#and i actually get to use everything i learned/practiced in school | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lynbels · 3 months ago

Note

25 jungwon pls pls pls

looks deceive - yjw (m)

#25: The quiet nerd turns out to be anything but shy, using your body like it’s his.

pairing: jungwon x reader - prompt req list

synopsis: You spent months teasing Jungwon for being the quiet nerd in class—until one night he finally snapped, and you learned exactly how wrong you were about him. ✉️ 3782wc

‼️tw: slight bullying, dubcon vibes, dominance, manhandling, degradation (light), oral (m receiving), rough sex, creampie, praise, possessiveness, spanking, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies guys)

💌: no because I totally imagine this happening good jungwon by day evil jungwon by night 😈

You weren’t a mean girl, not really. Just…a little playful. Maybe a little too playful when it came to the nerdy boy who sat in the back of your Chemistry class.

Yang Jungwon.

Blonde hair always perfectly parted, button-down shirts always ironed stiff, and those stupid little glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—he was practically begging for it. He didn’t even talk back when you and your friends joked about him. He just sat there, quietly scribbling formulas with that pretty hand of his, pretending not to hear the way you laughed.

“You think he’s a robot or something?” your friend Hana giggled one afternoon, chin propped on her hand as she watched Jungwon flip through his notes. “Bet he’s never even held a girl’s hand.”

You snickered behind your palm. “Held? I bet he’d pass out if a girl even looked at him for too long.”

It wasn’t personal. It was harmless, you told yourself. Jungwon was just…so easy to tease. Always so quiet, so polite, so desperately nerdy. He wore khaki pants for god’s sake. Khakis. In high school.

Sometimes you’d catch him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking—soft, wide-eyed stares, like he couldn’t believe you were real. It only made it funnier. You’d smile sweetly at him on purpose, wave too enthusiastically, lean a little too close when asking him a question during group projects, just to watch his face flush scarlet and his glasses fog up.

The poor boy was so easy to break.

And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Your whole group kind of adopted it as a game at this point: how fast could you fluster Jungwon? How pink could you get his cheeks? How many stuttered responses could you collect like trophies?

“He’s like…a pet,” your other friend Minji whispered one time after a pop quiz. You had just tapped Jungwon’s shoulder and thanked him (loudly) for “helping you study”—which he hadn’t—and the boy had practically short-circuited on the spot. “Like a little lost puppy.”

You’d laughed then, flipping your hair over your shoulder, feeling every bit the queen bee you were supposed to be. Jungwon was safe. Harmless. He wasn’t like the cocky jocks or the bad boys you flirted with sometimes—he was soft, easy to control, easy to tease.

Or at least…that’s what you thought.

Until one afternoon, everything changed.

You were sitting at your desk, lazily twirling a pen between your fingers, when you felt a shadow fall across your table. You looked up, blinking.

It was Jungwon.

He stood stiffly in front of you, clutching a neatly organized folder to his chest like a shield. His blonde hair was slightly messy today, a few strands falling across his forehead. His glasses slipped down his nose a little, and he pushed them up nervously with one finger.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Lost, Jungwon?”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something—but then stopped, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. His hands fidgeted against the folder, knuckles white from how tightly he gripped it. You could see the tips of his ears turning red.

Cute.

“I, uh…” He coughed lightly, adjusting his glasses again. “I…thought you might need help. For the chemistry assignment. Since…you asked…before.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t actually asked him for help—you’d teased him about it, sure, but it was all in good fun. You were popular, and smart enough to get by without tutoring from the class nerd. But now, standing there in front of you, Jungwon looked so serious. So determined, despite how nervous he clearly was.

You could feel Minji and Hana watching from across the room, barely containing their laughter. You gave them a quick glance—watch this—before turning back to Jungwon with your most dazzling smile.

“That’s sweet, Jungwon,” you said, voice dripping honey. “You’re worried about me?”

He flushed deeper, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I just…you seemed like you might…um…need help.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh. God, he was so easy.

Leaning forward on your elbows, you rested your chin in your hand and looked up at him through your lashes. “Are you offering to be my private tutor?”

His lips parted slightly, like the words got stuck in his throat. His glasses fogged a little again. “I—uh—I guess. If you want.”You smiled wider, loving the way his voice shook.

“Aw,” you cooed mockingly, loud enough for your friends to hear. “You’re so sweet, Jungwon. Are you always this nice to girls who bully you?”

Behind you, Hana snickered into her hand.

For a moment, Jungwon didn’t say anything. He just stood there, folder clutched tight to his chest, face burning. His eyes flickered to your mouth for a second—so quick you almost missed it—and then dropped to the floor again.

You tilted your head, smirking. So predictable.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” you added, voice low enough that only he could hear it. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you buy me coffee after tutoring too.”

He said nothing. Just nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and practically fled to the other side of the room.

You and your friends broke into giggles immediately.

“Poor thing’s gonna have a heart attack,” Minji whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. “Y/N, you’re evil.”

You smiled lazily, twirling your pen again. It was just harmless fun. Jungwon would never do anything about it. He was too shy, too sweet.

He’d stay quiet. Like he always did.

…Right?

You didn’t think about it much when you got the text later that day.

[unknown number]: you forgot your textbook. rm 3b.

[unknown number]: i can bring it if u want.

You stared at the messages, confused for a second—until you realized it had to be Jungwon. Of course it was. Who else would be that polite about a stupid forgotten book?

You texted back a half-hearted ok, already smirking to yourself. God, he’s desperate, you thought. He was really going out of his way for you now. It was almost pathetic.

You made your way to Room 3B after the last bell, the hallway practically deserted. Most people had already left for the day, leaving only the low hum of distant footsteps and the occasional squeak of sneakers on tile.

When you pushed open the door, the room was dim, the late afternoon sun spilling in long, golden streaks across the floor.

And there he was.

Jungwon stood by your desk, your chemistry textbook in hand, head bowed slightly. His blonde hair caught the light, making it look almost soft around the edges. He wasn’t wearing his blazer anymore—just the white button-up, the sleeves pushed up a little—and it made him look…different. More casual. More real.

You stepped inside lazily, the door clicking shut behind you.

“Wow,” you teased lightly, crossing your arms. “You really take your job as my tutor seriously, huh?”

He didn’t laugh.

Didn’t even smile.

He just looked up at you—and for the first time, you noticed something different in his eyes. Something that made your skin prickle a little.

He wasn’t nervous.

Not anymore.

“You forgot this,” he said simply, voice low and even.

You walked closer, letting your bag slide off your shoulder onto a chair. “Thanks, Professor Jungwon,” you joked, reaching for the book.

But instead of handing it to you, he held onto it—just out of reach.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

For a second, he just looked at you, head tilted slightly like he was studying something.

Then he smiled.

Not the shy, awkward smile you were used to.

No, this one was slower. Lazier. A smile that knew things. Dangerous things.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said, voice still light but edged with something sharper underneath. “Messing with me. Laughing at me with your little friends.”

You blinked, heart skipping once, confused. This wasn’t…this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“I mean…” you said slowly, trying to summon that same teasing tone. “Maybe a little?”

Jungwon stepped closer.

You instinctively backed up—only to feel the desk press against the backs of your thighs.

You opened your mouth to say something else—to crack another joke, maybe, to turn the moment back into something safe—but before you could, he set the textbook down carefully on the desk beside you.

And caged you in with both hands, palms flat against the wood.

You stared up at him, breath caught.

His eyes, usually so soft, were burning now. Sharp and focused, like he was seeing right through you. His body was so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, suffocating, dizzying.

“You think you can just say whatever you want to me,” he said softly, so close you could feel his breath fan across your lips. “Laugh at me. Flirt with me. Make me look like a fool.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body standing on end.

“I—It was just a joke,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered.

Another slow, dangerous smile.

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Well, here’s the thing, Y/N.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear.

“I’m done being the joke.”

You froze, your whole body tensing, but Jungwon didn’t give you any time to think.

One hand slid from the desk to your waist, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp. He pressed his body closer, chest against yours, so you could feel just how much bigger and stronger he really was.

“You’re so loud usually,” he whispered, voice smooth and dark against your ear. “Where’s all that attitude now, huh?”

You squirmed, but it only made him grip you tighter, pinning your hips against the desk.

“You thought you were in control,” he murmured, dragging the tip of his nose down the side of your throat, inhaling like he could smell your fear. “Laughing with your friends. Acting like you were better than me.”

You whimpered—quiet and unintentional—and he chuckled low in his chest.

“Not so funny now, is it?”

Slowly, torturously slow, he trailed his hand up your side, brushing under the hem of your shirt, fingertips feather-light against your bare skin. Your breath hitched, and he smiled against your neck.

“You like this,” he said quietly, almost like he was marveling at the realization. “You like when I’m mean to you.”

You shook your head automatically, but Jungwon just laughed again, dark and soft.

“Liar.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes were molten now, dark and hungry, and you shivered under the weight of his stare.

“I should make you beg,” he whispered, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “Make you apologize for being such a little brat.”

Your lips parted, desperate to say something—anything—but no words came out.

“You gonna be good for me now?” he asked, almost gently, dragging his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. “Or do I have to teach you a lesson?

You whimpered again, nodding weakly.

His smile widened, all sharp teeth and dangerous promise.

“Good girl.”

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with his knees. The sudden movement made you squeak, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance, but he didn’t let you go—he loomed over you, hands gripping your waist possessively, like he owned you.

“Show me,” Jungwon said, voice so soft it barely made a sound. “Get on your knees.”

You blinked up at him, heart racing, and whispered back without thinking, “W-What?”

He just stared down at you, unblinking, fingers tightening at your waist like a warning.

“On your knees,” he repeated, firmer now, and when you hesitated for half a second longer, he grabbed your chin and guided you down slowly, almost gentle, until your knees hit the floor with a quiet thud against the carpet.

“Jungwon…” you whispered again, voice small, but he didn’t budge.

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Pretty,” he murmured. “So pretty when you’re quiet.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning, and breathed out shakily, “I-I don’t know what you want me to do…”

A small, dangerous smile played on his lips. “You’ll figure it out.”

With slow, deliberate movements, he unbuckled his belt, the soft clink making your stomach twist in anticipation. You couldn’t look away—couldn’t even think—your mouth already watering slightly as he tugged his jeans down just enough, freeing his cock, hard and thick and leaking at the tip.

You whimpered, staring, and your thighs instinctively pressed together.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispered, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

You nodded frantically, voice barely a breath. “Y-Yeah… I want it.”

“Then open up,” he ordered, and his voice was so calm it made your whole body shudder.

You parted your lips obediently, heart thundering, and he slid the tip against your tongue, teasing you slowly, making you feel every inch.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low growl. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You whimpered again, looking up at him through your lashes, desperate to make him proud, desperate for him to keep saying those things to you.

“You’re so good, Jungwon,” you whispered around him, voice muffled and needy.

A dark flush colored his cheeks at your praise, but he didn’t let up, sliding deeper with slow, shallow thrusts, one hand threading into your hair to hold you there.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hips rocking slowly. “Such a good little mouth… made for me.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes from the stretch, but you forced yourself to stay still, to let him use you like he wanted. You wanted it. You wanted him.

“You look so good like this,” he breathed. “Bet you never thought you’d end up on your knees for me, huh?”

You whined around him, the humiliation and heat rushing through your body too much to handle.

“Didn’t know you’d be so mean,” you managed to mumble out when he pulled back a little, your voice wrecked and breathless.

He chuckled lowly, thumb brushing away a tear that slid down your cheek.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, baby,” he whispered.

You nodded, so desperate, so wrecked already. “Please…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungwon… I want you…”

His jaw flexed, his control visibly snapping.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hips jerking forward as he pushed deeper into your mouth, making you choke slightly.

You pulled back with a gasp, panting, and he immediately stroked your hair gently, calming you.

“Shh. You’re doing so good, pretty girl,” he praised. “You’re perfect.”

You looked up at him, tears in your lashes, spit glistening on your lips.

“I want to be good for you,” you said, voice wobbling.

“You already are,” he whispered, dragging his cock slowly across your tongue again.

You shivered, feeling your whole body light up at his words.

He tightened his grip in your hair, sliding himself back into your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, using you like he had every right to.

And you let him. Whimpering, obeying, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

Because he owned you now. And you didn’t want it any other way.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Jungwon yanked you up from the floor, strong hands gripping your waist and shoving you back against the couch. His body pressed flush against yours, caging you in.

“You’re not done,” he muttered, voice low and dark in your ear. “I’m not done.”

You whimpered, nodding without even thinking, your thighs squeezing together at the way he looked at you — like he was starving and you were the only thing he could eat.

He grabbed your chin roughly, tilting your head up so you couldn’t look away from him. His eyes, usually so soft and sunny, were blown wide and black with hunger.

“Look at you,” he whispered, breath hot against your cheek. “Already fucked out and I haven’t even gotten started.”

You tried to say something—tried to beg—but he didn’t give you the chance. In one swift movement, he manhandled you onto the couch, forcing you onto your back, and tugged your panties down your legs without ceremony.

“Spread those legs for me, pretty,” he murmured, voice steady but ragged with want.

You did, shakily, heart pounding so hard you could barely breathe.

He tugged his jeans down just enough, cock hard and leaking, and lined himself up without warning. You felt the blunt, thick head of him pressing against your entrance, and your breath caught.

“You ready?” he rasped.

You nodded desperately, nails digging into the cushions.

“Use your words,” he ordered, tapping the inside of your thigh sharply.

“Please,” you gasped out. “Please, Jungwon, I want it—need it—”

That was all he needed.

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and you screamed — high-pitched and choked, the stretch overwhelming. Your whole body arched off the couch at the sudden, merciless intrusion.

“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, holding himself still for a second, letting you feel every inch of him. “Feels too good. Gonna fuck you so stupid, baby.”

You sobbed, legs trembling around his hips, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled out halfway and slammed back in hard enough to make the couch creak beneath you. Again. Again. Hard and deep and punishing, every thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“You wanted to tease me?” he grunted, voice still soft and deadly in your ear. “Wanted to be a brat in front of your little friends?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, barely coherent under the relentless pace.

“Bet you don’t feel so cocky now, huh?” he whispered, punctuating every word with another deep thrust.

You tried to answer but all that came out was a broken moan.

He chuckled low under his breath, slowing down just enough to drag himself out painfully slow before slamming back in to the hilt, making you cry out.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he licked a tear off your cheek and murmured, “Poor thing. Too much?”

You shook your head wildly, clinging to him.

He kept going until your whole body was trembling, until your nails carved angry red lines down his back, until you were sobbing his name like it was the only word you knew.

Finally, when your legs gave out completely and you sagged into the cushions, he slowed. His hands gentled, cradling you.

Wordlessly, he pulled you into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His cock still heavy and hard between your legs, pressed against your soaked folds.

He cupped your face in both hands, smoothing your hair back, and kissed you so softly it almost hurt. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for him.

“You still want it?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathed, voice wrecked and trembling. “Please.”

He guided you down onto him slowly this time, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you open again.

You gasped, clinging to his shoulders, tears brimming in your lashes again from the slow, aching fullness.

“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Take all of it. You’re doing so good.”

He rocked you on his cock gently, holding you close, whispering filthy things in your ear the whole time.

“Feel how deep I am, baby? You were made for this… made for me to fuck you like this.”

You whimpered, biting his shoulder to muffle your sobs of pleasure as he guided your hips, slow and deep and overwhelming.

“Never teasing me again,” he whispered, smiling against your hair. “Not unless you want this.”

You nodded desperately, grinding down against him, so full you could barely think.

“You’re mine to fuck,” he murmured, dragging his cock against that sensitive spot inside you, making you jolt in his lap. “Mine to ruin.”

You came apart in his arms, sobbing his name into his shoulder, shaking and gasping. He held you through it, never stopping, whispering praise into your ear until you completely fell apart.

And when he finally followed, spilling deep inside you with a low groan, he didn’t move away.

He just held you, rocking you gently in his lap, brushing kisses across your temple, your jaw, your mouth.

Like he hadn’t just broken you completely.

Like he was never gonna let you go.

The next morning, you could still feel it — a dull, delicious ache between your thighs with every step you took. Your body was sore, your neck littered with faint bruises you tried—and failed—to cover with makeup, and your heart raced every time you even thought about Jungwon.

Which was a problem. Because you were sitting across from him in class, and he kept sneaking little glances at you from behind his glasses, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips whenever your eyes met.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, clenching your thighs together under the desk, cheeks burning.

“What’s up with you?” one of your friends whispered, elbowing you in the side during lecture.

“Huh? N-nothing,” you stammered, staring down at your notes so hard the lines blurred together.

Another girl leaned over. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

“I don’t,” you protested weakly, adjusting your jacket to hide the faint purple marks blooming down your throat.

They weren’t convinced.

“You’re acting weird,” the first girl said, wrinkling her nose. “Like…all shy and jumpy. Did something happen?”

“No,” you said too quickly, glancing instinctively at Jungwon.

You caught him looking again — but this time, he didn’t look away. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, slow and deliberate, and your stomach flipped.

Oh god.

Your friends caught that look.

They turned, following your gaze, and their jaws dropped.

“Wait. No freaking way,” one of them whispered, half-laughing. “You’re into him?!”

“I—” You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The other girl snorted. “Since when do you like nerds?”

You shrank into your seat, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. Especially when Jungwon leaned back in his chair casually, spreading his thighs just a little wider under the desk — like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat.

“Bet he’s not that nerdy when he’s alone with her,” one of your friends joked under her breath, laughing.

Your face flamed.

And across the room, Jungwon smiled lazily at you, like a wolf who knew his prey wasn’t going anywhere.

prompt request list

1K notes · View notes

echstacy00 · 5 months ago

Text

hopelessly yours: nerd!jake x popular!reader

jake sim is down horrendous for you.

like, it’s actually embarrassing how obvious his crush is. the lingering stares, the way he practically trips over his own feet whenever you walk into the room, and, oh—let’s not forget the way he stammers through a sentence when you’re within a five-foot radius.

everyone knows. your friends tease you about your personal lovestruck puppy, and even you can’t deny how adorable he is.

so when he asks you to tutor him—despite being the literal top student in your grade—you go along with it, because, well… why not indulge him a little?

jake has a problem.

a big, undeniable, all-consuming problem. and that is you.

“dude, you’re staring again,” sunghoon mutters, elbowing jake in the ribs as he watches you laugh with your friends from across the cafeteria.

jake snaps out of it immediately, looking guilty as he shoves his glasses up his nose. “i—i wasn’t staring!”

sunghoon gives him a deadpan look. “right. and i’m secretly a k-pop idol.” he says overly sarcastic.

jake groans, dropping his head onto the table. he knows he’s being obvious. he knows his heart shouldn’t be racing every time you so much as breathe in his direction.

and he definitely knows he shouldn’t be replaying that one time you smiled at him in the hallway like it was the highlight of his entire existence.

(which… it kind of was btw!)

“bro, this is sad,” jay sighs chiming in, sipping his drink. “just talk to her.” he suggests as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

jake scoffs. “yeah, let me just go up to the most amazing, beautiful girl in school and tell her i’m in love with her—great plan, jay.”

jay shrugs. “worked for me.”

jake glares. “thats because you have—“

“rizz. you, on the other hand, have… social anxiety.” jay says cutting off jake making him also cringe with his lingo of choice in the process.

“you also have the biggest brain in this school. maybe that’s your in,” sunoo chimes in, smirking. “pretend you need tutoring or something.”

jake pauses.

and that’s how he ends up in the library after school, standing in front of you with the worst, most transparent lie of his life.

“you want me to tutor you?” you raise an eyebrow, looking up at him from where you’re seated. “jake, you have, like, a 98 in math…and almost everything else.” you tilt your head in confusion.

jake laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “uh, yeah, but, you know… i could always use some help. with, um, derivatives.”

“derivatives?” you deadpan. “we haven’t even started that unit yet.”

oh, he’s so bad at this.

but you’re looking at him with this amused little smile, and suddenly it’s all worth it.

“…fine,” you say with a sigh, closing your book. “i’ll tutor you.”

jake nearly ascends to another plane of existence.

he quickly learns that tutoring with you is both the best and worst decision of his life.

best, because he gets to spend hours with you, just the two of you, sitting side by side in the library while you explain concepts he already knows by heart.

worst, because….well he’s barely listening.

“…jake?” you wave a hand in front of his face.

he blinks. “huh?”

you sigh, smiling despite yourself. “you’re not even paying attention.” you playfully roll your eyes

he swallows. “i—i am! i swear!”

you tilt your head, resting your chin on your palm. “then what’s the answer to question five?”

jake looks down at the textbook, only to realize he has no idea what you just asked him.

he’s doomed.

but instead of calling him out, you just giggle, shaking your head. “you’re so cute, jake.”

oh.

oh, no.

his brain short-circuits. his face heats up faster than a laptop running ten chrome tabs. he can’t function. you called him cute.

you notice the way his ears turn red, and something about his dorky little reaction makes you so endeared.

“let’s just take a break,” you say, amused. “maybe we can just… talk for a bit?”

jake gulps. “t-talk?”

“yeah.” you smile at him. “i wanna get to know you better.”

jake swears his soul leaves his body.

tutoring sessions become a regular thing. not because jake needs them (he really doesn’t), but because they’ve become your favorite part of the week, too.

you start to notice the little things about him—how he always brings two drinks, one for you and one for him, even though you never ask. how he doodles on the corners of his notes when he thinks you aren’t looking. how he always walks you to class after your sessions, even if it makes him late.

and you definitely notice how his crush hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

“just confess already,” yunjin tells you one afternoon.

you blink. “huh?”

shee gives you a look. “jake. the nerd who worships you? the one you tutor but not really? just confess, girl, it’s so obvious you like him too.”

you open your mouth to argue, but… well.

maybe she’s right.

that’s how you end up standing in front of jake after your latest study session, heart pounding a little harder than usual.

jake has no idea what’s coming when you show up to the library that afternoon, notebook in hand, like it’s any other tutoring session.

but this time, you have a plan.

you sit down across from him, watching the way his ears turn pink when you so much as glance in his direction. It’s cute. he’s cute. like always and maybe it took you longer than it should have, but you’re finally ready to admit it.

“jake,” you say, cutting him off before he can start his usual rambling. “you don’t actually need tutoring, do you?”

jake freezes. his mouth opens, then closes, and for the first time since you met him, he’s completely speechless.

“i—i—”

you smile. “it’s okay, you know.”

his eyes widen behind his glasses. “i—it is?”

“yeah.” you lean forward slightly, resting your chin in your palm. “because if you wanted an excuse to spend time with me, you didn’t have to make one up.”

jake swears his heart stops.

he’s pretty sure this is the part where he malfunctions entirely. maybe blacks out. maybe gets beamed into another dimension because there is no way you just said that to him.

and then—then—you do something even worse.

you reach out, gently taking his hand in yours. he swears he’s going to die.

“so,” you say, squeezing his fingers. “do you wanna stop pretending now?”

jake doesn’t stand a chance.

please do not motify my works.

#jake sim #jake sim fanfic #jake sim enhypen #sim jake #sim jaeyun #sim jaehyun x reader #enhypen jake #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #jake x reader #jake x y/n #jake x you

1K notes · View notes

honeytonedhottie · 11 months ago

Text

beauty and brains⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀☕️

in this post we'll talk about how to implement continual learning into ur life and how to nurture ur intellect and ur beauty, like elle woods for example…💬🎀

MINDSET ;

first off lets take a look at ur mindset. you need to be willing to learn and if ur stubborn then ur not gonna allow urself to learn and become smarter so for that reason mindset is the perfect place to start when ur starting ur beauty and brains journey.

perspective is EVERYTHING when it comes to learning. if u have the belief that "i hate math so much, im so not good at it etc etc" you're already setting urself up for failure. remember that we are in charge of our own learning.

figure out the sources of ur limiting beliefs about urself and challenge them. ask urself "why do i think im bad at math (or any other subject)" and the answers that u give urself, CHALLENGE them.

UNDERSTAND THAT ;

before we go any further understand that no subject is too complicated to learn and if ur experiencing that then ur learning it the wrong way…💬🎀

if ur having a hard time understanding a subject in school because of the way ur teacher explains it, ask another teacher at ur school and if that doesn't work turn to online resources OR just ask chat gpt. i ask chat gpt to help me break down math problems and explain how to do them and it works rly good for me.

READING ;

from my own experience i feel like reading is so so important. bcuz reading helps u to expand ur vocabulary and improves comprehension and so much more. personally i love to read so this isnt hard for me to do but if u originally dont like to read here are some ways to romanticize reading.

♡ start with topics/genres that u love

♡ set small goals (like reading for 5-10 minutes a day) and then building upon those goals

♡ experiment with physical books, e-books etc to figure out what u like best

WHAT U WATCH ;

i watch a lot of discussion based youtube videos, and video essays, documentaries etc and i have learned so much from them and they're actually one of my favorite ways to learn things. so i highly recommend watching some. watching things like this is so important because they provide a deeper understanding of real-world issues, cultures, and events that we might not encounter in our daily lives.

HOW TO UNDERSTAND ;

understanding what u read and what u learn is so so important. the way i make sure that i understand what im learning is through writing papers. writing papers about things that interest me or things that i learn has helped me to retain what i learn instead of forgetting it all.

another key thing to remember is PRACTICE. if u dont practice what u learn you'll literally forget it. use everything that u learn and if u can't physically use it, imagine urself using it.

MAKE IT A GAME ;

this is where the beauty aspect of the phrase "beauty and brains" comes into play. make learning like a GAME. i think thats how u get smart the best. just implement it into ur daily life.

for example if u have a habit of watching an episode of ur favorite show a day (or multiple) between episodes read for x amount of time. if u go for a run everyday listen to an audio book whilst running. think of that scene in the movie legally blonde where elle was reading her textbook while working out.

2K notes · View notes

quietdeparturesarchive · 4 months ago

Text

Tips On How To Get Your Life Together

make a list of your top priorities: Figure out what actually matters to you right now. This isn’t about what you should care about, but what truly takes up your energy—school, your health, building confidence, relationships, etc. Keep the list short (3–5 things max) so you can focus. ‎

create a morning and night routine: Routines give your brain structure. You don’t need a 10-step ritual—just something consistent. Morning = stretch, drink water, check your planner. Night = wash your face, no phone 30 mins before bed, quick journal. That alone is enough. ‎

check in with yourself and journal frequently: Journaling doesn’t mean writing novels. Just note how you feel, what’s bothering you, what went well, or what’s on your mind. Use prompts if you’re stuck. The point is to stay connected to yourself instead of spiraling in your head. ‎

start saving money: Even a small amount every week matters. Start tracking what you spend. Make a savings goal (emergency fund, a trip, new laptop). Try a rule like “save 10% of what I get” or “no impulse purchases until Sunday.” ‎

learn something new every day: It doesn’t have to be academic. Listen to a podcast, read one article, Google something random. Write down one interesting thing you learned to help you remember it—and to remind yourself that you’re growing. ‎

spend time with the people you love: Text them. Call them. Make plans, even if you’re busy. Shared time matters. It’s easy to get caught up in fixing yourself and forget that love and connection are part of being okay. ‎

keep track of your sleep, hydration, nutrition: Start observing how your body feels. Are you getting 7–8 hours of sleep? Drinking enough water (2L/day)? Eating regularly? You don’t have to go full fitness-tracker, but noticing patterns can help you feel way more in control. ‎

list down your stress triggers: What causes you anxiety, procrastination, or overwhelm? Write them down. Knowing your triggers helps you build systems around them. If social events drain you, plan alone time after. If deadlines stress you, start earlier. ‎

clean your room: Your environment reflects your mental state. Tidy up the space where you spend the most time. It doesn’t need to be perfect—just put things back in place, wipe down surfaces, and open a window. It shifts your mindset. ‎

practice gratitude and/or meditate: You don’t have to be spiritual. Just note what’s good. Try writing 3 small things you’re grateful for, or sitting quietly for 5 minutes. It helps your mind slow down and notice what’s okay, even on rough days. ‎

set boundaries: Say no when you need to. Don’t reply right away if you’re drained. Make rules for yourself about how much you give to others. Boundaries protect your energy—they’re not selfish, they’re necessary. ‎

declutter your phone, laptop, etc: Digital mess counts. Delete apps you don’t use, clear out your camera roll and downloads, organize folders. It helps reduce mental clutter and makes everything feel more intentional. ‎

plan 1 self care act every day: Something small, just for you. A walk, skincare, journaling, no-screen time, reading. Doesn’t have to be fancy or expensive—just consistent and kind to yourself.

xoxo, sally

pic1 | pic2 | pic3

836 notes · View notes

invincibledc · 5 months ago

Text

⋆. 𐙚 ˚𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪 𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑺𝑶𝑵 + 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑿 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹!𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹⋆. 𐙚 ˚

pt.1 || pt.2

☆〜 what a smart child, a powerful child that is a god in their own world. The power to shift through realities, the power to make things shift to your own amusement. But what happens when this simple child, this child in elementary, shifts into a universe of violence, landing onto a soft bouncy house.

Giggling wildly, they hop off the bouncy house, ignoring the shock looks of parents as some kids at this assumed birthday party had their jaw drops. But this child didn’t care but to explore! And explore they did, they found themself in a place called bludhaven. A man with some kinda suit with black and blue appears the next minute behind the child.

“Hey kiddo, where’s your mommy or daddy?” His tone soft and gentle. Turning around, the child shrugs, use to them being randomly teleported due to their powers. “Don’t know. I want ice cream!” They point to an ice cream truck, accidentally changing the topic as they rush at it. Nightwing could only panic as he rushes over to this hyper child.

“Hey! Look both ways before crossing!” After the small heart attack, nightwing lets the child get on his back. Going to the police station to see if there is any records about this random child that had randomly made the one scoop ice cream into a three scoop.

After seeing there were no records of the child’s parents, or at least the child at most. Nightwing didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to give the small child up to foster care. Foster care isn’t the best option at times.

So….he took care of you. He made sure you didn’t know who he was. Dick started to take care of you like a father and an older brother. Not bothering to help you learn things you didn’t know before. But it was only for so long til he could keep the secret before you had found his suit in his closet. “Mr. Grayson!” Dick turns around with a smile. “Yes kid—” immediately drops the pan that held pancakes as you held the Nightwing costume.

“Hero! You’re a herooo!!” Your eyes widen as you put it down gently with small pats. “I wanna be one!” Dick puts the pancakes up with the pan and picks you up, shaking his head no with worry. “No! No! You are too young, and you still are in 3rd grade. You can’t just be a superhero” you pouted as you pointed to the pancakes which transformed into blueberry waffles.

“But.. I wanna help people.” Dick has learned about your powers since you turned broccoli into a chicken sandwich. “Yeah… but it’s not worth it. Believe me.” Haley barks at her owner, staring at him with those big eyes of hers. “But Haley goes out on missions with you!” Dick’s eyes widen as he sits you down.

“You know I went on missions!?” Pouting, you huff. “How can Haley go but I can’t?” “Cause you have school!” “Not on weekends!” The argument you both had left some heavy air for a few days. Mostly cause of your stubbornness, you held a grudge, and when you hold a grudge. You hold one. You reminded him of his younger brother, Damian.

Dick tried everything to get you to forgive him, as such as; ice cream, plushies, movie tickets to the new paw patrol movie. Hell even the newish SpongeBob movie.

Okay now you did talk to him and cling to him like you usual do. But that ended right after the movie ended. Then finally, you’ve won as dick had Bruce clutch in and made you a suit. The suit was very cute with pastel colors due to your love with sparkles. You even named yourself the “Sparkler”, but who knows how long that name will last when you get older.

Yes, dick intends to take care of you to the point you grow old enough to move out. He’s practically the only family you got… in his point of view not knowing you have an actual family out of this reality. But he feels like he actually has his own family, sure he has one with the batfamily. But with you around and your childish antics, he felt.. calm.

As if you were his charge. And he loves it. It’s been months, almost a year since you’ve been here and he would go to any rehearsal you have if you join anything. Hell, he was so happy to hear you call him dad at least. Not dick, not Mr. Grayson.

But dad.

You both already created such a family bond that Bruce even sees you as his grandchild. And his brothers see you as their [nephew/neice]. Damian even gifted you a tiny sword, and dick snatched it away the minute you started swinging it around.

But eitherless, you had fun with your parental figure! That was still a sparkly patrol arrived out of no where.

You were coloring as Dick was in the kitchen cooking your favorite meal, you turned at the portal, not interested as you only rolled your eyes. It was just some portal that would appear when your time limit in a reality has passed. But you loved staying here! Dick was better than your own parents at your own world… but you guess the portal said otherwise.

The portal made a weird noise, like it was growling as it started to suck in everything in your room. Eyes widen, you get up, ready to run. “Dad! Dad!” You yelled for him, the portal started to suck in the plushies like a black hole. You dodged some things that could’ve hit your head.

You were so close to the door! But then the portal got angry, starting to gulp in everything. Dick, who heard a loud scream, dropped whatever he had in his hands when he heared your scream. Haley was ready too as she followed her owner to the room of his beloved child.

But he was too late.. the room was empty of everything. Including you. The blue eyed male dropped to the floor, Haley whines, trying to sniff around. You were gone, your scream echoed in his head.

He was late… late.. late….

Late……

He felt broken. He couldn’t save you from whatever happened…..

Where did you even go?

☆

Mark was flying through the sky, patrolling the city bored as he frowned. “God this is more boring than usual…” then he gets hit with a flying child that fell from a sparkly portal.

Mark grunts as he held you tight to his body, not wasting time or fly to a safe spot. He would’ve thought you would be shaking, scared, crying. You looked no older than 8 or at least 9, yet you had such a soft look on your face along with nonchalance.

“Well that was fun!” You exclaimed as you jumped excitedly. “H-how..? What the…. Are you okay?!” Thoughts was running through his head, a kid, much younger than his half brother was standing infront of him, dusting themself off as if they weren’t close to even dying!? “Oh me? I’m fine! But i need to back to my dad.” You looked around the place that you landed by with this hero.

Seeing no sparkly portal, you frowned. You felt sad, usually you didn’t feel this sad when going through another universe or whatever they are called. Mark looks at you confused, “Hey uhm, buddy? What are you looking for?” He questions as he tries to gentle his voice. “Portal with sparkles! It’s my way back to my dad!” You grabbed mark’s hand. “You’ll help me right?”

Mark didn’t know if he wanted to, he should! Of course he should! But the way you aren’t worried about falling from the sky, yapping about some kind of sparkly portal, and you’re a child. This could ring into trouble. But you look so innocent, and scared.

“Listen, what does your dad look like?”

“Well he has black hair, blue eyes, and he has dimples.” You pointed to both side of your cheeks to make it seem like dimples. Doing so, mark almost laughed at how adorable you seemed. Okay maybe you weren’t trouble, but you definitely were lost.

“Alright, let’s find your dad.” He picks you up, having you smile thinking that maybe he could get someone to have you into the place you were in before…

TO BE CONTINUED

896 notes · View notes

glowettee · 5 months ago

Text

✧˖° the identity shift: start thinking like an A+ student

post 1

💭 before you even touch your notes, before you highlight a single word, before you drown in exam stress. change how you think about yourself.

most people study with the mindset of “i hope i do well” instead of “i am the kind of person who excels.” and that’s the difference. if you want to start acing your exams, your first step isn’t flashcards or practice tests. it’s shifting your identity. because an A+ student doesn’t just work hard, they think, act, and exist differently.

this is the second post to the final exam survival series. the last post, was focused on how to actually enjoy learning and using that to motivate yourself for school. this post will focus on shifting your identify, which can also work great for manifesting and law of attraction/assumption. i will try to give you the best possible tips to help you shift your mindset to already have the A+ mentality. love you guys <3 - mindy

disclaimer: please don't think i expect you to be perfect, i use 'A+ student' as a way to help you when using loa or manifesting. YOU ARE A HUMAN; DO NOT THINK YOU NEED TO MEET STANDARDS TO BE PERFECT! i love you all and wanted to make sure you know i am NOT setting an unrealistic standard. this post is to help you with manifesting good grades and to inspire you. not for toxic motivation or unrealistic standard setting. - mindy

✧˖° ➼ 01. stop identifying as “bad at studying”

you will never outperform the identity you attach to yourself. if you keep telling yourself: ➝ “i suck at this subject.”➝ “i’ve never been good at exams.”➝ “i’m just not a naturally smart person.”

then you’ll stay stuck. why? because your brain is wired to prove yourself right. but when you shift to: ➝ “i am fully capable of mastering this material.”➝ “i am becoming an A+ student.”➝ “i study in a way that works for me.”

your actions start aligning with that belief. the way you approach studying changes. and suddenly? you’re not “bad at it” anymore.

✧ homework: rewrite every negative academic belief you’ve held about yourself into a new, empowering one. read them before every study session.

✧˖° ➼ 02. start acting like an A+ student right now

not when you feel “ready.” not when you’re already good at the subject. right now.

✨ an A+ student doesn’t: • cram the night before and hope for the best • avoid studying because it feels overwhelming • rely on last-minute motivation to get things done

✨ an A+ student does: • plan their study sessions like an actual strategy • break down material into small, digestible pieces • work consistently, even when they don’t “feel like it”

✧ homework: take one small action today that your A+ student self would take. even if it’s just organizing your study space or making a realistic revision schedule.

✧˖° ➼ 03. use strategic learning, not just memorization

most students study to remember. A+ students study to understand. if you keep forcing yourself to memorize facts with no deeper connection, you’re setting yourself up for forgetting everything under pressure.

🖇 better study strategies:• teach the material → pretend you're tutoring someone who knows nothing about it. if you can explain it simply, you truly understand it. • apply what you learn → don’t just read about a formula, actually use it in practice questions. don’t just memorize historical dates, understand their impact. • switch up your methods → your brain loves novelty. use diagrams, study cards, summarization, and active recall instead of just rereading notes.

✧ homework: find one concept you’ve been struggling with and try teaching it to yourself out loud as if you were giving a TED talk.

✧˖° ➼ 04. start believing you deserve high grades

subconsciously, a lot of people don’t actually believe they’re the kind of person who gets top marks. they might think: ❝ i’ve never been a straight-A student, so why start now? ❞ ❝ my past grades weren’t amazing, i probably won’t do much better. ❞

but what if you let yourself believe otherwise? what if you fully accepted that you deserve to succeed just as much as anyone else? because you do. and the moment you believe that, you start acting in ways that make it true.

✧ homework: visualize yourself receiving your dream grade. feel the confidence of knowing you earned it. then ask yourself: what would my future self tell me to start doing right now?

✧˖° ➼ 05. control your environment like a top student

your surroundings play a huge role in your academic identity. A+ students set themselves up for success by designing an environment that makes focus effortless.

🖇 small shifts that make a huge difference: • keep your study space clean & minimal (no distractions) • use a dedicated study playlist to trigger focus mode • have a go-to beverage (tea, coffee, water) to make studying feel like a ritual • wear comfortable but put-together clothes to signal to your brain that it’s time to work • remove your phone from your workspace entirely (or use app blockers)

✧ homework: make one intentional change to your study environment today. observe how it affects your focus.

✧˖° ➼ 06. stop waiting for motivation

A+ students know that motivation is fleeting. they don’t rely on feeling “in the mood” to study. instead, they: ➝ create systems (set study times, routines) ➝ make studying automatic (habit, not a debate) ➝ use momentum (just start. five minutes can turn into an hour)

✧ homework: set a 10-minute timer and study right now. no overthinking, no debating. just start.

✧˖° mindy’s personal tips

💌 your identity is everything. if you don’t believe you’re an A+ student yet, start acting like it anyway. your mindset will catch up. 💌 make studying feel aesthetic. wear cute study outfits, light a candle, make it a whole vibe. enjoyable studying = effective studying. 💌 romanticize the glow-up. your academic transformation is a story. imagine looking back and realizing this was the moment everything changed. 💌 you are not behind. you can reinvent yourself as a top student at any time. even now. even today.

xoxo mindy

593 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 9 months ago

Note

Can you pleaseeee do staff joshua?

staff!joshua

WARNINGS: smut, figurine malfuncion, getting caught fingering, mentions of penetrative sex, limping after sex, dirty talk.

staff!joshua who was basically an angel in a designer hoodie, swooping in like he was born to save the day. he’d been recommended by an artist friend who was finally leaving the chaos of tour life behind, and, honestly, you’d had your doubts. you weren’t looking for another “helpful” stranger who’d end up tangled in the cables backstage or handing you the wrong mic.

you remember him showing up that first day, eyes bright and wide like he was taking in every damn inch of the chaos with some kinda awe. it was… annoying, actually, because who the hell has that much enthusiasm? the whole team couldn’t stop talking about him, whispering like he was some savior sent from above. you’d watch from across the dressing room, pretending not to notice, like, “oh sure, he’s cute or whatever,” but then he’d catch your eye and smile.

staff!joshua who somehow found himself in the middle of the most last-minute disaster ever. the accessories box—the one holding all your necklaces, rings, and that one choker that practically defines your stage look—got left at the hotel across town, hours away. designers scrambling, panic in the air, your manager about to lose it. you’re standing there, just praying that the team doesn’t fully spiral, and then joshua steps in, calm as you like. he asks for a spare box of beads, like it’s no big deal.

he actually sits on the floor, in the mddle of the dressing room, legs crossed like he’s chilling at some park, and starts putting together these bracelets. fast. you remember being half-stunned, watching him loop bead after bead with ridiculous speed, like he’s been doing it his whole life. and they weren’t just some random bracelets either—they actually looked good. he handed them over, “here you go, should work in a pinch.” like, who does that?

staff!joshua who ended up with half the crew wanting to know where he learned to make accessories like that, and he just shrugged, all humble, “oh, just a thing i used to do in high school.” as if that made sense.

next show, next country, you look out and see rows and rows of fans with identical bracelets. like, those beads? they’ve become a thing. suddenly, everyone wants one, and your socials are blowing up with people asking where they can get cute and colorful bracelets. you’d joked with him after, “might as well start selling these on the merch table,” and he’d laughed, soft and shy, scratching the back of his neck like he wasn’t used to the attention.

staff!joshua who, honestly, makes you wonder if he’s real, he’s always got everything covered, it’s late nights and early mornings, but somehow, he’s always there, making sure you have your coffee just the way you like it, that your schedule isn’t packed to the point of breaking. he’s the one who keeps track of your favorite snacks and stashes them in your backpack, knowing you’ll dig around for them at some ungodly hour.

staff!joshua who insists on walks when there’s downtime to make you less tense, taking you through narrow city streets, where he points out little cafes he researched beforehand, claiming it was just “a lucky find.” he laughs off your suspicions, saying, “it’s just a coincidence,” but you know he’s been studying maps like a tour guide, making sure you get to see more than just hotel lobbies and dressing rooms. he’ll hold your things so you can snap photos or just take in the sights, occasionally stepping back to give you a moment. always there, hovering just close enough to shield you if a crowd forms or if you need a break from everything.

staff!joshua who’s not just watching out for you but keeping an eye on every single person who shows up at airports or outside venues. he scans the crowd with that gentle look in his eyes, like he’s really seeing each one of them, making sure no one’s fainting or overheating. if he notices someone looking a bit off, he doesn’t hesitate, signaling to security or even paramedics to help them out, all while giving them this reassuring smile that somehow calms them down.

staff!joshua who knows when fans come up to you during your downtime and sees that look in your eyes, the tiny hesitation. he’ll lean over, voice soft, asking, “do you want to?” like it’s totally up to you, and it’s cool either way. if you’re not feeling it, he’s got the most polite, warm way of explaining, “i’m so sorry, but it’s y/n’s break right now.” no harshness, no impatience—just enough kindness that no one feels brushed off. but if you nod and say yes, he’s right there, practically crouching to make sure the angles are perfect, even telling the fan how to hold the camera for the best lighting. he gets the shots that’ll probably be framed on some bedroom wall or locked screens forever.

staff!joshua who goes from quietly fussing over your needs to casually slipping into a role that makes every fan interaction feel like the best one of their life. he’s got this way of making them feel comfortable, throwing in a gentle “don’t be nervous,” or even laughing softly to ease the anxiety.

staff!joshua who, without you even realizing it, has gone from that fresh-faced kid with the soft smile to a full-on bodyguard. he’s bulked up over time, muscles straining against the sleeves of his shirts, and when he’s guiding you through a crowded airport or weaving through backstage chaos, you catch more than a few fans sneaking glances his way. he doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he does, but he brushes it off.

staff!joshua who makes it a point to be in the hotel gym at whatever strange hour you decide to work out. he’s on his own schedule, of course, but he’s catching your attention even mid-workout. he doesn’t say much about it, but you know he’s thinking about your safety, wanting to be strong enough to keep you shielded with his... big chest.

staff!joshua who tries to stay professional when your hand naturally drifts to his arm. it’s like a habit now; his biceps have become your security blanket, something to hold onto when you’re being rushed through a crowd or stepping out of a car in sky-high heels. he’ll give you a quiet amused look, lips pressing together like he’s trying not to smile, but he never says anything about it.

staff!joshua who feels the burn of your touch whenever you steady yourself by pressing your hand against his muscular chest. maybe it’s to fix a shoe strap or straighten your skirt, his breath hitches every time, it’s like a test of his equilibrium, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep himself in check, especially when he catches your smirk.

staff!joshua who’s always one step ahead, guiding you with a gentle but firm hand on the small of your back when you’re navigating a crowded room.

staff!joshua who instinctively stands between you and the flash of cameras, positioning himself just enough to cover you from the harsh lights and endless stares. he doesn’t need to ask; he just knows when to move, leaning close “just stay behind me”

staff!joshua who never complains when you tug at his sleeve for attention, even if it’s the fifth time that hour. attentive look, ready to listen to whatever you need, whether it’s fixing a wardrobe mishap or finding the perfect hiding spot when the crowds get overwhelming.

staff!joshua who’s confused when you grab him and pull him into the wardrobe corner, pointing at the zipper like it’s some life-or-death situation. his face goes a little pink as he takes in the view—your tits all squished up, struggling against the fabric, and his hands practically itching to fix it. “are you sure?” he mumbles, glancing from you to the zipper and back, but there’s no time to pause; you’re due on stage any second.

staff!joshua who keeps his eyes fixed on that zipper, swallowing hard as he tries to get a grip on himself and on the stubborn thing trapping you. his fingers brush against your skin, and you feel him tense up, his breath quickening just slightly. he’s so close you can smell his cologne, fresh and warm, mixing with the backstage chaos, and it’s making it way harder for you to focus on anything else. “just… stay still..” he mutters, his voice a little shaky.

staff!joshua who practically loses it when the stylist finally throws up her hands and says, “just rip it off, joshua! we don’t have time.” his eyes go wide, panic flickering over his face, but then he nods, taking a deep breath. he plants his hands on either side of the fabric, his biceps flexing under his shirt as he grabs hold and gives one solid yank. there’s a loud rrrriiip, and the zipper splits apart, fabric tearing away like it’s nothing under his grip.

staff!joshua who is definitely not prepared for the way the fabric slips, your tits practically jumping in his face, leaving him blinking, wide-eyed, desperately trying to look anywhere else while you scramble to pull on your next outfit. he’s frozen for a second, like he’s processing what just happened, then quickly steps back.

staff!joshua who always insists on separate rooms whenever you’re on tour, like it’s some line in the sand he won’t cross, because he’s all about “boundaries.” but thank god for that, honestly, because the last thing you need is him realizing just how often your mind wanders to him in the quiet of your room after a show, the adrenaline still in your veins. nights like that, when you’re alone and all you can think about is the way he’s looked at you backstage, muscles tense as he keeps everything under control—never fails on making you horny.

staff!joshua who doesn’t know how many times you’ve slipped into your bed and imagined him there with you, his big hands choking you, slapping your face, his mouth kissing you, sucking you, that quiet and respectful control of his breaking just for you. you let yourself get lost in the thought of him, and in the safety of your own room, you give in to all those bottled-up feelings, whispering his name under your breath, touching yourself, feeling your pulse race as you imagine him actually being there.

staff!joshua who has no clue that some nights, you’re too far gone to even muffle the sounds you make, pressing a hand to your mouth as you cum, breathy little sighs slipping out, like he’s actually there. you always tell yourself you’ll be quieter next time, but every show seems to make it worse, every touch from him leaving a trail of him that lasts long after he’s gone.

staff!joshua who probably wouldn’t know what to do if he ever caught you like that—caught you in the middle of one of those late-night moments, your head thrown back, his name slipping from your lips, no shame. the thought alone is almost too much to handle, but you keep going back to it, night after night, letting yourself imagine just a little more.

staff!joshua who, one night, knocks on your door to deliver something you left behind in the venue dressing room, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re in there, already lost in thoughts of him. you dont even hear the knock over the sounds of your own pussy, and you don’t realize he’s actually come in, quietly calling your name, until you see his shadow across the wall.

staff!joshua who stands there frozen for a second, just staring, his fingers fumbling with the doorknob like he’s trying to make a quick exit but forgot how doors work.

when he finally remembers to turn the handle, ends up pulling it the wrong way, the door making this awkward little squeak as he fumbles to open it again. he’s all flushed and stuttering out apologies, but he’s rooted in place, eyes darting back to you like he’s trying to process what he just walked in on and failing miserably.

your heart its almost jumping from your chest, but you let the duvet slip just a little, the fabric falling away from your legs, exposing the curve of your thigh, the soft line of your hip. his eyes follow it, widening just slightly, his fingers gripping the door handle even tighter.

staff!joshua who, when you tug his wrist gently, doesn’t resist, he lets you pull him closer until he sits by your side, as you whine “joshua… come here,” in that low, inviting way, and something shines in his eyes, like you’ve struck a nerve he’s tried so hard to keep hidden.

staff!joshua who finally presses his lips to your neck, his hand moves up your thigh, fingers fastly pushing the duvet away, leaving you naked. when he finally slides his hand over you, through your damp folds, the feel of his fingers brushing your swollen clit, making your nipples harden.

his thumb presses the clit savoring the reaction he’s getting from you. you can tell he’s testing every little gesture, finding what makes you pant, what makes your hips move toward him.

staff!joshua who presses his fingers in, slipping past the wet folds, to the gummy walls, the first slide inside so warm, so deep, and you let out a moan—that you don't have to hold anymore, afraid that he would hear from the next room—your pussy already clenching around him. he groans softly, leaning over you, his arm flexing as he presses deeper, his other hand coming up to grip one of your wrist up your head, holding you steady as his fingers curl impossibly tight. you can feel the tension in him, the restraint, but the way his fingers move, lets you know he’s not holding back with his touch, at least.

“like that?” he asks, and you nod, swallowing down a shaky breath as he picks up the pace.

staff!joshua who starts to move his fingers a little deeper, making a funny wet sound, until you’re gripping the duvet, your head tipping back.

staff!joshua who, lets out a low chuckle everytime you moan a little louder. “what was that hm? a moan? for me? tell me..”

staff!joshua when he notices you squirming under his touch, about to cum he teases more “so needy... you don’t even have to say it.” he pauses, letting the fingers sink in, as you feel his other hand come up to grip your thigh, holding you as he continues. “what would they all say if they saw you right now?” he muses. “you know, you make it so hard for me to be professional sometimes.”

staff!joshua who, when he notices you clenching your fists in the duvet, laughs softly, a low, wicked sound. “go on,” he whispers, his fingers curling just right. “let me hear everything.”

staff!joshua that after every single time you thought you’d caught your breath, would lean down, “not done yet, sweetheart,” before sending you spiraling right back. destroying your poor swollen cunt after cumming multiple times..

staff!joshua next morning, is already at the hotel breakfast with the crew, sitting perfectly, like he didn’t just ruin you the night before. he watches you walk in, eyes glinting as he sees the way you’re moving—trying to walk normally, but the subtle limp gives it all away.

staff!joshua who has the audacity to pat the empty chair next to him, tilting his head with an innocent expression as if he’s not the reason you’re struggling to walk. “sleep well?” he asks, but you know he's holding back a laugh. you shoot him a glare, but he just raises an eyebro.

staff!joshua who leans in, voice quiet enough that only you can hear, and whispers, “if you need me to help you up to your room after this, just say the word,” his fingers brush against your knee under the table, so subtle that no one else would notice, but it’s enough to remind you of every. single. thing. he did to you last night.

staff!joshua who has no problem keeping that perfect poker face as the morning goes on, answering questions, making small talk with the crew, all while casting you the occasional glance. every time he catches you shifting in your seat, trying to get comfortable, he hides a smirk behind his coffee mug, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you flustered and sore, his own private victory.

831 notes · View notes

inkskinned · 2 years ago

Text

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

#spilled ink #writeblr #warm up

4K notes · View notes

steve-loves-eddie · 3 months ago

Text

Too Hot to Handle

Teacher!Eddie x Firefighter!Steve

Masterlist - Ao3

Rating: 18+, minors gtfo

Plot: Eddie takes his third grade class on a field trip to the fire station. Everything is going great until he's swept off his feet by Fireman Steve. CW: Oops, I wrote porn again! Brief mention of drugs, but in reference to physique not actually doing drugs, anal fingering, protected p in a sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, lots of switching positions Word Count: 7.7k

“Single file, friends! Everyone line up on the driveway, just like we practiced!”

Field trips are always a welcomed way to break up the normal school days, but sometimes getting a bunch of third graders to cooperate and behave can be more than a little stressful. Thankfully Eddie’s class this year are fucking angels and have no problem following his instructions. Which is great, because the field trip he managed to score is an important one. As a less than angelic child, he was no stranger to accidentally starting a couple fires here and there, so if anyone knows the importance of children’s fire safety, it’s him.

The kids all line up along the driveway of the fire station and more than a few are bouncing on their toes with excitement. He walks up the line and quickly does a headcount, making sure there are the same amount of students as when they left, and is greeted by the fire chief waiting at the open garage doors.

“Chief Hopper. You must be Mr. Munson. Glad to have you all here today.”

Eddie’s hand is engulfed in this guy's bear paw as he reaches out to shake it. “Thanks for having us, Chief. They’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“Well let’s not make them wait any longer. Come on, kids! Who wants to check out a fire engine?”

The squeals are nearly deafening as the fire station is invaded by 8 and 9 year olds. Chief Hopper gives them a tour of the space, showing off all the equipment and explaining what their uses are before directing them to the shiny red vehicle that a third of the kids haven’t been able to take their eyes off of. They get to climb into the cab two at a time and honk the horn or flip on the lights and sirens, making Eddie wish he brought some earplugs along with him.

Soon they’re joined by two other firefighters and given demonstrations on how to work the hose. Fireman Lucas holds it steady while Eddie’s class lines up to all have a chance at spraying water down the driveway, and Fireman Mike lets all the kids gently pet their Dalmatian, Charcoal.

Once everyone gets a chance to honk, spray, and pet, the real education begins. Charcoal is taken back into the fire house, much to the children’s dismay, but once he’s gone something even cuter takes his place.

“Hi everyone, I’m Fireman Steve, and we’re gonna learn about fire safety today! Now who can tell me…”

Whatever he’s talking about goes right into one of Eddie’s ears and out the other. There’s just vacant space in between where his brain has melted away. This guy is hot. Like Australian Firefighter Calendar Centerfold level hot. Eddie’s always been a sucker for a man in uniform, but good god. He’s got this swoopy brown hair that Eddie wants to run his fingers through. His eyes sparkle as he talks and his smile is so fucking pretty it’s unfair. He’s got stubble indicating that he hasn’t shaved in maybe a few days and Eddie wants to rub his face all over it. The navy t-shirt he’s wearing shouldn’t be anything special, but the way it stretches over his defined pecks and bulging biceps has Eddie going a little weak in the knees. The suspenders are absolutely doing it for him, and Eddie wants to pull them off those broad shoulders with his fucking teeth. The standard firefighter pants are bulky and worn, and he’d give his right eye to dive in there and see what they’re hiding.

Jesus Christ, he’s gotta reign this in. He’s a teacher on a field trip with children for Christ’s sake.

“So show of hands, how many of you know what a fireman’s carry is?”

Eddie looks over his little sea of third graders and a few of them have their hands up in a silent answer to Fireman Steve’s question.

“Not many, I see! Well, sometimes in an emergency firefighters have to carry someone out of a burning building. It takes a lot of strength, and we have to be quick so we can get them to safety, so there’s a special way we do this. Who wants to see?”

Eddie chuckles to himself as every hand shoots up as high as they can reach. His laughter is cut short when suddenly his wrist is grabbed in a firm hold, a flash of navy blue passes him, a frankly huge arm dips between his legs (oh god) and his world is tilted on its axis as he’s lifted from the ground. He just hopes his students didn’t hear the high pitched squeak he let out. They probably can’t over their shouts of surprise and delighted peals of laughter, so thank god for that.

“See how easy it looks? Now please, please, don’t try doing this with your friends, ok? It takes a lot of practice and a lot of training to be able to pick someone up like this safely.”

This fucking guy is just casually talking while Eddie is draped over his shoulders like he weighs nothing. It’s taking everything in him to ignore how firm those shoulders are and how his back muscles seem to ripple under his t-shirt against Eddie’s stomach. If he gets a boner while Fireman Steve is wearing him like a cape in front of his class he’s going to have to leave the country or die of embarrassment.

The demonstration is over, and Eddie thinks that he’ll be set down and able to scamper into the corner to hide his blushing face, but Fireman Steve seems to have no desire to let him go. He and Chief Hopper talk to the kids about smoke detectors, and fire exits, and home evacuation plans, and the whole time Eddie is just…dangling there. He feels like an idiot, but he also can’t help but think how this guy could toss him around like a rag doll if he wanted.

Again, he needs to reign this in.

Finally, fucking finally, this part of the field trip is done as Fireman Steve encourages everyone to give Eddie a round of applause for his participation. Eddie’s feet touch the ground, and he feels a bit wobbly as the blood rushes back into his limbs. Fireman Steve steadies him with an arm around his waist, and gives him a blinding smile. “Easy there, Teach. I know I swept you off your feet, but I don’t need you falling for me and hurting yourself.”

And the fucker winks.

Eddie can feel his eyes bug out and he glances over the man’s shoulder to see that his class is fully distracted by the Chief handing out fire department t-shirts and fire safety activity books. He looks back at Fireman Steve and he’s smiling like he just won the fucking lottery. “Did…are you hitting on me right now?”

Ugh, his laugh is even hot somehow. “Sorry, I don’t normally do that. Not a lot of teachers that come in here are as cute as you. I uh…” He subtly flicks the rainbow pin on Eddie’s jean jacket. “Thought I’d shoot my shot.”

Eddie’s laugh is a little unhinged, definitely bordering on crazy, but he’s got to be losing his mind if he thinks this is actually happening. “Did I fall and hit my head or something? Is this a coma? Because there’s no way a hot firefighter is flirting with me on a school field trip.”

Fireman Steve grins and slowly drags his arm away from Eddie’s waist, just barely grazing the top of his ass as he does it. “Not a coma. Just a guy hoping to get a chance with the cute teacher. What’s your name, honey?”

Honey, oh god, Eddie’s in trouble.

“Mr. Munson! Look at the cool shirts we got! This was the best field trip ever!”

And the moment is broken by an excited 8 year old. Eddie musters up all the fake enthusiasm he can as he turns to his student and plasters on a big smile. “That is so cool Ella! I’m glad you had fun.” He looks around the room and sees that all the students are set with their shirts and books and sadly, that their time here is at an end. Time to rally the troops and get them back on the bus.

Eddie claps his hands three times and shouts “Mac and cheese!”

His students all stop in their tracks and shout back, “Everybody freeze!”

“Hocus Pocus!”

“Time to focus!”

“Yakety Yak?”

“Don’t talk back!”

“Awesome job, friends! It’s time to get back on the bus, so everybody find your bus buddy, and can we give a big Thank You to our firefighter friends?”

All the kids shout their thank you’s and Eddie glances over at Fireman Steve to see him absolutely beaming back at him. It’s too fucking much. He has to look away.

“Okay everybody! Ready to rock?”

“Ready to roll!”

“Yeah you are! Line up with your buddies and get your keisters on the bus!”

His class dutifully follows his instructions and he does his mental head count as they file down the driveway. Thank god, nobody’s missing. He turns back to Fireman Steve and gives him a small smile. “Thanks so much, they really had a great time.”

“So did I. But I still didn’t get your name.”

Eddie can feel the stupid blush creeping up his cheeks and he can’t believe this guy is so…forward. He holds out a hand and tries not to get lost in those hazel eyes. “It’s Eddie.”

The handshake is slow and…somehow sensual?! “It was really nice to meet you Eddie. I’m Steve.”

Yeah, like he could fucking forget the name of the firefighter who wore him around his shoulders for the better part of a safety lecture. “Yeah…you too. I uh…” He thumbs over his shoulder to the waiting bus and winces. “Gotta go. So. This has been fun! Bye Steve.”

He spins on his heel and tries to walk down the driveway at a pace that doesn’t give away how fucking mortified he is by that idiotic fumbling of words, and just prays that his house never catches fire so the scorching hot firefighter doesn’t show up and carry him out like a damsel in distress. He’s almost in the clear, just a few short paces to the open door, when he hears boots hitting the pavement and Steve’s voice calling out to him.

“Eddie! Wait a second!”

He stops dead in his tracks and turns back around to see Steve jogging towards him. Fuck, he looks good.

“Just wanted to give you this. We’re having a bake sale tonight to raise funds for the department. All the kids got one tucked in their books, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss out. And uh…sorry if I came on a little strong. If you’re not feeling it, that’s totally fine. But you should come by if you can. I hear the brownies are to die for.”

Eddie takes the flier and just blinks his big, stupid eyes at this guy. Fully aware that at least half the kids are plastered to the windows watching them, he has to make sure to keep his cool and not just throw himself at the man. “No uh…no apologies necessary. I’ll be there.” He hasn’t even looked at the flier to see what time it’s at, or checked his calendar to figure out if he’s even available, but there’s no way he won’t be drawn back here later like a moth to a flame.

“Harrington!”

The Chief’s barking voice interrupts their moony staring contest, and Steve calls back over his shoulder, “Yeah, Hop, I’m coming!” Turning back to Eddie he gives him a cocky little grin and wink. “I’ll see you later, Teach.”

And with that, Steve jogs back up the driveway, taking Eddie’s sanity with him.

“I can’t believe you fucked up our date night for a bake sale.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at his best friend and gives her a withering look. “Chris, our regularly scheduled taco nights where we both complain about being chronically single is not a date night.”

“It’s not just tacos! What about our movie snuggles? How is that not prime date night behavior?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks over at her from the driver’s seat. “Because we’re both gay, and neither of us have the parts that make that work for each other.”

Chrissy huffs and crosses her arms. “If you were a woman we’d be perfect for each other.”

“Probably. And if you were a man there’s no way your tiny little frame could throw me around.” He can’t help the dreamy smile that spreads on his face at the thought of Steve lifting him off the ground so easily.

“Ew, put your boner smile away. There’s no way this guy is as hot as you said he is.”

“Oh ye of little faith. I’m perfectly capable of snagging muscled up hunks, thank you.”

Chrissy’s snort is downright offensive. “Sure you are, hot shot. Your track record would prove otherwise.”

Ok, so she’s not exactly wrong, but she doesn’t have to point it out like that. His love life has been abysmal at best, and as he closes in on his thirties, he’s just not as into the club scene as he once was. Grindr and Tinder are a fucking nightmare, and he just prefers to meet people organically. But it’s hard to do that when all he has the energy for after a week of wrangling third graders is cuddling up with his best friend, watching terrible movies, and falling asleep on the couch together.

What can he say, he’s more homebody than a fuckboy these days. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to let Mr. Hot Firefighter use him like a fleshlight if he wants to. And if he spent a little extra time prepping in the shower after work just in case, that’s his own business.

He pulls up to the firehouse, finding a parking spot about halfway down the block, and mentally gives himself a pep talk on the walk over. He can do this. Steve was flirting with him. He’s got a shot. Chrissy must sense his nerves and loops her arm around his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Breathe, dummy. If he was giving you fuck-me-eyes on a goddamn field trip, you’ve got this in the bag.”

She definitely has a point. They stroll up to the firehouse, and the driveway and garage are filled with people and tables of what look like home baked desserts. Not ready to scan the crowd just yet for a particular muscled hunk, Eddie scans the tables instead in search of the brownies he was told about. He finds them and drags Chrissy over to Fireman Lucas, purchasing one for each of them. He drops a twenty in the boot they have on the table for extra donations and starts to mill around the space as he tells her about the Steve-free parts of the field trip.

When he takes his first bite of the brownie, he moans like a slut. “Oh my god, these are so good.”

“Thanks, they’re my grandma’s recipe.”

Eddie nearly chokes on the fudgy dessert as Steve appears out of nowhere with that goddamn cocky grin. And fuck he looks good. He’s still got the navy t-shirt on, but instead of the bulky flame retardant pants, he’s wearing some perfectly worn Levi’s. He’s never seen anyone fill out a pair of jeans like that. Good god.

“Steve! Hi! Uh…shit, you made these?”

Eloquent. Nicely done, Eddie.

He steps forward and brushes a crumb off the corner of Eddie’s lips with his thumb and fucking sticks it in his mouth. “Mhm…I did. By that sound you made, I’d say you’re enjoying them. Wonder what other sounds I can get out of you.”

Fucking Christ, who the hell is this guy?!

“Jesus Eddie, you weren’t kidding.” Both men turn their attention to the tiny blonde on his right. She’s got a shit eating grin on her face as she looks back and forth between them.

Eddie fumbles his way through an introduction and Chrissy tells him she’s going to look around for lemon squares, giving him a very pointed look as if to say go get him, Tiger! Don’t fuck this up!

Now a little lost without the anchoring presence of his best friend, Eddie feels a little adrift, not knowing what to say to this insanely gorgeous man who seemingly has no problem openly flirting with him. Thankfully Steve breaks the awkward silence.

“I’m glad you made it. I was hoping I didn’t scare you off earlier today. Sometimes I can be kind of…intense when I see something I want.” He looks Eddie up and down, from his leather jacket and cropped Sabbath shirt, down the length of his ripped black skinny jeans, to his beat up old Chucks, and trails those beautiful eyes back up slowly taking everything in. Eddie feels like he’s being examined under a microscope, but in the best way. “You’re definitely something I want.”

Eddie wonders if there’s a defibrillator nearby, because they may need it to jumpstart his fucking heart. He has to clear his throat in a poor attempt at getting it beating again. “Intense is an understatement, sweetheart. You’re like a flirtatious bulldozer. I honestly can’t believe someone like you would even give me the time of day.”

Steve furrows his brow at the comment and it honestly shouldn’t be so endearing. “Why would you say that? You seem like a catch, Eddie. You’re sweet and funny. You were so good with those kids. Not to mention gorgeous. Any guy would be lucky to have a chance with you.”

The compliments are way more than what he was expecting. And thank god they’re finally giving him a shred of confidence to try flirting back. “Well…lucky for you, flattery works with me. So do these brownies. Any other desserts you can win me over with around here?”

They walk around to the different tables, Steve guiding him to each one with a hand on his lower back, which Eddie is being totally normal about, and he’s given a run-down on the best desserts to try. Eddie grabs a peanut butter rice crispy treat, a blondie, and a couple chocolate chip cookies before Steve guides him back into the firehouse and they perch themselves on one of the counters.

“So. How did you become a teacher?”

Eddie swallows his bite of the cookie, which is fucking delicious, and licks his lips before answering. He’s pretty sure Steve’s eyes darted down to his mouth when he did, and he’s also being totally normal about that too thank you. “Well…I actually had a really hard time with school when I was a kid. I was a menace, don’t me wrong, but a lot of the teachers I ended up with had zero tolerance for me. When I was struggling, they just wrote it off as misbehavior or not wanting to do the work. None of them seemed to notice I had ADHD, and I wasn’t diagnosed until way later. So. I guess I wanted to kind of prove them wrong and be better than they were. Be the teacher that they should have been.”

He breaks off part of the cookie and hands it to Steve. “That’s really cool. Your students seem to love you, so you must be doing it right. What grade were they? Fourth?”

“Third. It’s the sweet spot. Younger kids are too noisy, too sticky. Older kids usually smell and the hormones are just too much for me to deal with. Third graders? They’re perfect. Just old enough to really get how school works and what’s expected of them, but also young enough that social hierarchies and shit don’t really mean anything to them. They’re pretty awesome.”

Steve breaks the rice crispy treat in half and hands him the bigger piece. “They seemed awesome. And the little call and response thing you did was fucking adorable.”

Eddie’s not sure if he means the kids were adorable, or if he was. He blushes regardless and deflects. “So how did you become a firefighter?”

“Trauma mostly. I was stuck in a mall fire when I was a teenager. Me and my best friend Robin who is…” He cranes his neck and points across the room. “Over there with Chrissy, hopelessly fumbling through what she would call flirting.”

Eddie spots them and can’t help but snort when he sees a girl with short hair wearing suspenders and flailing her arms around while talking to Chrissy, who is very clearly eating it up if her oh my god please sit on my face expression is anything to go by. “Oh good for them!”

“Right?! So anyway. Rob and I worked together at the mall, there was some crazy electrical fire, and we got trapped in a bathroom. A couple firefighters busted the door down and got us out just in time, and I guess it left an impression on me. Being in that kind of situation is fucking terrifying, and I wanted to be the guy who can pull people out of danger and get them to safety.”

Eddie takes a big breath and lets it all go in a dramatic whoosh. “So you’re hot, a good baker, and heroic as fuck. Goddamnit.”

Steve lifts an eyebrow and his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a grin. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“Yes.”

“You wanna come home with me after this?”

“Obviously.”

There’s some logistics they have to figure out, where Eddie drove Chrissy, and Steve drove Robin, and Steve doesn’t trust Robin to drive his truck, so Eddie can’t take him in his own car, and he ends up giving his keys to Chrissy so she can drive Robin, and he gets into Steve’s truck with a loose plan to figure out how to get his car back and everyone to their rightful homes in the morning.

It doesn’t even occur to him until Steve is pulling away from the station that they just could have taken Ubers and avoided all of this. Whatever. Once a gay disaster, always a gay disaster.

He’s not even thinking anymore as Steve unlocks his apartment and shoves Eddie inside. The door barely finishes closing and Steve’s hands are on him, grabbing his hips and backing him into the wall.

“You want this, right?”

What a stupid fucking question, but Eddie gets it. Consent and all. “Of course I do.”

Steve sighs and moves a little closer. “Thank god. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since I saw you this afternoon.”

Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders and slides them up the firm muscles until he’s cupping the back of his neck. “Just your hands?”

“No.”

Steve leans in and Eddie is fully expecting it to be hard and fast and dirty. But the first touch of their lips is…tender? He can’t think of another word for it. Steve kisses him like he’s trying to savor him and memorize how they feel together. It’s slow and indulgent, like they have all the time in the world. When Eddie parts his lips, Steve does the same, and he moans at the lingering sweetness he tastes on his tongue from the desserts they shared earlier.

Either the sounds coming out of Eddie, or the wet heat of their mouths seems to light a fire in Steve as he kisses Eddie deeper and harder, pressing him against the wall. Steve’s big hands squeeze his hips before sliding down and hooking behind Eddie’s thighs. It seems to take no effort at all for Steve to lift him right off the ground and wrap Eddie’s legs around his waist. And fuck if that isn’t hot as hell.

A whimper leaves his throat and he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck so he can hang on for dear life. In the back of his mind, he knows he doesn’t really need to. Steve’s got muscles for days and the way he threw Eddie over his shoulders earlier today is proof that he can handle his weight easily. God, Eddie wants to be fucking ruined by this man.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve pulls away from the wall, and sure as shit, carries Eddie off to his bedroom with zero effort at all. A small oof leaves his lips when he gets tossed onto the bed and bounces a few times on the soft mattress. Yeah, he better get absolutely manhandled by this guy tonight.

Steve kicks off his shoes and it’s at this moment that Eddie realizes they haven’t removed a single item of clothing yet. He scrambles to get his Chucks off and hastily tears off his leather jacket, tossing it to the floor.

“Easy, honey. There’s no rush.”

Eddie locks eyes with Steve and he looks positively delighted to see Eddie in such a hurry to strip down. “With all due respect, Steve…if you don’t take your clothes off and toss me around like a rag doll soon, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

Steve throws his head back and laughs, and Eddie spies several moles he needs to chew on as soon as he has access to them. “Sorry to keep you waiting!”

All of Eddie’s brain cells disintegrate when Steve reaches back, grabs the collar of his shirt, and pulls it off in one swift motion.

Muscles.

Hair.

Hair and muscles and moles and tan skin and Jesus Christ he’s gonna cum in his pants just looking at this guy.

“Holy fuck you’re hot.”

Steve grins at him, all confident and self assured. “Don’t sell yourself short. C’mon. Shirt off.”

Eddie has a moment. Just a brief moment where he wants to refuse, because there’s no way he can compete with all of that. But Steve looks like he’s about to eat him alive and no way in hell is he going to miss the opportunity. He draws it out. Slowly peels the cropped shirt off of his body and drops it to the floor. He’s not jacked like a fucking firefighter, but he does ok. He’s like…skinny hot. Like that heroin chic look from the 90’s but without the drugs and emaciation. Lithe. Little bit of definition from hauling band equipment and chasing after kids.

He’s pale, but in that alabaster way, where his black tattoos stand out even more than they should. The demon and spider on his left peck, and bats, wyvern, and puppetmaster on his arm are his oldest. Since he got those in high school, he’s added to the collection. A dragon on his left bicep with its tail wrapping around his forearm. Elvish script on his ribs. A kraken on his right shoulder with its tentacles swirling around his peck and down his side. And if Steve flips him over, he’ll see Aragorn’s sword, Anduril, inked down the length of his spine.

All the time, all the pain, all the money it took to get all of this on his body is worth it for the way Steve drinks him in and the quiet fuck that escapes his lips.

“Goddamn Eddie…” Steve palms the frankly obscene bulge in his pants and stalks closer like a lion waiting to pounce. “Take your fucking pants off.”

Say less, good lord.

Eddie unfastens his belt, pops the button on his jeans, and slides the zipper down. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, he pulls everything off in one go and leans back of his elbows, spreading his legs as they dangle off the edge of the bed. His dick is hard enough to cut a fucking diamond at this point, and rests thick and heavy on his stomach. The rest of him might be skinny, but his cock sure isn’t.

Steve bites his lip and steps between Eddie’s thighs. “God, look at you. I don’t even know where to start.”

Eddie spreads his legs further and lifts his feet, planting them on the mattress. “Do you want to open me up, or watch me finger myself?”

“Fuck. Can I?”

He wishes he could think of something smooth to say, but Eddie Munson is not a smooth man. “Steve, let me be as clear as I can. You could hit me with your fucking truck and I’d thank you for it. You have my full and enthusiastic consent to do whatever you want to me.”

Steve ducks his head as he snorts out a laugh. “Jesus, you’re ridiculous. Heard you loud and clear. If anything changes though, tell me and I’ll stop.”

Eddie nods once and Steve reaches over to his night stand, pulling out a bottle of lube and a gold foil packet with black font. He fucking knew it. He didn’t even have to see Steve out of those bulky firefighter pants to know he was hiding a fucking hog in there.

He lubes up his fingers and braces himself on the bed with a hand next to Eddie’s bicep. Leaning down until their noses are almost touching, a few locks of hair fall over his eyes. He looks at Eddie intensely for a moment before closing the distance and plunges his tongue into Eddie’s mouth just as a slick finger slides in. Eddie’s hands find their way into Steve’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. He moans and writhes beneath this unfairly beautiful man as his body opens up willingly for him.

Steve is three fingers deep and just barely teasing his prostate when Eddie can’t take it anymore. He pulls away from that delicious mouth with a gasp. “Steve, for the love of all that is holy, get your fucking pants off now!”

Eddie makes a truly pathetic sound when those thick fingers ease their way out. Steve stands and hastily undoes his jeans and Eddie clenches around nothing when he sees how the denim is stretched to its limits. He loses sight of it when Steve bends to push the material down to his ankles and rids himself of his pants, boxer briefs, and socks. He straightens up and Eddie makes some kind of noise between a scoff and moan when he gets a full view of Steve’s dick.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” It’s fucking gorgeous. Long, thick, veins spreading up the flushed shaft, and beautifully uncut. Steve gives himself a few strokes and Eddie salivates at the view of the dark red head peeking out. He wants it in his mouth.

“Next time. I need to fuck you now or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Shit, he said that out loud didn’t he? Doesn’t matter. The promise of next time lights him up like the 4th of July.

Steve grabs the foil packet off the bed and tears it open with his teeth, which is admittedly, very fucking hot. He rolls the condom down the length of the veritable fire hose he had hiding in his Levi’s and slicks himself up with a little more lube.

Eddie is so excited he’s shaking.

The bed is at the perfect height where Steve can stay right where he is, and he grabs Eddie’s hips and yanks him forward. Oh fuck, this is gonna be great. Steve keeps his grip with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Eddie’s stretched out ass. As he starts to ease the tip inside, Eddie’s eyes roll back and he lets out a desperate whine. Steve is going slow and letting him adjust as he pushes into Eddie’s body, but he’s so fucking ready for this that he just wants him to plow his ass as fast as possible.

Steve finally bottoms out and Eddie feels so full he can barely breathe. God, he needed this. Steve stills for a few beats, gently soothing his hands up and down Eddie’s thighs. It’s soft and sweet, and while he appreciates it and how it makes him feel kind of…cared for, he really needs this guy to hurry up and rail him.

“Tell me when you’re ready, honey.”

Eddie looks up at him and realizes he’s been panting like a dog. He nods vigorously and tells Steve, “I’m ready. Let me have it.”

The first thrust is hard and fast, and immediately knocks the breath out of him. And it doesn’t stop. Right out of the gate, his pace is unrelenting and Eddie could die happy just like this. He’s so fucking deep it doesn’t seem like it should even be possible. The entire bed is shaking with Steve’s efforts as he pounds away. He grabs Eddie’s thighs and pushes them up, and yeah that’s the spot. A horribly slutty moan leaves his throat as his prostate is nailed head-on with each snap of Steve’s hips.

“Goddamn look how well you take it. You’re so tight, honey. Fuck you feel good.”

Yes, I do, keep going, never stop, you feel so fucking good too, don’t ever take your dick out of me.

Thoughts spin around Eddie’s head but all that comes out of his mouth is, “Ah, ah, ah!”

Without warning, Steve pulls out and Eddie could fucking scream he’s so mad. But then those big hands are flipping him over and his face is buried in the comforter as Steve lifts his hips and the mattress dips behind him. Just as fast as it was taken away, Steve’s cock slides right back in where it belongs and Eddie screams into the sheets. Steve doesn’t miss a beat, and Eddie’s holding on for dear life as his ass gets absolutely pounded. In such a contrasting feeling to Steve’s brutal thrusts, Eddie feels fingers gently glide down his spine.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. These tattoos. So fucking hot.”

Again, Eddie can’t form words, and just groans and drools onto the bed. He’s never been fucked this well in his life. He knows his dick has got to be a dripping mess as Steve ruts into him, but he’s got a white knuckle grip on the comforter and can’t bear letting go to find out.

Eddie’s quickly losing his control and feels himself rocketing towards what he knows is going to be a crazy orgasm. But just as he feels like he might be right there, Steve changes it up again. He doesn’t pull out this time, thank Christ, but he stills his hips and grinds himself as deep as he can. Which is pretty fucking deep, the guy is hung. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s chest and stomach and pulls him up from the mattress. Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to try processing what’s going on. Suddenly he’s being lifted from the bed, with Steve’s dick still buried inside him, spun around, and seated on the man’s lap as he perches on the edge of the bed.

Eddie’s weight settles and he’s given a moment to catch his breath before Steve starts bucking up into him. He feels spread open and put on display like this, and it’s hands down the sexiest he’s ever felt. His thighs are spread wide over Steve’s thick legs, his back is arched, head tipped back on his shoulder and arms stretched behind him to grip onto any part of Steve he can reach. His cock bobs up and down with every thrust and he’s right on that edge of release again.

Steve’s hand drifts down his stomach and gets a hold of Eddie’s dick, giving it a little squeeze before it starts moving. His lips trail up and down Eddie’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “Steve…fuck I’m gonna cum!”

“Let go, honey. Wanna feel you grip my dick.”

Steve bites at his neck, and Eddie shouts as it feels like his whole body is exploding. White ropes of cum shoot out over Steve’s fist, landing on his stomach, his thigh, Steve’s thigh, the fucking floor. It’s everywhere and feels like it’s never going to stop. Steve is groaning into his shoulder and his thrusts start to slow down as Eddie struggles to catch his breath. His ears are ringing. His heart is racing. And Steve is still moving.

“Is it too much? You want me to stop?”

Eddie isn’t exactly fully online at the moment, but he thought by the sounds coming from Steve that they came at the same time. By the feeling of the still rock hard cock slowly moving inside him, Steve’s not done yet. And like hell is Eddie going to tell him to stop.

“No. Keep going. Want you to fuck me till you cum.”

Steve is the one to whine this time and he starts to pick his pace back up again, holding Eddie tight to his chest. He’s definitely moving into overstimulation territory, but he’s no stranger to it. He’s had plenty of solo sessions with his dildos trying to see how many times he could make himself cum in one night. He can handle this.

“Gonna move you again, honey. Been too long since I kissed you.”

Eddie is lifted once again and Steve turns them around, depositing him face down on the mattress and pulling out. He isn’t empty for long. Steve effortlessly flips him onto his back, crawls over him, wraps Eddie’s legs around his waist and slips his cock back in. The moan that tries to escape Eddie’s lips is swallowed up by Steve as he seals their mouths together in a filthy kiss. He grips onto Steve’s back and can really feels those muscles ripple as he fucks Eddie hard and fast.

The fantasy of him being tossed around and used like a cocksleeve is nothing compared to the reality of it. It’s so so fucking good. This gorgeous man is kissing him and fucking him so well that Eddie is in danger of falling in love with him before the night is over. His cock has filled out again already and that pleasure pain is so exquisite he doesn’t want it to end.

Steve breaks their heated kisses and moves Eddie’s legs from around his waist, then hooks his arms under them behind Eddie’s knees. “Wrap your arms around my neck. Need you to hold on tight, ok?”

Eddie nods like a bobblehead and does what he’s told. He’s completely unprepared for what happens next.

In a show of Steve’s strength, he stands from the bed, his cock still thick and hard in Eddie’s ass. Eddie yelps and holds on tight. And Steve just…starts thrusting. Standing there in the middle of his bedroom, bouncing Eddie on his cock as he hangs off of the guy’s neck.

Fuck the fireman carry, this is insane.

“Jesus Christ Steve! This is so fucking hot! Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”

He grunts as he picks up his pace, driving himself hard and fast into Eddie’s slick hole. “Not gonna stop. Not till you cum again. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yeah,” Eddie pants. “Yeah, I’m close. Fuck, Steve! Your cock is so big! Can feel you in my throat!”

Steve grins and Eddie wants to lick the sweat beading on his face. “You were made to take it, honey. Wanna feel you cum again. Come on, baby. Make a mess. I’m right there with you.”

Eddie resists holding anything back and practically sobs as his second orgasm rips through him. He clenches down on Steve’s cock, and that’s all the man seemed to be waiting for. Steve rabbits his hips, pinches his eyes shut, and his mouth drops open with a long, low groan as his dick pulses inside Eddie, filling the condom that he wishes wasn’t there.

Finally, Steve slows to a stop and just holds Eddie up, gasping and licking his dry lips. When he opens his eyes, Eddie uses his grasp around Steve’s neck to pull himself closer and lick into his mouth.

He’s trembling and feels half out of his mind when the world tips and he's gently laid back down on the bed. Steve lets go of his legs and cups his face, kissing him deep and dirty while settling his weight down on Eddie’s spent body. The kisses slow until they’re just tender pecks on his lips.

“Eddie…oh my god. That was insane.”

His entire body is buzzing and words are a little difficult at the moment. All he can do is nod and squeak out a little uh huh. He basks in the afterglow as his heart rate comes back down to normal and kisses are placed all over his neck and jaw and cheeks. He’s not even remotely bothered by the cum that’s cooling between them. If it ends up gluing them together, he has no complaints.

Eventually, Steve moves to get off the bed and Eddie must make some kind of pathetic sound, because Steve is shushing him and telling him he’ll be right back. His soft cock slips out and Eddie’s never felt so hollow in his life. He doesn’t know how much time passes, it could be a minute, it could be a day, but at some point Steve returns and a warm washcloth is wiping him down. There’s a rustling and Eddie’s eyes pop open when he’s being lifted again and Steve is moving him to lay his head on a pillow. It’s so fucking sweet Eddie feels his teeth ache.

Steve gets in bed beside him and pulls the covers up over them. He’s manhandled again until Steve is curled against his back as the big spoon. Eddie definitely wasn’t expecting cuddles with this big, muscular firefighter, but he is fucking delighted by it. He hums with contentment and lets out a long sigh.

“You feeling ok, honey?”

He can’t help grinning at the little pet name. “I feel amazing. That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had. I’m gonna be feeling you for days sweetheart.”

More kisses are peppered on his shoulder and neck. “Good. Would hate to have you forget me.”

“Steve. Seriously? How could I possibly forget that? Besides you uh…said next time so…I was kind of hoping I’d see you again.”

The big arms wrapped around him squeeze tighter and his dick twitches as the thought of how fucking strong this guy is. “Of course I want to see you again. Throw you around and wring some more of those pretty sounds out of you.” There’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it type of hesitancy in his tone and thankfully Steve doesn’t leave him wondering about it for too long. “So I don’t want to make this awkward, since we’re naked in my bed and all, but um…I’m not really a hookup kind of guy. Not in the habit of bringing home cute teachers just to get laid…”

Eddie can tell this is going somewhere and there’s no denying the excitement he feels as he waits for Steve to find the words he needs. “I’m not really good at…casual. Sort of all or nothing. If that’s not your thing, that’s totally fine. I just wanted to be upfront I guess.”

This is exactly what he was hoping to hear. Eddie’s kind of in the same boat. He hasn’t really been into the gay hookup culture for a while and his little domestic nights in would be infinitely better if he had someone to share them with. No shade to Chrissy and their date nights, but it’s just not the same as having a man to hold him…and kiss him…and maybe throw him around a bit. The last thing he could have ever expected to get out of a field trip with his students was the potential of a new boyfriend.

He turns around in Steve’s arms so they’re nose to nose, tangles their legs together, and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “It’s absolutely my thing. I don’t do casual either. Haven't for a long time. So if you want to give this a shot…I’m ready to rock.”

Steve grins back and kisses him. "Ready to roll."

One year later…

“Mac and cheese!”

“Everybody freeze!”

“Hocus Pocus!”

“Time to focus!”

“Yakety Yak?”

“Don’t talk back!”

“Nice job, friends! I need you all to put your pencils and notebooks away and line up for music class.”

A knock at his classroom door draws his attention, along with 26 sets of little eyes. His face breaks out into a big dopey smile at the sight of his boyfriend leaning against the doorway in his navy t-shirt and Levi’s. Eddie crosses the room and has to stifle a giggle when some of the students wave with their whole arms and shout, “Hi Fireman Steve!”

“What are you doing here, sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Steve lifts his hand and presents Eddie with his insulated bag. “You forgot your lunch again. I’m starting to think you do it on purpose just so you can see me during the day.”

He doesn’t, sometimes his brain just wanders and he forgets stuff, but maybe he should start doing that if it means he can steal a kiss in the hallway from time to time. He takes the bag from Steve’s hand and glances over his shoulder. His students are occupied following his instructions and putting their shit away, so he pushes Steve back a couple feet out of the doorway.

“Thanks baby. Got a kiss for me before you go?”

“Always.”

Eddie leans in and presses his lips to Steve’s, maybe lingering a little too long because fuck it, his boyfriend is gorgeous and he’ll take any chance he can to kiss him.

“OOOooooOOOOoohhhh!”

A chorus of giggling oohing third graders interrupts them and he leans back into the doorway and snaps his fingers. “Line up for music class, my little monsters!” He watches just long enough to make sure they do as they say, and turns back to Steve. “Fajitas for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, I should be home by 7, unless there’s any emergencies.”

Eddie sneaks one more quick kiss. “Ok. Be safe, baby. I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” He pokes his head through the door and waves at the class. “Bye guys! Be bad!”

His class erupts into laughter and shouts back, “Bye Fireman Steve!”

Eddie shakes his head as he watches his boyfriend strut down the hallway. He’s so glad he took his class to the fire station last year. It really was the best field trip ever.

Thank you for reading! Liking, commenting, and reblogging makes writers do a happy dance!

@mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @watermelonmite @micheledawn1975 @airen256 @micheledawn1975

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie au #modern steddie #steddie smut #steddie fic #firefighter steve #teacher eddie #they fall hard and they fall fast #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #buckingham

310 notes · View notes

study-diaries · 4 months ago

Text

How To Study For Longer Hours

These are some of my tips that I used for studying for longer hours during my junior and senior year in high school. I generally studied 4 heavy content subjects and 2 languages. And, yes, i did get good grades.

Studying is a task that requires you to be consistent and driven. That is why, I want to make one thing very clear. This is not a promotion of toxic studying when you feel too tired.

I will start with a simple process that i formed.

Work => Compensation => Repeat.

Quality Matters

By quality I mean. One hour spending time recalling facts and answering questions and filling gaps is better than 5 hours of reviewing notes. Just focus on improving your focus and methods. I call it the "FM Method"

You choose one specific method, and you consistently follow it for a specific period.

Longer Hours Should Not Exceed 5

If you have to study for long hours, don't let it exceed 5 hours. The reason is simple. It's useless, and your body will drain up and use all your energy. I used to study for 9 hours some days in my junior year. Now i study only for 3-4 hours every day. The results? Practically the same. My grades didn't drop but i feel more motivated to study and complete everything.

So, don't extend the hours you study. Make your focus and methods better.

20 Second Breaks

When you complete a topic, small or big. Just close your eyes for 20-30 seconds and lean back on your chair and calm your breathing. Process the information. Let everything sink in. Take out the tension. DO NOT TAKE YOUR PHONE. And then after those 20-30 seconds, just glance through the topic before moving to the next one. So, take 20 second breaks.

Active Studying > Passive Studying

This is the same thing i spoke before. Use active methods of studying. Active recall and filling gaps, visual representation, learning through stories and mnemonics.

Passive studying is when you learn through notes, repeating things over and over again, trying to memorize instead of learning and understanding the concepts.

One hour of active studying is better than 5 hours of passive studying.

Rewards

When you complete an hour or two, give yourself a small reward. But the reward should be as productive as your time spent. If you spent the last two hours studying and then you watch 3 hours of your favourite tv show then that is not a good reward.

A reward should actually compensate, you need you calm your brain, not indulge yourself in instant dopamine hits.

Actual Rest

A reward is different from rest.

Rest is essential for your body. Sleep is the body's soother. You used your brain for hours and if you don't let it rest than definitely it doesn't matter how well you're actually studying. You. Will. Feel. Tired.

Burnout Effect

In one way, burnout is good. Honestly, some people's highest point is 30 mins or an hour. They find burnout creeping in after some time had passed. And that is why, if you want to reach at least two hours of studying. You need to push that limit. Every single time. Try moving 30 mins every week. Your max limit is 1 hour. Then this week, study for 1 hr 30 mins. The next week, study for 2hrs. then 2hr 30 mins. Do it for a few weeks.

If you don't push yourself to the max limit. Then you'll never actually reach your goal.

Consistency

This is an indefinite rule. You want to improve your grades. Do it every day.

Your work ethic and your willingness to stick to habits will determine your success.

Make a "Your" Environment.

This is a very underrated thing; you must have a "you" environment. It doesn't matter what it is. Basically a "you" environment is whenever you're there, you're motivated to do work. It doesn't have to be a place really. Another example would be, whenever i'm on my phone, i'm likely to waste my time doing unnecessary things but whenever i'm on my laptop, i'm automatically in "work" mode. So, for you it might be your study desk or even school sometimes.

(I remember, during the last 2 months in senior year, i used to go to the very corner of my classroom, sit on the ground, face the wall, put my headphones on, placed my bag in front of me as a table and just solve accountancy sums because that place was my "work" environment. Honestly, it looked so weird but whenever i was there, my focus was just amazing)

Additional Posts That Might Be Helpful:

Study Trick That No One Told Me How To Use Previous Year Papers Tips To Understand Complex Topics Small Things To Get Additional Points In Exams Questioning Method

Hope This Helps!! :)

339 notes · View notes

sanjisblackasswife · 1 year ago

Text

Gojo Hearing “I Love You” for the First Time

I gen. have no clue if anywhere in the series anybody has said they loved gojo. Whether platonic or not. Its interesting and I was just thinking.

CW: Mentions of Gojo’s Past(some canon some not…so spoilers ig if you haven’t read the inventory arc), Established Relationship, Mentioned Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Some Angst(?), Soft Gojo, Reader speaks Spanish, Kisses

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

“AND THAT’S WHY I DO NOT LIKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!..IT WAS VOMIT EVERYWHERE!”

“Can’t believe you managed to eat 6 boxes of cookies in one sitting.”

“Hey! Don’t judge it was a marathon of Digimon playing all day…good times. Not as good as the time—“

And there he goes again, your big over 6’6” boyfriend laying on his back on the couch having another yap fest after a long trip. It started off with a quiet evening of you both eating and watching a childhood movie to then actually sharing stories of your past.

You really couldn’t be more enamored by how excited Satoru gets when he speaks to you. His smile is wide from ear to ear and his dimples grow deeper. He’s also so expressive with his hand gestures you really don’t know where to look as you lay comfortable on his big broad chest.

Usually when he begins to speak about his life before you, you try to absorb and savor every moment. Since your friendship in high school Gojo wasn’t much of a talker (ironically) about his life, but as you both grown closer since his big mission with Geto to watch over Riko he managed to get a bit more comfortable with telling you more about himself.

It’s been 11 years since then and after some therapy sessions with you, Geto, and Gojo three of you managed to learn how to express yourselves in a healthier way with each other.

You watch now, almost 1 year into your official relationship with him and noticed he doesn’t talk much about his parents. Nor an adult in his life that was like a parent to him at the very least. Even when in High School you never met his family. You knew of his clan and that was all.

You always wondered where did he get his wild energy from? His dad? Where did he become so affectionate through touch? His mom? It was all a mystery you wanted to understand.

You’ve even asked Geto, his closest best friend what does he know about his mom and dad, but he always ends with “It’s better you wait until he tells you himself.”

You didn’t question it more, you respected the decision so thats exactly why you’re here. Watching and listening attentively to what your boyfriend has to say. It makes you happy seeing how much he has grown more comfortable towards you towards the years.

“And when I was 8 I remember my folks always gave me free range to use my technique whenever to practice, but boy they regretted after an hour because I—-baby.”

Without noticing your eyes blinked back at him as if you began to come back to reality again, Gojo seen the relaxed look you given him as he spoke, how your eyes were on his, but he just knew you—

“‘ not even listeninggguhhhh.”

Putting your thumbs on his pouty bottom lip, they’re so soft you smile at him, it wasn’t really something you’d expect to say to him, but his pretty big smile, his deepened dimples, everything about him caught you in a moment of venerability you just decided to softly speak at him;

“I love you.”

…just like that it was a pause.

It just slipped off the tongue. You meant it, but finally saying it out loud was a bit of a shock to not just you, but more Satoru. He had an unreadable look on his face, almost as if he didn’t catch what you said, but he definitely did. He couldn’t miss the way his body tensed up hearing those three words.

“What?”

Gojo didn’t say anything, almost as if it was a staring contest you rise from his chest to straddle him, “Are you okay?”

You jumped feeling the pads of his thumb dig into the fattiness of your hips, almost as if he were trying to massage you….very painfully. He got up though, placing you down on the couch and walking to the nearest bathroom without saying a word or looking at you. You could’ve sworn he wiped his face momentarily.

“Go—?”

He didn’t mean to, it was almost a reflex. Your words though, kept replaying in his head . He felt a bit silly being so dramatic , ironically but he couldn’t properly process what you said.

“Satoru?” You knock on the door breaking him away from his thoughts, “You okay, papa? I—oh.”

He opened the door, putting back on his eye mask and giving you one of the fakest smiles you ever seen him do.

“What are you doing, you okay?”

“yeah yeah I’m fineeeee. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“W-wait!” You playfully scoff at his eagerness as he pulls you to the front door, “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I know it was sudden and random, but I meant it.”

Gojo turns and exhales, clearing his throat he begins to scratch the back of his head, you can tell he is scrambling for words so you continue; “I do love you Satoru. A lot. I think I always have since we were younger, but I don’t know…today made me realize I should verbalize it.”

He wants to speak, but for one of the first times you left him wanting to just listen to you. Honestly you took advantage of it because who knows when you’ll be able to get him this quiet.

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I love the way you explain things, I love the way you are, I love the way you care, I love how you can get on my nerves.” You ends the last part with a giggle making him finally chuckle with you, and he brings you closer to his chest. “I love you, Satoru. You are an amazing person and I am very blessed to have you as not only a friend but a partner.”

It was all too much, he felt overwhelmed he had to lift his mask to wipe the tears welling on the side of his eyes, he chuckles again, the free hand on your waist tightening, “Well damn if I didn’t know better I’d think you have a crush on me.”

You laugh, “Maybeeee…..Now. “ You smooch his cheek before grabbing your phone, “Let’s go get some food—-“

You tried walking past him towards the door but he grabs you from behind to hug you close, you can hear his shallow breaths in your ear. You’re used to his tight squeezes from behind but this one was firm. Almost as if he let you go you’ll fly away.

“Say it again.”

You smirk, his voice quivering but trying to be masked by a fake pouting tone, “I love you, Satoru.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again, but in Spanish.”

“Oh brother.”

“C’mon you sound hot when speaking Spanish.”

“Te amaré para siempre, Satoru…”

If words could explain how he felt right now with you, the closest would be a weight being lifted off his shoulders. For a moment he no longer was Gojo the strongest sorcerer, he was Satoru.

Just Satoru.

Something he wanted to be for a long time, and now you are helping him take the first step into that.

You inhale his scent; mint, expensive cologne and his natural musky smell you love so much and rub his head as he is still buried in your neck. You turn to face him and grab his cheeks, almost hesitantly to cup them because you weren’t sure if he’d left you see him cry. Though you felt your shoulder dampen.

However he let you, his big blue eyes surrounded by a tint of pink, he tried laughing it off and he actually broke eyes contact with you, “I …um…heh..fuck—“

You knew what he was trying to say but you don’t force him, instead you place your lips on his, you felt him exhale, his body relaxing in your touch, “I know, Satoru. I know.”

Gojo couldn’t properly register why he was so overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling right now but he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world. He honestly wanted to replay the moment you said you loved him on repeat all day.

Later that day you both go out and have your own last minute date for the evening, he wanted so badly to tell you he loves you back by trying to incorporate more of the word “love “ in his vocabulary, by saying things like “I know you LOVE this.” Or “Wouldnt you LOVE for me to take you here.” but it was hard and he sounded silly.

Satoru wanted so badly to tell you he doesn’t just love you, but he has fallen IN love with you.

Gojo finally found just one more person that gave him something he didn’t realize he needed;

To feel human.

1K notes · View notes

batsandbirdbrains · 7 days ago

Note

Currently obsessed with your YJ bullying robin fics. They hurt so good was wondering if you got anything else for me to dive into

Hmmmhmm WELL I’ve been on a kick with making him 11 at the beginning of season 1 so maybe let’s roll with that scenario

And bc I think the drama works best when no one knows who Batman and Robin are outside the mask, we’re gonna make it so Wally doesn’t know either. I know he does in canon but were ignoring that and also making them not be best buds bc it helps with not convenience ANYWAY

I ALSO saw a comic panel from like golden age Batman and Robin where Dick celebrated his 8th birthday at the manor with Bruce, which MEANS it makes perfect sense in canon to have him start living with Bruce and being Robin when he’s 7 😌 love that for me it works so well with my tiny gremlin Robin agenda.

So with all that established let’s move on to our regularly scheduled bullying

We have Dick, the most seasoned member of the team, the most experienced, the one all the JL members know and love and actually sort of respect. And he’s also the youngest. By a lot. So naturally, most of the others can’t stand him on principle.

And that really means our usual suspects: Artemis, Wally, and M’gann. Because I like exploring the friendship dynamics between Dick, Kaldur, and Conner. And because I just cant see Kaldur bullying a kid I really can’t. I can bend the personalities of the other three to make it sort of plausible but Kaldur’s just so nice.

So you have Dick maybe doing like normal eleven year old boy things when they’re all at Mount Justice before training. He’s sitting in the lounge area with Conner. Conner has the TV on, sitting in the couch, and Dick is sitting on the floor with like 5 Tech Decks on the coffee table. All the boys in his class are obsessed with them right now. It’s a total fad. Bruce bought him like fifty when he said he wanted them, and these are his five favorite. He’s practicing his flips with them. He’s going to show off to all his little middle school friends tomorrow at lunch.

Conner is absently fiddling with one that Dick have him. It has SpongeBob on the bottom. Dick has been teaching Conner everything he needs to know about pop culture, and SpongeBob was first on the list. Conner loves both the cartoon and the silly little skateboard Dick gave him.

Dick is just about to ask Conner if he wants to learn how to do a flip with it when the one he’d been playing with is yanked from his hand, and he turns to see it flying across the room to M’gann’s hand. She and Artemis and are standing together, and Artemis snatches it from her and starts scoffing.

“Hey!” he complains. “Give it back!”

“Are you seriously playing with these things?” Artemis scoffs, twisting it between her fingers. “God, all the middle school boys are obsessed with these things. You really are just a little dork, aren’t you?”

She and M’gann start giggling, and then Artemis snaps it in half.

“Oops,” she mocks, holding a hand to her mouth.

“Why would you do that?” Conner asks her, his eyes narrowed.

“It was an accident,” she insists. “Guess I don’t know my own strength. Surely you understand that?”

She and M’gann leave quickly, still giggling. Dick stands up in a huff and stomps over to pick up the two pieces. He looks down at them in his palm with a frown on his face.

“You can have this one back,” Conner tries to offer, but Dick smiles at him and shakes his head.

“No, I brought that for you. It’s okay, I have more at home.”

He goes back to sit at the coffee table, but Conner can hear him whisper to himself, “That was my favorite one,” as he looks down at the two pieces.

It had a Superman design on the bottom. It was one of the first ones Bruce got him when he mentioned wanting them. But he tucks all the tech decks, including the two broken halves, into his backpack. He’ll superglue it back together when he gets home. He won’t use it again, but he can keep it with his other knick knacks in his room.

It’s little things like that that start getting to Dick. Making fun of the things he likes. Making fun of the shows he introduces Conner to (mostly cartoons). Making fun of the way he does his hair. Making fun of the things he says he’s studying for school.

Calling him a child. Calling him dumb. Calling him a baby. Calling him weird.

Purposely excluding him from so-called team bonding activities because they claim he’s too young.

Because eleven is apparently too young to go to a bonfire on the beach.

He does his best to ignore it though. He focuses on the mission. Working with the team is one step closer to being in the Justice League. He wants to prove to Bruce that he’d be a good member when he’s older. That he’d make Bruce proud.

But then the Failsafe training simulation happens.

Dick wakes up from it in a haze. He thinks he’s dead, he thinks he’s just been blown up, he thinks everyone he loved had already been killed.

He thinks that once he became leader, M’gann and Wally abandoned him and Conner because they refused to take orders from someone younger than them. Even though Kaldur left Dick in charge. Even though Dick had a clear plan. Even though Martian Manhunter agreed with said plan.

Dick spent what he thought were his last moments entirely alone on an alien mothership, blowing it up with himself inside, because he thought that would save everyone. He thought, if M’gann and Wally were still out there, that this would help them survive and defeat whatever the alien threat was.

So when he wakes up and sees the team, he’s disoriented. He was expecting the afterlife to be different.

When Batman kneels in front of him, he’s confused about why Bruce is in the cowl in the afterlife. But maybe that’s what he wants to look like. Dick’s not going to question it. But he will question something far more important.

“Where are Mama and Pa?”

Even with the cowl on, Dick can see the way Bruce’s face falls. He doesn’t pay attention to how the room has gone silent. He doesn’t care. He only wants to know where to go to find his parents.

“Robin,” Bruce says softly, and Dick feels his stomach drop.

“Am I in hell?”

He’s starting to panic, and Bruce grabs both his hands and squeezes.

“No, no,” Bruce says quickly. “Everything’s fine.”

“Then where are they?”

“Robin, you’re not dead,” Bruce says, his voice gentle, quiet. “It was a training simulation. A psychic one, that went very very wrong. But it wasn’t real.”

Dick’s brain freezes. It goes totally blank. He can hear people start to talk around him, but he can’t make sense of the words.

Then he falls forward against Bruce’s chest and hides his face in his shoulder.

“I wanna go home.”

Bruce takes him home without any questions, no hesitation. He doesn’t argue that they need to stay, or that they need to debrief or write a report. Dick says he wants to go home, so he takes him home.

And then a week later, he’s back at the Mountain only to have the usual three making fun of how he says mama and pa and it makes him see red. They’re making fun of how he says mama like he’s a French snob but he says pa like a country bumpkin.

But Dick has spent the last week panicking and crying and spiraling over the fact he thought he was dead, he thought he sent Conner to his death, he thought he saw everyone around him die, he thought he was going to get to see his parents again only to have it ripped away from him.

He’s not in the mood for this shit.

So he pins them all to the wall with his birdarangs. They beep like the ones that explode, and he watches with concealed glee as they scream when they think their heads are about to be blown off.

“Oopsie,” he mocks. “My hand must’ve slipped. Guess I just can’t control myself. Surely you understand that.”

It’s a thinly veiled dig at M’gann’s lack of control that fucked up the simulation in the first place. From the look on her face, she fully understood it was aimed at her.

He goes back to the Batcave immediately after. He no longer has the desire to work on a team that he doesn’t trust.

Maybe Bruce will start sending him on missions with just Kaldur and Conner, instead.

#asks #anon #dick grayson #fic prompt #got a little carried away and didn’t rly focus on the bullying oops

213 notes · View notes

cripplecharacters · 4 months ago

Note

Do you have tangible advice on *how* to research different disabilities for writing? How to find specific blogs beyond searching the name of the disability on Tumblr, forums, websites with good info, etc? I see a lot of advice that is basically just "research the disability and talk to people who have it" but with how Google has gone down in quality, I'm not sure where to look beyond the surface level info (plus how to find people with the disability who are willing to share niche details/answer really specific situational questions). Thank you for everything you do on this blog!

Hey!

I'd say that you should break the research process into a few steps.

First, figure out what you should actually look into. Think about the genre, intended audience, and role of the character. A background character in a comedy meant for elementary school kids and a main character in an adult romantic novel will have two different approaches. You don't have to (and probably shouldn't) overdo a character that doesn't need it - otherwise it can end up feeling like some sort of disability awareness PSA, and that's probably not what you want.

With that in mind, you can start the actual research. I think that the websites of organizations/foundations for people with that specific disabilities are the best, since they cover a lot of things from many different angles. They are also usually written in simpler language than medical websites (which are also great, but I get that not everyone can understand those, not everyone's fluent in English, etc.) and have more tangible advice for "how to function with XYZ" essentially. It also can give you a glimpse of what your character could specifically struggle with, especially in case of a recent disability - medical pages often won't talk about insurance problems, interpersonal issues, or actually coping with the new state one's body is in. Check the FAQs, or the most commonly visited pages, stuff like that to get an idea on what's important. For example, these are some of the most concise explanations of how someone with a complete spinal cord injury at a specific level might function and what they might need. Something like this can be a good start to figure out where your characters "is", so to speak.

Some organizations for common disabilities might also have some sort of "media representation" page that's made specifically for writers. UK's Down Syndrome Association has one, Face Equality International has one, Phoenix Society has one, US Foundation for the Blind has one, etc.

This alone is more research than the vast majority of writers bother to do. If you actually understand:

what the disability is,

what symptoms it has,

how those affect your character in day-to-day life,

how to avoid the most common offensive stereotypes,

you are doing better than a lot of published writers, to be honest.

Okay, but what can you do to make it even better:

Since at this step you know what symptoms your character has and which ones you will actually show to the audience, you can start researching them one by one.

Here you might have to go read some medical studies, and learning how to get information out of those is a skill that needs some practice. But it is necessary to figure out if your blind character's vision loss is more likely to be total with no light perception or 20/200 (and, to figure out if your character's eye condition even causes blindness... because I've seen "blind characters" who are blind from eye conditions that... do not cause vision loss) so that you can actually research appropriate accommodations or aids.

Knowing specific symptoms will be even more helpful if your character's disability isn't very common - symptoms are very rarely tied to just a single disability, and you might have more luck researching a completely different one. For example, if you can't find info on something related to being a unilateral arm amputee, try searching for solutions that hemiplegics use. Not all will apply, but a lot of this stuff will be the same.

Make sure you understand what you do or don't do with those symptoms. There might be treatments, there might be some lifestyle changes to be done, there might be some strict limitation that you will have to put on your character for them to make sense. I think it's better to fit the character concept to the symptoms that you want and not the other way around - if you do the latter, you might find yourself writing an essentially abled character or a disabled character that is just inconsistent. Not every disability will be compatible with every role or concept, and there's really no point in trying to put us literally everywhere. If you really can't find a solution for something you need the character to do, it might mean that there just isn't one.

Once you figure out the technical stuff and have all the "dry" information laid out, start seeking the real life equivalents. Start widely at first so that you can narrow it down later, not the other way around (unless you don't mind changing the character around a lot). If you have already done a lot of technical research before, you will have more specific questions (which are easier to answer than "how do I write a disabled character").

Look up daily vlogs and day-in-a-life videos on youtube from people with that disability (and don't be afraid of only very-low views count videos popping up as that's almost inevitable - there are very few big disability youtubers, so try giving the smaller ones a chance). Watch interviews where people with that condition explain how their daily life is, how their disability affects it. SBSK is one of the best IMO. Check out AMAs on Reddit. Read personal blogs (you can generally find some by just putting "living with Name of Disability blog" into search). There's a ton of people who sincerely want to help others understand the realities of living with their disability and name their stuff accordingly so that it's easy to find.

At this stage you should have a decent idea of how the disability affects your character both in the technical sense, and in the more practical one.

Try to write out their average daily routine - from how they get up in the morning to when they go to sleep. Try to actively think "how would they do it" - how would they get from their bed and into their wheelchair, how would they dress up, how would they commute to work, how would they communicate with others, how would they get from point A to point B. If you realize that you're suddenly stuck, you now have a specific question ("how to put on pants with no hands", "how do totally blind people use computers", "shower accommodations C5 SCI", whatever) which is much easier to research than just a vague awareness of Not Knowing how your character functions in general. All of these questions have been asked before - newly disabled people will be going through them in their real life, and they use the same search engines and same social media as everyone else.

If you get this far, you're doing quite great! I'd say that this is enough effort to make a good and complex disabled character that's important in the story, though maybe not the POV character.

For a POV character, if you aren't disabled, you probably need a sensitivity reader/consultant.

There are a lot of those in writing spaces already - a lot of disabled people write themselves. If you just drop a "I need a sensitivity reader for XYZ" and use the general writing tags, there's a high chance you will get a response (assuming the XYZ in question isn't something very rare and/or so severe it would prevent someone from using the internet in general).

You can also try the disability's tag (don't get discouraged if it's not used a lot, a lot of people lurk without posting anything themselves) since you're looking for a real person and intending to pay them (very different from abled writers randomly posting their blorbos in disability tags).

Some of the places where you can try looking are r/SensitivityReaders, WritingDiversely, FireflyCreativeWriting, even sites like Fiverr could work. I've also heard some good things about Facebook writing groups, but I don't have any personal experience with them.

You can also always reach out to an association for people with the kind of disability you need - tell them that you are a writer and are looking to pay a sensitivity reader to help you, and they might be able to refer you to someone who would like to do that.

Another thing would be to keep intersectionality in mind - if your character is disabled, but otherwise part of the majority in every other sense (in NA or most of EU: white, rich, Christian, cisgender, straight, non-immigrant), you will have less things to consider than if your character has the same disability but is also a Polynesian transgender immigrant. If any intersectionality is particularly important to what you're writing, you should include that as well (you can also work with multiple sensitivity readers to try and get as close as possible).

My last advice is to only seek out sensitivity readers if you're able to pay them a fair amount for their work. Don't ask people to work for you for free (which is probably obvious, but a ton of fanfic and whump writers on Tumblr seem completely unaware of this).

Technical tips:

For specifically avoiding AI slop, I recommend putting [before:2023] after whatever question you put in, it will filter all results made after 2022, eliminating 99% of AI nonsense (works for images too).

If you're constantly getting a specific kind of wrong result, use [-ThingYouDon'tWant] after the input, it will remove everything that contains it.

If you're not getting a specific result, put the word you need in quotes ["Word You Need"] and it will force only the results who use that specific phrase/term to appear.

So if you're trying to find a blog about living with quadriplegic cerebral palsy as an adult and can't find any relevant searches by putting just that into the search, try ["cerebral palsy" "blog" quadriplegic -parents -spinal -SCI] and you should get more relevant stuff.

That's how I generally try to approach research for writing and I would say I've had good results (including now). Researching is a skill that requires practice unfortunately, at some point you can simply tell when a resource is bad or good since you've looked at so many already.

Follower input is welcome and encouraged :-)

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #pokegeek151 #meta post #research advice #long post

384 notes · View notes