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#because college
beelzzzebub · 1 month
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guys. i'm going to a dance
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cotccotc · 2 years
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😳 hey
#hello#i. haven’t been logged in for around two months now#and#that is strange#but also not strange. which makes it even more weird#like i hate to say it but it felt healthy#i’m also not back. but i’m alive and i realized my not being here made me seem like i fell off the face of the earth#i am still on the earth ! i am alive and kicking !#and i really do miss being as deep into kpop as i was when i was more active. but i’m afraid my life has kinda shifted around a lot#because college#it’s really quite sad and i don’t want to make it seem like i’m not sad about it. but not to the extent where i’m not happy with things#loving where i’m at right now ! unsure of the future as always but u never know#does that make sense#i’ve clearly not gotten more coherent in thought since i’ve left. jsjfj#so#i think i’ll stay logged in for a few days maybe to check in on things and then will prob dip again#i’ve been thinking of making a new account for miscellaneous stuff? i know i have like 15 blogs already but starting off fresh sounds nice#and i’ll just talk about my recent interests and maybe post some poetry sometimes idk#i definitely miss it here :) and u guys !!!#idk. i have lots more i could say but i’ll save it for another time.#feel free to send asks or anons and what not i will either see them or respond to them :))#OH ALSO thank u for following me if u have followed me since i’ve been gone. very kind and sweet of u. also still super surreal. idk.#love u peeps <3#ok goodnight
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anonymousdandelion · 8 months
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A general tip for students who are sending those dreaded Religious Absence Emails to your professors: Rather than asking permission to take the day(s) off, politely let them know that you will be taking the day(s) off.
In other words, consider not saying this:
"May I miss class on [date] so I can observe [holiday]?"
It's not that there's anything wrong with the above, per se. But because it's phrased as a request, it risks coming across as optional — a favor you hope to be granted. Problem is, favors are not owed, and so unfortunately asking permission opens the door for the professor to respond "Thanks for asking. No, you may not. :)"
Instead, try something along the lines of:
"I will need to miss class on [date] because I will be observing [holiday]. I wanted to let you know of this conflict now, and to ask your assistance in making arrangements for making up whatever material I may miss as a result of this absence."
This is pretty formal language (naturally, you can and should tweak it to sound more like your voice). But the important piece is that, while still being respectful, it shifts the focus of the discussion so that the question becomes not "Is it okay for me to observe my religion?", but rather, "How can we best accommodate my observance?"
Because the first question should not be up for debate: freedom of religion is a right, not a favor. And the second question is the subject you need to discuss.
(Ideally, do this after you've looked up your school's policy on religious absences, so you know what you're working within and that religious discrimination is illegal. Just in case your professor forgot.)
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alenseress · 11 months
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I think I peaked with this art specifically
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mokeonn · 9 months
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"But if college was free, then people would abuse that and get useless degrees" hell yeah I would! If I could go to college without debt I would make it my job to get a degree in every little thing that interested me. I'd get a doctorate in film studies. I'd have a bachelor's degree for every science I like. I'd try to learn at least 5 languages with varying results. I would learn something "useful" like coding and then follow it up with a ""useless"" degree like art history. I'd be the world record speed run holder for getting every degree possible.
But I can't afford college without going into massive debt, so instead I spent the last 5 years trying to figure out what I am passionate enough about to consider going into debt over, because unfortunately being passionate about everything is extremely expensive to pursue.
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"college is the best years of your life" "college is for meeting new people and expanding your mind" wrong. college is for repeatedly learning that your foremost grievances with the world are ronald reagan's fault
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kaidatheghostdragon · 4 months
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Crack prompt: Danny has declared war on the curses in Gotham. He is armed with a water balloon gun, but the balloons are full of medical-grade ectoplasm. He targets any location, ghost, or liminal being tainted by curses and/or corrupted ecto - absolutely drenching them before yeeting off again.
This includes the Bats. Danny is smart about it, though. He lived in Gotham for several months before acting, so he could get the lay of the land. He also waits for patrol to be finished before hitting the Bats - he doesn't want to interrupt their Quest to Better Gotham (or be labeled an invader to their haunt).
One night, Danny happens upon Batman patrolling alone and waits for him to finish cleaning up a crime scene before hitting they guy with a half-clip of balloons. Batman gives chase, like he always does, and Danny runs, like he always does. He knows by now that, for whatever reason, Crime Alley is off limits to Batman. The whole alley just gives off "no (other) bats allowed" vibes.
Red hood is just more territorial. Whatever.
At any rate, Danny is enjoying the chase, using just enough ghost powers to stay ahead of batman, almost-but-not-quite taunting him. Crime Alley isn't too far, so instead of turning invisible around a corner like he usually does, he makes his way to the Alley to see if the no-trasspassing rule is enough to stop Batman mid-chase. He leaps across rooftops and weaves through fire escapes, ecto-balloon-gun bouncing by its strap against his back, until finally he's at the border, slightly tapping into flight to make the jump across a slightly wider road into the alley proper.
He turns around immediately, spotting Batman skulking on the rooftop on the other side of the road, stopping the chase and suit half-covered in healing ectoplasm.
"Sanctuary!" Danny yells, pumping his fists in the air from getting caught up in the exciting rush of adrenaline, "I claim sanctuary!"
"Who the fuck is claiming sanctuary in my territory?" Red Hood booms from almost directly behind Danny. He would have yeeted out of his own skin from surprise if he hadn't spent years honing his ghost-fighting instincts. As it was, Danny instead whirled around and emptied the clip of balloons into Hood, purely out of reflex.
Hood stood there, drenched in ecto like his fellow Bat one rooftop over, glaring murder at Danny with glowing eyes. But his haunt betrayed Hood's true emotions.
Surprise, concern, impressed, you-little-brat.
Danny booked it to the fire escape and turned invisible the second he was out of sight.
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bet-on-me-13 · 23 days
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Vampire Misunderstanding
So! Danny got adopted by Bruce Wayne, but he doesn't know that Bruce is the Batman. He is just supernaturally oblivious to all things Batman related going on in the House.
But he does notice that Bruce leaves home a lot at night, that he doesn't like to go out in the day and often has his parties at night, and once or twice he's caught Bruce with a bit if blood still splattered on his cheek.
So he comes to the only plausible conclusion. Bruce is a Vampire.
He starts trying to hint at the fact that he knows, but doesn't want to just go out and say it. What if Bruce reacts negatively to him knowing? He's dealt with enough Supernatural Beings to know that they don't like other people (and especially other supernatural beings) intruding on their lives.
So Danny decided to subtly hint at it.
He started asking questions like "So hypothetically, how would you deal with having a Garlic Allergy in Gotham?" Or "So if you had very sensitive skin that could sunburn extremely easily, how much cloud cover would you need to go outside?" And "So what's your opinion on a High-Iron Diet?"
Basically just tossing out questions and trying to Guage Bruce's reaction.
He thinks he's doing a good job!
...
Bruce is certain that he has adopted a Vampire.
Danny is a good kid, but he has a few oddities that are hard to ignore.
For one, his skin is constantly Ice Cold, but he never seens to be bothered by it. As if he was an Undead that didn't require Body Heat anymore.
He also seems to like Hanging out in the Graveyard outside, and when asked about it he says that he is comforted by the place. Just like the Vampires he has met in the past, who feel comfortable when surrounded by Death.
And of course the biggest reason for suspicion is the fact that Danny seems to be hinting at it to him.
He keeps asking stuff like "How would you deal with a Garlic Allergy in Gotham?", probably trying to hint that he is a Vampire who can't eat Garlic, or asking about easy to sunburn skin, saying that he is probably not a Daywalker.
Bruce hopes Danny will just come clean about it soon, he doesn't want to intrude upon the kid when he is so obviously nervous about how he will react.
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greenglowinspooks · 6 months
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To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound
Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.
He can see ghosts.
The ghosts know this.
Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.
Except for this one very stubborn dog.
It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?
And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.
He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.
Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.
Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.
Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.
Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.
And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.
(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)
Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.
Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.
And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.
(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)
Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.
Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.
Cue shitstorm.
Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?
Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.
Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.
Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.
Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.
Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.
Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!
Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.
You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?
Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.
He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.
And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.
The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.
Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.
A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.
Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.
And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.
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natjennie · 3 months
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the injustice of the rat grinders technically playing by the rules and getting lauded for it because they have discipline and are generally Good at School vs the bad kids literally saving the world every other day and having to play catch-up to be acknowledged for it. the way that public school only caters to people who are good at "playing the game" of the education system and anyone that can't function how the school deems you should under its strict policies and conditions is tossed aside and called a failure. how are we feeling, american public school survivors?
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morganbritton132 · 1 month
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Eddie post a Tiktok of an old home video. In the video, he’s twenty-one, messy haired, laying on his side in bed facing the camera, and he looks like shit. His eyes are glassy, his nose is rubbed red, and his voice is thick the way it always is when he’s sick.
“This is a message for future Eddie,” Eddie tells the camera. “If you decide to spend the rest of your life with a man that spends all his free time babysitting - and I know you, you do want to spend your life with him - get used to catching every virus in town.”
In the video, Steve pops up behind Eddie and wraps himself around him, looking just as sick. His eyes never open as he cuddles closer, resting his head in the curve of Eddie’s neck and his hand on his chest over his heart. Steve sounds like he’s already falling back to sleep when he asks, “Who’re you talking to?”
Eddie looks into the camera like, “Myself.”
“Say hi for me.”
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nadvs · 1 month
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watch and learn (part one)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use
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summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.
But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.
You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.
You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.
You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.
Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.
He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.
He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.
“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.
“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.
When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.
“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”
He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.
“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.
He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.
“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.
“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”
“What, you don’t like it?”
“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”
“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.
“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.
“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.
“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.
“Turn around.”
“What?” you snap.
“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.
His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.
“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.
“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.
“Yeah, actually, I might.”
A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.
“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”
“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.
“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.
“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”
“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.
“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.
“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.
The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.
She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.
“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”
“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.
“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”
Liv laughs.
“They should know when they suck,” she says.
You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.
“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”
Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.
That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.
You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.
“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.
“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”
“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.
Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.
Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.
You quickly look away.
Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.
He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.
“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.
You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.
“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.
“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”
“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”
“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.
“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”
You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.
“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”
Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.
“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”
Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.
“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”
“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”
You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.
“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”
You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.
“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”
Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.
“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”
“You can have those?” you ask.
“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”
You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?
“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”
You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.
He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?
You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.
“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.
“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”
“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”
“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.
“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.
If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.
“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“
You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.
“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.
“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.
“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”
“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”
Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.
“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”
Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.
“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.
You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.
You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.
After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.
About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.
You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.
“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”
“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.
“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.
“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.
But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.
“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.
His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.
With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.
“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.
“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.
“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.
While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.
“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”
You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.
“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”
“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”
You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.
“How sweet,” you say flatly.
Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.
He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.
You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.
“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”
“Yeah?” His brows furrow.
“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”
“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”
“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”
“So, what should I do?” he asks.
“Just… don’t rush,” you say.
Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.
A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?
Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.
“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”
“What?” you say.
“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.
You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.
“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”
“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”
He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.
When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.
You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.
“Is this too hard?” he asks.
“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”
“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”
“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”
Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.
He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.
Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.
He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.
“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.
You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.
“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.
“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.
“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”
“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.
Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.
Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.
“Now?” he asks impatiently.
“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”
“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.
He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”
“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.
“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.
“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”
“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.
“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”
You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.
“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.
He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.
Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.
“Can I finger you?” he says.
“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”
He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.
“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”
Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.
He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.
It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.
Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.
“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.
Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.
He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.
“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”
Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.
The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.
“I need to fuck you,” he says.
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”
He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.
You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.
He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.
“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”
You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.
He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.
His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.
“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.
He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.
Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.
“How was that?” he mumbles.
“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”
“Just good?”
You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.
“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”
“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”
You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.
“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”
It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.
“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.
“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.
Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”
part two
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julijbee · 28 days
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in awe of the beauty of the world
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visenyaism · 4 months
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i KNOW jaheira feels some kind of way about getting tricked into babysitting a bhaalspawn for the third time in a row. she thought she was safe investigating a new seemingly unrelated cult and then little miss dark urge wandered onstage wearing a propeller hat carrying a comically oversized rainbow lollipop like of COURSE i can kill ketheric thorm for you ms. jaheira! i’m soooo good at killing. why? don’t worry about it, I can be trusted with weapons😇
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undertheredhood · 3 months
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AU where jason todd goes back to school and gets a phd because while he was describing his multi-step plan to take over gotham and use bruce to kill the joker to talia she just said “oh, so you want to become a useless dropout just like your brother and father? talk about setting a bad example for damian.” which offended jason so much that he immediately re-enrolled to finish high school.
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*
Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.
And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.
And a few of them were also hot.
But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!
He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.
“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”
Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.
The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.
Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.
Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.
Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.
But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.
So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.
Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.
He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.
He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.
“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.
A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.
“What?” He hissed out.
“Do you understand this?”
“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”
Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.
“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.
Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.
“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”
“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.
“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”
Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.
“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”
Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.
“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.
“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”
“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”
Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”
“So you aren’t a natural at French?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”
“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.
“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.
Eddie kinda liked that.
“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”
Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.
“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”
Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.
By Steve Harrington.
“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”
Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.
“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”
Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.
Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required
When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.
Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.
Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.
Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉
Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.
Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.
And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.
He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.
Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.
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