#and then was like well for grad school you can go anywhere and then when it was brought up last time went lol no :)

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

[wintersoldiersoul]

Hi.

Saw you are taking requests.

I got shingles the weekend close to my birthday, i confuse it with allergy because i am allergic to basically anything and then on my 24th birthday i got that it was actually shingles, doctor told me that my immune system went down and that is why i got it. Before that i was under so much stress because of work that i developed burn out and had to quit my job (literally spent months, weeks of my life visiting the emergency ward because i kept getting sick due to stress and burn out) probably that Triggered the shingles.

Could you write something with Bucky in which the reader suffers similar sh**? I just need comfort from my fave character 😭

If you dont feel comfortable is fine, i understand 😁

KUDOS!

I'm so sorry you went through that! I hope you are much better now. I tried to make this as medically accurate as possible (I texted my friend in med school LOL) but I am definitely not a doctor so if some stuff isn't accurate, just pretend it is.

You threw your hair up into a ponytail to get it out of your face. Hours slumped over at your desk weren't doing any favors. You grabbed the energy drink and chugged it to prevent your eyes from closing. You were almost done with this assignment. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself. 

Working full time and being a grad student was taking a toll on you. You spent every day from 9-5 in your office and every night from 6-10 in classes. You crammed homework in anywhere you could, which often meant staying up most of the night. It was approaching 4am, now. 

The office door creaked open and Bucky strolled in, sleep still filling his eyes. “Baby,” he sighed. “Come to bed.” He had woken up and the bed was cold without you beside him. He walked over to you, kissing your forehead.

“Can’t,” you mumbled without looking up from your computer.

“You gotta get some sleep, darlin’.”

You sneezed, still typing away. “I’m fi-” your words were interrupted by another sneeze.

Bucky stood, looking at you with a stern expression. “Well look at that. You’re getting sick.” 

You waved your hand. “No, I’m not. It’s just allergies,” you said, sniffling. “You know this time of year is bad.” The past few months, you had been sick on and off multiple times. A cold, a small fever, you were sick more than you weren’t. 

“Honey, please just get some sleep. You haven’t slept in days.” He was practically begging. He knew how much stress you were under and getting no sleep wasn’t going to help. He was extremely worried about you.

“Just give me 10 more minutes, okay?” You compromised.

“Fine. But I’m sitting right here and setting a timer. The second it goes off, I’m carrying you to bed.”

He did exactly that, throwing you over his shoulder when you didn’t get up immediately at the ring of his phone. Despite the intense amounts of caffeine you had consumed, you fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

Bucky woke up before you the next morning, smiling at your sleeping form. Your hair was sprawled over your face and he gently pushed it away to kiss your cheek. But as soon as he moved the strands, he noticed that your cheeks were flushed. He put the back of his flesh hand on your skin. Heat radiated off of your face before he even touched you. You were definitely sick.

He got up, being careful not to wake you. He left the bedroom returning a few minutes later with water, Advil, and a thermometer. You groaned as your alarm rang, sending shooting pains into your skull. You groaned, opening your eyes. You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached, your throat was on fire, and even your skin hurt.

“You’re sick.” Bucky stated, as if he was informing you.

“Yeah, I can tell,” you retorted, wincing at the pain in every cell of your body. He smiled softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. 

“I got you some water and Advil. Can I take your temperature, doll?”

You nodded and he put the thermometer under your tongue. He looked it, eyes widening. “Shit baby, that’s not good. Your temp is 102.8. How do you feel?”

“Horrible,” you pouted.

He sighed. “I’m not surprised. That’s a really high fever, baby. I think we should go to the doctor.”

You groaned, not wanting to move. You felt so horrible that the thought of having to get up and out of bed was a nightmare. You felt like you couldn’t stay awake, eyes closing no matter how hard you tried to keep them open. “Can’t move,” you whispered, coughing slightly. “My whole body hurts so much. Just wanna sleep.”

Bucky didn’t know what to do. In his mind, sickness meant calling a doctor. He had spent so many years worrying about Steve back in the 40s, sitting with him while he got looked at. He still wasn’t used to how things were today. The google search he did on his phone told him that if your fever went above 103, to take you to the hospital. In his opinion, you were close enough that he wanted to rush you there right now, but he could see how exhausted you were.

“Alright, rest for now. But if it gets worse we’re going to the hospital.” You didn’t even hear him as you had already fallen back to sleep.

You woke up in a daze, cold sweat clinging to your body. You were shivering aggressively, shaking the entire bed. “Babe?” Bucky said, noticing you were awake. “You cold?”

You nodded, teeth chattering. He quickly grabbed you another blanket, wrapping you up like a burrito. He wrapped his arms around you, hoping that his body heat would help, too. One of the major perks of dating a super soldier was that the chances of getting him sick were very slim. He held you as close as possible, trying to keep you warm. “Oh, honey,” he whispered, voice dripping with sympathy.

 “Can you take your temperature again for me?” He asked after your shivering had subsided a little bit. You put the thermometer back in your mouth, waiting for the beep. Bucky took it from you, heart stopping as he looked. “I know you don’t wanna move, but we gotta go to the ER. You’re at 103.6. That’s really really bad.”

You groaned. You felt so horrible, his words barely even registered in your mind. He picked you up and carried you to the car, whispering words of encouragement along the way. You closed your eyes again, finding it physically impossible to stay awake. Bucky held your hand the entire car ride before picking you up and carrying you into the ER. He let you sleep as you waited, positioning your head on his shoulder. He constantly watched you to make sure you were still breathing. He didn’t wanna wake you until he absolutely had to.

When you were finally called in, he shook you gently. “Can you walk?” He asked. You weakly nodded and he helped you to your feet letting you lean on his body as you went to the exam room.

The doctor hooked you up to an IV immediately to hydrate your sick body as they examined you.

“How have you been sleeping?” She asked you.

“Um, not great,” you answered, voice sounding raspy. “I’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“She hasn’t slept in a week,” Bucky interjected. “She’s been getting sick a lot these past few months since she started grad school.”

The doctor nodded. “Okay that’s very good to know.” She proceeded to ask you a few more questions and then said, “Did you have chicken-pox as a kid?”

You nodded. “Yeah. When I was 5.”

She carefully rolled up your shirt, revealing a rash on your side. “It looks like you have shingles. The stress you’ve been under seems to have weakened your immune system which is why you’ve been getting sick so much. It makes sense that with all of that the virus would come back now.”

Bucky held your hand. He was relieved that you had a diagnosis but of course he was terrified. Back in his time, that would have been a death sentence. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Buck,” you answered. 

“Yes,” the doctor agreed. “We’re gonna keep her here for at least tonight because your fever is so high. But you will be okay.”

Bucky exhaled. “Oh, thank god.”

“Can I go to sleep now?” You asked the doctor. You were so exhausted.

“Yes. I’ll let you rest,” she smiled before leaving the room.

“I’m so sorry you feel so shitty,” Bucky said, holding your hand. “Will this make you take it easy?”

“I don’t know what I can do to change anything,” you said with tear filled eyes. “Literally the only time I have to get things done is in the middle of the night.”

He looked into your eyes. He wanted to help you so badly that his heart ached. He wanted you to be happy and healthy. “What if you quit your job?” He suggested. “You only took this as a temporary thing anyway. I know you don’t wanna stay there when you’re done with school.”

“I can’t not have a job, Bucky,” you argued.

“Baby,” he looked in your eyes. “Do you have any clue how much the Avengers pay me?” He smirked. “Trust me, you don’t need a job.” You opened your mouth to argue, ready to tell him that you didn’t need his money. “I know you’re your own person and you can make your own money. And one day, with that brain, you will make so much all on your own. But baby, you’re drowning. You’ve been sick more days than not the past few months. Please, let me take care of you. Just for a bit. I’d never tell you what to do and if you really wanna stay, you can. But you’re killing yourself, darling. And I can’t just sit back and watch as it happens. Just think about it. Please.”

You lazily smiled. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But not right now. Right now, I need to sleep.”

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

[haechansdoll]

meant to break? - ldh x y/n

Pairing : Lee Dongyuck x Reader

Description : Even if you barely know him any longer, he remains your first love.

Warnings : ex lovers, reader being called kitten, dom!haechan, eating out, fingering (f!recieving), playing with nipples, holding cum, dominating, edging, rough sex, haechan's a dick, cumming inside the reader.

A week of deadlines drained you to the point that you didn’t mind going to a get-together you got invited to, well the invitation is for all post-graduate students anyways. You don’t usually go to parties or any gatherings anymore since you started grad school but its fucking exhausting with all the meetings and papers to submit plus having to mark undergrad’s papers.

And instead of relaxing by letting go of all the things that have been wearing you down lately, you’re currently thinking of someone that has been bothering your mind these past few months.

Haechan.

You’re not sure if he’ll be there despite the fact that the gathering's for every department since he hated going to those during your earlier college days. Parties like this may look the same as the undergrad ones but the main difference is that this seems more cozy because everyone knows each other already rather than random strangers you meet on the latter.

You hate that you still think of him even in times when you're supposed to chill. Walking into the house that you don’t even know who the owner is, you spotted some of his friends which made you nervous because he’ll appear for sure any seconds later.

Haechan knows you're here. Hell the only reason he came to this gathering is because he knows that you'll finally come. Not that he's waiting, okay, yeah he is, so? Maybe he'll get a chance to finally talk to you.

You've encountered familiar people and chatted with them for a bit, catching up on some of them who you barely see on campus anymore. Haechan on the other hand is trying to hide from you, afraid that you'll leave when you see him here.

After some time, you walked into the kitchen looking for any booze, the need to get drunk taking over your mind. You paused, wait, you wanna get drunk but at the same time you don't wanna get drunk? What if you ran into Haechan and do stupid shits because of it. You know how you get when you're drunk but you can also use that as an excuse so..

With you getting lost in your own world weighing the pros and cons, you didn't realize someone approaching you, entering from the hallway.

Haechan thinks how cute you still are thinking deeply, eyebrows furrowed in concentration while staring down at the kitchen counter, this is one of the habits he most couldn't forget about you.

Silently, he enters the kitchen which is quieter than the living room he just left with, the rest of his friends and colleagues starting another drinking game that he has no interest in joining. You still didn't notice him so he'll make it not obvious that he already saw you earlier.

"Y/N?"

Fuck, you’ll always recognize that deep voice anywhere.

No way, no fucking way. It can't be him. He can't be here alone with you.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and turned around only to see someone who you've never thought you'll see this close again. And why is he this close to you wth.

“Lee Haechan” you responded flatly. That was too much of an effort for you to say after what happened between the two of you, more like what he did.

You and Haechan were not really lovers. Sure you have feelings for each other but you weren't official. It's not friends with benefits either because you weren't friends in the first place.

It's what they call MU, or mutual understanding.

You immediately hit it off each other when you locked eyes during lectures. You remember him being dismissive every time like nothing happened and you figured he was just shy so you made the first move.

Gradually, he warmed up along the way. With you showering him with affections non-stop and immediately laying out your intentions.You both do couple-y things more than what actual couples do, even saying "i love you" to each other so people around you actually assumed that you were together.

But then again, you weren't together so technically you both weren't obligated to fully commit and you were pretty stubborn to believe that it could work because you’re both grown-ups anyways but Haechan was on a different page as you.

"I didn't know you go here too" he smiled amusingly, scooting closer to you. With you getting flashbacks of what went wrong you didn’t stop him or moved away so he took it as a sign to continue.

Liar.

“Nice excuse Lee, but didn't know I had to inform you" you retorted, avoiding his eyes.

No way you're letting him see right through you, and you don’t know why you’re not even moving away from him.

"Cut the crap Y/N you've been avoiding me" he chucked humorlessly, gummies peeking out, ones that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

True. You've been dodging him ever since you found out he goes here too, if it weren't for your current situation you would've attended a different grad school for your masters but here we are.

"You know why, don't you" you stated coldly, still refusing to look at him. why are you talking to him in the first place?

This is why you’ve been avoiding him, you can’t really stay away from him when he’s near. There's always been a pull between you both, like magnets to each other. That’s what your friends always tell you when they see you and Haechan together. Maybe that’s the reason why somehow he always finds you somehow

You finally shifted your eyes on him, to his side profile noticing how he didn’t change much, just seems more mature.

"You're staring" he smirked as he turned to you.

"As if" you scoffed, now trying to distance yourself because you felt your heartbeat increasing already. He's literally cornering you so you can't even go anywhere.

"You haven't changed a bit" Haechan mused, eyes full of wonder while looking at you intently.

He's actually relieved that you're talking to him, he expected that you would just pretend like you didn't know him like you always do every time you see each other or when you were with colleagues.

"Oh I did" you snickered sarcastically, still avoiding his gaze. You’re not gonna look at his cat eyes that you always find cute. don’t get distracted, don’t get distracted, don’t get–

Haechan went closer to you, eyes hooded now. And that instantly changed to the mood you’re trying to avoid. He must've been drinking, he's usually not this forward unless he had a sip already or maybe he just changed.

"Hmm, wanna show me?" he winked, hands reaching out and started twirling your hair with his fingers and you gaped, frozen at your stance.

Screw him. But those fingers though, those damn veiny-

You gasped a little when he pushed your hair back on one side and felt his fingers tracing on your shoulders. Haechan's just playing around though, since the only way for you to respond to him is to irk you.

"Fuck off Haechan" you seethed and jerked his hand off of you. How dare? How dare he?

Haechan's clearly not in his right mind. He’s aware that you're still mad at him but what can he do? He's not gonna get any opportunity to fully reach out, not unless he starts now.

He didn't respond, still staring at you intently like he wanted to say more and then his other hand came up and did the same thing on your other shoulder. This time, you didn't shrug him off.

You know he's never been good with expressing through his words directly so you let him through his touches.

Truthfully, you miss him so you’ll listen, just for tonight.

.

His fingers descended from your shoulders to your arms, slightly touching the sides of your breasts and you started squirming. Why the hell did you wear a thin ass bralette tonight fuck.

Haechan waited for you to stop his hands, scream at him and pushed him away but you didn't. If not, you're starting to quiver and he can feel your soft breaths quickening.

You should stop him, you should but now you don't want to. Despite everything, you miss his touches and your resolve is already breaking as you're getting aroused with how he’s touching you. His fingers then continued tracing the outline of your breasts, fingers teasing while observing your reactions.

The moment the side of his forefinger grazed on your nipples, you gasped a little louder than you intended to, and that made Haechan smirked.

"Stop me" he whispered lowly, eyes going darker than before while eyeing your clothed tits, his tongue running over his lips. Fuck, your nipples are already this hard and he barely even started. He started pinching them, rolling the buds between the pads of his fingers while slowly kneading both of your breasts.

You couldn't answer and just sighed while closing your eyes as all you can think about is how good his hands feel. You're really this touch deprived, damn your workload for causing you to be too busy to get laid or even touch yourself.

You let out a small chuckle at that and Haechan noticed, eyes narrowing at you. Opening your eyes, they went down to his veiny fingers currently fondling your tits through your thin shirt. Dammit, he looks so hot focusing on them, his brows furrowing and he's now biting his lips.

"H-Haechan.." you moaned when he got bolder and started pinching your nipples roughly.

Thoughts of you ignoring him all this time resurfaced into Haechan's mind so he couldn't help how his touches suddenly became harsh.

"You miss me don't you?" he chuckled in a mocking manner and you just nodded lightly, hoping he'll do more which he didn’t notice.

Your lack of answer just added to Haechan's growing frustration, why tf won't you just admit it?. His demeanor changed and his hands went down to the hem of your shirt, trying to lift it up. But you've stopped his eager hands before he can expose your chest.

"We-we're in the kitchen" you stuttered, breathing heavily. He’s very close to you now that can feel how hard he is already, pressing into you shamelessly. His hands came up to your waist, trying to keep you steady when you couldn’t stop rubbing your knees together.

“I don’t care, everyone’s drunk anyways” he countered nonchalantly. You’re not sure if he’s actually drunk but you know Haechan, you know he would actually fuck you here so before he can proceed you immediately dragged him out of the kitchen towards the quieter part of the house.

You both are still walking in a rush through the hallways when he hastily yanks you back to him, instantly pressing you to the wall behind you. A sly smirk appeared on his handsome face and you whined. His face went closer, staring at your eyes deeply and you closed them, waiting for him to kiss you.

But he didn’t and instead his lips touched the side of your jaw for a bit, you can feel his breath tracing down to your neck while his hands went under your skirt, touch lingering on your skin nearing your ass. Your hands landed on his firmed chest, feeling him through his shirt but it’s not enough. You noticed that his body became buffer too, holyshit.

“There’s a nearest door-” a slap on your ass made you yelped, and you stared back at Haechan in daze when his hands started kneading them after. You open your legs for a silent invitation, simpering cause he’s finally going to give you what you want.

"Shit.." you hissed when Haechan harshly tugged your underwear and your eyes widened in alarm at the thought of him ripping it because it’s a bit expensive.

"No" you whimpered and he sighed impatiently, dragging your panties down through your legs instead. Knowing what he's planning, you helped him by adjusting your skirt higher to your upper waist.

"Fuck, you wore my favorite" he said softly, voice throaty. The way he’s eyeing your lacy, dark red underwear in his hands made you flush. Looking up to your face, you saw how his eyes are changing from the slight longing to sudden anger along with the lust that's already on them.

"Haechan" you whispered desperately. You're already so wet and he looked so sexy kneeling in front of you but you're wondering why he's suddenly annoyed.

“You were planning to get laid tonight weren’t you?” he hissed.

“N-No” you meekly responded. Well you didn’t really plan on getting any tonight, you just decided to wear them just in case.

“Don’t lie to me Kitten” you stiffened, eyes going wide while your heart’s thrumming with confusion. He’s calling you Kitten again, like he used to. He’s drunk, he’s still drunk for sure.

And before you could even respond, he suddenly planted his lips on your inner thigh. Haechan misses you, misses eating you out, misses how you crumble under his tongue.

Tracing his lips on your skin made you shiver as you felt them nearing your core. Haechan reached the apex of your pussy and you eagerly pushed your hips forward, much to his pleasure.

“Behave” he snickered, leaning in and slowly running his tongue on your slit. You moaned at the feeling, hands instantly grabbing his hair which he slapped away. You looked down at him only to find his eyes already fixing at you.

Never breaking eye contact, he slowly moves his tongue on your pussy like he's making out with it. You couldn't look away, there's something about Haechan staring at you intensely while eating you out that makes you wanna stay put. It’s also because you’re afraid he will stop if you look away.

His hands are back on your legs, prying them open when you tried closing them after his tongue started flicking your clit harshly. You’re dripping so much as you can see your juices smearing on his lips already, some of them running down on his neck.

"..so..good..fuck.." you moaned in small breaths, closing your eyes and slowly grinding your hips on his tongue. Trying to balance yourself against the wall while your knees are getting weak is somehow turning you even more.

Haechan's beaming as of the moment. His eyes roamed your beautiful face while your eyes were closed. He's glad that you’re letting him pleasure you like this. Fuck ,he's getting harder every time he feels your pussy clenching on his mouth.

"Pretty pussy" he murmured and you opened your eyes when you felt his fingers running up lightly on your thighs.

"Please" you whined impatiently, begging for his fingers. You didn't want to since his tongue's already enough to make you cum and you're almost there but greed consumed you so now you want his fingers too.

"Not enough Kitten? What is it?" he chuckled, blowing his breath on your sensitive pussy and you squirmed. Fuck him and the cocky smile now on his face. You glared at him but then he slowly removed his hands so you panicked.

"Fingers!" you cried desperately. "Please fuck me with your fingers" you whined, hips moving unconsciously and Haechan smirked. Leaning in again, his tongue is back on your core, pressing even harder that makes you clench around nothing, you just want his fingers inside you!

You thought Haechan would ignore your request until you felt his finger eased on your entrance. You’re so wet and close already, so you moved one of your hands from the wall to your breasts, alternating in flickering your nipples through your thin shirt in hopes of convincing Haechan to slip the rest of his fingers into you.

And it worked. After Haechan saw how needy you’ve become he added another finger, arching it up and then pumping it in and out slowly while his tongue seemed to increase its pace in working on your clit.

Your moans are getting louder and Haechan senses that you’re getting closer with how tight your walls have become around his fingers.

“Don’t cum” he ordered, pace going slower but somehow deeper.

“B-but I’m close!” you cried, hips grinding faster on his face. Surely, everyone can hear you but you didn’t even care that you’ve been moaning loudly on this empty hallway anymore.

“I said don’t cum” his voice stern, adding another finger into you. Your body feels like its on fire, Haechan’s fingers fucking you leisurely while his tongue is doing the opposite on your bud.

“Neediest..pussy..” he muttered, emphasizing each word through each stroke of his fingers.

Your core’s aching already, your release nearing.Haechan’s fingers suddenly went faster. Fuck, you’re almost there,

Almost...and then–

“What the fuck Haechan!!” you cried when he pulled out his fingers and was about to grab his head back to you but he caught your wrist, tightly gripping them.

"That's your punishment for ignoring me," he said coldly, getting up from his knees and dragging you towards the nearest door.

"I hate you" you seethed. Stupid, you should've known he'll eventually get back to you for ignoring him.

He immediately opened it, pushing you inside.Your legs are still wobbly from your denied orgasm but you managed to somehow walk near the bed, steps staggering until you dropped on the edge making Haechan scoffed.

"You hate me huh?" you can feel him behind you at once and you move your hips back desperately, urging him to do something since all you can think about is the need to cum.

“H-Haechan” you whimper when you feel his hands lift your skirt further above your ass.

His fingers started tracing around your exposed core before he inserted two of them back inside, scissoring them slowly.

Moaning loudly you shamelessly bucked your hips back to his fingers only for him to swing his other hand on your ass, rough hand landing a slap that made you arch your back.

“Ugh-!”

"You hate me but your pussy's soaking for me" he snickered and removed his fingers all of a sudden, making you whine.

Haechan ignored you and fumbled his belt, quickly pushing his pants down. He's had enough and as much as he's pissed off at you he can't stop himself in admiring you in your current position. You bending sexily on the bed, your pretty needy eyes looking back at him making him groan at the sight.

You're losing your mind, that’s it. All you want is Haechan's dick inside you but you're also anxious that he's gonna deny you some more. As you can see, he still loves teasing you because you're usually the impatient one between the two of you.

Hands back on you he roughly grabbed your hips, pulling your shaky body up against him. You can feel how hard he is on your ass already, grinding slowly against them. You can sense his breath increasing and you’re getting annoyed because you know he won't budge until you beg. screw it..

"Haechan, please fuck me" you moaned airily using the neediest voice you can muster and that snapped something inside him. He almost slipped, getting lost at the floral scent on your skin to notice that he’s getting softer on you.

He hummed and you instantly felt both of his hands cupping your breasts roughly from behind, his lips harshly kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder blades. He can feel you chuckling lightly, your current situation making you giddy with how you both are still semi-clothed and so needy for each other in this dark, stranger’s room.

Haechan noticed and released you, tugging you shirt impatiently, signalling you to take them off. Once gone along with your bra, you turned to face him, enjoying the sight of him staring appreciatively at your tits. You giggled at his reaction causing your breasts to jiggle, the action that made Haechan look up to you with a puzzling, dark expression full of lust.

He turned you back around and pushed you back to the bed, making you squeak as you crawl on your knees. He sees that you’re trying to take your skirt off so he swatted your hands away.

“Leave them on” he sighed, full of authority.

You paused, the thought of Haechan fucking you on your skirt made you clench. You’ll never be able to wear this again without thinking of him, maybe that's what he wanted? After getting rid of his boxers, he didn’t move immediately as he’s getting distracted by your glistening folds twitching, begging for his cock.

You whimpered, losing patience with all his teasing but you sighed in relief the moment you felt the tip of his length slowly entering you. You thought he's going to be gentle but then you feel him ram himself fully into you, bottoming out, causing you to moan loudly.

You see, Haechan initially planned to be gentle with you, to let you adjust to his size but he again recalls the moments where you pretended that you didn't know him, the way you didn't even look at him. Anger now back on his veins he grips your hips tight, pulling you back to him as he starts his brutal thrusts, grinning at the thought of bruises that are surely gonna be there for days.

"Haechan..oh fuck!" you cried, in a high-pitched whine that Haechan oh so love. You’re trying to stay put but your thighs are already trembling from earlier and the way how hard he is fucking you right now are making them even weaker.

Your peak is coming fast with you being denied earlier and you can feel it’s going to be more intense than the one prior. Every slight touch from him sends sparks to your core, pushing you closer into it. You just hope that Haechan will let you cum this time, him denying you earlier made everything in your senses heightened, your entire body humming with electricity.

Haechan's never been vocal in the bedroom so you were glad to hear his grunts that seemed to be getting louder every time you clench around his cock. He's getting mesmerized at how good you look like this, moaning and gripping tightly on the sheets while he's pounding you from behind.

"..so..fucking..tight..didn't get laid much after me?" he chuckled mockingly and slowed his pace, each thrust emphasizing each word. He moaned deeply when he can feel your slick walls tightening and thrusted even harder allowing him to reach the deepest parts of you making you scream the moment he reached your spot. Your mind's hazy now, couldn't even answer Haechan with how he's picking up his speed.

Your arms finally buckled with the force of thrusts, making you turn your face to the side when you landed on the bed, your breaths are getting faster matching each of Haechan's hard thrusts. He planted his right leg on the bed and grabbed your left arm, binding it behind your back while his other arm grabbed your hips tightly, bringing you closer to the edge.

In this position, you couldn't see him but you can picture Haechan’s current state. His head falling back, mouth hanging open, emitting guttural moans as he’s getting lost at the sensation of your walls.

"I'm gonna cum..ngghh...Haechan.." you gasped, becoming breathless and he faltered on his pace. He snapped his attention down at you, irked eyes now observing your body, waiting for the perfect timing. You should've just kept your mouth shut because now you feel him suddenly pulling out from you, denying you again.

"No! No! Haechan!" you shrieked and sobbed after, your body shaking with how intense your climax was going to be. He couldn't see your face properly at this angle, but he knows you’re close to your breaking point. A smug smile appeared on his face, pleased with his effects on you. He wanted you to remember this, just in case you’ll ignore him again.

"On your back. I want to see your face when you cum" he said with urgency, his own peak also nearing. He’s always been good at holding himself, it’s just that he’s been so hard for a while already. You sniffled and scurry around right away, getting on your back and blatantly opening your legs.

You can finally see Haechan in full glory under the moonlight through the windows. Your eyes landed on his flushed face and the sheen sweat glistening his body. You bit your lower lip when you looked down at his length. It's so hard and red, slightly twitching as he climbed on the bed.

"You're so hot" you mused, eyes fluttering at him and removing your crumpled skirt.

Instead of answering, a lopsided smirk just emerged from his lips as he settled between your legs. You immediately wrapped them around his waist but he slapped your thighs, removing your legs around him, is it because you removed your skirt? You choked a whimper when he just kept staring at you with unreadable eyes.

"H-Haechan.." you whined, arms latching on his shoulders, urging him to fuck you again. He roughly shrugged them off which made you pout, why doesn't he want you to touch him? Your eyes widened when you realized he's waiting. He's waiting for you to say it. Fuck it. It's what your heart truly says anyways.

"I miss you Haechan..I miss your touch, your kisses, your co–" you screamed in pleasure when he suddenly shoved his dick inside you. He didn’t have to let you adjust because of how wet you are already, your slick allowing him enter you easily. Rough snaps of his hips against yours are making your tits jiggle and his hands are instantly on them, kneading them roughly just like his thrusts.

Haechan wants you to feel how angry he is, how hurt he is of you "forgetting" him. He's glad that you can read his expression very well until now and you were right, he was waiting for you to admit it.

He scoffed when your moans are getting louder. Your eyes closing at immense pleasure he's giving you, back arching when he hits that spot inside you.

"Look at you, squeezing my cock.." he moans but he stopped himself from whining.Your pussy's gripping him so hard, so fucking good, still so good for him.

"Open your eyes Kitten" he growled and set his weight on one of his forearms, the other coming right up wrapping around on your throat. Your whine turned into gasps, feeling the pressure of his hand around the base increasing.

"Still my Kitten" he muttered, looking at you darkly as he got lost in his own pleasure. His breath is staggering, matching your loud gasps.

"Always my Kitten, right?!" he seethes with heavy breaths, voice getting raspier as he removes his hand from your neck. You inhaled sharply, struggling to answer him.

"Yes! Yes! Still your Kitten, always your Kitten!" you sobbed so loud as you finally reach your high, Haechan groaning at the sight of you. You can tell that he’s also close, by how his pace is getting sloppier every passing second. You’re still confused as to why he doesn’t let you touch him but you don’t give fuck anymore.

“Shit..” he groaned at how tight you’ve become. Your walls now very sensitive after him continuously pounding on you nonstop, riding out your orgasm. He’s itching to hold you but he persisted. He doesn’t want you touching him because your touches will make his anger go away. 

Then he felt your legs closing around his waist again, way tighter this time. He knew you have no intention of letting go so dropped his head down, crashing his lips harshly on yours. You let out a gasp, surprised of his sudden action but you welcomed his rough kisses wholeheartedly.

Haechan's pouring all what he's feeling on you, all the need, the desperation, the apology that he couldn't express through his words. However, you perceived his actions differently, thinking that he must’ve really hated you. Haechan felt something wet against his cheeks, noticing your tears. He's not sure if it's because of how hard he's fucking you or something else.

“In me..Haechan please..” you gasped desperately, wanting to feel everything of him.

"Fuck!" he whined, hips faltering in pace with his guttural moans. Haechan couldn't hold back that much longer and you moaned loudly, pussy throbbing as you feel his cum spilling into you.

Riding out both your highs, you're trying to look up to him despite your exhaustion and impending sleepiness but he didn't even spare you a glance.

Actually, Haechan could tell you were going to say something but just waiting for him to look back at you which he wouldn't.

Not now, not yet. 

He wants to savour this moment. He feels satisfied after almost a year of trying, and here you are finally lying beautifully underneath him.

You want to know what he truly feels and you can see through his eyes especially that he is being himself right now like when you were still "together".

"Haechan?"

He closed his eyes and didn't answer you. Instead, he pulled out himself causing you to whine with the empty feeling. He plopped down beside you wordlessly, facing his back at you and you noticed that his breathing was already slowing down.

You sighed, some things never change.

.

The first thing you noticed is an arm around your waist after you opened your eyes in an unfamiliar room.

Right, Haechan.

You feel him beside you but you didn't dare to look at him when you felt him move. No doubt of what happened, you weren't drunk so you remembered everything.

Fuck.

You decided to look at the person beside you to find him sleeping deeply while facing you. Very adorable and soft looking compared to what he was the night before. You just didn't think that he would cuddle you this morning though so now you're confused.

Wait, he was drunk. That means he won't remember anything that happened. It's perfect since you don't really want to confront him right now. You should've gotten drunk too because you're still not ready to "talk to him" about it.

Haechan knows you're awake. Actually, he planned to wake up before you just in case and it seems that he's right. You really are going to sneak out from him. He felt a pang in his chest at how dismissive you are after last night.

Slowly, you're trying to lift his arm which somehow got tighter on its hold on you.

Fuck, you really need to leave and fast since he seems to be waking up already. You barely managed to succeed prying off his arm when suddenly–

"So, you were a good lay" he said dryly, immediately removing his arm around you.

You suddenly stiffened with the loss of his warmth and you're trying your best to not get affected when his voice is way deeper than usual and still groggy from being asleep.

"Uh I don't remember what happened" you shrugged, trying to make your voice as stable as possible though it came out weak. so much for lying...

"Bullshit, you barely drank cause you hate alcohol anyways" he scoffed, laughing at himself for assuming that there's finally progress seeing as you accepted him last night.

"I thought you were drunk" you snickered, slowly getting off the bed looking for your discarded clothes. Haechan didn't even move an inch, but you can literally feel his burning stare while you're putting your clothes back on.

"I only had a few sips" he counters, propping up to his elbow now and your eyes are looking everywhere aside from him which made Haechan smirked. Shit, what he would give to take you again.

"You still are tipsy, we both are so can you not", you muttered harshly, still not looking at him while dressing up and putting on your ankle boots. Haechan's shamelessly staring at your legs, he can't help that you still look sexy this early in the morning.

"You were gonna sneak out weren't you?" you flinched when his tone seemed hard, full of accusation. You don't know why you feel guilty when you shouldn't. So what if you did plan on sneaking out? The audacity of him when he was being an ass last night.

"Fuck you Haechan" you seethed, masking your nervousness. You know he's trying to delay you, because he wanted to talk about it. Add that his milky chest is in your view that is clearly clouding your mind, stupid blanket coming off..

"That I did to you, ‘y couldn't stop screaming my name" he humorlessly laughed, still hurt at how you're desperately running away from him after everything. Haechan's running out of options hence why he was so relieved last night, thinking that you're finally giving him a second chance.

"What makes you think you have the right to get mad hmm?" you lightly screamed, looking up and staring directly into his eyes. You're being mindful of others who stayed over like you both that are still probably sleeping.

But you don't fucking care now, you don't care anymore.

"I told you–"

"You were the one who dropped me out of nowhere before!" you cried, your emotions now bursting like a geyser. Haechan sighed, hopelessly thinking of how he's going to articulate his words that would not make you even more furious.

"You don't understand," he said flatly, now avoiding your eyes.

"Then make me!", you're heaving with anger right now. He's starting again, he's doing it again. Pushing you away by being vague and it confuses tf out of you. And he's even worse this time, you really thought he’ll change for the better.

Haechan didn't plan it like this, he was supposed to ask you for another chance and make love to you again just like the night before. You both are going to be together again but you just had to remind him the very reason why he did what he did back then.

"Leave Y/N" Haechan stated, voice laced with finality. He leaned back to the bed, facing away from you. Haechan doesn't know why he's suddenly nervous about this topic when eventually, you both have to talk about it.

You don't know what to actually feel right now. Haechan's the only person who can make you feel all emotions at once to the point that you can't even differentiate them anymore.

"No! I want you to continue, you can't just run from this" he wanted to talk? Then you both will talk. But now he's backing out? Like what the actual fuck does he want from you.

"What? You wanna fucking leave, then leave!" he yelled back and you blinked in surprise. Haechan never ever raised his voice at you, let alone yell at you.

As much as you didn't wanna cry in front of him, still looking fucked out in this stranger's room, you still couldn't stop the tears from emerging in your eyes.

Haechan glanced back at you from the side of his shoulder when you didn't answer him and his expression softened when he saw you on the verge of tears.

You started crying. You're literally crying and he didn't even move from the bed but at least you saw how his features changed into worry, at least.

Haechan was going to get up and comfort you, he was going to–

"What's the point? It's not like we were actually together anyways" you whispered, but Haechan blanched, pausing on his movements when he noticed the emptiness of your voice. Haechan’s even more hurt now, to hear those exact words from you.

And instead of soothing you he decided to ignite the fire by picking the part of your relationship where you have been the most insecure about.

“Right, you were just a part of my quests"

His words sting. It fucking stings that you didn’t realize the loud sob that came out from your mouth. He’s your first love after all, first in everything. He’s not just some random guy you had a quick relationship with. What you both had might not be official but you know you loved each other.

Haechan refused to look at you because you’ve always been his weakness. Now he’s only focusing on getting dressed to get the fuck out here immediately and he doesn’t know if he still wants to keep trying. Clearly, you don’t want him anymore but you still confuse him with your pained expressions so he doesn’t know what to think anymore.

You’re losing him, you know you’re losing him and despite the sharp words he just said you can’t deny that you still love him. You hate how you’re willing to stoop this low for him.

After checking his phone, Haechan hurriedly dressed up and passed right through you but your desperate plea stopped him, for a bit. 

“Wait!” you yelped quietly, voice lace in panic but then he continued walking away, not even looking back at you.

He just...did last night even mean anything to him?

Haechan’s being a dick, he knows he is but his heart’s racing as well for not being in control of the situation. He should’ve been prepared but he needs to get away for now, he needs a break to plan his next move or does he have to though? He ruined his chances again.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying silently in that bedroom but you know the owner’s going to wake up soon so you need to leave before anyone sees you in this state. You also just realized that you didn't have your panties on but you're a mess so you didn't give a fuck when you couldn't find it in the room or in the hallway.

Haechan must’ve had it..

But you can’t see him again..

Not anymore..

You’re just tired with everything, physically and mentally and you just want to forget Haechan for now because you’re close to going back again, back to how you were when he left you.

Will you be able to avoid him next time though?

[petalssunwards]

written for @wait-whos-batman DCU Valentine's Day event! It's all over the place, mostly because Jason is high - though there isn't any explicit mention of drugs other than one or two sentences!

It's desi!reader. Lemme know if you want links to movie/song/string ornament! Jay quoting the Hobbit because that's my obsession these days!

You weren’t concerned when the racket at your door started. A little confused, perhaps, because usually Jay loved giving you heart attacks via jumpscares. However, this was hardly the first time he had tried to pick a fight with your apartment door.

The first time it had occurred, you two weren’t exactly friends - just classmates who collaborated on assignments. It hadn’t stopped him from waking you up at 3 am with his insistent knocking. He had then raved on about the brilliant fucker who almost had him believe in a hopeful ending to Romeo-Juliet and why the heartbreak is his due in this existence. You just let him have it after you figured out he had been talking about the movie goliyon ki raasleela ram-leela. It wasn’t like he was wrong and did apologize for barging in after running out of steam. He was the only person in grad school who spoke decent Hindi and you weren’t letting him go.

Your friendship over shared cups of masala tea had taught you three things about Jay:

1. was a hopeless romantic and always cursed out tragic endings

2. His eyes glowed green during his impassioned speeches

3. He loved dramatic entrances which ranged anywhere from silent to boisterous.

Hence you weren’t particularly worried when something metallic thudded against your door, adding the clanking of your string ornament in the mix. But when the door finally opened - you just gawked at the glowing red helmet in astonishment.

“What the everloving fuck” Yes - that summed up your sentiments pretty well.

“The key works” Red Hood’s distorted voice offered in lieu of an answer.

“I am on the quest - a perilous one”  He proclaimed.

You definitely never handed apartment keys to the vigilante in question. The only person you trusted enough to have it was your best friend from college - Jay Todd Peterson.

Fuck - did Red Hood get the key from Jay? Why would Jay?  Did he hurt Jay for them??

You stupidly stared at the Red Hood trying to make sense of the situation. The fuck was he talking about??  You hadn’t realized you verbalized your thought until Red Hood responded.

 “You told me I can crash here if I want -”  Could a mechanical voice be pouting?? 

“Guess not - “ he murmured as his shoulders drooped, his whole body sagging in defeat as he turned to leave.

This was a gesture you recognized - it was Jay equivalent of puppy dog eyes - the one he had perfected to use as a lethal weapon so that you would be swayed to do his bidding. It was like watching a sad labrador, always tugging at your heartstrings.

“Jay?” you hazarded a guess and Red Hood turned around - arms crossed on his chest in the classic ‘I’m stubbornly sulking - but you have to figure out the problem ’ pose.

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” You grumbled and struggled to drag your best friend - who seemed more interested in patting your head -inside.

“I am on a perilous quest -” Jay declared again once he settled on the couch and without the distorted voice modulator it didn’t sound like a malevolent threat.

You tried to hold your laughter but the sight of Jay sprawled on your couch, wringing his hands like a punished child and quoting The Hobbit was adorable.  (If one disregarded several weapons on his person). The green of his irises was barely visible but other than that there weren’t any injuries.

You nodded dumbly - some part of your brain stuck on your best friend being a crimelord. He didn’t need any prompting because he continued in a solemn voice,

“I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, a partner in crime you could say, and it's very difficult to find anyone.”

Whoever had drugged him (you suspected Ivy ), clearly had thrown him for a loop. It would be better if he stayed here instead of galavanting off on the streets, ruining Red Hood’s badass reputation. So you fetched him water and midnight snacks, settling in for the show. This should be fun.

“Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you.” You played along and were rewarded with a bright smile. 

“There is nothing like looking if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.” He fired off.

“And what would you be looking for, kind sir?” you asked, struggling to match the serious tone of his voice.

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be re - repe- re-p re-ss-ed." Jay flopped on his back with his head in your lap, when he failed to properly speak in an over-the-top British accent.

“I always wanted to be in love you know??” his whisper was so soft and you strained to hear him.

“I want someone just for me. Where one is in love even before they know it. I want love like Arwen loves Aragorn, wholeheartedly - all good and bad, worse and worst!. No takebacks! Someone who is there always supporting me, loving me. I want to hold on to them. Like you know - they would be the absolutely best decision I would ever make. But good decisions aren’t exactly my forte.” He rambled as if confessing a sin.

You opted for listening to him, reciprocating his trust by safeguarding his secrets deep in your heart, and continued running your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He heaved a contented sigh with closed eyes, burrowing closer and for a moment you thought he had fallen asleep.

Jay had never opened up quite like this. Listening to him divulge his deepest-held thoughts while high as a kite, felt like cheating. He wouldn’t want you to know his secrets, but then again that ship had sailed when he had shown up at your doorstep in the Red Hood regalia.

Maybe this was something he had to get off his chest?

“wo haseen murti pyaar ki, milegi muze kabhi naa kabhi… muze jiske pyaar pe ho yakeen; wo pari, wo hoor, wo nazaneen” he hummed the mangled a song under his breath. 

“Sing that song to me.” he nudged your knee, “The one where they flap like birds.”

He irritated you until you crooned it, chiming in whenever he remembered the lyrics.

“Why am I Arkenstone?” You wondered aloud. Jay’s erratic mood affecting you as well. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t considered a possible romantic dynamic between you two, but Jay always had some invisible boundary he would never cross.

“Have I told you how much I admire you?” He clutched your other hand in both of his. He softly placed it on his beating heart.

“Your soul shines like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon!” 

“Because you are a great and wondrous jewel. And I would go mad if I ever lost you to anyone else!”  he answered simply and sincerely, borrowed eloquent quotes long forgotten.

“Would you love me even if I were Gollum?” He questioned sleepily, his thoughts running away from him again.

You peered at him for any lie, but his heartbeat didn’t even waver under your palm. He was relaxed as if he hadn’t just tilted your world. What were you going to do with this silly man?

You wanted to ask him if he really meant it or if it was just a rambling of a drugged man. You didn’t have the mental capacity to unpack all the implications tonight.

“Yes, I would,” you whispered against his hair, softly kissing his forehead. "very much so, good and bad, worse and worst!"

There would be a lot of hard conversations the next morning, but tonight you would dream about this absurd man wrapped in your arms.

[talesfrommedinastation]

Redneck Doug watches 'The Bad Batch: A Different Approach'

Believe it or not, this episode started the first real argument between Doug and I!

Hope y'all enjoy it.

CW: Language and Doug is surprisingly critical of fat folks, despite the fact that he's from one of the least healthy states in the USA, has a massive beer gut, and can put away a whole rack of ribs and multiple barbeque fixin's in one sitting. I've seen it in person, folks. We were snipping at each other over fatphobia, glass houses, and the merits of The Treasure State after this.

I might have sacrificed my invitation to his St Patrick's Day party as a result. Oh well.

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

Episode 4: “Adventures in Space Montana” 

(image from @ladyzirkonia)

And we’re starting off with Little Orphan Blondie behind the wheel of a stolen vehicle because the girl is every inch her hillbilly brothers family.

Why is the plane on fire? Does this end like Alive? I thought ships couldn’t burn in space, I mean, I studied engineering, worked in oil, girl I remember Event Horizon.

Whelp, they crashed in a cold-ass field with some pointy mountains behind them. Clearly Montana. Maybe there’s a national park nearby and they can go hiking.

Aw, no, Mutant Jimmers is stuck behind Daddy Warcrimes’s seat! Let the ol girl out before she pees all over the spare tire!

Did they bring their guns? Hope they did. This is Montana, the Texas of the north, except you can’t find the bodies anywhere. If I was gonna go and murder someone, I’d pick Montana after Alaska.  

(Pictured: Omega and Crosshair are somewhere in this picture)

A sketchy cold-ass town where everyone’s gambling, there’s too much military trash wandering around and you see your breath even inside the bar? Yup, definitely Montana. 

(“Montana is not like that! I’ve been there multiple times! I almost went to grad school at UM and the kayaking, skiing, hiking, and breweries are amazing!” - Me, defending a state I have never lived in

“Yeah, but have you been to Butte? Thought I was gonna go get eaten by the locals there.” - Doug

::proceed to bicker and fight via texts about the many merits and demerits of the Big Sky State::)

Aw yeah, Daddy Warcrimes and Little Orphan Blondie got new clothes. Smart man, covering his face, Daddy Warcrimes. He totally looks like me when I gotta rake the lawn in November. I like that sweater, think they’ll sell them at Disneyland? 

And they’re back to gambling. See! I told you this was Montana! They even have a gun rack!

Look at Little Orphan Blondie taking down fools with some cards! I bet Ryan-from-Accounting is smiling watching from Heaven or wherever he’s fighting the Space Balrog to come back as Space Gandalf. 

Oh who is this fat fuck. Lord a mercy, is he the one fat imperial we have ever seen? Man I tell you what I bet he’s too hefty to ride in an AT-AT and that’s why they sent him to Space Montana, thinking the hiking and eating venison and berries will slim that brother up.

Maybe Vader will force him to run while carrying Palpatine like we did to other recruits in the Navy. 

Nope, he’s gambling with a little girl in a bar, because the Empire just can’t follow rules now can it. That don’t make any sense. I’m with you, Daddy Warcrimes, giving that sour puss to everyone. I would too. 

And now Officer Fat Fuck is gone done taking money from a child who beat him fair and square. Yup, he works for the government, all right. I bet he manages the Empire’s DMV.

Creepy little street boy wants some cash to tell them where they took Mutant Jimmers. I don’t blame the boy, it looks like no one wants to buy his shitty watermelon and he ain’t got a face.

Why in the hell are there so many animals in crates and shit here? They starting a zoo or something? Is it all to feed Officer Fat Fuck? I need info on this. 

Shit yeah, fire them guns, Daddy Warcrimes! It’s your time to shine, big boy!

Oh yeah they freed Mutant Jimmers! And everybody else. Oh man, is that a kraken? Whelp, its dinner tonight is Officer Fat Fuck. Good on ya, kraken, you may be named after the world’s worst hockey team but ain’t bad all the time now. 

(pictured: they keep losing games but hey they at least eat imperial officers?)

Gotta fry some dumb Imperial while you’re leaving, of course. Why they wearing them goggles when they got helmets on? Shit, real dumb. Don’t like the Inspector Gadget trench coats either, those can get caught real quick in a door and that’s how you get shot and all. 

Ah yeah, they saved their cash, grabbed a ship, and they’re off to the moon! There they go! 

DADDY RAMBO LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE JULIO AND DADDY WARCRIMES ALL BACK TOGETHER! OH MY LORD MEAT MUFFIN I AIN’T EXPECTING THIS THIS EARLY! WOW! 

(image from @dreamswithghosts)

And Mutant Jimmers is with them too. It’s a good day on the moon! 

Tagging Doug's fans of course: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified

[here2bbtstrash]

park and ride (explicit)

genre: smut

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: your fuckbuddy asks if the two of you can drive around a bit first, but he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself

word count: 4.8k

contains: explicit sexual content bb! idol verse, fuckbuddies, teasing while driving, semi-public sex (aka fuckin in a car), fingering, squirting, a smidge of size kink, also joon really likes your skirt

A/N: inspired by that ~mysterious extra day~ in america and joon posting Fast Car by Syd on his story (which, btw, TASTE) - this is also on AO3 if you'd rather read it over there!

For your own sanity, you try to stay busy. You go for a long run every morning to clear your mind. You delete Twitter from your phone and get two weeks ahead on your grad school assignments. You go out for drinks with friends and pepper them with questions about their own personal dramas.

But all the while that glimmer of hope in your chest remains, impossible to extinguish entirely. You know by now to keep your expectations low, very low. Just because he’s on this side of the world doesn’t mean he’ll have time to see you, and most of the time, he doesn’t. You figure there’s no point in obsessing over something that’s out of your control.

But this time is one of those rare occasions where the stars align and the universe decides to throw you a good turn, and you can’t help the smile that breaks across your face when he calls.

“I got an extra day. Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Hmm… yeah, I should be able to pencil you in,” you joke.

The celebrity part of it is still pretty bizarre, but you’ve done this enough now that it’s become its own weird little routine. Pulling up to a hotel where the nightly rate costs more than your monthly share of rent. Handing the valet the keys to your shitty Honda Civic. Checking in at the front desk and giving the alias the group is booked under, which changes every trip. Showing your ID so they can confirm you’re on the approved list of visitors. Having a special room key made that allows you access to their restricted hotel floor. Just all part of the process.

And that’s not even mentioning the one time you were personally escorted by a bodyguard to his room; you wondered on the elevator ride up how much time their security staff spends ushering fuckbuddies in and out. You’ve decided that maybe you don’t want to know the answer to that one.

So it’s a surprise when he asks on the phone, “Can you pick me up instead this time? We don’t have to go anywhere special, maybe just drive around a bit? I’m so sick of hotel rooms.”

“Is this all a ploy to stop me from raiding your minibar?”

He laughs softly. “Oh don’t get me wrong. I definitely still plan on taking you back to my room and…” He trails off, well aware that he doesn’t need to explicitly finish the sentence. “Well, you know. Just need some fresh air first, I think.”

You decide you’ve given him enough sass for one phone call and bite back the urge to argue that he’s not actually taking you anywhere, as you’re the only one with a license in this situationship.

“Yeah, sure. I can do that.”

~*~

Never in a million years would you have ever thought you’d have Kim Namjoon riding shotgun in your car, the seat pushed back as far as it can go to accommodate his long legs.

He’d slipped out of the front door of the hotel looking as nondescript as possible in a black hoodie and shorts, face hidden almost entirely by a black facemask and a bucket hat pulled down low over his eyes. You pause, hands still on the wheel, wondering if you should expect some kind of greeting. This is so far outside the realm of your normal interactions that you have no established protocol to follow.

“It’s good to see you, let’s get out of here.” He says softly, and you take that as your cue to shift gears and follow the road out of the hotel entrance.

Namjoon seems tense, you think as you pass through an intersection. He keeps switching between checking his phone, looking out the passenger-side window, then turning over his shoulder to look at the traffic behind you.

“Sorry,” he explains, “Not trying to be rude. Just being careful.” That’s when it finally registers in your mind that he’s making sure you’re not being followed, and the thought sends a shiver of fear up your spine. The fact that this is a regular part of life for him is so strange.

The city is fairly deserted tonight, and when you stop at the next red light you can see him visibly relax a little, unlooping his mask from around his ears and tucking it into his pocket along with his phone. He slips his hat off as well and tosses it in the backseat, pulling down the visor to make sure his hair looks good in the tiny mirror. You try to suppress a laugh; surely this man knows that he already rolls out of bed looking fine as hell, no adjustments necessary.

He flips the visor closed and catches you staring at him, and a thrum of desire runs through you. Has he managed to get hotter since the last time you saw him? You didn’t think that was possible.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leaning over to cup your jaw with one hand and bring you in for a kiss.

This is your favorite part of these reunions—remembering all the little things you’d forgotten since the last time. Like how big and warm his hands are, how hungrily he kisses you. It isn’t until an impatient horn blaring snaps you back to reality that you remember you were stopped at a red light, which is now very much green. Judging by the way the driver behind you is laying on the horn, it’s been green for a while.

“Fuck, oops.” You move to pull away but he keeps his hand on your jaw, holding you in place, your lips inches apart. His eyes are dark with pure want as he stares at your mouth.

“One more.” His lips are so soft; this kiss is sweeter than the first, less urgent. You barely notice as the driver behind you swerves into the other lane to pass your stopped car and speeds off through the intersection.

Namjoon brushes his thumb against your cheek and then removes his hand somewhat reluctantly. You can’t hold back your smile as you ease your foot off the brake, trying to focus on the road. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but when you see a green light while driving, it means you’re supposed to go.”

He leans back in the passenger seat, his hands clasped behind his head, dimples fully on display as he laughs. “There it is. I knew you’d get in a license joke eventually.”

“I held it in for as long as I could.”

“I bet you did.”

You realize he didn’t give you any directions on where to go, so you drive aimlessly through the city that you know so well. The lights at night are beautiful, even you can admit that, and though you typically hate the many intersections, it’s not so bad when you have someone to kiss you breathless each time you hit a red light.

During a particularly long stretch of greens, he taps his knuckles on the center console. You glance over to see his eyes roaming across the inside of your car, like he’s just realized where he is. “So this is your whip, huh?”

The fact that this dork is a professional rapper amazes you sometimes. “Top of the line 2008 Honda Civic.”

He touches a finger to a mystery stain on the vinyl of your dashboard that’s been there for at least a decade. “I could get you a better car than this.” He doesn’t say it in a bragging way, though he certainly could. Instead he just sounds sweet, and sincere. Like he wants you to have nice things.

You roll your eyes. “Save your money. There’s nothing wrong with this car.”

With a thoughtful hum, Namjoon rests his left hand just above your knee, and you reflexively spread your legs a little wider, keeping your eyes firmly on the road despite your quickening pulse. His thumb draws lazy circles on the outside of your thigh. “Well, now we know you’re not fucking me for my money.”

The truth escapes with a laugh before you can stop it. “No, I’m fucking you for your big dick.”

“Oh?” His hand climbs a little higher and arousal pools in your belly. You can already feel yourself getting wet. “Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Eyes on the road, you tell yourself. His hand is rubbing your thigh gently now. It takes all of your willpower not to look over at him.

“I like this skirt,” He says softly, and a blush creeps up your neck. You’ve always had a complex about being fashion-challenged, and having a fuckbuddy with personal stylists and access to the nicest clothes money can buy doesn’t help. You changed outfits about twenty times before you finally settled on this one, a black long-sleeve and a yellow plaid miniskirt.

You lose your train of thought entirely when he nudges his hand a little higher, slipping it under the fabric, and hooks his pinky finger around the lace edge of your panties. Your cunt clenches at the thought of his long fingers in you.

“Are you trying to make me crash this car?” You do your best to keep your voice even, though you’re certain he can tell your thighs are quivering.

His fingers trace along the line of your panties where your hip and thigh meet, lighting every last one of your nerve endings on fire. “No, but maybe we should… park somewhere.” The suggestion surprises you, but you’re not opposed. In fact, you’re hard pressed to think of a place where you wouldn’t be willing to fuck Kim Namjoon.

“Are you sure?” “If you want to.” He responds nonchalantly. His hand slides out from under your skirt, moving a few inches back down your thigh. “I’ll behave now. How’s school?”

You laugh incredulously—your panties are soaked and this tease wants to talk about grad school? “Oh no, you started this. Don’t you change the subject.”

You don’t even have to look over to know he’s smiling at your frustration, and you turn right at the next intersection and then immediately left into the parking lot of a shopping center. It’s several hours after closing, so the place is empty, but you still drive around the building to the large commuter lot behind it to ensure you’re properly hidden.

You pull into a space directly in front of the “Park and Ride” sign, and you smirk as you pull up the parking brake. The irony is not lost on you.

The moment where you each have to fumble to unbuckle your seatbelt is just awkward enough that you’re laughing when he pulls you back in for another kiss across the center console. Euphoric is the only way to describe the feeling of having him here. It’s proof that he’s not some dream you made up but somehow, impossibly real.

He leans the passenger seat as far back as it will go, shifting his body to one side as best as he can to offer you the seat. “Will you please come over here?”

It’s certainly not graceful as the two of you fumble to get comfortable in the cramped space of your front seat, but when is it ever with him? You’ve seen him shatter wine glasses, knock over bedside lamps and alarm clocks, and you still haven’t let him live down the time he once fully broke the wooden frame of a hotel bed. You like that he’s multifaceted; he can make you laugh and fuck you senseless.

You take his place lying back in the passenger seat and he crawls over you, kneeling on the edge of the seat and resuming the urgent kisses, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You only break apart to shed clothing, first your shirt, then his, and then your bra. (He looks extra smug for being able to undo it one-handed on the first try.)

He tosses it into the backseat with the rest of your clothes then pauses to take you in, eyes roaming over your body. He licks his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

Your nipples stiffen at his words and the cool night air; being half-exposed like this makes the reality of the situation set in. You’re technically fucking in public, and it’s turning you on a lot more than you anticipated.

You run your hands over his shoulders and across his chest and groan as he moves his lips down the slope of your neck. He’s just so big, especially in your small car—broad shoulders, long legs, and flexing muscles that make your core throb in anticipation. You’re dying for him to touch you, to fuck you, but he’s taking his sweet time.

As if sensing your impatience, he grabs both of your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of you while he kisses, bites, and licks along your neck and collarbones. You can’t contain the little noises he pulls out of you when he finds a particularly sensitive spot.

You try straining against his grip just to see what happens, but he’s so much stronger than you that he doesn’t budge. When you whine a little, you feel him smile against your skin.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” He lets one of your hands free and brings his own to cup your left breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your nipple in just the right way that makes you arch up into his touch. Fuck, he’s good at that.

“You have me.” Namjoon says, like it’s obvious. “Be more specific.” He dips his head down to tease a circle around your nipple with his tongue, then just barely grazes the sensitive tip with his teeth and you moan.

Your head is spinning, and you can’t keep your voice from shaking as he gives the same attention to your right breast, his thumb continuing to work the left one.

“I need to f-feel you inside me,” you groan. “Please.” Your pussy aches from lack of attention.

“Whatever you like, baby.” He replies, shifting his position slightly to get a better angle. Your head falls back against the seat as his hand makes contact with your thigh, rubbing it just like he did when he was teasing you while you drove. Your breath catches when he slides both of his hands under your skirt, thumbs hooking your panties, and pulls them down in one swift motion. “Skirt stays on.” He says with a flash of his dimpled smile. “I like it.”

You maneuver to get your underwear all the way off in the limited amount of space and nearly knee him in the groin. The look of concern on his face at the close call makes you laugh out loud, which quickly turns into a moan when he presses two fingers into your dripping cunt. You’re breathless and still smiling, completely dazed from it all, as he pumps them in and out of you at a torturously slow pace.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His thumb slides between your folds, collecting the wetness there. He gently circles over your clit and you gasp. You’re not gonna make it, you think. You’ll die right here in the passenger seat if he keeps touching you like this.

Instinctively you move to cover your flushed face with your forearm, embarrassed by how overwhelmed with pleasure you are, but he catches your wrist and pins it down again with his left hand, the other still working your pussy.

“Don’t hide,” he murmurs. “I want to watch you fall apart.” And then he picks up the pace.

You’re helpless to his touch, moaning and panting for air as you feel your orgasm already fast approaching and a warmth building in your core. He curls his fingers inside you, pressing hard against your front wall while his thumb rubs your clit in perfect time. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s doing with you, exactly how to work out the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had, and you know you’re headed for one now when your cunt starts to flutter around his hand.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice drips like honey. “Come for me.”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, your back arching up off the seat. The pressure building in your core reaches its peak and you feel it burst as a wave of arousal rushes out of your cunt and splashes against his hand and your spread thighs. He groans at the sight. His fingers ride you through the aftershocks until you squirm from oversensitivity and he finally relents, releasing his grip on your wrist at the same time.

“Holy shit,” is all you can manage once you’ve come down from your climax, staring dumbly at the ceiling of your car in disbelief, trying to remember how to breathe. Your heart is racing. “That was… oh my god.”

“Still got it.” He says, clearly self-satisfied, and you laugh as he presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone. Namjoon always gets so proud of himself when he makes you squirt. “I think that might be a new record.”

You roll your eyes but you’re still grinning, enjoying the waves of your post-orgasm high. It’s been a long time since you came that hard. “Yeah, yeah, you’re very talented. Shut up and switch with me.”

Shifting positions is made harder by the fact that your legs threaten to give out when you put weight on them, but his hands slide up to your waist to steady you so you don’t fall over. Eventually he resumes his place in the passenger seat, and you kneel down in the small space in front of him, his legs on either side of you.

He lifts his hips up so you can tug his shorts down, and you’re torn between teasing him back as revenge and the overwhelming desire to take him in your mouth immediately. You can already feel your core starting to throb. There’s just something about Namjoon that makes you insatiable. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.

You trail kisses up the inside of his thigh, biting every so often at the sensitive skin there, delighting in the way his breath hitches each time. Two can play at this game, you think as you press a hand to his stomach, just barely teasing a finger under the band of his boxer-briefs to scratch your nail lightly across his skin. His hips jerk in response and you smile.

You move your hand lower to palm him over his underwear, gripping firmly but keeping your pace slow to torment him. You weren’t just flattering him earlier—his dick is life-ruiningly big, the perfect combination of long and thick, and he’s fully erect under your touch. You want it so bad, your naked cunt is getting slick all over again at the thought.

But first, some retribution.

You still the movement of your hand and place a gentle kiss to the head of his dick through the fabric of his underwear, then gaze up at him innocently. His lips are parted slightly and he’s breathing hard, watching your every move. The way he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe makes your stomach flip.

It feels good to be in control. Keeping eye contact, you lick a slow stripe up the fabric of his boxers and feel the strong muscles in his thighs flex under your hand as he groans a little.

You drop your gaze to take the head of his still-clothed dick in your mouth, resuming the slow pump of one hand over his shaft.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon hisses.

You tug his boxers down his legs, too desperate to see him. His cock looks so good you can feel yourself salivating. The tip of it is already shiny, slick with a mixture of pre-cum and moisture from your teasing. You trace up the large vein on his shaft with the pad of your thumb. When you pause to rub small circles at the extra-sensitive spot right under his head, he lets out a strangled whine.

Encouraged by the sound, you wrap your hand firmly around him and he gasps. You can feel his cock pulse in your hand. You pump him ever-so slowly, working a new bead of precum out of the tip, then lightly run your tongue over him to lick it up.

His hips jerk again and he grunts your name, his voice hoarse.

You lean back on your heels, your hand still wrapped around him, and feign surprise. “Hmm? I’m sorry, did you say something?”

He’s clearly trying to keep the smirk of disbelief off his face, but a telltale dimple gives it away. “Oh my god, you’re so evil.”

You smile at the compliment and finally take him into your mouth; his moan of relief makes your pussy throb. You swallow down as much of his dick as you can and wrap your hand around the rest, bobbing and pumping in a steady motion. His hips start rutting against your mouth in time with your movements.

The way Namjoon is groaning unabashedly now makes your face hot. God, you need to fuck him. You look up and take him as far down your throat as you can, gagging slightly, and he must be able to read the desire in your eyes. He runs a hand through your hair, just barely tugging, and you relent, his dick sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Get up here,” he growls. You climb into his lap and straddle him, and he kisses you so fervently that your head spins.

His hands slide under your skirt to grab your ass and he pulls you closer. As he does, you realize how soaked you really are, your slit slipping easily along his length. You can barely keep from whimpering at how good it feels, and he’s not even inside you yet. His cock twitches and you shudder, unable to stop yourself from rolling your hips and grinding against him. You’re so turned on, you could come from this alone.

“Keep doing that, baby,” he encourages, and your eyes flutter open as he shifts slightly. He reaches for his discarded shorts, his other hand caressing your thigh as if to apologize for the interruption. After a bit of fumbling he produces a condom, reaching both arms around you to rip it open with shaking hands.

Leaning back, you brace yourself on his legs and lift your hips up so he can slide the latex down his length. Your thighs are trembling hard as his hands move back to your ass and help guide you into place.

It’s been so long, and you want this so badly. You’ve spent more than a few nights in bed with your hand between your legs, playing back the memory of how good he feels, how thoroughly he’s fucked you before. Even after all the anticipation, when you finally, finally sink down on his cock, it’s still somehow better than you remembered.

You have to take a moment to press your face into the crook of his neck as you get accustomed to the stretch of him inside you. His thumbs trace gentle circles along the globes of your ass and it’s enough to get your cunt to fully relax. You spread your knees a little wider and sink down another inch, gasping as he bottoms out in you. You feel impossibly, overwhelmingly full.

Namjoon smiles as you lift your head and bring one hand up, running your thumb along his jawline. He looks so good like this; his face is flushed and his eyes are dark with lust.

“I forgot how well you take my cock,” he says, giving your ass an approving squeeze. “Such a perfect fit.” The praise makes your pussy clench and he groans at the feeling.

His hands slide over your thighs and up to your hips. “Ride me, baby. Please.”

You can feel every inch of him as you brace your hands on his legs and start to rock your hips, and the sensation is so good you can barely form a coherent thought. Heat rises in your belly as you lift up and lean back slightly, and when you ease your hips down, the head of his dick grinds against your sweet spot.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, and you hear him grunt beneath you as you rock your hips in just the same way over and over and over. It feels so fucking good, you never want to stop. The filthy sounds of your slick cunt only bring you that much closer to your end.

Namjoon’s fingers dig into your skin and he thrusts up into you, matching your rhythm. The pleasure is so forceful now that your walls squeeze tightly around his length. “Just like that, baby, fuck.” He sounds absolutely wrecked. “You feel amazing.”

His thumb moves to press your clit under your skirt and you’re practically vibrating with overstimulation, already incredibly close to coming. Your legs shake so badly that you start to lose your rhythm and he takes control, fucking up into you with fast and powerful strokes. The way he pounds into your cunt feels so overwhelmingly good that your jaw drops open and you moan loudly. He only has to circle your clit one, two, three more times before it’s all over.

You can’t do anything but whimper and throw your head back as your orgasm overtakes you. Your arms threaten to give out and you collapse into his chest. The release of pressure is so intense that you see stars as wetness floods your pussy.

You pulse around him again and again and then Namjoon is coming too, groaning your name, his cock twitching inside you.

For several minutes, all you can do is lay against him, your body shuddering as you come down from the high. His hands press gently against the small of your back as reality slowly returns around you.

Your panting dissolves into soft gasps of laughter; you can’t believe that just happened. Fucking Kim Namjoon in your shitty Honda Civic, of all places. What a time to be alive. You nuzzle your nose against his neck and he turns his head to press a kiss to your hairline. “Welcome back,” he murmurs against your hair.

“Wow,” is all you can manage. You feel completely spent, blissed out.

“That was… crazy.” Namjoon sounds just as much at a loss for words as you are. “You’re so incredible.” He rubs small circles into your back and you sigh. You wish he could fuck you like this every day, but you don’t say that part out loud. You know it’s just the post-orgasm chemicals talking.

You turn your head to the side and laugh again as you realize the car windows are completely covered over with fog. He follows your gaze. “At least we don’t have to worry about whether anyone saw us.”

Feeling starts to come back to your limbs. Soreness is already blooming along the muscles in your thighs and your bent knees, but it was so worth it, you can't even be mad. “I think my legs are broken,” you say with a wince.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds so sincere at first that it makes you smile. “Guess you can blame it on this big dick, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but he’s thoroughly fucked the sass out of you, for now at least. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to shut up, so you pull his face to yours and kiss him instead. He sucks gently on your bottom lip and you think your heart might burst.

Once you finally break apart, you rest your head on his chest again. “Hotel time?”

Namjoon brings a hand up to stroke your hair. “Baby, I’ve got some bad news.”

You freeze, and your stomach drops, preparing for the worst. He’s always been a gentleman and let you stay the night, but he’s busier than ever these days, you know that. Maybe things are different now. You will yourself not to react to whatever he says next, post-orgasm chemicals be damned.

“The minibar in this hotel… it’s awful.”

“Oh, fuck you!” You laugh, pushing against his chest and sitting up to see his dimpled grin. He stretches, hands behind his head, his biceps flexing. He’s so handsome. You absolutely hate him and like him way too much all at once. “You have,” he reminds you. “And you will again soon. But I need some real food first.”

You are starving, you realize. You run a finger across his chest and put on your most seductive voice. “Hmm… how about I take you to In-N-Out? We’re gonna need some protein before round two.”

“Alright,” he shrugs. “But I’m paying.”

“Of course you are, sugar daddy.”

He laughs against your mouth as he kisses you.

A/N: thanks for reading!!! i ended up fulfilling a request for a short companion piece to this! if you want more quippy fuckbuddies goodness, check out five minutes! 💜

[khadijha]

counseling 101: the background.

hi everybody! my name is riley, and i'm a substance use counselor. i've worked in both inpatient and outpatient, i've been in this field since i was 19 and have been professionally working for 2 years. i'm currently in grad school for clinical social work, pursuing my lsw and my clinical licensure (lcsw). i wanted to write a guide on what it "means" to be a counselor! i will be discussing the specifics of a substance use counselor in another post. (it will be linked below.)

disclaimer:

do not take this as professional advice for all counselors, therapists, psychologists, or social workers. this is my background, my information, my experiences, and my specific expertise. this will include the basics of schooling, training, certifications, frequently asked questions, and things you might not realize, as it all pertains to me! what works for my patients and i may not work for you, so be mindful this is not a "my way is correct and your therapist is wrong," as i believe in the pct model of meeting everybody where they're at.

even counselors at my exact experience level and education level may do things differently than me, and that's perfectly fine! i just wanted to write this to give some insight if you're interested in writing a character who is a therapist, or who goes to therapy. or if you're just interested in general! i could give reminders upon reminders but i just need to say that this is all my thoughts and path in life! this is not the end all, be all. and with that, let's get started. (if you have further questions or need something clarified, please feel free to reach out but just for clarification: i'm not your therapist, i'm not being paid for this, please don't trauma dump, and always remember i'm a human just like you!)

education:

your education is based a lot on your "experience" (which i'll talk about next) and i know that doesn't make sense but just stick with me! the very basics of what you need is a bachelor's in a "social work" setting. which includes, but is not limited to (because i forget): psychology, social work, sociology, criminology. these are the foundations for your specific field of work! i'll just be talking about counseling in general, or about substance use, as i am unaware of the other jobs / fields you can get with different degrees.

if you're trying to get a "good" job (livable wage) i would suggest getting a master's degree in your field of work. though, i will say, you can get lucky and survive off of your bachelor's (like i currently am!) but i would strongly, strongly encourage further education which will lead into certifications and licensure, and that will cement your place in the field and open up the job field entirely. with a bachelor's, they often want anywhere from 1-5 years of experience. with a master's, many places will take you with 0 years of experience, up to 5 years, depending on your field and what the company wants.

i currently have my bachelor's in psychology. psychology is such a broad degree that unless you're specifically going to be a clinical psychologist or gain your doctorate, i would choose another field. i didn't know i wanted substance use specifically until i was 19, which i'll speak about in experience, but if i did not choose the substance use field, i would most definitely would have had to immediately get a master's and be licensed in order to receive well paying jobs with just a psychology degree.

experience:

you don't need a master's to get a job in this field, but you do need experience (there will be places that take bachelor's with little to no experience, but will pay you next to nothing). the best thing to do is find an internship! i think the easiest way will be through your school, and when you're picking one of the aforementioned degrees, it should be an option when picking out classes - many times, universities have people that specifically work with internships.

when i was getting my bachelor's degree, it was my first semester and i was 19 when i was offered to interview for an internship through my school. i got accepted on the spot and was apart of it even after i got my "credit" for the semester and continued for two years! i worked in houseless shelters in my county and was running daily men and women's groups, 2:1 sessions (2 counselors to 1 resident), debrief sessions with the other interns, and supplying a resource booth for the residents.

without this internship, i truly and wholeheartedly believe i would not have gotten any job in this field. it's a dog-eat-dog out there in the realm of psychology (which includes all those fields above) and i truly got lucky to get my start this way. if you don't have the time, motivation, or money to gain a master's, i would highly suggest getting involved in internships as soon as possible in order to get those years of experience!

certifications:

this has a wide range of things! i can only speak to what i've received, and what i know about. this also includes specific training to the sud field, but i won't go in depth about it until the next post i do! the certification i will always need is my cpr. i know that sounds silly, but working with people, in general, i feel like everybody that is able to should receive their cpr certificate!

now, with a bachelor's, they're not really expecting you to have anything else. but! you can. i currently have my milieu certification. which sounds fancy but it just means i'm certified in "psychotherapy in which the patient's social environment is controlled or manipulated with a view to preventing self-destructive behavior." i could've explained it myself, but google does wonders and makes me sound smart! i got this through my internship. it was required and within the first two weeks, i went through trainings and seminars to receive the certificate.

another thing i can receive with only a bachelor's (that's specific to sud) is my cadc certification. it stands for certified alcohol drug counselor. in order to do this, you'll need supervision hours from a clinical / licensed or otherwise appropriate supervisor or director. once i receive upwards of 300 hours of documented supervision, i can take my cadc exam and become certified. this can also enhance what jobs are available to me because many jobs ask for this certification in place of a clinical license (some don't, but you know... some do!)

currently, i'm working on my master's and may potentially work towards my cadc along the way, but once i receive my master's i can get my caadc, which is certified advanced alcohol drug counselor. it's just more hours and an exam! not sure which path i'll take yet because grad school is killing me, but those are what's offered in my field and what i'm interested in! of course there's other certifications involved, but that's for you to decide.

licenses:

now comes the fun part. again, what license you want or go for is specific to your field. there's a ton of counseling licenses, but the main ones that are down my path are lpc (licensed professional counselor), lsw (licensed social worker), and lcsw (licensed clinical social worker). so let me explain a little bit about each of them, and what i'm personally doing!

lpc: licensed professional counselors "are trained to offer assessment, therapeutic interventions, consultation, program evaluation and follow-up services in a variety of settings including schools, hospitals, community agencies, private practices, religious centers, group homes and more. lpc's can also independently practice counseling, meaning they can establish or join a private practice and directly bill insurance companies or receive cash for counseling services." can: work independently, diagnose mental health conditions, and supervise for clinical hours. this license is primarily for direct mental health care.

lsw: licensed social workers can "render services that rely on a special knowledge of therapeutic techniques, human personalities, and social resources. this includes: helping people become socially adjusted as individuals and members of a family or community, you cannot work independently; you must work in the affiliation of an agency or social work service provider." cannot: work independently or diagnose mental health conditions.

lcsw: licensed clinical social workers "support people through various challenges by providing general counseling services, crisis intervention, mental health therapies, substance use support, and other key services. lcsw's may also supervise the work of lsw's. they may work in schools, hospitals, elderly care facilities, private practices, and even the courtroom—social workers are often called upon as witnesses in court cases. the main thing to remember is that this license gives them freedom and responsibility to make independent decisions about diagnosis and treatment plans." can: work independently, diagnose mental health conditions and supervise for clinical hours.

difference between lpc and lcsw: though both are similar in their ability to work independently, diagnose mental health conditions, and supervise for clinical hours, there is one main distinction between the two. lpc's are more patient focused and lcsw's utilize a patient's entire life. to put it, well... better, i've turned to google! lpc's "focus on helping clients with specific issues, such as mental health diagnoses, substance use, or behavioral issues. they also can specialize in different types of counseling, including substance use or marriage and family counseling." whereas lcsw's "assist their clients with finding and accessing resources that promote a client’s quality of life and may be involved in the legislative process dictating these services. social worker training usually includes counseling techniques and training, best practices, and finding resources for clients."

general overview:

so, with a bachelor's and no cadc or license, what can i do? well! i counsel<3 i speak to my patients about their substance use, i speak to them about their family, i conduct family sessions, i delve into their trauma, i utilize cbt, pct, mi, and grounding techniques. i run daily groups with my caseload, i run bi weekly groups for the entire community, and i initially assess them for proper level of care. i submit asam's, prepare treatment plans and update them weekly, and work with them on their goals while in and outside of treatment. all of this will be spoken about further in my sud counseling guide.

a day-in-the-life timeline looks like: clock in, check any updates / notes on my patients, go to treatment team with the clinical staff / case management / nursing and doctors (which pertains to the level of care my rehab is - you will not always have this, dependent on inpatient or outpatient and other factors), i run my daily group for an hour with my patients, i do group notes for them, i have my lunch, if i have that afternoon group for the whole community i run it, then i fit in any individual sessions or initial assessments that i need, i complete all progress notes for the day, and i clock out. in between, i handle patient crisis', ama's, behavioral issues, and general questions.

modalities:

what are modalities? "modalities are approaches or methods that a therapist will use to help you reach your goals. modalities fall into broad categories, such as cognitive and behavioral, somatic (body awareness), experiential (play or art therapy), and more." these vary by counselor-to-counselor. this is what works for the counselor and the patient and instead of including the quadrillions of therapy modalities, i'll just talk about the ones i use the most! (also side note that i believe most therapists, within reason, should be utilizing pct and mi but... that's a soapbox for another day). i'll be talking more about why i use - these in relation to sud - in my other post.

cognitive behavioral therapy (cbt):

i want to start this off by saying that cbt is very useful in the beginning stages of therapy! oftentimes, people utilize dbt or somatic therapy after they've "accomplished" cbt. i employ cbt due to, more often than not, patients not having a solid foundation for recovery or changing their ways. so what is cbt?

"cbt is a psycho-social intervention that aims to reduce symptoms of various mental health conditions, primarily depression and anxiety disorders. cognitive behavioral therapy is one of the most effective means of treatment for substance abuse and co-occurring mental health disorders." in a shorter sense: i use cbt in order to "change" the way somebody thinks.

things that are apart of cbt therapy (and can be incorporated in other forms of therapy) include cognitive distortions, grounding techniques, actively engaging in combatting their automatic negative thoughts (ant's), and encompassing pct and mi in order for the patient to understand why they need to change their thoughts / actions, how they can change them, and the results of changing them. this will go more in depth in my sud post!

patient centered therapy (pct):

pct isn't necessarily for everybody, as many patients may have difficulty even coming up with what their issues are or potential solutions. but by utilizing pct, counselors may be able to support a patient to an "answer" or realization without giving them the answer - i find it beneficial to voice my issues and concerns so i'm able to form my own solution even without my friends saying anything! it's very limited involvement from the counselor as far as "telling them" what's wrong and giving them "choices" to fix it.

"during person-centered therapy, a therapist acts as a compassionate facilitator, listening without judgment and acknowledging the client’s experience without shifting the conversation in another direction. the therapist is there to encourage and support the client without interrupting or interfering with their process of self-discovery, as they uncover what hurts and what is needed to repair it."

pct is really important, in my opinion, because it allows patient the autonomy to make decisions for themselves, while also giving them support. a counselor is supposed to help, not be a brick wall, so as much as the patient is allowed to freely roam through their thoughts and feelings, i've found a nice balance between pct and cbt when the patient may not have a specific answer or understanding for themselves.

motivational interviewing (mi):

"mi is a guiding style of communication, that sits between following (good listening) and directing (giving information and advice). it's designed to empower people to change by drawing out their own meaning, importance and capacity for change. mi is based on a respectful and curious way of being with people that facilitates the natural process of change and honors client autonomy."

when i speak about "guiding" a patient to a different way of thought, or to a "solution", mi is what i'm talking about. my entire approach to counseling is not to give them the answer, because many times they may know the "right" thing to do (stay away from drugs - duh, not explode in anger, not cut people off, etc.) but allowing them this space to speak freely so i can ask them questions for clarification, let them know somebody is listening to them, and building up that therapeutic relationship is the entire point for me.

mi is where the trifecta of these modalities lays. i can utilize cbt in an effort to change their mindset or offer new ideas or "reasons" why they may think / act like that, as well as incorporating pct so that they can come to the realization themselves! it's all about balance and which modality is right for that exact moment, for that patient. it also allows me to be entirely present in the conversation. i often find myself dissociating in my day-to-day life, as many people do, but by using mi, i have to listen in order to ask questions or repeat what they said back to them. it's beneficial to all!

the end:

thank you so much for reading this! i know this was just the basics, but if you want to write a character who's a therapist or who's going to one, i hope this helps beef up that background for you! again, this is specific to me and my sud field, and there's a million other certifications and licenses for general counselors.

substance use disorder counseling post. (will update when post is done).

[otrtbs]

hiiii !!! you’re like my favourite writer ever. the whole reason i got into the marauders is because of my love for art and finding art heist baby 🙈

i live in aus and i’m turning 17 soon. i want to do a degree in art history but im scared it wont get me anywhere? what do you think??

hi!!! thank you so much, this is so sweet!!! <3

well, as someone with 2 degrees in art history i am afraid i will be a bit biased here but i say absolutely do it if it's something that you love and are passionate about!

being completely candid here i had the best time in school. the BEST time. i loved every second of what i was doing and learning and it never felt like a chore. then for about 5 months post-grad i wanted to find a very large hole and bury myself in it because i could not get a job that utilized my degree to save my life. they were either extremely low paying (seriously, no person could live off of that wage and they were also PhD preferred) or entry level jobs calling for 5+ years experience ???? Like. GET. REAL. (not to worry tho i just recently got a job (aye) as an exhibitions and collections specialist at a museum so we are so on the up and up again)

also being candid here. you're never going to make a ton of money in this field. you're not gonna be "rich" and 95% of it is who you know. the art world is small. TRUST. also, most positions in an art historical field require at least a master's degree tbh. a lot would prefer a PhD especially if you're looking to do curatorial work in any time period pre 1920s. (so if you're an impressionist/baroque/renaissance kinda person be prepared to get a PhD and be prepared to learn another language aside from english to get a good job in the field) <- i do find that it's easier if you're more modern and contemporary focused to get on with just a masters degree

that being said, if this is what you want to do. if this is what you love. it is never a waste and you will find a way. (if I can find a way anyone can find a way). my best advice is talk to your professors, do internships, work if you can !!!! volunteer at your art museums!!!! meet and talk to the museum professionals in your area and NETWORK!! (I can't stress enough how many times someone has been like "oh you worked [redacted] did you know [redacted]?'" and i could be like "yes!!! i worked under them for two years loved her!! blah blah blah" it goes a long. way. i've had professors send me gallery writing guides and artist biography guides from when they worked at the MET so i would know how to write them, academic advisors in scotland know my art history professors in undergrad and subsequently became my bestie by extension, curators at a museum i volunteered at teach me how to work archival systems when they had a free minute)

talk to as many people as you can!! network!!! get some experience in archival systems, instillation work, art historical research!! work with your local university's/city's museum or archeological center! that way, when you're on your inevitable 239823 interview post-grad, someone at some gallery will be like "oh you worked here? under so-and-so???? you're hired"

i love it. what i do doesn't ever feel like work to me, it's exciting and fun and enjoyable and not something i do so i can do other things. it's not something i do just to make money. it's hard. post-grad is hard. but it's hard for a lot of people rn, not just art historians. i'm always gonna say go for it!!!! it is never a waste to do something you love!!

[thebramblewood]

Pouring one out for the Helrike shippers.

Previous / Next

Yet another hit build from @whyeverr! Again, this one is much bigger and cooler than I make it appear. (And we won't talk about the fact that Britechester's "historic district" is actually Willow Creek, lmao.)

Transcript under the cut.

Ulrike: [to waiter] I’ll take a glass of your finest red, please, and keep it flowing!

Helena: I didn’t realize we were celebrating.

Ulrike: Hell, yeah, we’re celebrating! I think we deserve it considering we’re both days away from blowing this popsicle stand with our sanity still mostly intact.

Helena: You don’t have to guzzle it like that. It’s not going anywhere, you know.

Ulrike: Sorry. But aren’t you excited? I’ll be spending an idyllic summer in the Windenburg countryside, and you’ll be making a splash on the publishing scene in San My. We’re finally going places, Zhao!

Helena: Right. About that... [laughs nervously] I’m not actually sure I want to go.

Ulrike: Are you kidding me, Helena? Don’t be silly. Of course you want to go!

Helena: I don’t know, Ulrike. The more I think about it, the less appealing it sounds. I mean, what am I really going to be doing? Splitting a shitty apartment with three roommates and running coffee orders every day?

Ulrike: It won’t be like that forever.

Helena: It just doesn’t seem worth it to me.

Ulrike: [cautiously] Well... what are you going to do then?

Helena: I thought I might go to Windenburg with you instead. Oh, come on! It’s not a crazy idea. I could work on grad school apps, find a seasonal gig in some quaint souvenir shop. We wouldn’t have to worry about the long distance thing.

Ulrike: It’s just... it’s called a retreat for a reason.

Helena: I didn’t realize I was what you needed to retreat from.

Ulrike: That’s not what I meant. But you know how uninspired I’ve been lately.

Helena: So now I’m not inspiring enough for you?

Ulrike: No! But I do think a change would benefit-

Helena: Are you breaking up with me?

Ulrike: [under breath] Oh my god. [to waiter] Can you top me up over here, please?

Helena: Faust, it really feels like you’re breaking up with me right now.

Ulrike: Well, maybe we should cool things off for a bit. Listen, you’ve never been anything

but supportive, and I appreciate that. Of course I do. But sometimes it feels like it’s at the expense of supporting yourself.

Helena: What is that supposed to mean?

Ulrike: I mean, when was the last time we did anything because you wanted to? You’re such a good cheerleader. I love that about you. But I worry you’re neglecting your own goals to make me happy. It’s important for you to be your own person. Maybe some time apart will help.

Helena: Well, if it’s time apart you want, we might as well just start now.

Ulrike: Zhao, I’m not trying to make you feel bad. We can at least finish dinner.

Helena: I’ve lost my appetite.

Ulrike: Zhao!

[emsprovisions]

“you really thought i wouldn’t remember what you like? please, give me a little credit.” from the trope prompts...go wild...

Title: it’d be so nice, right? Tags: Human au | exes to lovers | early-twenties gustho A/N: this is sooo heavily inspired by “skinny dipping” by Sabrina Carpenter Word count: 873 words Prompt: Tropes

Gus certainly wasn’t planning on running into his ex on Valentine’s Day of all days. Really, he’d hoped to never run into Matt Tholomule at all if he could help it. He was still trying to get over him almost a year later, and sure, Gus thought he was just being stupid when every little thing reminded him of Matt. He couldn’t even walk into a hardware store without thinking about his ex’s job, or the sets they used to build together for the theatre department at school. 

So when Gus’s head snapped up when he heard the barista call a “double espresso over ice with light milk for Matt,” he wasn’t expecting it to actually be his Matt. He just figured maybe a lot of Matt’s had a terrible taste in coffee. 

He wasn’t so lucky.

Matt caught Gus’s eye, having noticed him from the spectacle he’d put on when the barista called his name. He grinned that stupid lopsided grin that Gus remembered too well. There was a small scar on the right corner of his bottom lip. His left cheek dimpled with his smile. Gus gulped and tried his best to put a hamper on his emotions when it became increasingly clear that Matt was approaching him. 

“Hi, Gus.” Gus’s insides tensed up hearing Matt’s voice saying his name. It felt so right. It felt so wrong. 

He smiled cordially at his ex, trying to hide all of his true emotions so Matt wouldn’t be able to tell how much seeing him was affecting him. 

Somewhere in his mind, a little animated Augustus was stomping on Matt’s stupid heart and his stupid face, Lizzie McGuire style. 

“Hi,” he said back. Then, before he could help it, “How are you?” 

“I’m good! It’s been awhile. You look really good.” 

Gus felt his face begin to flush. “Thanks,” he said awkwardly, looking anywhere but Matt’s eyes. 

“So, How’s your dad?” Matt asked, changing the subject.

Gus shrugged. “He’s alright, still working too hard.”

“Yeah,” Matt laughed. “My folks, too. Hey, how’s grad school going?”

Gus was a bit alarmed by the small talk. Matt was supposed to know all of these things about him already. He was supposed to be by his side. It was weird there were gaps in his knowledge about Gus. Though Gus realized that, in nine months, anything could be different with Matt. He wondered briefly if Matt was seeing someone new, if he’d already replaced him. Gus hadn’t been able to move on, hadn’t gone on any dates or tried to meet any guys–much to Skara’s dismay. It was Matt, his heart belonged to Matt, it always had. Right now, back in Matt’s presence, he was forgetting why his heart ever stopped belonging to Matt. He couldn’t seem to recall any of the ways they had self-sabotaged their relationship, their fights in Steve’s garage, Matt’s commitment issues. 

“Grad school’s going well, I’m pretty much all geared up to graduate in the fall.” Gus said, smiling a bit. He was proud of the hard work that he had accomplished.  

“That’s awesome! You’re gonna be the most bad-ass librarian, man. I’m still at my job and working slowly on my bachelor’s. I’ll probably graduate next year.”

“That’s great to hear, Matt!” Gus couldn’t be certain right now, but he was pretty sure Matt’s six-year long and counting degree in architecture had been one of the wedges in their crumbling relationship. It really had been a long time.

Matt suddenly looked around where Gus was sitting. “You didn’t get a drink yet?”

“Oh,” Gus said lamely. “No, I was, uh, waiting for Skara. She was taking pity on me on single’s awareness day.”

“Skara running late? Neeever.” Matt laughed. “Can I get you something though, while you wait, I mean?”

Every alarm bell in Gus’s head was screaming no. “Yeah, sure.”

“Venti upside-down caramel macchiato with oat milk?” Matt asked, pointing at Gus to confirm his order even as he started heading to the register. 

Gus sat back in pure shock. “Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows knit together as he stared at Matt hard. 

“What? You thought I wouldn’t remember your order?” He grinned that dumb lopsided grin again. “Please, Augustus Give me more credit than that. After all, you remember mine too.”

Gus felt his cheeks flush with heat as Matt went to order his drink. 

He came back a few minutes later with Gus’s sugary, caffeinated drink in hand. “You know, this has been really nice. Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime.”

Gus blinked at him. “What, like a date?”

“Maybe,” Matt grinned. “Doesn’t have to be. You free Friday? We could go to Antonio’s like we used to.”

“You don’t think there’s too many memories attached to that place?” Gus chuckled nervously.

“Not if we don’t sit at our old table,” Matt shrugged. 

And Gus couldn’t fathom anything wrong with that. It was just dinner. It didn’t even have to be a date, Matt said so. And he missed Matt. So, so much. 

“Friday it is,” Gus smiled. 

They could just have dinner, it’d be that simple. They’d avoid their old table. There’d be no baggage. They could just exist. 

Matt smiled back. “See you Friday!”

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

Barry takes his glasses off and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’s been staring at his computer for far too long today. The computer in question sits on the couch next to him, screen obscenely bright in his dim living room.

He’d been ignoring the emails that infiltrated his inbox with growing frequency and urgency, all of them riddled with subject lines like “Payment Plans for Upcoming Semester,” and “Payment Due Soon,” and “Seriously, You Owe Us Tens of Thousands of Dollars and We Aim to Collect.” You know, normal stuff.

He’d always figured that actually doing the coursework would be the hardest part of grad school, not figuring out how to fund it without owing his soul and first-born child to the federal government. But the fact of the matter is that he’s reached a dead end; most of everything his mom left him was used to pay off his undergrad loans some years back. His university has mentioned scholarships and work study but he’s convinced the scholarships are a myth and also his university declined to mention that the work study they offer doesn’t actually pay him in money, rather they just pay for three course credits. Don’t get him wrong, that’s better than nothing but that doesn’t help pay his rent or buy textbooks.

Once again he mourns the fact that the only applied arcane theory program that accepted him just had to be a private university many states away.

He returns his glasses to his face and pulls his laptop closer to him. He’s about three modules into his ten-module long loan counseling. It’s basically an online program that explains in excruciating detail just how deeply the federal government has his future in their pocket. “Oh, hey Barry! If you Ever fall behind on your loans, we can garnish your wages that already probably won’t be able to pay for a studio apartment in Neverwinter and also you’ll be paying these back for anywhere from ten to twenty five years! You also cannot declare bankruptcy because you live in hell!! Only way to get off the hook for these is if your school shuts down before you get your degree or you die! Now sign on the dotted line after you hyperventilate a little when you look at just how much money you’re going to be responsible for!”

The whole process makes his stomach hurt; there’s no good reason education should be this much. He’s going to be saddled with loans worth more than any yearly salary he could hope to have and now he’s gotta pay them back or die.

Wait.

He rereads the loan forgiveness terms. “If your loan servicer receives acceptable documentation of your death, your federal student loans will be discharged,” he reads to himself. He's got it.

He lets loose a laugh that borders on maniacal and roots around for his phone. It rings once before someone picks up on the other end.

“Lup!” He whoops.

“Bear? What’s up? You sound extremely excitable right now.”

“Okay, remember when you wanted to get married for tax benefits?”

“I do! I also remember you turned me down because you didn’t want to our marriage to be for convenience.”

Barry laughs to himself. “Yeah, I still stand by that.”

“You sap,” she sighs fondly.

“Well, I think I found a way to scam the federal government through a loophole.”

“Gods I love when you talk dirty to me!”

“We can talk more when you come home but I can almost promise you neither of us are paying off our student loans.”

“Barry, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about and I can’t wait to hear your devious plan. Love you!”

“Love you.” He clicks end on the call and looks around for his theoretical necromancy notes from a few semesters ago.

[ofduskanddreams]

Drabble Event Masterlist

A list of all the fics written as a part of my 600 follower milestone celebration. You can find the series on AO3 or search the tag "kate's celebratory drabbles series" on my page to find them as well. All fics listed are less than a thousand words unless they are marked "*"

Give Over To The Fall ✦ Mor x Elain ✦ T

When Feyre and Nesta ditch girl's night, Elain and Mor head to Rita's alone, and long-simmering things boil over.

A Sunshiny Sound ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ G

Regency AU || Despite being friends (and neighbors) with Lucien Vanserra since childhood, Elain has spent the past months wondering if that friendship has come to an end as his letters have grown few and far between. Then he calls upon her one afternoon out of the blue, and things are not what they had seemed.

Otherworldly* ✦ Mor x Emerie ✦ G

Regency AU || Emerie leads a simple life. She has the store she inherited upon her father's death, her skill with a needle and thread, and far more independence than most of her peers could dream of. When she receives a mysterious request from the lady of the county, Emerie is too curious to deny it.

Like They Want To Lick You ✦ Azriel x Gwyn ✦ T

Modern AU || It never bothered her before, the hungry eyes that always followed Azriel wherever they went. But this is their honeymoon, he belongs to her now in every imaginable way, and she can't help feeling a little possessive.

The Sky Has No Walls ✦ Azriel & Rhys & Cassian ✦ T

Rhys and Cassian helping Azriel learn to fly.

Sensation and the Scent of Waterlilies ✦ Azriel x Gwyn ✦ M

Omegaverse AU || Azriel's heat finally ends and he feels incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful Alpha. This is just post-heat softness and Azriel being stupidly in love with Gwyn. There are only vague references to spicy things.

You're Lucky I Love You ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ G

Elain returns home from a meeting and can't find Lucien anywhere in the house. She checks the back garden and what she finds is the last thing she expects.

Reputation to Damage ✦ Nesta x Cassian ✦ M

Modern/Grad School AU || Every semester at Prythian University, a rumor goes around about a professor in a relationship with their TA. It's as predictable as gravity, but Cassian isn't sure how he feels about it this time... because the subject of the rumor might be him.

All That Matters ✦ Nesta x Cassian ✦ M

Picks up where ACOSF chapter 78 leaves off. After the ordeal of the Blood Rite, Briallyn, and Nyx's birth, Nesta and Cassian finally go home. Feelings are felt, love is demonstrated through care, and they finally get some much-needed rest.

Lack of Discretion ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ T

Modern AU || Elain has had a long week, but she's determined to beat her exhaustion and meet Vassa for drinks. They'd already had to reschedule it several times. Unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances prevent Vassa from joining her that night as well. At least the beautiful new bartender asks if he can join her when his shift ends.

This Lovely Enigma* ✦ Azriel x Eris ✦ M

Royalty AU || The law requires that King Eris Vanserra find a consort and partner within one year of taking the throne. Eris's expectations are low, and the line of prospective consorts being introduced to him is still managing to meet them or, at least, they were. Then Azriel walked into the throne room.

Truth or Dare, Azriel?* ✦ Gwynriel + Elucien ✦ M

Modern AU || It's their annual week up at Rhysand's family cabin. When Nesta and Cassian retreat to their room and Rhys and Feyre head off to theirs shortly after, the others know they'll need to occupy their time before risking going into the cabin. A tipsy game of Truth or Dare around the bonfire takes a few very interesting turns.

Warmth Lingers in the Smoke ✦ Azriel x Eris ✦ T

Regency AU || With his father recently deceased, Eris is leaving for London in the morning and all the duties that await him as the new Lord Vanserra. It's his last night walking the mile to Azriel's cottage on the neighboring estate and losing a few precious hours to the man he never meant to fall for.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Did you see that tiktok video that's been floating around twitter of that woman going The Love Hypothesis is problematic and woman in stem publishing this book will normalize teacher/student relationships and will be used as a excuse....like what the actual fuck??

I tried to find it, but haven't been able to so I'm going off secondhand info buuuut.

a) as someone who feels pretty well-acquainted with what is and isn't problematic in a way that matters.... that book isn't, unless there's some crazy shit I'm not aware of surrounding it

b) I really need this person to make their way into the real world and realize that STEM (and academia in general) did not need this book to normalize these types of "student/teacher" relationships because uh, that should not be a normal thing but it... is, and some advisor didn't need to read TLH to go "I'm picking up on a vibe between me and my advisee.... I'm gonna do it"

c) let's dig into the phrase "student/teacher" here--while a college professor is indeed the teacher of their adult student, I've seen people use the phrase student/teacher to describe these relationships, and I think it's manipulative, at least when you're using English.... I mean, I can only speak for American English, but I'm going for it. When we use the phrase "student/teacher", it's most commonly associated with crimes that involve minor students and their teachers.

Because very few adults, in my experience as someone who's gone to college, call their professors their "teachers" here. I never did. They were my profs, more specifically my mentors or advisors if that was their role. Perhaps it's different in other countries, but I don't know any college student who used "teacher", because we associated "teachers" with "children".

I sometimes feel that language like this is used to ensure that people who wanna weigh in with zero context jump into agreeing with the OP, because OF COURSE STUDENT/TEACHER RELATIONSHIPS ARE WRONG.

d) so, why are student/professor relationships bad if the student is an adult (and mind you--undergrad, grad, and postgrad students can be older than their profs... it's not unusual, depending on the situation; I was friends with fellow students old enough to be my mom and frankly probably the professor's, too)? Because of the power imbalance that occurs when the student is learning under that professor. Whether that professor is their advisor (who may not teach them--my advisors often taught me, but not throughout my college career) or is instructing them at the moment, that professor can impact the student's academic career, from their grades to the projects they're selected for. The professor can nepo their romantic partner into an opportunity they shouldn't get; they can threaten the student into silence or a coercive relationship, as well.

Which is why higher ed institutions have rules against these adults dating each other.... but often, not when a professor dates an ADULT who happens to be a student at the school but is not in their department. If I'm an English grad student and a Math prof asks me out... I mean, I guess they could theoretically use their personal relationships with the English department to impact my life, but that is dependent on them having a personal, not professional relationship that they could make outside of work even if they weren't in the school? They have zero direct professional connections to my work, and therefore the school really doesn't have much of an ability or need to police our relationship, because we are consenting adults.

e) the book directly deals addresses this, and in fact all of Ali's STEM books that I've read address the conflicts that can come up with people (usually male) who have power over female academics in STEM... Adam is not Olive's advisor and his research doesn't interact with hers. And at the end of the day? Yes, he is a professor, she is a student........ pursuing her doctorate......... she ain't anywhere near an undergrad, even.............. But he's not teaching her, their research doesn't intersect from what I remember, and when you are an academic it is very possible that you will fall in love with a fellow adult who is further along in your career than you are and works in a similar field but does not in fact have power over your studies. Because people who have academic careers breathe their academic careers and that is how they meet people and those people have shared interests and people with shared interests sometimes like each other.

f) Ali Hazelwood knows all of these things because she is in fact a professor...............

[toomanyfandomsthings]

Hello, this is just ask for fun....

Favorite female character :

Favorite male character :

Favorite animanga :

Animanga you are currently enjoying :

Animanga that exceeded all your expectations :

Unpopular animanga you really love :

Favorite romance :

Favorite action animanga :

Favorite fantasy :

Favorite sci -fi :

Favorite drama :

Favorite comedy :

Favorite anime movie :

Next in your watch list :

Next in your read list :

Favorite antagonist:

Thanks if you want to answer....

Ooo thank you for the ask! :D Some of these are really hard to narrow down to just one, but I'll do my best!

Favorite female character: Hmmm if I had to pick just one, it would be Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket! <3 She's so sweet and genuinely kind and also so strong willed. She sees the best in everyone and wants them to be happy but also rarely puts herself first, and it's nice to see her grow over the course of the series. <3

Favorite male character: Aki Hayakawa from Chainsaw Man, without question <3 I love him so so much, his whole story arc is so well written and he is so kind and caring and such a sensitive soul and I'll spare you my whole rant about him but he's just the best and my favorite character in literally anything <3

Favorite animanga: Hmmm I'd have to say Tokyo Ghoul! I genuinely think that series is a masterpiece and I read it at a time where I really really needed it, so it has a special place in my heart <3 The characters are wonderful and so well written and the story is so gut-wrenching and heartfelt. Also Ken Kaneki is like...right behind Aki in terms of favorite characters out of all things I've read <3 I love that series a lot, I really need to re-read it sometime.

Animanga you are currently enjoying: Ahh I'm not watching too much recently because grad school work is kicking my butt, but I've been catching a few episodes of A Sign of Affection and I'm really enjoying that! (also helped by the fact that Itsuomi's voice in the dub is also Aki's please don't judge me XD) I've also been watching Bucchigiri?! and I....think I like it? Still figuring out my opinions on that one, but I like Marito Jin and he's kinda the only thing keeping me watching XD

Animanga that exceeded all your expectations: Chainsaw Man! I *hated* Chainsaw Man for a good amount of the time I was reading it, I was kinda only in it for Aki's story for the longest time. And without spoiling the manga, there's a big plot reveal at one point that, when it happens, puts a lot of the story in perspective and I genuinely had a moment where I had to put down my phone and be like "......oh my God.....this series is so smart." So once I re-read it with the whole story in mind, I absolutely loved it <3

Unpopular animanga you really love: Rokuhoudou Yotsuiro Biyori! <3 I will sing this show's praises every chance I get! The manga isn't translated in English, so I haven't been able to read it (though I do own up to volume 16) but there is a 12 episode anime on Crunchyroll listed under "Yotsuiro Biyori" and it is one of my comfort shows! It follows four very sweet gentlemen and their cat as they work in a tea shop and help their customers though their problems. It's so so sweet, the characters are so adorable and kind, and it's pretty episodic so you can jump in pretty much anywhere and follow what's going on. Definitely recommend it!

Favorite romance: I don't actually watch a lot of romance anime, so I guess I'll probably have to say A Sign of Affection for right now XD Or Sasaki and Miyano, that series was cute too! :D

Favorite action animanga: Jujutsu Kaisen! The fights in that anime are unmatched <3

Favorite fantasy: Ahhh this one's hard! It's either Yona of the Dawn or The Case Study of Vanitas, but I'm leaning towards Yona purely because I think about it more often! Both of those series are phenomenal! <3

Favorite sci-fi: Psycho-Pass! <3 .....I say having only watched the first 2 seasons and the movie! But the first season of Psycho-Pass IS a masterpiece! And the movie is also really really good! .....We don't talk about season 2 XD

Favorite comedy: Life Lessons with Uramichi-Oniisan XD I love the comedy in that series *so much* XD It does get very dark and pessimistic with it's comedy though, I have very rarely shown it to other people and gotten a reaction other than ".....oh my God" so....be aware of that going in XD

Favorite anime movie: Howl's Moving Castle! <3 I have seen that movie an *unhealthy* amount of times, both in theaters and at home. I....I like that movie a lot haha

Next in your watch list: Metallic Rouge, Ninja Kamui, and Delicious in Dungeon, because friends recommended them to me! :D

Next in your read list: I really wanna catch up with Moriarty the Patriot, I have up to volume 13 and I need to take a day to just catch up with reading it <3 (the anime's great though please watch the anime)

Favorite antagonist: Shogo Makishima from Psycho-Pass <3 I love him so much, what an awful person who also totally makes sense for the world he is living in. He's got such an intimidating presence and also has so much charisma XD VERY good antagonist :D

Thank you so much for asking! :D

[itsclydebitches]

OK Clyde I know you posted about advice for incoming grad students. Any advice for starting to look at grad school and narrowing down for what I wanna do for programs?

I’m a rising junior in undergrad, and I definitely feel the stress of grad school coming.

You can do this!! Yeah, it's daunting, but if you enjoy being in school (like me) it's a lot of fun too :)

Okay, basic advice that immediately popped into my head:

Evaluate the program, not the school itself. At this point you're heading into a far more narrow form of education, so you want to prioritize what a specific program is offering -- faculty, research focuses, advancements to the field, financial aid (that's a BIG piece), etc. -- more than whether this is simply a Good School™. I applied to a couple of places that made my friends do a double-take because the school was known for subjects that weren't anywhere in my wheelhouse and it only made sense when I explained that they also had this other, lesser-known, but still excellent track.

That being said, a school's reputation is nothing to sneeze at... Though it's elitist and it sucks, employers do pay attention to where you've gone -- certain names will always jump out on a CV. I still remember discussing my options with a friend in my college library, listing off my options, and once I hit the Good School™ I'd gotten into his response was, "Why the fuck are you considering anything else??" and... yeah. Provided the school also offers what you're personally looking for, snag it if you can.

Think ahead to career options. You may already know precisely what you want to do with your degree, but if not take a look at a school's placement data, both to get a sense of the options and how well these graduates have done. Hell, look even if you are set on a certain track because so many careers are difficult -- if not downright impossible -- to break into nowadays. Paying attention to the supposedly unconventional careers attached to a degree + how well the school has done in navigating its graduates towards specific fields can alleviate some of the stress of entering the workforce.

Similarly, check out what current/former students have to say about the program. This is where social media really comes in handy. For this, dodge the official publications put out by the school and take some time to dive into the individual stories. Like buying an apartment, it's useful to talk to your neighbors, so to speak, who already have some insight into how things are run. For example, back in the day when my father was going after his master's he was essentially stonewalled because the school didn't want to give up his cheap teaching labor. Oh, you're ready to graduate? Turns out we suddenly want you to do all this additional coursework! Obviously take stories with a grain of salt, especially since any school is going to have its problems, but if you hear a lot of stuff along the lines of, "Well, they look great on the outside, but when you're actually here..." that's something to consider in your choice.

Pay attention to geographical location. As mentioned in that other ask, your graduate career will be a lot less, well, college-y. You'll be a professional, likely working part time (at least), and you'll be settling in to your adult life if you haven't already. So your thought process should be a lot less, "Omg the campus is beautiful and the dorms are so cute and look at the dining hall menu--" and far more "Hmm what are the rents like in this area? Do I know anyone in this city? Will I need to buy a car if I go here? Where's the nearest vet for my cat?" Hopefully such pragmatic concerns aren't fully driving your decision -- I'd hate for you to choose a program you're not as excited about solely because you can't afford to live elsewhere -- but finances and accessibility are inevitably a factor.

What are the admission qualifications and graduate requirements? The first part should be an obvious question while looking at schools, but I can't tell you how many people I've encountered over the years who get excited about a place only to stumble when they realize they lack something to apply, or need to do additional work they just don't have the time/energy/money for: another course or two, an entrance exam, etc. That second bit is about looking ahead again. Pay attention to what this program will ask of you -- you can contact the graduate admissions office for more info if you want -- and weigh that against your needs and goals. For example, I was already wedded to a graduate school for other reasons, but a side-bonus was that they allowed students to continue taking a language as coursework rather than testing in one. As someone who absolutely sucks at foreign languages but is a diligent student, that would have been a big draw all on its own.

Side-note: PUT TIME AND EFFORT INTO YOUR APPLICATION. That should also go without saying, but a good showing is a massive undertaking, so your application is not something to put off until the last minute. Plus, some of what you create -- a CV, research statements, etc. -- will form the foundation of your academic portfolio. The topics I spoke about in applying to work with specific faculty members would eventually inform my dissertation and when it came time to publish, the relief of already having a well-composed CV was pretty great. So work at your application, but remember that it's by no means a reflection of your worth. People are rejected for a thousand different reasons and part of continuing your schooling is finding ways to move past that inevitable disappointment. In the words of the wise Picard:

[allaganexarch]

Do you have any advice for someone who will be applying to grad school soon? I want to eventually get a PhD and teach, but it's so scary to think about organizing myself enough to do the applications and I also barely know where to begin. Any advice is welcome!!

Also p.s. i love your fics <3

Thank you so much!! I will try my best! Disclaimer: I only know how it is in the U.S., but I do have a fair amount of friends/acquaintances who have gone to grad school in various fields, so I think I have a pretty wide range of experiences to go off of besides my own.

BIG first thing: find programs that will either pay for your degree or otherwise offer you some kind of excellent financial aid situation. It is almost never worth it to get yourself into some kind of hellish student loan situation. If you want to teach there might be some kind of government forgiveness thing but even those can be unwieldy, so just watch out and stay on top of it.

But, going off of that, and this is just my personal opinion, but don't bother applying anywhere you don't actually want to go just because the money is good or it's prestigious or whatever. You're already going to be mildly miserable a lot of the time while doing your PhD, you might as well do it in a place you can tolerate. Figure out what's most important to your own success--for me, I absolutely have to like my professors or I will really struggle. Other considerations fall below this.

Someone will probably have a suggestion specific to your field for how many schools you should apply to to maximize your chances, so you can build a list of schools you're interested in based on that vague estimate to start looking into, but I also think there's something to be said for drawing the line at a certain point where it's not worth it, and you might be better off getting some kind of work experience for a year or two and then trying again. I actually applied to graduate school right out of college, which would have been a DISASTER if I had gone LOL.

BIG second thing, just based on my personal foibles, reach out to some professors/mentors/employers/whatever with whom you've had a good relationship in the past (if you haven't spoken recently), ask them how they're doing, and update them on what you've been up to and that you're thinking about pursuing your PhD. This is especially important if you've been out of school for awhile, but it's good to get into the habit of periodically touching base with professional contacts even if you're still in school. You're going to need letters of recommendation, AND you're going to keep needing references for various things, and it's good if you don't have to cold call people you haven't spoken to in a long time once you already need something.

Note that calling up esp. professors you haven't kept in touch with is usually fine! People generally want to help you! It will just make you feel less awkward if you've kept in touch ahead of time. It's great if the person has some connection to your field, but IMO it's better if the person just knows and likes you and can speak honestly to your merits.

I also personally had a huge issue just wrangling the people who agreed to write me letters of recommendation to like, do it, and use the website submission thing correctly, in time for the submission deadlines LOL, and I felt SO awkward reminding them about it but was also going INSANE as the deadlines approached. This was honestly one of the most stressful parts of the whole process for me, and you might find you want to apply for an internship or grant or something early on before you've really connected with your new profs and need these references AGAIN, so my advice is just try to get some people who are willing to help you lined up ASAP so perhaps you can avoid this particular nightmare. 2 minimum, but 3-5 is ideal.

As for organizing everything, it's definitely time-consuming, but there's also something kind of gratifying about it. When you go through the trouble of gathering together every mildly relevant or impressive thing you've ever done in your life, you'll be like, wow, I did some cool stuff actually :). Note that you never know what admissions will find interesting about you, so don't count anything out right off the bat--my school loved that I have a background in music, while my German degree continues to be pretty much irrelevant LOL. If you're still in or just out of school there's probably someone whose job it is to help you with e.g. how to put together a grad school resume or read over your personal essays or w/e, so definitely take advantage if that exists, but you can absolutely do it yourself if not, no sweat!

Though I would recommend finding someone, like maybe one of those past profs/mentors/etc. I mentioned, to look over your personal essays for you just so there's another pair of eyes on them. Personal essays were the SECOND most stressful part of the whole process for me because I HATE writing personal essays LOL! But having someone tell me what kind of narrative law schools are looking for helped me to refocus my writing and feel slightly less insane about it.

Finally, always remember, don't sell yourself short!! In any application process you want to play up your strengths and minimize your weaknesses, but don't hold yourself back based on the weakest points in your application. Apply for things you really want to do or that would be really beneficial for you even if you don't think you'll get them--you miss 100% of the shots you don't take, and this applies to every aspect of your life btw!

I hope some of this was at least mildly helpful! I wish you all the best in your journey! Grad school is great and such a rewarding--