head tipped back just slightly. They had been married long enough for her to recognise the signs, and she smirked to herself as she padded lightly back towards the desk, reaching the edge before a final gasp crumpled his expression completely, and he snapped to the side with an uncovered,

“hyd'DZSHh!.. hh..”

Before he could even sniffle a recovery, fingers were cupped beneath his chin, gently pulling it back so his post-sneeze misted eyes were looking right up into hers. Leaning down, she placed a delicate kiss at the tip of his nose, his reflex being to crinkle it up a little and sniffle a staccato series of sniffles. She smiled before pulling away, their faces hovering inches apart for a moment.

“Bless you,” she practically whispered, standing upright and walking once more towards the door. She made it this time, turning her head over her shoulder before she let herself out, her expression verging on smug as she pointed towards the desk.

“Just read the fucking article.”

And then she was gone. Rafe listened to her footfalls grow quieter the further she ventured from his office, and only once he was certain she was out of earshot did he snatch a tissue from a box nearby and sulkily blew his nose into the paper.

***

Afternoon soon became evening; neither Rafe nor Ally spoke more than a few words to the other during that time. Dinner was prepared, cooked and eaten in near-silence, the dishes cleared away and the house tidied just as the sun began its dip below the horizon. Rafe had been back in his office, mulling over paperwork, when he was disturbed by an unexpected visitor. Neither of them needed to verbally communicate what came next.

They kissed deep into each other's mouths over his desk as they disrobed; cunnilingus was undertaken in the shower; the two of them hadn't even been able to make it to the bedroom before fellatio in the hallway. Having finally made it to the bedroom, it was a sordid array of sheets and limbs everywhere as they fucked hard and fast late into the night.

Only when the moon was fully risen, casting an eery light through the window and illuminating their naked bodies with a sickly, pale glow did they finally slow to a stop. Legs tangled together, sheets haphazardly strewn on top and around them, Rafe lay breathlessly in bed on his back, his wife laid across his chest in post-coital contentment.

“I missed that,” Rafe hummed sleepily, half-expecting Ally to already be asleep. She shuffled slightly but didn't lift her head, her cheek pressed firmly against his chest where she likely had the drumbeat of his heart in her ear.

“I missed you,” she replied, tracing a finger over the flat surface of his stomach.

Rafe didn't need her to elaborate; he knew what she meant. His work was high-pressure, demanding, consuming most of his time and the majority of his patience. If he wasn't out at work in the company office or undertaking fieldwork, he was sequestered away in his office at home, working tirelessly on cases that just kept piling up. Between jobs, he was so exhausted and stressed that his patience was non-existent, and he didn’t need to be told how insufferable he had become to be around.

Nestling a soft kiss against her head, Rafe sniffled a couple of times, able to feel that familiar, cloying tickle begin to rise up once again in his sinuses.

He'd woken that morning to a sensation of fullness inside his nose that no amount of blowing would alleviate. There was no gunk, no snot to blow out, just a constant dense pressure behind his eyes. Over the course of the day it had persisted, a mild but manageable irritation. It had only been since dusk that he had noticed a tickle blossom, negligible and dormant enough, but every so often it had speared into an undeniable itch that had resulted in a sneeze or two.

That tickle had receded during their lovemaking, but now that he was supine and relaxed, it returned. Not wanting to disturb Ally, Rafe reached up his free hand, the one that wasn't pinned beneath his wife's shoulders, and gave his nose a quick pinch-wipe. It felt good, but it did nothing to ease the brewing tickle which was only becoming stronger with each breath he took. He was going to sneeze, without a shadow of a doubt, so the best he could do now was prepare.

Closing his eyes, Rafe focused on the faint buzzing inside his nose, which seemed more prominent on the left side. His lips parted as he drew several deep breaths through his mouth, his hand hovering an inch or two in front of his face, ready to catch the inevitable. This particular sneeze granted mercy on him, the build up only short before he felt the tickle mount to unstoppable levels, stealing his breath in one large, last shaky inhale. His brows lifted, nostrils pulsing erratically until they held wide, hardened to a stiff edge, before finally, release.

“..hd- h'DJZZSH'h-!!”

It was as confined as it could be, but it was still forceful enough to shake Rafe's shoulders, jostling Ally beneath him. She startled a little, lifting her head just in time to catch his suspended expression, another sneeze fast approaching. She watched his nose quiver, nostrils flaring wide until he crunched to the side with another bed-shaking sneeze.

“h-!.. hA-TDSZSH-uh!.. ugh..”

The second one was bigger, louder, wetter. Rafe felt his stomach tighten at the force in which he was snapped forward, and could feel moisture collecting around his nostrils. He sniffled, using the back of his wrist to crunch beneath his nose, serving both to scratch the itch and swipe at the mess. He began to fumble on the nightstand for a tissue, a handkerchief, a slip of cloth, anything he could use to wipe or blow his nose. He was only scrambling for a few seconds before he felt something soft pinch his nostrils together, and when he looked across, he saw a smirking Ally with a soft swatch of fabric pinned to his nose.

“Bless you, love,” she hushed in the dark, wiggling her fingers against his nose as she kept it pinched shut. She was wordlessly telling him to blow, but he would never, so he swatted her hand away as he grabbed the cloth himself.

Using both hands, he blew his nose vigorously, not even sure but equally not caring what he was using as a tissue. It took a couple of attempts, a swipe and a pinch-rub before he was satisfied, chucking the soiled fabric down onto the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes before laying back down and pulling Ally back onto his chest.

“Are you feeling alright?” Ally asked as she settled back down, able to hear the slightly quickened cadence of his heart after those couple outbursts. Rafe sniffled dryly, pondering the question before his gravelled tone spoke up.

“Never better,” he chimed, staring up at the ceiling. His nose still buzzed with an ominous threat of more sneezes to come, but for now, he was safe. If the weight of his eyes was anything to go by then it was likely he'd be asleep before another round took over him anyway. He smirked against the top of Ally's head, tightening his grip on her playfully.

“You know I'm allergic to pussy.”

He felt Ally shift beneath him and tap him lightly on the arm in mock scorn. It was a running joke between them as Rafe was allergic to cats. It was his go-to if he ever sneezed during or after sex, and as corny as it was, it never failed to bring a smile to Ally's lips.

Whether Ally was suspicious or not was irrelevant, as the two of them were too worn out to continue any kind of questioning or conversation and it wasn't long before they were both lost in the throes of sleep, neither of them moving until the first light of dawn crept in slowly between their curtains.

***

The night passed by unceremoniously. The two of them slept soundly, bundled together in each other's arms until one - or both - of them shifted, Rafe waking in the morning untangled and alone on his side of the bed.

The encompassing feeling of knowing that overcame him took mere seconds of being conscious. The previous day had been spent in denial but now… now there was no doubt.

He was sick.

And dammit, what an utterly shitty time for him to get sick. Work was stacked, his workload growing by the hour, never mind by the day, not to mention client meetings, interviews, columns. He could rearrange, sure; no one would beseech him for taking a day or two to kick this thing in the ass. But it would be counterproductive, leading to more work to catch up on when he returned. It just wasn't worth it.

It was through sheer force, determination, and perhaps a little bit of spite that Rafe forced his way out of bed, careful not to wake Ally who was still sleeping beside him. He'd managed to stumble into the bathroom before the coughing took hold, deep in his lungs and rattling in his chest. Great.

Admittedly, the shower did help clear out some of the sickly, shaky feeling that had crept up on him overnight, but what apparently resolutely refused to shift was the thick, throbbing congestion laden heavy in his nose.

Several attempts at clearing it out with swatches of toilet paper proved futile, before Rafe just gave it up and resigned himself to a day of sniffling. Swiping the condensation from the mirror with a palm, he studied his reflection: heavy-lidded eyes with dark circles beneath, a pallid complexion, flecks of colour only visible across his cheeks, and of course, his nose. His nose looked truly ridiculous, practically glowing red against the pallor of his skin. It felt warm to touch, Rafe able to feel its warmth radiating out like a stupid fucking beacon without even lifting a hand to it. He watched himself as it began to twitch, a tickle so deep creeping in that he barely had time to react.

It was one of those tickles that spiked him suddenly, thin and sudden in one spot inside his left nostril. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed, scowling beneath his breath as it completely consumed him. It was quick, sharp, and had his breath catching beyond his control. His shoulders bounced with one, two, three stilted inhales before it fanned out, flaring his nostrils wide as a huge inhale was drawn, before the final release.

“hh-!.. h'DTZSHH-!.. HD'DJZSHH!.. hh-.. h-!.. HYD'TZZSHH-IUH!!...”

Ridiculous. As strong, desperate and powerful as they were, neither one quite scratched at the persistent tickle. Each sneeze brought with it another, more violent than its predecessor. Three seemed to do the trick, and even though a faint, hazy flutter remained deep inside Rafe's nostril, it wasn't quite potent enough to bring forth any more sneezes for the moment.

Scowling under his breath, Rafe grappled for yet more toilet paper, tenting a clump over his nose with two hands and blowing as hard as he could, as though he wanted his nose to hear and feel just how pissed he was. It seemed to work, and he was able to feel a slight shift in the congestion as it loosened enough for a productive blow, leaving him damp-eyed, red nosed and sniffly, but able to sort-of breathe somewhat through his swollen passages. It gave him enough of a reprieve to dry off, get dressed and venture into the kitchen without any further nonsense.

Rafe was already halfway through his first cup of coffee before his nose's consideration of him ran dry. He was leaning over the breakfast bar, a newspaper spread out beneath him when another sneeze began to build. One thing that Rafe hated about colds was how intense, how desperate the tickle always was, but his nose was never in a rush to get it out. They would be long, torturous and drawn-out, leaving him stuck in a hitching, sneezy limbo for far too long before he was granted any semblance of relief.

He did nothing to fight against it this time, just letting it come how and when it wanted. It was fierce enough to wrinkle his nose up, a little snarl snagging at the edge of his upper lip. His head ducked down as he waited, his breathing laboured as it built… and built… and built… Just when he thought it was going to fizzle out, the tickle suddenly erupted, snatching a huge gasp from his lungs before his head snapped down further.

“h'TTZSZSHH-!.. h!-h!-.. HJ'DJZSSH'IUHH!!..”

“Bless you.”

The voice came from behind him and before Rafe could properly lift his head, he felt a hand smooth along the length of his shoulders. He was sniffling thickly as his eyes met Ally's, who was now standing before him dressed in a simple silk nightgown. Her eyes scanned his face, a brow cocking knowingly as her hand lowered to gently grip his upper arm.

“You caught yourself a cold?” she asked, a teeny tiny twinge of amusement cloying her tone, which soured Rafe's mood and expression further. She knew the answer already but Rafe knew she just wanted him to concede defeat. Admission was surrender, and he could - he would - never. His scowl deepened as he shuffled to stand upright, brushing her hand away from his as he shucked both hands at his collar.

“It's just a sniffle,” Rafe admitted factually, though the gravelled edge to his voice, which was undeniably laden with thick congestion, told another story. Ally rolled her eyes but said nothing, knowing it was futile. Rafe was a detestable asshole at the best of times; give him a cold and he became intolerable.

Downing the last dregs of his lukewarm coffee, Rafe shrugged on his jacket and snatched up his keys and wallet. Ally watched him with silent pity, folding her arms as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. She could hear the congestion in his chest and nose with each breath he took, knowing his tendencies to work himself into the ground and make himself worse.

“You should stay home,” she said, unable to help herself. Rafe didn't even give her the satisfaction of a response, pulling his lips away and sauntering towards the door. Clicking it open, he looked back to her, thumbing the tip of his nose before speaking.

“I'll be late tonight,” he advised, and with that, he was gone. Ally listened to his footfalls crunch the gravel of their driveway, a sudden violent sneeze muffled but audible before the sound of his car roared into life and screeched away.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes falling onto the newspaper still spread across the countertop. She paused when she noticed the familiar article, scanning over it a few times before folding it up and chucking it into the recycle to be forever forgotten. Neither one of them knew just how foreshadowing that one article would be.

tbc...

[gyunglitter]

➷ prologue ➷

-“oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn’t real -– cupid is so dumb”

or

unlike you, your brother’s best friend just doesn’t know when to quit

word count: 1,205

warnings: not too many, just hints of angst and a SINGULAR curse word (for now lmao), i hate editing sooo this is VERY unedited lmao

tags: brother’s-best-friend!beomgyu x reader, ??? to ???, angst, fluff(??), beomgyu is the cool boy-next-door, reader is an independent girlboss (or trying to be, at the least), beomgyu’s gonna be GROVELING, simp!gyu, pathetic pining from both sides lol, maybe some cringe from reader (she was a teenage girl in love, have some empathy plz😭)

notes: super excited for this story! inspired by my personal love life (except for the fact that no one’s groveling for me, just the first half of the story🥴) but we believe in happy endings here!! enjoy a story of pining and crying and groveling<3

–> masterlist <–

Shit. You were so late.

It wasn’t necessarily your fault. Okay, maybe it was. After getting off your flight, you had made the irrational decision to stall your return home by stopping by your childhood best friend’s grad party, as she had also graduated from college at the same time as you. (Thank instagram for providing you with that information.) And so what, you got caught up and now you’re twenty minutes late to the dinner your parents were putting together for you–it’s for your graduation, it’s not like they can start without you anyway. 

At least, that was the reassurance you kept repeating to yourself as you begged your uber to speed up the rest of the way to your childhood home.

Unlike the last time you had stepped foot in your family’s home, you were now twenty-one—a real adult—with your bachelor’s and a promising full-time job. Just like you had promised yourself when you were eighteen and moving out almost four years ago: you’d grown up.

There were a few promises you weren’t able to keep, but you’d rather not think about that as you rang the doorbell to your old house.

“Y/n! You’re finally here!” The shrill that came out of your mother was nothing but joyful, as she ran from her side of the doorframe to hug you tightly. “Where have you been? Dinner was supposed to start at seven!”

You patted her on the back, laughing sheepishly. “Sorry, traffic was terrible,” you lied, wincing at yourself. You’d made sure to wash your teeth in your friend’s bathroom before leaving and sprayed a ton of perfume on yourself in the uber before coming over to the door to hopefully drown out the smell of your previous engagement, but that didn’t stop you from fearing your mother’s strange intuition.

Luckily for you, she’d bought it, probably too caught up in the excitement of you being home after so long. You didn’t come home to visit since you had left abroad for school. If your parents ever wanted to see you, they would fly out instead, sometimes bringing your older brother and making the visit a family vacation instead. There were a few times you could’ve gone home and made it easier for your family to see you, but you always came up with an excuse. You’d gone to great lengths to not step foot in this house. Until now, of course.

You stepped inside, taking off your shoes as your mother asked you a ton of questions regarding your food storage, laundry, and how much the uber was. All the usual things she asked you when she got the chance. It made you laugh a bit, before going to deny it.

“Eomma, you have nothing to worry about! My well being and financial state are fine at the moment,” you reassured her.

This didn’t work, as she continued to rant about her concerns. Oh well, you tried.

You looked down to put on a pair of house slippers, when you noticed an additional pair of shoes sitting by the others. It wasn’t a pair that you recognized, but your heart stuttered a little at the possibility of who the shoes could belong to. You hoped it was one of your uncles you hadn’t seen since you were a kid. Or maybe a grandparent! Hell, you hoped it was your weird-possibly-dead next door neighbor–anybody other than the first name that popped in your head.

Your mother sighed at you, “Honestly, Y/n, it’s been years since you came home! I worry–”

“Is that Y/n?!”

Your head shooting up, you couldn’t stop the grin on your face from growing when you saw your older brother, Soobin, after over a year. He didn’t make it to the last few visits because of work, and it made you miss him dearly. Who would’ve guessed?

“Oppa!” You cried, running over to your brother that already had his arms open for you. Hugging him tightly, you laughed a bit. “Jeez, oppa, what happened to your lankiness? You have muscles now!”

Soobin snorted at that, squeezing you tighter in his arms. “It’s called the gym, ever heard of it? Now that you’ve graduated, you’ll finally have time to go! Congrats, by the way.”

You smiled in thanks. Your brother and parents hadn’t been able to make it to your graduation since it had been a bit of a last second decision–you weren’t too sure when your graduation was supposed to be since you figured you still had a few more credits to go. But you ended up getting cleared after a bit of deliberation, shocking your family as they hadn’t made plans to fly out yet. It was you who had decided that instead of them coming out, you would come home to celebrate and stay for the next couple of months before your job needed you. Your family agreed without hesitation, they had been trying to get you to come home ever since you’d left. And here you were now, after what felt like a lifetime.

“It’s good to have you home, Y/n,” your father shouted, coming from the kitchen.

You grinned at your father and went to hug him as well. He had on an apron, looking like he had just finished making some dessert judging by the chocolate smudges on the front. Unlike the last time you had seen him (which had been about six months ago), he had quite a few more patches of gray hair. But his smile was the same.

“It’s good to be back, appa,” you replied, and it wasn’t a lie.

Looking around the home, you realized not much had changed. Sure, there were a couple new photos hung up and there was some new furniture fitted in, but everything felt the same. Even the sounds of the house were the same: the TV playing some sports game your dad wanted to catch, your mom scolding Soobin as he whined, and the beeping of the oven from the kitchen. Though it had been so long since you last stepped foot in here, you felt like if you closed your eyes, you could be taken back to when you were eighteen. At first, you didn’t mind the thought of that.

Until he came back.

“Hey, little Y/n.”

The smile you had on your face immediately dropped at that voice. That damned voice. 

You could recognize all of the old nostalgic sounds from around the house easily. But none of it compared to the deep tone that sounded behind you. You remember when the pitch had still been higher and louder, before mellowing out to the smooth baritone you had spent your teen years adoring. You swooned when you would hear it around you, and dreamt of when it would be spoken for you.

But that was when you were eighteen. And, with your greatest effort over the years, you were no longer eighteen.

“Beomgyu…I should’ve known those shoes up front were yours.”

–> next <–

[junejems]

So far this is what I have.

Takes place around like. 1995? Ish?? A lot happening that year. Grunge, nineties nihilism, all the good stuff. I keep thinking about High Fidelity. But not that? Idk. Rambling!

Rook: 30 year old ex military, dealing with y’know. All that entails. Since this is my Rook, her name is Araceli Thorne.

She’s just trying to get her life together, figure out what that even looks like, the usual nonsense. Hasn’t figured out what she’s doing besides getting a job in a coffee shop that’s down the block from a bookstore that so happens to have a really robust occult/supernatual section.

Emmrich: okay. Bear with me. The only real world analogue I could think of for him was a PhD in Thanatology lmaoooo. So. That’s what I’m working with. He’s well off for the same reasons: just smart with his money!

He owns the bookstore. Obviously. Teaches classes at the local university. He’s thinks he has his life figured out. (Ahaha!)

Bellara: grad student, Emmrich is either her mentor or…a former mentor? Anyway, he gave her a job in the bookstore. She’s also Araceli’s friend from high school- they sort of stayed in touch? As much as possible anyway. She knows she doesn’t have jack shit figured out and she loves it. Life’s a mystery, and she’s gonna try to solve it if she doesn’t get distracted!

Having a new roomie in the form of her old high school pal is a blast for her!

I kind of want to include the others, just not sure if I will. I need to figure it out. But these three are definitely included. Tbh, I could see Lucanis and Harding as Araceli’s fellow baristas. Hmmmmmm. Davrin could be another military person that Araceli befriends at some point. I like their friendship in any universe!

Rambling done. For now 🥴

Well looks like I’m writing a 90s AU featuring not only a coffee shop but a bookstore AND some university shenanigans because why the hell not I say

[the-iceni-bitch]

Lap Dance

Birthday Domme Week: Day 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!reader (OTP ninja and puppy)

Words: ~1.4K

Summary: Ransom wants to start your birthday week out with a bang.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (lingerie kink, m receiving oral sex, brief daddy kink), subby but also kinda bratty Ransom, marijuana use, mentions of past sex work, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: I would literally cut off my arm if it would mean I could physically manifest this man for myself, Jesus Christ 🥴

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You groaned when you walked in the front door, thankful your team had finally forced you to go home after dealing with that asshole caterer all day. All you wanted was some weed and maybe some Korean barbecue after the shit show.

So when you spotted the massive joint Ransom had left for you on the coffee table in front of your favorite chair with a note to just sit back and relax, you were in heaven. It was the good weed, too, damn this boy spoiled you.

“Ran?” You lit up and sat back with a sigh, taking a deep pull and undoing your cuffs as you looked around for him. “Baby where are you? Should we order some food?”

“In a bit!” You unbuttoned your blouse down to your navel and thought about undoing your garters when he shouted at you from the hall. “I’ve got a surprise for you first.”

“What kind of surprise?” You spread all the way out as you took another deep toke, sagging into the chair and sighing.

He didn’t answer you, the sounds of The Weeknd filling your living room and making you look towards where he should be walking out with a small frown. You almost dropped the joint when he strutted out wearing nothing but a button up shirt and what you were pretty sure was your fucking favorite black lace set, the way his body was moving languid and so fucking sexy you could already feel slick starting to pool warm between your legs as you throbbed.

“Happy birthday week, Daddy.”

“Um… what?” You didn’t think he’d ever surprised you this much, you could barely think while he prowled towards you like a damn cat. “Ran… what?”

“I said happy birthday.” He stopped in front of you and leaned his hands on your shoulders, giving a lewd roll of his hips that made you growl until he was grinning at you. “Surprised?”

“Uh-huh.” You groaned when he knelt between your legs and dragged the front of his body against yours until he was brushing his nose over your throat. “Christ, where did you learn to dance like this?”

“Not important.” He turned around and rocked his body against yours again before bending forward and jiggling his ass in your face, chuckling when you gave him a good smack and told him to spill it. “Fine, I danced for a year after grad school.”

“Ok.” You were still having trouble focusing on what words you wanted to come out of your mouth, especially when he slowly peeled the shirt off and revealed he was wearing a fucking bralette in addition to the garters and thong. And the way he was moving, all those fluid, sensual rolls and dips that really highlighted just how well built he was, not at all like the typical crotch jackhammering you had seen from most male strippers. “Where did you dance?”

“Oh my god, would you just enjoy yourself?” He grinned at you when he turned again and spread himself over your lap, shoving his chest in your face and shimmying a little to hopefully get you to shut up. “I’ll answer this one but that’s it! Slaughter’s.”

“The gay bar?!” This was a lot of information to process in just a couple of minutes, even though you could feel yourself getting wetter as he ground his hips into yours. “Can you pole dance?”

“Ok, that’s enough.” He ducked close like he was going to kiss you and cupped your jaw with one hand, stilling at the last second until your breath was barely mingling while he reached behind him to undo the bralette.

“But…”

“Nope.” He gave a rich laugh when you narrowed your eyes at him stuffing the bralette between your lips, your annoyed expression only lasting for a minute until he stood up and hooked a knee over your shoulder. “Just relax.”

You were trying, but the weed combined with the way his body was rolling across your vision was making you all kinds of worked up. Plus you could see his pretty cock leaking all over him through the sheer lace of the panties right in front of your face, how the fuck were you supposed to relax?

“Ay, watch your hands!” He swatted you off when you tried to grab his hips, tutting at your whine and tucking his fingers under your chin while you pouted at him.

“But it’s my birthday.” You spat the bralette out and threw it away, grabbing the back of the couch to try to contain yourself when he ground into your lap again. “Puppy…”

“Beg as much as you want, but no touching until the song’s over.” He winked at you then rolled all the way back, rocking his hips a few times before straightening back up with a snap of his waist and purring when he licked at your throat teasingly.

“Fucking brat.” You huffed when he nipped at your jaw before leaning back and running his hands over his torso teasingly, fighting the urge to bend forward and bite him right in the tit.

He just kept giving you that crooked smile while he leaned back with his hands on your knees, his hips swaying to the rhythm and barely teasing over your lap while you bit your lip and whined. If you couldn’t touch him you could at least get him as worked up as you were.

“You look so goddamn pretty, baby.” You ran your tongue over your bottom lip and batted your eyelashes at him, ignoring his warning glance and shifting your hips under him slowly. “Fucking spoiling me with this shit. Love watching you work this perfect body.”

“I know you do.” Ransom was trying his best to keep his upper hand, but damn if you didn’t know just how to exploit his praise kink. “Love showing off for you.”

“Course you do baby, you’re so good at it.” You let out a deep hum and had to suppress a giggle when a flush started to creep up his chest and he started to press his cock into your lap. “You getting all worked up, puppy? You all wet?”

“You… fuck.” He stood up when you ground your body into his again, frowning at you slightly when he rolled his hips right in your face. “Yeah, I’m fucking wet, look at it.”

“Mm, I see, poor puppy.” You gave him a teasing pout before grabbing his hips without warning and wrapping your lips round his tip through the panties while he let out a hiss. “Gonna help you out.”

“Ah… shit.” He groaned when you smacked his ass hard when he tried to pull back, resting his hand on your head and rocking his hips into your face when you licked slowly over his cock before sucking on his mushroom head again. “I dunno what I expected.”

You just shrugged and sucked harder, your tongue tracing over his slit while you kneaded the firm meat of his ass and hummed. Ransom threw back his head and whined when you grabbed his balls and rolled them through your hand, his hips stuttering as he felt pleasure gathering low in his core.

“C’mon puppy, it’s my birthday.” You cooed as you rubbed your face all over his bulge, tugging on the soaked fabric with your teeth and letting it snap back into place when he moaned. “Give it to me.”

Ransom let out a sharp cry when you sealed your lips around his tip one last time, his knees buckling as you sucked him dry through the thin lace of his panties. He practically collapsed into your lap when you released him with a pop, burying his face in your neck and panting heavily as you ran your hands over his back.

“Could’ve let me finish.” He huffed when you grabbed another joint and lit up, resting his forehead against yours and parting his lips so you could shotgun him.

“I’m sorry, pup, you’re too yummy for your own good.” You bit his lip softy before taking another pull, blowing the smoke into his mouth as he pressed himself closer to you and purred. “Well if you can stand you can finish, wanna make sure I get the full effect of my first birthday present.”

[cosmictulips]

Hey Miss Tulips! Can I ask for general advice please? Right now I'm just anxious about grad school and i can't make a decision. I just know that i wanna go somewhere far away from home. But that's just not working. And i feel anxious about even joining somewhere. I'm not ready for another beginning..

🥴♊♌♏

You know what I love about you and your asks? you always send two in because you always think you mess up when you don't and like I don't want you to change it because now it's like routine and if I don't see it I'll get really sad lmao.

Now as for your advice,

Your spirit guides are telling me to just let the thoughts go and don't rush into anything right now. Your anxiety really came through for this readinb but they want you to know that it's going to be okay.

I see a lot of movement coming in for you -dare I say within the next couple of weeks if that- and I think you'll have your decision by the end of this month if not like the middle.

Right now, enjoy what you have going for you. I'm seeing a lot of emotional support, so I am tempted to tell you to spend some time with friends, or go out and enjoy something that you like. I think the answer is going to come to you during a conversation. it feels very unexpected.

I think in the end you'll decide what's best for you. That may be grad school. but right now there's a HEAVY focus on making sure that you take care of yourself and the life around you. I think if you do go to grad school there's a high chance of success but spirit NOR I --- want you to go while you're so anxious about even thinking on whether or not you should go.

ya know?

take care of yourself my loveeeee

[choerrypuffs]

HI BAE MY NEW SEM JUST STARTED OGMGMOGMOG

the people are super nice!!!!! and the environment is pretty much way better than my last school which is cool as well!!!!!!!!!! the only thing is that . THEY SPEAK INDONESIAN AND I CANT SPEAK INDONESIAN FOR SHIT

idk there was a time i spoke it and a bunch of people laughed and shat on it and i think tahts why i have such anxiety when speaking it i have a fear of my own language NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

but frrr sometimes i want to break tf down whenever i hear that we have to speak indo BUT AT THE SAME TIME IM JUST SO PISSED AT MYSEL FLIKE ???????? its your language bro. learn it bro. this shouldnt give you anxiety it should be motivating you bro.

BUT HTE OTHER HALF IS LIKE ??????? what if you get everything wrong and you get bad grades and you wont get to a good college huh what happens then

2 sides of me i cant believe this

anw !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my GOD ALL THE CUTE GUYS ARE IN OTHER CLASSES NOT IN MINE LIKE </333 WHY GOD WHYYYY (lowkey moved schools to see the new hotties but . none are in my class what the FUCKCKCK)

AND DUDE OH MY GOD THE MOMENT I START SCHOOL MY WIFI CUTS OFF AND I MISS 3 ANNOUNCMENTS ALR AUUUGHGHGHGH </3333 ITS FIXED NOW BUT I MISSED 3 ANNOUNCMENTS AND 1 TUTOR CLASS :(((((

sorry for completely dumping in your inbox my love!!!!!!!!!!!11 how are you lana gogmgmogomg tell me all abotu your day/week ^^ LOVING THE NEW THEME BTW

-ccsa anon <3

ALSO AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH THE HILICHURLS BEATING YOUR ASS IS DEF NORMAL FOR YOUR LEVEL

frrr traveler supremacy they be the best character

I just pulled for kazuha and got him!!!!!!!!!!!! i was aiming for heizou but got c2 thoma instead T^T

-cssa anon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AHHHHH OMFG THIS IS ALMOST A MONTH LATE IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭 congratulations on the brand new semester, my love!!! i’m so happy everyone is nice and they’re making you feel comfortable 🥺omg don’t feel bad about not speaking indonesian well :((( i think those people laughed because they thought you were cute, but i totally get being embarrassed! my relatives laugh all the time at my very americanized chinese 💀 there is nothing wrong with not being able to speak your native language!! i understand that it can make you feel a bit left out but take things at your own pace 💕🥰 you’re super smart so i’m sure you’ll start picking it up in no time 🤩

OMG WAIT CUTE GUYS!?!??!??! ��👀👀 DOES THIS MEAN YOU’RE GONNA HAVE YOUR OWN FRIENDS TO LOVERS HIGH SCHOOL AU !!!! omg ccsa anon you are literally y/n 🧎🏻‍♀️update me on your future love story <3 it’s ok that they’re not in your class, it’ll be like a star-crossed lovers trope 😍

wtfffff i’m sorry your missed so much :(((( i hope you were excused for all of those since it’s the school’s fault 😡 did you manage to catch up pretty easily? 

NO BC IM SO SCARED OF HILICHURLS AND THE SLIMES I RUN AWAY EVERY TIME I SEE ONE IN THE WILD IM LITERALLY SUCH A LITTLE BITCH 😭😭😭 when i got that domain where you get lisa as a character i died like 10 times i almost had to get cat to log in and clear it for me 💔 but congrats on getting kazuha!! 🥳 i hope you can get heizou next time <3333

omg don’t apologize for updating me!! it makes me super happy when i see you in my inbox 🥰 I apologize for answering so late omg but i just started grad school and i’ve been so busy it’s not even funny 🤧 i’m also a TA so i’ve been trying to balance everything 🥴 ahhhh thank you so much!! i finally did a theme that isn’t pink LMAO but anyways!!! how have you been, my love!! how is school going?

[anniesardors]

Okay… not at all fandom or Upstead related (even though I could yell at you for DAYS about all of your fics) but I’m in my 4th year as a psychology major and my goal is to one day work in play therapy with children who require developmental, behavioural, and/or regulation support. I know you’ve said you work as a trauma therapist (your post about the stigma surrounding the idea of people being “broken” was absolutely ✨ICONIC✨) so I’m just wondering if you have an advice or wisdom to share for someone finishing up their bachelors degree and looking to work in the field? I’m in the process of applying for a thesis and looking at master’s programs but G O D 😂🥴 it would be so nice to get some perspective from someone in the field 💕

Oooh this might be one of my favorite asks ever. As much as I love yelling about upstead, I also REALLY love yelling about psych and therapy. For those of you who don't know, I'm a therapist working with young children and teens. I do trauma work, behavioral and mental health therapy, and play therapy (I'm lucky to get to do all those things because I'm so indecisive). It makes me SO HAPPY that you are getting into the field to because we need more wonderful people!

I've got lots of advice and I'm aware not everyone is going to find this post relevant so my long list of advice is under the cut!

If you can go to an open house/ in person interview before choosing your grad school, do. Grad school for therapy is different than a lot of other programs. You're going to be working very closely with your cohort. Almost all programs will have you record your therapy sessions and show them to your peers. You have to feel comfortable with those people. They are going to be critiquing you and helping you grow. I felt very comfortable with the people I met at my interview day and that was a huge factor of why I chose the school I did.

Applying for grad school is just the worst. Your worth is not tied to what schools you get into. Just remember that.

When you're applying for schools, look where they have their students do their internships (but it's totally normal if you have no idea what you're looking for in an internship site!).

Also make sure your school is accredited!!! Especially if you are getting a counseling degree because if your school isn't accredited, it'll bite you in the butt when you try to get a license down the road.

You're gonna feel like everyone has their crap together in grad school. They don't. You're all confused together. It's the beauty of it.

You're also probably going to have a lot of moments where you feel like you have no idea what in the world you are doing. You do. That's a normal experience. Something our professors always told us is that, at the end of it, you can always learn more skills and theories but the way you are with a client, that is what is important.

You're gonna learn a whole lot about yourself in grad school. It's part of the process of becoming a good therapist. Don't run from it.

Your grad school internship is your opportunity to ask a million questions. No one is going to think it's annoying. You're an intern, they don't expect you to have all the answers. Ask everything.

You also don't need to know what type of therapist you are gonna be in grad school. You don't need to have a chosen theoretical orientation when you graduate. You'll figure it out along the way. Trust me.

SELF-CARE. They're gonna shove this down your throat in grad school. They did it with me and honestly, I did not really believe the whole burnout thing they kept selling me. And then I worked as a therapist during 2020 and I got burnout real quick. You're gonna hate your job if you don't do good self-care.

Have good professional boundaries. Don't work at the job that makes you take on a ridiculous client load with little to no support. Don't bring work home with you. Don't do it.

I wish someone told me how hard it was going to be some days. You are going to see hard things and hear hard stories and they're going to get to you. You're human. That's why it's important to have good self care, good boundaries and have good supervision.

I also wish someone told me about the good days. Because damn they're good. Especially when you are working with kids. The way you feel after a good session or after a small victory with a client is indescribable. You're making a difference in someone's life and it's an honor to be doing so. The good moments make it so worth it.

Something you have to deal with when you work with kids in this type of setting is the never ending question of "Why?" I get a lot of strange looks and rude comments. when I tell people what I do. Ignore them. You're meant to do what you're doing and these kids are so worth it. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

I think the biggest piece of advice I can give is be the person who gives a crap. You're gonna mess up your theories and skills and you are going to have bad sessions. The kids don't know that and they don't care. What they do care is that you are showing up for them every week. That you love them unconditionally. That you give a crap. For a lot of the kids you work with, they don't have that in their lives. When I remove all the external pressure and just focus on caring about the kid sitting in front of me, I often see much more change than if I was doing all the fancy techniques.

I probably have thousands of more things I would say. This is a hard field but an amazing one. I am always more than happy to talk about it or share any advice. Feel free to pop into my ask box or DMs any time! I love talking about this stuff! Best of luck to the anon who sent this ask!!

[jjungkooksthighs]

Please I want all of them I am a very indecisive human myself 😩💀. And that anon sending the ask about street racer jk just WHY now I am suffering more 🥴. Whatever idea you can finish first you just take up that one I am fine with anything bub❤️. After all my biggest flex is that I am in love with that man since 3 years now you can write him in any character you want 💕. Your my no.1 ff writer so I will just read anything you write 🥰

I want them all just as much as you do, trust me. They all would likely have been written and posted by now had I not been so busy with multiple jobs and grad school.

I’m right there with you in terms of the street racer!jk anon because I think that idea could be made into something very….steamy. :) Him as a street racer would be so attractive and that is a fact !

Anyhow, I’m glad you’re okay with the ideas I’ve got cooking so far. They’ve been on my mind for a while now- I just haven’t had time to do them justice.

Also, you’ve loved him for three years, huh? I’ve been stanning BTS since their debut. It’s crazy to see how much they’ve grown (Jungkook especially). He’s definitely not a boy anymore; his voice, physicality and mentality reflect that for sure. He used to be so cute and now he’s… now he’s hot.

Oh, I just read that last part you wrote. 🥺 I’m your favorite ??? Really ??? 🥺 How’d you find me, anon? What piece of mine do you like the most and why? 🥺 that was such a sweet thing to say 🥺

[vixxey]

y’all I got put in charge of supervising a grad student for his first actual field project and he keeps pulling the “ummm actually, you only have a bachelors from a state school and are a chick so you can’t possibly know anything about the outdoors” crap because apparently, to him, I’m not being physically aggressive enough when working hands on with the animals we’re physically handling during trap checks. like....I’m trying so hard to explain to him that being aggressive around an animal or even just having aggressive or overly defensive body language is a sure fire way to get yourself into a bad situation but he keeps insisting “you have to assert your dominance”. 🥴... we are only doing pot trap surveys right now so he’s just being a dick to crustaceans with shell disease and small fish but ughhaahhhhh this train of thought needs to die. I’m so mad lol