#we love a professor with no structure to their class

[bucket-of-mold]

Sometimes I'm doing homework and wondering why I'm majoring in bio, and then I go to lab and think "oh yeah, this is why"

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron One Shot

⭐ Republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

PervFrat!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe is your boyfriend… You just don’t know it yet.

🪄 warning (contains spoliers): swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I’m sorry)

✨ “Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. ✨

💋 Part 1 will be from Rafe’s POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s 💋

3.8k

Rafe’s POV:

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.

“I agree.”

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She’s not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can’t wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I’m gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I’m torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She’s a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she’s mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.

“All semester, and you haven’t made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.

“Long game,” he defends himself.

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn’t even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don’t even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I’m gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She’s mine.”

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I’m bigger. He can fight, but he’s not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn’t care less. And he knows it.

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.

“Mine.”

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you’re a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat’s money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I try… But, if we get busted, I’ll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl’s eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts… That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.

I’ll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.

He’s fucking dead.

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy…

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.

I’ll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I’ll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.

My dirty little whore.

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.

“Positive,” I assure.

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I’ll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don’t think I can take this.

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

A/N: Writing Part 2 after Kinktober 💋

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post

@starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[isalisewrites]

A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part One

Welcome to my new series, where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say 'poor writer,' I'm talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the plots of the books.

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Disclaimer for all readers: I'm going to sound very confident in my posts. I'm going to be working under the assumption that I'm a better writer than JKR. Because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You're just witnessing two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn't just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

After years of being beaten down by others, I will no longer tolerate that.

I will be using my writing to compare with hers to make some of my points. Some of what I say in these posts could be considered stylistic choices. However, in my humble opinion, most of this is a difference of skill, which can be learned. Yes, everything I'm going to teach and cover in this series can be learned. There's no 'talent' here. You can learn how to become a better writer right here and now. You only have to understand the craft of writing and sentence structure to better improve your prose and scenes.

I don't have fame and money.

I don't need them to teach you how to write better than JKR.

You're free to disagree with my stances about this and about everything I cover, of course. But if you're a writer, you might gain some insight from this post and I sincerely hope you are enriched by my efforts in this. I spent quite a few hours on this post. Helping others become a better writer than JKR is one of the greatest contributions I can give to society.

Thus, take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

I have stated before: JKR's writing is bloated in the wrong places, underwritten in others, and the prose is poor. These problems show up in all of her HP books.

Buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Let's begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we're going to dissect a page from HP4.

There's so much wrong with this page and the three pages of this scene overall. So much to go over. Bullet points I'll cover from this page:

Disconnected Dialogue Lines

The Great Sin of Adverbs

Too much fucking dialogue!

Wrong focus altogether in this scene

Out of POV writing

First point. This is a huge ongoing issue I see in all of the HP books. There are a lot of disconnected dialogue lines, which become confusing over time. This could be an issue of the publisher, but it's still a problem. In the middle of this page, we have:

Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.

Wait, wait, wait. Who said this? Listen, I know. I know it's Sirius. However, this is an improper placement on the page and can become confusing because Harry also goes by he/him pronouns and he's also in this scene. While the dialogue here suggests Sirius is talking, it could easily be misinterpreted if there were other characters or if he said something that Harry could've just as easily said.

To make this dialogue more clear for the reader, it should go as follows:

Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.

Second point. JKR is an adverb sinner, a criminal. Jail. "Do not pass go; do not collect $200." Arrest her for these blatant crimes, please, for the love of god.

Look, I love adverbs. They're great. Don't fucking listen to anyone who outright demonizes them (including your huffy, uppity literature professors). Adverbs are the seasonings of writing. You season your food; you also need to season your writing when the case asks for it.

However...

Adverbs should always be used sparingly when connected to dialogue tags. The setting in this scene is: Harry is in the Gryffindor Common Room at night crouched in front of the fireplace where Sirius is in the fire in a floo call. I read through the whole scene, though I've only shown one page here.

Harry says a line of dialogue 'slowly' three times and Sirius says a line of dialogue 'slowly' two times.

The same adverb 'slowly' is used FIVE FUCKING TIMES IN THREE PAGES.

I want to scream, not gonna lie here. Set this adverb on fire!

What does this adverb do for us in this conversation? What is so important that we have to be told that five lines of dialogue were said slowly? What do they contribute? Spoiler alert: nothing. What are their facial expressions? Harry is 14. He's exhausted since it's well after 1am or so and he's burdened with the new knowledge of dragons for the first task. He's kneeling in front of a very hot fireplace. There's fire fumes and smoke, potentially. Is he fidgeting? Is he yawning? Rubbing his eyes? Bouncing a leg? Is he picking at the carpet or rug?

Harry is a tired, burdened child.

Show me this!

Now I'm not saying that you can't use adverbs in your dialogue tags. There's a huge difference between "he said softly" and "he whispered." It's about balancing the moment when an adverb says just enough versus an adverb replacing well needed scene enrichment. Let's compare this with a section from my HP time travel fanfiction, Terrible, But Great, Chapter Thirty.

Dumbledore nodded at Monty, pocketing his wand. “Mr. Potter.” “Lo, Professor,” said Monty, pout gone, but still a watchful light in his gaze. “Is there a problem?” asked Dumbledore in a mild tone. Ice slipped in between Tom’s ribs, piercing his flesh. Monty tilted his head. “No, sir.” Oh, but Tom knew better. He could see through that innocent facade. The man could’ve been a Slytherin for how much he was cataloguing every little detail, from Tom’s appearance, to the content of the selected books, and to the supplies of ink, quill, and parchment scattered on the surface of the table. Tom masked the raw, whirling feelings in his chest with a well practiced blank, emotionless expression. He willed himself to hide.  “Nothing at all, sir,” said Tom lightly. “Young Mr. Potter was regaling me about his friendship with Miss Malfoy.” Monty glanced at Tom, brows furrowing. Those blue eyes were piercing, filled with suspicion. “Was he now?” Dumbledore said; though his tone was still without direct accusation, Tom could hear the hint of it. “Then, may I ask, why a silencing charm was necessary for such a benign conversation?” Tom wet his lips. His throat was dry. “I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library.” “I am awfully loud,” said Monty with a sage nod. “Ah. A noble intent. However, it is not an appropriate use of magic in the library,” said Dumbledore, his gaze firm as it bore down on Tom. “Ten points from Slytherin. I think it’d be wise to take your studies to your common room, Mr. Riddle.” “Yes, sir,” whispered Tom.

I only used "said Tom lightly" once in this section to show Tom attempting to be unaffected by Dumbledore's interference. I did not dialogue dump information in giant chunks. I did utilized actions tags versus adverbs, like Monty tilting his head or Tom licking his lips. I suspect that if JKR had written this scene, she'd have used lines like:

"No, sir," said Monty curiously.

or

"I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library," said Tom nervously.

The adverbs that JKR's uses add nothing to her scenes. They're just thrown into them without a thought. Did she even reread this scene after she wrote it? I cringe in agony if I use an uncommon word more than three or four times in an entire 4,000 to 7,000 word chapter, let alone the same adverb five times in three pages. Good grief.

There are two other adverbs used in this page, hastily and bitterly. Hastily does nothing for the scene and is connected to another issue, but I'll go over that in the end. However, bitterly is one of the adverbs I'd keep. It gives us a glimpse into Harry's feelings here. We need more of this, but we got nothing.

Thus, the overuse of adverbs in JKR's dialogue detracts and steals so much from the scene.

Third point: there's too much dialogue and no description whatsoever. Again, the adverbs are a pathetic attempt to give us something, but they're thrown in there without a damn forethought. We're missing the crackle of the fire and the smell of it. We're missing Sirius' facial expressions. We're missing Harry moving around on the floor, fidgeting, yawning, rubbing his eyes, feeling the heat of the fire, bouncing his legs, picking at the rug, something, anything, etc.

The dialogue is bloated with a terribly boring conversation. It's just endless dialogue with nothing else. No, it's awful. Welcome to the fourth bullet point. This scene focuses on the entirely wrong point. This scene is 100% a plot device and it's terribly done as well. It's three pages about Karkaroff being a Death Eater--oh no he might be trying to kill you, Harry, aaaaaa--and something about Bertha Jorkins being near Voldemort's last location. Meh. Who cares. Somebody has been trying to kill Harry in every book thus far. This isn't a new development, sweetie.

We been done know this, okay? Come on.

This is a stilted, unnatural conversation between Harry and Sirius. It's not realistic. It's not normal. Telling Harry about the Karkaroff's past is boring and does nothing for him. One line, maybe two, for Sirius to say, "Hey, keep an eye out for Karkaroff. He's an old Death Eater." Done. End of Karkaroff information. And cut Bertha Jorkins out altogether. I'm sorry, but why the hell are we talking about a dead woman to a 14 year old kid whose biggest problem at the moment is dealing with a jealous friend, school ostracization, and a giant fire breathing lizard???

These points are important to the plot, but they're not important to Harry.

The plot isn't important. No, it's not.

Harry is the POV character.

Harry is the single most important aspect in every scene and should be treated as such.

The plot should weave around Harry, slowly revealing itself to both Harry and the reader. Harry should not be the weaver of the plot. He should not be used in plot devices.

Do you know what part of the conversation was summarized in the prose between Harry and Sirius in a single paragraph versus the three pages about Karkaroff?

Harry talking about how no one believes him about not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. About the school hating him. About Ron, about his betrayal and his jealousy. About Rita Skeeter. About seeing the dragons as the first task. These are all important to Harry. These all are causing pain to Harry's heart right now. Somebody give this child a hug, please.

We missed out on exploring Harry's feelings here. The author skips the MOST important part of the conversation, what could've been a deeply emotional, either positive or negative, conversation between Harry and Sirius.

Oh, this scene could've been so good. It could've been amazing. There are so many paths that could've been explored here, too.

We could've had a callous Sirius, who doesn't notice Harry's state of being, and just goes on and on about nothing of importance where Harry clams up. Or we've could've had a comforting Sirius, who attempts to give Harry some actual advice about his friendship with Ron. We could've seen Harry opening up in his body language, connecting with this parental figure in his life. We could've heard a story of Sirius' time as a kid at school with Harry's father and the marauders.

We were robbed of an important moment between Harry and Sirius.

Instead, the author puts the focus on the red herring 'foreshadowing' of Karkaroff. What a waste. She's trying to put suspicion on him, rather than Moody/Barty Crouch Jr., the real Death Eater in disguise. Again, who cares. It's not about them. It's about Harry and how his experiences are affecting him. It's about how he reacts to them.

This scene is a waste of time and paper. It's empty of emotion and movement/flow. It's just there for a set up and it's glaringly obvious during a second read of the book.

When I say, "The writing is bloated and underwritten at the same time." this is what I mean. We're focusing on the wrong things here.

Fifth point. JKR breaks the POV character with the following line:

"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but...

Harry is the POV character. Sirius 'seeing Harry about to speak' should NOT be occurring in the prose whatsoever. To fix this with the bare minimum of effort for this poorly written dialogue line:

"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts--" Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Sirius said hastily, "Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm, but..."

I wouldn't write these lines like this, by the way. I just don't want to rewrite this. It's a poor paragraph overall, but this is an example of returning the POV back to Harry. Sirius isn't 'seeing' anything anymore. Harry is doing an action and Sirius reacts to his action.

Breaking POV is a rule that can be occasionally broken, but should be done so with intent and purpose. I'm pretty confident when I say that JKR probably had no idea that this was a mistake on her part in the prose.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part One in this series. We have dissected a single page and a single scene in JKR's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The page in question is 333 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

More to follow because I have lots of pages to go over. This will definitely be series, ah dear.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

[vee33ee]

Imagine you have a science exam and yuuta, your most lovely boyfriend is teaching you because if he doesn't, you'll honestly fail.

"No. That's ethanol babe... We need ethanal.. Yes, that, good job sweetheart"

He guides your hand as you draw the chemical structures of the compounds for your chemistry exam. Whenever you get a question correct, he gives you a sweet kiss, all the more reason to pay attention and not just stare at his pretty face while he explains you some of the most basic concepts that you should've done in class but you're so glad you can cover them with him because he's a much better teacher than your grumpy professor.

He's so patient with you and smiles when you're going the right direction while solving a question. When you're finally finished with a chapter, he gives you a bright smile and multiple kisses. Allows you to take a break and you and him watch some shitty tv series' first episode while cuddling on the sofa.

After that you're back at it again and this may be the first time you're not complaining about studies and your class because your lovely boyfriend yuuta is teaching you

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Write About You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Writing About Their Sex Life

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Rafe and Y/N finally get to take a class together, but maybe she didn't choose the right class to share with him.

Masterlist

Y/N knew she shouldn’t have let Rafe take an elective with her. She should’ve called it fate when they didn’t get into the same class during the fall semester, but Rafe was very determined to be in the same class as her. She honestly does love being able to spend time with him during class; it’s just that maybe a creative writing class isn’t the best for both of them. Rafe respects her boundaries during class, letting her focus on taking notes and listening to the professor, so that isn’t the problem. No, the problem is that Rafe hates creative writing as a whole. He isn’t great with words and the only topic he wants to write about is his angel. So far he is skating by with his assignments; however, he needs to do decent on his final portfolio to pass the class. Y/N makes it her mission to make sure her boyfriend passes and she is starting to regret it. For the past assignments, she didn’t have time to go over his work before he submitted it, so she was unaware of the recurring theme in all of his work. 

Rafe’s eyes bore into her as she read over his work, anxious for what she had to say. He doesn’t care about passing. If he doesn’t pass, he can always let his dad’s money pass hands to change that F into a B. Except this is a little different, Y/N wants him to do well so he wants to do well. Y/N glances over each word and heat starts to build inside of her heart. 

I don’t believe in religion, 

yet I do believe in Angels. 

Because I found mine, 

And she is absolutely divine. 

I live for her smile.

She makes my life worthwhile. 

She stole my heart

Because she is a work of art. 

His poem has no structure and isn’t long enough per the assignment requirements. It does rhyme, yet she has to admit it isn’t very good. She is sweetened up by the fact that he chose her as his subject. As she reads the rest of his pieces, she notices how she is his only subject. She finally reads the last piece and looks up at him with a soft smile. “You wrote about me,” she states, flipping through the pages. He nods, “Yeah, you are my muse, Angel. Do you like it?” “It’s really sweet, Rafe. I just don’t know how I feel knowing that you wrote about our sex life for your short story and that our professor is going to mark this,” she explains. He flashes a proud smile, “Yeah, I think I really captured your beauty in that one. I was thinking about reading that one during our last class when we can share our work. Show that guy, who sits in front of us who keeps looking back at you, just how satisfied you are with me.” Y/N’s eyes widen to saucers and she shakes her head. “Rafe, please don’t read this in class. In fact, I think we need to work on some of these pieces because you can’t only write about me,” she begs, turning the stack of papers so he can read her feedback. He frowns, “Come on let me write about you, Angel.” 

“You can, but if you want to pass, you have to choose three other topics to talk about. You can choose one piece to keep about me.”

“But I only want to write about you. Plus, I can’t choose because they all have to do with you so I love them all.”

“I know. Maybe we can alter the topic so it is still about me but not as obvious. My favourite is this sudden fiction. Your stream of consciousness is really good and you bring the scene to life with the senses. So let's see what you can write about for your other pieces.”

Rafe nods at his girlfriend’s suggestion. His heart flutters at the thought that she likes one of his works. He takes a second to seriously consider what she says and a light bulb goes off. “How about for the poem, I write about the future family that we can have?” he considers, already writing down the lines he is thinking of. She reads over what he writes and a smile blooms across her face. “That is a great idea. Now, we just need to look at two other topics.” 

———

Y/N is studying in the library when Rafe comes rushing to her with his phone in his hand. “Angel, Angel. Look what I got on my portfolio,” he announces. His phone shoots before her eyes and she has to hold his hand to keep it steady. Y/N looks at the screen, reading the B- on display. She claps her hand in celebration and then wraps her arms around his neck. “This is amazing, Rafe. I am so proud of you,” she kisses his cheek. He revels in her pride, “It wasn’t all me, Angel. I have you and your brilliant brain to thank for the help. You make me smarter every single day.” Rafe couldn’t feel more lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend, who helps him grow as a person and succeed.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

[btsbabe7]

November Prompt 21: Crisp Air

Words: 905 | Pairing: Neville Longbottom x reader

In the distance, you can make out Neville’s frame hunched on a bench in front of the main greenhouse. Thick brown vines trailing across the giant frosted windows hug the structure behind him and the morning horizon peeks just beyond it. The view is breathtaking, but you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him.

Your close footsteps draw his attention from the book in his hands and up towards you. His thick brown hair is blowing in the soft morning winds and he shoves his book away, immediately coming off the bench to greet you with a warm smile. His gloved hands rest on your cheeks and he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, warming you more than you’d been with your hands shoved inside your coat pockets on the walk over. When he pulls away, his ocean blue eyes gaze into yours and you get lost in them until the crisp morning air rushes over the both of you. The moment you shiver against him, he reaches into his bag for the extra greenhouse keys he’d managed to get from Professor Sprout at the beginning of the year.

“Next class isn’t due til noon, so we have plenty of time to study,” he grunts while pushing the heavy door open with his shoulder. With a sigh, he turns back toward you, following your lead after you step inside. Shortly after, he locks the door from the inside. “But I don’t understand why you want to study dittany, we’re far more advanced than that.”

You take in the warmth of the greenhouse. All the sunlight that seems to have disappeared over the week has been absorbed inside the frosted glass walls. Everywhere you turn there’s plant pots, soil and fertilizer bags or some green herb growing lushly. It makes you smile, makes you happy to be able to witness life in this form when everything outside of here is withering away and growing colder with winter fast approaching.

You peel your coat off, then your gloves and scarf and earmuffs and toss them on the only empty table you can find before turning to see your boyfriend’s look of confusion.

“Come on, Nev,” you purr softly. “Warm me up a bit?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip the moment he slips out of his coat and drops everything on the ground before scurrying to you. Neville steps in front of you, allowing his fingertips to curl against the hairs at the nape of your neck before pulling you into an open-mouthed kiss.

He’s gotten loads more attention now due to his changing looks, but you’ve had the real luxury of watching him grow older over the years. His puffy cheeks were the first to go, eventually rounding out into a sculpted, chiseled jawline and soon after, his body had done the same, leaving him with nothing but pure muscle that threatened to tear through the white button up he’d failed to replace. And though he had many physical changes, his kindness and courage and care for you always remained, and that’s what you love most.

You hop on top of the table, shaking a few pots in the neighboring potting tables which gains a laugh from the both of you. And once you’ve steadied yourself, you glide your hands over his, which had dropped to your waist during your kiss. Then, you trail up his wrists and slowly over his biceps until you reach his shoulder blades. You work your fingers tenderly into the knots that always form there and he grunts loudly in relief.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” You moan. “Carrying all the plant pots for the first years?”

He bows his head in shame, knowing that he told you he’d stop two weeks ago.

“You know how heavy those pots can get, Y/n, and they’re so small. It reminds me of us seven years ago,” he admits.

“Nev, you promised. It’s admirable, truly, but you’re neglecting your own body.”

“I can handle it,” he whispers and leans in closer, looking you straight in the eyes with a smirk. “Besides, I have you to rub out all the kinks and knots.”

You scoff softly before giggling against his touch and pulling him closer. He rests his head against your shoulder, his breath steadying against the goosebumps that have prickled across your skin.

“Y/n?” He breathes.

“Mhm?”

“I want you to stay with me over the break,” he answers, pulling back to see the clear excitement and nervousness on your face.

In all the years of dating, he’d never asked, and during the times you’d begged him, he always said he didn’t want to intrude on you and your time with your family; though, he didn’t even have his own anymore.

“Yes. Yes! Of course I’ll come, Nev,” you exclaim and rest your hands against his collarbones.

“Y/n,” he says again and you gaze up into his eyes once more. “I’m absolutely head over heels in love with you.”

You blush hard as he brushes your tears away and pulls your lips back against his. In that kiss, you both make a silent vow to never abandon each other. And that vow, in a world where anything can be frigid and crisp on the outside, having the ability to lean on each other for warmth whenever you may need it feels absolutely amazing, just as love should.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

[ronniaugust]

How To Write Good Dialogue (Part 1)

I'm gonna start this by saying I'm not trying to sound like a know-it-all. I am just tired of posts like these being absolutely fucking useless. I am aware this is basically me screaming into a void and I’m more than okay with that.

This guide is meant for intermediate screenwriters, but beginners are also absolutely welcome. :)

(about me)

-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-

I've noticed a rise in film students who want to make films that have no dialogue. Probably after your professor showed you Doodlebug, right? Fuck that.

I'll make another post about writing a short film, but all you need to know is: Don't waste the audience’s time. Most of these no-dialogue shorts have very little substance and take way too long to tell the shortest possible story. Not a good idea.

Useless Dialogue

Plain and simple, don't write useless dialogue. Useless dialogue is dialogue that just doesn't fucking matter. Dialogue matters by having ✨subtext.✨

What is subtext? Subtext is the meaning behind the action. That's it.

If I tell you that I love you and I got big doe eyes while I say it, it means I love you. If I tell you I love you through a clenched jaw without looking at you, I don't necessarily love you right now.

Simple, right? Great.

Now think about the subtext behind every line. Does your character mean what they're saying? Are they doing it to get what they want? What is going through their mind as they say it? As long as you know your character, you’ll have these answers ready to go. If you don’t, you’ll figure it out eventually. Just keep writing.

When you write your character walking into a Starbucks and saying, "One venti iced coffee," does that do something? Why do I need to see someone's boring Starbucks order? Do I need to know that your character's boring? Why are you writing a boring character? [Of course, in the rare situation where this is some revealing clue to the massive crime investigation, then it makes sense.]

Useless dialogue is any dialogue that has no meaning or purpose in your script. Delete and move on. You don't need to write entire conversations or scenes that bore us, just write what we care about.

I took a class once where my professor called a version of this "trimming the fat." Get us into your scene and out of your scene in as little time as it takes to have it achieve its full purpose in the script.

[P.S. You don’t “inject” subtext into your lines. Idk who started that vernacular in subtext teachings but I hate it.]

Show vs. Tell

I remember a glorious fight I got into with a Redditor last year about show vs. tell… TL;DR: Dialogue is “show” if you write it with intention and subtext. If someone says that dialogue is inherently “tell,” they’re wrong and can go fuck themselves.

Dialogue that is “tell” is expositional dialogue. But, hot take: Exposition isn't just in dialogue. It’s also those annoying clichés that make you roll your eyes in the theater (which we just call clichés and not exposition). I’m sure every professor I’ve had will disagree with this and then get me into a long conversation about it, but let’s ignore that for right now.

Have you ever seen a movie where a character rubs an old, worn-out photo of a young girl while looking depressed? That's exposition. That character has a dead daughter. No shit.

Clichés are incredibly annoying. We all know that. Assume that any cliché you see - in this context - is exposition and try your best not to write it. (Tropes are different and sometimes necessary, so I’m not talking about that.)

Point blank: When you have subtext in your lines, they are "show,” not “tell.”

Before moving on, I'll bring up that while technically the dead daughter photo is subtextual, it is as close to the character saying “My daughter is dead,” as you can get. Don't treat the audience like we're fucking stupid.

The First 15

If you don’t know what the Inciting Incident is, please look up “3 Act Structure” before reading this.

The first 15 pages of your script is the part that comes before the Inciting Incident. This is the part you want to get right because, although people probably won’t leave the theater, they will absolutely find something else on the streaming service they’re using. The people making said movie will also just toss your script in the trash before it’s even produced, so it's best to get it right.

Dialogue in the first 15 generally follows the same rules, but carries a heftier additional rule. All dialogue in the first 15 minutes must, must, must tell us something about your character.

Remember when I talked about that boring Starbucks order? Why is your character boring? Don’t write that. Don’t write nice characters. Or pleasant characters. Or friendly characters. No one cares.

You want empathy. This does not mean “relatable.” It means “empathetic.” There is a difference.

I personally relate to Vi in Arcane, but I empathize with Theo in Children of Men. Both are excellent, but one personally resonates a bit more with me. You cannot write a character that deeply resonates with every single person, it is impossible.

With each line of dialogue, you must be saying something about your character that generates the empathy. Instead of telling you how to do this, I’ll direct you to a movie that will do better than an explanation: Casablanca.

Watch how Rick interacts with the world. What kind of man is Rick? Watch what he does, what he says, and how he treats people and himself. Watch that empty glass on the table. Watch his contradictions. Everything. Those things matter and it’s what makes you want to watch Rick for the entire duration of Casablanca.

“Realism”

This is maybe more directorial, but make your characters human enough, not too human.

Too human is when you’ve tried your best to capture all those little life-like speech patterns. You know, the ones that no one fucking cares about.

If your character coughs, they’re sick. If they clear they’re throat, they’re uncomfortable. If a bruise isn’t going away, they’re going to die. Simple.

Every moment on screen matters. Everything the audience sees is meant to lead them to a conclusion. Not the conclusion, just a conclusion.

The realism you want is in the choices your character makes, not how many times they say “Uh,” in a sentence.

Conclusion

Dialogue matters and should not be treated lightly or without care. Once you have this all engrained in your mind, dialogue should become effortless.

If you want an excellent way to think about this, Robert McKee's Story has an excellent chapter that helped clarify this all for me. Here's an excerpt and the context.

Warning, spoilers for Chinatown.

"If I were Gittes at this moment, what would I do?"

Letting your imagination roam, the answer comes:

"Rehearse. I always rehearse in my head before taking on life's big confrontations."

Now work deeper into Gittes's emotions and psyche:

Hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, thoughts racing: "She killed him, then used me. She lied to me, came on to me. Man, I fell for her. My guts are in a knot, but I'll be cool. I'll stroll to the door, step in and accuse her. She lies. I send for the cops. She plays innocent, a few tears. But I stay ice cold, show her Mulwray's glasses, then lay out how she did it, step by step, as if I was there. She con-fesses. I turn her over to Escobar; I'm off the hook."

EXT. BUNGALOW-SANTA MONICA

Gittes' car speeds into the driveway.

You continue working from inside Gittes' pov, thinking:

"I'll be cool, I'll be cool ..." Suddenly, with the sight of her house, an image of Evelyn flashes in your imagination. A rush of anger. A gap cracks open between your cool resolve and your fury.

The Buick SCREECHES to a halt. Gittes jumps out.

"To hell with her!"

Gittes SLAMS the car door and bolts up the steps.

Story by Robert McKee, pg 156

The context of this page is McKee's way of explaining how to write characters. I found it very helpful.

-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-

Thanks for reading! I probably forgot something, so I made this a “part 1.”

I hope this helps someone since I’m really tired of finding short films on YouTube that are all fucking silent. The few who have done it well have been copied to death, so please write some dialogue. I promise you it’s so much better if you do.

Asks are open! :)

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

♡Dear Diary♡

Heyyy girliesss this week has been super crazy for me and I need to spill lol <333

♡Education♡

This week was so exhaustingggg. Taking six classes this semester is a bit more exhausting than it was last semester. I am a bit confused in my psychology statistics class. The professor has a me a bit confused but he is so nice! That’s the only the thing that sucks is how nice he is but he isn’t the best explainer for someone with my learning style. My bio class is going well but so much notes and stuff to learn I just can’t. But I got this I know I do I just need to pull through this semester and then I’ll be free in December. I love school when I’m not in school but hate it when I’m in school. I love the structure school gives my life.

♡Mental♡

I had my first counseling session for the semester it was so amazing my new counselor is amazing she is so relaxed and I definitely feel like a click with her. I had a man last semester and I am so happy I didn’t force myself to stick with him he wasn’t a terrible person but he wasn’t what I needed in a counselor. I needed a woman, someone who understood me and I could be vulnerable with I didn’t feel comfortable enough to cry in-front of him and I felt like he didn’t know how to help me. Mentally I’ve been in a healthy space challenging myself and my ways of thinking every single day it’s tough some days and amazing others but that is life.

♡Physical♡

I’ve been walking an hour every single day and I’m so proud of myself! Hitting close to 10,000 steps. I am not focused on the number of steps I’m more focused on the time I spend walking everyday. I’m going to start Pilates again soon and I’m super excited to start Pilates. I’ve been slowly working my way into my fitness these past three weeks it’s been walking consistently for an hour a day and in two weeks it’ll be an hour of walking a day and Pilates three times a week. Slow and steady wins the race. Resetting my fitness journey was the best thing I’ve done for myself. If you’d love a blog post on this let me know.

♡Hobbies♡

I am currently thinking of taking up a few new hobbies. I went hiking this weekend it was so much fun!! I met so many nice people and had such nice conversations. I walked a lot we didn’t really “hike” we walked around a beautiful large park that was filled with large gardens and fountains it was beautiful. I met another hijabi we conversed about hormones, studies I found online, careers, college and so much more. There were other amazing kind people as well. I can’t wait for our next hike! I need to go shopping for more “Nike hijabs” and hiking friendly clothing for hijabi’s because I can not pass out lol. I plan on joining more clubs that pique my interests<3333

Have an amazing weekend my lovessss and continue to affirm yourself, push yourself, and enjoy yourself. You are right where you need to be in life right now and you should enjoy every bit of It love youuu girliesss<33333

[somewhereincairparavel]

hiii congrats on 400 i love ur blog!!

i have a headcannon that jason takes architecture in new rome university to pursue his vision of rebuilding temple hill. can i request an architecture student!jason fic? maybe some engineering student!leo tossed in as well idk haha tysmmm! ~~♡

ೃ⁀➷ Screws and Ceramicsೃ⁀➷

author's note: I'm sorry this took so long!! I'm back on my writing spree finally!!

“The exterior facade of the Colosseum consists of four levels, with the bottom three levels composed of 80 arches each. Structurally speaking, the arches make possible the immense size of the structure-”

Jason adjusted his glasses as he was trying his hardest to copy his notes down, as quickly as possible, the professor was going kinda fast but Jason didn't blame him.

They have so much coursework for this semester. New Rome coursework for architecture students included the basics of Colosseum construction, Parthenon preservation and the surprising malleability of marble.

Currently Jason was learning the basics of Colosseum construction. It wasn't easy, but Jason was willing to give it his all, he even asked Annabeth for advice. His dream was to redesign temple hill, after he was done finishing the minor gods project. The only way he could get the permission to professionally redesign the structure of a long existing camp, was to get a degree to prove that he was worthy enough.

Romans do not play when it comes to buildings. Moreover, he didn't want anyone to call him a “nepo baby” and that he only got to design temple hill because he was Jupiter's son. Annabeth had already moved up levels of the architecture courses, and graduated with Percy. Jason was two years younger, by the time Annabeth had graduated, he was only then finishing highschool in California, so he still had a long way to go. Thankfully, Leo took engineering in NRU, so Jason had great company.

“Man, all these Romans do is yap yap and yap in cursive. They know nothing about how engineering works.” Leo babbled, complaining about his professor, who was a legacy of vulcan.

Jason scowled. “What are you implying, Leo? That we Romans know nothing about building stuff? That's the biggest stretch I've ever heard. They've built the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Domus Aurea, the Pantheon, Trajan's Column, Trajan's Market, the Catacombs, the Circus Maximus, the Baths of Caracalla, Castel Sant'Angelo, the Mausoleum of Augustus-”

“Woah woah calm down. I see you've clearly learnt all the names of those Roman buildings for your upcoming exam, thank me later for discreetly testing you. Looks like you really know your stuff dude. Romans are still mid engineers though” Leo winked. Jason stared at him bewildered. He hadn't even realized that he spit out all those Roman building names, he'd been up all night studying them.

“Iuppiter te perdat, valdez” (may Jupiter come at you, valdez) Jason muttered.

“Aww come on, don't go all Latin on me now, did you curse me out?” Leo questioned.

“maybe.”

“Well, whether you realize it or not, I seem to be the only one who somehow get you to apply whatever you've learnt in class dude. I mean, I've said like two sentences, and that's enough to get you to yap about Roman buildings and Latin curses” Leo laughed.

Well, he wasn't wrong.

“also you are only proving my point that Romans yap in cursive, I mean, have you seen yourself speak?” Jason gave him a pointed look.

“don't worry, it's cute.” Leo said, patting Jason's hair.

“Well, maybe i yap in cursive because I'm actually knowledgeable.” Jason replied, tersely smiling.

“a little too much of a big head but fair point.” Leo admitted.

“Anyways I'm starving. In honor of you insulting us Romans, Let's go eat some nice Roman food," Jason said, dragging Leo to the cafeteria.

“Leo, what's wrong?” Jason asked as he slipped inside Leo's dorm room. He hadn't heard from leo in a few hours now and he was getting worried.

Leo was scrambling anxiously, his hands seemed to be having minds of their own as his eyes darted around the room.

“I have like, 2 projects due tomorrow, and I swore to myself that I'd start on them early but I was having so much fun it totally slipped my mind-”

“Okay. Alright. First off, calm down. You still have like, 10 hours till your next class. You can still get it done by then, stressing out only prolongs your progress-”

“Give it a rest Dr. Phill” Jason rolled his eyes.

“I'm just trying to help”

“Well it isn't working, just letting you know, man”

“What's your project about? I'm no engineer, but maybe i could help with building the outer structure or solving machine equations to help make it work better-”

“Oh please yes. I need all the help I can get right now”

Jason smiled.

And so. The architect and engineer started their nerdy fiasco.

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Yandere Professors Bang Chan, Hongjoong, & Sangyeon) 5k, yandere, college professors, scolding, manipulation, aggression, yelling, dub-con, non-con, smut, fingering, penetration, creampie, gang bang, bruising (@starillusion13)

“Have you forgotten who we are?”

Ever since you were young you knew you wanted to be a star. You wanted to be on stage, you wanted to entertain, you wanted to be loved. It was fortunate your parents supported you in this dream, even before they realized how serious you were. They signed you up for dance lessons, as well as singing, and did anything else they could to help. You were talented, and that was obvious from a young age. So it was no surprise when you got accepted into a prestigious arts university. Your parents were so proud, and you were so excited to properly start building your career.

Of course you had actually had the chance to show your talents before entering uni. You participated in some singing competitions, and did a few shows here and there. Some people knew you, but you weren’t a celebrity. You may have already had a chance to be on a stage, but that wasn’t gonna make you think you were better than others. At uni you were just another student, and maybe you wouldn’t even make it as big as you wanted to be, but being here was a great step. You wouldn’t bring up your past achievements, and do your best to get along with others. After all, in this industry it’s all about connections.

With that in mind you were quite surprised when some of your professors offered to privately tutor you and help you with your studies. They didn’t really do tutoring in general, but it seemed they were willing to make an exception for you. It had already been a few weeks, and by now they had all seen what you could do. You figured it was a good sign, so did your parents and they agreed to the tutoring. It was something you took seriously, but it was certainly more than you expected. Now you always stayed late with your professors. 

After your classes you’d spend a few hours with either professor Bang, professor Lee, or professor Kim in the dance studio. They had their own classes so it tended to be someone different each time. You’d practice your dance moves and work on developing your own style. It was quite exhausting, but fun nonetheless. Once you wrapped that up you took a bit of a break and then headed to the studio. You were already quite talented with singing, but that wasn’t the only thing they wanted you to focus on. If you really wanted to be a star, you had to be incredible, and they believed you were capable. 

So besides singing and dancing you were being taught about lyrical structure and music composition, then they even threw rap lessons into the mix. You weren’t studying all of these things on your own, this was certainly extra work they were putting on you. Still, they always assure you that you were capable, and you certainly felt you were learning. All this would give you an extra edge when trying to get a foothold in the industry, but there was something about this whole thing. After all, nothing is free, especially not in this industry.

“So, there’s this new place that opened up in town, and we should totally go.” Your friend Ava suggested. “I’ve heard good things from it. You in?”

“I’m out.” You commented.

“You’re always out.” Your other friend, Misu, pouted. “Are you ever going to hang out with us after class?”

“You know I have dance practice and then a session in the studio.”

“Those professors really don’t give you a break, do they?”

“They’re just trying to help.”

“Talk about picking favorites.” Lyla added. “You’re a freshman and they’re giving you all these free lessons. It’s kinda unfair.”

“They offered, and I couldn’t just turn them down.”

“You sure your parents didn’t pay them?”

“My parents never came to campus before they offered to tutor me.”

“Then what do they get out of it?” Ava asked. “No way they just tutor you for free.”

“Well… they kinda do.” You admitted nervously. “I should get going.”

“No, come on, girl. Text them you’re not feeling well and come with us.”

“Ava-”

“Please, pretty please, just this once.”

“Yeah, we never get to see you anymore.” Misu commented. “Let’s go hang out together. One day off won’t kill you.”

You sighed. “Alright, fine, but just this once.”

“Awesome!”

You were lucky you didn’t have any of your tutors as your last class of the day. So you sent a message in the group chat with them, letting them know you were feeling under the weather and apologized for missing your lessons. With that done you packed your things and went with your friends, talking about the plans for the evening. It really had been a while since you hung out with them, so you were greatly looking forward to this.

“Y/n.”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard a firm voice call your name. You swore under your breath, trying your best to compose yourself. You slowly turned around, your friends already knowing what the situation was

“Professor Kim-”

“I thought you were feeling under the weather?”

“She is.” Misu cut in. “We’re taking her back to her dorm.”

“Is that so?”

The professor walked up to you, pressing his palm against your head. Then he placed a finger under your nose. You closed your eyes, realizing you had been caught.

“You seem fine to me.”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t skip your lessons.”

“It-”

“Come on now.”

The professor took your hand and yanked you away from your friends. They attempted to protest but you just shook your head at them. You got caught, so you’d have to suffer the consequences. You figured you’d be taken to the dance studio, as was the routine, but instead you were dragged to the recording studio. Upon entering you saw that professor Bang and professor Lee were also there. You were shoved onto the couch, keeping your head down as you adjusted yourself.

“I found her.”

“Feeling under the weather?” Professor Lee questioned. “You forget I saw you this morning, and you were just fine.”

“Sorry…”

“Sorry? You lied to us, and for what?”

“I just wanted to hang out with my friends…”

“What kind of friends convince you it’s a good idea to ditch your lessons? Those are not good friends.”

“They-”

“Let’s not argue the details.” Professor Bang said. “The question is, what will be the consequences? Care to guess?”

“…”

“Since we’re here we should start with your vocal lessons today. Let’s warm up.”

That wasn’t a suggestion, so you got up and made your way into the recording booth, professor Lee following you. He brought in a stool with him and had you sit down. He placed his hands on your shoulders, slowly sliding them down your arms and then yanking them behind your back. You kept them there as you heard him take off his belt, using it to tie your hands together. He brought the mic closer to you, standing behind you.

“You may begin.”

You took a breath and began with your warm ups, following what you had learned, as well as what they had taught you. After a moment you felt professor Lee’s hands trailing down your sides, his hands reaching your thighs and massaging them gently. Instinctively you closed your legs, but he merely pulled them apart, tsking in your ear. From there his hands moved inward, his fingers rubbing at your core through your panties. You were never one for skirts, but had gotten into the habit of wearing them because of your tutors. You yelped into the microphone, feeling a bit shy.

“Keep going.”

“Professor-”

“When it’s just us you call us by our names, remember?”

“Yes, Sangyeon.”

“Good girl. Now continue.”

You tried to keep your voice steady as Sangyeon continued his distraction. You even had to avert your gaze as Chan and Hongjoong were watching you from the other side of the glass. It didn’t help anything when Sangyeon pushed your panties aside and his cold fingers ran up along your core. You shivered, accidentally making eye-contact with Chan. You felt your face burning and you shut your eyes. You tried to compose yourself and bit your lip, but Sangyeon pushed a finger into you, a moan escaping you.

“Are you getting this?” Sangyeon asked.

“We’re recording.” Hongjoong assured.

“Good.”

Sangyeon wrapped his free hand around your throat, putting light pressure on it as he held your head high. You had to stay by the microphone and continue your warm up. You desperately tried to move, but your arms were restrained, and Sangyeon was holding you still. His fingers kept working you over, eventually finding your sweet spot. You whimpered into the mic, your breathing becoming uneven. Your face wasn’t the only thing burning anymore. By then Sangyeon had two fingers into you, his lips pressing kisses against your cheek.

“Sa… Sangyeon…”

“Hm?”

“… please…”

“You don’t deserve to cum.”

He pushed you closer to the edge before stopping, pulling his fingers out. You whimpered, and looked up to him with pleading eyes. All you got was a kiss on your head as he undid the belt and freed your arms.

“We’ll start in ten.” Chan announced into the booth. “And you’re not allowed to touch yourself.”

Sangyeon left you alone, and you took the time to catch your breath and finish your warm up. You felt frustrated, but your lessons had only just begun. You practiced your singing and rapping, following the verses given to you and trying to do your own thing with them. When you finished you collapsed onto the couch in the studio, wanting to get some rest.

“Here.”

You opened your eyes when someone tapped your legs, seeing Hongjoong offering you a cup of tea. You took it and gave a smile, getting yourself a pat on the head. For now you’d let your voice rest and work on composition. Chan really wanted to get you to a point where you could write your own music. There was a great opportunity coming up as the university was having its annual freshmen showcase. It wasn’t mandatory, but it would be beneficial for any of the new students, even transfers, to participate.

“Chan.”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking of partnering with one of my friends for the showcase.”

“No.”

“But-”

“The showcase is very important and you can’t be doing it with someone else.”

“Why not? I don’t-”

“You have to show that you can be a star on your own before you collaborate with others.” Chan explained. “Besides, you’re already marked down as a solo act.”

“What!? I haven’t even submitted my-”

“We did it for you.” Hongjoong chimed in. “You can’t leave such things at the last minute.”

“I guess…”

“Hm, have you forgotten who we are?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then you have to trust us. We’re not just professors, but artists in the industry. We get a say whether you make it or not, and we do like you. So you shouldn’t ruin your chances.”

“Right.”

“As long as you stick with us and do what we say, you’ll end up in the spotlight.”

You took a sip of your tea before Chan took it from you, pulling you onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Daddy doesn’t wanna see you fail.” Chan mumbled. “And I’m not talking about your father.”

Chan placed a kiss on your neck, his lips trailing up until he stopped to press a big kiss on your cheek. He giggled into the kiss.

“Hm, we should go over to the dance studio. You can’t skip practice.”

“I know.”

The four of you made your way over to the dance studio, using a private practice room. They helped you with your warm ups, and then continued where you left off. They intended to have you dance as well for the showcase, so they had been working with you to choreograph your routine. It was still a work in progress, but you were at the halfway point. After three hours you collapsed to the floor, exhausted and finally done for the day. You were laying on the ground, eyes shut, and catching your breath when you felt someone on top of you. When you opened your eyes you found Sangyeon smiling down at you.

“Don’t you look pretty.”

“I’m all sweaty.”

“A beautiful glow.”

“You’re gross.”

“One must find beauty everywhere, and you look amazing.”

You remembered that this was how it all started. When the trio had first taken you on it seemed like a normal student and tutor situation. It wasn’t until one of your dance practices that you realized there was more going on. After a long session you found yourself under Chan. Before you could say anything he was kissing you. At first you were shocked but then you pushed him off, moving away. You told him it was wrong, and that you weren’t interested in him in such a manner, but that didn’t stop him. He wound up pinning you down beneath him, telling you not to lie to yourself. He knew the way other students would stare at him, and you were no different. Maybe that was true, but this still felt wrong.

You thought things would stay between you and Chan, but he was very open with affection in front of the other two. That led to them getting intimate with you as well. It started softly with kisses, but when it was just one on one they got bold. First it was Sangyeon in the dance studio, taking you after a lesson and pushing you to your limits. Then it was Chan in the studio before you practiced, telling you to consider it a warm up. Lastly it was Hongjoong after his lecture, having you stay with him since your private studies with him would begin afterwards. You could tell they all had some experience on that front.

Now they were all just comfortable with each other and you, so they had no problem taking turns. At this point you weren’t sure if they actually cared about you or if you were their project and they were gonna make you famous. At least they didn’t seem to doubt your talent, which is probably why you were still engaging with them in such a manner. There were times when it hit you how wrong all this was, but this was your golden opportunity, and you couldn’t blow it. So you went along with them. All the private sessions, the one-on-one practices, the sex. None of it was bad, but you knew for sure those around you would say awful things behind your back if they knew the truth.

🖤

“Yo, what’s the plan for the weekend?”

“I’m gonna be at the studio working on my showcase.”

“Girl, do you ever take a break.”

“Winter break is coming up.”

“And you sure you gonna take it?”

“I’m fine Misu, and yes, I will definitely enjoy my winter break.”

“Then I’ll make plans for then since you always seem busy.”

“One has to work hard to make it in this type of industry.”

“I know it. Although some good connections can go a long way. I need to start getting closer to my professors.”

“Just not too close.”

“Why not? You have to admit some of them are very-”

“Stop! I don’t want to know your type.”

“Alright, virgin.”

“Ya! That’s not true.”

“Then who was your first?”

“Uh…”

“Exactly. Virgin.”

“Whatever. Enjoy your weekend.”

“You too. Don’t work too hard.”

“I’ll try not to.”

It was sweet that your friends always checked in with you about the weekend, hoping for the day you don’t say you’re busy. One day that will be the case but for now you had to spend your weekend with your tutors. You had to be at the studio by eight in the morning, so it always sucked having to drag yourself out of bed. You made a stop for coffee on your way, making sure to get some for everyone too. When you walked into the studio you were greeted with happy faces. They already seemed wide awake unlike yourself. Maybe they didn’t sleep at all.

“Look who showed up late.”

“It’s not eight yet, Sangyeon.”

“If you’re on time you’re late, if you’re early you’re on time.”

“I see, my bad.”

“We’ll work on that.” Sangyeon teased. “Let’s get you settled in before we begin.”

You had your coffee and the session was going by like normal until there was a knock at the door. It was the weekend, so not many students would be on campus. Although as everyone shared glances the door opened and your friend Misu stepped in.

“Hey- wow, what’s this?”

“A private session.” Chan stated. “Please leave.”

Chan didn’t wait for a response as he closed the door and locked it. Things were quiet for a moment, the guys waiting for the uninvited guest to leave. Once they were gone they all turned to look at you.

“What the hell was that?” Hongjoong questioned. “Did you invite your friend?”

“No! Not at all!”

“I think you’re lying.”

“I swear I’m not.”

“Then why show up here?” Sangyeon wondered. “On a weekend of all times?”

“I… I mentioned to Misu that I would be in the studio this weekend, but I never invited her! I didn’t think she’d show up to surprise me or something.”

“I thought we told you to stop socializing with your so-called friends.”

“Uh… they are my friends though, I can’t-”

“You can’t be having friends at this point in your career.”

“What? Doesn’t it pay to have connections in the industry?”

“It does.” Chan stated. “And you have us. No one else matters.”

“But-”

“What did you tell her you were doing here today?”

“That… that I was working on my showcase.”

“So she came to potentially steal your ideas, or perhaps convince you to perform as a duo?”

“I… no, she wouldn’t-”

“And how can you be so sure? The showcase is a very important event for all the new students. Those that don’t perform well don’t stick around.”

“Oh…”

“We shouldn’t continue at the school.” Sangyeon said. “It’s better we take these sessions off campus.”

“Off campus? What do you mean-”

“We can use my studio.” Hongjoong volunteered. “None of my artists are using it this weekend.”

“You… you have your own studio?”

“Of course. Chan does as well.”

“Woah…”

“We’re not just professors. So let’s go.”

There really wasn’t a choice here, so you went with them to Hongjoong studio. It was in the city, one of the biggest buildings around. The others also seemed to know their way around. It wasn’t really noticeable before, but seeing how they all acted with one another it was safe to say they were good friends. When you walked into the studio you were quite amazed. The view was incredible.

“This is your studio?”

“You like?” Hongjoong chuckled. “Need a good view and sunlight for motivation. I’ve done some of my best work here.”

“In more ways than one.” Chan commented. “Now let’s focus. She’s spent enough time worried about others.”

“I’m not some kid. It’s important to socialize and-”

“Y/n, you’re a talented girl, and that’s why we picked you, but you should know to respect your seniors.”

“You’re also my professors and this-”

“We’re taking out free time and giving it to you.” Sangyeon reminded. “It would be rude if you took that for granted.”

“I-”

“You still need to be punished for what happened earlier today.”

“Uh…” “I agree.” Hongjoong added. “Let’s enjoy the view some more.”

“What?”

Hongjoong stalked over to you, forcing you back until your back hit the glass. He placed his hand on either side, boxing you in. You felt your face burning, avoiding Hongjoong’s gaze, but he ended up grabbing your chin and made you meet his eyes.

“Hongjoong…”

“You’re gonna be a star.”

He leaned in close, pressing his lips against yours. By now it was a force of habit to kiss back, or maybe it was just you wanting this too. Hongjoong’s hands trailed down your body, grabbing onto your waist. When he pulled away from the kiss his eyes gazed into yours with lust before he flipped you around. He pressed you up against the glass, a hand trailing down into your pants, rubbing you through your panties.

“No one can see us all the way up here.”

“… you… you sure?”

“The glass is one way.”

“Oh…”

Hongjoong pressed kisses against your neck, sucking on bits here and there to mark you up. He kept you firmly pressed against the glass, leaving you with little room to move as he teased you. This was only the beginning and that was obvious once he moved aside your panties and ran his fingers along your throbbing core. You squirmed, pressing your ass against his crotch without meaning too, feeling something hard poking you back.

“You just have to ask, baby girl.” Hongjoong whispered. “Take your pants off.”

It wasn’t a request, especially when he helped you out by unzipping your pants. You hooked your thumbs into your pants, carefully shiming out of them as Hongjoong kept teasing you. After a moment your pants hit the ground at your ankles, and you carefully stepped out of them. Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, two fingers sliding inside you. A moan escaped your lips and you could see your breath on the glass. You were so focused on your own pleasure you didn’t realize Hongjoong had pulled his dick out. You only felt it press against your ass for a moment before he removed his fingers and then slid right into your pussy. You let out a loud moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You needed a moment to adjust as he had done a sloppy job with prep. His heavy breathing was right against your ear, and he whispered how tight you were. He asked if you were ready and you nodded your head. His hands moved to your hips and he slowly began to move, getting into a rhythm before his basic instincts took over. Every thrust pushed you against the glass, giving you a slightly uncomfortable feeling, but it didn’t matter compared to everything else. You were panting against the glass, pushing back against Hongjoong as best as you could. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, mumbling something to Hongjoong, but he was in his own world.

By the way his movements were getting sloppy you knew he was close too. All you had to do was wait and play along, he’d take care of you in the end. His grip on your hips got tight, most likely going to leave bruises. Hongjoong ended up wrapping an arm around you and pulling your back against his chest. He thrust up into you a few times before you felt something warm running down your leg. The sensation pushed you over the edge and you were cumming alongside him. You had your head thrown back, resting on his shoulder as you came down from you high, catching your breath.

“What a good girl.”

Hongjoong kept you in place for a moment before pulling out and bringing you over to the couch. You were still out of breath, but were starting to settle down.

“You really got no problem making a mess in your own studio.” Sangyeon commented. 

“I have a cleaner.” Hongjoong mentioned. “And this wouldn’t be the first time they deep clean this place. Up against the glass is a popular place.”

“What about the couch?”

“A good choice too.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Sangyeon pulled you up and onto his lap. You were still exhausted but he loved the look in your eyes. He didn’t mind the mess either, his hand slipping down between your legs, fingers digging into the mess of cum still dripping out.

“Did you have fun?” You nodded. “That’s good. You had your break so how about I take you for a ride.”

“Sure…”

“At a girl.”

Sangyeon pressed his lips to yours, a new flavor into the mix. You kissed back, leaning into him. Your legs were still shaking, your mind numb from the pleasure, but you continued with Sangyeon’s advances. His thumb was rubbing at your clit, taking full advantage of your current state. You had your arms wrapped around him, feeling how he found your sweet spot and began to abuse it. Before you cooled down he wanted to get in on the action, and now that he had you in his hands it was easy. He kept fingering you while he undid his pants with his free hand, springing out his cock. He stroked himself, getting hard, leaking pre-cum all over his hand.

“You ready, darling?”

“Hm.”

You didn’t even notice when Sangyeon removed his fingers, but you certainly felt the stretch of his cock pushing your walls apart. You held onto him and moaned into his ear as he pushed into the mess, the squelching sound filling the room. Sangyeon let out a breath as you adjusted, loving the way your walls squeezed him. After taking a moment he grabbed your hips, helping you move up and down. You let him take control, helping how you could as you bounced on his cock. Your legs were already trembling, but you kept going, wanting to get another high. You could feel that heat growing again, practically being dragged out of you. Sangyeon got more aggressive as you kept going, definitely going to leave bruises on your hips.

As he lost his rhythm you did your best to take over, moving until you came. It wasn’t long before he climaxed as well, pulling you close and holding you in his arms, moaning into your ear. You twitched in his embrace, feeling so out of breath. You both stayed connected for a while as you came down from cloud nine. After a moment Sangyeon laid down and kept you on top of him, pressing lazy kisses to your face. You giggled and smiled at him, wanting to rest. Although you weren’t done yet. You suddenly felt hands pulling you off of Sangyeon and up on your feet. It was Chan, a devilish grin on his face.

“You’re not done yet, doll.” Chan said. “You have to please us all.”

“Huh…”

Chan kissed you before dragging you into the recording booth and bending you over the table inside. He only ran his fingers along your pussy and ass before getting his dick out and pushing it into you. Now there was going to be a mess to clean up in the booth. You looked up at the glass, seeing both Hongjoong and Sangyeon watching. You made eye contact for a moment before Chan rammed into rather hard, making your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your mouth hung open as he kept going, pushing you to your limits. He was pulling another orgasm out of you, and all you could do was take it. His hands trailed up and down your back. 

As he got closer to cumming his movements became sloppy. You were feeling bits of pain, but it always got overridden by pleasure. Chan suddenly pulled you up against his body, thrusting up into you before spilling his seed inside you. A loud moan escaped your lips and you shook in his arms, feeling this third orgasm push your body to the edge. Chan held you tightly, moving ever so slightly to drag on both your climaxes. By this time you were spent and could barely keep yourself up. Chan wound up carrying you out of the booth, setting you down on the couch where Hongjoong had put down a blanket. 

Your vision was fading in and out, but it was over now. You felt a hand pet you softly, going along with a soothing hum too. You certainly fell asleep for a moment, waking up to the sounds of your own moans. You peeked your eyes open, seeing Chan and Hongjoong were by the mixer, messing around with the private recordings. Your head was resting on Sangyeon’s lap, his hand rubbing circles into your skin to relax you and release any tension in your body. You were still tired so you closed your eyes, most likely going to drift back to sleep.

“We should use some of this.” Hongjoong commented. “I got a few ideas in mind.”

“How exactly do you copyright this?” Chan asked. “Then again, we did make them.”

“Exactly.”

“How about we just keep it to ourselves.” Sangyeon added. “It makes it more special that way. Besides, actually using it could lead to trouble down the line. We don’t want to ruin her future.”

“Honestly, even after the showcase, we should continue with weekend sessions.” Hongjoong mentioned. “Especially in our private studios.”

“I second that.” Chan said. “Things work better this way for everyone.”

You don’t know how long you slept for, but when you woke up you were in the back of a car. Hongjoong smiled at you and took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss against it.

“Hello.”

“Hi… what’s going on…”

“We’re going out for some food. You must be hungry.”

“Yeah…”

The boys helped you out of the car, as you couldn’t really walk straight just yet. You got a private room at the restaurant, Chan having you sit in his lap instead of taking a seat on your own. He tickled you with kisses, slapping away the hands of the others.

“Behave.” Sangyeon growled. “She’s ours.”

“Yes she is.” Hongjoong agreed. “She’s our beautiful girl.”

“No, no, no.” Chan corrected. “She’s our beautiful star.”

[translatemunson]

don’t you dare look out the window, darling, everything’s on fire • ttfd

chapter seven of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, huge fire (but no one died), brains being in risk, pov change, oblivious people in love, also maddie and chim are not married yet here, no proofreading otherwise i’d never post this (lmk if i missed something)

You knew something was odd when you stepped foot in CalTech that day. You attended a morning class, did your part as a TA for your professor, and had 20 minutes to grab something before your 1 P.M. meeting. When you were leaving the Linde Hall’s after a meeting with one of your professors, you sensed the panic in the air. And then you heard an explosion.

People were running away from all the buildings around, and the fire was taking over rapidly. That’s when the alarms in your mind went off and instead of running away from it, you ran to the doors and pulled the fire alarm. Once people started evacuating the building on fire, you heard another explosion.

“Help! Help!” A girl, probably in her masters, walked out of the building. “My friend is stuck on the last floor.”

You looked around and tried to hear, over the screams and calls for help, any signs of the sirens. Nothing. You told people to call 9-1-1, but what was taking them so long?

“What’s their name?” you asked.

“Tyler.”

“Ok. Can you tell me where you last saw them?”

“He went looking for more people on the far back labs on the second  floor and- and I heard something downstairs and he told me to run.” She looked back to the building. “Please, someone save him.”

You could hear the voices of everyone from the 118 saying it was stupid, you were not a firefighter, you should wait for them. But you couldn’t. You gave her your backpack, threw the rest of your water onto your shirt, pushed your phone into one of your pockets and ran into danger.

You walked up the stairs, shirt covering your mouth, the fire getting hungrier every second. You screamed Tyler’s name as loud as you could, opening all the doors and checking for him or anyone else.

In one of the labs, you found him with a lady, trying to move her from underneath one of the fallen shelfs. In a silent agreement, he lifted it and you pulled her free. He picked her up and you screamed “The stairs! We can use them and escape through the main entry!”

They made it to the stairs, and you checked the labs one more time, staying behind. Once you started to follow them, part of the ceiling structure collapsed over the stairs and locked you there. The fire was getting closer.

You ran back to one of the undamaged laboratories — for now. You stayed away from the door. You checked the drawers and closets for anything helpful. You opened one of the windows to check if jumping was an option.

No, it wasn’t. You were stuck until help arrived. And your stomach dropped: would they find you before the flames?

Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you called your last hope.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“This is dispatcher 990222. I need”, you coughed, “I need to talk to dispatcher Maddie Buckley.”

You heard the noise, your call going through, stuck on thinking Maddie was probably busy with any emergency right now. You pulled your shirt up, hiding your face under the wet material, trying to breathe as calmly as one can do in the middle of a building in flames.

“9-1-1, what’s your-”

“Maddie, it’s Brains.”

“Oh my God, hey. Please tell me you’re safe and sound. We are getting hundreds of calls from CalTech about a fire.” You could hear the muffled voices of other dispatchers in the background.

“I wish.” Another cough. “ETA?”

Maddie fell silent before telling you, “One fire department team is 2 minutes away from campus. Where are you?”

“In the middle of the fire, Physics Lab Building I believe. Last floor. Inside a lab.”

“Oh, Brains,” you could hear her disappointment. “Is there any way for you to escape?”

“Main staircase is blocked, windows open just enough to ventilate the lab, I can’t make this jump even if I tried. The fire is getting close to my location.”

“What kind of lab is it?”

“I’m not sure, maybe just engineering. Nothing explosive or toxic on sight here. But I can’t say the same about other labs around me.”

“Ok, I’m accessing the blueprints right now, I’m looking for a secondary way out of there.”

“Maddie.”

“We are getting you out there, ok? Hang on, there must be a way. I’m gonna guide you to the emergency stairs and-”

“Fire is blocking the exits, Mads. I looked around. ETA?”

“118 just arrived. Which lab are you in?”

You looked around for any numbers or signs. “Electronic, east side I think.”

The line went mute, as you expected.

“Brains, I need-”

“Breaking a window right now. Please, tell them, hurry up.”

The flames were violent and hungry, moving to your direction quickly. You used lab equipment to break two windows, the outside noise took over your senses just to be engulfed with the flames.

You heard one of the gas tanks in a lab exploding. You barely saw the firetruck stairs before feeling your lungs too heavy, your eyes too tired.

And then a second explosion happened.

+++

There was a punching feeling in your head. Worst than a thousand migraines. And the unceasing beeping was driving you insane. The darkness took everything out of you. Until you opened your eyes to bright lights and some familiar faces.

“Oh God, you’re back.” Josh smiled.

“Back from where?” You looked around. Maddie and Josh were watching you carefully. “What happened?”

“They pulled you out of a burning building. You were knocked out because of an adjacent explosion, which that’s why you may feel confused. Luckily you didn’t get much damage from the flames,” Maddie explained. “I’m gonna find the doctor.”

“What time is it? Can I go home?”

“You were knocked out for half a day. You’re probably staying here for another one,” Josh broke the news.

“Great,” your words were pure irony. “Please tell me no one died.”

“A few injuries here and there, no deaths. You made the right call to pull the fire alarms and evacuate the building.”

“Awesome. Can I do it again?”

Before Josh could give you an answer, Maddie came back with the doctor just behind her.

The bald doctor explained everything your friends told you. You breathed too much smoke from the fire, but your lungs would be better in no time. They were more concerned about your concussion, since you were out for 17 hours. They wanted to watch you overnight, run a few more exams, and probably release you in the morning.

“Ok, now you both can go home,” you motioned for them to leave.

“You sure?” 

“I’m awake, I have my phone, they’re gonna start taking me to places. Worst case scenario, I call 9-1-1, which means you. Go home, go to work, I’ll update you later.”

They both said their goodbyes and promised to check in via messages for the next few hours. You just smiled, not noticing you now had work parents to deal with. Maddie was already overprotective of you since your little burnout episode, and now Josh would probably keep a close eye on you. But that was a problem for later.

Unfortunately, you were well acquainted with hospital routines — because of rescue and follow up protocols. They took your blood, got another scan of your brain and body, helped you take a shower and brought you dinner. Boring hospital food. Maybe a burning building wasn’t that bad when compared to hospitals.

“First rodeo?” Buck showed up at your door, taking your mind away from the boring food. 

“Nop,” you dropped the spoon. “Delivering a patient?”

“Just finished my shift,” he closed the door and sat on the chair beside your bed. He was still wearing the black uniform, and the curls were unruled. “How are you feeling?”

“For real? Shitty as fuck. I’m probably getting a medical leave from work because of two broken ribs and I have no clue what my professors are going to propose to adapt my schedule. Again. Feels like I’m walking on a tightrope right now.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you started that fire.”

“Of course, Buck. So, what happened?”

“You were knocked off when I entered the lab. Eddie and I had to carry you down the ladder. You were pretty beaten up.”

“I mean what caused the explosion.”

“Oh, our first assessment indicates a gas leak, but we are waiting on the investigation.”

“Maybe I should join LAFD after all.”

“Hell no!” he almost screamed. “Sorry. You saved a few people, but no more playing the hero, ok?”

“Can I get a gold star for that?”

“No. Sorry, Brains, but you don’t get a reward for being reckless.”

“Why can you be bucking around all the time, and I get a lecture?”

“Because it’s you. You’re… I can’t let you do that.” In his voice, there were a few other things he left out, but you were too tired and hungry to dig deeper on that.

“You know I’m not serious, right? I could never do what you guys do on the daily.”

“Great,” he sounded relieved. “Do you want something else for dinner? I know a few people here.”

“Fries and a milkshake, please.”

“Strawberry, right?”

“Yup.”

“Done. I’m gonna get a change of clothes in my car and I’ll be back with your meal, ma’am.”

“Are you my babysitter for the night?”

“And your ride in the morning.”

“You should bill the Government for these extra hours.”

“That’s ok. I know you’d do the same for any of us.” He stood up and turned his back to you, walking for the door.

Before he could walk out of your room, you said, “thank you, Buck.”

While Buck was away, you asked the nurse to take your dinner away and grab your backpack. You reached for your phone, going through all the messages and missed calls. Word got out on the street that you tried to play the hero and your friends and family poured messages into your inbox.

Your parents were worried and said they could go and help you in an instant — you dismissed them, saying you already had people looking over you in LA. A bunch of your classmates and coworkers wished you a speedy recovery and were just a message away. You were afraid to open the messages from the 118 because they were probably saying you were insane, but also should get better soon.

Buck came back, wearing a fresh set of clothes, and took the greasy paper bag from inside his bag. “Had to improvise since my contact isn’t working today,” he handed you your milkshake and the fries, “Bon appetit, Brains.”

“Merci, Buck.”

“Wait, you speak French?” he sat down on the chair, pulling his feet up on the side of your bed.

“No, I just happen to know a few words.” You took your first sip of the milkshake and smiled. “Oh, oh. You’re my savior, Evan Buckley.”

He smiled and stopped for a moment, on the verge of saying anything. But the room felt in silence, only the chewing and take out containers making a sound. You watched Buck: he was too immersed in his burger to notice you watching him.

Maddie and May’s words during girls night were definitely haunting you. Your date with Stephen wasn’t good as you expected, and talking to Buck right after it really did mess up your feelings. Were you really looking for a substitute for Buck? Were you afraid to ruin everything? Should you trust Maddie's words about her brother’s feelings and just go for it?

The fries and milkshake were gone before you could elaborate how you were gonna start that conversation.

“What? They gave you a room with no television?” Buck complained once he took care of the trash.

“Maybe they didn’t expect me to wake up,” you said, and he looked at you discontentedly. “My laptop is in my backpack, we could watch something.”

“Ok, let’s just,” he took the laptop from your bag, you moved to the side, leaving some space in the bed for it and you gave him your password. “Anything you wanna watch?”

“Nah, just pick something, I’m starting to feel tired.”

“Yeah, you should definitely rest. I’m gonna keep the volume on low.” He picked a rerun of a basketball game he missed a few days ago. “You sure you don’t need anything else?”

“I am, Buck. Thanks.”

You moved your body around until you found a good sleeping position, still able to check what was going on in the game and to feel comfortable even though you had two broken ribs and was prohibited from sleeping on your side. But your eyes were too heavy, your mind was too much, and you ended up falling asleep.

+++

Athena and Bobby decided it was wiser to visit you in the morning. They weren’t surprised to see you were still sleeping — you had been through a lot in the last 24 hours and it was only fair for you to rest. Bobby was already taking a step back when Athena held his hand and pointed to the room.

“Look over there, love,” she said, and their eyes went straight to your hand.

Buck had his back to the door, unaware of what was going on outside of the room. All he could think was you and how he almost freaked out when he saw you, unconscious on the floor.

Bobby and Athena couldn’t stop themselves to get closer to the door and take in a few more details.

“God, I was so worried when they said a dispatcher was in the building. You have no idea, Brains.” He kept rubbing his thumb over your hand. “For a second, I thought I’ve lost you. I promise once you’re out of here, I’m coming clean.” His shoulders shook like a shy laugh.

Buck turned around and saw Bobby and Athena standing there, just watching. He recomposed himself quickly and met them outside the room. Athena gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and Bobby couldn’t hide his smile.

“How’s she doing, Buck?” Athena asked.

“Oh, she’s ok. Probably gonna get cleared once the doctor retakes a few tests, but yeah, she’s fine.” He looked over his shoulder. “She is finally resting a bit after dozens of nightmares.”

The captain said, “You should take care of her for the next few days. I’ll get Ravi to cover your shifts, don’t worry.”

“Bobby, I-”

“She’s gonna need some help, Buck.” He explained. “Let me know if you’re gonna need some help with her, because we all know how stubborn she is.”

“Will do. I’d tell you to go in and see her, but she fell asleep maybe an hour ago.”

“That’s ok. Text us when she’s home, ok?” Athena smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

They said their goodbyes and left. Buck looked at you, sleeping peacefully. Not in danger, not in tears, so close yet so far apart from him.

a/n: the only thing burning now is THEM. jk, i was burnt out. but i'm back. watch me finally bring our favourite idiots in love closer and closer! also huge shout out to @munsonsreputation and @live-love-be-unique for never letting me give upon this idea. love you girliesss! hope everyone's doing well, and i see you soon, ok? love, effie

[chaotic-archaeologist]

Punk? Academia

I'm making this as a separate post to @librarian-by-day's very good point on this thread about dark academia.

As funny as this vibe is, I think the original ‘darkness’ of dark academia has been lost. Donna Tartt’s The Secret History is a foundational text of dark academia. But this book is all about the trap of elitism in higher education. Which is legitimately a problem. As someone from the US, I think the ways higher education fails us, promotes elitism (and oppresses the working class), and ergo supports white supremacy culture SHOULD absolutely be critiqued. If anything, dark academia should be called punk academia…or something along those lines. I don’t want to hate on enjoying aethetics, because they are fun and creative. And its lovely to consider the way you present yourself as an artform. I just think there is so much power behind these kinds of critiques. But dark academia, so perfectly set up to challenge higher education in this way, doesn’t seem to go there. (Maybe I just haven’t found those critiques yet, though?)

Really, I think they said everything I might want to far better than I ever could. Thanks for calling attention to this very real problem that lies beneath the surface of the ivory tower. My humble addition is in the form of a few reading recommendations.

I had the privilege to teach a class about Indigenous research methodologies, taught by an Indigenous professor. As part of that class, we did a lot of reading about how to work within and against an inherently colonial, white supremacist organization like a university.

I would highly encourage everyone who works in/adjacent to academia to read these two books. Both of them offer important insights on the nature of academia, and how research can be a tool of or a vector for pushing back against structural and systemic inequality.

[blakeswritingimagines]

your thoughts are chef‘s kiss, but the teacher!aemond got me in a chokehold

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Teacher! Aemond thots becoming everyone's problem and I love it 🤭

You had gotten up early and ready for your day at King's Landing collage before heading out to your classes, after a couple of hours and lunch break you finally sat down in your history class setting up your books as you happily glanced over at Aemond while biting your lower lip having heard he was the best-looking professor at King's landing which so far had only been proven true and made it hard for most students pay attention even you yourself couldn't focus. Aemond is lecturing in front of his class. He speaks clearly, with the command and knowledge of someone who is an expert in their field. "And so, we saw the final battle for control of Westeros during the Dance. With the death of Rhaenyra Targaryen and the defeat of her supporters at the hands of King Aegon II, it was as if the realm finally turned a corner after so many years of civil war." He pauses for a moment, glancing briefly at you in the front row, making sure no others are watching. He stood at the blackboard explaining the events of the Dance of the Dragons. Suddenly, noticing you had been biting your lower lip and paying close attention to him. He stopped his lecture and looked at you more closely. "Are you interested in the material I'm presenting?" He asked with a smirk.

You nodded with a slight shrug. "It's pretty interesting," you replied. You leaned forward in your chair to give Aemond a fuller view of yourself. You crossed your legs, and he noticed the skirt riding up your thighs. He couldn't help his eyes from traveling up your legs as he felt a stirring in his pants. You looked at him, a smirk appearing on your lips. You nodded again giving a better answer. "It's very helpful sir." You said with a very sweet tone, your eyes on him and only him. "It's the best way I've learned… so far." Aemond just rolled his eyes and continued with the lecture, his gaze wandering at your lips from time to time. As Aemond finishes the lecture, he notices your eyes are still on him. Your look is teasing and he can almost feel it. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure a bit. "Ok then, that covers what happened during the Dance. But it's also important to understand why it happened, and how it impacted the political structure of Westeros afterward, so that will be your homework."

He takes his time to talk, and his attention stays on his notes. His eyes glance briefly at your outfit and he wonders if you were intentionally trying to distract him. Aemond sees you cross your legs, revealing your thighs and short skirt. He swallows hard as he returns his eyes to the front, knowing exactly what you want from him. "Glad to hear that. I understand the material can be very complex at times." He reaches down and adjusts his growing hardness, aware that you likely noticed the movement. "Any chance I can convince you to stay a little late and ask any last-minute questions?". Your smile grew wider, giving him a sexy smirk before you spoke. "Of course sir. I have so many questions to ask about the Dance. I hope you have enough stamina to answer all of them." Aemond's eyes grow sharp and his gaze fixed on you. "Oh, trust me… I do." Without further thought, Aemond takes a deep breath. His eyes on you were hungry, looking at your every inch, from head to toe, without shame even as all the other students left leaving both alone.

Aemond watches as the other students leave the room, aware that you both are now all alone. He shifts in his seat slightly, noticing how his body is reacting to you without even a touch, but trying to ignore it to the best of his ability. He is a handsome, in-shape man, yet he cannot help but feel nervous by your smirk and the teasing look in your eyes looking at him. "Well, I certainly have plenty of time today for you. Do you want to stay behind and continue the lesson? Or do you think there is some other way we might be able to spend our spare time?" Aemond grins wickedly, enjoying the way the two of you are alone now. With all of the students being well out of earshot and the classroom locked, he leans over the desk to whisper to you. "I've actually got no other commitments today. I thought you and I could have our own private lesson." He licks his lips, eyeing you up and down. "Perhaps in my office?" You stood up from your place and put your hands on your hips before speaking up. "I have no question about your history lesson, professor." You looked at him in a seductive way, with a smirk on your lips. "I think we both know how we would spend our spare time." Your eyes wander all over Aemond's body. You never had any feelings for any other teacher and thought he was a good, kind man. But… oh, it was true. You had been waiting for this moment months ago. You slowly nodded your head and moving closer to stand closer to Aemond. "You're sure it's not a problem?" You asked as your eyes wandered at him, noticing every movement, every muscle of Aemond's body underneath the shirt. You could not help yourself. Your body craved him. You leaned toward him slowly, your eyes never leaving him.

Aemond notices the obvious way you are staring at him; there was no mistaking what you wanted from him. He swallows hard, looking you up and down, noticing the curve of your hips and the way your skirt clings to your thighs. His body is reacting just as much as yours is. "Not at all." He says in a deeper voice than usual. "The classroom is empty anyway, and I am here to assist any students who require further instruction." He gives you a knowing look before leaning closer to you as well. Aemond's breath catches in his throat as you moved closer to him. He stares into your eyes, noticing how your gaze lingers on his body, seeing how your body is reacting to him, and also how he is reacting to you as if he wasn't jerking off each time class ended with the image of you bent over his desk. "I'm quite certain it isn't a problem," he says softly, his eyes not leaving yours. He moves his hand up to your face and caresses your cheek. He leans towards you, his lips hovering just a few inches away from yours. Your heart was racing with excitement. Your body moved so naturally and smoothly to him. Your breaths combined create a soft cloud around them. Your eyes locked to his and you couldn't let go. Aemond's caress sends shivers down your spine, slowly you pressed your forehead to his and whispers. "Don't say."

You didn't need words to describe what you wanted. Your lips were soft and inviting, like warm silk, you tasted like sweet honey. Your bodies move together in harmony, in a dance-like movement. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt his hand caress your cheek. Your legs trembled slightly as your eyes on his lips, longing for his sensual kisses and strong lips. Your breath was short and rapid as his face was close to you. You couldn't bear the way Aemond looked at you any longer. You took the final step and leans toward him, pressing your lips to his and embracing him tightly. Your kiss felt like an eternity for you. Nothing matters at that moment. You wanted Aemond more than anything in the world. The kiss becomes deeper and you pull each other's body closer. Aemond kisses you back passionately, feeling your body pressing against him as the kiss heats up and becomes more rough. Your bodies feel like they were made for each other, moving as one and exploring each other's bodies. After a few moments, Aemond breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily and looking down into your eyes. "You are even more incredible than I had imagined," he whispers, his voice full of passion and desire. "I never would have thought you wanted me this much. You are everything I expected, and more."

You kissed him again, unable to let him go. Then your hands reach down to his shirt. You started to unbuttoned his shirt one by one slowly as your lips still connected. Your hands wander all over Aemond's body. You bit his lower lips passionately before you whispered to him. "Aemond… I want you…" You leaned closer and gives him a long and deep kiss. Your bodies finally intertwined with each other. You couldn't help yourself as you felt his body against you grinding your hips against his thigh. His touch and kisses were like fire in your body. It was so hard to control yourself at that moment. You were so hungry for his love. "Aemond, please." You whispered. You slowly pulled Aemond to one of the empty desks as you pressed your body more onto him. "I want you to make love with me." Your voice is soft and desperate as you looked into his beautiful eyes. Aemond allows you to unbutton his shirt, loving the feeling of your hands moving all over his body. He kisses you back passionately and his hands run up your body, caressing your soft skin and feeling your curves. "Mmm," he murmurs as he feels your body pressed up against him groaning as he tensed his thigh for you, "I want you too, baby." He feels you pull him towards a desk, and Aemond does not resist the opportunity. He eagerly kisses you back, as his hands explore your body and move to your skirt before pushing you gently to lay back on his desk.

"Oh, god, yes. Yes, Aemond!" You groaned. Aemond's hands were a heaven-sent for you. You wanted Aemond to touch and love every inch of your body, and you will let him. Your legs slowly open widely before his eyes. You closed your eyes and felt the excitement grow inside your body. You tilted your head back with a soft sigh, feeling his hands caress your waist and hips. His kisses were driving you crazy. Your body felt hot, your breath heavy. You want to have him and take all of him. Your heart beat rapidly and your moans grew louder as you continued kissing passionately. "Aemond, please." Your voice was breathless. You couldn't wait any longer as you reached down to his pants, unbuttoning it with shaking hands. "I need you. Now." Aemond lets out a moan as he feels your hands touching him. His breath becomes heavy as you spread your legs, revealing yourself completely to him. "God, I want you," he whispers, his voice desperate and raw. His breath becomes quick and heavy with every kiss. He reaches down to help you take off his trousers. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs to you, kissing you again. "And so much more incredible than I ever could have imagined."

"Gods, you're so hot," he moans, his voice full of passion. He kisses down your neck, feeling your hands all over his body. His hands move down your body holding your waist in a tight grip, feeling your curves and groaned as he pulled your panties to the side seeing how soaked you were. Your body is just as he imagined it would be, and your eagerness to get him inside of you is too much for him to resist. "I need you too, Angel. I need you so badly," Aemond moans in pleasure as you wrapped your legs around him, allowing him to slide his hard cock into your wall walls and explore your body with his hands. He quickly removes his shirt, his chest and abs visible for you to see. One of his hands caressed your waist, your thighs, and your breasts. His lips continue to kiss passionately at your neck, his touch making you moan even louder. "You are mine," he whispers seductively into your ear.

[harrysarchive]

A request where Harry styles is a college football star student who has a crush on his single sexy proffesor, reader. One day, reader asked him to see after class

after class: h.s.

pairing: fratboy!harry x professor!reader

summary:

"i can tell you like the thought of this rendezvous with me." i smirk and she gasp.

"that is very inappropriate mr. styles."

or

fratboy harry has a hot professor and she calls him in after class.

warning:

SMUT 18+ PLEASE

p.s.a i didn't write the exact request but this is what i felt comfortable writing! thank you for the request! <3

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘'𝐒

𝐏𝐎𝐕

i let out an exaggerated sigh as i make my way to english literature, introduction to romantic poetry was the lesson of the week. at least the professor is bangin' hot. thick thighs, amazing curves and what looks like a d-cup set nicely on her chest.

professor y/l/n.

she was a recent graduate of the University of Georgia, the current school i was attending. a full ride football scholarship, i was the best wide receiver in the nation, uni's form all states where trying to pull me. i made the decision to attend UGA on logistics, the best football team in all the states, currently undefeated.

"you ready to see our professor?" niall snaps me out of my thoughts wiggling his eyebrows.

"bloody hell, yes. i don't think i could thank my advisor more for forcing me to do this class." i snicker and he chuckles shaking his head.

"tell me 'bout it." he comments licking his lips and i scrunch my face in disgust.

"watch yourself horan." i mumble as i see a group of girls waving at me and sending winks my way, i send them a wave before averting my eyes.

niall throws a punch at my arm before starting a light jog and i huff out a laugh before following him. sooner than later we find ourselves in professor y/l/n's lecture hall.

"romantic poetry is the poetry of the Romantic era, an artistic, literary, musical and intellectual movement that originated in Europe towards the end of the 18th century." professor y/l/n's states as she walks around her desk, a gray pencil skirt hugs her curvy hips, her freshly shaven legs on display, and a black turtleneck that sticks to her skin like glue. "i've decided to take a different route then the normal, 'Sonnet 18 by the beloved William Shakespeare', and instead we will start this unit with something from my background, 'El Beso' by Angelina Weld Grimké. which translates to 'the kiss', Grimké wrote the poem about a love song, full of passion, yearning, and confused emotions."

i lick my lips and pull my bottom lip between my teeth, she sits back on the desk and her hips plush out even more.

i never would've thought i could listen so much in a class.

"as like your other projects in my class you will either make a short story, making it easier for the common eye to read or, you will make a photo reflection. with that being said i would also like a short summary over 'El Beso.' she smiles at the class, "any questions?" no one raises their hand except, well me. "yes mr. styles?" she cocks an eyebrow.

"what is the grade point based on?"

"like all your other projects it depends on efficiency, the structure and etcetera." she replied folding her hand in-front of her chest, "also if i could see you after class mr. styles, we need to talk."

my heart drops to the pit of my stomach and i gulp down the knot in my throat, "of course professor y/l/n."

i'm fucked.

"thank you so much for working hard today! i cant wait to see all of the things you guys have come up with. there will be a short quiz over El Beso next class so study hard!" professor y/l/n shooes everyone out, class ticked by at the slowest rate known to man kind.

i stand awkwardly at the foot of her desk and wait till she turns around beaming a smile at me.

"ah mr. styles! exactly who i wanted to see. please follow me to my office." she starts walking towards the direction of the locked office and opens it with her key.

"now no need to be scared, just wanted to talk to you about your grades." she smiles pointing me to sit in the chair in front of her desk.

she slides into her rollie chair as well and pulls out a manila folder with my name on the top right corner.

"okay it's just that you seem to be doing exceptional in my class, you are one of the top students that i have."

"but..?" i wait for the wooing factor that's bound to happen.

"but you are barely passing your other classes." she pulls out what looks like a report card you would get in grade school.

"a seventy is passing." i state bluntly as i look over the grades.

"that is true mr. styles, very true but how are you making seventy precent in all other class and passing mine with a ninety percentage average?"

it's because you make me focus.

"how do i make you focus?" she answer the question i thought was just in my head.

"i don't know okay? i mean look at you! you're the hottest professor i have! it hard not to pay attention when you are the professor!"

her eyes widen at my outburst and her ears flush, she straightens herself out and i notice that she squeezes her thighs together.

"i'm sorry? that i distract you?" she stutters putting her glasses on the top of her head.

"i can tell you like the thought of this rendezvous with me." i smirk and she gasp.

"that is very inappropriate mr. styles."

i get up and make my way towards her side of the desk pulling her chair out, i let my hands travel up her sides and to her shoulders, massaging them slowly as she lets out a whine.

"tell me this doesn't turn you on. the thought of you and me. me bending you over this goddamn desk and me fucking you senseless." i whisper in her ear and a shiver runs down her spine.

"we can't." she says bluntly causing a chuckle to leave my mouth.

"i didnt ask if we could did i, love?" she holds back an answer and i bring my lips to her neck pressing kisses on her sensitive skin, "i asked if this turns you on."

she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and murmurs, "fuck it." before spinning around and crashing her lips with mine. i eagerly kiss back slipping my tongue between her mouth, she lets a moan slips out. i slip between her legs and my arms grab underneath her thighs picking her up with ease.

"wait," she whines pulling apart and pushing my chest.

"what baby?" i practically cry out wanting nothing more than to kiss her puffy lips again.

"the door, i didn't lock it."

i let out a chuckle before dropping her to her feet and briefly pecking her lips, quickly locking the door. y/n leans over the desk, the plump of her ass sticking out.

"so you do want this?" i muse as my hand runs along down arch of her back.

"shut up and fuck me." she grunts through gritted teeth causing my cock to swell in my pants.

i slip a hand through the front of her skirt splitting her sleek folds before my thumb makes contact with her sensitive puffy clit rubbing tight circles, her whimpers and moans start to fill the air, "you're soaked baby." i mumble in her ear and she shivers.

"please." she pleas, grabbing ahold on her skirt hiking it up and they bunch on her plump hips.

"wanna taste ya cunt first." i groan sitting in her chair as i pull down her red lace thong, "ya tryna to kill me."

pressing a kiss to the arch of her back i make my way down to her puffy cunt, jesus fuck, i spread her glistening folds pressing a kiss to her clit, she lets out a breathy moan before pushing her hips back licking a broad stripe through her folds, muffling my own groan of pleasure.

"oh harry." she shuddered pulling her hand to her mouth, trying to suppress the small moans and whimpers that were trying to escape her.

"no," i growl against her and slap her plushy ass, "let them out, i wanna her you."

her jaw fell open as a beautiful pornographic moan erupted through the room, knuckles white as they fisted the bottom of the desk, nails digging in the wood leaving small angry marks, her hips pushing back into my face.

my hands were around her thighs, pulling her closer to me, holding her still as she huffed out a breath through her swollen lips. i begged her with my actions, digging fingers into her beautiful melanin flesh and willed her to cum on my face.

"har, 'm gonna cum!" she moaned bucking her hips.

"do it." i spat shortly.

she lets out a high pitched moan as her orgasm hits her, i let her ride it out coaxing her swollen clit. my hands quickly unbutton my pants and i yank them down along with my boxers.

"got my cock leaking honey." i muse lightly fisting my bulge.

"fuck me please." she whines arching her back further.

"yeah you want my cock bad?" i tease swiping my swollen tip through her velvet folds.

not wanting to tease us both any longer i positioned my cock at her entrance, pushing inside her in one fluid motion. she moaned loudly, my hands moving to her lower back, fingers digging into her skin i groaned at the feeling of being inside her. i fucked into her at a torturously steady pace. she grounded her hips down to meet my movements, desperate for more, silently begging me to meet that soft spot inside of her. my hand moves to her neck, wrapping around her throat and she whines.

" 's good." she slurred as her legs start to buckle.

i pull her up with the hand that's around her neck, moving it to her face before turning her head to give her a bruising kiss. once we pulled away i push her down again my hips snapping faster craving a release. i looked at her like she was artwork, displayed just for me in a pornographic arch. my pace was fast, smooth and shallow thrusts, keeping my hips angled so my cock could hit that spongy place that makes her eyes roll back.

"faster h! please!" she cried pushing her hips back, i rocked my hips faster against her before looking down where we connected, i gather saliva in my mouth before spitting between us.

"that's it baby, that's it, take it like a good girl." i gasp out gripping her hips with an iron grip not letting her run from my thrust. i felt her spazzing around me and a choked moan left my lips, my hand moves around to her front and my thumb connects with her swollen pearl.

"cum for me baby." i grunt and she lets out a whine clawing the front of her desk.

she clenched around me and i let out a gasp as we both finally released. my thrusts we're starting to slow down, giving her a sharp pump keeping my cock there as her orgasm hit her. she screams my name as her eyes closed and legs shook. i stood above her as i waited for her pulse to calm down. i let out a breathy chuckle before pulling out and grabbing a tissue for the box of her desk. i quickly clean her before placing a kiss on her plump ass and pull her thong up.

"what do you want for dinner love?" i ask as she pushes her skirt back into place.

she turns around with a smile on her lips before pushing me to sit in her chair and sitting in my lap, "dunno, we haven't gone grocery shopping this week, we have nothing in the fridge."

i play with the diamond ring that rested on her left hand before bringing it to my lips and placing a kiss on it.

"i can go if you want sum pet."

"yeah been craving your chicken parm." she groans out rubbing her stomach, i let out a chuckle before kissing her lips.

"okay want anything else?"

"those crisps i like, the spicy ones." she hums running a hand through my hair, "best fiancé out there."

"yeah? 'm the best?" i tease her and she nods.

a/n: PLOT TWIST😭🤣🤣 i knew i wanted them to have a real relationship but i didn't know if i wanted it to be a "they use to date" relationship or a "they're engaged" relationship😋

also a lil introduction about me i'm 19! my full name is emily but please call me em! i am mexican (MEXICORRY RISE🇲🇽) my pronouns are she/her/hers. i've been a fan of harry since xfactor days so i'm not new to this fandom🫶🏽 that's all you get rn ;)

-all the love,

em

xo🐝

[onegianthotmess]

“The Day I Fell For You…”

(Leona Kingscholar x Morel Rosehearts)

Synopsis: During one of Leona’s many naps, his mind somehow wanders back to his most sacred and treasured memory from his first year at Night Raven College; the day that Morel Rosehearts finally blew her top after being fed up with his laziness. He wonders why he treasures such an annoying and one-sided argument until he remembers how it ended and finally realizes that it was the moment he fell in love, not that he’d ever admit it.

Leona groaned as he was stirred from his nice nap he was having in his favorite spot of the botanical garden by a girl’s voice. He was about to tell the girl to buzz off until he realized that the voice was familiar and not that of a random student. Peaking open one emerald green eye, Leona’s fears and annoyances had come true. The fourth year Heartslabyul Housewarden, Morel Rosehearts, had woken him up from another nap probably for classes.

Again.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! It’s time for your after school classes!” Morel smiled, a bit strained since this was the last day of the school week and she was exhausted after dragging Leona from class to class and from going to her own classes.

However, Leona took no pity on his upperclassman and merely scoffed, “What’s missing one day of after school classes?”

“It’s missing out on finishing those three Potionology reports you have! I already went over it all with you and we put together the basic structure of each of them, all you have to do is fill in a few gaps and put it all together!” Morel replied, trying to maintain her usual cheerfulness. “It’ll only take an hour if you get to it! So, let’s go!”

“Meh, no thanks,” Leona said flatly, closing his open eye with the intention of falling back asleep.

“Leona, I wasn’t giving you an option to say no to your work,” Morel sighed, gingerly rubbing her temple to prepare for the headache she could already feel forming. “You have to do it. Even if I have to sit with you the whole time you do it, I’m going to make sure you finish those reports and turn them in to Professor Crewel!”

“Listen, herbivore,” Leona almost sneered as he opened both of his sharp eyes, “you can try all you want, but I’m not letting you ruin this nap for me. You’ve been on my tail all year about class work and shit, so I’d like for you to not ruin at least one of my naps for once. Is that too much to ask?”

“Leona,” Morel grumbled before closing her eyes, taking a calming breath, and opening her deep blue eyes once more and looking down at the lazy lion once more. “I’m trying to help you. You’ll spend the rest of your days as a student here or get expelled with how you’re acting! I know you’re smart and that you’re good at the work, you just need to try. Is it too much for me to ask you to try even just a little?”

“Yeah, it is,” Leona replied flatly. “You’re probably one of the most dense herbivores I’ve ever met.”

Morel’s face started to turn red with frustration, her annoyance filled anger slowly beginning to show on her face and through her body language. But, she was nothing if not a tolerant person and a lady who was taught manners. With another breath, Morel spoke once more, “Leona, I’d like to say again that I am trying to help you and that I know you can do it from what I’ve seen of you. All you need to do is try, okay? You don’t even have to do all three reports today. Just finish the oldest one, turn it in to Crewel, and I’ll let you off the hook for the whole weekend. Just please come to your after school class with me.”

“Such an annoying herbivore. Just doesn’t know when to quit, does she?” Leona thought to himself, internally rolling his eyes at Morel’s words.

The prince opened his eyes sat up and looked up at his upperclassman. Morel was clearly trying to hold herself together, her face slightly red, visible frustration on her face, her tone straining to keep its usual cheerfulness, and one of her fists was clenched so tight that the lion beastman could hear the almost mute sound of the leather of her glove rubbing against itself. However, he couldn’t really find it in himself to care about anything other than his nap being disturbed. Morel should focus on herself if she really wanted to see students succeed. If she focused on the boy sitting on the ground in front of her so much, her own grades would likely plummet.

“Look, Morel, I’m gonna make this nice and simple for that thick head of yours, so listen up,” Leona stated, barely noticing how said girl tensed up even more with frustration at being called dense. “I will not do that work even if it kills me. I got better things to do and I’m sure you do, too. So, why not leave me alone and let me nap while you go off and study or drag another student to their after school classes since that’s all you do, anyway? That clear enough for you, herbivore?”

Morel stood there and took what Leona said in, especially the last word he spoke that was filled with even more venom than the most poisonous viper she could think of. Was that what he really thought? The white haired girl could vaguely hear a snapping sound before the floodgates of her frustration burst and she let out all of her anger into the prince.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Morel shouted, face red and voice so loud that it spooked the birds in the garden.

Leona himself even jumped at the sound of the short girl’s booming voice. He’d never heard her yell, much less actually cuss and swear.

“Herbivore?” Leona asked quietly out of shock, but was ignored by the angered Housewarden.

“DO YOU THINK THAT I GO PATROLLING AROUND LOOKING FOR STUDENTS TO DRAG TO CLASS?! IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK?! THAT I DO THIS BECAUSE I WANT TO?!” Morel shouted, uncaring of any possible passerby who could witness her outburst. “I ONLY DO THIS WITH YOU BECAUSE I TRIPPED OVER YOU THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! I HAVE NEVER DONE THIS WITH ANYONE ELSE BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE ACTUALLY HAVE ENOUGH OF A SENSE OF SELF WORTH TO ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN SLEEP AND WASTE THEIR TALENTS LIKE YOU DO!”

Leona could only sit there, for once speechless and without any sort of comeback to throw at his upperclassman. He couldn’t really believe what he was experiencing, but he was too shocked to do or say anything.

“YOU ARE ONE OF THE SMARTEST AND MOST TALENTED MAGES I HAVE EVER SEEN AND YET YOU WASTE ALL OF YOUR POTENTIAL AND TALENTS BY JUST SLEEPING THE DAY AWAY! YOU HAVE SO MUCH POTENTIAL AND YOU’RE FINE WITH THROWING IT OUT THE WINDOW?!” Morel yelled, on the verge of frustrated tears. “I DO THIS FOR YOU! IT ISN’T FOR ME, IT’S FOR YOU! IT’S BECAUSE I BELIEVE IN YOU AND YOUR POTENTIAL AND TALENTS! YOU’RE SMART AND HAVE THE MAKINGS OF AN AMAZING MAGE! YOU DON’T BELIEVE YOU DO, BUT I BELIEVE YOU CAN BE TRULY AMAZING IF YOU JUST TRY!”

Tears now streamed freely down Morel’s flushed face. She’d finally stopped yelling and shouting and just panted like she’d just run across campus in thirty seconds. Eventually her panting turned into sobs and she began to quietly cry, her hands covering her face as she wept, unaware to how speechless she’d left Leona. Well, it took a few moments, but he eventually did speak.

“What’re you cryin’ about?” Leona asked, trying to retain his usual gruff tone of voice.

“I-I just,” Morel stuttered out, taking a moment to calm her crying before she continued, “I just can’t believe I’ve met someone so amazingly smart and talented, someone with one of a kind skills, who can’t bring himself to even move anywhere unless it’s for a nap. I know you can be a great mage and I told myself I wouldn’t give up on you, but how can I not give up on you when you’ve clearly given up on yourself so long ago?”

Morel couldn’t help but go back to her quiet sobbing, covering her face once more as soft murmurs of her not wanting to give up escaped her lips, as Leona sat on the ground completely shocked and floored.

She didn’t want to give up on him? Leona had never met anyone who hadn’t given up on him since he was born. He was always the second choice, the lesser of him and his brother, always the prince and never the king. He’d been looked down on and compared to his big brother since before he could remember, even by people assigned to educate and take care of him where his mother couldn’t due to her duties and where his father couldn’t bother.

Not once could Leona remember someone giving him such compliments or putting in so much effort to help him succeed. He never thought people like that existed. Yet, here he was, sitting on the ground in front of a human three years older than him and half a head shorter than him who was crying because she’d reached the end of her rope and still didn’t want to give up on him and unloaded some of the nicest things Leona had ever heard someone say about him.

The whole ordeal suddenly made Leona feel ashamed of his past actions towards Morel, but he also felt his chest tighten and warm along with his cheeks beginning to turn a light shade of red. He was incredibly grateful that Morel had covered her face again so she couldn’t see Leona’s flushed face or his ears matted against his head and his tail curled around him in shame.

But, just as soon as Leona began to feel this way, he just as quickly began questioning why he was feeling this way. And how could a simple herbivore make him feel like this? He was about to get pissed at himself and his upperclassman before he looked up at her and saw her face. Morel had turned to the side, clearly crestfallen and, for once, completely unsure of what to do next. Tears stained her flushed cheeks and her eyes were slightly red from crying. She clearly didn’t want to give up, but she couldn’t see a way she could turn the situation around and get Leona to at least compromise with her.

And Leona finally saw the toll his actions had taken on Morel. She’d been doing this since the beginning of the year, and the first semester was nearly over without any improvement with Leona’s behavior. She hadn’t seen him try more than she made him or seen him do more than what she’d helped him with. And Leona finally realized how much of, well, a jerk he’d been to someone who just wanted him to succeed.

After a moment of contemplating what to do, Leona finally swallowed his pride for once. He sighed, got up off the ground and grabbed Morel’s hand.

“C’mon, herbivore. Let’s get you to the bathroom so you can clean yourself up before we go to my after school class, yeah?” Leona said, looking straight ahead and dragging his upperclassman forward by her hand.

“H-Huh?” Morel murmured, surprised by Leona’s sudden action.

The prince rolled his eyes and huffed, “I’m gonna take you to the girls’ bathroom so you can clean yourself up before we go to my after school class and get my reports finished. Got that, herbivore?”

“B-But…why-why’re you…?” Morel asked, her voice trailing off as the prince dragging her along stopped walking before taking a breath and turning around to face her.

“Look, what you said made me realize I’ve been a complete ass to you, and I’m sorry,” Leona stated tensely, not used to apologies. “So, I’m going to try and be a bit nicer and maybe try to stay awake in a few classes. Just so you don’t cry and yell at me for stupid stuff again, okay?”

Morel blinked. Was she dreaming or was Leona really and sincerely apologizing to her?

After taking a moment to let it all sink in, Morel smiled, “Alright, then. Thank you, Leona, your apology means a lot to me.”

“Tch, whatever,” Leona grumbled under his breath, quickly turning on his heel and walking again, keeping his face cast slightly downward so no one would see his flushed features.

Maybe he’d fallen in love, or maybe he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure, being unfamiliar with these sort of feelings. But, Leona did learn a couple things from what just happened.

Morel really had an angelic smile when she was truly feeling happy. And he’d really like to be the cause of that sweet, sweet smile much more often.

•—————————————————•

Leona’s eyes fluttered open as he woke up from another good nap, probably one of the better ones he’d had this week. A big yawn escaped him as he looked around, slightly confused at where he was.

Wasn’t he just dragging Morel off to the girls’ bathroom so she could get cleaned up before going with him to his after school class? How did he get one the ground in the same napping spot he was in earlier? And where was Morel?

“Oh, so you woke up on your own, did you, Kitty?”

Leona quickly sat up and whipped his head around to see Morel looking at him, laughing a bit behind her hand. She looked different, her hair being longer and she was wearing casual but presentable clothes, and her lips and nails were painted a dark shade of purplish red that beautifully contrasted her soft, porcelain like skin.

Ah, now he remembered. He was having a dream, though it was more of him remembering what happened roughly three years ago in the same spot he was sitting in.

“Tch, you know you shouldn’t scare someone like that,” Leona huffed, pausing as he stretched and yawned. “Especially if they’ve just woken up from one of the better naps they’ve had all week.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I figured your naps must all be pretty nice if you nap through most of your classes, Leona,” Morel laughed lightly, a playful tinge of sarcasm in her voice that made the prince force himself to bite back a fond grin.

“Just because I take a good amount of naps doesn’t mean that all of them are good ones, herbivore. Now what do you want?” Leona asked, rolling his eyes a bit.

Morel smiled and hummed a bit, “Well, it’s lunchtime and I’d figure I’d go looking for you to spare poor, sweet Ruggie the trouble since I know your favorite napping spots haven’t changed.”

“So you came to find me here to take me to lunch? That’s it?” Leona asked flatly.

“Oh, no, I didn’t do that,” Morel smiled with a shake of her head, moving the hand she had behind her back out in front of her to reveal the two bags she was holding, one being a to-go bag from the cafeteria and the other being her own lunch bag she brought herself. “I got you lunch and thought we’d eat out here since you like the garden so much.”

“Fine, I won’t say no to food,” Leona sighed scooting a bit to the side as Morel walked over to him and plopped herself down next to him.

“Good, because I’m not giving you the rest of your lunch or any of your dessert until you eat this small salad I got for you,” Morel smiled, pulling out a small container from one of the bags along with a plastic fork and placing them into Leona’s hands.

The beastman frowned and took the lid off of the container in his hand, only to scowl at the contents within. Sure enough, it was a small garden salad that was just lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, and cucumbers with a bit of light dressing on top.

Leona looked at Morel and huffed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Oh, no, Kitty, I’m not kidding you,” Morel tutted, shaking her head. “You’re going to eat that whole thing or you’re not getting the rest of or lunch or any dessert.”

“Or you could eat it for me?” Leona offered with a sly smirk, trying to place the small salad and plastic fork into Morel’s hands.

“Bad kitty!” Morel scolded, taking out her spray bottle and spraying the prince beside her twice, making him recoil. “Eat your veggies or no meat or dessert for you!”

“Okay, okay! Just put the bottle away!” Leona grumbled, frowning as he quickly scarfed down the salad that was given to him. After letting out a disgusted groan once he was finished, the beastman showed the empty container to the white haired woman next to him.

Morel peered into the empty container before nodding in approval, “Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it, Kitty?”

“You and Ruggie are fucking evil,” Leona huffed as Morel took the empty container from him and replaced it with a sandwich wrapped in foil.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I figured you’d like a pulled pork sandwich,” Morel smiled as she began to eat her own lunch, which looked like a homemade bento box with sushi, rice, and vegetables. “Also, me and Ruggie just want you to be healthy. Meat can’t give you all of the nutrients you need, you know!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leona muttered before he bit into his sandwich, happy to finally get the taste of salad out of his mouth.

The two adults both sat in silence as they ate, content with the comfortable silence between them.

“It sort of feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?” Morel murmured as she held her empty bento box in her hand.

Leona, who was eating his small dessert, looked at Morel with a raised brow. “What feels like yesterday?” he inquired, earning a soft, shy laugh from the woman.

“The day I blew up at you,” Morel replied, a look of mixed apology and melancholy washing over her youthful face. “I felt so bad about yelling at you for weeks after, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I just wanted you to see the one of a kind talent and potential that I saw in you, that I still see in you. But I can’t tell you how to view yourself, can I, Kitty?”

“No, you can’t. You can’t make anyone do anything, really,” Leona murmured.

“Unless you’re my mother,” Morel whispered bitterly under her breath. Even Leona’s good ears couldn’t quite catch what she said.

“What’d you say?” Leona asked, earning a sheepish smile and a shake of the head from the shorter woman.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just mumbling to myself,” Morel smiled before letting out a soft sigh. “You know, I view that day as the first day you saw yourself a little differently. But, I’ve always wondered, what do you view that day as, Leona?”

Leona looked at Morel, who just blinked her big deep blue eyes at him as she patiently waited for his answer. The beastman knew he couldn’t admit what he truly saw that day as, he couldn’t bring himself to.

“The day I gave in,” Leona mumbled.

“Come again?” Morel asked.

Feigning annoyance and sighing, Leona huffed, “I view that day as the day I gave in, alright? You happy now, herbivore?”

Morel blinked before she burst out laughing. Leona’s ears turned down in annoyance and embarrassment as the white haired woman laughed for a few moments, moments he spent telling himself that the woman’s laugh wasn’t a sound he’d imagine coming from the most heavenly and sweet of angels.

“Oh, you truly do have even more pride than a full grown lion, don’t you?” Morel sighed as she finished laughing. “You’re so much fun to be around, Leona!”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not half bad yourself,” Leona mumbled, trying to maintain his usual gruffness.

“Well, it should be about time for class and I promised Ruggie to get you to your History of Magic class with Trein,” Morel smiled as she got up and picked up his bag of trash. “So, let’s go, Kitty!”

Leona groaned as he got up, knowing it was futile to argue with Morel, and began to follow her. As he was led to Professor Trein’s classroom, the prince could only think about Morel’s question of what he saw that day as. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, at least not anytime soon.

But, in the back of his head, he knew…

“That day really is the day I fell for you…”

A/N: I know, I’m a disgusting fluffy, mushy, lovey dovey romantic SAP. And I am not ashamed of it! Also, I did this in one day, so I’m really proud of myself and this fic! I hope you enjoyed the fluff and Leona’s denial!!!

[cowgurrrl]

OKAY WAIT

late night talks with college!joel - how reader and him came to date. they were studying they got distracted talking about something and stayed up all night taking. now joel can get her off his mind. 😉

thank you harry styles <3

I’ll kiss you on the mouth dude I love this idea

UPDATE: I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO END IT AND IF IT WASNT FOR MY MELATONIN KICKING IN I WOULDVE CONTINUED IT

She’s got a book for every situation

Pairing: college!joel x fem!reader

Summary: this ask

Author’s note: typed in tumblr and not proofread so god speed slayers 🫡

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, Joel being The Biggest Flirt, June your BA in English is showing, I think that’s it??

Working at the writing center on campus has its perks. You get unlimited printing, editing experience, and free coffee. Granted, it’s from a pot that had been simmering for several days but it’s free nevertheless. You’ve even managed to get in good with a few professors who would recommend their students come to you if they need help. Normally, they don’t take the advice until finals week and they all scramble into your office all at once. So, when a tall guy with curly dark hair walks into your desolate lobby, you’re a little surprised. He looks lost with a stack of papers piled in his hands and visibly relaxes when he sees you peek your head out.

“Hey there. Can I help you?” You ask, approaching him.

“Maybe. ‘M from Dr. Phillips class and she said to come to the writing center and ask for…” He trails off as he glances down at his paper before saying your name. “Said she might be able to help me with my paper.”

“Yeah, I think she can help you with your paper.” You say and hold out your hand to grab the red inked paper. It’s a paper on Kerouac who’s never been your favorite. In fact, you wrote an entire paper about how pretentious and privileged Jack Kerouac actually was but that’s neither here nor there. The bottom line is that you know how to write a paper professors are looking for. You feel his eyes scanning your face as you read his thesis and try to ignore the blush creeping over your cheeks.

“I take it you’re the brilliant writer Dr. Phillips likes so much.” He says. You smile but don’t take your eyes off his words so you don’t get distracted by his presence.

“Dr. Phillips doesn’t like anyone.”

“She seemed to like you. Told me all about how smart you are,” he says. “Never mentioned the pretty part, though.” Finally, you look up and meet his gaze.

“Technically Dr. Phillips isn’t allowed to recommend one student editor over another. It’s against our policy and makes things a little fairer for everyone. So, can we keep this little secret between us…” you let your sentence end, realizing you never asked his name, and he holds out his free hand.

“Joel.” He says and you shake his hand.

“Well, Joel, I’ll tell you what. I’ll agree to help you get your paper in order if you agree to not get me fired. Fair deal?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He says politely.

You spend the rest of the day walking Joel through essay structures, grammar mistakes, and thesis issues. His argument is strong but it needs to be more concise and punchier. When you try to explain it to him in those terms, he looks at you like you’re from Mars. Eventually, after a little too much flirty small talk, he tells you about his dad’s construction company and you learn to put flowery, over dramatic writing advice into clean, neat boxes that he understands completely. Unfortunately, you don’t end up finishing the actual essay before the center closes.

“You’re free to come back tomorrow morning so we can finish this.” You say as you gather your things and stuff them in your backpack. Joel stretches in his chair, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a gorgeous sliver of tan skin and you have to force your eyes away from the sight.

“D’you live far from here?” He asks, standing and throwing his own backpack over one shoulder. You waffle for a moment, unsure if you want to tell this almost perfect stranger where you live.

“Maybe a ten minute walk. It’s not bad for Austin.”

“Can I walk you home? Since I kept you so late,” he asks. Once again, you hesitate. Joel doesn’t seem like the typical frat guy you’ve come to fear since your time at school. He actually seems gentle and genuine. You turn the thought over a few more times before he throws his hands up. “‘S just an offer to make sure you get home safe. I’ll even carry your backpack for you if you want.” He offers and you smile. You take another second before handing him your heavy backpack. He slings it over his free shoulder and walks to the door to open it for you, keys jingling in your hand as you lock up the writing center for the night. The humid Texas night suffocates you the second you step out into the fading daylight.

“You always carry girls’ backpacks home?” You ask as you start walking in the direction of your apartment. Campus is mostly empty this time of night, everyone crawling home after class to pregame or cry or both. Squirrels patrol the sidewalks for any students who may want to hand them a piece from their bagel or sandwich. Someone honks their horn in distant standstill Austin traffic, and the sun slowly slides behind the Capitol. It’s peaceful.

“Only when I make ‘em read my shitty writing.” He says and you laugh.

“Your writing’s not bad, Joel. It’s actually very good. Essays are just the worst to write.”

“You like ‘em enough to work at the writing center.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s what I actually care about,” you shrug. “At this point, I’m a warm body with a clicky pen.”

“Woah there, Kafka. I think you’re a little more than that,” Joel laughs and you have to laugh too. Not only for the perfectly on brand joke but for the tone in his voice. The playful lilt makes your head feel fuzzy. “Alright then, if you don’t like essays and you don’t like Kerouac, what do you like? What do you wanna write?” He asks and you take a deep breath. It’s a question you’ve fielded more than enough times in your college career to know that not many people like your answer.

“I’m not sure yet. I like a little bit of everything.”

“Have you written anythin’ I would’ve read?”

“No,” you laugh. “Probably not.”

“Why’s that funny?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Because nobody wants to publish my work. It’s too… rough.”

“Rough?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah. Publishers either want the next Great American Novel or nothing at all, and I am not next Great American Novel material.”

“How do you know?”

“Because nobody’s publishing me.”

“Maybe, you’re not lookin’ in the right places,” he says. “‘M just sayin’ someone as smart as you has to have somethin’ someone will wanna take.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go holdin’ your breath on me, cowboy.”

“Why do you do that?” He asks suddenly and you stop to look at him.

“Do what?” You ask.

“Try and play it off whenever someone compliments you.” He says with glaring honesty. It sets you back in your heels but you quickly recover.

“You’ve only known me for a few hours. How do you know I’m not just incredibly humble?”

“I guess I don’t,” he says. “Could I buy you a drink and figure it out?” It could be the way he, somehow, sees right through you already or the way his brown eyes look in the sunlight but you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach. You purse your lips together and dare a step closer to him.

“Tell you what, if you get an A on this paper, I’ll let you buy me a drink.” You say.

“And if I fail?” He asks and you shake your head.

“You won’t fail.”

“But what if I do?”

“If you do, you have to…” you search your brain. “Carry my backpack home for me for a week.”

“You drive a hard bargain, ma’am.”

“But I take it Joel Miller’s a bettin’ man.”

“See, smarter than you think.” He quips and you roll your eyes.

“One thing at a time, lover boy.”

Joel ends up getting the highest grade on his essay out of anyone in his class. Dr. Phillips commends his dedication to bettering his first draft and tells him to keep up the good work. “Whatever you did to change this, keep it up.” She says when she places his graded essay on his desk. When he presents the A to you at the writing center, all you can do is applaud him and smile.

“I told you you’d pass.” You say, poking at his firm chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “Maybe I just needed a little motivation.”

“Oh, yeah? What was that?”

“I think I was promised a date.” He says cheekily and you nod.

“You were, and my mama raised me to be a woman of my word,” you smile. “Jenny, do you mind closing up for me tonight?” You ask the receptionist and she shakes her head.

“Not at all, darlin’. Have a good night.” She winks at you when Joel turns his back and you stick your tongue out at her.

Say what you will about the writing center but you think a date with a broad, tall, handsome cowboy is the best thing that could’ve come out of that hell hole.