#I hate time zone differences I have to wait like 4 more hours for my boyfriend to wake up

[my-chemical-rot]

Happy pride month to Oderus Urungus lmao

[everythingmp3]

melting the ice

adult!Van x fem!reader

you run into the hot professor you talked to once before and she is gracious enough to offer you a ride home - you get stuck in a snow storm, so you are trapped in her car for a while. you get to know each other more intimately.

authors note: I wanted to write Van as a prof but without an intense power imbalance, so reader isn’t one of her students! the vibe is still similar to my other fics for her but I felt like trying sth different, so yeah, I hope you enjoy! <3 (its around 7k)

warnings: smut (reader receiving), minors dni

the snow had come over night.

for weeks the weather had been too mild, and then, out of nowhere, your entire college town got snowed in within just a few hours.

it was the first week of November and fall had suddenly turned into winter: freezing cold air, miles and miles of untouched glittering snow, until everyone woke up and had to make their way to school or work, including you.

on your way back from classes later that day, it was still just as brutal outside, your hands would have turned blue, had you not kept them in your pockets the entire time, so you decided to make a stop at a cafe.

it was around 4 pm, so the cafe was packed with everyone else who was seeking out a moment of warmth and refuge on their way home. as you stood waiting for your order, you were zoned out because your body was tingling with the sudden raised temperature, so you startled more than you should have, when someone lightly tapped you on the shoulder.

it took you a second when you turned around, to realize who the woman was, but then it hit you: the hot professor you had talked to during your first week at college. the memory came back to you: you had both stood outside the building one night, to get away from all the socializing and mingling, and had gotten into a really nice back and forth. you remembered being a bit heartbroken when she told you she wasn’t part of your faculty, that there was no way she would ever teach one of your classes. you also remembered her being funny, being nice, so it was a pleasant shock, the one she’d given you just then.

"oh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I just thought hey I recognize her, might as well say hi" she laughed, her eyes sparkling in the unusually white light that reflected through the window.

"yeah, I remember you!" you said, a bit too enthusiastically. "Van, right?".she nodded, smiling.

you recalled that she’d told you that she makes all of her students call her by her first name because she hates the term "Miss". it seemed to please her. she brushed her hair out of her flushed face, that somehow looked even prettier when pink from the cold. she repeated your name back to you too, which surprised you, that even two months after that night, she also remembered.

"it’s nice to see you again. how have you been? settling in alright, I hope?" she asked, tilting her head lightly, eyeing you with interest. you nodded "yeah, it’s okay so far, I’m surviving" signaling that it wasn’t all perfect, which she appreciated, the honesty. "me too, yeah" she mused.

as you both waited for your drinks, you had to stand rather close to each other because it was crowded and there was barely any space to move. she smelled good, her demeanor was open and bright, her lips somehow looked luscious and soft even on a day with frozen over windows, so you almost grew a bit nervous. still, you were glad for the forced proximity, getting to have a close look at her in the daylight, her freckled skin, barely a few inches away.

"I actually thought of you during my first week of teaching" she told you, which you almost didn’t believe at first, but she went on "yeah, talking to you that night was really nice, I thought wow okay the kids here are really bright huh. well. you set my expectations a bit too high. was kind of a letdown at first, I have to admit."

you were unsure if your expression gave it away, that you felt giddy at the thought of her thinking all that about you, in your absence.

you smiled and returned the compliment by telling her that you’d had a similar feeling when you met some of your profs, that some of them were average at best and that she was definitely someone you’d have preferred over some of your male profs.

she didn’t conceal her joy very well either as she listened and leaned against the counter, where you were still waiting for your coffees, until the barista called out your order and you both turned around - laughing when you realized that you had asked for the same thing, a whispered "good taste" from her as you both reached for your respective cups.

on your way out you used the chance of having run into her to gossip about the professor whose class you had just gotten out of.

"he loves to hear himself talk" you said, radiating annoyance, which made her laugh.

"and you dont share that love, I assume?" she asked, eyeing you as she held the cafe door open for you, a bashfulness to the way you accepted the gesture.

"no. I have to be careful not to roll my eyes. he already hates me anyway, I think" you responded once you were both on the sidewalk that was still covered in snow.

"hm, I can see that" she said, as you both stood there, clasping your hands around your warm to-go cups.

"huh? what’s that supposed to mean?" you asked, acting more offended than you were, which made her laugh more and explain herself. her nose scrunched up when she really laughed at something, you noticed this. it made your face feel warm even in that frozen landscape.

"oh, you just seem like someone insecure men wouldnt love to be confronted with."

"well, you do too" you said, looking at her as you took a sip and felt the warm bitter taste on your tongue.

Van nodded, something in her gaze giving away that she felt it, that you were similar on some fundamental level, that there was a shared quality to you, that not that many others around campus shared.

"so, how are you getting home?" she asked.

"my car engine is fucked from the ice, so, I have to walk.." you said, holding your cup tighter, trying to soak up any heat you could.

Van seemed a bit appalled by that image. "what?? that’s not good, youre already shivering" she said, pointing at how you were holding yourself.

"it’s okay" you reassured her, half-convincingly.

"no, come on, let me drive you, its no trouble at all" she knew that the dorms were a decent distance away from that part of campus, so that was probably why she took pity on you.

"really?" you asked, unwilling to be a nuissance.

"yes, sure, come on" she said and waved you over to follow her to her car that was parked right down the street.

once you were inside, you breathed out in relief. the air was warm but not suffocatingly so, there was enough room for you to get comfortable, and it felt soothing, to be unexpectedly taken care of by a stranger. or, a semi-stranger. whatever she was to you at that point.

during the first minutes of the drive, you naturally fell into a conversation, it was easy, you felt like you transported right back that night where you had lost track of time talking to her, trying to win her over. you talked about the food around town, the few spots that were actually good, you talked about your exam seasons, how you’d managed, the awful lighting in the library, her hours and hours of meetings with faculty members that lead nowhere.

it was funny, to talk to a professor like that, like a friend. Van seemed eager to talk to you and you felt the same way; it was clear that you were both a bit starved for genuine connection - you dropped subtle hints here and there about not being the type of person that conservative small town folks would be obsessed with. she said something about being different than her colleagues, she paused for a second when she said that, you caught it.

you both threw glances at each other, more you than her because she was driving, but it was clear that you felt a sense of kinship. for more reason than one.

a few minutes into the drive it suddenly snowed again. intensely. at first, she thought she could keep driving, but within minutes she could not see more than a few meters in front of the car, the air was thick, the roads became risky to stay on, so she had to pull over. you were on a forest road, she parked her car on the side that was lined with trees.

"fuck." she sighed and rested her head on her hands for a second. "well, feel free to get comfortable" she joked in a dry tone, "you probably regret taking my offer now, huh?".

you smiled and shook your head, genuinely unbothered. "oh, not at all, I didn’t have much else going on anyway. I would have been boring myself to death right now."

that made Van lean back and look at you from the side, a bit more relaxed then, surrendered to your situation of being stuck there, her legs spread in a way that made it hard not to let your eyes wander down.

"didn’t make a ton of friends then, hm?" she teased, her voice smooth and low.

"no. shocker, I know." you said, turning your face to her, watching her expression change to one of amusement. it suited her. her eyes somehow both dark and sparkling, at the same.

"what about you though?" you asked.

"me? well take a wild fucking guess" she said, raising her eyebrows, which made you laugh. "no?"

"nope." she shook her head, glancing out of the window for a moment.

"so... you just teach and go home and walk around on your own? thats kinda depressing" you messed with her, which made her snap her head back around to meet your eyes.

"um, you do the exact same thing, miss. except you listen instead of teach. besides. I am old, youre the one who should be getting into trouble, not me, you have no excuse" she said, her tone more stern then, which pleased you, sensing that it was an act, the kind that bordered on flirting.

"miss". something about that word being thrown at you to tease you, it felt thrilling.

"old? please, youre like what, 40...?" you waited for her to complete the age, but she stared at you for a second, letting you hang in the feeling of not knowing, guessing, until she said "5.", not smiling, just plainly giving you the exact number, watching for a reaction.

you took a long look at her then, her face, somehow even more intrigued than before. something about having her explicit age was hot. a turn-on. you sounded it out in your head "forty-five".

"okay, that’s a good age" you said, not backing down.

she was taken off guard by that and gave you a confused look. you knew she was too clever to miss the subtext there.

"a good age for what? ending it all?". another moment of her getting a true laugh out of you, she suppressed a smile when she heard it.

you enjoyed her dark humor, you joined in on it "oh, mine is good for that too, youre not special".

"right, so, should we just... let ourselves get snowed in and starve to death here then?" she said and gestured at the storm outside.

"sure, please, put me out of my misery" you said, stretching out your legs, looking at her again, meeting her eyes and catching something in her gaze that was close to affection, her smile softer than before. something about her facade had cracked. you could tell.

there was a sense of familiarity in the air, which only intensified with the knowledge that you were trapped in that small enclosed space for a little longer. there was a coziness to it, the dark gray outside, contrasted by the orange glow of the small lamps in the car, the smell of your coffees mixed with faded leather seats and her perfume. it soothed and excited you. you hoped the snow wouldn’t calm down for at least a while longer.

"can I ask why you came here for college?" Van broke the silence, considering you with clear interest, patiently sitting in her seat and watching you.

"well. I wanted to move across the country, away from... everything. and here it wasn’t too expensive, so yeah, easy decision in the end. and it’s good, I don’t regret it, but it does get lonely sometimes, I won’t lie" you felt like being open with her. she was glad.

"yeah, I hear you. I also moved here from a bigger city that was kinda suffocating me, so yeah, it can get lonely around here. but uh, sorry if it’s too personal, do you not have anyone you’re close to around here?" she asked, concerned.

you thought about it for a second. "well, I mean I have nice roommates and acquaintances, but nobody that really makes me feel less alone. if that makes sense"

that seemed to resonate, she nodded, making a "hm" sound of understanding. "yeah, it does actually. I’m sorry though, I’d hate to think you feel alone. that’s not good" her voice gentle then, a sting in your heart, not used to it, that level of unflinching attention to your needs.

"same to you" you said, covering your vulnerability, turning it back to her.

Van shook her head and scoffed "oh please, who cares about me, you’re young, you’re more important"

that way of putting it touched you but you couldnt really agree "I don’t know about that" you said, quietly, looking down at your lap.

"so, what do you do then?" she asked, turning the tone a bit more bright again, "what do you get up to? there must be something".

"I hang out at that bookstore downtown a lot, the building is nice, but their choices are not it..." you told her.

"yeah I know" she agreed, still looking at you even when you looked away. a pleasant feeling. a tingling sensation on the left side of your face.

"you could borrow some of mine sometime if you wanted. if theres one thing I have it’s too many books and dvds..." she mused.

"yeah I would like that. and dvds?" you asked, holding back a joke about how outdated that was.

"yeah, you know what those are?" she teased, nudging you in your shoulder lightly, a simple, innocent touch that somehow still felt intense.

"I am not a baby, Van, yes, I know what those are, I know VHS too for that matter" you said, leaning closer to her, challenging her in a way by staring up at her. she didnt seem to mind. she held eye-contact, a grin on her face then. that suited her too. all of her expressions had their own appeal to you.

"oh okay, look at you" she responded, nodding in approval.

you went on like that for a few minutes as the snow kept falling outside, your view still kept at only about two meters in every direction, no sign of it easing up. you forgot about the outside world and talked about more personal issues then, both of you shifting in your seats to sit in a more relaxed manner, speaking more freely, both happy to get some time to just say whatever came to mind to someone you didnt have a complicated relationship with. she told you about some grievances with her colleagues, but stopped herself in the middle and said

"sorry, I forgot that you’re a student. I shouldnt be telling you all that, huh" she said. but you’d quickly grown to love it, being trusted, being let in by her.

you had also spent the entire time noticing how pretty she was to you, how her voice and her manner of speaking and her physicality all made you hope and pray that you werent imagining it, her lingering glances.

"I’d like it if you forgot actually" a bit bolder then. she paused for a second, stared at you. considered her next move carefully-

"hm. and whys that?" she asked, unwilling to give in that easily. forcing you to reconsider. to choose your words wisely. she wouldn’t stop looking at you and you couldnt stop staring, so you felt pushed by her to change strategies. to be more shameless. to try and get to her.

you moved closer to her then and said "I always have cold hands, you know. today it’s really bad, even though I had that coffee and we’ve been in here for a while. they’re freezing." you eyes soft, pleading.

she still wouldn’t budge. she would make you come onto her. "uh-huh" she said, her voice even lower than before. only drawing you in further.

"here" you told her, holding out your hands for her to take. she hesitated for a moment before she took them. a full body rush of heat as she did. a shiver.

"oh god, they really are" she thought you were bluffing but she could feel it, how cold you were, her facade suddenly broken.

she took your hands between hers and rubbed them together to warm them up. you were quiet. unable to speak any more. stunned. she noticed. didn’t let go. slowly moved her hands over yours, the silence around you enabling her to hear it: how heavy your breaths were turning.

it messed with her too, the skin to skin, she was flushed, swallowed hard, failed again and again to stop it. to break the connection. she touched your forearms too then, pushed your sleeves back a bit, made eye-contact, you were weak in the knees, fully turned on by then. unable to smile or speak. taken over by the desperate need to remain in her hands. Van could tell. she was nervous then. aware of what she was doing. so, against all instincts, took her hands away.

"I could help you feel warmer too. we could help each other" you whispered then, pleading, pushing her.

a flush to her cheeks. she said your name, quietly, somehow telling you "dont." and "come here" at the same time.

you could see her trying to restrain herself. so, you tried to get her to stop by moving closer to her, your hand on her thigh then, supporting yourself as you leaned over to where she was sitting.

she did not move away. you stopped only when you knew she could feel your breath on her lips. Van was still hesitating. you were convinced you’d would have to make the move. but then, suddenly, you felt her hands on your face, hard, to pull you in for a kiss.

you moaned into it because it was so unexpected, the aggressive, needy way she pressed her lips against yours, the way she kissed you, like you were two lovers reuniting, like she had waited weeks and weeks to do it, aggressively sensual.

you instantly moved your hands to her neck to hold on and kiss her back just as eagerly, a shared desperate sighing sound filling the air as you kissed again and again, getting a feel for each other, slowing it down once you got the initial overwhelming rush out of the way and fell into a delicious rhythm, kissing deeply, passionately, her mouth open for you, your tongue against hers, the lingering taste of coffee and something minty mixed into her natural sweetness, addictive, your fingers tangled in her long hair, hers grabbing at your shirt to pull you closer, lewd sounds filling the silent space.

your bodies reacted very strongly to the sudden heat, urging you to bridge any distance to really melt into each other, so you were both left desperate for more by the inability to be all over each other; you separated and clung to each others shoulders, panting and dying for more. you nodded towards the backseat then and said "should we...", which she immediately responded to with "yeah..".

you were so dizzied with want that you blacked out during your attempt to get back there, only coming back to your senses once you could finally pull her flush against yourself and kiss her again, both of you trying to feel the other one through your clothes as you did, tearing at each other while making out until you couldn’t take it anymore and started undressing.

Van was wearing more layers than you, so you were topless faster than her, which made you help her, impatient, both of you laughing quietly as you fumbled with the fabric and heard how pathetically heavy both of your breaths were, until she was finally left in nothing but a thin white tank top, her chest visible, your hands immediately wandering there, feeling her up.

you sighed when she held your face in her hands and asked "can I see you... please". so, you removed your bra and were left exposed, her eyes raking over you, admiration and hunger written all over her face, which made you push her back against the seat, her head near the door then, and climb onto her.

you were pressed chest to chest then as you kissed again, a moan from her when she felt your weight press down on her, a shudder when you felt her hands moving down your exposed back, warm, firm, divine on your flesh, that had spent the better part of the day feeling frozen, suddenly tended to by her open palms.

after making out like that for a few minutes, Van grew needy and did something you weren’t expecting, she moved her head and heard you whimper when she ran her tongue over one of your tits. put it in her mouth. sucked on your nipple, lightly at first, harder when she heard how you reacted, holding you in place as you braced yourself against the car door behind her, an almost pained "fuck.." as she sent shocks through your entire system with her tongue and mouth all over on your sensitive chest, her spit slicking it up.

it was a turn-on for you, that she, who had just before seemed so reluctant, was suddenly so openly eager to devour you. you were scared of growing too aroused too quickly, because you were already whining, so eventually you pushed her down, away from your tits, so you could move her hair out of the way and kiss her neck, to hear some of the same sounds from her.

Van gladly surrendered and laid there with her eyes shut, her hands at your naked sides, caressing them as you kissed her neck all the way to the front of her throat, sucking and licking here and there, humming from the soft sensation of her skin, the scent, musky and fresh and sweet at once.

she pushed her knee up between your legs, which made you see starts for a second, before you used it to your advantage and moved your hips to add some friction, dry humping in a way at that point, her hips bucking up too, involuntarily, your bodies as close as possible.

Van started missing your lips on hers, so after you left her neck in red splotches she pulled your face back to hers again, to kiss again, no trace of cold left in either of your bodies by that point, hands roaming all over, a heat between your legs where her knee kept pushing up, a shared lack of composure that felt good to embrace, no pretense, both of your needs out in the open.

eventually you both needed air, so you pulled away and sat upright, as best as you could in that state, breathless and out of it.

you let out a shaky "fuck.." as you shifted in the backseat and felt how much of a mess you already were, just from that. "what?" Van asked, concerned, not aware what you were thinking, moving closer to you and caressing your bare shoulder, as you whispered. "I am so turned on it’s insane...". your voice thick with lust.

Vans gaze changed then. she caressed your thigh and leaned closer, her voice husky "oh yeah?".

"yeah.. you wanna feel?" you asked, eyeing her, eager to be intimate with her. "hmm" she said, nodding, waiting for you to show her, so you unzipped your jeans and pulled them down a bit, before taking her hand and guiding it into your underwear, which was fully soaked through.

the moment she felt it against her fingers, she groaned, "jesus... do you always get like this..". you could tell she was deeply turned on, her fingers pressed against the outside of your cunt, and yet, already slicked up from what had leaked out. you shook your head. "only by myself. I don’t.. its been a while" you admitted.

her lips were parted, she stared at you, "no? nobody’s ever there to help you out? that’s not right.." she trailed off for a second, moving her fingers between your lips then, wanting more of it, the heat, the wetness, enthralled by it, a shuddering breath, both from you and her. Van could feel it, that you wanted her to keep going, from the way you gripped her shoulder, the sighs you tried to keep in, so she moved her face closer to yours and whispered "feels good, hm?" while running her fingers up and down, slowly, adding some pressure.

you shut your eyes and pressed your head back against the seat then. "yeah..."

"want me to get you off? would you like that?" she asked, a sweet tone, while she was playing with you, your aroused skin, your clit, teasing you with deliberate movements.

you nodded eagerly, a barely audible "please... yes." as your hips jerked up to meet her hand.

Van leaned closer to you then, her side pressed against yours as her lips hovered over the skin of your neck, another whisper "I should be the one begging here. youre so pretty" before you kissed your neck and kept kissing your skin, as she added some force to how she was jerking you off, getting her fingers fully messed up and using the mess to rub your clit, to feel you squirm and hear you moan, as you stayed in place and let her get all over you, let her have her way.

you were erratic because you were so turned on, so she said "shh sweetie, it’s okay, youre okay, I got it" and watched you from up close, the way your face twisted, as she kept herself pressed against you and kept her fingers moving against you, your entire core swollen and pulsing by that point, raw with pleasure, a sensation that pleased her immensely, violently turned on from having you all over her hand like that, having you come undone, the sweet sounds she got out of you.

a pathetic cry left you, so she said "this is what you’ve been needing for a while, hm?" while picking up her pace on your clit, you locked eyes for a second, she stared into your soul, you nodded "yes.", a smile from her before she placed a kiss on your cheek and drank in the stifled moans as you kept rocking against her hand, clinging to her arm, your nails digging in.

"I wanna feel you" you got out, which made her ask "you sure?", so you begged her "please..", which made her abandon restraint and push two of her fingers into you, made easy by how wet you were, a groaned "god... you feel so fucking good." from her, as she felt you up to her knuckles.

Van turned possessive then, readjusted her posture and kept her eyes on yours, almost cocky, protective too, both, as she started fucking you with slow but hard movements, which made you melt for good, your whole body under her control, a deeply satisfying ache where you felt her hitting the right spot, again and again, a skill to her movements that made you even more attracted to her: the ease with which she did all the right things, her patience, her confidence, it all made you sit there and take it in a way you wouldn’t have from just anyone.

she could tell. Van saw you surrender to it all and felt a rush of affection, so she kept going, steadily, angling her fingers up so you could help yourself out and ride them ina way, which drove you near insanity then.

"jesus.. I’m"- you sighed, overcome with how good it felt to have all the previous coldness in your system replaced by the burn you felt for her, from her, so Van said "wanna show me how pretty you look when you come, hm?" her voice raspy, perfect, vibrating through your whole system.

you nodded and met her eyes, your mouth open, your face twisted up with the need for release, so she returned your look and uttered "good girl."

the second she said it, her face got colored in shock. she hadnt planned on it, it just slipped out, and she was clearly scared you were put off but it was the opposite, you were pushed even closer to the edge by that, so you told her "say it again." while moaning from the mix of her praise and her fingers deep in you, hitting your weak spot, so she smiled and leaned in, her lips brushing yours as she repeated "good girl" paired with a firm thrust up into you, which pushed you over the edge then.

you shut your eyes and soaked up the words as you shuddered and came around her fingers, against her hand, whining and sighing all throughout it, her eyes never leaving you, obsession visible in the way she stared you down all through your orgasm and let out little whimpers herself, in awe as she kept her fingers in you, so you could decide yourself when you were done.

once she pulled out of you, she gave you a few more self-induldgent touches on the mess you’d made, before she moved her hand away for good and let you catch your breath.

you were still breathless and dazed when you pulled her fingers into your mouth to lick them clean for her, which made her face even more flushed even more than she already was.

once your muscles were somewhat firm again, you climbed over to her to kiss her again, which she smiled into, letting out a pleased sigh while stroking your back, lovingly, her nails ghosting up and down your spine.

you grabbed at her while whispering "god. you are so... I wanna taste you so bad." your hand on her waistband then, which made her laugh and say "okay okay, easy, please, I’ll pass out. we have time, sweetie. let me enjoy seeing you like that for a moment."

so, you backed off and smiled too, grabbing your shirt to drape over your exposed chest as you sat back down next to her and kept your thigh pressed to hers, her hand reaching over to lace her fingers through yours, a satisfied deep breath out from you, the aftershocks still working their way out of your system.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until she pulled the fogged up window down just a bit to let a gust of fresh air hit your hot faces. you realized just then that it had stopped storming but neither of you were in a hurry to get back on the road just yet.

"fucking hell…” Van uttered then, her head in her hands, which made you laugh and ask "what?".

"I told myself before moving here that I wouldn’t get involved with students. and well.." she stared at you then, a bit helpless, lovestruck under that helplessness. you smiled at her and moved closer, your hand on her exposed arm, caressing her.

"sorry.. guess that means we won’t do this again, hm?"

she rolled her eyes at you and squeezed your knee. "funny. you know we are." that way of putting it pleased you. "it’s just. god, I am really not well-adjusted at all." she said, clearly realizing just then that she had just fucked a student in her car. not hers, but still.

"well-adjusted?" you echoed "who on earth is? not me."

“yeah, clearly" she teased, pointing at how you were holding your shirt against your bare chest, but you only shrugged and batted your eye-lashes at her, no shame at all about how glad you were that you had finally gotten exactly what you wanted for once.

Van leaned back then and laughed to herself, while you played with a strand of her hair, enjoying the softness of it. "what?" you asked.

"oh, I just missed this" she mused, staring into the air.

"having sex?" you asked, looking at her, studying her face.

"yeah, but also. just sensuality. maybe this is odd but I missed having the scent of another woman on me" she confessed, moving her right hand a bit, which made you understand what she meant, the scent of sex, the animal need to have it all over you, to be wrapped up in it the way you were in that car.

"no, it’s not odd. that’s hot actullay" you said and added "on that note, can I come over to your place sometime?" grinning at her, eager to be the one to have her on your hands next time.

"of course, yes, I want you to" she responded, her hands on your face then, "youre fucking hot you know" she said, while looking at you from up close, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"you are too. guess now I can say this but I was close to hitting on you that night." you told her, which made her laugh. she let go of your face but kept looking at you.

"uh, sorry to mess with your self-perception there but you weren’t close to it, you were fully doing it already."

you cocked your head "what?" unsure if she was just messing with you or not. somewhat offended but not really.

"oh please" she scoffed, and moved to sit more upright then. you didn’t know what she was doing until she changed her tone and said "ohh that’s really cool", imitating the exact way you had spoken to her back then, throwing you a faux-innocent but intense look and playing with her hair.

you shook your head and couldnt help but smile because she was spot on. "you laid it on thick, girl. I was shocked" she said, before getting more comfortable again.

"okay, and why the fuck didn’t you take the chance then, huh??" you exclaimed, pushing her in the side a bit.

she laughed, "well jesus I dont know, maybe because I didnt wanna end my first week here by abandoning all reason?".

"okay, well now you did anyway, so, maybe throw your morals out a bit faster next time. I wouldnt have minded having you a bit sooner". that flattered her, made her grin to herself, clearly not used to it anymore, being come onto that openly.

"sure. noted. could’ve been getting head months ago, huh?" she teased, recalling what you had told her a few minutes before, nudging your leg with hers playfully.

"yes. and often too" you responded, cocky in a way that got under her skin.

"dont." she warned you, failing to sound anything but turned on from the sound of that.

you smiled and kissed her again, groped her chest, got her worked up, because youd gotten a taste for it, how sensitive to every touch she was. you were dying to actually please her.

without thinking about it twice you put your arms around her and embraced her, which made her wrap her arms around your waist and say "you’re really getting to me, you know..".

you laughed against her neck, where your head was resting "sorry. I haven’t touched anyone in a while, so this feels nice". it was true, you couldnt remember the last time youd hugged someone that intimately. she nooded, "yeah. it does feel nice." both of you quiet in each others arms for a moment. blissed out. safe.

after a minute or so you both agreed that you should get dressed again and then got back to your seats in the front. once she pulled back onto the road and started driving again, both of you couldnt stop smiling, smug, quiet, listening to the radio.

a few minutes later she parked down the street of the dorms and killed the engine.

"so, how does the rest of your week look?" you asked, already trying to figure out when you could see her again.

Van thought about it. "well, let’s see. classes til four tomorrow, then weekend, thank god." she sighed, her hands still on the steering wheel.

"okay, I have til two but you’ll probably be tired tomorrow night after all that, so would you wanna do something on Saturday maybe? we could get coffee, go to your place after, something like that" you said, trying to sound casual.

she looked at you then, her face still unbearably pretty, rosy cheeks and lips. "I would love to, yeah. fuck grading, I can get that done on Sunday" a flicker of mischief in her eyes then that made her look young, like a girl.

"perfect. we could watch a film too. you could let me sleep over. I would also be happy to just watch you work the day after, you know, I can keep myself entertained." you were flirting without shame then, which made her blush, made her feel a bit nervous.

"okay, slow down" a touch to your shoulder.

you smiled and said "sorry, I am impatient I guess"

"don’t be sorry, no. it does sound really nice, all of that, I am just not used to it anymore" she said, a touch of vulnerability to her tone, which made you soften even more.

"not used to what?"

"having someone around. who likes me, wants to see me" she said, in a way that touched you.

"me neither" you assured her, which made her smile.

"thats pretty fucking hard to believe, you realize that, right?" she said, while eyeing you, her head tilted.

"why?" you asked, genuinely.

"well. youre lovely." the compliment hit you out of nowhere, so you shook your head and averted your gaze. Van was a bit beside herself with how fast she was letting you in, but it did feel good, so she didnt conceal the earnest thing she had said with a joke. she let it linger in the air.

"okay. I should go then, hm" you said, but before you could Van held your arm, gently.

"sorry, this sounds so fucking creepy and cliche but just so were both on the same page, this is between us, yes?". she asked, a hint of worry in her eyes.

you were amused by her implying that you were reckless and indiscrete enough to go around telling people, so you joked "really? I was just about to text the group chat that I am hooking up with the hot lesbian professor."

"okay very funny." she said, followed by "and don’t try to flatter me".

"I am not, it’s true, you know it is" you insisted, messing with her, which made her shrug in a way that told you that she was well aware of her status as kind of a heartthrob amongst certain students.

"but of course. I got it. I wouldn’t want anyone to ruin this for me anyway. I like keeping things that make me happy, private". you slipped up. that word. happy. the subtext, that she made you happy, after just one messy hookup in the back of her car.

Van nodded, grinning, " agree, yeah, me too" both in regards to the privacy and the happiness part.

you got up to leave then and the second a gust of freezing cold wind rushed into the car she remarked "oh god its really fucking cold". you turned your head back and teased "yeah. clever observation." which made her push you in the back and utter "fuck off. no I mean -" she looked at the rather thin shirt under your jacket and moved to do something.

"here wait" she said, as she took off her jacket and pulled her sweater over her head to hand it over to you. "put that over your shirt. I won’t have you catching a cold. sleep in it too if the dorms are as cold as my students said. it’s warm."

you tentatively took the dark green thick sweater from her, touched by the romantic gesture, and said "thank you" before getting changed into it, admitedly much warmer once you were bundled up in both her sweater and your jacket.

"looks nice" she said with a sly smile. "you can give it back to me when we see each other this weekend. and... no need to wash it before." a tone when she said that that made your whole face feel hot, yet again. the day suddenly seemed like the warmest one of the year so far, not the coldest. she was glad to see you a bit flustered.

as you got out of the car you said "have a good time in class tomorrow, Miss Palmer" messing with her a bit, looking back into the car, "easy." she said, a sternness to her tone that reminded you that she was in fact a teacher. it was hot to you. perhaps you would push your luck and call her that again eventually.

you leaned your head on the window that she had pulled down at the passenger side and smiled at her. "go on, leave be, I will text you" she said, waving you away, trying her best not to lose her mind.

"good. if you don’t, I’ll cry" you dramatically responded.

"save the tears for someone else. I will" she said, earnest in a way that did convince you that you were not going to be blown off by her. ever.

"okay, well, thanks for the ride home. very generous of you" you whispered to her, suggestively which made her start the car and say "okay, go, enough for one day, girl".

on your way up the snowy street, you looked around and were suddenly very grateful that the sudden extreme weather had kept you from driving that morning.

you were already looking forward to all the ways you could spend that winter warming yourself up with her help. melting for her.

[starseneyes]

Chenford REWIND - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 3 Eps 7 & 8

I had a request for Episode 8, but that would mean 7 was living in a bubble without a real anchor. So, I decided to pair these two together for a two-fer.

I also realized that by getting these two written up, I'll have finished an entire season. Huzzah!

SPOILER ALERT: Standard warning applies. Please don't click the "Keep Reading" and expect not to get spoiled. I'm going to spoil these episodes (and everything that came before) to pieces. I do try to write these without foreknowledge, just so you're aware.

Kosher? Cool. Let's dive in.

"True Crime" AKA Grumpy/Sunshine Meme Activated

Lucy and Tim's First Interview

It strikes me that even as Tim is sitting down, he's turned in and looking at Lucy. At this point, Lucy is comfortable to Tim. What they're about to do isn't.

Tim hates this, but he's gonna do it. I don't know if it was a direct order from Grey, or he wanted to make sure it was done right so he was going to do it, damnit, but he's here and he's not happy about it.

Lucy, on the other hand, is thrilled. Her True Crime loving heart is filled to bursting and no doubt she's researched every person who was going to be there so she could fangirl all the more. It's adorable.

Also, these two make for good television. I mean, we already knew that, but the pretend producers happening onto this had me rolling. I bet the True Crime fans call them "Chenford" and perhaps that's the way the term might make it into the show someday.

"I'm sorry, I cut you off. I'm sorry."

She's so damn excited! And they haven't quite gotten their back-and-forth rhythm down that they will later display with gusto. It's close once she calms down, but girlfriend is thrilled right now, and Tim's "this is bullshit" meter is rising with every passing second.

"This is fun."

Tim looks at Lucy like she's grown a second head. And I'm trying to pick myself up from the floor where I've been rolling with laughter.

Look, the Grumpy/Sunshine trope is beloved for a reason, and we always knew Tim and Lucy had it in them. We've seen glimpses of it before. But sitting them down in an interview situation for an hour? This is pure gold!

I wasn't a fan at the time of airing, so I can only imaging how many memes were born out of these moments. It's amazing.

"Holy crap." "What is it?" "It's a, it's a-" "A what?" "A mummy. In a suit." "What?!"

Because, what else would a Mummy under a bed wear, right?

Eric Winter has this really wonderfully exasperated way of saying, "What!?" where you can really hear both the exclamation point and the question mark.

It reminds me of David Tenant during his run on Doctor Who. There was an entire scene in the TARDIS where he said "What!?" several times, and that was pretty much all he had to say on his first meeting of Donna.

It's. So. Funny. To have the ability to make a word funny. David Tenant and Eric Winter share that "What!?" power, and I kinda think Tim would enjoy the reference (see Season 4 to understand why).

"What's that saying? Those who can't do, teach?" *laugh*

We got a Tim laugh!? I mean, he made himself laugh, but it's still so cuuuuute. Like, rough, tough, mean-faced Tim having a chuckle is somehow so endearing. Especially at this phase, when we haven't seen him even smile much.

FAST FORWARD: There will be a day when we see smiley Tim. If you're just watching for the first time and wondering if it's coming... Tim's arc is one of the most complete (thus far) of the show. Stay tuned...

"You were literally my teacher. What are you saying?"

Ah, yes, the one indication that this episode was written in a post-"Amber" world where Lucy is no longer a Rookie.

See, the early days of COVID were a fustercluck for productions. I happen to know some people who worked through it, and there were so many different models of how to cope with it, copious amounts of hand sanitizer, masks, zones, wait periods in hotels for a week after landing, etc.

Now, there are more structured COVID protocols, but in the early days we knew so little about what was happening, and it impacted productions, ended series before they began, and delayed some seasons of shows that have now been permanently shelved.

So, Season 3's episodes aired in a very strange order compared to how it was written. Now, I'm grateful that the writers established Lucy and Tim's new dynamic early in the season so that's it's consistent, even when she's no longer his Rookie. So, I don't feel the need to call-out the air date vs production number, much.

But since the lower third provided for Tim and Lucy identified her as a Rookie, we know that this is supposed to happen during her Rookie year. But this one word lets us know something is amiss, if we're really paying attention.

And, golly, it's a word. I'm not trying to be dramatic, but trying to clarify for anyone who might not be aware of the whole Pandemic-fucked-everyone-over nature of Season 3 that makes this one word out of place.

So, if you ever wondered why Lucy used past tense instead of present tense, there's your answer.

Synchronicity

The moment they learn someone they know has been affected, they turn to one another.

And I love the synchronicity, here. Tim and Lucy have worked together a year, at this point, and they are very in sync with one another.

FAST FORWARD: Watch them undercover in 5x01 with how they sort of shift with one another, as though there's a cosmic pull between them that waves and they move with it. I feel that the evolution of their synchronicity really starts here in Season 3.

"It's LA. It's not the first time I've found a script at a crime scene." "I've only been on the job for a year and I've already found three." "Have either of you ever written one?" "God, no." *silence* "It was for a class."

Because she knows how he feels about screenwriters. If only Caleb had said "screenwriter" as his profession because then Tim would've locked him up right away.

"He was trying to cut her out—from the script, the cult, and the money."

True Crime Kink Activated. Look at how Lucy Chen is scoping out her future husband when he rattles off some Law-and-Order level soundbite. Girlfriend is surprisingly turned on at those words rolling off of his tongue. Oooh, the places that tongue could go.

*ahem* Now, Lucy's not going to jump his bones anytime soon, but there's definitely a moment there where she's finding Tim Bradford a little hotter than usual.

Who would've known the key to Lucy's heart was an oxford comma?

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, right?" "Cool. Way to trivialize female anger." "Hey, I'm not trivializing. All sorts of crimes are motivated by jealous ex-partners." "And how many of those ex-partners are men?" "Most."

See!? See what I mean!? These two are hilarious. We've seen Lucy call Tim on stuff, before, but this format is allowing them to be hilarious with it.

And I love the way he gives her the side-eye before saying "most". It reminds me of the side-eye he will give Grey in a future episode when having to tell a story he'd rather keep private.

"I heard it was Office Chen who broke the case wide open." "I don't know if I'd describe it quite that way." "How would you describe it then?"

Married. This is so married. Because Lucy is giving him the "don't try me" wife face, glaring at her man on-camera for mass consumption.

The fact that he stares right back and doesn't turn to ashes is only because Lucy didn't want to commit murder on-camera. But I love the way Melissa O'Neil is playing Lucy's confidence in this episode.

"Her addiction to social media finally paid off." "That is hurtful."

I bet he's not even on Social Media. That makes it easier for whatever relationships he'll have along the way before he and Lucy finally get it together (I have faith). No need to change your relationship status online when you don't have it listed to begin with.

That said, Lucy's Mom totally has a shadow account that she uses to stalk her daughter to spy and see if she's found a stable man, yet.

The Wrong Video

I love how embarrassed Lucy is, and how Tim tries to get a look at what the heck she played before she gets it onto the right video. He looks actively concerned. Like, "Please don't tell me you're one of those 'dance challenge' girls because I was just starting to respect you."

And, look, no shade from me. But Tim Bradford likes to throw shade, and I'm betting he'd throw some on Lucy if he'd gotten a glimpse of that video.

"Okay, look, the case was definitely weird. But, I mean, come on, all this? This feels so exploitational. The low-hanging fruit of celebrity scandal and murder."

Tim is not wrong. A lot of what is on television relating to celebrity scandal is exploitative. But I love Lucy, here. Melissa O'Neil gets a lot to play with in this episode, and she does not let it go to waste.

She has nailed the withering sigh of your wife sitting beside you as she lets you rant and dig your own grave.

"You should be making serious documentaries about things that really matter." "My last film was about climate injustice in Puerto Rico. It won a BAFTA." "Oh. Well. Alright, then."

And Lucy's withering sigh has transitioned to a knowing look. Like, Tim, you need to talk to your wife about this stuff, more. She has the 411 and will keep you from getting embarrassed.

"You got, you got something in your hair." "What?" "It's kind of-." "Has it been there the whole time?" "Yeah, it's pretty big. Let's get out of here." "I would tell you if you had broccoli in your teeth, man. What the heck?"

Am I the only one who thinks there wasn't really anything there? Because, Tim is so ready to be done with this, and Lucy's high over doing the interview is totally annoying him.

"Bad Blood"

Breaking Up... In A Text

Look, this is totally the coward's way out... but when Lucy's face lit up to see his message, I might've vomited in my mouth a little.

So, seeing him break it off brought out a little cheer. Huzzah! But, oh, no, poor Lucy. But *whispers* huzzah Chenford *whispers*.

I've never had someone break up with me over text... because the only person I've dated since Text Messaging has been widely available is my husband. I remember the first time we saw people texting all the time in England and we couldn't quite get why.

But I did have a boyfriend break up with me over the phone on my 17th birthday... the week of prom... because he was cheating on me because I wouldn't sleep with my first boyfriend 2 months into dating him. Later found out the entire reason we dated was because he had a reputation as a "de-virginator" and none of our friends warned me. I don't keep in touch with most of them anymore.

So, while I'm not quite on Lucy's level of indignation, I understand the frustration to have your boo cut it off in the most cowardly way available.

And putting Tim in the middle!? Emmett, my man, what are you doing!? You already have one half of Chenford wanting to set you on fire. Piss of Tim and he'll happily help her finish the job.

"I can't believe him... breaking up with me by text? What is he, 14? He doesn't have the guts to do it in person?" "Most guys don't."

Tim looks over to Jackson on that beat. I bet Tim would never do that, but he's also only got his own limited experience. Jackson's actually dated other men, so he knows better than Tim, in this case.

"Look, just be happy he didn't ghost you." "Can we get to work now?" "Did Emmett talk to you about this?" "No. Why would he?" "Because you're friends." "We don't talk feelings. We drink and watch sports together." "That's guy for friends." "Straight guy for friends."

I think Lucy doesn't quite yet understand what Tim considers a "friend". Because, at this point Tim does have one solid friend. Angela.

And, yes, we are in the era of Tim and Lucy being friends, but I'd argue it isn't until Season 4 when they are as interwoven into each other's lives (if not moreso) than Tim and Angela.

Also to note... Lucy is holding her phone the entire scene. She quite literally can't let it go.

"Look, you want my advice-"

She does. Look at her open-mouthed, wide-eyed, hoping he'll say something to make this atrocity better. And she did tell him that she values his opinion.

Gosh, I wish I could tell her to lower her expectations right about now.

"Walk it off. Clearly he's the wrong guy for you."

As said by her future husband. What? I couldn't leave that alone! Emmett is definitely the wrong guy for Lucy. But Tim's still learning how to comfort Lucy, and this time wow did our boy get it wrong.

"It's the same advice he would give me if I got hit by a pitch. What is wrong with men?"

Trust me, Lucy. Someday you'll come to appreciate his sports metaphors. And find a new appreciation for baseball!

Yes, I try to write these without foreknowledge, but c'mon! It's right there!

"Have you ever been dumped out of the blue before?" "Let me think. One time my wife left the house in the middle of the night and I didn't see her again for two years."

Yeahhh... Um. I'm not touching that. Because Tim Bradford's being flippant, and it's warranted here.

But (yes, there's a but), Tim doesn't understand all of Lucy's hangups about how she sees herself, yet. He doesn't fully understand the weight of her mother's expectations. And how she has never felt enough.

Like, she can handle romantic rejection. She doesn't like it, but she can handle it. But why wasn't she worth a real breakup? That's what's playing in her head. She need to know the why. Why wasn't she good enough for some basic decency?

"Okay, I get it, in the grand scheme of things, this isn't that bad. I just want to know why. Can you please ask?"

If she can understand it, she can process it. But we all know Tim isn't asking his drinking buddy about his feelings—unless that feeling is about how he feels about the Rams not living up to their potential.

"He must've been a seriously hardcore guy for you to obsess like that. What was his main crime?"

Because Tim would only obsess if it was something important, right? Right!?

"3EYEZ tagged your shop back when you were a Rookie?" "My TO was chasing a suspect. I was guarding a vehicle full of evidence." "A vehicle that was ten feet away from your Shop. It's right in your notes."

I love how Tim's trying to rationalize this away. He has a habit of doing that when he's called out—trying to minimize his own embarrassment by stating facts. (Trust me, he does it at the beginning of 5x01 with Angela)

But, Timmy, Lucy's got the facts in her hands. And you totally dropped the ball.

"I was ordered to keep my eyes on the car. I'd just left the Army where you follow orders to a T."

He thinks this'll get her to back down, but Lucy's long past being afraid of Tim. In fact, she's openly laughing at him. And I low-key love it because this is a form of flirtatious teasing.

Look, these two have a completely unique language. Pranks. Embarrassing photos. And even this harmless giggling.

They're comfortable around each other, and by now they know what's crossing the line with each other. So, it doesn't bother me that Lucy's teasing him, here. In fact, I think it's adorable.

"Oh, man, I can just imagine the relentless teasing. Did they give you a nickname? Please say yes." *yoinks paper* "No."

But your eyes say yes. Wow, now I sound like some of those creepy Christmas songs from the 50's. You know the ones.

"That's why you're so intent on catching this guy. It's personal."

Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner! Look, when Tim tried to call in the cavalry when he first saw the tag, I wondered what the hell I was missing. Lucy, apparently, was, too.

Is this tag a symbol of a gang war? Or a killing spree? What terrible, horrible thing is going to happen because of this?

Nada. Nothing. Nil. Except maybe Tim Bradford's ego getting a bit bruised.

"Even if we were to track him down for tagging our Shop, it's a misdemeanor. Is that really the best use of our time?" *yoinks another paper* "I will get us a fresh Shop."

There's something so delicious about Tim's silent protest via yoinking those papers. And Lucy knows him well enough that they're done talking.

Look, these episodes aren't about pent up sexual tension or the angst of longing. These are foundational episodes, and what we're seeing is Tim and Lucy learning to work together. They're increasingly a unit in Season 3, even though Lucy spends most of it still his Rookie.

They're learning how to communicate with one another. So, if they ever do get their acts together, they're already going to have that part down pretty well.

"Let's go. Not a word about the Shop."

He knows her well enough to know that she'll tease him. She knows him well enough that if he says he doesn't want it, she's not going to do it.

See? They're communicating!

"What? You disapprove. You think I'm just dating him to make Emmet jealous? Heck, yeah. Maybe I am. But, he deserves it. Will you say something, please?"

Lucy processes by talking it out, we know, and when Tim doesn't interject, she starts projecting. Because even she knows going out with this guy isn't purely motivated. She's hurting and lashing out, and she knows it.

Tim's simply listening. But when she asks him to speak, he realizes that's what she needs.

See? Communicating!

"Today's the first time you've talked about Emmett in weeks." "You hate it when I talk about personal stuff."

Nice excuse. Look, Tim and Lucy are mirroring each other a lot this episode. They both have personal things that they're obsessing over that are clouding their judgment and thoughts.

And they're both rationalizing. Tim rationalized missing the tagger when he was a Rookie by saying he was just following orders. Lucy is rationalizing not talking about Emmett by defaulting to Tim's dislike of personal talk in the Shop.

They're both not thinking clearly. And, of course, it takes the other to help them get through.

"And yet you still do. But in all those conversations, you haven't said one word about your boyfriend." "What are you saying?" "Look, maybe Emmett treated the relationship like it didn't matter because you treated it like it didn't matter."

The realization hits her that he's right. It's one of those rare moments where Tim's the one helping Lucy examine herself. But that's what I love about them. They help refine one another. It's a give and take, and not just one person "healing" the other.

Tim and Lucy are on their own, personal journeys to healing and self-realization. But, I'll argue, each is a vital part of that journey. But to give one or the other full credit is to ignore the individual's effort to grow.

Tim and Lucy are growing together. And I love that so much more than one patching the other up. We're not patching up holes, we're actually healing. Yes, there will always be scars. But the healing makes it all so much more bearable, and so much easier to fully live, again.

But when he sees the realization hit her, his gaze softens. Tim hates to see her in pain. But we're not quite at the point where he's going to offer her comfort, especially on the job.

After all, Lucy is still his Rookie, and he needs to keep the lines firm between them. Because, if he were honest, he'd realize they're already getting blurrier and blurrier.

"Alright. Focus up. You read the file. Do you think 3EYEZ is done for the day?"

Tim's trying to get her back on track, like he has so many times before. But, Tim knows her well enough to know that sometimes barking out orders isn't enough for Lucy.

She needs something to help her switch her brain, something else to think about. They've done her mock-plan of how to sabotage her ex's wedding, before. This time, Tim tries a different tactic—he offers a piece of himself.

"Eagle Eye."

Lucy looks at him with confusion while I shove my face into a pillow so the kids don't hear me squealing and come running in here, mistaking it for screaming.

Tim doesn't have to do this. But he wants to. He wants to let Lucy Chen in just a little more.

"What?" "The nickname I got. After the Shop got tagged right under my nose." *giggle* "But it wasn't my TO who came up with it. It was Isabel. It kind of became her pet name for me." "Aw. That's sweet."

It's still hard for him to talk about Isabel. Those wounds are still healing, even though he's tested the dating pool a little. And it's important to remember that he and Isabel did have good times. There was a time when Tim had a lot of happiness in his life.

But he opens up a little to Lucy, here. He gives her insight. He gives a little of himself. And that's huge. He's starting to talk about Isabel without tearing up, without scowling, without the same agonizing pain striking his chest.

It still hurts. To a degree, it'll always hurt. But it's starting to heal. And I love that when he's starting to get healthier, the first person who gets to see it is Lucy.

We're not to the point of them swapping saliva and dreaming of the other's taste. But, we're building a really solid friendship. Heck, Lucy giggled when Tim opened up just now.

And I've talked about it a bit in this Meta, but I think it's important to draw out that Lucy has become comfortable to him. Why is this important?

FAST FORWARD: Remember the famous double date of S4? Why did Tim invite Lucy? Because he wanted a source of comfort in this truly uncomfortable situation. So, later when Bargain Barbie remarks about his creature comforts and about how he needs to get out and do more... nobody takes into account that Lucy is one of his comforts. So, once he and Lucy start dating, they are out all the time together. Why? Because he doesn't need all the other comforts when he's with her. Lucy is his comfort.

Thank y'all for reading and going on this journey with me. I think with this Meta, I've finished my tour of Season 3! It was a short season, so that made it a bit easier to chunk out.

And sorry this one took so long. My roof's leaking and it looks like I'm emptying out my 401K to replace it. It's always something, but I remain grateful. I've faced my death a few times in my lifetime, so every day I'm given is an absolute gift.

Just gotta take it one breath at a time.

[foxbirdy]

Help, I'm kinda stupid (bad brain disease and chronic illness shit) and scared but I really am wanting to do field work shit. I'm almost graduated from college but feel like I learned pretty much nothing and don't feel like I'm employable at all. I am highly motivated but I just like, don't know what the future holds!! How do you be a person with a job? How do you do the difficult things you do?

Hello ♥️ before I get into this I must give a disclaimer: I am by no means an expert! I am just some guy. I can share what I've had smacked into me over the course of my adult life, but it's definitely not gospel. Take anything I say about my own lived experience with a grain of salt, because it might not necessarily be true for you! Ok. Disclaimer over, let's get into it:

1 - Anon, you are not stupid. If you almost have a degree, you are killing it! I cannot even tell you how many people I know in field work who hated getting their undergrad with the passion of a thousand suns, and scraped through it by the skin of their teeth! I know lots of people who don't have degrees at all, and have no intention of getting one! Be proud that you almost have your degree.

2 - I do not have my degree! I am still working on it. I have a couple semesters to go. Everything I have done has been in the context of being a student, or someone with some college coursework and some practical experience. My brain is also not designed for the higher education system! The ADHD that makes me miserable in university work (understimulated, unfulfilled, unfocused) is also what makes me thrive in the field (performs best in high-stress environments, prefers novelty to routine, settled by working with my hands and body, excellent multitasker, intense focus on physical project work). Do not equate your ability to be a model college student with your employability.

3 - You already have the chiefest qualification required for fieldwork, which is that you are highly motivated! I've said this before, phrased differently, but the quality that most opportunities are looking for in a candidate is sheer audacity. The willingness to do crazy shit. The belief that you can do anything if you try hard. They need someone who's motivated enough (or unhinged enough) to say things like: "Yes, I will sleep on the ground. Yes, I will eat weird food. Yes, I will hike into work every day, hauling gear. Yes, I will not go crazy if I can't access the internet for weeks at a time. No, I will not turn homicidal if I'm working, eating, and sleeping with the same eight people for months. No, I've never driven a truck and trailer, but I will learn how. No, I don't have that certification, but I will get it. No, I've never used that software, but I will figure it out." If you can a) endure difficulty with enthusiasm, and b) not be phased by unknowns, you are more than halfway there.

4 - Put yourself out there! Drag yourself out of your comfort zone, within reason. Apply to things you think you have no chance of getting! Apply to things that scare you a little! Do research. Figure out what you want to do, and start where you can. Ask for help - it will make you connections! The worst that anyone can say to you is "no," and that isn't so bad. Sometimes it's easy, and sometimes you have to work at a coffee shop for a few months in-between jobs. Sometimes you'll have to wait for weeks to get more information on travel, and sometimes you have to pack your bags and get in your car within 72 hours. Go with the water cycle, move with the ups and downs. Be confident, be adaptable, have audacity, and nail your resume to the door of anything that looks cool. Godspeed and good luck out there!

[witchthewriter]

Heyyy luv!! Can I request a level 4 matchup of The Hunger Games, Marvel and Harry Potter if it’s not too much?? My pronouns are she/her btw 🫶

Sexuality: not sure, ig I’ll just let it happen

Hogwarts house: Gryffindor

MTBI: ENFP

Ennagram: Type 8

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius sun, Libra moon, Aquarious Venus and Leo rising

I’m 5’3, and my body type is hourglass. I have golden blond hair and light green eyes, full lips and I really enjoy smiling, with a few freckles and beauty marks in my face. My hair is wavy and long, I really like styling it in different hair styles and ways. My aesthetic is kinda indie and kinda a modernized Y2K (low rise jeans is a no go) but ily experimenting with fashion and different styles, colors and aesthetics. I’m described as stubborn, friendly and studious, and I’m always trying to be perfect, which can get really overwhelming since I struggle with anxiety and would really love a S/O that could help me with. I’m really sarcastic and I enjoy making people laugh, and Ig my love language is physical touch or words of affirmation bc I want the people I love to feel loved🫶

I love reading, fashion, cooking , singing, music, rainy days and drawing! I’m a cheerleader and I enjoy dancing!! I’m deffo a dog person although I love cats and think they are so cute!! My biggest phobia is death and I can get really protective of my loved ones. I hate bullies and people who misjudge others, and my biggest pet peeve is chewing with an open mouth the noise really annoys me.

Have a great day/night!! Luv u🫶

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒆, 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆! As you’ll see with your other ships below, to me you would do well with others who like to smile and laugh as much as you do. 

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・You guys go on so many adventures. Well, anywhere you go with Valkyrie is an adventure. She has a lot of street smarts, and you never feel unsafe when she’s around. Somehow Valkyrie can always keep her cool

・Calls you ‘Hunny buns,’ ‘sweet-stuff,’ ‘sugar-pie.’ Anything lovey-dovey really. She doesn’t care who hears either. She has that much respect that no one would dare make fun of her

・Gets you out of her comfort zone, while prioritising your well-being. So she won’t push you to do something than leave you hanging. She’s with you every step of the way

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

↬  All Lit Up by Craig Armstrong

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑾𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒚! I think you would understand why Fred is so hyperactive, so ready to make a fool of himself for other’s enjoyment. You have a similar outlook on the world. We all need to smile more. 

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・He’s incredible at making conversation. There’s never that awkward pause of: ‘should I say something, or should I wait for them? Am I talking too much?’ Basically you never feel self-conscious either. 

・Deeply romantic but slow to show it. He and George make great plans, and you show him that he can use that skill in other areas of his life. So he chooses his love-life to show it

・Always makes you feel included. Will ask you to go with him everywhere, or automatically assumes you’ll come with him

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

↬ A Starry Night by Joel McNeely

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑶𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓!  It hurts you to know what he went through. But you met while in hiding at District 13′s bunker. Annie hadn’t made it, she died at the Capitol. You were healing to him. Your very presence makes him forget his grief.

𝐻���𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・When he wants to cuddle, be prepared for a cuddle-attack. He’ll have his arms wrapped around you for hours. CEO of: ‘No I Don’t Want You To Go’

・Very playful and says such witty things. He’s also incredibly flirty and can make you blush all the time

・He also makes sure you never feel alone. He hates the feeling of loneliness - since it’s like a raincloud that never leaves. So when he can stop you from feeling that way, he jumps on the opportunity 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

↬ Sanctuary by James Newton Howard

[quaranmine]

Hey I’m the person who sent an ask about a week ago about HTBAHB. It’s 3:30am and I meant to go to sleep hours ago, but I decided to start I’ll be waiting here till the stars fall out of the sky before bed with the intention of reading 1 chapter at most, and just finished all 4 that have been published. I was so hooked by the end of the first chapter, there was no way I could put it down. I know your main focus is firewatch for now, but I just want you to know that whenever this gets unpaused someday, I’ll be beyond thrilled. It’s so good, your writing just hooks me in. It may be a good thing that’s all that’s uploaded, or I’d be up till dawn reading. You’re amazing at getting all the hermit’s voices down too, it really sounds like them, to the point that I find myself reading it in their actual voices in my head. I just want to thank you again for the amazing works, I look forward to probably starting firewatch next!

anon i think i want to marry you

no but!!! thank you so much for these asks you have sent me lately!! i'm really happy you liked the stories. asks like these (as well as comments) definitely do give me more motivation to work on i'll be waiting (IBW as I always shorten it to.) I also really appreciate your comment about having the hermit's voice down because I always fear I struggle with characterization and IBW was especially daunting with 26 characters to keep up with. This story was sort of a "bit off more than I could chew" moment because it threw me pretty far out of my comfort zone. There was a lot to keep track of, lots of people to characterize, and hermits I was worried I wouldn't be able to do justice to. I felt a lot of anxiety about working on it and swung wildly between hating my plot and outline versus thinking it was fine. I'm always of the mind that fandom should be fun, and if it's not fun anymore, then you're either doing it wrong or need to go take a break. So....I wasn't having fun with the story anymore.

however, taking a break on it has been good because it gave my brain a rest from worrying about it all the time. whenever i'm working on a fic it takes up tons of my brain space--i'm coming up with random pieces all the time, whether that's driving down the highway or during a particularly boring work meeting or going to bed. if a project starts to stress me out? that's a lot of time to be stressed out! but after spending these few months with a different project (one that came significantly easier to me) and not really thinking or working on it, i have found myself circling back to IBW again. this time, i have a few more thoughts or ideas surrounding it. more of a fresh slate.

so i definitely am not considering it a cancelled story or anything!! unfortunately i don't think i can work on two long fics at the same time without throwing off progress on both of them, so it'll probably have to wait until later.

that's a long ask to just say...i really appreciate this comment IBW and the htbahb series as a whole and your support <3333

[steamishot]

T-2 months

it's now officially under two months until the big move. i can't wait. until then, there are three events to look forward to: my texan aunt and cousin visiting NYC, going to boston for a fancy whipipo wedding (my first ever) and seeing K again, and lastly, switzerland.

the 4 weeks of matt's jury duty flew by. by the last week, we had to really coordinate being out of the apartment at different times so that each person could get alone time. i would go to the lounge or ceramics when he was at home. when he was at jury duty, i would be home. he finally returns to the hospital tomorrow. he only has 2.5 more week shifts to go before its the end of this NYU era.

ceramics: lately, i've been trying to go to ceramics like 4-5x/week. i'm getting the hang of throwing things one day, trimming the next, and putting it to fire as soon as possible. even if the pieces are imperfect, i just throw them in there. i have received six pieces back so far and they're much bigger and more usable than the ones i made at my first japanese studio. i recently just made my first mug (wheel throwing for the body and handbuilding for the handle) using a not neutral latte cup for inspiration. hopefully it also comes out usable. ceramics friend LG is out of town for the month of july, but i'll see her for a little bit in august.

work: in the last 1.5 weeks or so, i've been spending 1-2 hours per day with the new hire A. in the beginning, i *felt* (but obviously did not show it) very frustrated and impatient because she was really slow. sometimes i would show her things one day, and she would not recognize it the next day. she would come off as overwhelmed with all the different types of trainings she did. when we went over different systems, it seemed she had no prior knowledge of it despite completing the trainings. anyway, i appreciate that this year, i get to teach instead of do. and i must say that it is rewarding once she actually gets it. this is also the MOST time i've ever spent with a colleague, so in a sense, it does help me feel more connected to my work.

NYC: i can appreciate NYC and the hustle and bustle of this city in increments, but every time i'm here for too long (after the first initial couple of years), i feel quite unhappy. there is a sense of "stuckness". one, because our apartment is very small. two, we lack community. and also in the grander scheme, i generally have little interest in the events/things that the city has to offer minus my ceramics and yoga classes. i can only eat so much, and i naturally prefer nature/less dense areas. i'd rather not deal with crowds anywhere - and they're pretty much everywhere here.

i learned that my general unhappiness has been directed towards picking fights with matt, or taking it out on him in general. i need to keep myself in check and try my best to keep myself busy with my own interests. only ~1.5 more months of being here to go!

vaca: this past weekend, matt and i went to miraval berkshires for the first time using chase points. we took a two hour train up north, and was picked up by a driver from the resort. they drove about another hour or so to arrive at lenox, MA. this is an all-inclusive experience that is similar to alila that we did last november. however, we had a much better experience here. the experience imo (coming from a stressed out place) is life-changing and healing. the weather, although very hot, was nice and relaxing. their food was healthy and nutritious. i'm going to miss their bone broth and golden milk shots.

our activities for three days included: kayaking, massage, fancy dinner, chicken keeping, hike, tennis, spa, lounge/read by the pool, and beekeeping. for each activity that was led by a miraval group leader, we had to practice "connect before content". we basically had to share our names and do an icebreaker for each. college-aged connie would have hated this, but i did appreciate hearing from other people and getting out of my comfort zone. they did a really good job at fostering a community feeling. it felt like a short summer camp for adults, and i wish we could have stayed even longer. there were so many classes we didn't get to try.

miraval also has digital free zones and encourages us to be without our devices as much as possible. the dining area is a digital free zone, so that we can connect/talk more with each other.

after this trip, i'm inspired to possibly one day chicken keep and beekeep, lol. it would be awesome to eat freshly laid eggs and honey from my own backyard. chickens may be my preferred "pet" of choice as of now. i had fun with tennis too and might pick it up in LA (if the courts are available). in the morning today, i was already dreading coming back to NYC. here i am and journaling to release some thoughts.

[lovesaadiqa]

the unthethered soul

this book is one that keeps on giving or growing me i should say. my second time reading it helped me realized the different spaces i was in before and now. i seldom go back and read my entries, its kinda of cringe for me especially when i don't see in growth from one post to another, stagnation makes me sad. anyway i cried alot the first time i read this book and this time im highlighting like hell. just to catch me up, ive been driving over the road for 5 months now, initially soothing myself with music, empty conversation from random people and as dangerous as it sounds, tv, movies and murder mysteries. the last 30 days has been silent asf on my truck, no nothing! the window down and my thoughts. i gave the book another go round but ive been applying what im reading and this shit is no joke! ive learned how to know when im in the seat of self, how to be aware of my awareness, how to watch my emotions form, how to disconnect from what im seeing and pay attention to how whatever it is im seeing is making me feel. amateur at best but today was another monster and i can see how i definitely will need my awareness to grow and how consistency will play a major role in how fast i can find my freedom.

its 4th of july, no the weekend, the literal day. i'd been driving for 4 hours and go to my receiver super early because when i started my route i forgot the time zone was going to change. i arrived at 1:30 cst and am told the ppl who unload me was changing shifts and i'd have to wait until 3:45.. there's no pressure but its hard asf to find parking in general but especially on a holiday or weekend so idgaf about nothing but finding parking because im less than 1/2 mile aware from a flying j and dont wanna have to get back on the highway to find parking. i get back in my truck, eat and get on social media. i can feel someone unloading me but it's nowhere near 3:45 so i grab my paperwork and march my ass inside hype like "yes, imma be outta here soon" i get in a realize it was an over zealous worker who came in early for holiday pay (i'd still have to wait for my paperwork to get signed). someone shows up in the office right at 3:45 and im told they have to count and verify my freight which would be at least 30-45 more mins. im ok with that because my appt time wasn't until 5pm and im already unloaded before 4. it's gets dumb tricky because im notified im counted and good to go, i get inside and the guy who is to give me my papers says i have to pay a lumper fee. i've never in all my months had to pay a lumper fee, in fact i don't know wtf that is so i call my dm and I get Matt (he's a rude sob and hate hearing his damn voice) who tells me i have to send a message form. i do as im told but get a reference number on my tablet that says give this to the ppl inside to pay, i get inside give them the code and they tell me to put it in the payment slot on the text they sent (in my head im screaming "what fucking text") -- fuck the rest of the story

as im walking back and forth from my truck to the receiver i can feel the agitation building, my responses are on the rude side, i can hear my consciousness forewarning me that im getting heated. i tried to feel what was happening inside of me as im also trying to remain professional. i tell myself that im only frustated because i dont think im going to be able to find parking, im losing it becasue wtf is a lumper fee and wtf you mean i have to pay it, what text did you send me on top of hearing "western express this is Matt" lmmfaooooo. i get to the fucking gate to leave and the bitch gone say "can you pull all the way up im pregnant and i dont feel like walking to the back of your trailer. i legit wanted to run her tf over because bitch you at work and pregnant ppl arent handicapped HOT!!!! In the time it took me to tell myself to calm and actually calming down i ran a stop sign and drove past the flying j entrance.

then i get to my lil to do list and im supposed to read a chapter: Removing Your Inner Thorn (im literally fighting back tears writing this) the second fucking sentence "In order to grow, you must give up the struggle to remain the same, and learn to embrace change at all time" ATE ME TF UP! Im not the same because now i have the awareness to spot, feel and identify my emotions before they have me in a chokehold. knowing all that i still copped an attitude and let them run me. this chapter talks about have a literal thorn piercing a nerve and the options you have to avoid the pain. first option is to avoid anything that will touch, bother, graze, tap, irritate your torn.. second option, remove the fucking thorn all together! a few lines that made me legit get my laptop, come into the pilot and write this entire entry: if you decide you have to keep things from touching the thorn, then that becomes the work of a lifetime; the life of protecting yourself from the problem becomes a perfect reflection of the problem itself; you can actually fell that because you've minimized the pain of the problem, you've solved the problem.. all you did was devote your life to avoiding it; the problem will be back the moment the external situation fails to protect you from what's inside; you are not the pain you feel; the thorns naturally work themselves out if you stop protecting them; you do no get rid of loneliness (or any thorn sadness, depression, anxiety, short temper, a broken heart, abdandonment) you just cease to be involved with it, it just another thing in the universerse like cars, glass or the stars.

i cant began to explain how i did the work and then read the book. there is no joy like getting it. i understand now. im praying for more situations to arise so i can better at this and win inner peace for myself. the ultimate goal for me is to sit in the seat of self and remain there.. i just know with my whole heart i will read this book until the cover falls off because it is a complete guide to spiritual freedom, in my opinion. i have about 6 books on my truck right now and this one is the most got a second read before i finished any of the other one for a first time. im happy to be here. in this space, with this awareness and the understanding of what to do with it and how if benefits me. i will get so fucking good at this!!

i hope when you come back to read this it wont be cringe babygirl. i wish you nothing but healing and total well being. to think that coming face to face with a pain that made you know want to wake up no more got you here is nothing but God's love for you. its so important to realize that it was all necessary! forgive, relax and release Saadiqa but most importantly remain thank for it all. equipped with the know-how to watch your thoughts and detach from them should make this journey so fucking delicious. you are awareness and EVERTHING else is an object of your consciousness. the feelings, the thoughts that get stuck on repeat, other people, aging, your body.. all of it. just a thing/things you've become aware of, they are not you. never, ever, ever forget that. leaving the seat of self is such a massive step down that some people do it for a single thing and they're never able to return again. that is the prize, the gift of a life lived. Chapter 8 over and over and over and over again!!!! please get this Saadiqa it is my life's wish for you NEVER STEP DOWN!

[miss-lauryn-hill]

Good morning/ night Tee! It's your psc secret Santa again. I hope you'll have fun at Vegas ♥️🎄 I don't currently have anything planned for Christmas, but it's probably going to be the usual dining out with friends and family 🍽️

Here are some asks for you so I can get to know you better 🤗 feel free to answer as many or as few as you'd like (also let me know if you want to keep getting these kinds of asks 🫶)

1. How long have you been giffing and what got you started? Or any stories along the way, I love hearing all about people's creative processes ♥️

2. What are your favourite shows/ movies you've seen from 2022 and what are your all time favourites?

3. What is your personality/ personality type (enneagram/mbti/ anything you use)? What are your favourite and/or least favourite part(s) of your personality?

4. Favourite subject(s) in school or just favourite activities you like to do in general?

5. What is your dream job/ occupation if you don't have to worry about anything, like paying rent or whether they would hire you or what would your parents/ others think that kind of stuff? 🤣

6. Any other things you'd like to share about yourself 🫶

Your secret santa ♥️

good time zone friend 🥰 whatever do you mean? that sounds like a good plan to me! do you stick to the basics or does your family try different types of food every year?

oh nah keep them coming if anything i’ll annoy you before you ever will me. reddit ama hours over here.

1. about five years? i started my first blog back in 2012 or something and got heavily invested in atla and then teen wolf. wild times. i liked kataang, maiko and stalia so my blog was like a fucking war zone. i do not mind the alternatives though so don’t cancel me. my gifing process varies tbh. sometimes i try others i don’t and it’s always the sets that i don’t put much time or thought into that get traffic i hate it here so much. as far as the actual steps i do this.

2. this year was a fucking fever dream. i remember nothing. like this event? i had to google what came out and when i saw that moon knight was this year i was fucking floored. and that was like what? a few months ago. all i remember is black panther 2, renaissance, midnights and sos but that came out last night so. all time favorites are atla, insecure, daredevil, punisher s1, jessica jones, beauty and the beast, hercules, gossip girl except for s6. idk her.

3. enneagram type nine. i don’t really have a favorite? like irl people think i’m funny but i’m really just saying shit not really trying to be. like i feel like there’s a difference. oh wait no i like that i don’t take things personally. if that doesn’t count just smile and nod for me. least favorite is that i talk too much. not like telling people’s business or some shit but more of that should’ve stayed in the drafts or delete this. i also curse too much. so let me know if that bothers you and i’ll try to tone down.

4. i feel like this means the basic k-12 but forget that i fucking love psych. i love editing. like you know those fan made trailers? that was my entire personality in middle school and high school. then i found out that you could do that and get paid? game changer. and of course gifing, long-boarding, video games, i’m thinking about getting into glassblowing.

5. a celebrity makeup artist. like imagine picking up your phone and seeing a text from beyoncé telling you she has an event and needs you to do her makeup in london or some shit. OR an heiress.

6. i really want to move to hawaii.

pulling a reverse uno card here on all of these questions to you. but only if you feel like sharing of course.

[messers-moony]

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.” 

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

[proserpina-magnus]

☘️ - NSFW alphabet

James Potter if haven't done one

This is a little choppy but I hope you enjoy it! Mwah.

James Potter NSFW Alphabet

Reader: tried to keep it as nb as possible )

Warning: pure smut and no editing

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Super comforting and he’s really affectionate. He loves to massage your back (which will probably lead to another round). And he does that cute thing where he’d rub his nose against yours. He’d cover you in blankets and literally would hand feed you if he could. He basically forces you to drink water as well.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your thighs, he likes placing his hands on them and laying in between them.

He likes his stomach since he’s worked really hard on it over the last couple of years with quidditch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He will wear a condom only if you want, but he’d much prefer to go without. He’s pull out game is strong as fuck and he usually cums over your ass or thighs, sometimes even stomach.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

James wants to do collaring and he’s been fascinated and keeps daydreaming about being your good boy or having the opposite and getting you a collar that says “daddy’s _____” (preferred nicknames like girl or boy, etc).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s pretty experienced without actually have experience, he wants first times to be important so he was actually waiting for the right one (which happened to be you). He can definitely find his way around your body with ease, who knows how he knows how to do it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, he likes have your knees over his shoulders and takes his sweet time making the moment last as long as possible.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a sap so he try’s not to be humourus, he wants the sex to be romantic and he can’t risk turning you off with one of his lame dad jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s a mess, he’s tried to shave it, comb it, trim it, it’ll just grow back. It definitely matches his head hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like said before, James wants the sex to be romantic. He likes holding your hand and kissing your shoulder’s and lips until they're rosy. He just wants to take care of you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pretty often, he gets stressed sometimes so he’ll just get out a quick wank before heading to class in the morning or late at night.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He has a ton, d/s is very present and the roles switch between you both often. Power play is a must and he has a big thing for bondage, he loves all the different knots and shapes, he thinks the ropes look pretty against your skin. There’s others like makeup, he weirdly finds it attractive when mascara runs down your cheeks.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Usually in his dorm, he prefers to have his time and spend every second admiring and taking care of you. He rarely would want to do something out of order and he needs a quick notice before trying a new location. He usually promises you he’ll satisfy you later if you become needy during class or at hogsmeade.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything, fuck me eyes go along way for him. Sometimes you don’t even mean to get him going and he’s rushing you up to his dorm. He likes the uniforms too, he’d purposely mix up your robes or house ties just so people would know you’d belong to a certain wizard.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’d like spanking to a minimum, but the second he sees blood he freaks out. Even bruises make him worry and he’d begin to cry and kiss over it, promising you he’d never mean to hurt you and he’d be super careful next time.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving it, since he likes the stability of cumming down your throat. But if he’s subby he’s prefer to give you pleasure, he just wants to please you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends, sometimes after a quidditch game (depending if he won or lost) he’d take it out on you, rough and fast sex was a must so he could released all of his pent up tension. But then he’d get really soft and gentle to soothe over the rough behaviour. If he’s subby, he’ll let you control everything.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Personally he doesn’t like it, a quick blow job in between classes is alright with him or even a quick fuck in the showers in the changing rooms, but he prefers his time and he’d rather have you all to himself for a few hours.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not necessarily, he likes boundaries so you both talk over them often and he’d just do whatever was in the green zone. Sometimes if he’s being a hard dom he’ll try a risky move, wait for you reaction and depending on that he’ll keep it up or drop it immediately.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh boy… he’s not the Gryffindor quidditch caption for nothing. He’s athletic, charming, and a golden retriever boyfriend. He definitely can go for 4 or 5, depending on his mood and on time, since it doesn’t take much to make him cum.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t, he’s a bit embarrassed but he definitely isn’t opposed to watching you play with yourself. He actually loves mutual masterbation and he enjoys watching you show him all the things that make you feel good.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He hates teasing you but loves when you tease him, every little look or if you grab his arm for protection, he’s creaming in his pants. Whenever you whisper in his ear, even if it isn’t sexual, he’s gulping and fixing his trousers.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Subby James moans a lot, he whines and whispers and he likes to talk. But more dominant James groans and whispers cusses (which is the only time he rarely swears because he hates cuss words).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He enjoys morning sex way to much, he likes the sunlight beaming in and the slow and groggy movements due to being sleepy, he loves the little whines and enjoys the cold air from the morning cooling off his hot skin.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A solid nine inches, come on he’s James Potter. He’s quite proud of it too, smirking whenever he see’s a tummy bulge or even when you have trouble standing after sex.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s high to the extreme, he never knew how horny he truly was until he began to date you. Every day he wanted to take you to his dorm and try new things, he wanted to be cocooned in between your legs.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he’s had a long day, it doesn’t take long. He’s a gentleman so he’ll kill you to sleep before he passes out, but sometimes you’d get back from the bathroom and see him sprawled out, a big grin on his face.

--

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Our Angel | Chapter 4: Sell Your Soul

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

Summary: You are hired to pleasure a lonely Mandalorian. It’s just a paycheck. |Post Season Two

Read it here:

(Personal preference)

Wattpad

Archive Of Our Own

Individual Chapter Warnings: Grumpy!Din, P in V (rougher than the usual), unlabeled illnesses, anxiety, etc.

Authors Notes: Kinda scared with the whole tumblr tags thing… we shall see!

Word Count: 5.9K ish

"Whoa!-h" Your breath is sharply cut. "M-Mando! You see the ship!"

You couldn't quell your childish enthusiasm even if you were about to topple over the edge of bliss. You had never seen a ship flying through space before, despite being in one.

He only grunts in response, hands anchored to your hips—probably not even looking out the window of the cockpit but watching as he repeatedly disappears inside of you.

"Is that," you squeak for a moment when you're incapable of producing a different sound, "a X-s'wing?"

He groans again, hand returning to the back of your neck so he can lean forward and see what you were referring to out the window. The change of angle with the way you were now pressed deeper into the cockpit controls made you choke off a sob. After Hoth, he has had you in the cockpit a couple of times. None of them while you were in hyperspace, thankfully, but it is probably his favorite spot. You make a mental note and sacrifice that fact that after each time, your breasts are dented with the outlines of levers and buttons.

"Transport ship," he bites out, harsh, unimpressed.

Stupid girl, you could all but hear him say, everyone knows that. But you fall over the edge before you can give it another thought.

—-

"The soup is on the stove," you hum, looking up from your latest drawing, "we gotta eat the last of the fresh stuff before it goes bad."

He doesn't respond; he just opens the lid and looks down at the pot. Examining the contents with tense shoulders.

"I uh." He grabs a bowl from the cabinet - still not speaking. "I will get more the next time we are in civilization."

He fills the bowl with the steaming broth and heads back up the ladder, not saying a word.

Okay… that was weird.

It's not that you required a thank you, in fact, you didn't care. But that was completely like night and day to how he usually is. Did you say something? The ship is so big and empty, your paths hardly cross. You normally only see him when he seeks you out for sex, and even then, you don't say much. You always try to be friendly regardless—had to be for any customer service job—and he still was tipping you fine.

You scold yourself for overanalyzing every detail. He's covered in armor; how could you know if his shoulders were tense. He hardly says anything anyways. Maybe he is dealing with a slippery bounty and was deep in thought. You were probably just being annoying by talking.

—-

"I got a perfect score on my Midi-chlorian paper! Mr. Aphra says I should enter it in the Athleticon for a scholarship. He says I actually have a good chance!"

Mazey's blue hologram beams from ear to ear. You haven't seen her this happy in months. Mando has been out for a few hours now, and you were watching the triplet sunrise out the cockpit window when she called.

"Wait, Mr. Aphra? I thought you hated him?"

"I do!" She giggles, "But he rarely gives compliments. That's why I'm so excited about it."

Her hologram flickers.

Mazey begins a heated (and somewhat angry?) rant about Midi-chlorians. She made a passionate argument supported with statistics, lab reports, and eye-witnesses… You zoned out within the first few minutes, math was never your strong suit, but you didn't stop her. You missed her inflections, the way her brows furrowed when she had an idea, or how her bottom lip caught behind her teeth. Most of all, you missed her voice. Your apartment was small for the four of you, so there was always something loud bouncing off the walls, whether it was the newest holo, Tim, or Mazey complaining about her midterms.

Mando was not much of a conversationalist. And the issue with being in space was: it's a vacuum. The sounds stopped at the occasional beeping and the steady hum of the engine.

So you enjoyed every minute here with Mazey.

"So, how much is the scholarship?"

The oranges in the sunrise slowly fade into soft pinks.

She swallowed, "Four years tuition, housing, and transport fees for the whole family."

Holy bantha dung.

It's a way out.

"Mazey," you murmur, "It's okay if you don't get it. We will make do either way."

"Let me hope," she whispers. You both know throwing everything away on a whim is dangerous—plenty of people in Canto Bight can tell you that—but hope is what keeps you fighting another day. What gets you out of bed every morning.

It is even more dangerous— and crushing.

"We will make do either way," you repeat, but the faraway look in her eyes tells you she didn't really hear.

"How is your," she pauses, "mechanic job?"

Mazey is too smart to be stuck on Cantonica.

"Good!" you choke on your spit, "lots of stuff to do!"

"Hmm," her eyes narrow, "the credits roll in at odd hours of the day. And in seemingly random intervals."

She knows. And you know she knows you know. Whatever that means.

You gather your completion, "That must be a holo glitch of some sort. I will see what I can do. But besides that, you guys are getting the credits, okay?"

The warmth in her face and the sparkle in her eye returns, "Yes. Mom got through another round of medicine without any checks bouncing. Oh and Ti—"

"HI, SIS!" You see Tim's nose flashes across the holo.

"Hey, bud!" You laugh, "What's new with you?"

"Look," he squeals, a noise you didn't realize you missed, "I got a toy from the cereal!"

"Yes," Mazey explains, "we splurged and got Tim the cereal with the mystery…"

She trails off, suddenly looking sad, regretful.

Her eyes darted up quickly to meet yours, "I'm sorry, is that—"

"No," you interrupt without thinking twice, "buy him the cereal he likes."

Then softer, "Please."

You both exchange a look, an acknowledgment for words you would never dare to speak. Words she eloquently avoids and makes you feel comforted all the same.

"If at any point you want to come home, you can. We will make do either way."

Mazey just paraphrased what you had told her moments before. But the thing is: there is no other way.

In Cantonica, there is only gambling.

And pleasure.

You've already sold your soul.

"But you are not going to do that, are you?"

"No. I'm not."

——

You spoke with Mazey and Tim until the Batuu sunrise lost its color and sent strips of light into the cockpit.

Now, with Mando's gruffed permission—he still seemed off— to leave and shop around at the nearby market stalls, you took a deep breath and enjoyed the clean, crisp air.

Batuu was quite simply beautiful but not in the rolling hills traditional sense. Yes, the planet had a fair share of those too, but the towering rocks gave Batuu a storied past.

You follow along a river; a group of kids swing off a rope tied to a tree into the creek. You chuckle as you pass. Finally, the marks in the path became denser indicating you were getting closer.

The marketplace here was more developed than the one in Takodana; each trading post was a stand-alone domed building surrounded by the iconic chiseled rocks.

You look up past the tops of the domes to see the trees resting at the very tops of the rock tower and above them, the swirling clouds and the soft triplet suns.

You return your gaze to the shop in front of you, there were fruits you recognized, thanks to your holo shows, from all across the galaxy. More fruits still you had never seen before.

But you feel obligated to enter when your eyes meet the shop owner, an older woman with a bird resting on her shoulder and a pink hat.

"Bright suns," you smile, the traditional Batuu greeting.

"Bright suns indeed," she echoed, encouraging you to explore further into the store.

"Do you barter instead of taking credits here?" You ask, removing your charcoals and paper from the bag you brought with you.

The woman gave you a curious look, and the bird tilts its head to the side.

"I'd like to make an offer."

——

Your journey back to the ship was strenuous because you carried so many bags.

The woman loved the drawing of the bird so much she had you meet all of her friends… who also just so happened to be shop owners… who also all loved your drawing of her bird.

You carried produce and snacks from a total of 15 different planets, outer rim, and core worlds alike. You just unlocked a world of recipes.

You are torn from your thoughts with a bang. A man stands down the trail aways down; he had sent his foot into the side of his hovercart. Well, it currently wasn't a hovercart. The vehicle was broken down and smoking.

The man, who still has not seen you yet, drops his head between his shoulders in frustration.

"I don't know what we are going to do, kid. Got any suggestions?"

You heard a defeated noise come from a small bundle of blankets sitting in the cart.

The man laughs, "I don't think kicking it again will do it any good."

You step on an unfortunately placed stick, and his head whips up over to you before relaxing.

"Bright suns," he greets, but there is still a layer of frustration behind his voice.

"Bright suns," you repeat, "in need of a mechanic?"

That's when you realize: he's attractive… and missing three fingers.

His hair sits in a dark brown mop atop his head but becomes black where the sweat has glued it around his temple. He has a sharp jaw, not as broad as Mando but probably a few inches taller (if that was even possible).

He was covered in dirt and grease, but you could tell that was the norm. His hands had noticeable nicks and cuts, and, oh, he was missing his ring, middle, and index fingers on his right hand.

"Ideally, yes," he muses before trailing off.

But he didn't need to say the rest because you already have a thousand times before: credits.

There is another sad noise from the bundle of blankets. It's a child with a mop of hair just like the man's.

The man looks down at the kid and grimaces. Your heart aches.

"Can I take a look? I've worked a few mechanic jobs in the past. We might get lucky."

"I-I don't have many credits to offer you."

"I can tell," you gesture to the dent in the side of the cart that was made by his foot.

He blushes and avoids your gaze.

It's endearing.

—-

After inspecting the damage and realizing you don't have the tools you need to fix it, you follow him back to his farm - your groceries hidden in the shade of a nearby tree.

You learn how he lost his fingers; it was relatively recently in a farm equipment accident. He said he was lucky to just get his pinky away from the blades quick enough.

It makes you laugh.

The farm had a charm to it. Fields were rested upon sloping hills and interrupted by the occasional rock tower. Droids carrying baskets of wheat hummed in the distance. There was the creek of the old wood of the farmhouse. It also had a domed roof and a cozy interior with an unexpected amount of paintings lining the walls.

"My husband was an artist," he gestures loosely across the room, keeping his head down as he pours you a glass and hands it to you, "here."

You noticed the past tense. And if the art is still on the wall…

He leaves the room for a moment, ducking under the lowered door frame with beads. The child looks at you with a lopsided smile.

You swirl the drink in your hands, the ice clinking against the side of the glass, which prompts the kid to clap his hands in amusement.

The man returns with a toolbox and some gloves; he smiles when he sees that the kid is happy.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

—-

"It will take me a couple of days, but I can do it," you shout from under the cart, "just don't be speeding in this thing."

"Wasn't planning on it," he gruffs.

You shimmy out from under the vehicle, the notorious stains along your cheek and hands. Unfortunately, the 'shimmy' disrupted the shirt you were wearing, and the extremely intentional placement of your hair—Mando's bite mark was still very obvious on your neck.

You felt the moment his eyes found the mark, as they fixed on your neck. You, rather too quickly, fling your sweaty hair to cover the spot with a snort.

You suppose it could have been worse. He could have seen the band on your arm too.

Knowing he was caught, his hazel eyes snapped back to yours, his blush returning.

Neither of you mentions it out loud. You just grab a quick drink and shimmy back under the cart.

___

You were right. It took you precisely two days to fix the cart. But eventually, with a cough and sputter, the rust bucket was able to continue its journey.

After the cart is 'fixed,' he invites you to tinker around the farm. Each day Mando is gone, you come back and fix whatever project needs it the most. It's nice; you get to be out of the ship and enjoy the clean, non-polluted or filtered, air.

You never learn the man's name, and he never asks for yours. Such information is rarely given out freely in the outer rim. Stories, however, are free game.

He learns about you and the jars you are going to bring back home.

"I know a spot!"

He brings you to a creek on the edge of his farm. The bank has mosses, flowers, critters, and rocks smoothed from years of being under the gentle current.

"It's perfect, thank you."

You work together to craft the terrarium. You place in stones and dirt to act as a filter, and then you begin on the hardscape. The kid wobbles up to you, dripping from playing in the creek, and hands you the perfect stone. You place it up right next to a mini tree you had crafted, the rock structure an excellent resemblance.

He gives you a string and tag, and you label the jar.

Batuu

You learn about him and his son. His husband passed a few years back. He keeps his art on the walls as a reminder of the man he once knew. But the art supplies stay stored away—untouched.

"Really, I can't," you gesture to the small coloring pencil set he hands you one day after lunch, "this must have meant a lot to him. I can't just take it."

"Nonsense! You think he would want it wasting away covered in dust?" He maneuvers the set in his hands, the pencils nearly falling out because of his hindered grip.

You wanted to tell him that there were plenty of other art forms that did not require a stable hand, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn't interested.

"Thank you."

With the set, you draw a portrait of the kid with the colors he chose. You made the drawing as realistic as possible, besides the fact he only let you use red, blue, and green.

He loves the offering so much he shrieks and busts out with giggles.

It makes you homesick.

You know the substitute teacher back in Canto Bight your students are left with in your absence… and he is very capable… it's just that you miss coming up with the art projects for the little ones to do and seeing what they end up with. More often than not, their little creations do not resemble the original—and that's your favorite part of the job.

——

On the 8th day, Mando has been gone, your stomach starts to get queasy.

It is a concoction of financial anxiety, fear of his safety, and the one that has your gut-churning the most painfully: homesickness.

You are walking to the farm to tinker some more, except there is nothing but the bubbling creek and distant birds chirping to slow your racing mind.

The credits are good. You tell yourself over and over. It sounded like there was extra this time around… well enough for Mazey to let Tim get the cereal with the toy.

The thought makes you smile: this is worth it. Stability and security are worth it. You just have to hold out for about five more months. The credits are good. You are doing good. Mazey will get her scholarship. It will be okay.

It will be okay. Except it wasn't. Those were the words mom told you when she got her diagnosis.

If she passes—you should be there.

Yet here you were, multiple hyperspace jumps away with a bounty hunter.

No, don't think like that. She is strong. Stronger than yourself, stronger than he ever was.

She will be on her feet soon. It will be okay. She will be another source of income, working her odd jobs, like she always used to enjoy. It will be okay.

Your homesickness fades to a warm simmer near your heart. You wonder what shows Tim is watching or if he has made any more friends at school.

You snort a laugh as you keep walking, thinking about all the boys Mazey has turned down because she was "too busy" or "I have to study." She didn't like any of the options in Canto Bight.

Not recently, but at least once a month, the stars would align, and she would spend her free time with you. You would drive around the beach or the upper city laughing for hours—passing plenty of boys as you went.

She would never partake—but you would.

Most experiences were sticky and regrettable… but the Mandalorian… was an anomaly. It probably was the armor or the vocabulator—he made you kriffing feral.

You continue on the upward sloping path for a little longer. So as a sharp ray of light hits your eyes, you are still thinking of Mando. You track the insulting light to its source, and your heart curdles.

Did you summon him with your thoughts?!

You have to look a fair way down, not realizing how high the trail went when you were not paying attention, but Mando is standing there staring up at you.

"Got the bounty," he greets.

"It took a while," you tease, sensing an opportunity, "I've missed you."

You rock back and forth on your heels, and hands folded sweetly at your front.

"My fingers just don't compare."

Did you just go days without seeing each other and that's the first thing you say? Yes. You suppose you are just in one of those moods. And credits have been rolling around your mind since your holo call with Mazey.

You hear the growl even though you are about triple his height above him. Apparently he is in one of those moods too.

"Let's get you back to the ship then." He cocks his helmet in that direction, urging you to come down, masking his need for yours.

You won't let that fly.

"After making me wait this long? I think you should work for it."

And then you do somthing stupid.

Fueled by an inordinate amount of lust and desire for credits that would make a Canto Bight gambler proud—you lift up your top, bra, and all for just a millisecond— and book it in the opposite direction.

You've never heard Mando raise his voice… but you think he does now.

You won't ever know, of course because your lungs are exploding in your chest as your legs carry you as fast as you can run. It's been ages since you've run like this. You can't even explain why you are running—you just do; it just feels like you should.

Mando won't get to you right away. The hill was too steep to climb; he would have to go around. Since your half-baked idea to get more credits involves running: you need as good of a headstart as you can get.

A Mandalorian is paying you for sex, and you just told him he has to work for it, flashed him, then ran away. You're dead.

Holy bantha dung, you are running from a Mandalorian whose stride dwarfs you by a laughable amount.

You nearly blow straight over into the creek, stumbling to catch yourself, then you continue following the river upstream—pulse in your ears.

Your foot snags on a stick, and you stagger, but you don't fall completely. There was this strange feeling, like he is everywhere, on your tail, watching you struggle.

Maker, you feel like prey right now.

You shriek as you round a bend and slam straight into his chest plate like those cheesy horror holos.

Well, that didn't last long.

It's his profession, what were you expecting? A fair fight?

To your surprise, he stumbles back too, not expecting the blow from you either, and you continue past him, air rushing through the modulator. He grabs the clothes along your bicep, but you already have too much momentum, and the grip is lost instantly. Triumph surges through your veins, and you run faster.

Holy bantha dung, you just escaped the clutches of an infamous bounty hunter.

You're wet.

With painfully few options and the river at your side, you scramble up the branches of the nearest tree, the bark scrapping your palms as you scoot upwards. Animal instincts for flight kicking in. Climb Climb Climb. Escape.

Another scream parts your lips as his hand grabs your boot.

Escape.

With light kicks that assist in your ascent up the tree, you sacrifice the boot for the greater good.

You are nimble and flexible. He is strong and sturdy.

Mando can't climb trees.

With a growl, he throws the footwear back at you. It ironically hits your now cold sock-covered foot.

Your panicked scramble successfully led you just out of his grasp. But he stood at the base of the tree, like a wolf; he was willing to wait till his prey became desperate enough for food or water and come down into his clutches. He was going to starve you out. You gush, then sigh, another pair of panties ruined.

"Joey," his voice is calm, the calmest you have ever heard, "come down now."

He paces at the base of the tree.

"Eight whole days Mando," you whine, biting your bottom lip for extra impact.

"The bounty—"he stops his excuses immediately as you sit down on the sturdy branch - letting your legs dangle off the sides with your feet just out of his reach if he jumps.

He had a jetpack. You both know that would be cheating.

You spread your legs obscenely wide, so he could see from below, then drop your hand to relieve your growing needs from the outside of your clothing.

To your utter delight, he growls again. Maker, with the modulator, even his voice fits the part.

Only a few spirals in, your leg hits something closer to the base of the tree. You think it is a vine, but Batuu doesn't really have that kind of vegetation.

You squeal: it's that rope those kids were swinging on earlier!

"Joey! Don't even think abou—"

Too late.

You had a death grip around the rope and jumped. The slack looped around the tree ends abruptly mid-decent and sends you swinging over the creek below.

You look down at the swirling water. It was probably cold… you wanted sex, not a bath.

The rope leads you well onto the other side of the creek, but before you have the reaction to jump off—it begins to swing back towards Mando's waiting arms.

In horror, you let go as is without looking down to double-check. One leg hits land. The other hits water. You yelp as the cold licks all the way up to your knee. But you are already scrambling to shore.

You risk a glance back, and the Mandalorian is already running from view - trying to find a way to cross that did not involve getting soaked.

About five excruciating minutes pass. After the initial run away from the creek, you slowed to hear your surroundings. There was just the distant creek babbling and birds chirping - no Mando.

With slight confidence you were not being directly followed, you stepped out into a clearing, wanting a break from the sticks and rocks constantly assaulting your (now ripped) sock. The marketplace is visible down the sloping hill, but it was aways away: about the size of your thumb held out in front of you.

You take another tentative step forward, then another. The ground was softer here; there were no trees to disrupt the soil, which was good for your foot and bad for cover. There were also fewer rocks, with only one large stone pillar placed off center in the clearing. It was also noticeably muddier.

Birds from a tree behind you let out an alarming chirp, and the group flew away. You stop, searching your surroundings once again—still nothing.

But you didn't need to see proof. The winds had changed; you felt the flutter in your stomach—you were being watched.

You stumble back in alarm. Your chaser took notice and barreled from the shadows, but there were no trees close enough this time. The chase was as good as over. But Maker, you could still try.

Your heart thundered like a drum against your ribs: feet flying faster than they may have ever before, adrenaline roaring. But it wasn't good enough. Mando caught you in seconds, gaining too much ground too quickly— your attempt was laughable. Then he is barreling into you, hooking an arm around your stomach and yanking you backward—knocking you both to the ground. He rolled under you, letting his armored back take the worst of your fall with a grunt, skidding you both to a stop.

You still lay there for a moment, useless with all the air vanished from your lungs. You try to struggle off of him, but the positioning makes it almost impossible with the strength of his arms fastened around your stomach (also not helping your air situation). So you stay pinned tight as you wrestle and writhe to lift against him in the grass.

"Trying to run away like a little bounty?" he snarls in your ear, "you want me to catch you, use you, and throw you in carbonite?"

"Just the second one," you manage to grit out, finally taking in a full ragged breath.

"Kriff," he spits.

He puts more pressure on his grip around you, trying to flip you both so that he has more leverage.

You release a strangled sound towards the clouds and push back against him. In your struggle, you feel a hardness against your ass that was most definitely not his armor. You grind back against it. He sucks in a burst of air and momentarily loosens his hold. Then, with a strangled cry, you are able to squirm from him and start crawling away, pulling at the grass to drag you forwards.

Before you could make your escape, he heaves over and wraps a hand around your ankle, pulling down the fabric of your pants. Your attempt to claw free shimmies your pants over the swell of your ass. You flounder, fine with losing your pants and your boot if he is the one paying for it. The fabric bunching at your thighs restricts your movement, and you can't claw forwards because of the grip on your ankle keeping your leg on the ground.

With pure brute strength, he pulls you back under him by your leg, sending you sliding backward in the mud. He clambers on top of you, limiting your odds of breaking free. You lean into a roll and actually manage to buckle his arm that was supporting his weight.

Mando falls perfectly right between your legs.

Finally, a different position at last!

Now is your chance to show him some skill. That you're more than something to merely drill into for the quickest high. The visor is inches from your nose, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your fight subdued for the moment. You strain to see beyond the tinted glass to no avail, and the proximity makes heat lick up the sides of your neck despite the cool dirt.

"Take me," you whisper sweetly in his ear.

Just as you start to wrap your legs around his waist, Mando sits half-up, gloves clamped to your hips and flips you around under him. Your knees barely have enough time to buckle as his hand secures itself on the back of your neck, putting light force until your face is pinned to the dirt—ass in the air.

Come on! Didn't this man want variety?!

It would be almost comical apart from the growing soreness in your neck each morning.

He yanks down your panties to join the rest of the bunched clothes at your knees. You feel a long, warm trail of slick leading to your ruined undergarment.

Maybe, you think for a moment, if you can get away from him one last time, you'll be able to change positions. Despite the pressure on your neck, you squirm your bare ass forwards, hands clawing uselessly at the grass.

Mando follows forwards with your movements easily, and you hear a zipper. With one last failed lunge forwards, you feel the head of him notch at your entrance and plunges six inches—with room to spare— deep inside of you, guided only by your built-up arousal.

"Joey," he asks surprisingly softly, "this -kirff- this still okay? I—"

You nod against his hand. You think he nods too behind you.

With the confirmation, he continues. His hips drag backward, cock following, before slamming fully back into you. The hand on your neck unintentionally becomes heavier, burying half your face in the dirt. You know your knees were not in any better shape. From what you could see, you both had absolutely desecrated the surrounding grass. Honestly, you never realized you could relate to trampled grass before. You were so exhausted from running and then wrestling that you didn't have the energy during sex. You gladly took what he was giving you, at his speed, gasping or whining softly with each hard measured thrust as he filled you again and again.

In your haze, you remembered comparing him to the predacious hunter. Which, you were now experiencing the full effect of - mating like animals in the dirt. Though you didn't think this would end up with you in carbonite, you pocketed the realization he, too, is enjoying you being his bounty.

The realization makes you, somehow, even wetter. He notices too, grumbling a quick something like, "feels s'good Joey," before picking up the rhythm and returning to your usual (almost) silence.

He locks both hands to your hips, hauling you towards him with more strength than before. You whimper and sprawl your hands forward. He was pinning you. Pummeling into you. It was heaven and hell. It didn't matter how much grass your useless arms uprooted from the dirt— you were being claimed so thoroughly.

You hit your high, back arching against him as he continues the pace through your soft noises.

He follows soon after, collapsing on top of you, gasping for breath in your ear as his helmet rested on your shoulder.

Mando double taps the band on your arm, and the light turns green.

"Thank you." But the murmur is half lost in the dirt.

He pulls you up, and your head swims slightly, eyes adjusting to the scene of the partially crushed field around you and the incoming light you had missed while being pressed into the dirt by a Mandalorian. You stretch and crack your back and neck. Maker, you are completely covered in dirt. Both of your knees are caked with mud, but you bare most of the dirt: hands and arms, shins, breasts, and half your face. Even your hair was probably completely disheveled. You look like someone who just got their brains pounded out… and it was amazing.

The Mandalorian stood to full length behind you, each time taller than you remembered. Yeah, you really did not have much of a chance trying to wrestle him. He held out a gloved hand, and you took it, standing with unsteady legs. Your panties were soaked and cold putting back on; you felt dirty, disgusting, and numb from bliss.

"Let's head back." His voice was trimmed, professional. Just like he had been before he left. Cold.

That's when you remember.

"I need to let this farmer know I won't be able to help him anymore, I shouldn't be gone for more than a few extra minutes if that's okay."

You didn't realize Mando would take those words completely differently.

"You should see his kid," you continue too out of it to be aware of his body language, "he is this tall." You lower your hand to below your waist as a measurement. "The cutest little thing. I was helping him chase a frog."

This time you do notice Mando stiffens. Undoubtedly, even if you could not read his visor. But you couldn't place what you had done.

He snaps the harshest he has spoken to you, interrupting, "If you aren't back in time, I'm leaving you behind."

You flinch.

He turns on his heel and leaves in the direction you think his ship is.

—-

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes.

You can't lose this job. You can't lose this job. You can't mess up. If Mazey doesn't get her scholarship, you will be right back where you started. The lights will go out again. You can’t lose this job. What did you do wrong? You can't afford to mess up.

It plays like an anthem in your head, ringing over and over again.

You're stiff, sore, and covered in mud by the time you stumble onto the farm. They spot you immediately. He was working on some crops while the kid was sitting, playing, or keeping watch for you next to him. The kid excitedly claps his hands when he spots you and pokes his father. He turns around, and waves but his smile falters as you approach.

"Hey," he murmurs, "are you okay?"

"Yes," you lie, "I uh. Fell."

On half your face? Was left unspoken.

He doesn't seem to fully believe you, but you continue anyway. You explained your time on Batuu was coming to an end. And that it was nice getting to know him and his son. You will miss them.

He hands you a small set of watercolors and a single frayed brush he had found as a thank you. You enjoyed helping; it was fun. Inspiration wasn't striking just yet, you still felt… worried. But you thanked him for his kindness, and maybe one day your paths will cross again.

"May the spires keep you." You exchange the Batuu farewell.

——

The ship was still there by the time you returned.

You stumble up the ramp and into the hold, sad and confused.

It closes behind you as soon as you're in. The ship takes off and leaves Batuu without a single word from Mando.

Taglist

Next Chapter

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

This week is not starting out the best, but hopefully I can turn it around 😵‍💫

Was up til midnight working on school assignments because I spent most of it with friends. That was very much needed, but I hate how it’s affected my Monday. I didn’t fall asleep right away after because I was wired and stressed. Slept through all my alarms and woke up at 8:57 🤦🏻‍♀️ clocked in and here we go again with the immediate sleep to work routine.

I’m trying hard to wake up early, at least an hour before clock in, so I have time to transition to work. Like, what I traditionally would get in the car ride to work. But I can’t get myself up early enough anymore because I seem to be up so late for school work :/

—-

We got more info on our Roleplay assignments for school. She’s placed us in groups of FIVE. I’m not the only one who’s complained so far about the complications of scheduling around 4 other peoples schedules. Some “replied all” and are definitely in worse boats than me. Parents, on call workers, etc. different time zones. The prof really has no solutions for it.

Also she scheduled a specific time for our groups for one of the weeks. There was no asking if it worked or planning around our schedules. Just “this is the time, plan accordingly” that was literally the email.

My group is next month on a Thursday at 8pm. Not the worst time in the world, but certainly inconvenient. I haven’t checked my planner yet to see if there’s anything else going on, but I don’t think there is. Just grateful for that.

Other than that, my group needs to find a time WEEKLY to meet up virtually to do these dumb roleplays. And I will NOT be meeting on my wedding or honeymoon. I sent them an email last night to be like “let’s schedule our days now because I’m sure we all are busy”

Two of the members are like me and post the discussion assignments on the first day of the workshop. Two are peers who wait til the last day. And one of those two was in my last class who waited all week to post her slideshow 7 days late and made us all have to wait to complete the peer reviews until the close of the workshop.

—-

Today is an office day. I need to call referrals to start scheduling for November. I will have two weeks to squeeze in 10 Intakes around all the meetings. How? I don’t know. I can’t wait for it to be December for so many reasons.

[theji]

Things Yizhan Made Me Do

It's BXG Day today! 🐢💛

To commemorate the occasion, I thought of making a list of 13 out-of-character things that I've done since falling into the fandom. (OK I'm a bit late I meant to do this sooner, the day is ending soon in a couple of hours).

1. Start a blog

And a public one, no less. I had a blog when I was in my teens but that was private, like a personal diary. My day job already involves writing so off-work I would usually like to indulge in mindless activities. Now, here I am, maintaining a Yizhan blog. I have not even used Tumblr prior to this but I'm enjoying it now, rambling about our fav boys. Writing is not a chore if it's about them.

2. Join a fandom

I joined a boy band fan club once upon a time, some 15 years ago, but I was never as invested in it as I am now with Yizhan. Back then it was just buying some merch, attending their concert/autograph sessions, listening to their songs. Apart from work, dog mum duties, personal relationships, other hobbies like kombucha brewing, most of my free time is now spent on the fandom. My Netflix account is crying. There is just so much to do and catch up on (I'm not complaining). I also enjoy interacting with and learning from other bloggers here. Antis are no fun and some industry news/developments/hate messages are upsetting but ultimately, you curate your own fandom experience. And I choose positivity and rationality.

3. Indulge in RPS

I don't ever 'ship'. What is 'ship'? 😆 I was always a dutiful audience, just enjoying whatever drama series and moving on after that. I started with CQL like most people and I didn't even notice/like GGDD until much later. Didn't even set out to 'ship' anyone but now I'm a self-professed turtle. SZD is SZD, and anyone can see something special between them if you keep an open mind. I wrote about my SZD reasons here previously. That said, GG & DD are individuals, each with their own successful careers. They come first, the ship comes second. That I'm very clear of.

4. Use Chinese apps

Gosh, my phone and tablet are now full of Chinese apps. I used to have only WeChat cos I needed it for work but now I have Weibo, Oasis, Douyin, WeTV, MangoTV, Youku, etc. Some of them are not even available in the app store so I had to find alternative sources to download them. haha..I even have paid membership for some of these apps. And now, browsing Weibo daily becomes a routine. If you wish, you can just get stuck browsing Weibo for a long long time. It's entertaining.

5. Read fan fic

I only started about 6 months ago but now I'm hooked and fics are largely the only thing I read these days, apart from news. But I only read Yizhan or WangXian fics (p.s. calling for fic recs of other pairings!) I know some might have different feelings about fan fics but to me, I really just see them as fiction, with characters (and sometimes traits) bearing similarities to GGDD. Similarly, I separate the platform from the incident so I have no problems going to A03 despite GG's incident. I just enjoy seeing the characters named XZ/WYB having happy endings in many different timelines and universes. While most of the fics I read are explicit (by design), I don't use them as tools to play out certain fantasies or to think of GGDD in a sexual manner. In fact, I really hate fics that have little substance and just go into the explicit parts without plot development. I like those with interesting premises too, like one I read recently where XZ is a serial killer and WYB is a police officer investigating the case but also in love with him. I do have plans to share my list of fav fan fics some time down the road so keep an eye out for it!

6. Willingly read Chinese

Yes, Chinese may be my mother tongue but I don't use it much in daily living unless I have to. I also find it tedious to read Chinese cos the characters are just so squashed together. If I have a choice, I will always pick English. But now, I read so much Chinese from my daily weibo browsing. I even read fan fics in Chinese! Who am I? On the plus side, I think my Chinese comprehension and translation skills improved. I also picked up some internet lingo used by Chinese netizens, which are pretty interesting like doi, 🐮🍺, 🖍. My all-time fav is yyds.

7. Act like a cougar

In real life, I have always maintained that younger men are childish. At least those I have encountered. But look at me now, fangirling over two younger men (I am closer in age to GG, but still..). I even jokingly call them my 'China Boyfriends'. I look at them very respectfully most of the time.

8. Buy merch

Seriously, once you start, you can't stop. At least that was what happened to me, although I'm still quite selective when it comes to supporting their endorsements. I usually go for consumables like food, cosmetics vs collectibles cos I'm more practical. Also, GG says to support their merch within reasonable means so that's what I'm doing. Just buying things that I'm interested to try and not because it has their faces or names slapped on it. In a way, this suits me cos I like trying new brands and stuff anyway.

9. Keeping a Yizhan archive

Photos, weblinks, videos, songs, fan fics list..my phone is full of these things now. I think my Yizhan photo gallery is only second to the folder with my dogs' pictures. But how can you resist when we are blessed with new pics of them almost every week?

10. Camp for livestreams

I'm lucky I live in the same time zone as the boys so I don't have to wake up in the wee hours of the morning just to watch something. But that's the thing, being in the same time zone sometimes make me feel like I HAVE to watch that thing live because, why not? Why wait? Not shy to admit that I once watched a live programme in the middle of work but I made sure I finished what needed to be done. I think so long as we don't let these livestream schedules run our lives, there's no harm in camping for them.

11. Watch c entertainment

I am one of those who used to pass over Chinese productions, simply because it's a Chinese production. Not in a scoffing manner but I'm just genuinely not interested in them nor the celebs. I was more of a US/UK production kind of person, occasionally Korean/Japanese. Now, I'm learning to enjoy them although I just watch those with GGDD in them. No energy to follow other Chinese celebs anyway. The other programme I'm contemplating watching even if it doesn't have them in it is Who's the Murderer (GG was only in one of the cases) cos I like the premise. On the flip side, now my sis and partner keep making fun of me cos to them, all I do now is "watch China shows". That is so not true. Or is it?

12. Write fan mail

I wrote a letter to GG once. A long-ass letter. I hope he read it. That's all I'm gonna say. 🙈 hahahahaha

13. Desire to visit China

China was never on my list of to-visit places. Just wasn't interested. I have been to Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou a few times in the past for work but even then, I never felt the urge to revisit for leisure. Now, I wanna visit GG and DD's home town, visit Chongqing to see the graffiti wall with Bobii Zanbii on it, eat mala hotpot and try out their sauce recipe, attend BXG events, dine at the CQL restaurant... Watching TTXS also made me realise that there are many beautiful places in China with natural landscapes and all that. I used to be clouded by my disdain for the regime and some behaviour of its citizens but now, I recognise that the country is separate from the regime or a smaller group of poorly behaved citizens. China is a beautiful country and I would love to visit some day. I will fly over immediately on my own if someone gives me tix to ADLAD!!

Well, I hope some of these things resonate with you. Feel free to share the OOC things that Yizhan made you do.

Once again, Happy BXG Day! 🐢💛🐆🐇🐷🌶🦁🍑🐶🍍🛹🎋

[anna-justice]

Now or Never - 4

Summary: It’s been 10 years since they were juniors and lot’s has changed, but other things have stayed exactly the same. (Sequel to Lost or Found)

... 4 - Replay ...

Hailey pushed her door shut behind her, throwing her bags on her kitchen counter. She put away all the food she bought, grabbing a pen and a notebook and taking a seat at her bar. Hailey was a planner, she always had been, but it had gotten worse as she had gotten older. So, when she felt like things were out of her control, she sat down and made a list of everything she could. Today, it was meal planning. 

She filled the whole page, listing each meal and all the ingredients that go with it, the cook time and how likely it was to end up as leftovers. Almost all of it were things that Hailey knew Jay loved, things that he hadn’t had in a long time. 

She was grasping, she knew she was, but she was living in an eternal limbo. She was exhausted, she hadn’t slept in days, but she couldn’t dare slow down. She couldn’t dare let everything catch up to her. Hailey was running from years worth of demons coming back for her, and if she took a chance to breathe, she’d have to face them. 

As she looked down at her finished list, she felt tears prickle her eyes. She dropped her head in her hands and pushed the pad and paper aside. She fought the urge to laugh, her boyfriend - the only man that she had ever loved and it seemed like she was ever going to love - was coming home, and she was making a meal plan. 

What else was she supposed to do though? If the last four years had seemed foreign, then she was living on a different planet now. She had no idea what the next few days, weeks, months, had in store for her and she was terrified. 

Her phone caught her eye on the counter, and she felt a small grin grace her face. She picked it up and dialed a familiar number. The line only rang once before they answered, “Hello?” 

“Hey,” Hailey said, sighing out. There was something about her Aunt’s voice that had always calmed her. 

“Hi sweetie, how are you?” 

Hailey took a deep breath, with everything going on, she hadn’t had a chance to tell anyone about Jay’s highly anticipated homecoming. “Really great actually.” She said, finally. A smile gracing her face once again. Jay was coming home, no matter how many times she told herself, it still didn’t feel real. 

It didn’t matter what they ate for dinner or what her apartment looked like, he was coming home to her, finally.

“Good, I’ve been thinking about you.” Her Aunt said.

“I have something to tell you.” Hailey drew out, barely able to contain her joyful laughter. 

“Okay?” 

Hailey squealed - an action reserved for her Aunt - and the words tumbled out of her mouth, “Jay’s unit was recovered, he’s being shipped home on Tuesday, Will and I are going to pick him up-”

“What?” Her Aunt asked, cutting her niece off. 

Tears started to pool in Hailey’s eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in days, “He’s coming home.” 

“Oh my God,” Trudy said, her voice breaking. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes!” Hailey laughed, the sound followed by Trudy’s own. 

Trudy gasped, “Hailey, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you, both of you.” 

“Me too.” She was so happy, she didn’t think it was possible be this happy. There were things that rivaled it: the first time Jay told her he loved her at the dance when they were sixteen, the day he came home from his first deployment, the day they she graduated college, the day of Adam and Kim’s wedding. She had had so many happy moments, but none of them measured up to what she was feeling right now. “I just can’t wait to see him.” 

“Well I’d love to see him, and you too. So give me a call when you two are all settled in and we’ll make a plan.” Trudy and Randall have moved to Hilton Head Island a few years back after they both retired, Hailey saw them a few times a year. Including during the summer when all of them would drive down and stay with them for a week. 

The two woman talked for a while, catching up, making plans, circling back around to the idea of Jay coming home several times. A smile stayed on Hailey’s face the whole time, despite anything going on in her life, Trudy seemed to always know what to say. That never changed. 

Hailey barely had time to set her phone down before it started ringing again. This time it was Kim.  “Hello?” 

“Hailey.” 

Hailey stood from her stool. “Kim, what’s wrong?” 

“Hailey, I need you to come here like right now.” Hailey could hear her panic clearly, she was already grabbing her car keys and her purse. 

“Okay, I’m on my way.” She stalled at the door. “Kim, what is going on?” 

“Hailey...its Erin, she’s back.” 

…

“Why on earth didn’t you all tell me?” Hailey asked, standing in Kim and Adam’s kitchen. “Don’t you think I had a right to know this? Especially with everything going on right now.” She ran her fingers through her hair, leaning against the counter. 

After walking in and finding a crying Kim and a very stressed Adam, they showed Hailey the bathroom, Then spent the next 10 minutes explaining everything they had been keeping from her. 

Kim took a step forward, “We found out right before Will called us, Jay seemed ore important.” 

“Jay is more important! But this puts his life in danger, it puts all of our lives in danger.” Hailey said. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry. We’re sorry.” Adam said, glancing between Hailey and his wife. “But more importantly, what are we going to do?” 

Hailey nodded, beginning to pace. “Well, we learned a long time ago that calling the police was a bad idea, but,” she gestured to herself, “I think we are covered in that department. We could call Beth Sanders back, tell her what happened.” 

“Hailey it says not to talk…” Adam says. 

“We aren’t teenagers anymore Adam!” Hailey snaps, she pauses, takes a moment to catch her breath. She wasn’t a yeller or a fighter. “I-I’m sorry, I just. I don’t know, there isn’t a correct answer. Obviously she isn’t out of prison yet, we would know right?”

“Right.” Kim said, nodding.

Hailey pinched her nose, “Then someone must be working for her. Or she’s blackmailing someone like before, like what she did to Kelly.”

“Or she escaped.” Adam said, causing both Hailey and Kim to gape at him. “Think about it, it might not be in the media yet, hell maybe no one even knows.” 

Kim rushed to the front door, making sure it was locked. It didn’t make that much of a different, but it gave her some peace of mind. Her hands were shaking, “Why would she appeal her case just to escape?”

“Maybe she just couldn’t take it anymore? She couldn’t wait for a parole hearing, so she escaped and decided missed her little playthings.” Adam said with disgust. 

Hailey stared at the counter, tracing the granite veins, running every possible idea through her head. “Or she found out about Jay.” She said, her head snapping up. “Think about it. She’s been there for 10 years. She’s earned good behavior or she’s figured out how to sneak things. She could have seen a newspaper or seen the news, decided that a parole hearing would take too long and broke out. She’s always been crazy about him, it’s what started it all in the first place.”

Adam stood there in shock, Kim scoffed, “Hailey I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.” 

“So he’s leaving a war zone and coming home to a new one,” Hailey, dropping her head in her hands on the counter. “Perfect.” 

Kim rounded the counter, placing a hand on Hailey’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll get through it. We’ve done it before.” 

Hailey stands up, nodding, looking defeated. “I-how?” She asks, “We barely did the last time.”

“I honestly don’t know, but we will.” Kim looks to Adam for support. 

He just shrugs, “We have too.” 

“Yeah…” Hailey agrees, she squeezed the hand on her shoulder. “I gotta make some calls, can I use the guest room?” She asks. 

“Of course.” Kim says, giving her a quick, but necessary hug.

Hailey makes her way into the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She checks the entire room for bugs, checking behind photos and under pillows, really anywhere they could be. Then, she closes the blinds and dials a familiar number. They answer after just one ring. “Hello?”

“Garrett, hey, I need your help.”

... 

An hour later, Hailey was sitting in her living room while Garrett paced around the room, a pained expression on his face. “So, you’re telling me that in high school, one of your best friends faked her own kidnapping and death, killed a random girl, blackmailed your classmate into breaking into yourself and choking you, locked you in a garage with a running car, shot Adam and then tried to kill you in basement, all because you stole her boyfriend?” He paused, turning to face her. 

“You forgot stalking us and threatening us for 3 months but yeah, pretty much.” She said shrugging. “And actually she did all that because I “stole her friends,” I didn’t steal her boyfriend until after she locked me in a garage.”

Garrett huffed, sitting down next to her. “Details.” He leaned back against the couch, running his hands over his eyes. “Hailey, I’m your partner, why didn’t you tell me any of this before now?” 

“I don’t know,” Hailey said, running the past year through her mind. It wasn’t a light or funny story for when their bored on a stakeout, and wasn’t exactly something she spewed when she was drunk, it just never came up. It was one of those things that you shove down and hope it disappears. “They aren’t exactly fond memories.” 

Garrett picked up his beer off the coffee table, taking a long drink. “Fair enough.” He looked over at his partner, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail like usual, an old academy sweatshirt covering her. On the surface she looked like the old Hailey, but he could see the pieces of hair falling out and how swollen her eyes were. She wasn’t the normal Hailey. “Hailey, I-I’m sorry you had to go through that, especially that young. No one deserves that,” 

Hailey gave him a soft smile, nodding her head and dropping her gaze to her lap. She knew he meant well, but the look on his face was one of the main reasons that she never told anyone about her past. She was a big girl, she didn’t need anyones pity. “Thanks, that means a lot. But, I’ve come to terms with it all. I thought I had moved on, but, the bitch is back, and I need a plan.” She stood up, grabbing her laptop off the sofa table across the room. “Jay is coming home and Kim and Adam want a baby, and Kev and Vanessa want to get married, and dammit Erin is not going to ruin everything again.”

She sat back down on the couch next to him, and Garret smiled at her, he admired her more than anyone else in the world, even more now. “Then we’ll stop her.” He tried not to think about the way his chest tightened when she said Jay’s name, it wasn’t fair to either of them. She deserved to be happy, he just thought that eventually it would be him to make her just that, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to give up on that. 

“I have no idea how.” She logged in to her computer, completely unaware of the way her partner was looking at her. “First we need to find out if she’s actually still in prison.” Garrett scooted a little closer to her, so he could see the screen. 

Hailey looked frustrated as she typed aggressively, it wasn’t really getting them anywhere. “Hailey,” Garret said, grabbing her attention. “You are the strongest person I have ever met, if anyone can figure this out, it’s you.” He said, watching as her tough guy facade finally fell before him. “I’m lucky that I get to call you my partner.” 

She eyed him, his honestly and heartfelt-ness coming out of left-field. They usually never talked like this. But, she let it go. Chalking the comment up to the many lines they had already crossed during the evening, she was bound to feel a little strange. “Thanks, me too.” 

The rest of the evening was spent deep in thought, developing several different ways things could go wrong and how to fix them. Somehow they ended up sprawled out on her couch, Garrett sound  asleep and Hailey wide awake, eyes darting between him and the floor. She had finally let someone else in, and she had this horrid feeling that it would come back to bit her in the ass. It would come back for both of them. 

…

A/N: Holy crap, it has been SO LONG since I have updated this story. I’m so sorry you all, it’s been an absolutely crazy few months and I am happy to say that I have finally found the inspiration to write again. I’ve decided that I will update this story every Wednesday, so hopefully the accountability will keep me on track. Thank you so so much for reading. Have a great night <3

P.S. like always, comment to be added to the taglist!

@lissethsrojas @puckluck28 @fuckyeahkillianemma @ruzek-halstead @thebigapocalypsewolf @karihighman @anotheronechicagobog @snowwhite013 @tracysupton @angelsjedi @anniesardors @carissalizz @joy-meathiel @alkadri-layal @number2chicagopdfan @stephanie708

[fandomwriterstuff]

My Spotify Playlist (Pt. 1)

Rick Flag x Reader

Rated T (so far)

~2.5k words

Part 2

Rick was just another boy you liked in high school. But your lives take very different paths. This is the story of how two people are brought together by a mutual love of curated Spotify playlists. Oh, and the story of how an innocent girl got thrown in metahuman prison.

… sometime during your sophomore year of high school…

You were watching a football game with your best friend, Sarah, a girl nearly loud and obnoxious enough to match your extreme level of quiet introversion. She’d convinced you to come, her boyfriend was playing and so was your crush. He was a senior and you were a sophomore so he’d never go for you, but you could always dream. You had your earbuds in, twirling the cord around your fingers as you listened to your favorite playlist to listen to over sports games (it was called ‘sports, go sports!’ and it was filled with mellow low-key vibes to counteract the chanting crowd and lack of personal space).

“Come on, Bunny! Rick’s about to score a touchdown!” Sarah screeched in your ear and you pulled out one earbud, tugged your school-colored beanie over your ears and searched the field for the most handsome boy you’d ever seen. Rick Flag. He made you want to swoon and flutter a fan in your face like some romance book heroine. The best you could do was smile softly at him and tuck your hair behind your ear shyly. You watched, enraptured, as he broke away from the other team and ran straight towards the end zone, unchallenged. A moment later the stands were shaking from the other students jumping up and down, and you shouted with them. You couldn’t help feeling the little spark of pride at the display of school spirit. You also couldn’t help the fluttering of your little rabbit heart when Rick turned to the stands with the brightest smile you’d ever seen. It was his senior Homecoming game, so he should be proud.

Your school wiped the floor with the other team, getting another couple touchdowns and field goals. As the stands were emptying, Sarah grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the side of the field where she started calling her boyfriend to come over. You liked him enough, he was a nice guy and didn’t mind how quiet you were. You tucked both of your earbuds back into your ears, listening at a low volume so you could still hear the conversation.

What you didn’t see as you brushed your hair behind your ear and tugged at your soccer hoodie (the only piece of school apparel you owned), was that Sarah’s boyfriend was coming over with Rick in tow.

“Hey babe!” He exclaimed when he reached Sarah, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Wasn’t Rick the man tonight?” He asked Sarah, but Rick had already turned to you.

“Hey, Bunny,” you looked up at him, your school nickname sounding like music exiting his lips.

“Hey, Rick,” you smiled up at him. For someone who was seventeen going on eighteen, he had really filled out. His shoulders were broad and his jaw was defined and you just wanted to wrap yourself up in him.

“Whatcha listening to?” He asked, pointing to one of your earbuds. You pulled it out and placed it into his waiting hand.

“It’s Sunday Morning by the Velvet Underground. Part of my sports playlist,” you spoke as he tucked the earbud into his ear, leaning down close to you so he wouldn’t pull your earbud out in the process. He listened for a moment before smiling that megawatt smile at you.

“This is really nice. Spotify?” He asked and you nodded before he handed the earbud back to you. “Can I follow you on it? I dunno how something that mellow fits into a sports playlist but I liked it,” you were trying not to panic or stumble or stutter, Rick’s eyes were on you and so were Sarah’s as you nodded and pulled your phone out to give him your username.

After he followed you, him and Sarah’s boyfriend bid their goodbyes, they had to meet with the team and the coach.

“Oh em gee,” Sarah squealed when the two of you were alone and on the way home. “Rick Flag is so totally into you!” She shouted into the car as you winced.

“I don’t think so. He’s just a nice guy,” you muttered, looking out into the dark night.

“Bullshit, Bunny. You should make a move on him before he graduates, maybe he’ll take you to prom,” she shrugged. “It could happen.”

It didn’t happen. In December that year you got into a car crash. You went to the hospital, had to be studied for abnormal brain waves, and came out with a genetic mutation that gave you superhuman agility and the ability to throw seismic energy out of your hands. Your parents pulled you out of school and moved you to New York to study with other kids like you.

Sarah’s parents were secretly anti-mutant protesters so she wasn’t allowed to contact you anymore. You were alone.

Except for sometimes, you could see what Rick was listening to on Spotify. He’d followed all of your playlists and would sometimes listen to them. It made you feel like you still had a little bit of home.

… some years later ...

When you were more in control of your new powers, you were allowed to get a Facebook to try and reconnect with your old school friends. You were nineteen when you found Rick Flag on Facebook. You weren’t terribly shocked to see he’d joined the Army. You sent him a friend request, but you weren’t sure if he even knew your real name. Everyone at your old school called you Bunny. Everyone here called you by your name. You almost missed the normalcy of high school nicknames.

But those last few years… They were hard on you. You had to learn a lot of hard lessons about mutant rights and the fear your parents held. Not fear for you. It was fear of you. They were afraid you’d hurt them.

It all made you so overwhelmed, you felt so helpless. You created a new Spotify playlist. This one was called ‘anxiety attack at 4 am’ because you thought it was funny. You ended up stalking Sarah on Facebook and deleted the app because it was giving you too much stress. You forgot all about Rick and Sarah. You didn’t want to think about what could have been.

You were twenty-one when you ran off. You hated the north. It was cold, the people were cold and always rushing, and it had never felt like home. You stole all the cash your parents had stashed in the house and took buses all the way down to Mississippi. That’s where you got caught. Your parents thought you were dangerous and when you ran off, they put out a missing dangerous mutant report. You scowled when you saw the cops come at you. You’d trained enough to know how to get away without hurting anyone but… You looked down at your feet, fighting back the tears as the moment took you back to all of those years ago. You were afraid. Your parents' car crash hadn’t killed any of you but the impact on your head had released some genetic code in your brain that had been blocking your mutation. When someone in the hospital tried to help you, you accidentally threw a shockwave at them and threw them through a door. You were so afraid when you got to the mutant school. You weren’t used to getting any attention, good or bad.

So when the cops came at you with guns, you panicked. You loosened your power-dampening wrist braces and threw a shockwave into the ground that shook the earth and jostled their cars. It was enough to scare them so you could run away.

You were twenty four, living off the grid in a swamp community. You hadn’t used your powers in years, but one of the kids in the community had come down with something and it was your turn to go out into town. You’d gone into town a million times, it should have been like every other trip. You’d get the boy to the doctor, pay them, and get back to the community.

But you were spotted by a cop, someone who clearly had a mental memory of all missing persons who’d been seen in Mississippi. You shoved the boy behind a car and held your hands out in front of you.

“Please,” you pleaded as he pointed his gun at you. “I don’t mean any trouble.”

“That’s what they all say,” he grunted and shot you, the pain of it embedding in your thigh was blinding. You fell to your knees with a cry and let out a shockwave that dug a crater around you. The cop flew back, but backup had come.

You struggled onto your feet and tried to drag yourself away, blood seeping out and staining your jeans.

You’d crawled to the edge of the crater, but you looked up to see another cop swing his baton at your head.

… several hours later …

“Hey! What are you doing?” You shouted as two men clamped an electric collar around your neck. You'd just woken up and were panicking.

“Don’t struggle. It’s just a power dampener so you won’t hurt us,” one of the cops spoke almost kindly to you.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” You wailed, panic rising up in your throat and tears welling in your eyes. “Please, there’s a boy who’s sick. I was only in town to take him to a doctor, please!” You screamed, but all the breath left your body when you were struck with a baton right on your leg where you’d been shot. You looked down though, they must have cleaned you up because your leg was bandaged. “Please,” you cried, but every time you opened your mouth another blow came at your ribs, your shoulders, your leg, your hands.

“Hey!” There was a shout from a distance away, but you were crumpled on the ground, metal collar around your neck like a dog. “What are you doing?”

“She was acting out,” one of the men called back, and you looked up, eyes blurry with tears as a man approached.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you cried again, hoping this was someone with some sort of conscience. “I don’t know where I am or why,” you were panting and the man crouched down to your level.

“You’re at Belle Reve Penitentiary. It’s for metahuman criminals,” his voice was low and calm, but you let out a wail at his words.

“I didn’t do anything! I was trying to get a boy to the doctor!” You screamed, anger rising up within you, surpassing the panic and anxiety. But that was shot down when one of the men kicked at your bruised ribs. You moaned pitifully, laying down on the ground and closing your eyes. Maybe it was best to accept your fate.

“I’ll look into your case. But for now, you’re coming with me,” you opened your eyes to see the man holding a hand out to you. He didn’t look convinced, but he did look… Familiar. You gingerly reached your bruised fingers out to him and he frowned at your black and blue appendages. “This isn’t how we treat prisoners,” he scowled at the other men and wrapped your arm around his shoulders, helping to support you as you limped towards the big building.

Well, you thought. Maybe if I cooperate he won’t hit me.

You looked down at your white t-shirt, but it was covered in blood. You frowned, but then the throbbing in your face made sense. They must have made your nose bleed. You brought your unoccupied hand up to your face, and came away bloody. You must be covered in it. It all seemed so surreal at the moment… You let out a giggle. It hurt, but you couldn’t help it. But it was followed by the waterworks.

“You… alright?” The familiar man asked strangely and you sniffled, wiping at your face and accidentally smudging the blood even more. You were probably unrecognizable anyway, so even if you did know him, he might not recognize you.

“I’ve never been arrested before. I never even got detention,” you whimpered and he frowned down at you as you made your way inside. But you stopped short. You looked up at him with wide eyes. “I left that boy in town. He needs a hospital,” your frantic eyes looked wild, set in your bloodied face, but you gave the man the boy’s first and last name and the name of the community you had been living in. “Please.”

“I’ll look into it,” he sighed before bringing you to a holding cell. “You’re going to wait here until you get processed. Don’t struggle, and don’t start any fights,” and with that, he left you.

You sat there alone for quite some time, bleeding through the bandage on your leg and out of your nose and mouth.

“What's your name?” A smartly dressed dark-skinned woman finally came over to you and you gave your first and last name to her. You were trying to make yourself look smaller, it wasn’t that hard to be honest. You were small, and you were used to going unnoticed whether it be in school or hiding from the authorities.

“Abilities?” Your eyes narrowed. The man had said this was a penitentiary for metahumans. But, you were trying to be cooperative. You wanted to get out of here.

“Superhuman agility,” you muttered before looking down at the dried blood on your hands. “And I can throw seismic waves with my hands.” The woman nodded and wrote that down, showing no emotion.

“We’ll get you cleaned up and put you in the general population until we figure your case out,” she signaled for two guards to come over. One opened the cell and the other grasped your arm and led you to a medical room where a tired-looking doctor set your nose and cleaned the blood from your face and hands. He also rebandaged your leg. But there was not much to be done about your stained clothes. Unfortunately, it was all your own blood, and you were starting to feel lightheaded. You were hoping you could sit down soon.

You were told you would get a tour the next day and were sent to a cell with two twin beds cemented into the wall. You shrugged. This must be what prison was like. Everything could be a weapon.

“Oooh! A roommate!” You whipped around, dizzying yourself in the process as you took in your new roommate. She was gorgeous, enough so that you immediately felt a flush coming up on your cheeks and arousal building in your body. It had been a while since you could feel anything for anyone. You were hiding and running and hiding and running and… Yeah you get it. “What’s your name, Sugar?”

“Y/N,” You smiled weakly. “But everyone calls me Bunny.”

“Bunny, that’s appropriate,” she cocked her head with a big grin. “Cute and tiny, just like you!” You blushed harder, but she passed by you and threw herself onto one of the beds.

“Doctor Harleen Quinzel at your service,” she turned her head and winked at you. “But everyone calls me Harley.”