#im here for a good time to distract my brain

[ihfmseatsoch]

ok ok ok so if i may be so bold as to request something, ive been enamored wiht the idea of an older, controlling, borderline abuse boyfriend jimmy, like he and reader live together on earth, and reader goes to college, while jimmy works physical jobs trying to support them both. he's a SHITTY person though, so hes jealous of any man the reader talks to, reads through their phone, makes sinde comments about their weight and appearance, and (im totally not projecting here) eventually pressures them into dropping out, for like his perfect little live in partner/gf fantasy sjdhasd feel free to do whatever with this, but this specific scenario has not left my head for days

WHEEE this was fun to write ^w^ i rushed this a bit but i just didnt want you to have to wait any longer... :p

—

Jimmy Zare x fem!reader

reader uses fem terms (girl, girlfriend)

genre: how do i categorize this.... fic that makes you feel bad or horny depending on how you handle verbal abuse lol

word count: 1.8k

warnings/content: age gap, domestic abuse, manipulation, arguing, fat shaming, several references to the readers body/appearance, jimmy being the biggest asshole oh my god i hate him (i want him so bad it makes me look stupid)

(is it bad that writing about jimmy yelling at me turns me on... WOAHHH who said that .....😰 also dont kill me for the weight shaming part IM A FAT GIRL !!!!!! i like when evil men are mean to me !!!!!! RAAAH)

—

"He's a good guy, he can actually be really sweet!"

That's a sentence you find yourself saying out of complete muscle memory at this point whenever someone questions why your boyfriend–... well, they question an awful lot about your boyfriend.

For example, why he's over twenty years your senior whilst you're still going to class on the weekdays. Why he doesn't allow you to see your friends, wear certain clothes, leave your apartment without him, and why he takes up so much space in your brain, completely distracting you from your own life and goals.

You've missed at least four assignments this semester alone. It's stupid, really. You thought you'd be done with obsessing and crying over boys after you graduated highschool. It's completely immature for a so-called adult like yourself, but then again, you're hardly into adulthood at all.

Jimmy, on the other hand, has a lot more life experience, many of those experiences negative. That might be why you've taken some form of pity on him, going so far as to move into his apartment so you can take care of him when you're not busy. He needs someone to make sure he doesn't fall off the deep end.

The thing is, it's become hard to fit him in your schedule, but whenever you're unable to make time for him after he comes home from work, that familiar scowl on his face indicating it was another shitty day, he throws a fit.

He'll accuse you of everything under the sun; Infidelity being the primary thing.

"You don't love me. There's someone else, isn't there? It's that one kid that asked you to help him 'study' last week, isn't it? No? Give me your fucking phone, then."

This is what you come home to everyday, so it's nothing new. In fact, you're pretty used to it by now. Though today, Jimmy seems particularly pissed.

"Where have you been?" He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, eyeing you up and down like he always does when he's about to grill you on something.

"Sorry..." You mutter, way too tired to deal with one of his moods again. "Traffic." You answer simply, not having enough energy to overexplain yourself like you normally do.

"Uh huh. Traffic." He mimics you in a way that already tells you he's not buying it. Great.

"...It's the truth." You shrink into yourself at the way he's looking at you. Contemptuous as always. You're in for another argument, it seems. A million, desperate pleas run through your mind;

'Please don't give me another lecture about how you're my only financial support, and how grateful I should be. Please don't ask to see my phone. Please don't tell me to drop out.'

But, of course, you can't actually change the outcome of this. You're gonna get yelled at. Belittled. Degraded.

"You're two hours late, and you're gonna tell me you were just stuck in traffic?" He pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you.

"You're never home when you're supposed to be, and when you are home, you're all tired and upset.” He pokes a finger into your shoulder, hard. "What do you think that looks like from my point of view?"

"I'm sorry." You rub your face, exasperated. God, you wish he would shut up sometimes. Sure, he can be amicable, but lately... he's been a raging dick. Yet, you can't help but cling to the memory of his good moments. "I'll try to make it back on time tomorrow."

"Yeah? And how many times have I heard that before?" He sneers, "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

The way he accuses you so confidently, so sure of himself... it's insulting. Does he really think that little of you? "College has been kicking my ass, Jim. You know that. I'm not hiding anything from you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, college this, college that. Always complaining about fuckin' college," He scoffs, his eyes stay narrowed, still glaring. "How about what I'm going through? You think I'm having a great time every day at work, hm?"

"No, I–" You stammer, hating the way he's turning this around to make himself the victim. Oh, woe is him, having to provide for himself and his girlfriend. How tortured he is. "I know, alright? I'm sorry. I just– what else do you expect me to do?"

"Be here. Like you're supposed to be. And I expect you to stop acting like I'm the bad guy for asking you to be a decent girlfriend."

Jimmy's voice raises slightly as he takes a step closer, towering over your sheepish figure. He nudges your shoulder again, even rougher this time.

"I'm busting my ass every day to put food on the table, and you can't even have the decency to show up on time, let alone look happy to see me?"

"I– I am happy to see you! I am, I'm just– you don't get it. I want to be here, but... I'm not even halfway through this semester, and–" You stumble over your words as you attempt, in vain, to defend yourself. It's not like he'll ever feel sympathy for you. It's always about what he wants. What makes him happy.

Jimmy rolls his eyes at your attempt to reason with him. It's as if he doesn't even register a word you say. "But what? What's more important to you, huh? Some stupid classes, or the guy who keeps a fuckin' roof over your head and feeds you? Be grateful, goddamn it." He snaps, grabbing your arms and giving them a forceful shake.

You flinch from being handled like you're not even a human being, much less one with feelings. "Stop, please, I'm– I am grateful, I really am..." You're not lying, either. To be honest, his guilt tripping works wonders on you. Are you really acting unappreciative? He wouldn't be this upset if you were in the right...

He seems unfazed by your frightened demeanor and continues to hold a firm grip on your arms. He looks you up and down, not even having to say anything for you to know he's judging you, as a girlfriend and person in general.

"Oh, you're grateful? Then maybe you should act like it for once." Jimmy gives your arms another firm shake, a harsh reminder of who's in charge here.

"I'm not asking much of you. I just want you to be here, and you can't even do that. Do you think I'm just gonna sit back and accept that bullshit?"

"No..." You shake your head, looking down at the ground in shame. Were you really that awful? You didn't want to be a bad partner, it's the last thing you ever wanted. If you could make eye contact without feeling guilty, you'd see Jimmy's face light up with satisfaction as he finally notices you're not even bothering to put up a fight anymore.

There's a condescending lilt to his tone as he speaks, "No one will ever love you like I do. You know that?"

You nod, knowing there has to be some truth to his claim. He takes care of you, doesn't he? He keeps a roof over your head, gives you money for groceries, and he's not always that unpleasant to be around...

He's a good boyfriend. You're the problem. You always are.

"Exactly."

The grip on your arms eases, moving them to place a hand on each of your shoulders, contrastingly gentle compared to his behavior only moments ago.

"You oughta thank your lucky stars you have a man like me who puts up with all your bullshit. You get that, right? How lucky you are to be with me?"

You know he's right. You were blessed with someone who still loves you, despite your many shortcomings. You're too fat, the acne on your face and body is repulsive, the way you do your makeup is weird... all of this being things Jimmy has told you directly. At least you have an honest boyfriend, isn't that what every girl wants?

He gives your shoulder a pat, like he's treating you like a small, petulant child. "You realize I could have literally any girl I want, right? Pretty, skinny, smart ones, even. But I chose you. Because I care about you."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"But it would help if you'd actually put the effort in to look decent." He adds as an afterthought.

You've internalized every single snide remark he's thrown your way, reminded of them every single time you look in the mirror. Yet he still loves someone like you. Someone so difficult and embarrassing to be with.

"Jim, I don't... I don't know how I'm even gonna be able to free my schedule at all with school and stuff..." You mumble guiltily. You know he wants you to drop out, he's suggested it more times than you can count.

"That right there, that's why I'm frustrated, goddamn it," He says with an exacerbated sigh. He moves one hand from your shoulder to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Why don't you get it? Dropping out isn't the end of the world. Just quit and stay home. Done. Easy."

"It's not that easy... I want to get a good job and help out too, you know..."

It's true that you want to pull your weight around your shared home. With your combined income, it'd make everything easier. But... with how shitty college makes you feel, leaving you beaten down and tired by the end of the day...

You find yourself listening to Jimmy on this for once.

He can tell you're seriously contemplating it this time, which makes him feel... more in control. He's got you thinking and believing exactly what he wants you to. Soon, he'll be able to get you to obey him without another word from you.

The thought of having you as his subservient, stay at home girlfriend is more than appealing. It's his goal to mold you into what he wants you to be.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that, I know. But you're stressing yourself half to death, and for what? Some stupid degree? Listen to me, I'm not gonna ask you again. You're just creating problems that don't need to exist. Just quit. You'll have plenty of free time that you can spend with me."

You can't deny how tempting the idea is. Hesitantly, after several moments of pondering the hypotheticals and what-ifs, you speak up,

"...I guess... dropping out wouldn't hurt too much."

He perks up at that, barely being able to contain a delighted grin. You're actually putting him and his wants first, and acknowledging that he's right. You're doing as he says, without any of the usual arguing or excuses. He'll finally have his dream complaisant, docile girlfriend to come home to every night.

It only took a month or two to finally get you to cave. You'll be easier to control from now on. Hell, maybe you'll lose some weight with some free time on your hands, stop wearing that shitty makeup...

"Good girl," He says in a patronizing tone, like he's addressing a child, "That's what wanna hear."

God, you really hope this isn't a bad idea. Jimmy looks pleased for once, so...

This decision can't possibly ruin your future too badly, right?

—

[aria0fgold]

Everything is so wrong with my tumblr I am grgrrjrjugskgvhgvjbm. Oh my god. What is happening??? The links are broken?? Is it just me? Why is everything breaking????? There's always, ALWAYS an extra https:?//hrefli? smth smth or wtv at the beginning of the url and im like, gurl pls, why is that there, why must you torment me with the extra step of checking the url, deleting that thing, just for the page to load properly. Why is the dash looping, i just saw a post where the user at the reblog was blank, what is going on bro?????

[rubiesintherough]

.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[rosemehdee]

Taking a hiatus

[glitzybunny]

The consequences of my actions are coming up to me, im gonna throw up NSKAJGKSNSKCJAJSJXN

[dynjay]

I'm currently obsessed with 2 things presently:

The new Mario movie

And the game Pizza Tower

May ramble about them later hahahaha

[roseandbee]

Negative temps are gonna make me nocturnal 😣🥶

[gibbearish]

Congrats on sending that application!

THANK UUUUUU

[mariasont]

EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕

I Aim To Please - S.R

a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader

warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease

wc: 1.5k

There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.

That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.

Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.

The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.

Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"

"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."

"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."

You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.

"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."

Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.

"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."

"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."

You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.

But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.

"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."

"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."

"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."

"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."

Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.

"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.

"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."

Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."

Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."

You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.

"I don't... I don't know about that."

He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"

"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.

He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.

"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."

His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"

Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”

"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”

"Please, no."

"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."

"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.

"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."

Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.

Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you."

He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."

"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."

You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."

"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."

"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."

You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.

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[daenysx]

lovely Hii

Can i get poly!marauders x fem reader where maybe she has been exhausted and busy lately and maybe they’re giving her some space cause they dont know if she wants affection now but she sees them all lovey dovey with eachother all the time and she feels sad cause she wants to join but feels too shy to ask so she tries to discreetly slip back and one of them notices?

Im sorry if that is a bunch of gibberish but i have been awake for over a day now and my brain is fried (i hate uni)

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy <333

(comments are always appreciated and i literally need to see what you think to keep writing, angels. of course i can't force you to send me anything but it would be amazing if you take two seconds to tell me what you think. it's not always easy to keep doing something without getting any feedback about it ♡)

poly!marauders x fem!reader

the relationship between james and remus has always been somewhat chaotic.

they have huge chemistry, maybe something like opposites attract situation. remus is calm when james is bubbling with excitement, remus loves with silent kisses when james loses his breath as he makes love, remus likes rationality when james swims deep in his emotions.

you watch them flirt as they sit on the couch. you're at the table across them in the living room, staring at your laptop screen with exhausted eyes. it probably would be easier to complete what you've been writing if you could have more energy, but sadly you sit all tense and cold at your place. your arms get the chills, you avoid looking at your lovers.

if you leave the table to join them, james and remus would welcome you with open arms. the mere thought of james's lips against your forehead and remus's fingers rubbing your neck makes you want to cry loudly. it's just torturing yourself, but you don't think you're strong enough to ask for love. you need to get this done. you need to think about the classes you gotta pass.

james kisses a line on his boyfriend's cheek, so warm, remus practically loses his mind. "where's sirius?" james asks, remembering sirius leave for the kitchen minutes ago. "is he burning up our kitchen, do you think?"

"we would've notice."

"no, we wouldn't." james whispers. "you're too damn distracting."

remus melts. autumn always brings starvation for touch and loving, two things james is the best at giving. he looks at your way briefly, your droopy eyes worry him.

"she seems so tired." remus says, his lips kiss james's knuckles mindlessly. "should we say something to make her give a break?"

"she said the essay has a deadline, moons." james answers. "i mean, she clearly needs a break, but i'm not sure if we should interrupt her."

it's hard to decide because you get nervous with breaks sometimes. you complain about not controlling the time good enough when you're spending your free minutes with them and being unable to finish stuff at time. you say most of this teasingly, but the boys know there's always some truth in it.

sirius walks into the room with a big mug in his hands. he carries it carefully to your table. james and remus watch the scene, their hands together and legs tangled.

"here it is." sirius puts the mug on the table. "a perfect cup of hot chocolate for my gorgeous girl."

you look at him with the widest eyes. you can't cry. fuck, he's so sweet. he smiles, he looks so handsome with his old t-shirt and messed up hair. you close your laptop, curve your lips to stop yourself from crying.

"this is so nice, siri." you say to him, unshed tears clog your throat. "thank you."

"um- can i get a kiss? i spend fifteen minutes for this."

you nod with a smile, he leans down for you. you only mean to kiss his cheek, but he smells so good and he's so kind- your hand shakes as it touches his shoulder. it doesn't take sirius long to understand what's going on. he manages to hug you before you start crying.

"oh, baby, no-" he says with a sad voice. he attempts to make a joke. "you can't cry for hot chocolate- i'm sure it doesn't even taste that good."

james and remus sit straight with worry. "dove?" remus leaves the couch. "what's wrong?"

"are you okay?"

you nod, they probably won't believe it. you hold onto sirius, he lifts you up from the chair. it's a proper hug now, your skin tingles with the sensation. it feels so good to be touched.

"it's okay." sirius kisses your head. "you're just overwhelmed. you're okay."

you keep your head on sirius's chest. he's warm and his arms are strong, he supports your body to help you stay on your feet. remus brings his hand on your waist, his thumb gently draws a circle.

"can we go to bed?" you ask. separating yourself from sirius is hard, but it's harder to stay vertical. james extends a hand to you, you hold it greedily. they are all thinking the same thing, you'll calm down but you need to feel safe enough with your surroundings to do that. even though they'd like to keep you stuck in their arms, this might not be the best idea.

the bed is cold. it will pass in a few minutes. remus takes you under the blanket, james adjusts the pillows. sirius has a wrinkle between his eyebrows, he gets behind you on bed and wraps his arm around your shoulder. you sniffle softly, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention.

"sorry." you offer, your voice sounds sincerely sorry. "i don't know what came over me."

"i think we should be sorry." remus says. "jamie and i were talking about whether we should tell you to take a break but- we didn't wanna distract you. we should've distract you."

"it's not your fault that i can't manage my time doing stuff i've been doing for years." you say, weakly. "i'm just sick of being tired. i guess i- missed you."

sirius gives you a generous kiss on the side of your head. "you can jump on us any time you want, you know that, gorgeous."

"i think my head doesn't work like that when i'm exhausted."

"it doesn't have to." james says. his voice is like honey. "you don't have to ask for anything. we should be giving you everything before you even have to ask."

"he's right." remus agrees. "it should be like this for all of us, i think."

you nod. your eyes have a grateful look in them, they are undeniably tired, but still pretty to your boys. the bed is warmer. you force yourself to stop counting down the minutes for deadlines. james puts his head on your chest, hugs you as your back touches the bed, his arms are tight around you like you'll run away.

it's good to be touched. it's amazing to have contact with their hands, safe and secure, you can do anything you want if you always feel like this. remus kisses your fingers. his eyes are gentle. they are all so gentle, kind with you, you feel like you'll never break as long as you have them.

sirius's kisses help you fall asleep at the end. he's always bold with his affections, this time he manages to be softer with his lips and more tender with his hands. long fingers in your hair, chapped lips on your skin. he whispers how much he adores you, the tone of his voice hits your mind so well. you are okay. you think you'll be okay, and that's a nice beginning to get things done.

[taintedtort]

scaramouche trying to praise you during sex because you arent comfy w degredation and he gets all awkward and shit!! -💗ANON

" PRAISE, PLEASE? "

summary. you ask for praise and he gets nervy

character. scaramouche

warnings. afab!reader, SMUT!!, degrading near the beginning, praise

a/n. this has been in my inbox for so long, i’m so sorry 💗 anon! i’ve been meaning to right it for a while, but here it is finally. hope you like it! (i think it’s lowkey ass, im so sorry)

"fuck— you feel so good… such a slutty pussy," SCARAMOUCHE grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he pushes his cock into you over and over. it feels good, obviously, but his usual degrading words are bothering you a bit more this time.

"so greedy, sucking me in like a pathetic whore," he groans, his eyes glued to where you’re connected. he watches as he slides in and out of you, his length shiny with your arousal.

"scara…" you mewl, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. he leans over your body, his face getting closer to yours. he opens his mouth to say more, but you cut him off before he can get a word out.

"can you, uhm— praise me instead? i don’t really like the degrading all that much," you confess, mumbling through your pleasure filled moans. his thrusts come to a stop, and he looks at you with furrowed brows.

he’s hit with a short wave of guilt. he always tends to degrade you, as it just comes naturally, but with the new knowledge that you don’t like it, he feels determined to correct himself and make you feel good. he can be selfish, but he‘d never want to intentionally ignore your wishes and make you sad. he’d do anything you asked, even if it made him feel awkward.

"i… i can try, i guess," he resumes his movements, and you can tell he’s going much softer now than he was before. he’s silently worried he hurt your feelings, so he racks his brain to think of something nicer to say.

he leans down to pepper kisses across your face, mainly focusing on your cheeks and forehead. you can’t help but smile, appreciating that he’s trying to be nicer even though it doesn’t necessarily come naturally to him.

"i love seeing you under me like this, you look so pretty," he mumbles, and you swear you see his cheeks go a bit pink. he’s not looking at you, his eyes trailing over your body instead, trying to distract himself from his rising blush.

your body relaxes against the bed, letting his compliment sink in as your pleasure slowly builds. he keeps his pace quick, but his hips are no longer roughly slamming into yours. you certainly don’t mind the change, taking the opportunity to run your fingers through his silky hair.

"shit— you feel amazing, made just for me, all of you," he breathes out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep his moans muffled. he buries his face into your neck, placing kisses and gentle nips to the skin there.

he‘s mainly trying to hide how awkward he is, and you know that, but you appreciate him trying. the thought of him going out of his comfort zone just to please you makes your head fuzzy and causes your orgasm to build quickly.

you jolt and moan louder when you suddenly feel two fingers press against your clit, rubbing quick circles to match his thrusts.

"scara! 'm gonna— ah! gonna cum!" you whine, seeing him nod encouragingly. he starts to go harder, fucking into you with the force that he normally does. your body rocks with each thrust, little squeaks and moans forcing themselves out of your throat.

"cum for me, sweet girl. make a mess on my cock," he grunts, his own release rapidly building as he watches you fall apart underneath him.

"fu—fuck! scara!" your moans increase in pitch as you teeter over the edge, dangerously close. your pussy throbs around him, making him hiss in pleasure.

"that’s my good girl," he mumbles, almost like he’s saying it to himself, but you hear it. his praise is what finally pushes you to your release, squirming on the bed before you finally cum around his cock.

he watches as your eyes roll back, your mouth popping open in a silent moan. he groans at the sight, loving the faces and sounds you make when your consumed with pleasure.

"you’re so cute when you cum like that," he grunts, chasing his own orgasm now. you can’t help but smile dumbly at his strained words, a bit dazed as you slowly come down from your high.

you watch as SCARAMOUCHE grows closer and closer, his face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. you’re now able to hear the little sighs and groans he lets out, your own moans not drowning him out anymore.

"cum inside me… please?" his eyes snap to yours when he hears that. the thought of making a mess of your pussy has him cumming almost instantly.

he pushes his hips flush against you, shoving his cock deep in your cunt as he fills you, both of you letting out a moan.

"fuck… love this pussy so much." you giggle at how breathless and pleasure drunk he sounds, his eyes half lidded with a small blush on his cheeks.

after a moment of catching your breath, SCARAMOUCHE pulls out slowly, his eyes locked on where his cum drips out of you. it falls onto the bedsheets below, but he doesn’t seem to notice nor care. he takes in the view of you sprawled out on the bed, your body naked and slightly sweaty. all for him.

the knowledge that you’re his has his body heating once more, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looks up at your tired expression.

"again."

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[p0orbaby]

For a Good Time, Call… (3)

summary: confessions of an Arsenal Vice Captain

warnings: SMUT 18+, (r receiving) sex with a strap, brief mentions of oral and fingering, alcohol consumption

a/n: am I updating this monthly? im afraid so

word count: 2.9k

part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | epilogue

-

You have no idea how you got here.

Well, you do, obviously, but you’re surprised you actually had the balls to go through with it.

‘Dinner tomorrow. Goodman’s. 19:45’

It was simple. Succinct. Completely out of character.

You almost passed out when your sweaty, nervous hands typed it and pressed send. In some ways you did. You don’t deal well with stress, at all, choosing to sleep most of your problems away. It worked this time for the most part. Until you were rudely awakened by your phone and its obnoxious ding.

‘Only if you pay’

So, here you were. Sitting at a table with a lit candle and at least 16 pieces of cutlery, wondering if you have to get a mortgage for a flat you don’t even own to cover the cost of this meal.

You’d arrived early because you needed a stiff drink to calm your nerves and you weren’t having Leah judge you for it. And the equally judgemental looks you're getting from the wait staff as you sat alone not so subtly gulping down your double vodka soda don’t go unnoticed.

So you ordered another one. Along with a bottle of white wine.

“I hope you got that for us to share”

You almost yelp into your glass as you hear a voice beside you. Your eyes flit up quickly to find Leah clad in an all black get up. A suit. Tailored too, by the looks of it. Your heart rate increases exponentially as she stands over you.

“What are you doing here?” You blurt at her.

She smirks as you as she pulls a chair out for herself. “You invited me”

“No. I mean,” you start as you look at your watch, “you’re early”

“So are you”

Touché.

“The wine is for both of us, yes” you confirm, changing the subject. You’re not having her intimidate you. You were the one who asked her here, after all.

“Have you ordered food yet?”

Shaking your head, you open the food menu. She follows suit and you're left to sit in silence as you pretend to read what the restaurant has to offer. Like any sane person, you chose what you were having hours ago so you didn’t have to worry. And it gave you more time to drink your nerves away.

Though by the looks of it, it didn’t work. Your hands still shake when they go to pick up the bottle of wine. Leah must notice, because she’s smirking again and reaching for it herself not a second later.

“I’ve got it”

Get a fucking grip.

Leah’s smirk only adds to your internal turmoil, but you manage a tight-lipped smile in return. “Thanks,” you mutter, grateful for the distraction as she pours the wine into your glasses. The tension between you almost tangible, a thick fog that seems to settle itself over the table.

Taking a sip of wine, you try to gather your thoughts, driving yourself to act like a person with at least half a brain. “So, what made you agree to dinner with me?” you finally ask, trying to keep your tone casual despite the racing of your heart.

Leah leans back in her chair, her gaze lingering on you as she considers her response. “Curiosity, I suppose,” she replies cryptically, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “And maybe a touch of boredom”

You can’t help but scoff at her honesty. “Well, I’ll try to make it worth your while,” you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to entertain me. You always do,” she says, her tone so casual you almost missed it. And you’re not about to admit your lack of attention is from staring at the way her fingers play with the stem of her glass.

Trying to regain your composure, you take a sip of wine, the taste now bitter on your tongue as you struggle to find the words. “So, what’s new with you?” you ask, opting for a safe topic of conversation.

Leah’s lips quirk into a smirk as she leans forward. “Why? Feeling the need to pry into my personal life?” she teases, her voice low.

You roll your eyes, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Just making conversation,” you reply, your tone light despite the flutter of, something, in your stomach.

Leah leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. “Well, if you must know, I’ve started seeing someone”

This catches your attention in a way you don’t expect. You try to maintain your composure, but the news hits you like a punch to the gut. “Oh,” is all you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Leah watches you closely, her expression unreadable. “Is that a problem?” she asks, her tone cautious.

You shake your head quickly, trying to mask the hurt that’s threatening to bubble to the surface. “No, of course not,” you reply, forcing a smile onto your lips. “I’m happy for you”

But even as you say the words, you can’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the ache of disappointment that lingers beneath the surface. You had hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more between you and Leah.

“She’s incredibly intelligent, with a sharp wit and a quick tongue,” she says, her voice laced with what you instantly recognise as admiration. “She’s kind-hearted and fiercely loyal, always willing to lend a helping hand to those in need”

You listen reluctantly. Why is she telling you this? To rub it in? To embarrass you that she’s strung you along? “She sounds amazing,” you say, unable to keep the hurt out of your voice.

Leah nods, a smile starting to form as she speaks. “Oh, she is,” she replies, her gaze lingering on you. “She’s someone really special. Even if she is really bad with technology”

What?

Why is that relevant? Have you zoned out again as she’s been talking? When on Earth did she take off her blazer? Were her sleeves always rolled up?Jesus Christ, don’t look at her forearms.

She must catch your frown because proceeds to explain the bizarre nugget of information she’s presented to you.

“Sometimes she takes all day to reply to a text, probably because her phone is dead. Or how she constantly has to get her screen replaced because it’s cracked. Oh, and this one time she sent me a naked picture by accident”

Your heart practically falls out your ass at that. The wind being knocked out of you when your heavy, almost wine drunk brain catches up.

And like a bolt of lightning, it hits you. Clarity emerging from the fog.

She’s talking about you.

Your heart pounds in your chest as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. It’s as if everything suddenly makes sense, and you can’t believe you didn’t see it sooner.

In the days and weeks that have passed with you and her and this little game, you’ve been an idiot not to notice.

Despite her constant need to rile you up, she’s taken on a very unique trait of checking up on you. Nights out with your friends? A text to make sure you get home safe. In training when you’re completing your individual recovery? Asking if you’ve got everything you need before you head home.

You’ve actually found it pretty fucking annoying. Condescending even. How dare she treat you like a child who needs looking after. So you snapped and snarled at her and she smirked as you retaliated. That just added to the many reasons you thought she was doing it to piss you off. No one else seemed to get Leah’s special treatment. No one else seemed to warrant her attention in quite the same way.

Though you realise now that those weren’t just ways to get under your skin. They were expressions of genuine care and affection, subtle hints of whatever feelings she had for you that you had stupidly failed to recognise.

What do you do now? How do you respond to something like this?

You glance at Leah, your mind racing with a million thoughts and feelings. And then, without a word, you excuse yourself from the table, needing a moment to collect your thoughts.

As you step outside, the cool night air offers a brief respite from the clisterfuck inside your mind. You lean against a wall, trying to steady your racing heart and gather yourself.

This is good, right? This is what you want, isn’t it?

Leah is undeniably your type – intelligent, witty, and captivating in every way. She’s the kind of person anyone would be lucky to have in their life. But she’s also more than that. She’s your teammate, your captain – someone you’ve looked up to and admired from afar.

On one hand, the idea of being with her, of exploring the possibility of something more with her, isn’t an unappealing idea. But on the other hand, there’s a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you of the potential risks and complications that come with mixing business with pleasure.

This is a decision you can’t make lightly. It’s not just about what you want, but also about what’s best for both of you, for your team, and for your friendship.

As you continue to wrestle with your thoughts, the door of the restaurant swings open, and Leah steps out into the night air. Her presence startles you, and you look up to see her approaching with her forearms covered once again.

Thank god.

“Hey,” she says softly, her eyes searching yours. “Can we talk?”

You nod, because that’s the only thing you can do. Your voice is caught in your throat and you fear if you try to talk you’ll just squeak at her and scare her off.

Leah takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to say. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she begins, her words measured. “I know I caught you off guard back there, and I shouldn’t have put you in that position”

You feel a pang of guilt at the concern in her eyes, knowing that she’s trying to do what’s best for both of you. “Leah, that’s not-,” you start to say, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“I just want you to know that whatever happens, I value our friendship above all else,” she continues, her voice tinged with emotion you don’t see from her often. “And if you don’t feel the same way, I’ll understand if you want to just forget any of this ever happened and go back to how things were before. I don’t want to make things awkward between us”

Before you can respond, Leah reaches out to touch your arm, her eyes looking at yours for any sign of understanding. But instead of words, all you can offer is a sudden, impulsive action.

Then without even thinking, you lean forward and press your lips to hers in a tender, unexpected kiss. It’s a brief moment of connection, a silent declaration of the feelings you’ve both been dancing around for so long.

-

You have no idea how you got here.

Well, you do, obviously, you’re not that drunk. But you’re surprised you actually had the balls to go through with it.

You’re surprised you had the balls to make out with someone in the back of a cab. And then on the doorstep as they tried to unlock the door.

Yet here you are, the sound of skin on skin filling a room that is half lit by a lamp on a bedside table. Your shadows are blurred around the edges. The doing of vodka sodas and desire and the way your face is pressed firmly into the mattress.

You’re not sure how long it’s been. Half an hour maybe? An hour? Long enough that your body has gone slack underneath hers, taking what she gave as she rutted into you.

She was almost too big. The feathered light made it difficult to judge the size of the strap when it was pulled from a drawer. But she’d touched you soft and sweet to get you ready. Then hard and mean when you were slick against her mouth and fingers as you begged her for more.

“Keep your hips up,” she demands as she grabs at them and pulls them backwards. “Yeah, just like that”

They’d be marks from where her fingers gripped at the flesh there, but you didn’t mind. You don’t care, as long as she keeps fucking you.

“Leah” you moaned. Her name sticky and wet in your mouth. “Harder, please”

She stills momentarily. A little taken aback at your sudden confidence. She sucks in a breath when you groan and push yourself further onto the strap unprompted.

“Jesus, Y/N” she gritted out through clenched teeth as you pulled an arm from underneath you to loop it backwards. Pulling at her, bringing her closer. Deeper.

She went, of course, wrapping her body around yours, humming against the back of your neck and stretching a hand over your stomach for purchase. Your skin hot against her palm. The scent of your perfume surrounding her as she kissed between your shoulders.

Again, her fingers squeezed where they were holding the meat of your hips. Pinning you firmly in place as she straightened and rocked into you again.

The noises were obscene. Skin slapping skin and your mangled cries echoing around the room when Leah found your clit and tapped at it rhymically.

You didn’t realise you were crying until salty tears ran into your mouth.

Your orgasm took you by surprise and you sobbed out her name when you started shaking. She eases you through it, removing her hand from between your legs and fucking you hard.

That's better.

“That’s it, good girl” Leah says from behind you, breathless. It reminds you of half time chats and tactics. When she comes off the pitch running her mouth about what’s good and what needs to be better. “Almost there sweetheart”

She pulls out of you suddenly and you clench around nothing as she flips you over. One smooth move and you're facing her.

She’s gorgeous. From what you can see through your tear soaked lashes. Red faced and beautiful. Her chest heaving with her efforts and you realise now why you sit rubbing your legs together from the subs bench.

Sweaty work really is sexy work.

You’ve barely even taken a breath before she’s inside you again. Pinning your hands above your head as her lips attach themselves to yours. The feel of her body pressed against your own is something you didn’t know you’d crave. But now you’ve succumbed to the feelings bubbling deep inside for so long.

“One more. Just one more for me”

“I can't,” you whimper. The words rough and stuttered as your body shifts with each thrust.

“You can, I promise”

Her mouth closed over your nipple. Sucking and licking and pulling noises out of you you didn’t think possible.

“I’m gonna cum” you announce, and she released your breast, your nipple pebbling with the cold air hitting wet skin.

You feel for her neighbours. You really do. It’s not late, but no one wants to hear banging on their walls no matter what time of day it is. Maybe she should get some stoppers to dull the sound a little.

Is that presumptuous? To think this will happen enough times that Leah will need to make changes to mitigate noise pollution? Maybe so, but you hope and pray this isnt the last time this happens.

Your orgasm rips through you, and unsurprisingly stops your virtual Amazon shop abruptly in its tracks. And my god, never have you climaxed this hard in your life.

Legs shaking. Eyes rolling back into your head. Back arching almost unnaturally as pleasure rips through you and touches every damn nerve in your body. It was fireworks on the Fourth of July. Colliding atoms. A demolition of everything you ever thought you knew about your relationship with Leah.

But what you now know, is that she is a woman that knows how to fuck.

You can’t breathe in the best way. Partly because you’d just had the horny pounded out of you. Partly because Leah was now settled on top of you, a firm presence as she too fights for air.

“You okay?” She asks after a second. And you almost laugh because you’re the one that should be asking that. She was the one that did all the hard work.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt better” you manage once your heartbeat has slowed down and the throb between your thighs has dulled to a pleasant hum.

She laughs and you feel warm all over again.

What was wrong with you? Don't say you’re in love with her already? Because that would be really bloody stupid.

“Don’t, you’ll inflate my ego”

“Like you need help with that”

It’s weird to be having a conversation like this with someone still inside you. But you don’t feel uncomfortable about it. Not with her. Never with her.

You think she must feel the same because when she lifts herself onto her elbows, she doesn’t work to remove herself. No, instead she looks down at you with those blue eyes and that smile and she pushes loose hairs away from your face.

“All you have to do is look at me and my head barely fits through the door” she admits.

“Well, I’ll just have to stop looking at you then. Can’t have you stuck in this room when we need you on the field, can we?”

[moonstruckme]

Haloooo!!! I wanted to request something but I jus wanna say how much i adore your workkksss😭 not to shade other writers but youre probably my fave out of them, theres just something about your writings thats so comforting and I love it!! Can I request a academic rival trope for Remus and reader??🥹 Im excited to read it!! Thank you!!🫶

I'm so glad you enjoy them my love!! Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of skipping meals (never fear it is remedied)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus is the only other person in the library. You’ve been hopelessly aware of him since he’d sat down four tables away from you an hour ago, and you’re positive he’s being distracting on purpose, because no one really eats chocolate like that. 

It’s abominable and should be punishable by death, honestly, the way he’s getting brown smudges all over the pages of his book. He’ll pop a chocolate in his mouth, let it get all melty in there, then slowly suck the remnants off each of his fingers, the movement distracted and tantalizing. Brow furrowed and eyes sharp, he looks entirely absorbed by his studies. 

You wish you could say the same. 

You’ve read the same page four times now, and the information keeps bouncing off your brain like someone’s put an invisible shield around it. Your eyes burn slightly, your back aches from too long spent in this wooden chair, but you need to know this stuff by tomorrow. Somehow, you need to make yourself retain it. 

“Do you mind?” 

You stop tapping the end of your pencil on the table, looking over at Remus. Your eyes narrow on instinct. 

“Do you?” 

He raises a brow. “I’m not doing anything.” 

“Yes, you are. You keep smacking your lips, it’s irritating.” It’s not, really, it’s…it’s something else. It’s not conducive to a distraction-free study environment, that’s what it is. “Are you even allowed to have those in here?” 

Remus sighs heavily. “Alright.” 

Before you can figure out what he means by that, he’s pushing back his chair, walking over to join you at your table. He holds your gaze as he sits down and then pushes his chocolates towards you, seemingly expectant. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You’re clearly jealous. Go on, have a few.” 

“I am not jealous.” You glare at him, arms folding over your book. It’s a habit, to hide the answers from him, but when you notice his gaze drop to the protective motion you feel silly. “And I’m not eating those. You’ve been licking your fingers and reaching in there, it’s gross.” 

“Oh.” Remus retreats slightly, cheeks pinkening. “I didn’t realize I was, sorry.” 

It’s gratifying to see him embarrassed. He’s the shyest of his group of friends (which is to say, he won’t automatically go and talk the ear off anyone within ten yards of him), but he goes about his day with their same unshakeable confidence, earned by social status and, admittedly, an intimidating academic prowess. Though you’ve always met each other head on in class, you’ve never felt up to par with him in any other respect. It’s nice to feel on a similar playing field. A bit endearing to see this tentative, boyish side to him, too. 

It doesn’t last long enough. 

There’s the barest shift in his expression, but you note with dread that familiar twinkle in Remus’ eyes. “Seems like you’ve been paying more attention to me than your book, hm?” 

Yup, the endearment is gone. 

“I’m basically done studying for the night anyway,” you lie through your teeth. “I was just finishing up.” 

Remus’ brow lifts. He clearly doesn’t believe you. “Good for you. How long have you been here?” 

“Since five.” It’s the truth this time, and you say it proudly. You want to show him that you work harder than him, are better, but your smugness fizzles out when he frowns. 

“That long?” Remus asks, looking less defeated and more…troubled. “You must be exhausted. I was only going to put a couple of hours in.” 

It nettles you, the implication that he can do better than you by studying half the time. You shrug with feigned insouciance. “I guess we’ll see who does better tomorrow.” 

“Did you miss dinner?” He breezes right by the challenge, leaning forward as his brows come down. “You must have taken a break then.” 

You cross your arms, appraising him as he does you. What is he playing at? 

“I don’t take breaks, Remus.” I work hard. I play to win. 

Remus hums, eyes still on you. It’s a struggle not to squirm under his gaze. After a minute, he sighs. 

“Okay,” he says, starting to pack up his things. He puts his chocolates back in his bag. “I would offer you some of these, but you’ve made your thoughts about that known. I guess all that’s left is to go to the kitchens.” 

You look up at him as he stands. “What are you talking about?”

“You can’t just not eat before the exam, love. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

“To who?” 

“To either of us. You need to do well, and I need to know you can do well so that I do well.” He leans against the table, a soft curve to his bottom lip. Like you’re friends. “Come on, grab your things.” 

“I can’t just—” You shake your head incredulously. “I still have to study.” 

“I thought you were done studying.” 

“I—not—not all the way done,” you hedge, cheeks warming. Remus smiles like you’re funny. 

“Let’s be done for tonight,” he says in a gentle tone. It’s not so different from his usual voice, and yet the sound of it caresses your nerves, lulling them to rest. “There’ll be time before the exam tomorrow. You’ve put in plenty of hours already, and those won’t do you any good without food and sleep.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, considering this. Though you’ve tried to ignore it, you are tired. The bone-deep, heavy kind, from a week of exams that have left you nearly in tatters. You’re afraid that if you take to your bed now, getting out again may seem more trouble than it’s worth. 

“And,” Remus adds offhandedly, “if beating my score is your goal, I like your odds. You’ve been studying all night, and I hardly opened my book a half hour ago.” 

You blink up at him. Remus seems to realize you’re not going to start packing up yourself and, with a long-suffering sigh, begins doing it for you. “Why aren’t you staying to study?” you ask. 

He shrugs. “I don’t mind going to the kitchens with you. And would you really go if I stayed here and studied?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. 

He gives you a wry, knowing look. “Then I suppose it’s a small price to pay.”

[girlthatgotawaysdiary]

study tips: how to get a 4.00 GPA 🩰

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All throughout last year I've gotten perfect grades on my report cards and many of my friends have asked how I've done it and i seriously had no idea until recently when I started to take notice of my new ways of studying... and today ive decided to put all my findings on this post...so here we goo...💋

#1 finish ur homework the second u get it:

I cannot stress this enough HOMEWORK IS IMPORTANT! idc if you’re too lazy or busy studying for exams, homework is almost half of your grade, doing it the second you get it is the best way to eliminate the stress and procrastination you get when trying to tackle an assignment.

#2 be nice to teachers:

ultimately teachers are the ones deciding your fate, so being a teacher's pet isn't always a bad thing. you don't have to absolutely love them, but giving them respect while speaking, trying to connect with and get to know them, and even just thanking them after class would take you a long way. 

#3 pay attention in class:

ive heard this a million times and as a girly with undiagnosed adhd it is so hard for me to focus during class, but one thing I found helpful is sitting in front of the class. this was important because the teacher was literally in my face so I couldn't zone out. a thing that also helped me is 24/7 taking notes or highlighting passages.

#4 start caring: 

in middle school, i literally did not care about school whatsoever(and im sure most of u as well) and that was because i didn't have any severe consequences. my parents may get mad at me and i may feel disappointed in myself, but there was no long-term consequences. so when i started high school.

i had to start caring because high school grades are all that matters to universities. it was also because i knew i had a dream and wanted to achieve it, and the only way to do so was to fake being a good student till i actually became one.

something that also stops you from caring about school, is u caring about other people or what they think of u, whether it be positively or negatively. thinking about others will take up most of your brain capacity very quickly, which would result in u being distracted and not caring about ur schoolwork.

#5 surrond urrself with people who actually want to improve themselves:

this is SO important! surrounding urself with negative people who don't care about education can greatly affect you(e.g. making u late to class) making friends with people who show up to class on time, get their work done fast, and respect others is a pathway to getting good grades. i believe that the most people you spend time with reflect on who you are, and don't let those people be negative.

*now these tips won't guarantee you getting immediate straight A's, but applying them to your school life will definitely improve it.

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