#exam day checklist

[rohannsharma13]

What You Need to Know About PTE Exam Day: A Complete Guide

Before heading to the test center, make sure you have everything you need. A government-issued ID, your booking confirmation, and appropriate clothing are all essential. One thing many candidates overlook is how understanding the PTE format can enhance your performance. Knowing how each section works will allow you to pace yourself and stay focused throughout the exam. Preparation doesn’t stop at materials—it includes mental readiness too!

[milkoomi]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ stop procrastinating: school edition ᝰ.ᐟ

procrastination caused my own personal burn out with school and it caused so much anxiety about my academics as well. when we get into the habit of doing it now rather than later, we relieve so much stress— more than we actually realize too!

let’s begin !!

ᝰ.ᐟ think about all the stress

while there is a lot of stress when it comes to school, we have to consider how much stress we get when we procrastinate versus the stress we get from school in general. the stress we get just in general can seem like a lot, and it is a lot! but when we procrastinate, we just add onto the stress we already have and creating even bigger feelings about school that might turn into something that isn’t so easily manageable.

you might feel stress from…

the number of classes you’re taking

the difficulty level of certain classes

how much homework or studying you have to do

procrastination adds the stress of…

meeting due dates/deadlines

cramming an entire unit’s worth of material the night before an exam

a large pile of work you still have to do when all your due dates are on the same day

losing very much needed sleep to try and get everything done

the possibility of turning in work that might not be your best and earning a failing grade

the possibility of losing silly points due to simple mistakes because you didn’t have an ample amount of time to study

the risk of turning in late work and losing points

not being able to balance your personal life with your academic career, risking burn out

notice how procrastination stress can come in a variety of forms? adding on that kind of stress on top of stress you might already be feeling will only continue to weigh you down, and the goal is to relieve that stress, not make it worse.

you have to consider the fact that procrastinating can only worsen your stress. “but i work best under pressure!” no, babe. you think you work better under pressure because you’ve got all this adrenaline rushing through you to get everything done, and exerting that much energy will only burn you out!

ᝰ.ᐟ how to stop procrastinating

use a planner

i’ve talked about the use of planners in a previous post, but i’m bringing them up again because they seriously are that useful when it comes to stopping that procrastination habit!

you’ll be able to plan out your day or even your entire week and get a look ahead for what’s to come. you can review your daily/weekly plans and start by setting aside a designated time frame for school-related work.

let’s say it’s a tuesday and you have the day off from work but you have a doctor’s appointment at 12pm and then you have to run errands that might take about 1-2 hours, so you’ll be out of your house between 11:30am to 2-2:30pm. but let’s also add in that you have a dinner with a friend around 6pm. set aside time from 3pm to 5pm to do homework or to study! when you review your plans for the day, you have to find time where you might have some downtime and use it towards schoolwork! wherever you have some downtime throughout your day/week, use that time to get to work!

prioritize tasks

create a check list from the most important to the least important! you can do this before you sit down and get to work or when you’re planning out your day/week. check due dates for assignments and see which ones need to be completed first and which ones you still have time for. make note of exam/quiz days and if you have a quiz for one class next week but a big exam the week after, prioritize the quiz for next week.

also when you do create your little check lists, work in sections! review all of your classes and see which ones take priority and which ones can wait. of course, it’s important to prioritize all of your classes as they’re all equally important, but when you plan out your day/week and you compile a checklist for every single one of your classes and assignments you can really quickly overwhelm yourself!

eat the frog method

i’ve seen this method be talked about a lot! if you’re unfamiliar with it, it’s basically (in really simple terms) doing the most difficult task first and working from there, leaving your least difficult task last!

this method helps to alleviate so much stress off your shoulders! getting the hardest assignment/task out of the way will make doing the rest of your work a breeze! and, once you get that most difficult task done, you don’t have to stress about it anymore!

remove any and all distractions

i mentioned this in a previous post as well, but if you have an iphone or any other apple product, you can create different focus modes that you can customize for different things! i’ve personally created a “study session” focus mode that i customized to only show homescreen pages that won’t cause a distraction and i’ve also set it so that i don’t receive any notifications. if you are able to do that, do it!

if you don’t have an iphone or don’t have a “do not disturb” feature, then simply silence your phone and keep it away from you. if you’re at home studying, maybe place your phone on the opposite side of the room or even put it in a completely different room. if you’re out at the library or any other place where you might study, tuck your phone into your bag.

get noise cancelling headphones! or work in a relatively quiet area! outside noises, whether it be noise from your family or noise from other people in a café or even noises like construction work outside, can cause a lot of distractions. your work/study environment should allow you to fully focus on what tasks you’re completing and different sounds/noises can lead to you losing your focus.

remember to take breaks

when you set aside time to do school work or study, you might feel the need to get it all done in one sitting. doing so can cause burn out, so you need to remember to take breaks!

especially when studying, i’d implement the pomodoro method (25min of work - 5min break, 50min of work - 10min break). of course you can use this method while doing homework as well!

i cannot stress this enough: take breaks. please! don’t overwork yourself. your mind seriously needs to rest from time to time.

change your mindset

how you think of school and the assignments/work that comes with it plays a huge role in your productivity level. if you consistently have that mindset of “i’ll do it later” or “i’ll do it when i have more time” you’ll quickly see the days go by and then suddenly deadlines are a day away or your big exam is the next morning!

if you can do it now, then do it! i mentioned earlier to work on schoolwork whenever you have downtime, and i mean it! your time is precious and it should be spent getting work done and accomplishing goals!

i also say over and over again that taking breaks is essential, but with this and making sure you get things done right when you have the time to do it, there needs to be a balance. you have to balance your personal time and productivity time because procrastinating on your own well-being is just as stressful as procrastinating on your academics.

ᝰ.ᐟ final notes

i’ve fallen victim to procrastination, trust me when i say that! it’s a hard habit to break, especially when we don’t realize we have that habit! but it’s all about finding a balance between school and your personal life (and work if that applies to you!). when you give more of your energy towards one over the other, you lose potential good energy that could go into the other. you are your own priority, and i will always stand by that, but i know a lot of us value our education so we have to make sure that is also in our list of priorities. we all wish to succeed and starting off our success within our classes is the first step to achieving those bigger long-term goals!

with lots of love, juno 🌷

[s4nniebe4r]

dibs

pairing: rival! yunho x fem! reader

synopsis: somebody keeps stealing your favorite chair

wc: 4.2k 

tags: fluff, slice of life, light use of explicit language

etc: this is a major rework of a fic i wrote previously elsewhere, it’s been on my mind for a while… thinking about a potential part two, but i’ve got to work out the kinks and whatnot, as always not thoroughly proofread!

The library is quieter than usual when you step inside, it’s the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound—your footsteps against the aged tiled floor, soft rustling of pages as students flipped through their overpriced textbooks, and the humming of a printer in the distance. You adjust the strap of your bag and exhale, already sorting through the mental checklist of everything you need to get done for this session. 

It’s a lot. Too much, honestly. You’ve got a paper due, an exam to study for, and some general note-taking, a headache was already starting to form, and a general sense of dread was setting in. 

But it’s fine. It’s fine. Because at least you have your seat. 

The one by the window. The one where the light filters in just right, making the otherwise dull atmosphere of the library feel a little less draining. That seat made you understand just how a cat feels curling up under the sun taking a nap; so cozy, so at ease. And it was comfortable—more than the others, anyways—cushioned, in a way that doesn’t make your back regret ever meeting it. From where that chair was, you were perched over and away from the vast majority of the library, but you were easily able to people-watch as they came. It’s a small comfort in a long day, and you’re holding onto it. You always do. 

Or at least, you did. 

Because when you rounded the last bookshelf, ready to collapse into your little area of familiarity, you see him. 

Sitting in your chair. 

Some guy, completely absorbed in whatever’s on his laptop screen. He had himself in your chair. He wore a loose-fitted crew neck, and jeans, his hair tucked lazily under his beanie… his outfit portrayed how he looked in your chair; far too comfortable. His fingers were lazily tapping against his coffee cup, so carefree, like he has nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. Like he belongs there. Which, of course, was far from true. 

So you stop, standing there longer than necessary, waiting for some kind of divine intervention, or universal fixture to this. Maybe, just maybe he’ll look up, and sense your suffering in silence, and move along with his life. Maybe he’ll realize that this chair was not his to sit in. 

But, neither happens. Nothing happens. 

Instead, he stretches a little, shifting like he’s settling further into his seat, and you feel an actual physical reaction—something between the lines of heartbreak and bitterness, maybe a little irritation mixed along. Irritation with yourself, maybe? You don’t own the chair, obviously… you know this. But, it’s yours. 

It’s yours. 

For a second, you debate saying something. You could ask if he plans on staying for long. Maybe drop some sort of passive aggressive hint? There was always the seat across, but that felt too cruel, like salt rubbed into your already stinging wound. 

You were lost in thought, but then his eyes flick up—just for a second, barely long enough to register your presence—before he goes right back to whatever it was that he was doing. There’s a light sprinkle of pink that appears on his face after a second. And his lips purse into a straight line, before the tug upward ever so slightly. 

And that’s when you realize. 

He knows. 

There’s something about the way his lips are twitching, like he’s trying not to smile, and it’s enough to tell you that he’s fully aware of what he’s done. Like he’s waiting to see what you plan on doing about it. 

A small heat courses through you, enough to make you pull out the chair from beside you without much of a second thought. So, without any other choice, you sit. You sit in the only other available spot at the table—that godforsaken, awful wooden chair across from him. The one that’s stiff and unforgiving, it’s everything wrong with seating. And you’re sure he knows that too, because now he really does smile, just barely, as he takes a slow sip of his iced coffee. 

You don’t look at him, as much as you want to, you don’t. You just open your laptop with a little more force than necessary, and start typing. You have no idea what you’re writing, but your fingertips tapped away at your keyboard. 

And so, you sat. Staring at the screen as you mindlessly wrote as the minutes passed. You figure at some point you’d write something useful. And then—because the universe just wasn’t done with you—somebody spoke up. 

“That chair’s not so bad, is it?”

With your fingers halting their motions, just hovering over the keyboard now. You slowly lift your gaze, and there he is, watching you over the rim of his coffee cup as he takes another sip, his eyes full of amusement. 

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. “It’s awful actually,” you deadpan. “And you’re in my seat.”

He hums lightly, shaking his head as he sets his cup down. “I wasn’t aware we called dibs here. And I didn’t see your name on it.”

Oh, you hate him. Instantly. Viscerally. 

“Didn’t realize I needed to,” you reply. “Considering I sit here every time I come here.” 

“Ah.” He nods, like the information is new and groundbreaking. “Well, I'm sitting here now.” He said it so casually. 

Your jaw tightens, almost locking into place. “Yeah. I gathered that.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, head tilted slightly, a slow, insufferable smile forming. It was almost to the point where you could describe it as shit-eating. And just as he grins, he reaches for his laptop, shifting it slightly—just enough to make it painfully clear that he has no intention of moving. 

Fine. That’s just fine. You weren’t about to let some bratty stranger ruin your day. 

You refocus onto your screen, posture stiff no thanks to the chair you were forced upon, fingers aggressively typing out something—anything—to keep from glaring at him. But your mind is already racing, planning every possible way you could reclaim your rightful spot without actually asking. 

You could get here earlier tomorrow. Beat him to it.

It wouldn’t be that hard. So, you let the thought settle, a slow petty satisfaction creeping in. You continue writing whatever it is that you are, and think of tomorrow. 

You walk into the library, this time with a little bounce in your step, a satisfied little smirk tugging at your lips as you take a slow, victorious sip of your drink. It’s sweet, something fruity with just the right amount of tartness; a perfect mix, like the universe was apologizing for yesterday.

Today, you were winning, and you made sure of it. 

You left earlier than usual, cutting through campus like you were a woman on a mission, and you did sacrifice your usual few minutes of mindless rotting on socials just to be here. Before anyone else, but especially before him. If yesterday was an unfortunate twist of fate, today is divine justice. That chair is yours, and you’re going to sit in it. Reclaim it. 

And so, with the extra pep in your stride, you weave through the aisle, your fingers tightening around your cup, anticipation creeping up on you. The closer you get, the more your confidence builds, your mind already savoring the feeling of sinking back in your spot, watching the light filter through the window, so perfectly onto your back. The thought of stretching out into the space that’s so perfectly yours that you could, well you could nearly—

And then, the world stops. 

You see it. 

Rather, you see, him. Sitting in your chair. Again. 

You come to a dead stop, nearly choking on your own drink in disbelief. 

He’s there, again, stretched out in your chair. His laptop is already open, positioned at just the right angle, his fingers yet again lazily tapping away against the keyboard like he has all the time in the world. His iced coffee—which frankly, he doesn't deserve—sits right beside him, condensation trailing down and onto the wooden table. An easy sign that he’s been here for a while. 

Like he planned this. Like he knew. 

He looks up. 

His eyes meet yours, just for a second, and then, the slowest, most insufferable grin spreads across his face. The same shit-eating grin from yesterday. It makes your stomach twist in a way you absolutely refuse to acknowledge. 

He raises his cup slightly, like a toast. 

“Morning.”

You can’t pull yourself to say anything. So you just blink at him. 

He knows. He absolutely knows. He knows that you know, that he knows. 

“Are you,” you exhale sharply through your nose, tightening your grip on your cup, almost to the point of spilling. “Are you serious?”

He just shrugs. “What? You didn’t call dibs.”

With every fiber of your being, you absolutely hate him.

“You—” you glance up at the clock on the wall, you are scrambling to process this. “What time did you even get here?”

“Earlier than you,” he replies smoothly, taking a slow sip of his coffee. 

You grimace. 

He just looks at you. Calm and amused. Infuriatingly so. He seems the type to enjoy watching people unravel. But you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that this has genuinely thrown you off. 

So, instead, you gather everything together in you, lift your chin ever so slightly, and step forward. 

“Fine.”

You grab the same god-awful chair from yesterday—the chair that has no business even existing—and sit across from him. 

And him?

Still wearing that same stupid smile. 

The third day comes around, and you’re prepared. 

You don’t just leave early, you have a clear cut plan. Perfectly executed. 

And now, here you are, victorious.

Sitting in your rightful spot, drink in hand, soaking in the warmth of your cozy little chair. The sunlight filtering through the window, hitting just the right angle on your back, and you lean into it, savoring every single second. It’s sweet, really. You won. 

It honestly should feel a little embarrassing how smug you feel about it, but you didn’t mind too much. He did have it coming. If he thought he could steal your chair two days in a row, then he clearly had you grossly underestimated your willpower to be petty. 

You’re mid-sip, indulging in your well-earned satisfaction, when you hear the footsteps. The presence. The slight pause in movement, like someone just registered something unexpected, just as you had the days prior. 

You glance up, and there he is. 

He stands a few feet away, his bag slung over his right shoulder, his iced coffee in his opposite hand. His head tilts slightly as he takes in the scene before him. 

Then, the slowest, most ridiculously amused smile spreads across his face, leaving you curious. 

“Oh, wow.” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “You really wanted that seat, did you?”

You set your drink down, crossing your legs, leaning back into the chair like second nature. “What can I say? Everything returns to how it should be. This is universal justice.”

His lips twitch, brows furrowed, like he’s holding back a laugh. “Right. And by justice, you mean beating me here by, what? A few minutes?”

“Not my fault you slacked today.” You say, raising an eyebrow. “Seems like you’ve lost your edge.”

His eyes narrow ever so slightly. Not in an irritated way, more like he’s intrigued. He studied you for a second longer, then—

“Well.” He exhales once more, tapping his fingers against his cup. “Guess I’ll just have to take the seat across from you then, won’t I?”

And your smugness falters, just a little. 

Because of course he would. 

You shift, sitting up slightly as he moves, pulling out the chair across from yours—the very same god-forsaken, uncomfortable, completely cursed chair that you suffered in for the past two days. Except, unlike you, he doesn’t seem remotely bothered, not in the slightest. He just sets his drink down, slides into the seat, and looks right at you, as if this is all completely normal. 

You narrow your eyes. “You’re really going to sit there?”

He lifts a brow. “Did you call dibs on this too?”

Your jaw tightens at the audacity this man has. 

He takes a slow sip of his coffee, mockingly slow, before setting it down. “Besides,” he muses, tilting his head slightly, “it’s kind of nice sitting across from someone. Good company and all.”

You blink. “...We’re not company.”

“Sure we are.” 

“No, we’re not.”

He hums, unconvinced. Then after a beat he speaks again. “So, what’s your name, then?”

You pause, skeptical. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Figured if we’re gonna keep stealing seats from each other, we might as well know what to call one another.”

You study him for a moment. There’s something genuinely amazed in his expression, like he’s been entertained by you this entire time. Like this has been fun for him. 

Before you can answer, he glances at your cup, then gives you that familiar shit-eating grin. “Y/N.”

Your eyes widen. “How do you—?”

He nods at your drink. “Your name’s on the cup, genius.”

You glance down, and sure enough, there it is, scrawled in black marker across the side of your cup. 

“Oh,” you blink, feeling a little ridiculous. “Right.”

He chuckles softly, turning his own cup slightly so you can see the name written on it. 

Yunho. 

Your eyes trace over the letters as he leans forward, just a little, barely noticeable, and rests his forearms on the table. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, voice so smooth, almost like he was teasing. “I’m Yunho.”

You roll his name around in your mind. Yunho. It suits him, somehow. 

You take a moment to clear your throat. “Well, Yunho,” you say, meeting his gaze. “Just so we’re clear—this seat is mine.”

His grin only widens. “We’ll see.”

The fourth day, you tell yourself, is going to be different. 

Not because you’re going to get all worked up over a chair again. No, you’ve got things to do. Things a collegiate student has got to do; assignments to complete. You’re here for a productive study session.

Except, when you round that last corner again, Yunho is already there. 

He’s sitting in your seat and is wearing his signature smirk when he sees you approaching. 

“You’re slacking,” he says, sipping his iced coffee. “I expected better.”

You exhale through your nose, leveling him with a look. “I’m not here for games today.”

He raises an eyebrow, acting surprised. “Oh? Then what brings you to these parts?”

You wordlessly pull out the infamous chair across from him and sit down, dropping your bag onto the table. “I have work to do.”

Yunho leans forward, his hands cupping his chin as he looks up to you. “How tragic.”

You ignore him, taking out your laptop and flipping it open. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even pretend to do anything productive. Instead, he stays in the same state he was, his cheeks pressed against the palms of his hands. He just stays there for a minute, and then, his pen clicks.

You don’t acknowledge it at first. 

His pen continues to click. 

But you keep typing. 

And so does the clicking. 

You pause. Inhaling sharply, forcing yourself to stay composed, and then resume your work. 

A thumb presses down on the end of his pen a few more times and the clicks practically echo through your ears. You can only take so much of it. You slap your hand down on the table, making the pen jump from his grasp. “Do you have an actual reason to be here, or are you just here to irritate me?”

Yunho blinks. Then he grins. “Oh, I definitely have work to do.”

“...Then do it.”

He shrugs. “I work better with background noise.”

You let out a short and dry laugh, almost sounding strained. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe that?”

He tilts his head, clearly entertained by what you had to say. “What, you think I just came here to mess with you, someone I met only three days ago?”

“Yes.”

He scoffs before placing a hand over his chest in dramatics. “I am appalled by your false ideologies.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to your laptop. “If you have actual work, do it. Otherwise, find someone else to annoy.”

“Tempting,” he says, “but no one else reacts quite as such as you.”

You make it a point to ignore him, willing yourself to focus on the assignment. For a few minutes, it works, it’s quiet, save for the faint sounds of typing and shuffling pages behind you. You start to think maybe, just maybe, you’ll get some work done today. 

Then he speaks again. 

“I think you should take a break.”

You don’t stop typing, you don’t even look up. “I’ve been working for ten minutes.”

“Exactly. I think you’re overworking yourself.”

Your lips pressed together in a straight, thin line. “You just want me to stop working so you can bother me more.”

“Maybe,” he admits. Then after a beat, “Or maybe I just think it’s a little unfair that we’re sitting here and not talking.”

You finally glance at him, skeptical, wary. “Why do you want to talk to me so badly?”

He sits and acts as if he’s thinking hard on the topic, going far enough to point a finger to his lips as his eyes furrow into each other, like he’s deep in thought. He seemed to enjoy this. Humming, he says “Maybe because you’re the only person in this library that looks personally offended by my being here.”

You scowl. “I’m not offended. Just… mildly inconvenienced.”

“Ah, so you do like me then.”

You scoff, turning back to your laptop. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Yunho.”

He hums, seemingly satisfied. “Oh, so now you’re calling me by my name?”

You don’t respond, instead pretending to type something important. Yunho chuckles softly before reaching for his coffee, taking a slow, deep sip as he watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. 

Eventually, his eyes shifted from you, to your laptop, he appeared to be tuning into the sound of the keys clacking, one after the other. And from the laptop, his eyes followed to the drink you brought with. A sixteen ounce iced strawberry lemonade mixed with black tea and popping boba. The exact order stickered onto the side of the cup with your name scribbled to the left.  The exact same one from the days before. 

Eventually, he followed your lead and did his own studying, both of you working silently away. The minutes continued on as the two of you were engulfed in your academics, until eventually the library closed for the day, the two of you heading your separate ways. 

You’re already running late, which never happens. Usually, you’re the first one at the library, tucked into your usual spot before the place fills up. But today, Thirty minutes were stolen from you. You were in your sweatpants, and barely awake. And of course, as you rounded the corner, the first thing you see when you walk in is Yunho—leaning into the chair, looking up from his laptop.

“Thought I’d see you eventually,” he says, casually stirring his drink in his hand. “Here.” he continues as he pushes a familiar pink drink your way. 

You blink at him. “You- you ordered for me?”

Yunho shrugs, just pushing the cup even further across the table. “You’re never this late. Figured something tragic must’ve happened, like, maybe you overslept for the first time in your life.”

You narrowed your eyes, inspecting the label. Sure enough, it’s exactly what you would have ordered given the chance. “How would you even know what I get?”

“Habit of mine,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I pay attention.”

You let out a breath of air, sliding into the chair across from him and flipping open your laptop. “That’s a little creepy.”

“Oh definitely.” He takes a sip of his drink, then gestures at your outfit with an amused look. “Gotta say, sweatpants are a new look for you.”

You just groan. “Don’t start.”

“No, I mean it,” he says, leaning back, his grin only widening. “It’s a good look on you.”

You pause. Blinking at him again. He isn’t teasing—well, maybe a little—but there’s something fairly effortless about the way he says it that makes your face warm, just a little. It’s either the sheer confidence of it or the fact that it’s coming from him, of all people. However, you are determined not to let him get the upper hand, you roll your eyes and turn your attention to your laptop. “What are you pretending to work on today?”

“Same thing as you.”

Your lips pulled to one side, almost frowning. “What?”

“We’re in the same class, genius.”

Your brain practically stutters. “No we’re not—”

“East wing, big lecture hall, right? Got to be at least two hundred students? You sit near the front.”

You hesitate for a moment before you nod.”

Yunho raises a brow, looking a little too pleased with himself. “Exactly. I sit further back.”

You stare at him, trying to process this information. “You’ve been in my class this whole time?”

He nods, tapping his fingers against the table. “Guess you just never noticed.”

Your cheeks flushed a rosy color again. You go to open your mouth, then close it again in a hurry. You don’t know why you’re feeling so oddly flustered. “Well, sorry, but I actually pay attention to the professor, not the people behind me.”

Yunho chuckles. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Something about the way he says it—lighthearted, so amused, but also kind of observant—it makes your stomach continue to twist in a weird way. Has he been noticing you this whole time? Shaking the thought away, you change the subject. “Alright, so what’s the assignment this time?”

“The paper. The one due next week.”

You groan yet again, rubbing your temples in slight pain of the topic. “Right. That one.”

Yunho tilts his head. “Don’t tell me you haven’t started.”

“Oh, I’ve started,” you mutter. “Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

He chuckles, nodding in a quiet understanding before he talks again. “Yeah, I get that. I’m still trying to wrap my head around half the material myself.”

You glance at him, curiosity now piqued. “You don’t get it?”

“Not all of it,” he admits, spinning the pen effortlessly between his fingers. It almost seemed dwarfed in his hand. “Takes me a while to really absorb everything. That’s why I usually keep studying after the library closes.”

You blink, taking in the almost shocking information. “Wait—you study after the library closes?”

Yunho shrugs. “Yeah. Just go back to my dorm and keep going until it just sticks.”

Something about that makes you pause. You’ve never really thought about how he works, you always assumed he was the kind of person who breezed through everything, given his calm and collected demeanor. The idea that he has to put in extra effort, that he stays up late grinding through the material, makes you look at him differently. “I didn’t know you studied that hard,” you say.

Yunho tilts his head sideways, leaning in. His head perched on his left hand whilst his right continues bobbing the pen back and forth.  “Some of us aren’t naturally geniuses.”

You huff a small laugh in retort. “You could’ve asked for help, you know.”

He stares back at you before letting his lips twitch upwards. “Oh? And miss out on all of this? Nah.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something about the exchange that feels a little different. Less like your usual bickering, there’s a little something more to his teasing this time, even if it’s small.

The thought lingers as you turn back to your laptop, typing out a few sentences before glancing at him again. He’s still spinning his pen, deep in thought, lips slightly pursed. He must sense you watching him because he looks up, eyes meeting yours in a way that makes your breath catch for just a second. 

He tilts his head. “What?”

You shake your head quickly, looking away. “Nothing.”

There’s a pause. And then, “You know, if you’re feeling generous, you could help me study sometime. You know, you do owe me a drink.”

You glance back at him, raising a brow. “After the library closes?”

His lips quirk up. “That is, if you’re up for it.”

A small silence settles between the two of you. He’s sitting there with a grin on his face, not the usually shit-eating one, but an easy one, something that makes you feel uncomfortably calm. You tap your finger against your laptop, considering the offer. 

“Maybe,” you say. “If you promise to stop making fun of my sweatpants.”

His grin grows a little deeper. “No promises.”

You roll your eyes yet again, but your lips twitch up despite your knowledge. The assignment still looms over you, and you know there’s work to be done, but for now, maybe you could let it wait. There’s always time to study after the library closes. 

[cheriewoo]

Hit After Hit | Jeong Yunho & Song Mingi.ft Wooyoung ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 18 : Just the tip

↬ [ Synopsis ] : As you're cooped up in stress while working on ATEEZ's title track, your bestie Wooyoung suggests a little game. Yunho and Mingi join in on the fun, helping to take your stress away while you cook up a banger title track for ATEEZ’s comeback.

☆Word Count : 3.8k ☆Genre : Smut, Ansgt, Idol Au. ☆Pairing : Idol! Yunho x Producer! F.Reader x Idol! Mingi ( alil bit of Wooyoung in the beginning)

☆☆☆WARNINGS : Smut, just the tip kink, angst, reader is stressed, work talks, Wooyoung the savior, neck kisses, edging, nipple paly, double penetration, praise, pet names(princess, doll, baby), unprotected sex ( wrap it up babies), Yunho and Mingi share you like a freaking baton rewarding you one after the other.

NOTE : Grinding hard to catchup my loves as my exams had a chokehold on me as I deliver Day 18 to you. Since you guys really loved Damsel In Stress with Yunho and Mingi, I am here with another one for you. Our doll-princess duo are back. Hope you enjoy it ma chéries.

Today marked the worst day of your life. Literally!

After a messed-up coffee order, an extremely heated feedback session with Eden, and the worst creative block ever, all you wanted was to lock yourself in your room and sleep the night away. But, sadly, sleep was the last thing on your long checklist of things to fix in ATEEZ’s new comeback song, and considering that, sleep probably didn’t even exist on that list.

With Hongjoong busy handling other aspects, Eden had entrusted you with the title track this time, and you happily accepted it. Given your track record of producing amazing work in the past, this opportunity was well-deserved.

But being entrusted with ATEEZ’s title song is no easy responsibility, and Eden wasn’t an easy boss to impress. Your creative block had really killed the best of your skills, and everything was off about the piece you presented. Hence, the feedback was fair in every possible way.

With every passing second, your frustration only grew as you scrapped everything the moment you put it down. With a two-day deadline to come up with a completely new, 100% successful piece, the blank slate in front of you didn’t help, and a sob choked out of your lips.

“Fuck!” you screamed, burying your head between your hands as you tried desperately to come up with new beats that would match the track’s vibe.

Suddenly, a pair of hands slipped onto your shoulders, gently massaging, and you felt a calming presence behind you. Of your roommate, Wooyoung.His hands gently massaged your shoulders as he spoke softly, “You’re pushing yourself too hard again, aren’t you?”

You took a deep breath, leaning back in your chair. "I don’t have a choice, Woo. The deadline’s in two days, and nothing’s working. Everything sounds wrong."

He hummed, his hand gently brushing through your hair. "You’re just stuck in your head. Take a break, reset, and come back with fresh ears."

"I can’t," you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. "There’s no time."

Wooyoung leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "There’s time for a little distraction. San and Yunho are coming over—movie night?" His voice was teasing but gentle.

You sighed. "I really shouldn’t, Woo—" Your mind felt too cluttered to even finish.

"Exactly why you should." He grinned, still massaging your shoulders. "Come on, we’ll make popcorn, watch something ridiculous, and you’ll feel better. Trust me."

You glanced at the screen, hesitation creeping in. "But the comeback... I can’t let the team down. Especially not with the title track."

Wooyoung paused, squeezing your shoulders. "You won’t. Eden trusts you, we trust you, and you should trust yourself too."

"But what if I mess it up? What if it’s not good enough?" you asked, doubt in your voice.

He smiled. "You’ve never let us down, even when you think you’re off. That’s why Eden gave you the title track. He knows you can do it, and so do I."

His words slowly eased the weight on your chest, and you exhaled.

“Look,” Wooyoung continued, “San , Mingi and Yunho will be here soon. We’ll watch something fun, reset, and tomorrow, you’ll crush it. I know you will.”

You chuckled softly. "Okay… but just for a little while."

Wooyoung lit up, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before eagerly pulling you up from the chair. "Let’s go!" he exclaimed, already dragging you toward the living room with excitement.

The movie truly turned out to be ridiculous. San passed out on the couch with his arm loosely draped over your shoulder, while Yunho and Mingi struggled to keep their eyes open on either side of you, and Wooyoung trying his hardest to endure the boring film. But the time away from the screen did clear your mind, a few fresh ideas began to emerge, and you weren’t feeling stuck anymore.

Carefully, getting your head off Woo’s shoulder and moving San’s hand off, you got up from between Wooyoung and Yunho, tiptoeing to your room.

Let’s finish this fucking piece already.

You felt motivated. But just for a while I guess as that motivation faded away into the night. Real soon.

As 30 minutes passed by, you found yourself back at square one, the blank slate laughing at you, mocking you through the screen. The fresh ideas you had turned out to be useless as you chewed on your lower lip in frustration.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the faint sound of your bedroom door opening and closing as three figures entered.

A tap on you shoulder had you jump out off your chair as Wooyoung, Yunho and Mingi stared at you. All three of them exchanged a knowing look between the three of them. Yunho was the first one to break silence, “Can we help you in anyway, pretty girl ?”

“I don’t know if even God could help me out of this fucking situation,” you cried, not literally. It was more like a cry for help as a pout formed on your lips. You needed something-anything- to focus, a gentle push in the right direction and distraction to take your mind of the looming deadline. That’s when Wooyoung chimed in with the most bizarre idea.

A year ago, when you joined KQ, you were one of ATEEZ's biggest fans, running a full-fledged fan page dedicated to them. Your life had taken a complete 180 when a mix of one of their songs caught Eden's attention, leading him to call you and offer you a small project. Two years later, you found yourself working on some of ATEEZ's biggest projects, becoming close friends with the boys and even sharing a flat with Wooyoung. It was a “just friends” vibe, filled with occasional flirting and playful touches, but nothing more… until now.

“We thought it might be fun to turn this into a little… game,” Wooyoung said, taking your laptop off the table and walked toward the bed. Your brow arched in curiosity as you glanced betwween Yunho and Mingi, who met your gaze with a smirk,their eyes shining with mischief. Yunho guided you to the bed, and Mingi followed behind you, a sleepy grin on his face.

Your mind was a mush of nervousness and excitement as you were excited as well to see where everything’s gonna go. Yunho freed himself of his clothes as he settled comfortably on the bed, tapping his lap invitingly. Wooyoung positioned himself to Yunho's right, while Mingi took his place on the left, creating a cozy but spicy atmosphere.

Confusion swirled within you, and although your mind urged you to stop, your body betrayed you. A shiver ran down your spine as Yunho’s hands began unbuttoning your night shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps whenever his fingertips playfully touched the front your chest.

“What’s running through your guys’ minds, huh?” you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and excitement, trying to shift off Yunho's lap. But he was quick to hold you in place, keeping you steady as Wooyoung knelt beside you, leaning in close as the mattress dipping beneath his weight.

“We thought you could use a little thrust after every progress you make on the mix,” Wooyoung explained, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “But you won’t be fully rewarded until you finish the song. Just the tip, baby. Ok ?” His voice was low and teasing, his warm breath brushing against your lips.

His lips, so close to yours, were impossible to resist. Your gaze flicked to them, and without missing a beat, Wooyoung captured your mouth in a hot, wet kiss, his hand firm on your jaw as you eagerly reciprocated. The kiss was brief but intense, leaving you flushed and breathless as he pulled away.

With a smirk, Wooyoung wiped the corner of his mouth and said, “I’ll leave the big boys to take care of you. Fighting, babe. You can finish this.” His voice held a playful encouragement as he slipped off the bed, making his way toward the door.

“But Woo… won’t you stay?” you asked, your lips still tingling from the kiss, eyes wide with anticipation.

“I really want to babe..but there is a kitten in the living room waiting for me.” Wooyoung shot you a cheeky grin, refering to our sleepy kitten, San who had dozed off earlier and with that he ran out the room leaving you with the big boys.

Yunho at this point had fully freed you off you clothes, which you only realised after cold air brushed against your naked form. Both Yunho and Mingi fully naked, sprawled on the the bed with you in between along with your tiny laptop.

All of this was happening a lil too quickly for you to make sense of it.The whole situation felt surreal, like a dream.Anyhow, whatever gets you to finish up the song track, i guess.

You settled into the rhythm of the game, your heart racing as you got started on the brass section, the boys providing just the distraction you needed to refocus. Yunho’s warm breath on your neck, his hands resting on your waist, and his body pressed up against yours radiated comforting warmth. Mingi sat beside you, his eyes gleaming with mischief as his large hands rubbed your soft thighs, occasionally squeezing them.

“You’ve got this, princess,” Yunho murmured against your ear, his lips brushing lightly against your skin as his hands slid lower, teasingly close but not quite enough to stop you from working.

You focused on the laptop, your fingers moving over the keys as you adjusted the mix. The brass section slowly began to take shape, but every shift of Yunho’s hips beneath you sent a shiver up your spine. It was hard to stay grounded in the music, especially when his hands tightened around you while Mingi’s fingers worked magic on your thighs.

“Work hard, doll. Finish it while we take care of you,” Mingi’s deep voice rumbled through you, sending another wave of heat to your core. Only you knew the struggle of resisting the urge to toss the laptop aside and give in to them completely.

The moment you hit “save,” completing the brass section, Yunho’s lips curled into a smirk. His hands pulled you closer against him, and his hips lifted slightly.

“First thrust, princess. Ready?” he whispered, his voice a low tease. He gave you a single, slow thrust, not fully bottoming out, just enough to make your breath hitch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and your body instinctively arched into him as warmth spread through you. He held you close, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. “That’s your reward, princess.”

After a moment, he pulled out completely, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss of fullness. With a smirk, he handed you over to Mingi like a baton in a relay race, ready for the chorus section.

You moved over to Mingi’s lap, the switch smooth but leaving you feeling light-headed and NO!, its not just from the work. His large, warm hands settled possessively around your hips, adjusting you on top of him with a firm grip. Yunho moved to your side, still within reach, his fingers brushing your arm left goosebumps in their wake.

Mingi’s lips ghosted over your shoulder, kissing the tattoo behind it as you began working on the chorus. And just like how the chorus elevates a song, Mingi took things up a level, rubbing the tip of his long, thick cock against your slippery folds.

“This is torture, you know.” you muttered, eyes never leaving the screen, feeling Mingi smile against your shoulder. The friction between your cunt and his cock created a delicious rhythm, pushing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Whatever keeps you working, princess,” Yunho teased, stealing a quick kiss that made you smile. His hand moved to Mingi's cock, applying just enough pressure to push the tip into your aching hole. You gasped audibly, blinking a couple of times, but Mingi pulled away before you could fully give in.

Mingi chuckled, the deep sound vibrating against your back, sending shivers through you. Yunho’s teasing and encouraging touches kept you on the edge, but they somehow helped you wrap up the chorus section.

The boys hummed in unison, approving the direction the song was going, giving you hope that you might actually finish it.

As you saved the chorus section, Mingi rewarded you with his first proper thrust. His hips moved slowly and deliberately, though he didn’t bottom out, stretching you just enough to make you feel the burn.A moan finally escaped your lips as your walls welcomed him in, your fingers gripping the laptop. The mix was saved, but your focus shattered.

“You’re so perfect, doll. In every fucking way.” Mingi murmured, his deep voice like velvet in your ear. “This title track’s gonna be a banger.” he added, as Yunho nodded with a genuine smile.

If only you got this kind of encouragement for every single project.You’d be unstoppable.

Next, lets add the drums.

This time you ended up between both of them. As your worked on the next section, Yunho hands made way down south as he found you aching clit, pinching it which had your hands tremble on the keyword from the intense sensation. A low gasp left your lips, but your refocused.

Mingi’s hands wiped the sweat the trickled on your forehead which was kinda ironic given the air condition was at it lowest. Moving a few stands of hairs away from your face his hand found your tatoo again. Guess he had found a new love for it as his hands traced softly on the tatoo.

As you added beats after beats in the drums section, Yunho’s fingers also moved with intensity, matching the beats somehow. His fingers (add something here)

While Mingi’s attention stayed on your tatoo, his one hand busy tracing, his other hand found you boobs. Cupped the left one, he gently squeezed it as you shuddered at the sudden attention there. His long fingers pinched you nipples as the intensity matched with Yunho intense rubs on your dripping cunt but he did not enter you, yet.

Finally you finished the drums section and were ready to earn your rewards and the boys were eager to give. Your gazed flicked, trying to make a decision. Technically you should go with Yunho to play fair but Mingi attracted you equally. So you decided to go with both as you settle in between them, with Yunho below you and Mingi on top of you. Their huge cocks, entered your both holes, stretching them deliciously as your toes curled, a loud moan escaped your lips while the two boys groaned. Not fully bottom out, just stretching you deliciously and after a while they pull out.

You sit up, eyes hazy from the beautiful sensation you just experienced. You needed that more. And not just teasing you wanted them to fuck your properly.

Your eyes burned with fire as you dramatically stretched you hands to bang out the second chorus and final touches, wanting to wrap it up for once and all. The boys chuckled at your antics but were equally impressed as the song fiinally taking shape amazingly.

This time, you sat between both of them. As you worked on the next section, Yunho’s hands traveled down south, finding your aching clit. He pinched it gently, sending tremors through your body and causing your fingers to tremble on the keyboard from the intense sensation. A low moan escaped your lips, but you forced yourself to refocus.

Mingi’s hand brushed the sweat trickling down your forehead, which felt ironic given that the air conditioning was set to its lowest. He moved a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers tracing your tattoo once more. It seemed he had developed a newfound affection for it ashe softly traced the inky piece.

With each beat you added to the drum section, Yunho’s fingers moved with increasing intensity, matching the rhythm somehow. He pressed down firmly on your clit, his fingers dancing and teasing, heightening the sensations building within you.

While Mingi's attention remained on your tattoo, one hand tracing it gently, the other found your breast. He cupped your left one, squeezing it gently as you shuddered from the sudden attention. His long fingers pinched your nipple, the intensity aligning perfectly with Yunho's passionate rubs on your dripping cunt, but neither of his fingers fully entered you,yet.

Finally, you finished the drum section and were ready to earn your rewards, and the boys were eager to give.

Your gaze flicked back and forth, trying to make a decision. Technically, you should go with Yunho to play fair, but Mingi attracted you just as much.

So you chose both of them.

You settled in between them, with Yunho below you and Mingi above. Their huge cocks entered both your holes, stretching you deliciously as your toes curled and a loud moan escaped your lips, ripping out groans from both the boys. They didn’t fully bottom out, just stretching you exquisitely, and after a while, they pulled out.

You sat up, eyes hazy from the beautiful sensations you had just experienced. You craved more. Not just teasing, you wanted them the whole experience, you wanted them to fuck you properly.

Your eyes burned with determination as you dramatically stretched your hands to bang out the second chorus and final touches, wanting to wrap it up once and for all. The boys chuckled at your antics, but they were equally impressed as the song finally took shape beautifully. It had the Ateez vibe. Almost.

Lets go!

The second chorus part wrapped up in a swoosh as the boys exchanged amazed looks, seeing you fully in the zone. Your fingers quickly worked on the keyboard, layering and layering more and more, bringing the whole piece together. Everything was aligning perfectly as hope surged inside you; the piece turned out beautifully. You were fully confident now that Eden would be so proud and satisfied once he listened to this.

Wrapping up the chorus and adding final touches to the track, you looked at the boys, your eyes requesting them to keep working and finish it out. They both chuckled as they let you continue.

A smile adorned Mingi’s face, his eyes holding adoration for you and your determination. He remembered the first day he saw you in the KQ building when Eden brought you in, and now seeing your work on your title track made him so happy. He had always found you cute and wondered if you were single or not.

Yunho’s mind also ran a reel of memories where you celebrated with them after every one of their comebacks. Your smile had imprinted in his mind, and your laughter rang in his ears. How amazing those times were, he thought, as he eagerly waited for this comeback to become a banger so you could join them again.

“Done!!!” you shouted, your hands up in the air. Your scream pulled them out of their thoughts. “Wanna listen?” you asked, eagerly waiting for them to say yes.

After they finished listening, they were truly in awe of how your little head could come up with such amazing stuff and also proud that you could bang out the whole track in one single night.

“Now shall we return to what we left unfinished?” Yunho asked, his eyes playfully narrowed at you, awaiting your approval. You nodded eagerly.

With that, not wasting a single second, Mingi captured your lips.

Mingi’s lips were warm against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You melted into the kiss, feeling the weight of the night’s hard work slip away as the tension in the air shifted to something much more intimate. His big hands held your face, deepening the kiss as he pulled you closer. You could feel Yunho’s gaze on you, a mix of hunger and amusement in his eyes as he watched the two of you.

“Careful there, Mingi,” Yunho teased, his voice a low growl. “Don’t make her forget all the hard work she just did.”

Mingi chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through you and making you smile. “Oh, I think she’ll remember, especially when I’m done with her.”

Breaking the kiss, Mingi leaned back slightly to meet your eyes, “You ready for round two?” he asked, his voice laced with lust.

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “More than ready,” you admitted, glancing at Yunho, who looked like he was holding back a smile.

“That’s like my pretty doll.” he said, moving closer.

With that, Mingi shifted you to the side, allowing Yunho to slide behind you. You settled back against him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you. His hands found your waist, guiding you as he leaned in to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Mingi wasted no time as he gave his cock a few storkes before he lined himself against your dripping entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside, stretching your delicoulsy again and he leaned in to capture your lips again. Yunho’s hands guided your hips to his throbbing cock, gently lining himself at your asshole he filled you in as well.

“Let’s see how well you can multitask with both of us filling you, princess.” Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath warm and inviting.

With Mingi's steady thrusts and Yunho's rhythmic movements, you felt the world around you begin to fade away. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body caught in a delicious rhythm between the two of them. Mingi's kisses grew more intense, igniting a fire within you, while Yunho's fingers gripped your waist, guiding you to meet their thrusts as you became lost in the sensations.

“You are taking us so well, doll,” Mingi murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy.

You moaned in response, unable to form words as pleasure built within you, the tension in your core tightening with each thrust and all the teasing you had endured the whole night. Yunho's voice in your ear only intensified the pleasure. “Come for us, princess. You deserve it after that whole night of work.”

The way they filled you was intoxicating, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the warmth pooling deep inside you, a sweet release that was just within reach.

With every thrust, every kiss, every word that left their lips you were pushed closer to the edge, making your heart race.

Finally, with a few more deep thrusts and the sound of Mingi's low growls mingling with Yunho's soft whispers, the tension inside you snapped. You cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless.

“I’m—oh my god,Ugh this feels heavenly.” you gasped, the world filled with bliss as you felt them both gently pull out of you, as they found their own release and covered you stomach and back with white ribbons of hot cum.

As you recovered from the release, Wooyoung barged in, his hair and face a mess, proof of the wild night he had with San in the living room. His eyes were already closed, as if he assumed you’d be in some intimate position. “Want an early morning snack, guys?” he asked. Your eyes flicked to the clock, it was 5 AM in the morning.

Wow! That was a long-ass session.

“Yes, please. I am starving,” you replied dramatically, earning a chuckle from both Yunho and Mingi as you all dressed and made your way outside the room to the kitchen.

Later that day, you found yourself standing in front of Eden, your heart racing as you handed over the final piece. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his expression unreadable while he listened carefully.

Finally, as the track came to an end, Eden leaned back in his chair, a small but approving smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “This is solid work. This will be on the album for sure.” he said, his voice carrying the praise you had been waiting for. And just like that, relief and pride washed over you. All the hard work, the sleepless night, it was worth it.

You couldn’t help but grin, the weight of the project finally lifting off your shoulders.

Gotta thank Wooyoungie and the boys for being such good focus buddies.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[ki2rins]

⟢ SUGARBOT - pjs

four - stupid [redacted]

warning : contains a slur in the text message. READ ONLY IF COMFORTABLE.

written wc : 557 words

prev | masterlist | next

as soon as jay got into his car, a notification appeared on his screen. his hand swiftly reached into his dress pants and whipped out his phone to check the message.

"knock knock sugarbot here! we are ready to show you some profiles! type /show to start, /like to send a like to someone, /next for the next profile and /stop to have a break. enjoy!"

jay slid down on his seat to get comfortable while pressing on the notification, bringing him to the chatbot. once in the chatbot, his fingers danced on the keyboard and sent out the message. and in an instant a profile appeared on his screen.

"kim yuri, 18. hi are you looking for the one? because youre looking at me. like my profile for me to give you the time of your life!"

while jay analysed the the profile, something in his head screamed 'stop' as he glanced at the age. without even looking at her picture, he typed out /next at the speed of light.

minutes have passed and no profiles have impressed him. they were either too young, too scandalous or too greedy. with a sigh he typed out '/next' for the umpteenth time, mentally telling himself that this would be the last profile before he would have to call jake to ask him to hurry his ass up since they were running late.

"yn, 20. hi im yn! im new on the bot, just trying things out here!"

a soft smile crept out from jay’s lips. his checklist was checked out. 20 years old? not too far from his mature age so check! profile picture? a nice simple faceless shot that made him curious on her looks so check! lastly, her bio. a bio of what seems like a honest being and jay himself was new on the chatbot too so check!

as jay was thinking on whether to like the profile, the door of the passenger side flung wide open.

"my bad bro, was looking for the contract.' jake entered the car and glanced at his friend in the driver seat 'what are you looking at?"

"nothing much, just checking out sugarbot." jay muttered without any hesitation as he typed out "/like" on his phone before shoving it back into his pockets.

with the mention of the word sugarbot, jake’s eyes immediately lid up. however, before the man could even say anything, jay lifted his palm up right in front of his face.

"shut it, we are already late for the meeting. keep your words for later and double check on all the paperwork we need for later." he demanded before starting up the car’s engine and swiftly started the trip.

jake groaned in annoyance upon hearing jay’s words. the man beside him was no doubt a work oriented person who spends more than half of his day at the office, putting in his 200% to close deals both regionally and internationally.

however, he was also pleased that jay was putting in subtle effort to do something other than work. he knows that his friend went through a tough period when things ended with his ex three years ago. what hurt him most was that it was a mutual breakup. but for now, it was time for them to focus on a deal codenamed - mr fucking han.

rin’s yap : sorry for being ia this week, had loads of exams and presentations ☹️ but heres an update for sugarbot!

taglist! : open! reply on this post and i’ll add you to the taglist!

@kaykay11sworld @jvngw0nlvr @meowseong @enhaz1 @jakeswifez @nshmrarki @ice-dandan20 @ziiao @minawannabealone @enhamonsterghoul @d-dilemma @urmomdotcom5678 @starry-eyed-bimbo @r1kixss @jensyed @notab1tchwho @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @jooniesbears-blog @seongiewon @jayyvvhxss @younjo @siimplestar @suhwife @immprettywhenyoucry @machambrx @luvleyylina @maniluvzyou @ezekiel-bublz @lovingjongseong @in-somnias-world @strayy-kidz @xoaumin @wonnieluv @rairaiblog @dark-moon-light02

© ki2rins 2025, please do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[possibilistfanfiction]

For the caitvi: dog meet cute

[if u have been here a minute u know i try to give every character a border collie bc they're my passion lol HOWEVER. vi + a big rescue pitty is an actual dream come true. i just rly love dogs & force free handling & nurturing of dogs. so here u go, they are my babies]

//

vi is practically vibrating next to you in excitement, which is endearing but a little unsettling as she drives. she'd insisted you take her bronco, because she's convinced the car will immediately be scratched and dirty inside — which isn't even true, and also she's put more work into her car than you ever will any of yours. still, you'd acquiesced without too much arguing — more for fun than anything else — and then gone through the actual items on the checklist the rescue had recommended. you spent the past day making sure there were no holes in the fence and that the gate properly latched; you'd gotten bowls and the food recommended by the vet you'd found — fear free certified, vi had said after her research, proudly showing you the results of a very nice vet clinic near your new house — and a few toys and balls, a snuffle mat, and a cute little toy you can fill with peanut butter or yogurt for him to lick. you'd gotten a ton of training treats and bully sticks, marrow bones and duck feet; you pick out two comfortable beds to put in the living room and your bedroom; vi had liked a pink harness, collar, and 6' lead, which had made you laugh and then kiss her right in the middle of the pet store; you order a long lead to go with it later that night.

so, by all accounts and purposes, you are very ready.

still, vi is acting more nervous than she had when she'd taken her lieutenant's exam a few months ago, more nervous than when you were waiting to hear back about jinx's acceptance to her graduate program, more nervous than the first night you'd really moved into your house and fell asleep on the couch, sated and spent, in front of the fireplace. you'd loved this house for many reasons, but one of the big ones was its beautiful yard: vi has been looking at rescue dogs on her phone for the entire time you've known her.

'i can't believe it's really happening,' she says, again, as she takes the turn onto the street the rescue is located on.

'we're going to have so much fun, and give him such a good home.'

she breathes a sigh out and takes her hand off the gear shift to squeeze yours. you'd brought it up a few weeks ago, maybe looking into a dog, since you had the space, and you lived together now, and you owned the house, rather than having pet restrictions in an apartment. there had been a million excuses she'd offered, all of them poor and all of them because she was just nervous. you know how well you can manage things, how that's a way you're good at showing your love, and you know how gentle and nurturing v's nature is when given the chance.

she parks and you kiss her gently. 'hey, any dog would be lucky to be raised by rich lesbians with no kids.'

it gets her to laugh, finally, her nerves dissipating. 'speak for yourself. i'm not rich.'

you roll your eyes — it's not a secret that you want to get married one day, that you like making sure that vi — and her family — has everything they need, especially since you make enough money through your own work to not need any of your trust fund. 'rich in love.'

she groans but takes your hand anyway, laces your fingers together before you open the door.

the rescue coordinator and trainer meet you in the lobby, smiling, and compliment vi on her treat bag and the collar, harness, and leash set you'd brought. you had applied for the dog the week before, having seen his picture for one second and then showing it to vi, and you'd watched a soft smile grow on her face. you'd gone through a video call interview, and now all that's left is an in-person meet-up to see if a trial adoption period feels good for both of you and the dog.

he's already alone in the little play yard with one of the other volunteers, and you hear vi sniffle next to you, and then laugh, when you look her way, before getting down on her knees.

'hi, atlas,' she says, as you crouch down too, and it doesn't take even a second before the dog — muscular and goofy, with a blocky head, mostly black fur with a few white spots — bounds over to both of you and bowls vi over with how excited he is.

you laugh, and you get out your phone to take a few pictures; vi kisses his head and you rub behind his ears. you understand that it's important, and good, that the rescue does a trial adoption period, but his eyes are a grey-blue and he has a scar above one of them, and after vi throws the ball and you play tug with him a little, he just lies down half in her lap while she scratches his offered tummy — you know that there's no way this dog is ever going back.

'it's a good thing you're, uh, you know... fit,' the trainer says, a little flustered at the obvious muscles and veins of vi's arms in one of her t-shirts, you think, which, okay, you do understand. 'we're working on his leash skills, still, and he's getting so much better! but he's a strong guy.'

you'd, of course, read atlas' bio: he was rescued off the side of the road, alone, starving and sick, and he's spent almost the last two years at the rescue, cared for, of course, but overstimulated. he's loved his field trips, and he's friendly to kids, other dogs, even cats. he's active, park plays and hikes, but he really just wants to cuddle and sleep. mostly, he's been overlooked because he's a strong pit bull with a big bark. vi had immediately wanted him, even if she hadn't quite said so: you'd understood.

the trainer talks you through helping him feel safe as you put his new harness on, but he really doesn't seem to care at all when you offer him some chicken as a reward after. he licks your face and, admittedly, you are kind of in love already. the trainer plays with him while you and vi go inside and fill out the final paperwork, and he seems more subdued when you come back. but, 'you're so smart, huh?' vi says to him, the second he starts getting excited when she takes his leash and walks toward the exit. he starts whining and pulling, but when you get through the door, your hand in vi's, atlas turns around and jumps on both of you a few times. it doesn't bother you, and it makes vi cry, so you don't even try to coax him away with treats: you just let him feel freedom, safe and sound, for the first time.

//

atlas rides calmly in the car on the way home, watching everything out the window in his little dog car hammock, easily tolerating when you'd secured him with the seat belt extension that attached to his harness. jinx, unsurprisingly, has already come over when you get home, and she laughs and falls back on the ground, letting him lick all over her face, when he rams into her in hello. she slips a custom, thank you very much bandana — a lot of neon pink — onto him and kisses his forehead, but she has class, she pouts, so she promises to be over again tomorrow to play with him.

you and vi show atlas around the house, direct him to some toys; vi gives him a few chew options to see which one he'll pick — a beef marrow bone, no surprised there — and then he settles on the bed in the living room and works on his bone for an hour, both of you just smiling and watching from the couch, before he finishes and lumbers over to you, hopping up and burrowing in between you with a sigh.

vi starts to cry again, which makes you start to cry, and you both just sit there, laughing too, while you pet him.

'you have to know that this is, like, you in dog form, right?' you ask eventually.

'a brilliant and sensitive heart behind a strong, rugged exterior? of course.'

she's using humor to deflect — you both know at this point — but you let her get away with it this time.

//

atlas settles in easily, like he was always meant to be yours, and maybe he was. one morning, when vi is on shift, you take him on his long line to your favorite trail just outside the city and just let him walk and sniff for an hour or so, and then sit with you on the patio of your favorite cafe while you have a coffee. he sleeps and says hello when people ask, and, while he still gets so excited he often knocks jinx and vi over still when they get home, he's so gentle greeting strangers that you have to fight back tears. when you take him to the crag a month in, he makes friends with every person there and then gnaws on a bully stick before sleeping the afternoon away in a patch of sun.

for years, since you'd met vi, she'd had a hard time sleeping: you knew why, and you understood it. you'd tried all kinds of things to help with her insomnia and nightmares: therapy, and medication, and different techniques to ground and calm. it's always been a losing battle, though, things getting worse after long, hard shifts where calls had gone bad; oftentimes you'd get home from a full day at work and she hadn't slept at all since she got home from a 24 hour shift that morning: it hasn't been uncommon for her to go thirty hours without any good sleep for as long as you'd known her.

today, you'd been expecting the same thing: dark circles beneath her eyes, exhausted muscles that still can't rest, a painstakingly cooked dinner she'd prepared to, somehow, in her mind, make up for all of it. you'd talked to her on her drive home this morning, her short responses about the call she'd gone on dealing with an apartment fire in her childhood neighborhood last night telling you more than a robust description ever could.

when you walk in, though, the living room is dark, the fireplace mostly embers. it's cold outside, windy and probably going to snow tonight, so usually she would stoke it for you before you get home. there's no smell of dinner, and you don't hear atlas' paws scrambling to come jump on you in hello. for a split second, you're kind of terrified, before you notice the sound of snoring, and then your eyes find them: atlas is almost completely on top of vi on the couch, one of her hands still on his shoulders and the other stretched behind her head. they're both breathing deeply, soft snuffles and sighs, and you almost sink to your knees right then and there. you have your own demons, your own discussions in therapy and fights with your mom and aches in the middle of the night, but vi spent years of her life in the dark, alone, kept from any love or care, being treated like a dangerous animal. you want to marry her; you want jinx to annoy the hell out of you for years; you want a life with her, forever.

so you wipe your tears and put your coat away quietly, put your bag away and set your computer to charge in the office. you'd tentatively made plans to climb with vi after you'd gotten off work, mostly because it helps regulate her nervous system, even if you're both exhausted. but instead, you ease yourself gently onto the coffee table across from the couch and touch her face, then scratch behind atlas' soft ears.

'hello, my darlings.'

vi startles awake, disoriented, but then takes stock of atlas — who seems excited you're home, from the happy thump of his tail, but unwilling to move, far too warm and comfortable — and her eyes meet yours, a little smile sneaking its way onto her face. 'hey, cupcake.'

'it's nearly six.'

'oh. wow.'

'yeah?'

'i've been asleep for, like, five hours, i guess.'

you both almost burst into tears, but you kiss her forehead instead and say, 'shall we order in? movie night? it looks like mr. atlas here doesn't want to give up his prime spot.'

vi rubs her thumb along your cheek, always adoring, always gentle. 'ramen?'

'you drive a hard bargain.'

you don't talk about it further then: you go change into a pair of shorts and one of vi's sweaters, and atlas pouts but makes room for you on the couch too, eventually resting his head in your lap, and you put in your typical ramen order on your phone before vi picks a movie you'd both wanted to watch and had missed in theaters. she gets up, eventually, to open a bottle of wine for you and grab a beer for herself, and to put a new log on and then stoke the fire, before curling back up into your side.

'you know, i've thought about his name.'

'yeah?'

'jinx has come up with, like, seven thousand nicknames, some of which he responds to because she feeds him cheese all the time.'

vi rolls her eyes, but you laugh.

'but, you know. the weight of the world, and all that.'

'like i said, you in dog form.'

vi shakes her head but it becomes common occurrence, as the weeks and months and years go on, to come home to her after a shift, held down by altas, happily resting with her: a peace that's hard-found and even harder-earned, a companion for it all.

[holyblonded]

Hello admin, can I request jana and estrella hcs please

Your fics are literally a life saver. I had four exams in six days and reading estrella fics made me keep going. The exam is over now so I will be rereading everything again.

— jana and estrella’s dynamic is like a quiet storm. the two have known each other since their academy days and jana was a bit on the quieter side while estrella is always a little more fiery. but when they’re together, there’s an unspoken understanding that makes them practically inseparable.

— estrella loves to mess with jana, especially when she’s trying to focus. she’ll make random noises or throw little distractions, which always gets a snarky response from jana. estrella finds it hilarious, especially when jana tries to act all serious.

— jana enjoys sitting in a quiet spot with estrella, letting the world go by while they talk about everything and nothing. they’re both the type to get lost in conversation for hours without realizing it.

— estrella absolutely teases jana about being the “mom” of the young group, especially when she starts organizing everyone and making sure everything’s in place. “you’re just one checklist away from being a mother of seven,” estrella jokes.

— whenever they have a group outing, jana and estrella end up in their own little world, wandering off to find the best food spots or avoiding the big group dynamics. they’ve learned that sometimes, the best moments are the ones where it’s just the two of them.

— estrella makes fun of jana for her serious approach to everything. jana always planning out the tiniest details, whereas estrella’s the type to just go with the flow. but when things go wrong, estrella secretly admires how jana stays so composed.

— jana once tried to make estrella do a yoga session to “relax.” estrella was having none of it, complaining the entire time. but when jana wasn’t looking, estrella definitely stole a few deep breaths and kinda got into it.

[monster-disaster]

[succubus] Nara + sleepover

succubus!Nara x human!Reader Good to know: no warnings

Previously: [monsters] New Year's resolution [succubus] Nara [succubus] Nara +1

Summary: Sleepover; pizza, face masks, bad movies.

It’s almost ridiculous how excited you are. No. Scratch that. It is ridiculous.

You stand in the middle of your flat, your heart racing as your gaze darts nervously between the living room you've worked tirelessly all day and the succubus standing beside you. Your teeth dig into the soft, already too-sensitive flesh of your bottom lip as you try to see your home through her eyes. It's mismatched and old, but comfortable and yours.

“Well,” Nara says after a brief pause, “you’ve certainly been busy.”

You open your mouth to protest but quickly think better of it. “No-” You hesitate, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, yes.”

She is right.

From the moment you woke up, you’ve been in overdrive. After a quick trip to the little store just a few blocks away, you spent hours cleaning and scrubbing, and after hours of rearranging furniture, fluffing pillows, and preparing for tonight, you’d moved to the kitchen to tackle the pizza dough. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Nara was already at your door.

Now, your flat looks like a mess. A deliberate mess. The couch, pulled out into a makeshift bed, is practically drowning in a sea of pillows and blankets. Your kitchen just a few steps away is no better either. Its counters are crowded with snacks, drinks, and a few impulsive extras you picked up just in case. You weren’t sure what Nara would like, so you bought a little bit of everything. A rainbow of bags, boxes, and bottles clutter the surface, pushed aside only enough to leave space for the dough you’d worked on earlier.

“You told me you’ve never had a sleepover before,” you say, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks at the confession. “I just wanted to give you a good first experience.”

Nara’s gaze softens. The playful smirk on her lips fades into something tender, and then, she leans in to press a light, grateful kiss to your lips.

“I love it, Y/N,” she murmurs,

Your body reacts instantly. The tension you’d been carrying all day melts away, leaving your shoulders loose and your chest light. The anxious knot in your stomach dissolves, replaced by a simple, giddy excitement.

“Good,” you say with a nod, feeling much steadier now. “I’m glad.”

“But you have to calm down,” Nara adds gently. “You are going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep this up.”

You grimace at the truth of her words. “I know,” you mutter.

It’s one of those flaws you’ve always been painfully aware of; the relentless need to obsess over every little detail. This sleepover was supposed to be a chance for you to loosen up, to focus on making memories rather than everything being perfect. But as usual, your brain didn’t get the memo. The spiral is so familiar that you don't even notice it anymore when you fall into it. You focus too hard, dig too deep, and lose sight of the bigger picture.

Back in school, your parents or friends had to physically drag you out of your room because you would lose yourself in your textbooks during exam seasons. You’d skip meals, stay hunched over your desk for hours, and only realize how exhausted you were when someone forced a break on you. And adulthood hadn’t been much kinder either. Job interviews, doctor’s appointments, and even something as simple as meeting up with friends could turn into a mental battlefield. It’s gotten better with time, breathing exercises, and checklists, but moments like this remind you how easy it is to fall back into old patterns.

And tonight? Tonight had been one of those times.

Nara watches you for a second, and then, her hand brushes against yours, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Hey,” she says gently.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to loosen up even more. “Do you want something to drink?” you ask. “I bought, well, basically everything.”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. For the first time since you’ve met her, she looks… shy. Almost bashful. “And I… I brought a few things, too,” she admits. “I didn’t know what to bring. Google said…” She trails off, her usual confidence faltering in a way that is both surprising and oddly endearing. The sight makes your heart swell, and unable to resist, you close the small gap between you and lean in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Her rambling halts instantly, and when you pull back, her wide-eyed surprise quickly shifts into something more amused.

“You are so cute,” you say with a huge grin.

The succubus groans, rolling her eyes even as a smile starts to tug at her lips. She tries to suppress it, but you can tell she is losing the battle. “Shut up.”

“Never,” you tease, laughing softly as you take her bag and place it on the counter. “Now, let’s see what Google thinks you should bring to a sleepover.”

“Keep talking, and I’ll drink all the wine I brought,” she threatens, though her voice is more laughter than malice.

It feels like you’ve stepped back in time to the days when you and your friends had endless hours to spare. Back when every weekend was spent sprawled on someone’s couch, surrounded by snacks, laughter, and the kind of carefree energy that only comes with youth and too much free time.

Nara slips into the rhythm of things effortlessly, like she’s been here a hundred times before.

Soon, the air is filled with the warm aroma of freshly baked pizza and the tangy sweetness of tomato sauce. The two of you sit side by side on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows, while the TV casts a soft, flickering glow over the room, playing a movie neither of you has seen before.

Your faces are covered in a cooling green face mask Nara had spotted while rummaging through your bathroom earlier and insisted on giving it a try. Now, every time you glance at her, you can’t help but chuckle.

“You are laughing at me again,” she says, her tone playful as she nudges your arm with her elbow.

“I can’t help it,” you reply, grinning as you gesture toward her face. “You look like an evil swamp queen.” Her pastel purple skin peaks out here and there underneath the mask, and her black hair is piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, tangled with her horns.

“Better than you,” she quips, smirking. “You look like a stressed-out avocado.”

The two of you burst into laughter, nearly spilling the bowls of popcorn balanced between you. Its buttery scent mingles with the pizza.

“You know,” Nara says after a while. “I could get used to this.”

You glance at her, feeling a flicker of pride at her words. The way she looks so at ease, with her legs tucked under a blanket and her eyes soft with contentment, makes all your earlier fretting feel worth it.

“Yeah?” you ask. “I'm glad.”

You’ve been going to the gym for weeks now, and somewhere between the reps and stretches, you found yourself slipping into a comfortable friendship with your trainers, especially with Nara. Her confidence and charm were magnetic, and soon enough, you were both meeting for coffee after workouts, grabbing lunch, or doing a bit of shopping together.

That’s how you both ended up here now.

One evening, Nara had confessed that she’d never had a sleepover before. Not once. Not because she didn’t want to, but because, as a succubus, there were always judgments and expectations that others placed on her. People assumed things she didn’t want to live up to, things that clouded the possibility of something simple like spending a night at a friend’s house.

You could sense the weight of her words, the vulnerability behind them, and you knew at that moment that you wanted to change it. It’s not about anything other than the friendship you’ve built. Of course, you enjoy each other in ways that go beyond friendship, but tonight is about just being together without labels or expectations.

“The guy knows shit about acting,” Nara mutters under her breath, her eyes narrowed at the TV screen.

“He has a pretty face, but no talent,” you agree. “I can't decide if the movie is bad because of him or if it would be bad anyway.”

Nara doesn’t miss a beat. “It would be bad anyway,” she says with a dry smirk. “I mean, did you hear the explanation of their time travel? It makes absolutely no sense.”

“Honestly, I think the only good part of this movie is the popcorn,” you joke, reaching for another handful from the bowl between you.

Nara turns to look at you with a playful glint in her eyes. “And the company,” she grins.

And honestly, it’s not just about the succubus. You need her friendship as much as she needs yours.

Over the years, life happened, and before you knew it, you found yourself more alone than you had ever imagined. Your friends got married, moved away, or started families of their own. And you? You became too comfortable in your little bubble with your own space, your routine, your quiet life. At first, it was easy. You didn’t mind the solitude; it felt safe and comforting, but gradually, you realized it had become something else. The isolation wasn’t deliberate, but it crept in slowly. You didn’t mind staying in, reading, binge-watching shows, enjoying your own company, but eventually, you began to feel the absence of the laughter and connection you once had with friends.

Your first step to break out of that bubble was joining the gym at the beginning of the year. It was a small thing, but it felt like a giant leap.

And now, with Nara, you don't have to force yourself to socialize. You don't have to psych yourself up, or at least not as much. She makes it easy without pushing you too much.

Your gaze lingers on the TV, your attention drifting in and out as the plot continues to make no sense whatsoever, when you suddenly feel Nara’s burning attention on the side of your face.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, glancing over at her. The mischievous glint in her eyes is unmistakable.

“So,” she begins, unable to contain the grin spreading across her lips. “How is your sex book?”

You groan and collapse backward into the pile of pillows behind you, feeling the warmth of embarrassment creep up your neck. “It’s not a sex book!” you protest.

“Are you sure?” she presses, her voice full of teasing amusement. “Shame,” she hums, clearly delighted by your discomfort. “Decar wants to borrow it.”

Your eyes snap to hers in alarm. “You told them about it?”

“Why are you upset if it’s not a sex book?” she retorts, leaning back against the couch.

You sit up abruptly, your face flushed with embarrassment. “You know what?” you exclaim, raising your finger in mock authority. “No more wine for you!”

Nara gasps dramatically, her hand placed over her chest in exaggerated offense. “Cruel woman!”

You can't help but laugh, and you can't help but feel grateful for the succubus stepping into your life.

[bl00dylips]

hello ✮

I've been a bit sad because I'm taking way more time than neurotipical people to finish my degree, between my adhd and mental health struggles my uni career has been quite slow which tends to demotivate me.

To counteract this I've been watching millie lao's yt videos, she's a student at Yale and makes uni life seem so fun and light. I put her videos in the background and it feels like studying with a friend which keeps me in check 🌀

Rn I'm studying linguistics which is one of the most difficult exams I still have to do, so on one side I truly want to lock in to get it off my checklist!

adhd tips of the day:

✮ if it doesn't distract you, put on a studying video on yt for background noise and to keep that part of the brain that wants to wander around focused on the academic vibe

✮ use a nice sentence candle, this might sound stupid but smells keep the mind interested and soothed (in the pic you can see the chocolate scented one I love)

Q: how do you keep your concentration up?

[rohannsharma13]

What You Need for a Smooth PTE Exam Experience On the day of your PTE exam, make sure you have all the necessary documents, items, and preparation. It's also important to familiarize yourself with the PTE marks distribution to ensure you allocate enough time for each section.

[bellewintersroe]

Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC

Margaret ‘Maggie’ Emerson, an army nurse attached to the 506th parachute infantry regiment, finds herself growing closer to her company’s captain, Ronald Speirs. With war drawing to an end, a side to the mystery that is Captain Speirs is revealed. Both Maggie and Ron have a difficult time resisting their attraction to one another.

This is the third part to this mini-series, here’s the link to part 2 where you can find the first piece also linked. This chapter is gonna be a cliche nurse has to do a physical exam of the soldier she has the hots for lmao- no warnings, just some swearing and mild sexual tension.

“More, switch lines with me.” Speirs head was tilted, looking towards the door ahead of him.

“Sorry, sir?” More frowned. Speirs held out a pack of cigarettes and More gladly accepted, swapping places with him in the line with no further questions asked. The Captain smirked to himself proudly as the door opened, revealing Sergeant Alley walking out with Maggie swiftly behind.

“Thanks, Mag’s.” Alley teased causing some of the men to jeer and tease. Maggie rolled her eyes, giving Alley a playful kick to the back of his leg before calling out a polite, “next.”

Ron stepped forwards and her lips immediately tugged up in a smile she couldn’t quite bite back. “Captain Speirs, sir, how are you?” The door closed behind them both. From the outside, Luz watched on, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself, stunned at the exchange. “Hey, Babe, you see that? Speirs swapping lines with More to get into Maggie’s?” George nudged at the man beside him.

“Oh yeah? Didnt think we’d see the day Captain Speirs was chasin’ a broad…” Babe snickered.

On the inside, Maggie double checked the door was shut before heading towards the check board to write down Speirs’ name and tick him off the checklist. She’s been doing physical exams all morning, blood tests, checking their skin, weight, height. Maggie thought she was growing bored until Captain Speirs walked in.

“Would you take your shirt off for me, real quick?” She muttered, without thinking too much. Ron sat in the chair, removing his tie and moving his hands to unbutton the shirt. “I gotta just get a few measurements from you before I do the blood test and X-ray, that alright?” Maggie turned around, digging her pen a little too hard into the paper when she saw him unbuttoning his shirt.

“Yeah.” He casually nodded, as she pursed her lips, averting her eyes, before remembering she had to take his blood pressure. Spinning around again she retreated the device, stethoscope also around her neck. Her face was flustered and she dared to look up to him when his shirt was completely discarded. Maggie had been around shirtless men all day, it didn’t discompose her until now.

Ron’s gazed followed her tensely, swallowing and tensing his jaw when she took a seat in front of him. Her hair was longer than Ron realised, blonder than the other nurses, curls that weren’t pinned back hanging loosely. He didn’t even care that she was probably breaking every uniform rule, he was too enthralled by her.

“I’ll take your blood pressure first, sir.” He held out an arm as she shuffled a little closer, wrapping the material around his bicep. His muscles were protruding, as were his veins. If Maggie felt like melting just from the sight of his arm then she was curious as to how she reacted from seeing the rest of his seemingly, very toned, body.

“Get the boring stuff out of the way.” She giggled, glancing up to him. “Taking bloods fun?!” Her head snapped up again, pausing her actions. “It is when they faint.” Shrugging, she continued wrapping the strap around his arm before pumping to tighten the machine and read his blood pressure.

“Who fainted?” He questioned, a slight smirk covering his face. “You wanna know?!” Her smile turned into a devious grin as his teeth dug into his bottom lip, nodding. “Well it’s confidential.” She borderline teased, Speirs felt his stomach tighten as he unconsciously leant a bit closer. Maggie noticed and stole another glance over his face. He was even more handsome close up…

“Secrets safe with me.” He played along, eyelids heavy as they met hers. For a second her lips were parted and straight, captivated in the way he was looking at her, the way he spoke- and that was totally unprofessional. Maggie sat up straighter before her lips stretched into a smile again, shaking off the urge to lean closer into him. Ron wondered if all her exams were like this, or if it was just for him.

“I’ll let you guess, sir.” Ron cleared his throat, pursing his lips and looking around to distract himself elsewhere. Maggie scribbled down his blood pressure, “blood pressures good.” She then commented as he quickly snapped back to her, remembering what she’d said before.

“Liebgott. Acts tough but screams at the sight of needles.” He quickly commented, resulting in her laughing a little harder now. “No not Liebgott, stand up for me, Ron.” The name slipped as he smiled to himself. Maggie pulled the stethoscope into her ears and stepped around him so she was directly ahead of him. God, he was muscular. Trim from the physical demand of war, but he was undeniably attractive. Maggie’s tongue pushed to the inside of her cheek, tilting her chin up to look up to him before she pressed the devise up to the left of his chest.

“Sorry it’s cold.” She whispered as Ron felt his breath hitch, heart rate immediately speeding. “Talbert then.”

“Didnt faint, but he nearly threw up.” Maggie muttered, listening to his heart. Ron chuckled as they shared a smile. “Your hearts going so fast.” It fell out of her mouth as he took a deep breath. “I wonder why?” His eyes gazed over her, causing her own pulse to accelerate. The tension was too much, they were so both openly showing their attraction to one another, Maggie thought she might faint if she swooned any harder.

“Take a deep breath for me, sir.” She then instructed, listening carefully. Everything sounded perfect as she listened once on his chest and again on his back- that was also incredibly muscular.

She stood on a literal stool chair in order to reach and measure his height perfectly, Ron’s head tilted up in amusement before she nudged his jaw so he was looking straight. “I’ve been doing this all day.” She reminded, scribbling some more notes down, taking his weight and then doing an x-Ray, hands adjusting his arms in the right position.

“What time do you get off later?” Ron questioned, whilst he was stood in the machine. “You have to ask me that now when I need you to be still?” She gazed up to him. “Would you rather me ask when I’m taking your blood?”

“Preferably not, no.” She smiled to herself, heading over and pushing his arms a little further back so she could get a better view of everything to send to the surgeons to check everything was okay.

“Keep your back straight, alright?” Her warm hands touched slightly the mid of his back nudging him a little more upright. “Alright.” Ron spared her another glance.

“Hold still a second.” A moment later the X-ray was taken. “4.” She then answered, Ron looked at her in a little confusion.

“You can take a seat again- and 4. You asked me what time I get off at?” Again, she felt a little shy, fumbling for the tourniquet and slowly dragging over the tray with everything laid out on. Ron smiled, feeling the words ready to spill off his lips. He knew he shouldn’t, but he so desperately wanted to completely break professionalism and ask her out. He saw how happy all those other men looked to be in her line, he could bet they’d try anything on with her now the war in Europe was over.

“Oh yeah.” Ron muttered to himself as she tightened it over his bicep. “Clench your fist for me.” She muttered, wondering what the question was for. His veins were already popping, she slapped on his skin slightly before returning to get a clear pair of gloves.

It was silent for a minute or so. Not awkward, just a little tense, the unspoken words making the two of them nervous. “Sharp scratch, you okay with needles?” She muttered. Ron gulped, tense at her presence, not the needle. “Okay.” Her whispered tone made him shiver as he watched her prick the inside of his vein, never being one to bother about injections or needles. Ron inhaled, looking up and her head snapped up, making sure he was okay.

“You okay?”

“Go out with me later.” The words on his lips were finally spoken, he blinked back to her, seeing her breath catch in her throat before she turned back to the vial and needle with a slight amusement.

“You’re asking me whilst I’m taking your blood?” She watched it fill up, looking like a freak as she smiled to herself uncontrollably. “Yeah.” His voice cracked, raspy from overuse.

“Okay.” She nodded, not really having to think twice about it. Ron had to tense his jaw to avoid smiling too much. “Great, I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Where are we going?” She removed the needle gently, dealing with that before disposing of everything she didn’t need and scribbling down everything she needed to, trying her hardest to focus on everything but the fact Captain Speirs had just asked her out.

“There’s a bar in town- don’t ask me to pronounce it.” Now she looked back to him, a smile reaching her eyes and nodding. “8 is good, I’ll see you then.”

“Good.” He gently spoke, looking back to her with a smile. Maggie hadn’t seen Speirs smile this much before. “You can put your shirt back on now, Ron.”

“Oh, right.” God, Ron had Maggie smiling like a lovesick teenager, even when he’d left and the next person, Malarkey had come in, Maggie was grinning like a goddamn child.

“Captain Speirs got you smilin’ like that?!”

[bitsofshanshine]

2025 Student Planner Notion Template: Your Ultimate All-in-one Study Hub

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Tasks & Assignments Page — Keep all of your tasks checklist in one place. Plan, prioritize, and track assignments and tasks with ease to stay on top of your deadlines.

Habits Tracker — Cultivate good habits and monitor your progress daily. Whether it’s studying, exercising, or self-care, track it all in one simple space.

Goal Tracker — Set and smash your goals! Whether academic or personal, this tracker keeps you motivated and focused on achieving what matters most.

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[leslie057]

penbleed;

pairings: jonathan/nancy

rating: light teen (swearing + mild sex references)

word count: 2.4k (chapter 1)

read on ao3

@jancyweeks day 1: history - her diary as a personal history + a bonus history test incident

𝒩𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 16, 1984

—

𝑀𝓎 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑜𝓌. Actually, how do you forget an exam? Actually. How did I forget? And it’s not even that I forgot, it’s that I never knew. I am still so mad but not as mad as I was. Genuinely have no clue why we were not given verbal reminders for that history test. That stupid little secret of a test, that fucking sub rosa fucking social experiment of a thing to see who looks at her minuscule writing under the date on the board every day! Just tell us. Need it. Out loud. This is crazy arrogant and borderline disgusting of me to say, but she doesn't have a better student than me and I deserved better. It was like a setup. Of course I was taking notes, of course I was listening, of course a lot of it was prior knowledge. It’s the history of America and I’m not an idiot. I just thought a test would be coming up after the break, not before.

I mean it’s all been worked out now, though. 

But it makes me upset, because where was my head? No, I know where it was, my head was here with me. I was simply using it for its escape function. Wild how my ears can be turned on, and my pen will be going and going and going in perfect time with the lesson, but mentally I’m reliving whatever I want to relive. Or don’t want to relive. I’ve been like this since last year. Stuck inside my skull and cannot climb out. Don’t wanna climb out because sometimes I need to be there, it’s nice in there. Sometimes not nice. I brought this up to Jonathan, he said yes he does understand. Shocker. The difference is he’s been in his head for the last sixteen years, and he doesn’t continually think all the awful things that I think. He’s good and decent and he’s sweet and he’s built a strange, adorable habitat up there for song lyrics and checklists and worries. He does so much in one day. I don’t love his work schedule. Working on Friday nights, God. Then at home he does, like, budgeting and reads their bills and shit? I wouldn’t have time to steep in hate for Mrs. Kincannon, either. (He doesn’t hate her. That’s me.) Not that he’s dealing with his trauma or whatever, our trauma, I don’t know, he isn’t. Still, because his many responsibilities burn up the majority of his mental energy, he doesn’t seem to follow the spirals I follow. At least not when the sun's out. He’s a dramatic pessimist, my dramatic pessimist, oh that was fun to write, but I would assume his internal voice has more of a filter mechanism than mine. Could be a self-preservation thing. 

Who knows. But, yeah, neurogymnastics. Neurogymnastics to get me through my day. Each week is a series of extreme highs and extreme lows, lows that I just administer my fantasies to until something new happens. It’s good in the moment. Later I realize that I’ve missed things, spaced out, fell short, and I get all guilty. I feel hypocritical. I’ve fought for my life, why am I not training myself to live it well again. I’m rushing through things because they’re hard. I want to be successful, and this is not the path to success. The pressure is off me and yet all over me. Maybe I shouldn’t care about school, knowing what I know about the flimsiness of this dimension’s edges. Sounds clinically insane. Not ever going to be sure what to do with the fact that I’ve seen a parallel plane, that I was really there. I wish I didn’t care about school. I do care less about it than I did freshman and sophomore year. My grades are forever important to me, but there’s currently a big disconnect between my habits and my academic goals. When I’m at school, I fantasize about it being over. When I’ve set aside time to work, I can’t get through it and I go to my boyfriend. Maybe I am a bad student. Right now. I am. Hard to care about history since I’ve got a lot I would rather focus on. So, right, there are a lot of coercive acts I could be learning about if my teacher calmed down and gave me free time to coerce him. Sorry. 

I cannot stop thinking about what I was able to 

How he knew about the test is beyond me. He’s missed more days, he’s had more distractions, he’s more susceptible to distractions, and to top everything off he’s on possession watch. You know, just making those frequent check-ins with Will. I don’t know what that would look like. I guess you just ask him how he’s feeling, try to gauge the honesty. I would never ever say this but it seems likely to me that Will is still being…communicated with. Accessed. Scary sounds in his ears or something. Sensations. It’s not like he’d say anything! He’s like this meek little mouse, he could actively be experiencing organ rupture and wouldn’t make a sound. This is terrible, but being at their house does scare me every now and then. In a ticking time bomb sort of way. Is their family not kind of cursed? Then I get kissed and forget where I am anyway, so nothing matters. No complaints overall, it is a very nice place for a slumber party. 

My reaction last night was the most embarrassing. How I went from zero to a hundred that fast, how we went from squeaky bed springs and my proposed hickey competition (hate that this is in writing now, but context needed—also I was in a competitive mood yesterday) (he was not) to me whining and crying and essentially hyperventilating because I didn’t understand why he would mention a test when we didn’t have a test. I hate my emotions being played with and all of that bullshit. For some reason I’ve always been on the receiving end of that haven’t I? With boys in our class. Middle school, junior high, that kind of timeframe. At one point I could have convinced myself I was being flirted with. It’s a no, because “all statements.” All pines are conifers, but not all conifers are pines. So all interested boys will tease, but not all the boys that tease are interested. They really were just that eager to let me know my body wasn’t up to par for our age bracket. Pal, are we not eleven and twelve. I cannot be Catwoman for you.

I’m told I’m pretty now, so I’ll count it as a win. 

Anyway, Jonathan was not playing with my emotions, and we did have a test. We did. When my panic set in, it was bad. The pressure was building up in my chest, I thought I was in danger of dry drowning. My GPA is literally the only thing I ever feel in control of. In my arms were two options, have an absolutely miserable fucking Thursday night or risk baby’s first F on her transcript. But then he just looked at me, calm as ever, and said, “Why can’t you ask for an extension? I want you to ask her for an extension, okay?” Which I should have come up with on my own. I don’t know why, but hearing him say that was like. Insane. Made everything feel lighter, light as a feather. He doesn’t do this for himself, but for me—he zooms out, he figures out a way to make things less daunting. He can be so positive when it's a problem of mine on the table instead of his, and I'm like who are you, I love you. I usually have no problem cheating systems, swinging things in a way that's better for me, but requesting an extension? My pride lies in academics, I'm aware of that, I don’t often ask for help there. Want to accomplish things without accommodations being made for me. Meanwhile, school stuff is some of the only stuff Jonathan is willing to seek out help with. He has to. He can't afford to not get help. Not like he can spend an entire evening on one little section of an assignment when he needs to be clocked in at work for five hours. In conclusion, he talks to our instructors more than our peers. I have to respect a teacher's pet.

So, I took his advice. However tricky extensions may be. Kincannon is also tricky. Her iron will and everything. You’re not gonna get one if you always ask. You’re not gonna get one if you haven’t already established yourself as a trustworthy kid. You’re not gonna get one for being an athlete. I wasn’t convinced of the plan at first since she dress coded my mid-thigh skirt last week and had to tell me, on a few occasions, to stop chatting with/distracting my boyfriend. Him being in the picture was so in my favor, though, because he seriously might be her favorite. Personally I wanna say it’s gross; it makes her feel good about herself to cosset sensitive, troubled teens that she wouldn’t give a shit about otherwise. Like, you’re not his mommy, but I’m way off topic. 

We got up incredibly early this morning. We made her a tiny consolation coffee with cream and cinnamon, pulled up at 6:25 I want to say it was? And the conversation was ace. He had messed up my hair a little to hint at a sleepless night, coached me on how to look pitiful when we were in the car. I really hope I didn’t mishear him mumble something about puppy eyes. He was very tired. I stayed as honest as possible, that’s what he wanted from me. I told her I was having a rough time, that grief keeps getting in my way of things. I talked to her about my selective hearing issue. I said I’m an oral learner, I needed verbal reminders, and I said school means so much to me. Hesitantly I pointed out that Jonathan and I are still getting used to our new relationship, and maybe if our assigned seats were adjacent I wouldn't have to get up to talk to him. She was slightly passive-aggressive, but she was understanding. Then I found out I would be testing Monday. New test, just for me. There was something so ridiculous and fun about sitting in class this morning, reading while everyone else suffered. After, I couldn’t stop apologizing to Jonathan for freaking out. He said I didn’t freak out, I reacted, and he suggested I go easier on myself. That distinction felt huge, really huge. 

Right now, I'm desperate to preserve that feeling of lightness, but I’m mad at myself and furious in general. In hindsight I should have savored being comforted a little more, but I was busy having half a meltdown. I’m sure I’ll get to hear one of those soft pep talks the next time something doesn’t go my way. I have so much studying to do, especially since my Special Nancy Test is all writing. I’ve got it, though. I’m fine. Angry but also happy and fine. This will never happen again. I won’t let it happen again.

—

“Uh oh,” Jonathan suddenly murmurs to himself on her bed. 

She swivels at her small desk, not fully ready to turn her attention away from her entry. “Hmm?”

“Sorry, no, you can keep writing.” 

“But why uh oh?”

There's his gentle huff, his eyes flicking upward in annoyance. He holds a necklace she'd tasked him with untangling using tweezers. Its old, delicate chain was in no less than six billion knots. Somehow he’s the only one in the world who has the patience for this. She sure as hell doesn't have the patience for it. "I'm scared I'm about to break it." 

“Break it? Please don’t Jonathan,” she begs on impulse.

“It’s just really far gone. I’m trying.”

And he is. He’s been sitting quietly for as long as she’s been writing. So—long time. She sort of forgot about him over there. “Sorry, I know, I know you are," she says.

He’s silent. 

“You’ve been cleaning up a lot of my messes lately, huh?”

She flips over her journal, nudges it away from the table’s edge, and approaches him. From her desk she couldn’t see the glow of afternoon sunlight streaming onto her quilt. Very pretty. Her personal jewelry surgeon sits there in the middle, equally pretty, possibly feeling neglected. He’s gone the full nine yards here. Pushed up his sweater sleeves, swiped her reading glasses, set out a few safety pins and needles as his supplementary tools. He looks sleepy, the brown of his eyes lighter in the path of the sun. 

Her arms are behind her back until they’re not, and she crawls on top of him. He absently places the necklace on her flattest throw pillow. 

“I said you’re fixing a lot of my messes.”

“I mean…not really.” He’s blushing already, hands awkwardly grasping for purchase at her hips so that he won't get pressed back too hard into the poles of her bed frame's headboard. “If I am, I don’t mind.”

Her lips cushion against this little spot on his jaw that’s so sensitive it kills him, sucking carefully. The action might have the same effect on her that it does him; her heart jumps, swings wide, threatens to capsize in the wet of her chest. It’s that familiar adrenaline response, the uncontrollable energy spike she always gets alongside the realization of oh, we’re touching! She sighs into his skin, and he shudders, a pathetic sound of bliss escaping his throat.

“Okay, well don't start drooling,” she quips. Kisses his pulse point, spittily.

He mumbles something unintelligible, so she keeps on keeping on, shifting her weight back and forth, trying to make the most of the time they have and get some good play in while she can. She’ll have to kick him out soon. She’ll have to study in complete isolation. She dips back, and he follows, she leans forward, and he pulls her closer. “Said I need an extension,” he manages, repeating what she didn’t catch.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna do all this, I need an extension on my necklace project.”

Well, that is definitely going in the diary. 

[romanticisingashislife]

we going ALLL INNNN with this one!!!

D-1 of putting in ALL I HAVE

DUDE I KINDA LIKE MATHS?????? LIKE NOW WHEN I REMOVED EVERYYYY SOCIAL MEDIA I CAN ACTUALLY SEE WHY PEOPLE LIKE IT CUZ DAMN BAEEE THE CONFIDENCE U GET AFTER SOLVING EACH AND EVERY QUESTION?? uffffffffff

we are sooo back

also omg now that i have taken a gap year i cant waitttttttttt to get into a good college like imagine IT WOULD BE SOOO FUN YEEEYYYYYYY

plus im fixing my eep schedule again lol :p imma sleep from 10 am to 4 am, why? JUS SO I CAN TELL EVERYONE YK WHEN I SLAY THIS EXAM I NEED TO BOAST TOO YK PLUS OMG THE SIMPLE MOTIVATION OF WAKING UP EARLY IS SOOOOOOOOOO GJFDJGFDGF :p

so for today my checklist is-

Limits - lecture 07, 08 , 09, 10

Mode of differentiation - lecture 01, 02

Semiconductors + Modern Physics complete ( reading from hcv +pyqs + cyqs + most imp sbt)

DnF, Coordinate daily read

P-block - Lecture 04 , 05

ORM - 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25

End the day with revision

(if anyone has any tips on how to cover online lecs fast PLEASE HELP UR GIRLIE OUT 😭🙏)

[amberlynnmurdock]

The Good In You (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Chapter Summary: Dex grows fond of the nurse down the hall, so much so that if someone says something disrespectful about her, he won't take it so well.

Genres/Warnings: men objectifying women, toxic masculinity, angst, light fluff if you squint your eyes

Words: 5k exactly!

Tags: @danzer8705 @reblog-reblog666 @pcrushinnerd

Ao3 Link

Strange weather misted over the building of the Bureau, giving it an ominous look. She walked up the steps to the building and uttered “good morning” to whoever she walked past. She breathed a sigh of relief once she was in the elevator surrounded by other FBI staff members. The elevator dinged and lifted them to their floor. 

The office was slowly filling up with agents and staff who were treading in from the weekend. She made her way to the exam room and relaxed once she shut the door. Opening the locker that was tucked in the corner of the room, she brushed her hair and fixed what was messed up from the rain. It didn’t matter though—she’d have to put it up in a clip anyway. 

Working for the FBI was much more peaceful than working at the hospital. She enjoyed the privacy she had in her room and she liked the relationships she’d built with the agents here. She sat at her desk and went through her morning checklist before realizing thirty minutes had passed and she hadn’t had a cup of coffee yet. 

The break room was a little farther down the hall on the left. On her way down, she brushed passed other agents and found the door to Hattley’s office open, inviting her to say hello. 

“Morning, Tammy,” she greeted in the door frame. Hattley already had multiple files open on her desk. She was highlighting and tabbing different documents, standing over them. Her red hair was done in a low bun. “Already planning out the week for the agents?” She asked. 

Hattley laughed and shook her head. “Sure am, __. How was your weekend?”

“Relaxing, but ended too quickly. You?”

“Had my daughter’s cheerleading competition Saturday and then spent all of Sunday preparing for today,” Hattley said, not making eye contact with her. 

“You’ll need me on-call this whole week with the amount of files you’ve got there?” She asked Hattley. 

“Definitely,” finally, Hattley makes eye contact with her and smiles. “Just in case anything goes badly.”

“Of course,” she shrugged light-heartedly. Hattley returned to her work and she exited the room, continuing her way to the break room.

When she made a turn inside, she was pleasantly surprised to see Special Agent Poindexter scooping grounds of Bustelo into a new filter. Dex’s back was facing her, so she gently cleared her throat to make her presence known to him. 

“Morning, Dex,” she greeted quietly as she snuck up beside him at the counter. Dex paused his movements and turned to look at her. When he saw it was her, a smile slowly spread on his face. She was standing so close to him that she could see the depth of his hazel eyes when he looked at her. Of all the people in the office it could be, he was happy it was her this early in the morning. Dex was in a dark suit with a white button-down shirt. He looked undeniably handsome. He was out of uniform—this meant today was a training day for new agents.

“Good morning,” he greeted, continuing to scoop coffee. “Caught up on sleep this weekend like you wanted to?” She was mesmerized by the way his hands gently scooped the grounds of coffee and flicked it in the filter. Those same hands handled weapons she couldn’t imagine holding herself. 

She laughed, though, pleasantly surprised that he remembered their conversation from Friday night. 

“I did,” she answered with a nod, “but it’s never enough. You?"

“Same,” Dex nodded, putting one last scoop of coffee in the new filter. He placed the holder in the machine and switched the knob to turn on. The machine hummed and began to brew. Dex turned around and leaned his back on the counter. When he did this, she caught a whiff of his cologne—a musky, woodsy scent. She tried not to react to how good he smelt.

“It takes a little bit to brew if you don’t want to stay,” Dex said, his voice bringing her out of her thoughts. “I’ll bring you a cup to your office. How do you take it?” Dex offered. She shook her head—she didn’t mind making small talk with him and waiting for it to brew. 

“I can stay,” she smiled. “But you can still fix my coffee. I like it with a dash of milk.”

“You got it,” he smiled back. “You have a busy day today?”

“Not really,” she said. “I’ll be cleaning and filing the new agents we have in our system. Speaking of, are you training them today?” 

Dex cracked his neck and sighed. “Yeah, new agents. All day.”

“Be nice to them,” she smiled teasingly. “I bet they’re all scared.”

“If they’re scared of training then they probably shouldn’t have applied to be in the FBI,” Dex retorts with a smirk. “Besides, today’s easy. All presentations. Boring, but easy.”

“Well, I hope today goes quickly for us both,” she smiled, gently knocking her shoulder on his. Dex smiled and looked down, holding his left wrist with his right hand. 

Just as he’s about to say something else to her, another agent enters the room, and Dex tenses immediately. He wasn't fond of the agent who came in, ruining his moment with her. 

Her attention is drawn to Agent Beckett, who stands at six feet tall with dark brown hair, a five o’clock shadow, and a bright smile. It was hard not to be drawn to someone like him when he entered a room—he was handsome. Handsome, but slightly arrogant. Slightly intimidating. Not at all like the sweet agent who stood beside her, and offered to fix her a cup of coffee. 

“Morning, Poindexter,” Beckett greets loudly. “Glad to see you’re out of the cave this morning,” he bellowed. She jumped at the loudness in his voice and offered a small smile, trying to avoid eye contact. She stepped out of his way—away from Dex. 

“Morning,” Dex replied with a straight face. 

“Hey, __,” he called her name, an unavoidable greeting. “Is this guy bothering you?” He smirked, giving Dex a taunting wink. Dex’s jaw clenched and he kept his hands firmly in front of him, eyes forward. 

“No,” she laughed uncomfortably, feeling her heart beating fast. She glanced at Dex, who kept his stare straight ahead of him. 

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Beckett says, jimmying his way between her and Dex. “Ah, coffee’s almost done. Poindexter, why don’t you fix us both a cup ahead of this stupid training we have?”

Dex turns carefully, jaw clenched and silent. The coffee machine beeps and Dex grabs two cups from the cabinet. He pours coffee into each cup and grabs the carton of milk from the fridge, giving the perfect splash in the first cup before putting the milk back. He walks around Agent Beckett, careful not to bump into him, and gives her the cup of coffee. She takes it from his hands, feeling her fingers brush against Dex’s. Dex holds her eye contact for a few seconds and squints his eyes at her as a way to say here you go. 

“I’ll see you in there, Beckett,” Dex says before leaving the kitchen. Beckett stands there confused, empty-handed. He grabs a styrofoam cup and pours coffee into it. 

“Such a weird dude,” Beckett says under his breath. 

“What makes him weird?” She questioned him, annoyed with his attitude. 

“He only talks to three people here and is just a dick,” Beckett said. She flinched at his tone and shook her head, debating whether to say her next words or not. 

“Just because he takes his job seriously and keeps to himself doesn’t make him weird. Maybe you should learn something from him, Beckett,” she replies with a terse tone. Beckett raises an eyebrow and looks at her suspiciously. He sips his coffee, holding his stare on her. She leaves the room quickly, ignoring the increase in her heartbeat. She much preferred how she felt when Dex was in the room. 

Down the hall, she can see Dex making his way to the elevator, clipboard in one hand, coffee in the other. The elevator doors close before she can offer Dex a thank you. The cup he made was perfect. 

***

Dex hated socializing but he hated even more to be socializing against his will out of peer pressure with the other FBI agents. 

It was Thursday night. No one had tasks on Friday until noon and Agent Garcia had rounded everyone in the SWAT unit to get drinks at a local bar near the Bureau. Dex ignored the invite naturally—those things, such as invites, didn’t apply to him. But when Ray got off the phone with his wife (Sammy was on a camping trip meaning Ray was essentially free) Dex knew there was no hope in going home like he wanted to. 

So there he was, sitting in the corner of a dingy bar; cold beer in one hand, the other sitting on his thigh in anticipation. Anticipation for something to go wrong. Anticipation for this night to end. Dex watched as the FBI agents all hounded each other—arms around each other drunkenly, complaining about this week’s new agents and how they needed to get paid more. Dex looked at them with disdain. He couldn’t relate to any of them even if he wanted to. 

His mind wandered to the last few minutes of work when he got the chance to say goodbye to her.

“Headin’ out early?” Dex asked as he leaned in the doorway of her exam room. She was gathering her things and putting on her coat. Dex watched her carefully from afar, admiring the way she effortlessly made everything she did look so easy. 

“A rare occasion. Yes,” she smiled. “I heard a bunch of the agents are going out tonight. Are you joining them?”

“Unfortunately,” Dex sighed. “I’m only going for Ray. Show face.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” she reasoned, meeting him at her door. “Just don’t give me a reason to have to come back at midnight and I gotta stitch you up for getting in a bar fight.”

Dex laughed softly. “I would never.” 

Ray came back to his seat laughing, holding a new beer. His presence brought Dex out of his memory. Ray shook his head and looked at Dex. 

“These guys, man,” Ray uttered. “They’re lucky we’re all off the clock.”

“Yeah,” Dex said coolly, taking a sip of his beer. “Real lucky.”

“Why don’t you get in there and join them?” 

“I’m fine here,” Dex answered. 

“Make a little effort, Dex,” Ray urged. He knew he meant well, but Dex wished he’d stop pushing it. He sighed, feeling trapped in his corner. He watched as Beckett and other agents took shots of whiskey and slammed the glasses on the bar. 

“Who wants to play some darts?” Beckett asked the group. He made his way over to where Dex and Ray sat and slammed his hand on the table. Dex tensed and straightened in his seat. “Nadeem? You got skills with darts? I know you do.” 

“Oh, I don’t think so. Maybe Dex—he’s our sniper after all.” Ray pats Dex on the shoulder. If looks could kill, Ray would be on the floor. 

Beckett gives him a thoughtful look then looks at Dex. “Whaddaya say, Poindexter?”

“Not in the mood,” Dex said in a low voice, swiveling his beer around. 

“Come on, Poindexter. Have a little fun. Don’t be a pussy. You and Ray versus me and Garcia. Let’s go,” he urged Dex. Dex tried to hide the suspicion he felt but shrugged. 

Ray gives Dex an urging look, and finally, Dex cracks. 

“Okay,” Dex sighs, taking a sip of his beer. “You guys first.”

“All right,” Beckett nods. 

Ray pats Dex on the shoulder again and makes his way toward the dart boards. Dex pushes past people in the bar, the dingy air getting to his senses. The smoke from cigarettes in the bar burns his eyes and the smell of sticky alcohol coats the floor. He can feel his shoes sticking to it. Being in a place like this reminds Dex of a time he tried to socialize when he was younger—he’s gotten better at it over the years, but he hated how nothing really has changed about it. 

Dex finds a new table to place his beer at. He feels all eyes on him from the other agents, watching him like he’s some kind of circus act. Maybe they're not judging him, maybe it’s all in his head. He ignores their stares. At least that much he’s gotten better at.

Agent Garcia wrote the team names on the board as the other agents found their places to watch. The dart boards were tucked in a corner of the bar, away from most people, though some strangers lingered to watch the game. Ray brought over a bin of darts. 

“Choose your color.”

Dex quickly glanced at the bin and grabbed the first trio he saw. The barrel of the darts was navy blue, paired with a white shaft. The flight colors were black and white stripes. Ray opted for red and orange colored ones. 

Agent Beckett was first. He placed his left foot at a sideways angle and stepped forward with his right. He squinted his eyes. Dex watched with crossed arms. Beckett threw his dart forward and it landed on the 18th segment, triple ring. He threw twice more and hit the double ring at 6 and 10. His darts were purple and white. 

“Not bad,” Beckett said to himself. He marked the scoreboard and took his darts off the board. “You’re up, Garcia.”

Garcia got in the same position and threw his green and black darts all too fast, hitting double rings at 10, 15 and 2. Beckett booed him, along with the other agents as they all took another swig of beer. 

“You first,” Dex said in a low voice to Ray. 

Ray deflates. “Come on.”

“You made me come out. You’re going first,” Dex demanded. He won’t take no for an answer. Ray nodded his head in defeat and walked up to the mark. 

Ray’s about to throw his dart when Agent Beckett makes a fake moaning sound to throw him off. Ray stumbled and completely missed the board. Dex glared at Beckett. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Beckett raised his hands. “Fair is fair.”

Ray laughs anyway and throws his last two darts. Triple ring at 11 and 8. 

Ray marked the board and took his darts. He raised his eyebrows at Dex knowingly as Dex took his stance to throw. 

It’s almost too easy.

He hits the bull twice before making the bull’s eye on his last throw. He didn’t want any more attention than he already had so he purposefully missed the bull’s eye twice before ultimately choosing his pride—just to see the look on Beckett’s face. Dex smirked as he heard Ray cheer along with a few other agents. Beckett brooded in his seat like a spoiled child. 

“Bullseye!” Ray shouted, slamming the table with his hand. 

“Game is still on,” Beckett reminded everyone. “Let’s make it more interesting. Whoever’s up has to say who they would fuck in the office,” at this, a few agents started to laugh and pulled out their phones, obviously searching on social media their co-workers. Dex shook his head and pinched his nose. “Come on, we’re off the clock. What happens out here stays out here. It doesn’t make it back to the office. Nobody’s going to tell on anybody. Not that the Bureau can afford to fire anyone anyway. Ray, you’re excused since you’re married—unless you want to play.”

Dex rolls his eyes as he faces the board and takes his darts out. He adds the score to the scoreboard and walks slowly back to the table. Beckett watches him carefully. Dex ignores him. 

Garcia’s up first. 

“The girl at the front desk in the building on the first floor,” he says. “I can’t remember her name, but her tits are perfect. I love that the desk is low so I can get a better look if she’s wearing a low-cut top. Or when she wears those zipper polos and I only see the shape. God,” he breathes out. He gets in position and throws each dart lazily. He doesn’t even care he misses, he just takes another sip of his beer. 

“Yeah, she’s cute,” Beckett agrees. “I don’t know. If I had to choose, how about that nurse we just got?” Beckett asks. “Poindexter, you know the one. Don’t you?” The tone of his voice is barbed. 

Dex grips his beer so tightly the glass might shatter in his hand at the mention of her. The mention of her coming out of Beckett’s mouth. Dex’s fingers twitch over his darts on the table, lining them up evenly. His jaw tightens as he watches Beckett get into position. Dex leans on the wall and feels his muscles tense. 

“Yeah,” Dex says coolly. “I know her.”

Beckett throws his first dart. He hits the triple ring at 1.

“She’s real pretty,” he states. “Quiet. But they say the quiet ones are always the freakiest.”

He throws his second dart. Dex grabs one of his darts and slowly moves away from the table, ignoring the nervous glances he receives from Ray. Beckett hits the triple ring on 16. 

“I think I’d like to fake an injury to get examined by her. Feel her hands all over my face. You know, she’s actually pretty feisty when you talk to her. Should’ve heard what she said when you left the break room the other day, Poindexter,” Beckett repositions himself. Dex loses his composure for a moment—he didn’t know of this. “I don’t like a girl who thinks she can talk to me a certain way. Yeah, I’d like to get in her exam room and shut her up with my cock in her mouth.”

At this, the other agents laugh and roar, holding their beer bottles up in the air. Beckett laughs with them and looks at Dex before he throws his final dart.

“Bet you’d like to do the same to her,” Beckett taunts. 

When Beckett’s dart lands, it lands on the bull. 

Dex breathes deeply. It wasn’t often Dex let his emotions get the best of him—that was something he learned from Dr. Mercer—to learn to control his emotions. Learn to control his rage. Since joining the army, and then joining the FBI, his work has helped him keep himself in check. He doesn’t take things personally. He remains calm in otherwise stressful situations. He tries not to react. He’s learned to calculate situations in his head. 

Those same sentiments apply to this very situation he’s in right now. He’s knowingly controlling his rage. When people have rage, most people see red. They feel hot. Not Dex. Dex sees black when he feels rage. He feels cold in his blood. 

And that’s why when Beckett goes up to the board after taunting Dex using her name like it was nothing, Dex decides to take his shot early. 

Dex throws the dart so fast before anyone can register what’s happening. As Beckett is walking towards the dartboard to get his darts, Dex’s shot flies right beside Beckett’s head, just purposefully missing him, but landing right on the bullseye. Beckett jumps back in startling realization that Dex's dart almost pinned his finger to the board. 

“What the hell?!” 

Beckett stalks over to Dex and pushes him with his chest against him. Rage is clearly all over Beckett, hot-headed anger coming Dex’s way. Dex stands still and braces himself. “What the fuck’s your problem, man?” 

“My problem is—“ Dex begins to say, but stops himself when he sees all the agents looking at them. Suddenly he hears her voice in the back of his head; she only made a joke about him getting into a bar fight, but Dex took it to heart. Ray stands from the table, anticipating both Dex and Beckett’s next move. Dex analyzes the situation quickly. He’s not in the mood for this—not tonight. He lets out a harsh breath—gives Beckett one last look of disdain, before walking outside the bar and into the cold night. 

Ray is right behind him. 

“What the hell was that?” Ray asks in exasperation, catching up to Dex who’s further down the street. Dex feels something heavy and hollow in his chest. 

“Dex!” Ray calls him, grabbing his shoulder. Dex shakes his hand off him and snaps at Ray.

“What Ray?” Dex snaps, daggers in his hazel eyes as he stares down Ray.  

“You could get in trouble for purposefully trying to hit him like that. What the hell were you thinking?!” 

“Like you said,” Dex said, eyes narrow, tucking his hands in his pockets. “We’re lucky we’re off the clock.”

“That’s different,” Ray says through gritted teeth. “You almost threw a dart in his hand.” 

“Beckett said himself that what happens outside stays outside. As far as I’m concerned, he didn’t move out of the way in time for me to take my shot. It was an accident.” 

“Jesus,” Ray utters under his breath, massages his temples. “Really hope this doesn’t make it back to Hattley.” 

“I don’t care if it does,” Dex shakes his head. “It was a game of darts. I didn’t want to come out, Ray,” Dex says in a low voice. “You made me. I wasn’t going to stand around there any longer and listen to them bullshit like that. Now they’ve got something else to talk about.”

Dex turns around and continues on his walk home, eyes forward, drowning out the noise of the city, the noise of the night. 

***

Dex doesn’t get to the Bureau until noon the next day. 

When he arrives, he scans his FBI badge at the door and walks into an otherwise normal setting at the office. People are at their desks, typing away and working on their tasks. Ray comes walking down the hall, looking more stressed to see Dex than happy. Dex isn’t worried about it. He isn’t even worried when Ray pulls him into an empty conference room to talk to him.

“Hattley’s going to call you in her office today,” Ray says in a hushed tone. “She caught wind of what happened last night.”

“And?” Dex questioned. “What exactly was it that happened other than you and me beating Beckett at a little game of darts?”

Ray shoots Dex a knowing look, disapproving of his otherwise lighthearted tone. The one time Dex chooses to be lighthearted, it’s a problem. 

“Not to Beckett,” Ray explained. “He went to her office earlier this morning.”

“So Beckett’s a tattle tale and sore loser,” Dex nodded. “Got it.”

“He feels threatened by you,” Ray told him.

“And how’s that my problem?”

“Because he’s trying to rally the other agents in getting him on his side.”

“And yet I’m still here. The problem isn’t me, Ray. It’s what he says about people in this office—it’s what he said about—“

“About __, I know,” Ray said. “I think Hattley’s going to talk to her as well.”

Dex squints his eyes, “does she know?”

“I don’t know,” Ray shook his head. “I can’t imagine Beckett would tell Hattley what lead up to the dart throwing.”

“This is ridiculous, Ray. What are they going to do? Tell me not to play darts anymore?”

“I don’t know—I just wanted you to be prepared for when she calls you.”

Dex sighs, and Ray leaves him there alone in the conference room. He exits and walks around the corner, almost bumping into someone. 

It’s her.

“Oh, hi Dex,” she stumbles, “I’m sorry. How are you?”

Dex raises his eyebrows, whatever hard expression he had on his face softening when he looked at her. “Hey—I’m good.” From the way she’s speaking, Dex doesn’t think she knows what happened.

“How was last night?” She asked.

“Not that fun, honestly.”

“Aw, that’s too bad.”

“Did you have a good night?”

“Yeah, turned in early. Got here about an hour ago.”

“Agent Poindexter,” Hattley calls from a few feet behind them. “Do you have a minute to speak?”

“Sure,” Dex answers. He looks back at her and smiles softly. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” she nods. 

Dex walks past her, following Hattley into her office. He’s not intimidated in the slightest—he knows he didn’t do anything wrong. He closes her door and takes a seat in front of her desk. 

“How are you, Poindexter? It’s been a while since I’ve called you in, which I guess is a good thing,” Hattley says as she sits down. 

“I’m good,” Dex says. “What’s the reason why I’m being called in?”

“Well, I understand that co-workers become friends and friends hang out outside of work. So I know a bunch of the agents went out last night. Which is typically fine,” Hattley begins, putting her hands together, “but I did receive a complaint from another agent this morning about something that happened last night.”

Dex can’t help but shake his head and roll his eyes—he was getting tired of the beating around the bush. “It was a game of darts, Agent Hattley.”

“I understand that,” she says quickly, “but Beckett is particularly unhappy with your conduct. And he feels uncomfortable about it.”

“Because I hit a bullseye?” Dex scoffed, “Hattley, come on. Do you hear how ridiculous this sounds? If Beckett is getting worried about a fair game of darts then maybe he’s not cut out for this job,” Dex explains in frustration. Of course, Beckett left out of the part that he instigated Dex’s so-called “conduct.” Of course he would leave out his own locker-room talk about __. “It was a brush,” Dex says more calmly. “It didn’t hit him.”

“I did hear something else,” Hattley says carefully. “There was a mention of __. Is that true?”

“It’s true that Beckett said something about her. Yes.”

“And then you proceeded to make him uncomfortable with the dart.”

“If you want to call playing a fair game making him uncomfortable, then yes. What’s your point?” 

“I just want to keep the peace, Agent Poindexter,” Hattley says quietly. “Do you really think I give a damn about a dart game after work hours? I manage a lot of personalities in this Bureau and if someone brings something to my attention, I’ll attempt to make peace, even if it is a silly game of darts. I just wanted to talk and let Beckett know I spoke with you. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

Dex nodded. He did. 

“Thank you,” he says sternly. “Can I please be excused?”

“Yes,” Hattley says. “Could you get __ for me? I’d like to speak with her as well.”

***

Dex finds her in her exam room, reading over a file at her desk. She’s sipping on a cup of coffee and focused when she hears the door of her room open. She’s pleasantly surprised again when she sees it’s Dex. 

“Hey,” she smiles, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Dex nods. “Hattley wants to talk to you.”

“Me? Why?” She asks as she stands from her seat, feeling a tiny bit nervous.”

“Uh,” Dex sighs, and steps inside her office completely, and shuts the door. “Just about something that happened last night.” 

“What happened last night and what does it have to do with me?”

Dex looks away from her concerned gaze. He’s not sure if he should tell her or not.

“I don���t want you to get upset,” Dex says in a soft, low voice. “Beckett and some other agents might have said some weird things about people in the office.”

She raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms. “I assume the people he said weird things about were women in the office?”

Dex nods. He doesn’t say anything more. She suddenly feels uncomfortable at the thought of Beckett being in her room. 

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll talk to Hattley.”

“It’s going to be alright,” Dex offers as comfort. 

“If you say so.”

Dex opens the door for her and lets her out. She makes her way to Hattley’s office and knocks on her door.

“Come in,” Hattley calls. 

“Hey,” she says, closing the door behind her. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Hattley nods. “Please, sit.”

“What’s going on?” She asks with confusion and anxiety in her voice. 

“This will be quick. I just wanted to ask you something about the agents here. You’ve gotten to know them over the past few months, right?”

“Yes,” she nods. “I like everyone here.”

“Does anyone make you uncomfortable?”

“Who are you exactly implying, Tammy?”

Hattley looks over her shoulder to make sure her door is closed. “Does Special Agent Poindexter make you uncomfortable?”

She laughs, despite herself. What was it with this Bureau trying to make Dex into something he’s not? Was his personality really that off-putting to people who didn’t know him? Dex hasn’t made her feel uncomfortable ever—it was Beckett who did. 

“Tammy,” she begins, leaning forward in her seat. “Wasn’t it Beckett who said something strange about the women in the office? No, I’m not afraid of Special Agent Poindexter. Frankly, it’s Agent Beckett who makes me uncomfortable. Shouldn’t you be asking me about him?”

Hattley purses her lips and considers what she says. “Okay. That’s all I needed to know.” 

Frustrated, she leaves Hattley’s office and quickly walks back to her exam room, shutting the door. Running a hand through her hair, she can’t help but wonder what it was Beckett said about her and the other women in the office. It must’ve been gross and inappropriate. Part of her wants to know, the other part is disgusted at the thought. 

And what did all this have to do with Dex?

[being-addie]

How to have a productive study session.

When your finals are in 2 days, and you've definitely NOT studied enough, it's normal to panic. You sit down to study and get a solid 30 minutes of calculus done, then jump down the rabbit hole called YouTube. Soon enough the dread creeps up because you're still not done.

As a girl who doesn't attend school regularly due to coaching classes I go to (I'll expand on this later), it's pretty easy to forget to study for exams and projects.

But there's nothing better than getting 98% on that exam. So I'm writing this as someone who's been scoring straight As all my life. Here's how to have a productive study session:

Note: This isn't a guide for romanticising studies. This is meant for a serious, productive session. I will, however, be making a guide to help romanticise studies because I've found it helps a lot.

Before you study

Identify what your distractions are: Let's be real, almost everyone has their phone on hand during study sessions. Put your phone on Do Not Disturb and keep it in a corner of the room. Add a few selected contacts that can reach you while your phone is on DND. If you can turn off notifications entirely, do that.

Taking measures: After I keep my phone away, my brain turns to the next thing it could be distracted by. My laptop and tablet. Put those devices in focus mode, so you won't be tempted to use any other apps and use a Chrome extension like StayFocused or WasteNoTime to not get sidetracked.

Resources: Make sure you have all your material on hand. Video lectures, notes, guides, your formula sheet, and flash cards. Keep everything on hand so you won't have to rifle through papers to find that reference sheet.

Your space: Clean your desk. Keep only the things you need. Your pens and pencils, chargers, annotation material and water bottle. If you want, light a candle. Do not clutter it unnecessarily. Your desk is a sacred space. Treat it that way.

When you sit down

The checklist: Do you have all the material required? Electronics, chargers, a snack and a drink? Water bottle? Extra pen? If you have everything beforehand, you'll be less likely to lose focus because you forgot to charge your headphones.

Make a plan: I cannot stress this enough. You'll sit down and just start studying, and next thing you know, it's 7pm and all you've done is watch videos on celebrity drama. Make a goddamn plan. Write down a realistic number of chapters you can complete and then STICK TO IT.

Begin: Reread and review your notes. I usually like to rewrite my notes in neater handwriting, because my handwriting in class is appalling. To really solidify information, I recommend the 'Blurting' method. Read a paragraph, then close the book and say what you understood out loud. Reread to see what you missed and take note. I did this for my history exam and got a 100%. This shit works for a reason. Use the Pomodoro technique to maximise productivity. Set an alarm for 25 minutes, and do intensive study. Once that's done, take a 5-minute break. Return and repeat.

IMPORTANT

Take a break: Ah yes, if you don't get up every 40 minutes or so for a break, eventually whatever you're studying will start looking like garbage and you'll be back to square one. GET UP. Walk around. STRETCH. You've been looking like a croissant🥐. Eat something. Rehydrate.

Forgive yourself: If you couldn't hit your target, don't be harsh on yourself. Find out the cause: Were you distracted? Did something unavoidable come up? Then try to make sure it doesn't happen again.

Study buddy: This is a double-edged sword. Studying with a friend can either increase your productivity by a massive amount, or it can help you get absolutely zero work done. When revising with a friend, make sure you study with someone who has the same goals as you and won't get distracted by things.

It's 2023, procrastination is cancelled. Go drink some water, eat a granola bar and finish that assignment you've been delaying. Be the person who finishes all their work, on time and perfectly. You can do it.

<3