#the last one was just a bonus page because why not?
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Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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Praise | Taunt Part 2
summary: michael has been tutoring you for weeks and the closer you get to him, the stronger your feelings seem to grow but does he feel the same way about you?
pairing: michael gavey x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, profanity, dirty talk, breast/nipple play, teasing, degradation/dumbification, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (technically the reader is on birth control but it's not mentioned in this part), angst (michael is in his sad boy hours for a lil bit), creampie, light cum play, light choking, daddy kink, dom/sub vibes, discussions of mathematics, michael being a lil clueless (aw, bless) -- let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 9.8k i will not apologize, i am not sorry
a/n: i have to say, i've grown so attached to this little pairing and i hope y'all love them as much as i do! i want to say a huge, huge, huge thank you to the loml @officerbrowneyes ❤️ for giving me the excitement and inspiration needed to even make me want to write a second part to taunt, for helping me through my writers block, for betaing this fic, and for generally being an amazing person and fantastic friend! i love you bby!!
TAUNT | Part 1
MAKING AMENDS | Bonus
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“Fuck this,” you mutter, jaw clenched as you yank over the next page of your statistics textbook, practically ripping the page as you flip it over. You can’t help but grumble, each page of notes you flip through only adding to your foul mood as you hunch over your desk, numbers and letters swimming together in your vision. “Ugh!” You toss your pencil down, rubbing your temples as it clatters across the desk before falling to the floor.
“Oi!” Louise sits up against the pillows on your bed across the room, tugging off a headphone as she looks at you, resting her own textbook on her lap, “You doin’ alright, babe?”
“I’m gonna fail the final,” You groan, head in your hands, “I’m gonna fail it, and then fail out of Oxford, and then I’ll have to go back home and then my parents will kill me.”
“You’re not gonna fail,” she sighs, pushing herself up so her legs dangle over the bed, “You’ll be fine. You were so worried about that last quiz and you nearly got a perfect score, remember?”
You let out a petulant whine, one you’d be embarrassed about if your head wasn’t pounding, and lean back on your wooden desk chair, bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling. “That was before we started consumer mathematics,” you lament, chest heaving with a sigh, “I have no hope now.”
You can feel Louise jokingly roll her eyes behind you when she huffs out a laugh as she slips off your bed, coming to stand behind you, her face upside down as she looks down at you, a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just text Michael? I thought he’s been helping you.”
Just hearing his name makes your heart feel funny in your chest and you sigh, sitting back up before turning to look at your friend, “It’s…complicated.” Inwardly, you can’t help but cringe at yourself; the situation is anything but complicated and yet it somehow feels impossible.
“Explain,” Louise commands, leaning back against your desk with her arms crossed across her chest. She laughs when you groan, pushing your shoulders back from where you’ve curled in on yourself, forcing you to look at her, “Babe, I love you, but it’s Michael Gavey. How on Earth is that man ‘complicated?’” She asks, cocking her hip as she does air quotes with her hands.
“Because I like him!” You blurt out after a second, hiding your face in your hands, “I like him and I don’t think he likes me and every damn time we study, we just end up fucking and I can’t keep fucking him because I like him!” The words rush out of you before you have time to think about them, your whole body deflating like a balloon as you release weeks worth of tension.
Your head snaps up in shock when Louise giggles, your mouth hanging open even as the corners of your lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “How dare you!” You admonish, playfully slapping at her hip, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you laugh!”
“Sorry, sorry!” She shakes her head, breathily laughing as she tries to get herself under control, “I’m sorry! I just…what do you mean he doesn’t like you? That man is in love.”
“What?” Your eyes narrow as you stare up at her, “How do you know? I’ve tried flirting with him and he doesn’t ever seem to respond to it.”
At this, Louise shakes her head and shoots you a concerned look, “I don’t think he’s the type to get flirting, hon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you honestly think anyone has ever flirted with him?” Louise asks, giving you a pointed look, “I don’t have anything against the guy, but come on. You’re gonna have to hit him over the head with it.”
“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce; in your weeks of getting to know Michael, you’d learned that while he wasn’t clueless, he was definitely not as experienced as he had first appeared, “That still doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” You point out, raising an eyebrow at your friend.
“Do you really not see the way he looks at you?” She smirks, “I’ve said two words to the man but, trust me, he is smitten, babe.”
You look away, biting at your bottom lip as you think over what she had to say. Your eyes scan over the surface of your desk, unfocused, as thoughts bounce around your head. Louise simply pats your shoulder before going back to your bed, resting on her stomach as she resumes reading through her book.
You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes land on your phone, sitting temptingly on the corner of your desk. You glance back and forth between it and the still-opened textbook in front of you, frustration rising in your chest once again at the mere sight of the various formulas on the pages. Finally, with a sigh, you grab your phone and flip it open, quickly scrolling to Michael’s contact.
“U busy now?” You text quickly, pressing send before you have a chance to second guess yourself before setting the phone down quickly, practically dropping it on the desk as if it were burning you.
Not even a minute later, although it feels like an eternity, it vibrates. You hesitate for a second, tempted to just slog your way through this chapter on your own. Finally, you sigh and reach for your phone, not wanting to sacrifice your newly-improved grade or your situationship with Michael.
“In my room. Why?” He replies, always concise and to the point.
“Need help w the new chap,” you type, biting your lip as you shuffle through letters on the small keyboard, “Can I come over?”
“Sure, see you soon.” His reply comes quickly, making your heart race.
With a nervous sigh, you push yourself up from your chair, groaning as you take a second to stretch before striding over to your small dresser. “I’m going to his,” you say, glancing over at Louise, “I’m officially waving the white flag on this chapter.”
“Wear lingerie!” She says quickly, practically skipping over to you and leaning against the wall next to you.
“What?” You laugh, shooting her a questioning look, “Why would I do that?”
“Duh!” She huffs with an eye roll, “Put in some effort to fuck him and it might help get the message across.”
“How do you know we’ve been–”
“Your room is right next to mine,” she points out, looking at you tiredly, “And the walls in this ancient building are thin as paper. Come on.”
“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up in surrender with a laugh before pulling open your underwear drawer; as convoluted as Louise’s plan was, you couldn’t exactly see a downside to fancying up a little, “Any suggestions?”
“Hmm,” she hums, shuffling through the small pile of fancy lace you had shoved in the corner of the drawer, “Ooh, these!” She chimes victoriously, holding up a lacy bra, “This color always looks so good on you, you’ll make his head explode.”
With a nod, you grab the bra and matching underwear from her, “If this doesn’t help, I will be holding you personally accountable.” You laugh, seeing her politely turn away from you in the corner of your eye as you begin pulling your clothes off.
“I mean, it is still on you to actually say something,” she chuckles, peering out the window as she waits for you to change, “Honestly, if it was me, I would’a locked that shit down ages ago. The sounds I hear coming from this room…” She jokes, shaking her head.
“Sounds?” You ask, your face flushing as you hurriedly clasp the thin bra behind your back, “You can hear us?”
“You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” she laughs, “I mean, who would’ve thought that little nerd had it in him?”
“He has hooked up with people,” you defend, pulling on a t-shirt and skirt, short enough that you knew it would make the blond’s head spin, “He’s not totally helpless.”
“Hookups are different than boyfriend dick,” Louise points out, shuffling back on your bed until her back was resting against the wall next to it, “And based on all the screams I hear from you, Michael has boyfriend dick.”
With a laugh, you roll your eyes, not even bothering to question her as you shove your things into your backpack. Sitting down at your desk chair, you pull your small mirror over and give your hair and makeup one last look over, glancing back at Louise as she continues, “I mean, come off it, babes. You don’t even make those noises by yourself.”
“You can hear me?!” You squeak out, whipping your head around.
“The walls are paper thin!” She laughs, “I’m sure you can hear me too, and everyone else. You honestly think that doesn’t go both ways?”
“Ha ha,” you say dryly, slipping on your shoes before standing and grabbing your keys from the small hook next to the door of your room, “I’m going, can you lock my door when you leave?”
“Yup!” Louise chirps, not bothering to look up from her phone as she waves you off, “Go get that nerd dick!”
With a sigh and an eye roll, you pull your door closed.
You make it to Michael’s in record time and pause in front of his door, giving yourself a minute to calm down before you nervously knock.
Almost instantly, the door swings open. The thought that he might’ve been perched next to it, waiting for you to show up, makes your chest squeeze as you murmur a hello.
“Hiya, pretty.” He says lowly as you move past him, closing the door and watching as you dump your backpack by his bed. His room wasn’t much different than most other guy’s dorms you’d been in – sparsely decorated with only the essentials, although you did appreciate the posters and pictures Michael had hanging up. There were all sorts of different ones pinned to the dark wooden walls, from bands he liked to small polaroids of his pets from home. Every time you were here, though, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little as you never saw pictures similar to some of the ones you had up – ones with friends.
“Needed some help from little old me?” He teases.
“Yes, oh my God!” You sigh, your dramatics making him crack a smile as he takes a seat at his desk, “This new chapter is doing my head in!”
“Alright, alright love,” he murmurs, signature smirk poised on his lips as his blue eyes peer at you from behind his glasses, “Get your things, I’ll see if I can help.”
With a nod, you pull your notebook from your backpack as he turns to the chapter in his own textbook. As you move, you can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in everything from the dark red t-shirt he wore, complete with a cheesy maths pun on the front, to how ruffled his golden hair was, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Maybe the light was playing tricks on you, but you swore you saw him glance over at you a time or two too.
“Haven’t heard much from you this week,” you start, pulling up the extra chair he kept in a corner of his dorm room, “How’ve you been? Oh! And how did that paper for your calculus class turn out?” You ask, glancing at him as you flip through the pages of your notebook, looking for where you’d left off.
“Oh, yeah,” he clears his throat, leaning an elbow on his desk, “The paper was great, actually. Thank you for your help by the way,” his lips curve up in a sheepish grin, “I’ve always been a bit shit at writing.”
“Yeah, no problem,” try to ignore the way your stomach twists at his gratitude, “I’ve always been shit at maths so it works out.” You joke, pride filling your chest when he chuckles. The longer you’d spent working with Michael, the more comfortable the two of you became, and slowly but surely he’d let his guard down. He was still the same cocky, downright arrogant prick in class but when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t help but notice that he’d grown…softer. Those sharp, taunting edges of his had been smoothed a little, sanded down by jokes he shared with you rather than sarcastic jabs directed at you.
“Mmm,” he hummed, those blue eyes you’d grown so enamored with sparkling with mirth, like he was always just one step ahead of you, “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’ve improved a lot,” your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life, whirling around wildly at the simple compliment, “Not nearly as much of a dummy as you were a few weeks ago, yeah?” He finishes, lips tugged up in a viciously smug smile as he watches the way your eyes grow wide, the way the pink hues making their home on the apples of your cheeks bloom ever brighter, extending almost all the way to your neck.
“Michael,” your voice is hoarse as you croak his name, desperately willing your mind to stay on track, “C-Can we focus on the notes, please? I really do need help, I mean maybe later we can–”
“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he says, blessedly cutting off your nervous babbling, “What’s giving you problems, pretty?”
“Uhh,” you fumble, kicking yourself internally as you scramble to reset your brain, “The stuff we went over last week,” you flip through your notes, finally pointing your pen at the hastily scribbled notes you’d taken in class, “The monthly investment stuff; I guess the formula Professor Davies went over just seems really complicated to me. Like, I was having a really hard time following it in class with the way he was explaining it.”
Michael nods his head as he listens, his eyes quickly scanning over your notes before flitting to the accompanying pages in his nextbook as he lets out a sigh. “Ahh, okay,” his fingers brush over yours as he takes your pen, once again sending your mind into a flurry as you blink, desperately trying to clear the fog that seemed so determined to invade your brain, “So, remember the compound interest formula we went over earlier?”
You nod as he peers over at you, admittedly only halfway listening as your heart hammers in your chest. “Uhm, y-yeah,” you nearly whisper before clearing your throat, “Yeah.” You nod once more, trying to keep your voice steady as you watch him scrawl notes on your paper; your eyes glaze over as you observe the way his long fingers hold your pen, making it all too easy to imagine those same fingers sliding into your mouth and holding your tongue down as he whispers filthy things into your ear, skirting their way into your underwear and curling just right against –
“It works similarly,” Michael continues, hunched over the textbook as he copies down a sample problem, “So, the monthly investment formula is basically just the yearly salary over twelve months. I think the formula is getting to you, but it’s not really that complicated in practice.”
You nod your head dutifully, his voice sounding muffled to your ears as your thoughts continue spiraling, lewd thoughts of his fingers and cock playing like a video on the backs of your eyes. He hands the pen back to you as he finishes copying down the question, gazing at you expectantly as you look over the problem.
“Okay, so, uhm,” you stammer, eyes desperately scanning over the page as if the answer will magically reveal itself to you, “So…you’d divide these…?” You ask timidly, already knowing you’re wrong.
“You aren’t paying attention at all, love,” he says, not even needing to question it as he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “What’s going on in that pretty head, hm? What got you so distracted?” He rasps, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, even that simple action damn near causing you to whimper.
“I don't,” you swallow, mouth dry as your eyes flutter shut for a half second before reluctantly meeting his, heart pounding wildly in your chest as the smirk on his face makes a graceful reappearance when he sees the glazed over, near empty look on your face, “I don’t know.” You finish finally, voice breathy despite your best efforts.
“Hmm,” he hums again, trailing that hand down your neck and the side of your arm before finally letting it rest atop the thigh closest to him, his touch practically burning your skin, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s taken over that empty fuckin’ head.”
Before you even have a chance to reply, his hands are on your hips. He firmly pulls you into his lap, lithe frame disguising his true strength as he settles you atop his thighs.
“Michael, I–”
“Hush,” he commands softly, warm hands skirting over your waist as he tugs you back into him, your back pressing into the familiar expanse of his chest once again, “I know exactly how to help, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning over your cheek before he presses a light kiss there, trailing them down over the side of your neck as his hands slip under the bottom of your t-shirt. His touch makes shivers cascade down your spine as you feel his hands ghost over your stomach before they cup your breasts; he lets out a pleased hum when he feels the delicate lace of your bra, which does nothing to hide your already pebbled nipples as they press against the palms of his hands.
“I think,” he continues, chuckling darkly when he already hears small whines escaping past your lips as he continues massaging your breasts, “You need that wet little cunt played with, hm? I know she’s already dripping, pretty.” His voice is rough as he speaks, his hips grinding up into you, making you mewl on his lap as you feel his cock already poking against you even through the jeans he wears.
“P-Please,” you whine brokenly, embarrassed to already be reduced to such a state, “Please, Michael, I need…fuck, I need something, anything, please!” You’re used to begging for him by now, the two of you have hooked up enough over the past few weeks that you know he loves how whimpery and desperate you get, loves to hear the little hitch in your voice when you beg and plead with him so.
“Not Michael,” he grunts, roughly pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, just enough to make you cry out and squirm on his lap, “Try again.”
“Oh–,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips desperately wriggle on his lap, tantalized by the feel of him, even through all the layers of clothing between you, “Sir! Sir, please!”
He huffs out a laugh, low and raspy in your ear as he trails one hand up, poking it through the collar of your shirt to wrap it lightly around your throat – not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of your place. “Someone must be feeling extra stupid today, hm? Haven’t been sir in weeks, love, you know that.”
A hungry whine claws its way past your lips as your head tilts back onto his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as your cheeks heat up, trembling in his lap. This has been his favorite part, experimenting with that one little name it takes so much for you to say. It’s funny really, eventually he’d admitted to only hearing it in a porno, not something he could attribute to his string of experiences with one night stands. You’d just been the first person he’d been intrigued about enough to try it on; he was hooked the moment he saw your reaction and had slowly worked it into your little routine, requiring you to day it, to beg him so prettily with it, before he’d ever give you what you wanted.
“Come on now,” he groans, the movements of your hips finally getting to him, “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll keep this precious cunt occupied so that that little head can work properly.” His hand abandons your breast, a laugh rumbling through him at your cries as he trails it up one thigh, slipping it under the bottom of your skirt.
“Daddy!” You finally blurt out, the ache in your core finally growing too big for you to keep denying, “Please, daddy, please, just… fuck, just do something!”
“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he coos, half laughing as he slips his hand up under your skirt, cupping your throbbing center over the thin lace of your panties, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are under his touch, “No wonder you can’t think straight, hm? So messy.”
You whimper helplessly in his lap, hands scrabbling before they tightly cling to the forearm he has halfway under your skirt. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe heavily, head swimming as his fingers press down on your aching clit before circling the bud slowly, the lace of your underwear only adding to the fire building within you, “Oh, my God!”
Michael grunts lowly into your ear as he twirls his fingers against you, nipping at your neck as he rocks against you from below. “Here’s how this is gonna go, love,” he whispers lowly, speeding up the movements of his long fingers against you, “If you can get the formula right, you can come…”
“Wha–!” You splutter, your chest already heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, nails digging into his forearm as you feel the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten; Michael had made it his mission over the last few weeks to learn every little thing that made you tick, and Christ, if he wasn’t a fast learner, “T-That’s not–”
“If you can’t get it right,” he continues, smirking against your cheek as he presses his fingers ever tighter into the column of your throat, “Then I’ll just keep edging and edging you until I’ve gotten my fill of those precious fucking noises you make, hm?”
You struggle in his hold, not getting very far as his touch has already reduced your muscles to jelly. Your hips keep rutting up into his fingers despite your feeble attempts to stop yourself, knowing he absolutely means to make good on his threats. With a defeated whine, you let your head loll to the side on his shoulder, burying your face against the pale expanse of his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe in his now-familiar scent, although that only serves to put you more on edge.
Michael suddenly moves, sitting up straighter in his desk chair and bringing you with him, causing you to yelp a bit. He keeps a steady hold on you as he leans forward, his fingers never ceasing their circular movements on your aching clit as he tilts you forward, angling your head so you’re once again face-to-face with the textbook and notes still laid out on the desk.
“Now,” he starts, resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scan over the pages in front of you both, seemingly wholly unbothered with your current state, “What’s the first step?”
You can feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you blearily look over the paper, your eyes not really focusing on anything as you feel the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands against you.
“M-Michael, I–” Your voice sticks in your throat, your hips moving entirely of their own accord in his lap as your walls clench desperately around nothing, that familiar growing ache nearly taking over your entire center as your breath hitches.
“Ooh,” he murmurs with saccharine sympathy, quickly pulling his fingers from you just before you fall over the edge; you can feel him smirking wickedly against your cheek as you twitch against him, letting out mournful little whines, “That was a close one, wasn’t it, pretty girl?”
The room feels as if it’s spinning as you come down from your almost-high, your walls throbbing as low cries slip past your lips. “F-Fuck…” you sigh hoarsly, hips still pathetically twitching against his jean-clad lap.
“I know you know this,” his breath is warm against your cheek as he angles his head toward yours, blond hair tickling the side of your face as he peers at you from behind his glasses, “Be a good fucking girl and tell me which step is first and I’ll touch you again.”
Your eyes frantically scan over the problem as you will yourself to remember something, anything, from one of Professor Davies’s lectures last week, your hands abandoning Michael’s forearm to white-knuckle the edge of his desk instead as you try to steady yourself.
“Y-You, uhm, you multiply,” you start, swallowing heavily as something finally seems to click together in your brain, “You multiply the exponents, daddy.”
You practically preen under his touch as you feel more so than hear the pleased hum he lets out. “Very good,” he drawls slowly, pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “See? I knew there was something going on in that head of yours.” You know he’s taunting you on purpose, pulling out every trick he knows will make you blush, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel your heart soar with his praises.
A loud moan tumbles past your lips as he resumes touching you, his fingers once again teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, the aching bud now all the more sensitive to his touches after you were denied an orgasm. You nearly double over on his lap as pleasure immediately zings up your spine, your muscles tensing in his hold.
His hand abandons your throat and pulls out from under your shirt completely as he reaches for your pen and quickly scribbles down the first step of the formula, easily multiplying the numbers in his head before setting your pen back down.
“Now then, what’s next, love?” He chuckles meanly against your cheek as you whine. He groans appreciatively as he feels your arousal leaking into your panties, soaking the fabric against his fingers while his other hand comes up to cup your breast over your shirt, feeling your aching nipple pressing against his hand even through the fabric.
This game continues for what feels like an eternity, his fingers delicately teasing you right up to your breaking point before he cruelly yanks his hand away as he quizzes you again and again until you slowly but surely work your way through each step of the problem.
You’re a sweaty mess on his lap now, skin damp and flushed as he pulls his hand away for what must be the hundredth time, although in reality it’s only the fifth. You let out a feeble whine, long past begging and pleading as you know it won’t do any good.
“You’re so close,” he teases, chuckling to himself at the double meaning of his words, “Just need to solve it now, pretty baby. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll make you come.” He promises, patting his fingers over the soaked patch on your panties just enough to make you jump.
“D-Daddy, please!” You sniffle, no longer trying to reign in the tears streaming down your cheeks as your center aches and clenches, empty, “Please, I need–”
“You need to answer the fucking question,” he grunts through clenched teeth, one hand still cupping your spasming center while the other shoots up to your neck, angling your head toward the paper once more, “You asked me for help, love. And I’d say this is helping; looks like that empty little brain is able to recall information after all.” He teases, smirking cruelly as he ruts against your ass, taunting you with his hard length yet again. “Come on,” he continues, urging you on, “You’re doing so, so well for daddy. Just need the last little bit.”
Your head spins as you look at the paper and you halfway wonder if your fingers have made intents in the wood of his desk yet, “It’s, it’s the yearly salary,” you say quickly, voice high-pitched and breathy, “T-The yearly salary over twelve, fuck, m-months.” You rush out, squeezing your eyes shut.
Somehow, more blood seems to rush to your cheeks as he gasps in fake surprise, really laying it on thick for you. “Oh, what a good girl!” He praises, arms wrapping around you tightly as you squirm in his hold, his warm body pressing against yours only making your need greater, “I knew you could do it, that’s right, love!”
Quickly, he multiplies the numbers you indicated, mumbling under his breath as he quickly thinks through the equation. A few seconds later, you hear your pen moving against the paper as he scribbles down your answer, circling it with an over-done flourish.
“You’ve done it!” He coos happily, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your cheek, trailing them down your jaw and neck, “You want your prize now?” He asks lowly, trailing his hand back up your thigh slowly, fingers just barely skimming over your throbbing center.
All at once, you seem to come back to yourself as the fog lifts momentarily behind your eyes as your desperation drives you. You nod your head frantically as you turn on his lap, finally facing him and relishing the sweet, proud smile spread across his lps.
“Please, Michael, daddy,” you ramble, pressing kisses against his cheeks and neck before he finally angles his head and catches your lips with his; the two of you sigh into the kiss, yours morphing into a desperate whine as you press your chest against his, shivering as your nipples peak from the warmth of his body alone. His tongue licks along your lower lip before he gently nips at it, chuckling as you mewl into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss him frantically, sighing happily when he delicately sucks your tongue into his mouth before you pull away with a whimper. “Please, please, I need it,” you murmur against his lips, clinging to his shoulders, “I can’t wait any longer, please!”
He shushes you with a soft laugh, hands skimming over your waist. “D’you want my mouth or my fingers, pretty girl?” He mutters softly, holding you steady on his lap.
“Mouth!” You answer instantly, making him chuckle at your desperation, “Please, please!”
“On the bed,” he commands, giving you one last kiss before pushing you up, helping to steady your shaky legs, “Good girl.” He praises again, patting your ass teasingly when you finally steady yourself enough to cross the room, stopping to kick off your shoes quickly before sitting yourself down on the bed.
Michael follows after you, smirking as he kneels on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He smiles and cups both of your cheeks, kissing you once more like he can’t get enough. “You, pretty girl, are very overdressed,” He drawls, waiting for your subtle nod before pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor by the bed. “Holy…” his eyes are wide as he stares at your chest, taking in the way the delicate lace perfectly cups your breasts, nipples visible through the thin material, already hardened from his earlier ministrations.
Upon seeing his reaction, you get bold. Smirking, you pull up your skirt, spreading your legs as you draw your knees up to your chest, giving him a perfect view of your matching panties; the lace, long since soaked through with your arousal, practically glimmers in the low lamp-light of his room.
“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand adjusting his hard length, straining against his jeans as his blue eyes sweep over you, taking in every flawless inch, “To what do I owe the honor, hm?” He finally collects himself, smirking again as he reaches out to lightly skim a finger over the soft silk of one strap of your bra. He’s never seen you in something this nice, and certainly never a matching set, the sight of the soft lace against your skin would be enough to make him finish in his jeans if he weren’t careful.
“Wanted to wear something special for you…” You say with a small shrug, heat rising to your cheeks once again as you look up at him shyly through your lashes.
He tilts his head to the side, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning behind your words as he squints his eyes at you, confused. “Why…why would you wanna wear something special for me, love?” He questions softly, his voice coming out more as a breath than words.
“Michael,” you sigh, squirming under his affectionate gaze as you gather every ounce of confidence in your body. You swallow as your eyes dart between his, your heart quickly speeding up in your chest; you take a deep breath, Louise’s words echoing in your head, “I…I really like you.” You say simply, carefully watching his reaction.
“You…do?” He asks slowly, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his eyes widening as he watches you nod with a shy smile. “Why me?” His voice is smaller this time, his whole body seeming to deflate as he sits back on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped as one foot still rests against the wooden floor.
“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head cocking to the side as you move closer to him, placing a hand on his knee.
He sighs heavily, glancing up at you before looking down to where your hand rests on his leg, “No one really does.” He finally sighs, his eyes downcast.
Without thinking, you move closer to him, pressing yourself against him as you practically climb into his lap. This time, it’s your turn to gently cup his cheeks, your thumbs resting just under the gold rims of his glasses as you angle his head toward you. “I do,” you say softly before frowning a bit, pulling away just an inch, “Do…do you not feel the same way?”
“No!” He says quickly, shaking his head as he grabs at you, pulling you back toward him, “I mean yes! I mean,” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as he swallows heavily, “I do like you, I– Fuck, I don’t know who I’m kidding, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” he says softly, smiling as he watches your eyes grow wide, “I just…never thought a girl like you would want much to do with me.”
“What does that mean?” You whisper, heart hammering so hard in your chest you’re sure he can hear it with as little distance as there is between the two of you.
“I…,” he pauses, chuckling bitterly, “I guess I always assumed you’d wind up with Catton or…or one of his little minions. Everyone does.”
“Everyone?”
He tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, like he’s willing himself to tell you some deep, dark secret. Finally, he fixes his gaze on you again, one hand fiddling with the seam at the bottom of your skirt. “He was my friend once,” he begins, his voice soft and uncertain, “I don’t think I ever meant much to him, he just took me in as some charity case. To help the weirdo loner boy, I guess.”
You stay silent as he pauses, watching him carefully as he speaks. The corners of his mouth twitch before finally dropping into a frown, his eyebrows pulling together as if he were in pain.
“I don’t know what happened in the end, to be honest,” he continues, blinking his eyes as he shuffles through memories, “I think maybe I wasn’t falling in line enough – I didn’t just blindly follow him like the others. He must’ve gotten tired of it cause one day I got to school and everyone just acted as if I wasn’t there, even mates I’d had before. They all just got pulled into his orbit and left me.”
“Michael…” you coo softly, thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks.
“And then, one night I went to the pub with– with Oliver.” He practically spits his name, nose twitching with anger.
“Oliver?” You question, the name ringing a bell as your eyes narrow, trying to picture his face, “Oliver Quick, you mean?”
He nods, eyes flitting around his room before they settle on you again. “He was my friend…I thought he was anyway. Way back at the start of term,” he sighs, lips pulling up in a sardonic smile, “We went to the pub one evening to celebrate finally finishing some paper or whatever, and…you were there.”
“I was?” You pull back from him a fraction of an inch in shock, your eyes flitting over his face.
“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head, “Sitting at a table with Catton and all the rest of the cunts.”
“Felix and I were never that close Mich–”
“And I got up to get another pint and when I got back…he was gone.” He continued, huffing out a bitter laugh.
“Oliver?”
“Yep,” he nods, hands gripping your waist more firmly as if he’s trying to anchor you to him, “He’d gone to sit with you lot and never so much as looked my way again. Then, once Professor Davies’s class started, I…Fuck, I liked you from the minute you walked through the door on the first day, love.”
“You did?” You smile at his confession, thinking back to all those months ago.
He hums again, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, glasses smushed against his cheek, “‘N then I realized where I knew you from and I…lost hope. Got jealous. Doesn’t matter I just…I was so determined not to like you.”
“But…you do?”
He hums again, nodding against your cheek, “I remember kicking myself when I agreed to tutor you,” he laughs, breath fanning over your neck and collarbone, “But you’re really not like them, hm?”
You shake your head emphatically, holding him tighter to you as if that will somehow better prove your point, “I’m not.” You say simply, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
The two of you stay silent for a moment before Michael’s shoulders start shaking a little; you pull back a bit, worried that he’s upset until you see he’s laughing, gazing at you as if you were some ethereal being. “I cannot believe you fucking like me,” he laughs, damn near giggling, “No one bloody likes me.”
You can’t help but laugh with him, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, fuck them,” you say firmly with a cheeky grin, “I like you enough for every damn idiot in this school.”
The two of you laugh together for another moment before you feel that familiar heat building in your belly again, never able to stave it off very long when you’re in his presence. Michael must feel it too, one second you’re laughing with him and the next his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a hard kiss, pressing his lips desperately against yours as if he’s trying to prove to himself you won’t disappear. You whimper softly as his tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing his groans as you move your lips fluidly against his before he pulls away quickly.
“Gotta fucking taste you, love,” he whispers roughly, hands blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. You feel it pop open a moment later, a low, victorious hum sounding from his chest as he finally pulls it off, tossing it off the bed to land next to your shirt, “Fuck, I love these tits.” He groans hotly, quickly kissing down your shoulder and chest before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, making you gasp loudly.
“Oh, fuck!” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you finally feel his mouth on you, head spinning at the way his tongue teases over your sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his hot mouth, “Michael, please, need it!” You whine pitifully, rutting yourself down on his thigh.
He guides you back gently, coaxing you to lay down on his bed as his hands push up under your short skirt once more to quickly pull your panties down, tossing them over his shoulder. “Not Michael, baby, remember?” He asks teasingly, pushing your thighs up and hooking his hands behind your knees.
He guides your knees up and up until your knees are pressed against your chest, all the while pressing soft kisses to the backs of your thighs as he peers up at you over his gold-rimmed glasses, strands of blond hair resting against his forehead.
“Please, daddy!” You correct yourself quickly, not wanting to take any chances of him teasing you further. You wiggle your hips in his grasp, making him chuckle lowly as he presses kisses closer and closer to where you want him. Giggling, damn near giddy with the excitement of having his mouth on you, you reach down and gently pull his glasses off and reach up to set them on the small table beside his bed.
“Shh, you’ll get it,” he promises, breath hot against your slick folds as he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, groaning appreciatively when he sees how wet you are, how your pussy clenches tightly around nothing, “You earned it, my love.”
The pet name sends you into a tailspin almost as much as the feeling of his warm tongue pressing against your clit does. You let out a long, satisfied moan at the feeling of it, arching your hips up into his mouth.
His groan of satisfaction vibrates through you, only adding to the sensations of his lips and tongue on your aching center. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles, releasing his hold on one thigh to run two long fingers through your slick, gathering it as he teases your entrance, “It’s been far too long.” He groans, speaking more to your throbbing core than you, the thought sending another zap of pleasure swirling up your spine.
“It’s been, like, a week!” Your giggle turns into a breathy moan as he kisses your clit, gently suckling it between his lips as he carefully slips two fingers into you, immediately crooking them up against the spot that he knows will drive you wild.
“Too long,” he grunts into your folds, tongue sweeping over the length of you before he teases it at your clit. “Fuck, if I could eat this sweet little cunt every day, I would.”
Your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches as he feasts on you, shaking his head back and forth to bury his face further into your heat. He growls into you as he licks into your entrance, removing his fingers for a moment to fuck his tongue into you, savoring your sweet taste while the tip of his nose rubs perfectly over your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp, body jerking and twitching as pleasure floods through you, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight at just a few touches, “D-Daddy, I’m— oh, fuck!” You cry, arching your back as he slips his fingers into you, expertly fucking and curling them against that rough patch within you, making stars dance behind your eyelids.
“Y’getting close?” Michael murmurs around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue over it before letting it slip from his lips with a wet pop, “S’okay, my love, come on. You don’t need to ask for it, baby girl, you’ve earned it, just come.” He coaxes, slipping a third finger in beside the first two and grinning when he hears you cry out at the added stretch.
You breathe heavily, chest heaving as you pant, wanton whimpers and whines spilling past your lips as your fingers weave into his golden hair. Michael’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling, so pleased with himself that he can make you feel this good, that he can pull these sounds from you that he groans, long and low, into your cunt as he licks and sucks at your folds, flicking his tongue over your swollen bud.
“Can feel you getting tight, pretty girl,” his lips move against your clit as he speaks, “This sweet cunt wants to milk daddy’s fingers, doesn’t she? Fucking let her, baby, come on.”
The knot inside your belly implodes on itself as your body loses all sense of rhythm, every muscle contracting and relaxing as waves of pleasure finally wash over you. You can feel your walls pulsing around Michael’s fingers as your high consumes you, a garbled moan of his name leaving your lips as you shake against him.
He doesn’t let up, digits pressing tightly against the spot inside you as he lewdly spits onto your cunt, loudly slurping it up as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, sucking your still-pulsing bud into his mouth as he does.
“T-Too much!” You whimper, squirming in his hold as you feel yet another high quickly building within you, “Michael, d-daddy, please!”
“Hush,” he huffs, speeding up his movements enough to make you squeal as tears spring to your eyes, “You know what I want, baby girl, give it to me, let yourself have it.”
You grunt loudly as another wave consumes you, your eyes tightly squeezing shut when you feel yourself contracting around his thick fingers yet again. You’re so lost within yourself, you barely hear the slick, sloshing sounds emanating from your heat, but you certainly hear the deep, proud moan that Michael lets out, eyes widening as he watches your cunt squirt around his fingers, droplets wetting his wrist and the sheets on his bed.
You’re practically sobbing by the time he slows his fingers to a stop and gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whimper. “What a good girl,” he says softly, noisily licking his fingers clean of the evidence of your release, “Did so good for me, baby.”
The soft praises help you come back to yourself, brain returning to your body in just enough time to get a glimpse of Michael’s face before he buries it in your neck, a blush creeping across your cheeks from the shine of your release on his lips and chin.
“Thank you.” You whisper tiredly, eyes slipping shut as he presses kisses to your neck and jaw.
He laughs softly, leaning on his side next to you, one hand tracing up and down your body as he looks you over. “You wanna keep going or did I wear you out?”
You keep your eyes shut even as a playful smile slinks across your lips, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you wiggle your hips enticingly, making him chuckle with you.
The bed shifts suddenly, causing you to peek one eye open. “There she is,” Michael laughs when you open both eyes fully, watching as he quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor to join yours. He stays on his knees as he unbuttons his jeans, giving you plenty of time to take in his pale chest and stomach, covered in a light wash of blond hair that tapers off to a trail, disappearing beneath the denim around his slender waist, “Want my cock, baby?” He asks, leaning back down beside you as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and resting hotly against your thigh.
Biting your lip, you can’t help but reach down and stroke him gently, a soft sigh leaving you at the sight of his perfect length. Michael grunts next to you, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he finally feels some stimulation on his cock. The delicate sound makes your heart race, knowing you could bring him such pleasure from such a simple touch. A blush blooms on your cheeks as you gaze up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as you smirk and wiggle your hips enticingly.
He smiles at you, eyes sweeping over your form admiringly, before finally meeting your eyes, slightly squinting as he looks at you without his glasses.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” He teases, chuckling as you nod eagerly and tuck your behind your knees, holding your legs up to your chest as your skirt looks around your middle. He leans in and kisses you softly, a certain emotion behind his movements that hasn’t ever been there before. He keeps you close as he moves, never taking his lips off of yours while he maneuvers himself on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs with a pleased exhale.
Your back arches as you feel him slide his cock between your folds, the head slipping perfectly against your clit. You grasp onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, mewling into his mouth as his hands grab onto the backs of your knees once more, holding you open for him. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, stopping to nip lightly at your skin, before continuing downward to your breasts. He licks and kisses over each one, paying special attention to your nipples and laughing softly at the cacophony of whimpers and whines you make as he teases them with his tongue.
“I’ve got you,” he sighs, pulling back just enough to grasp his cock, notching the head inside your opening, just enough to make you gasp and squirm, “Y’wanna go dumb on my cock, babygirl?” He says lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he bends down enough to make the muscle in the back of your thigh ache with the stretch.
“Oh, please!” You breathe, canting your hips up in an attempt to get even just a bit more of his cock into you, “Please, daddy!”
With a growl, Michael slowly slips inside you, humming deep in his chest as he does, his eyes slipping closed as he savors your tight, wet heat.
“F-Fuck,” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you completely, his girth stretching you to the brim, leaving no part of you untouched, “You feel so good!” You whine, eyes fluttering as you try desperately to remain focused on him, never tiring of the expressions he makes when he’s inside you.
Slowly, he begins thrusting into you, groaning lowly as your fingers grip tighter at his shoulders. His blue eyes roll back in his head, brows furrowing as he slowly speeds up, rocking into you in a perfect motion.
“Feels so good,” he gasps out, ardently biting and sucking at your neck as he does, angling his hips to make sure the tip of his cock presses against that sensitive spot inside you, “So fucking tight, shit.”
The two of you move together, his hips smacking against the backs of your thighs as he plunges in and out of you. You can’t help but blush when the wet, squelching sound of your cunt begins drowning out the sharp gasps leaving your lips every time he thrusts back in, the tip of his cock brushing deliciously against the very back of your heat.
A rumbling laugh sounds in his chest as he hears it too, making you flush somehow deeper as he fixes you with a filthy grin. “Little pussy loves me, huh?” He rasps, groaning at the sight of you trying frantically to answer, your mouth hanging open as useless whines and moans warble past your lips. “She does, hm? Pretty cunt loves daddy’s cock.”
“Yeah, yeah— fuck!” You mumble, nodding your foggy head as best as you can as you gaze up at him longingly, breasts bouncing along with his thrusts, “L-Love it, daddy, fuck!”
He moans softly and grinds himself against you, driving you nearly insane as the small thatch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit deliciously. Your arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck tightly and dragging him down to you, needing something to hold onto as your walls clench down hard on his length, every thrust into you making you see stars.
His hands drop from your knees, arms locking around your neck in turn, pulling you up to him. Your legs lock tightly around his waist, the two of you as pressed together as you can get, your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face back just enough to meet your eyes, “So pretty, so good.” He chokes out, eyes frantically darting between the two of yours, chest heaving as he pants.
You mewl harshly as his thrusts speed up even more, eyes nearly crossing as the head of his cock pounds perfectly against each sensitive spot inside you at the same time his abdomen grinds against your sensitive, swollen clit. You claw desperately at his back as you feel your walls clench and pulse around his length, well aware you won’t be able to hold on much longer but unable to warn him.
Fortunately for you, Michael has committed your tells to memory, even in the few short weeks the two of you have been intimate. “Come,” he commands harshly, gasping out the word just as you feel his length beginning to twitch inside you, “Fuck, come love, come.”
You nod your head wildly, rutting your hips against his as you shiver, your walls growing ever tighter on his length as you hang helplessly over the edge of your high.
“I fucking love you,” he grunts suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in your neck, mouthing uncontrollably at your neck as he keeps mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you so—shit, so fucking much! Fucking come, babygirl, come!”
Your head spins at his confession, heart hammering wildly in your chest as your high slams into you. You seize under him, shaking and crying as you pulse around his length, tears leaking into your hairline while you moan loudly, hips rutting wildly against him as you pull him somehow closer with your legs around his waist.
In the back of your mind, you hear him grunting harshly into your ear, squeezing the life out of you while he trembles, thrusting harshly into you one, two, three more times before stilling, hard cock pulsing wildly as he empties into you, flooding your walls with his warm spend.
Both of you pant harshly, a shiny sheen of sweat covering you. After a moment, you finally relax and your legs slip from around his waist, flopping lazily onto his bed.
You let out a breathy laugh as you look over him, his head still resting against your chest. His blond hair is messy, sticking up in all sorts of ways from where you’d run your fingers through it. Slowly, he relaxes against you too, slumping against you as he sighs tiredly, eventually matching your own spent laugh. Yours eyes slip closed after a moment and you let out a relaxed hum when you feel him tracing shapes onto your shoulder.
“I love you too.”
You giggle when his head instantly shoots up, tired eyes immediately meeting yours as he squints, “Y-You do?” The shock on his face is clear and he blushes so heavily the pink color extends all the way to the tops of his ears.
“For someone so smart you can be really dense,” you laugh, grinning as he sheepishly smiles at you, “How could I not?”
“Say it again,” he asks softly, a clear need in his eyes, “Please.”
“I love you, Michael Gavey.” You murmur, pushing a strand of hair off of his forehead.
He preens momentarily, shoulders seeming to square off with a newfound confidence before a familiar smirk lights upon his face. “No need to be so formal about it, love,” he quips, slowly pulling his softening length from your soaked core, shushing you sweetly as he does, “Daddy will do just fine.”
You roll your eyes with a laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re being an ass as usual!”
He snickers softly, biting his lip with a groan when he leans back to watch his cum slowly leak from you. “Well, lucky I’m your ass.” He smirks, laying beside you as he rests his head on his pillow.
“Oh, so you’re mine now?” You ask blithely, skimming a finger down one of his long arms.
“Mhm,” he hums, surprising you by lifting one of your thighs; you whine when his fingers connect with your center once again, gingerly gathering his cum leaking from you before pressing it back in slowly, working it into you with a smirk, “And you’re all mine, gotta make sure to claim you properly.”
You shudder at his words, biting your lip as you feel a familiar fog invading your mind once again. You don’t bother protesting, not even attempting to make a quick quip as you lean in and kiss him softly. A hot hand against your cheek makes you pull back, smirking when your eyes finally focus on his fingers, still shining with your combined juices.
“Jesus,” he breathes as he watches you take his fingers into your mouth, your own hands holding him steady at his forearm as you greedily suck at his fingers, “I fucking love you.”
“I love you too,” you giggle, finally pulling off his fingers with a soft pop, letting his hand rest against your waist as the two of you lie contently together on his bed, facing each other.
You see his eyelids begin to droop tiredly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes, “You know, you do have to actually help me study later.” You point out, laughing as he groans sleepily.
“Only if it ends with you on my cock.” He mumbles, pulling him closer to you as his breathing begins to even out.
“Like it hasn’t ended that way every time before?” You jokingly question as you let your eyes trace over his features, taking in his strong nose and jaw, smiling at the way his lips are still quirked up at the edges. Eventually, your eyes begin to droop too and you snuggle into him, breathing in his familiar scent as you drift off, something woodsy yet bookish, mixed with something that’s entirely Michael.
Your Michael.
tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenswife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @officerbrowneyes
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#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey fic#michael gavey smut#saltburn#saltburn fanfic#saltburn fic#saltburn smut#my writing#ewan mitchell#ewan nation#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell smut#michael gavey x you#michael gavey oneshot#saltburn oneshot#ewanverse#saltburn fanfiction#ewanverse smut#fanfiction#fic#smut#writing
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[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel
Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.
This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.
The translation is under the cut, thank you!
It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.
Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?
This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).
Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.
It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.
Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.
Let me reminisce a little bit here.
This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.
Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.
But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.
A proper, professional story.
Huh?
My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.
What is a proper story?
The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.
Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.
Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.
A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.
In other words, a proper emotion.
I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.
There was nothing but emptiness there.
A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.
And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.
It is supposed to be that kind of job.
Yet I became unable to move forward.
A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?
How do I find that emotion?
I mean, how did I even write novels until now?
I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.
I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.
What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?
I felt a chill plunging into my back.
Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.
I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.
It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.
I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.
At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”
The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.
At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.
Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.
That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.
I came to realize.
It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.
Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.
Well then.
It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.
Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.
He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.
He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?
During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.
Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.
And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.
This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.
This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.
Well then, see you in the next story.
Asagiri Kafka.
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freminet + aquarium date
♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡
𝐬𝐰𝐨'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I'm making a masterlist soon! so navigation will be much easier!
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Freminet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
❄ first of all, Lyney never thought the day would come when his little brother Fremi would gain the courage to ask you on a date
"i-it's not a date we're just handing out!" Freminet softly protests
"Sorry but I disagree. why else would you be resembling a tomato right now?"
"...shut up"
❄ Lyney helps Freminet get ready like he's a proud mom all of a sudden
❄ Freminet drove you to the aquarium on his scooter and was all blushy when your arms wrapped around his waist (modern au Fremi has a scooter. I take zero objections.)
❄ he will link pinkies with you when you're walking around. he is shy and doesn't know how to just hold your hand :((
❄ he'll ease up after 10 minutes i promise. if you are relaxed then so is he
❄ and he's in his natural habit here!
❄ you know those signs everywhere that say fun facts about each thing? you two aren't even reading those because Fremi is actually a huge nerd about the ocean and telling you all the facts himself. and he makes it more interesting too!
❄ the absolute sparkle in his eye while he's geeking out and telling you about a fucking sting ray is actually so cute.
❄ like, please. let him talk his ear off. if he's talking it means he likes you.
❄ istg. he could have a podcast about the ocean and you'd listen to like its asmr with that soft and soothing voice of his.
❄ oh! and! he will take photos for you! if you're someone who likes to take pictures and post them on social media he can do the photo taking for you. he's actually a really good photographer (probably from how much Lyney needs pictures taken for his own social media page. so Fremi has some experience)
❄ he'll have this gentle look in his eye when he takes pictures of you smiling and looking at the fish and things
❄ he is definitely making the background on his phone a picture of you after this oh my lord
❄ he is so whipped for you :((
❄ if you say you want to take a selfie with him he will get shy. like, he is the one taking pictures, not the one in the photo.
❄ but just explain to him it's a picture for only you to see and no one else and he'll ease up and take the photo with you. he'll do it for you just don't show it to anyone please because he thinks his smile is ugly
❄ LISTEN HERE. TAKE NOTES.
❄ SAY HIS SMILE IS CUTE. SAY HIS SMILE MAKES YOUR DAY. I DO NOT CARE HOW YOU DO IT. JUST COMPLIMENT HIS SMILE AND HE'LL FEEL ALL WARM AND GIDDY IT IS SO WORTH IT AND WILL GIVE YOU EXTRA BONUS POINTS.
❄ his favorite part has to be where you can pet the different baby sharks in the tanks. he absolutely loves the sensation of their backs and fins. HE WON'T ASK FOR IT. BUT TAKE A PIC OF HIM TOUCHING THE BABY SHARK AND SEND IT TO HIM. like he will actually appreciate it and hang the photo up on a wall at home or something
❄ best for last is the gift shop!
❄ OK OK OK HERE ME OUT
❄ you're wandering around the gift shop and he's obviously gonna pay for whatever you want cause he is so polite and gentlemen material like that
❄ and he will ask you "has something caught your eye?"
❄ AND THERE IS 2. MATCHING. PENGUIN PLUSHIES. ON THE SHELF AND THEY WERE THE ONLY ONES LEFT LIKE HELLO IT WAS PRACTICALLY FATE
❄ now you two are matching!
❄ imagine after the date and moving forward or whatever, if you two are on a phone call, he is staring at the penguin plush because it reminds him of you, and it's kind of funny how it's like your voice isn't coming from the phone but from the plush
❄ he now carries around that plush. because. it reminds him. of you. and it makes him so warm inside.
❄ when he drops you off at your doorstep for the night he will be so happy to hear you say:
"I had fun, we should do this again sometime"
❄ cause it means he did something right! he has no idea how someone as cool as you would like someone like him but it worked out! YIPEE
❄ PLEASE. PLEASE KISS HIS CHEEK BEFORE YOU GO INSIDE
❄ HIS HEART WILL BEAT SO FAST HE'S WORRIED YOU MIGHT HEAR IT.
❄ like. he put his hand over his heart to try and quiet it so you wouldn't hear it :((
❄he is this little blushing mess and has the cutest smile on his lips
❄ don't lose this one. he's a keeper.
❄ when he gets home he's stuffing his beat red face into a pillow and lightly kicking his feet
#freminet x reader#freminet fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact fluff#lyney#GOODBYE FREMI IS SO CUTE.#I'd kill for him i swear
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One Night Stand; Part 3
Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader
Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,
Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.
A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.
Word Count: 5,015
New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2
The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.
Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar.
So there was a chance.
One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.
Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk.
It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face.
“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again.
“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.
“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.
“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it.
“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow.
“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”
“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.
You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.
“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water.
“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him.
“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”
“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap.
Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.
“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass.
“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”
“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap.
“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin.
“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow.
“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together.
“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose.
“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.
Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth.
“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin.
You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.
“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern.
“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.
“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.
“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you.
You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers.
“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…”
Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.
Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?
“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…
“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.
Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.
At least you were consistent.
“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie.
“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.”
“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod.
“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.
“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?”
“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots.
“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.
The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.
“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.
How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?
“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin.
The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks.
“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.
“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.
You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.
Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you.
You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date.
The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would.
Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.
“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.
“I’m pregnant.”
It’s like the world stopped spinning.
Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.
It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.
“Okay.”
The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.
“Okay?” You ask.
“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.
“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.
“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”
“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.
“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us.
“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.”
There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.”
“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked.
“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.
“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.
“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.
“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights.
“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it?
Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.
“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks.
Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.
“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.
“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.
“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.
“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.
“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door.
Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots.
“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses.
“Water is okay,” Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass.
“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water.
“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.
“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.”
“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..”
“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.
“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.
“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.
Your heart sinks.
Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life.
“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle.
You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?
Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment.
“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears.
“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips.
“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”
Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.
Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning.
“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.
“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”
“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.
“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face.
“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door.
“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”
The only response is the soft click of the door.
Next: Part 4
#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty#COD#cod x reader#cod mwii#ghost x you#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon#simon riley x you#Riley#one night stand series#series#one night stand#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#pregnancy#unplanned pregnancy
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02/20/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; Cast&CrewSightings;SambaSchutteBTS;RhysDarbyCameo; DavidJenkins/RuiboQian; SaveOFMDCrew IG; Articles; Analysis & Trends; LoveNotes;DailyDarby/Tonight'sTaika;
== Cast & Crew Sightings ==
= Samba Schute Feat Rhys Darby =
Srcs: Samba's Instagram
Videos on Tumblr:
Steard Video - @kiwistede
Merstede Video - @kiwistede
Videos on IG:
Steard Video
Merstede Video
And just to distract all of you again: gif courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew
== Rhys Darby ==
The Our Flag Means Death Fan Page on Facebook was kind enough to get a Cameo for the crew! This one features all things to visit if you're heading to Aotearoa! It's quite a large file so tumblr won't let me upload it so please visit: their site (where you can download the video) or on facebook!
The admin on the page was also kind enough to give us some links to the places he talks about in the video! Thanks friends!
Te Henga Walkway
Kemeu, New Zealand
Te Rimu Tahi Ponsonby
Aoraki Mount Cook National Park
Fiordland National Park
Franz Josef Glacier
Lake Tekapo
Punakaiki
Piopiotahi
== David Jenkins / Ruibo Qian ==
Hey! We got some proof of life from Chaos Dad on Samba's BTS, and a bit of love from Ruibo!
＝＝ Fan Spotlight ＝＝
February Love Collage Fest! So I am very behind on these so I'm going to share a few a day to try and catch up on these awesome collages our dear crewmember WanderingNomad @wndrngnomad on Twitter made!
Today's: Feb 20: Ra Vincent!
Feb 1 : Samba Schutte
== Save OFMD Crew IG Calendar ==
Over on Instagram the SaveOFMD Crew is keeping engagement up with "Crossover Cruesday", suggesting lots of fun ofmd crossovers (including Jurassic Park!) Feel free to check them out on their stories!
Tomorrow's engagement is #WrongWednesday!
== Analysis & Trends ==
So much data regarding OFMD's rank on Max. Thank you @adoptourcrew for this awesome analysis!
FULL EPISODE: https://t.co/HFVLQgm1Um
＝Trends＝
Huh, I wonder why RHYS could be trending today?
Thanks to @iamadequate1 for catching that #OurFlagMeansDeath was trending! A lot higher than the last few days too.
==Articles==
All The Shows Canceled In 2024 On TV & Streaming (So Far)
13 TV Shows Have Been Canceled in 2024 (Including 2 Netflix Series, 4 HBO Shows & More)
== Love Notes ==
Can I just take a moment here to tell you how very proud I am of you lovelies?
Like seriously, you are being so supportive and sweet towards each other. You've been sending out love and positivity and sexy things to make everyone feel better and gah I just, every time I flip through this site/cross platform I am so incredibly moved.
You all are the absolute best, and I'm so very grateful to be a part of this wonderful group of misfits.
I'm sure I've said this recently, but IM SAYING IT AGAIN BECAUSE I FUCKING MEAN IT.
Okay sorry for the caps, but for real I love you guys (gn), you make me smile and laugh every single day and I just you make the world such a better place to be in. I hope you know just how much you matter and what an amazing job you're doing making this community great.
And I just wanted to add some additional love notes from @bethdrawsthings on IG because she always has things I want to say too. Goodnight or Goodday lovelies, I can't wait to see what shenanigans and love we get up to tomorrow <3
= Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika =
ALRIGHT, alright. You might think I'm lazy in choosing the gif everyone has seen but I just can't let you leave this post without seeing it again. Plus it fits with a taika gif, I love.
Taika gif courtesy @meluli!
Rhys gif courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew right here on tumblr!
And bonus Taika cause it's #TaikaTuesday, and I feel like it follows the theme... after...whatever happens after the gifs above.
@blakbonnet Ty once again for this lovely gifset <3<3<3 It's HD and Gorgeous and you rock my socks off.
#ofmd daily recap#ofmd daily recaps#daily ofmd recap#daily ofmd recaps#rhys darby#ruibo qian#david jenkins#samba schutte#ofmd#ofmd bts#our flag means death#save our flag means death#saveofmd#adopt our crew#save ofmd#renew our flag means death
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hii i enjoy your writing! may i request fluff drabbles for gojo, choso, yuta, noritoshi (kamo from the kyoto school) and hajime (aka kashimo the turquoise haired pikachu) please? like he's in an established relationship with reader and they're out on a cute date, being domestic and behaving like an old married couple. some ideas: ikea, grocery shopping, aquarium, art gallery, science museum/observatory etc
bonus if there are sweet romantic moments~ i'm fine with either fem or gender neutral reader, thank you i hope you'll consider my request! i just need something comforting to read bc shibuya arc has started in the anime while the manga is kinda at a tensed climax rn and i feel stressed lmao
plot: cute dates/domestic couple thingys with them!; fluff
reader: gn! Reader
characters: gojo, yuuta, choso, kashimo, kamo
warnings: yuutas kinda mean in this (but in a yuuta way)
(a/n): first req!!!!!! Hi hello anon I hope u like it 💪💪💪 gojo’s bento is very stereotypical Japanese LOL…KAMO IS SRSLY UNDERRATED!!!! Erm I also have like zero knowledge of flowers so sorry if it’s inaccurate, KAMOS IS SUPER CHEESY ENDING GBHBHJHHJHJH
✰CHOSO
Choso loves art. But he doesn’t only love art, he also loves you. So when you suggested to take him to the art museum for a date, he was overjoyed by the thought. But… he was embarrassed that you would see his drawings of you, so he hid it discreetly in his bag when you went to the museum. Yes, he paints you. Sketches you, even. But he’s way too shy to admit it, because god, he could never capture the way your eyes glinted or the way your smile stood out or the expression of pure bliss when he kissed you… he tries to avoid drawing you, but he can’t. You’re in every thought of his. And now, he’s trying to hide his notebook from you. He’s hugging it close to his chest, hiding it under his book bag as he mimicked the painting in front of him. It was a simple one, really…but it looked like it was missing something. He thought for a minute and his brain clicked. It was missing you. You would fit perfectly into it, since your eye color would stand out splendidly. He just finished drawing your face before… “whatcha doing?” He stumbles and knocks over his collection of colored pencils over the bench he was sitting on. “Nothing.” “Are you drawing something? Can I see it?” You ask excitedly. And honestly, could he ever say no to you? He mumbled a bit as he gave the book to you and started picking up the colored pencils, and you were surprised to see your own face staring back at you. “Is-is this me?” You smile. You flip through the book, and you noticed how your face was on almost every page. Choso looks up with a flustered face. “I-well-kinda? Yeah?” You drop down to the floor and hug him. “You’re so cute.” You mumble with a grin on your face. If he had known this would’ve made you like this he would’ve shown you this ages ago.
✰YUUTA
You and yuuta were at the grocery store, the second time this week, because food was running out again, since yuuta always insists on "buying just enough for both of us so we don't waste any food". If you didn't lie, you thought he quite enjoyed your silly little trips to the groceries. Even though the walk was short, you and yuuta often point out interesting things that cross your path. Last week you saw a dog wearing a fur coat, and just yesterday yuuta heard a construction worker whistle out the tune to "From the start" by Laufey. It's those simple things that quickly become inside jokes for the both of you. Upon arriving at the store, you usually follow yuuta as he shops for suitable groceries for today's lunch and dinner. But...after going shopping with him 3 times when you were dating, you noticed yuuta had a habit of looking at food labels. For a really long time. As yuuta examines the ingredients for the canned pineapples (why would you even need to do that? It's literally just pineapples!) you whine about how he's taking so long that you've started getting wrinkles. He then proceeds to give you a chuckle and a "wait a minute, love." and continue to read the can's contents. "(name)." He calls out your name in the most serious tone you've ever heard him in. "what?" He reaches into the cart and takes out a can of "grilled takoyaki balls: freshly made" and gives you a disgusted look. You shrug sheepishly.
✰GOJO
"(NAME)!!! (NAMEEEE)!!!" A tic almost forms at your forehead when you hear that sound, and, lo and behold, it is your husband once again embarrassing you in front of your co-workers. You walk over to him while crossing your arms. "What are you doing?" You hiss as the women (and men) all around you give you jealous looks. "Can't I surprise my darlin' at work once in a while?" He grins while holding up a bento box. Your eyes soften as you look at the homemade bento. Yeah, it probably tastes like shit cuz Gojo really can't cook, but...it's nice to see him put in an effort once in a while. "I wanna see your reaction when you eat it." He says stubbornly as he pulls your hand into the office building. "Oh boy." You think when Gojo shrugs off the security guard and waves to everyone as he waltzes into the lunch break room like he owns the place. He pulls a chair down for you and sits down in another one. "Open it, open it!" He smiles. You roll your eyes with a chuckle, and you're expecting to see some unidentified gunk, but to your surprise, it's a cute bento with sausages shaped like squid, egg rolls tucked in nicely next to the fried rice, and meat balls on a stick. “I made it four times, did you like it? And, well, I may or may have not made our kitchen a mess but it’s worth-“ You shut him up with a kiss.
✰KAMO
“Kamo, love?” “Yes, dear?” “Look at how gorgeous these Daffodils are!” You pick up a potted plant of them as Kamo miles at you. Going on dates to flower shops had become a routine for you and Kamo, since you both would do it weekly. “Yes, darling, they are beautiful. Not as beautiful as you though.” “Shut up.” You scoff as you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. Kamo has a wide knowledge about flowers, knowing what each of them symbolize and what they represent. Before dating Kamo, you would’ve never known that red, white and pink carnations had different meanings, or that white Hyacinths stood for loveliness. Most of the time on these dates you would stroll through each aisles, pointing out flowers or plants that you thought were cute. Kamo would then proceed to tell you the meaning. On the surface, it may seem like a repetitive action, but with Kamo, everything feels new and interesting. He may tell you a story about what this plant reminds him of, or about how this flower wilts to your beauty. At the end of every date (usually the shopkeeper has to kick you both out) Kamo buys you a bouquet of flowers, each symbolizing something about your relationship with one another. Even though sometimes the flowers wilt and you have to throw them away, he knows that his love for you never will.
✰KASHIMO
"Kashi! You look just like it!" Kashimo hums as he opens one eye to see you holding up a cat. You both are at a cat cafe, since you really do love cats and, well, Kashimo doesn't mind cats, really. But when he met you (a certified-cat-lover) his love for them had grown. Now, whenever he sees a stray cat on the street, he takes a picture and shows it to you. "Do I? Its hair's not green." He points out. "Well, it doesn't have to be! You and him both give off the same vibes! I just saw him standing on top of the bookshelf, thought it looked lonely." "You think I'm lonely?" He teases, getting down from his seat to sit on the floor with you. “Nah. You’re never lonely with me.” You grin. “Say hi to it!” “Hello.” He says with a deadpan face. “You have to be friendly with it!” “Hello.” He smiles an obviously forced grin. “😐” “I love you.” “Okay.” “C’mon, baby don’t be like that.” He smirks as he scoots in closer with you. You roll your eyes as you start playing with the cat. Kashimo’s eyes narrow as he snatch’s the cat away from your arms. “Hey!” “If you keep on playing with it more than me, I’m gonna think you were wishing you were dating it.” He ruffles its hair as he lets it go. “You’re so mean. It’s cute! Unlike you.” “Who exactly is the mean one?” You giggle and poke his cheek. “I’m joking, joking. I love you.” There’s a moment of silence as he takes in the words. “Well, I love you more. If this is a competition, I’m definitely gonna win.”
#pei writes 🖋️#jjk#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu yuta#jujutsu kamo#jujutsu choso#jujutsu kashimo#gojo satoru#yuuta okkotsu#kamo noritoshi#choso kamo#choso#hajime kashimo#gojo x reader#yuuta x reader#kamo x reader#choso x reader#kashimo x reader
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for the last couple days I've been thinking about a Dungeon Meshi AU with the girl version of Laios from the magic mirror bonus page. Like, let's say she got married at 16, and ten years and two kids later she's escorting her youngest to magic school and planning to visit with Falin for a couple days before heading home. She finds out Falin and Marcille (I can't decide if everybody should be gender-swapped or only Laios. If Falin is The Boy he'd probably be expected to become village chief despite having creepy ghost magic, but maybe Laios's husband turned out to be a good leader so there's an unspoken "if Falin doesn't come back would that really be so bad?" among the villagers. But if Falin and Marcille are still girls that could lead to some interesting Deconstructing Gender Norms stuff. I just don't know!) have been planning to go to The Island and study a real dungeon, and instantly flips from quiet and demure (masking HARD) to excited and full of energy, and Marcille asks why Laios doesn't just come along. It'll only be a few months, both kids are in boarding schools, won't her husband understand?
The answer to that is no, but Laios has been dreading going back home for exactly the reason that it'll just be her and her husband now, no more kids as a buffer. She'll have nothing to do but take care of the house and be a Good Wife. Her husband isn't a bad person, but he's never understood her and never bothered to try, he just gets frustrated that she can't remember their guests' names, that she only wants to talk about "weird" things, that she cares more about her letters from Falin than she does taking care of her appearance.
Laios lets just enough of this slip that Marcille misunderstands and thinks her husband is a brute, and Falin has always known that being a housewife didn't suit Laios at all, so neither of them argue when Laios decides to abandon her marriage with only a brief letter back home.
On the trip Laios starts to learn magic, but she turns out to take to combat even better. Her encyclopedic (literally, it all comes from encyclopedias) knowledge of monster anatomy means she'll have the best chance out of the three of them at physically fighting things off if they can't find a trustworthy fighter to hire. But overall she's responsible for organizing their supplies and planning the expeditions. Having experience running a household comes in handy!
Of course, the three of them are pretty naive, and they run through Marcille's savings faster than expected, but they're all so interested in the dungeon that they're willing to stick out the tough times. Laios is so happy to finally be able to Be Herself around people that she starts talking about cooking and eating monsters without realizing that's a step too far for most folks. Falin is, of course, completely supportive, but Marcille and Namari shut it down most of the time. (I'm not sure where Shuro is or if he should be gender-swapped as well. Chilchuck wouldn't join the party until they've become successful enough to pay his rates. If he's gender-swapped this is her way of dealing with an empty nest.) However one day Senshi happens to overhear Laois talking about it while they pass each other and they become fast friends. Marcille isn't sure if s/he wants Laios's obsession with monsters-as-food to continue, but can't resist encouraging this because forbidden love affairs are peak romance. But no they're genuinely just friends and the thought never crosses either of their minds.
Marcille has no idea Laios has actually already had a couple of extramaritals with orc men.
(that's all I got so far!)
#I'm not sure about Kabru either. should he be a man and try to flirt with Laios and be baffled when it sails over her head?#or a woman and try to initiate a Gal Pals relationship with Laios which ALSO sails over her head#at least until Kabru learns about the monster thing and expresses interest then ohhhh no you're stuck with her now Kabru what have you done#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi au#genderswap au#laios touden#falin touden#marcille donato
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Okay.
I only meant to make one SJM post cause Ik how certain girls like to tussle
But since the gwynriels and elucians decided to mess w me EVEN THO I SAID TO LOOK AWAY IF YOU GET EASILY TRIGGERED…
There is only one thing to do:
Talk more about why Elriel is not based in delusion — unlike some ships (not naming names, if you take offense that’s your mind questioning things)
Again, I am giving my PERSONAL OPINION. I even said at the end of my last post that I am not the author and I will love & respect whatever SJM does, which some of y’all can’t echo. That’s sad. This is a fictional world.
DISCLAIMER: if you’re easily triggered by elriel/elucian/gwynriel…l o o k a w a y
DISCLAIMER#2: I am unapologetic cause this is my page :)
Also, stop hitting my line with the “I wasn’t going to respond to this but…” or “you’re so anti…” like 1, if you weren’t going to respond, then don’t. It’s not that serious where the world is BEGGING for your opinion. And 2, I’m not anti anything, I’m pro-logic, again if that offends you then that’s a convo for you and you not you and me.
Now onto the main event…
Azriel
My mans is being dragged through the mud both in the books and online. We say we “love him” but are ignoring what he wants and babes, that’s Elain. If you don’t like her personally, that’s not how Az is feeling, that’s how YOURE feeling. Gwyn has one chapter (+1 sentence) of where I can even attempt to grasp at what Gwynriel’s quote as bible, but again, AZ AND ELAIN HAVE 3 BOOKS. Y’all are acting like Rhys in Az’s bonus chapter and if Rhys couldn’t make his stance acceptable, y’all definitely can’t.
Elain
Again, I say, if you do not like the lady pictured above, stop reading ACOTAR cause she ain’t going anywhere. To be so for real, I didn’t mind Elain at first, meaning I didn’t care whether or not she was included in any story whatsoever. But as I read ACOWAR and ACOFAS, I started realizing that there’s something so lovely about having a character who is innately good and wants/practices peace in a world of animosity and ugliness. She brings beauty in all areas of her life and I think that there’s nothing bad about being “boring” cause that just means your life ain’t a dang mess (*cough* *cough* everybody else in this book)
So here is where I debunk all the claims I have grown tired of ignoring:
• #1 - “He hadn’t gotten that far into his planning beyond the fantasies he’s pleasured himself to.”
(Picture credit: unknown) Get a good look cause that’s what he’s doing at night when he thinks about ELAIN. (It’s canon, so cry to yourself)
So, y’all really think you got us here, huh? So, my man Azriel blatantly admits to thinking of Elain when he wants to be intimate and y’all STILL want your girl to be with this man?
Ugh
Anyway, so Azriel hadn’t planned a relationship with Elain…OKAY???? Did you expect this man to have a map laid out about how he’s going to steal Lucien’s mate??? Do y’all even know Azriel? Like, be so for real rn.
Idk about y’all but when I have a crush on someone, I’m not thinking about how to steal them from the rest of the world, I’m imagining kissing them or going on cute dates. Not how I’ll actually make it happen. And ik y’all do that too with your favorite celebrities so stop playing.
He has a crush. Can you let the man figure out if Elain even wants him to act on it before he plans a 12-step mission on making Lucien disappear forever?
Azriel doesn’t want to force his emotions on anyone (as seen with Mor) so of course he’s not going to act or plot without confirmation that the other person in the party wants that. I.E. why he hadnt tried anything with Mor in all the CENTURIES that he liked her.
So, yeah, consider that point invalid.
• #2 - Lucien is Elain’s mate
(PC: @shauna_the_author) *sigh* This one cannot be dubunked, unfortunately, because it is true. You got me here.
BUT
Elain is more likely to marry Nuala and Cerridwen before she spends the rest of her life with Lucien.
And it has nothing to do with Lucien. It really, really doesn’t. Elain simply doesn’t like him. Y’all were in my comments like “oh he didn’t really sell out Elain and Nesta, he didn’t know”. OKAY. But Elain literally says in ACOWAR that she knows Lucien as two things: Feyre’s friend and the MAN WHO SOLD THEM OUT TO HYBERN
Who cares if it isn’t true, that’s what Elain thinks and with her in mind, you can’t say that this bond means anything more to her than Lucien having some ownership of her which she doesn’t like at all. She even tells Graysen that she doesn’t care Lucien is her mate (“I belong to no one, but my heart belongs to you.”)
Whereas with Azriel, my girl is practically skipping into his arms; talking with him about her dream garden, getting him not one but two solstice gifts, almost-kissing him, recoiling at Cassian’s dagger but actively using Azriel’s…
Idk about y’all but if someone who was fated to be with me was acting this way with another girl, I’d drop him like a hot potatoe. AND AS LUCIEN SHOULD. He deserves someone who wants him, not someone who, as even Lucien said in ACOWAR when he was questioning if Elain was “worth it”, is shackled to him.
I harbor no ill will toward this dreamy man, but it ain’t gonna happen so do Elain a favor and lose her number, k?
• #3 - Sarah wouldn’t do the 3 brothers with 3 sisters, it’s too cliche
Write your own book then. Fan fiction is a thing. If the ONLY thing preventing you to see reason is the possibility of a cliche in a book about kingdoms and fairies and magic then your priorities are so out of shape I won’t even spend the time explaining it to you.
This is SARAH’s WORLD. If she wants to be cliche and have the three female protagonists end up with the three male protagonists then let her. Omg.
• #4 - That Gwynriel scene tho
(NOTE THE PICTURE) Oh, you mean the bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? Not that one? Oh, then maybe you mean the other bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? No? You mean the scene with Gwyn…hmmm
OH! You mean the 2 page conversation about training and why he couldn’t sleep (cause of Elain) and the subsequent regift of Elain’s present to Gwyn. Yeah, I know about that but why are we talking about it? Cause that means Az likes Gwyn? Huh?
That’s how delulu y’all sound. And if I hear another “you’re the ribbon Az”, one more time I’ll scream. THE RIBBON WAS ABOUT TRAINING NOT GWYN WANTING TO SLEEP WITH THE MAN. We are talking about the same girl who hadn’t left a library in god knows how long because of a sexual trauma and y’all are forcing her onto another man??
Gwyn was focused on coming into herself and mastering the ways of the Valkyrie. Nesta meant Gwyn found another obstacle in Az that she would have to overcome to become a Valkyrie. The only man Gwyn was concerned about was Cassian and that’s cause he was getting it on with Nesta. Again, be so for real right now.
I refuse to acknowledge this point until the opposing ships acknowledge the 3 books (+ ACOFAS) of build up between Elain and Azriel.
• #5 - Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court
This is the last point I’ll mention cause I actually feel bad for dogging the Gwynriels like this, but it had to be done. (Elucians get a pass bc at least their ship is based in evidence)
Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court, okay, yeah Cassian said that the colors drown her out, I’ll give you that.
But Elain doesn’t know where she belongs anymore, just like Azriel has said about himself. She’s still figuring herself out and what she wants, so it’s okay she looks odd at times or feels at times out of place. Azriel keeps his shadows out 24/7 for the same reason. He doesn’t let anyone past the front he puts on unless he knows it’s safe to. They’re both figuring out how to live their best lives in their current lives.
I’ve heard Dusk Court theories and others but I won’t even repeat those (even tho they’re so good and you should definitely look into them). They just need to find their place in this world (and Cassian was right, Elain DOES NOT BELONG in the Hewn City).
Just like how Nesta didn’t believe she belonged in the Inner Circle, I believe there’s a place for Elain and Azriel where they can be themselves. They just need to find it I.E. their book.
-
Okay, that’s enough slaying of my enemies for one post. Again, this is just my opinion/theories and at the end of the day I’ll be happy with whatever Mrs. Maas gives us as long as she gives us something.
Act correctly or else I’ll be back.
#elriel#elain archeron#azriel#cassian acotar#lucien vanserra#rhysand#Feyre#feysand#nessian#acofas#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acosf#nesta archeron#sjm#sarah j maas#crescent city#house of sky and breath#house of flame and shadow#bryce quinlan#hunt alathar#tamlin#spring court#night court#sjmaas#book opinions#elain x azriel#elain acotar#a court of thorns and roses
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for tbe atla people who has had in-universe fanfiction written about them (along the lines of tina belcher who came from bobs burger belcher)
your asks are always so strange (both in content and wording) that I end up having to read them like 5 times before I can begin to parse them. anyway I love that you cite tina belcher instead of just. rpf. like the literal terminology for this phenomenon that we do very much have at our disposals. so I even can’t tell if you’re asking “who would have rpf written about them” (which also presumably differs from historical fiction about past avatars or smth like that) and “who would write freaky friend fiction (like tina)?” i’m gonna go with the latter bc it’s way funnier.
i think that girl meng would definitely have written some….things…..about aang, iykwim. zombie apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, there was only one bed, etc etc.
i can also just kind of see jin doing this (abt lee from the tea shop or otherwise) i can’t explain it she just has fujoshi vibes. like, whenever ppl talk about how jin, zuko, and jet should have all been friends in ba sing se, i’m usually like “uhh… why tho….” but now i see why. it’s so that she could write jetko rpf about them.
for therapeutic purposes mai probably writes a lot of really cathartic short stories about her entire family, the entire royal family, and ty lee all falling into a sinkhole. but then mai saves ty lee from drowning at the last minute, which teaches ty lee to appreciate her instead of that stupid sinkhole bitch azula (this is all pre boiling rock, obviously).
at one point mai and sokka find a notebook of really angsty fanfiction about the blue spirit and they’re like, “oh my god this is amazing we gotta show this to zuko, he’ll get a kick out of this,” not realizing that zuko actually wrote it himself as a way to work through his identity crisis. he’s just like, “yeah….wow….so cringey, right? but also, kind of incredible how this writer articulates the struggle of the bisected self in extremis so beautifully……right? you guys think so too?” and sokka and mai just look at each other and silently go, “okay…. we may have made a mistake…..”
when katara was a child she would make up stories in her head about finding the avatar and befriending him and having him fall in love with her due to her courage and beauty and (hopefully, someday) waterbending talent and they would defeat the firelord together and live happily ever after. but thankfully she never wrote any of this down, because paper is a very scarce commodity in the southern water tribe and even she knows better than to invoke gran gran’s wrath on that. she never tells aang. although at some point (in sworn secrecy) she does end up telling zuko (assuming that he’d understand considering he also devised fantasies of finding the avatar to cope with his miserable existence), and he laughs for hours.
during their time together in the nwt, yue’s diary gets filled with all kinds of lurid fantasies of sokka killing hahn (in increasingly brutal ways) and sneaking her out of the palace so that she can join team avatar and they can be together forever. of course, whenever they talk about it, she’s just like “yes I love hahn he is great and I love my people and I would never leave my home” so sokka’s just like “okay girl you do you.” but then during the siege, yue actually sees sokka kill a man, and she’s suddenly so conflicted because all her self-indulgent fantasies were a bit too real (and in reality, he’s way more efficient about killing people than he was in her fantasies, almost like he’s done it before….) and she has no clue how to feel about it. anyway, thankfully, yue has learned how to hide her diary really well at this point, because if arnook ever found those particular pages he would’ve tracked down sokka and killed him without hesitation.
ok bonus follow up to the fujoshi jin writing jetko rpf au: eventually they find it (or maybe she’s bold enough to just straight up give it to them. you know what, she might be) and read it. jet’s like, “uhhh…. jin….. i’m not gay. you know that, right?” (he’s actually been hitting on her for… a while now…) and zuko’s like, “okay well i might be. BUT NOT FOR HIM!!!”
#bigpansy#asks#you always get me to write the darndest things#I don’t even know how to tag this#the gaang and#but not really?#meng#jin#jet#zuko#mai#ty lee#sokka#katara#yue#arnook#mai&sokka#maixtylee#sokkaxyue#katara&zuko#tis the thing itself!#(sorry jetko truthers)#(you know I had to do it to em)
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Minor HOFAS spoilers ig?
The Walmart bonus chapter just leaked and good lord some people need to be for real. I'm so tired of people picking and choosing evidence.
So you're telling me that *gasp* Azriel's shadows seem to dance when he hums?? they react to sound/music?? no way. people from all sides of the fandom have been saying that for years (and use it for different arguments), and looks like ppl are still tying anything they can to feed their ship--which is fine but at least make it somewhat accurate.
The above is the last page of the Az/Bryce/Nesta chapter, and just as a refresher, this is the oh-so controversial phrases from the Az bonus chapter:
"(...) one of his shadows went out to dance with it (gwyn's breath) before twirling back to him. like it heard some silent music." and "(...) he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. could have sworn his shadows sang in answer."
I'm confused, which is it? Was the shadow's reaction to her breath & the singing he heard all metaphorical, thereby hinting at a mating bond between gwyn & az (as in "music between souls")? Or was it rather azriel's shadows reacting to a literal sound coming from someone who has arguably been hinted at having some voice/song-related abilities? Because if it is the first, then this new HOFAS excerpt is completely unrelated. Well unless Azriel has a mating bond with himself? pleaseee make it make sense I beg. And if the second is true, it would mean that for someone to be able of making his shadows dance, they'd have to have similar powers as him... its just gonna fuel the lightsinger theories (which btw approx 5 ppl are saying means that gWyn is eViL) so this literally changes nothing. nada. absolument rien.
Oh also.
"He says no partner right now, aka NO FUCKING ELRIEL. ELRIEL IS DEAD." (no hate to whoever posted that btw)
He literally rushes out that answer. Idk about you guys but to me the poor man still seems internally dead over the whole mate existential crisis, which as far as we know was left with him wondering "what if the cauldron was wrong". Sidenote but if I understood correctly, this all happens 2-3 months post acosf and Bryce spends ±5 days in Prythian, so it is very likely that it is all set during Acotar 5, and that the events of HOFAS in general are happening while Az is separated from the other MC (ie. the acotar5 FMC).
Regardless of all I just said, I am going to ask people once again to be for real. cause this whole chapter Azriel keeps glaring at Nes when she is about to reveal too much info, so WHY would he be mentioning Elain (or literally anyone he cares about) to someone who he is said to be highly suspicious of? make it make sense x2
Almost forgot. Last thing.
"Azriel said that Nesta killed the King! He didn't credit Elain!"
... no? for context, this is what Az said:
See my second point above. He told Bryce exactly what Nes did, and nothing more: she beheaded Hybern. We could speculate about what his look at Truthteller made him think of... but tbh I'll leave it to someone else cause perso I dont really see the point.
I am getting tired guys... guess who finally understands what "fandom fatigue" is.
-----quick edit-----
I don't mean to sound hypocritical by tagging ships, cause tbh i dont even wanna put acotar ship tags to this, mais bon c'est la vie et j'en peux plus. this fandom is kind of a mess. Goodnight loves ♡
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i appreciate all the kindness for my uni rejection, and anyone going through the same thing should def read through my replies if they need similar comfort. there’s a lot of “ATAR isn’t everything!” comments tho, which made me realise i haven’t actually talked much about my goals, so i wanted to share a little context.
i’m 30 (on the 17th). i took a gap year after high school and i went to uni at 19. i even dropped out a semester before graduating to pursue the one thing that was making me happy (my first original comic) during a really bad depression (undiagnosed adhd burnout). i got the last units and graduated a year later, a bachelor of game design.
haven’t used my degree once. i went into comics and freelance rather than games. but i also loved that degree and would do it all again, it was absolutely worth it.
i’ve been freelance and self sufficient for 6-7 years, and it’s fun and i’m proud of the things i’ve made, but i’m so tired. i’m specifically tired of having to work 7 different angles to make up one sufficient salary, and even if it ends up being temporary, i’d give anything for a 9-5. have someone else in charge for once.
got to the end of my rope last year and sat down to figure out what i like and what i’m good at. a Life Plan, yknow. i’ve always had an interest in teaching, helping, connecting like that. figured out degrees and became really invested in this new trajectory i pictured my life going on. i was also tired of waiting, because every time i wanted to move back to the city from this tiny town we’re in, somethings come up or delayed it. so zita helped me figure out how we could get the ball rolling and break our lease 3 months early, so we could move back to melbourne and i could start my degree this year. we looked for (and found) an apartment specifically on the side of the city that would be closest to my campus.
i hope that gives a lil context as to why i’m so devastated right now. the last 5 months have been me revving up to start this new chapter at the end of feb and one little email said nah.
the degree i wanted to do was a double degree, secondary education (hons) and a BA of fine arts. i was equally excited for both, because i never got to do a lot of actual art learning in my last degree, and the BA would give me all of that— life drawing, sculpting, painting, wood/metal/jewellery working, digital, fuckin everything. but it was the less important of the pair, when it comes to getting myself a job as an art teacher, because i already have the art experience. it was just a fun bonus, and the education degree was the one i NEEDED.
in nov i had to travel to melbourne to present a portfolio and interview for the BA. they showed me around the studio too, and i fell a little bit in love. i got the acceptance email in december, but i still didn’t have an offer for the education degree. another reason why i’m so discombobulated— i technically have an invitation, but it’s for the less important degree that would just be a money sink. do i go to uni anyway?? or just ignore this invitation and move on?
my state recently made education/teaching degrees free as a way of encouraging more teacher jobs. i learnt about this after i decided i wanted to pursue teaching, so it was just a fun lil bonus that i wouldn’t be adding to my student debt. apparently not, bc i didn’t think about how every teenager and their dog would apply for teaching degrees so they could get straight into uni without any debt. so, even tho i’m a graduate and i’m not relying on school scores, i was one in a million, likely just numbers on a page, and didn’t get in.
there could be other paths. i could start the BA and add the Edu degree later? i could reapply for mid year intake. i could… idk, most of what i could do requires emailing Monash and asking wtf, because i have no idea what’s actually possible and will need someone to lay it out for me.
still feels like i’ve run into a brick wall though. little bit shut down. more sad, not quite angry, but suddenly really spiteful for some reason— like “oh, you don’t want me? okay fuck you then, i won’t ever teach.” so stupid. just a bit fragile rn
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Hello there
I recently had a horrific argument because some people can’t let a ship just be a ship. I genuinely have my fun and love for Cleon and it getting attacked was too much. However the person I got into a fight with also told me to count up 3 reasons why they should work. And I couldn’t believe that I had to think about it and it took longer than it should have. Out of curiosity…if you had to count up three reasons what would it be?
Hello!
I'm pretty sure I've already answered a question like this at some point, or at least the answer is spread out somewhere in several of my posts over the last 3 years.
But don't worry, I will try to make a short summary of the 3 things about Cleon that would make them work as a couple:
1.They have a lot in common.
Although their work occupies most of Leon and Claire's lives, through the franchise they have shown very similar everyday interests and hobbies:
Such as love for motorcycles. Capcom made Leon and Claire the official bikers of the franchise, always putting little references here and there in games and movies;
Their whole style. The taste for custom leather jackets, obviously, but also many other alternative outfits. Believe me, of almost all of Claire's costumes, Leon has one somewhere to match.
Even the same kind of sense of humor, with similar one liners, bad good jokes and literary references that I posted here many times before;
It would be easy to imagine what their life together would be like outside of work, on a daily basis with so much in common and the banter they have when they are together.
2.They have the same morals.
Despite following different paths in the fight against bioterrorism, Leon and Claire carry the same code on how to act in certain situations:
Like the idea that both have already stated about not giving up the fight in the name of their comrades who died alongside them (Damnation, Heavenly Island);
The strong will to protect those in need, like Sherry, Ashley and others, no matter how impossible the mission seems or what has to be done;
Not blindly believing in something and always questioning and digging deep when something doesn't feel right (Degeneration, Infinite Darkness);
Trying to understand all sides of the situation and even sympathizing with some of the villains they faced (Annette, Rodrigo, Jason, Buddy, Dr. Taylor and more);
Along with many others, sharing these characteristics can bring stability to their relationship. Having them always on the same page, knowing what each one stands for.
3.They can understand each other.
Besides the shared trauma in Raccoon City, Leon and Claire went through very similar traumatic events even on different missions years apart and, in one way or another, felt the same type of pain:
Being kidnapped, infected and subjected to a race against time to save themselves and others (RE4 and REvelations 2);
Having to see their superiors whom they trusted (and are somewhat emotionally involved) become monsters obsessed with power. (Neil and Krauser)
Being used, mistreated and framed... Leon by the government and its corruption; Claire (along with terrasave) by willpharma and later on by Neil and the FBC;
Witnessing friends sacrifice themselves for them... some even in a very similar way: like Gabe and Mike exploding in a helicopter while Claire and Leon can only watch;
Don't get me wrong, a lot of RE characters have trauma and they all can bond through that, it's undeniable. But here, about Leon and Claire, I'm not just talking about "what happened and their reaction", but also HOW it happened and the physical and psychological similarities of each event for them. As if the narrative chooses to create parallels between them.
And this opens the door for a deep interactions (like the one in Degeneration) that can add new layers to their relationship and find comfort in each other.
Now just let me give you a little bonus (because I would like to write a lot more, but that is already too far from the short summary I promised)
4.Their amazing chemistry.
Haters will always try to deny it (and that's expected since they are haters), but the chemistry between Leon and Claire is great.
Not just the way they look and smile at each other, but how they act together and how they care for each other. I mean, Capcom didn't write scenes like Claire's big smile when she sees that Leon is okay, or Leon giving up of himself for Claire's safety, or them flirting cracking jokes in the middle of a zombie outbreak, or running and screaming each of their name in despair as soon as they see the other is injured for nothing.
It's to highlight their chemistry. The chemistry they are writing for Cleon.
Again, haters will always deny it, because it's inconvenient for them, but it's there.
Leon and Claire love and care for each other deeply, they can have fun hobbies, overcome hardships and find comfort together. The entire basis for a healthy relationship is there, written by the devs at Capcom themselves.
We just need to wait and see what they do with it.
#claire redfield#leon kennedy#ask#cleon#claire x leon#leon x claire#resident evil#resident evil infinite darkness#resident evil death island#resident evil degeneration#resident evil 2#resident evil darkside chronicles
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Hello and welcome to my 2023 reading wrap up! A big Thank You to everyone who followed my ramblings throughout the year! <3 I will continue through 2024. Maybe I'll learn how to write proper reviews, at least I'll try to remember better what I actually want to say about the stories.
In 2022, I read 93 books plus my own. Guess how many it were in 2023? 93 plus my own!! xD That was huge coincidence and I love it.
Of these 94 books, 4 are rereads (which won't be included in the "Favourite" sections), 2 are non-fiction, 11 are non-queer. I only DNFed 1 book (which is not pictured) and other than that I only disliked 6 books! (And it's a pretty soft dislike in comparison. I don't hate them nearly enough to want to shit on them again. :'D).
So on the the awards!
Most Read Author:
KJ Charles (8 books)
Least Favourite Book:
Daresh (Katja Brandis) (the one I could not finish for dear life)
Favourite Character:
Brand (The Tarot Sequence) and Will (The Will Darling Adventures) (yes, there's a trend)
Favourite Covers (of books I read, not releases):
(There were too many. D:)
Highest Emotional Investment (aka The Agony, the suffering, the why you do this to me Award):
Dark Heir - The Scottish Boy - In Memoriam
Wildest Story:
The Adventures of Pinocchio
Favourite Books:
The Devil's Luck (L.S. Baird)
The Scottish Boy (Alex de Campi)
In Memoriam (Alice Winn)
Just Lizzie (Karen Wilfried)
Dark Heir (C.S. Pacat)
The Will Darling Adventures (KJ Charles)
Gwen & Art are not in Love (Lex Croucher)
The Buried and the Bound (Rochelle Hassan)
More Books I enjoyed greatly:
Oracle of Senders series (Mere Joyce)
Of Feathers and Thorns (Kit Vincent)
Wren Martin Ruins it all (Amanda deWitt)
Simon Snow series (Rainbow Rowell)
The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley (Shaun David Hutchinson)
The Tarot Sequence (K.D. Edwards)
The First and Last Adventure of Kit Sawyer (S.E. Harmon)
Sixteen Souls (Rosie Talbot)
By any Other Name (Erin Cotter)
The High King's Golden Tongue (Megan Derr)
and more!!
Most Used Name:
I counted names last year and didn't want to do it again this year because I read so much fantasy, so the names were all over. Still, there was one who stood out amongst them all with at least 4 instances, if not more. Probably more.
Will
Congratulations.
I have to admit, I've always liked that name. My favourite character of all times and part of my one and only OTP is named Will as well and I kinda hope the last book of their second trilogy never comes because it will probably make me scream and ... ...
Bonus!
This year, I counted pages! Because I felt that most books were much shorter than what I read before. So I wanted to know. Turns out, my feeling was wrong. My 93 books had a whole of 33011 pages which results in approximately 350 pages per book. That's pretty normal I dare say.
That's it for 2023!
I had a very good year in books. I wanted to read less actually, and failed spectacularly because I had too much fun. And if anyone's wondering how I read so much, I read fast and I just didn't do anything else in my free time. Escapism to the max.
I hope, the new year treats you well! I hope, you have fun with the books you read! Let's meet again soon! <3
#yaku reads#best of#2023#books#favorite books#bookblr#book recs#queer books#lgbtq books#queer lit#the tarot sequence#the will darling adventures#in memoriam#the scottish boy#dark heir#gwen and art are not in love#the buried and the bound#the devil's luck
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Scent Headcannons for whoever I want across Fandoms because I'm insane and exhausted, thank you for your time
Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Rook Hunt, Chuuya Nakahara, Howard Phillips Lovecraft, Nikolai Gogol, Sebek Zigvolt, Trey Clover, Jouno Saigiku
Warnings: this is absolute trash slathered onto a page written by someone who got 1 hour of sleep last night. My condolences to you.
Azul Ashengrotto
He smells like the fancy cologne with those terrible labels in French so no one actually knows the scent, they just recognize the word 'musk' and think it's absolutely manly-- whenever he's running the Lounge. When he's alone?
Smells like bananas, it's the gentle scent of his shampoo; it might not be prominent, but if you were to lie down in bed with him and cuddle, you would certainly get a whiff of the flax, chiaseed, and banana shampoo worked into his soft tresses.
Rook Hunt
I'm almost 100% sure there's a vignette where he's mentioned using a cologne Vil made for him, but honestly I'm not sure what's a fever dream and what isn't these days, so he may smell like musk and some sort of flowery scent, or he may smell like cedarwood and patchouli, thanks to his heavily scented deodorant.
He loves anything heavily scented, it gives him a sense of distinct presence and gives you a headache. When he's hunting, however, he uses unscented products, so you may be able to escape the cloud of heady aroma occasionally by accompanying him on a hunting trip.
Chuuya Nakahara
Another cologne user SHOCKING!
Chuuya's cologne is milder than you might think. He doesn't need a strong aroma predicting his presence, and he doesn't like it either. His cologne is light and scented with sandalwood and cherry.
It's just enough to smell on him when you come within two feet of him, but nothing even remotely overpowering.
Probably the most modest cologne user in this list. The rest of them absolutely bathe in them like it's the middle school boy's locker room with axe body spray.
Howard Phillips Lovecraft
He smells like ozone. You might know it as the scent of being outside too long, but it is stuck to him. The general scent of the outdoors fluctuates on him.
He smells like salt water, particularly when you go in for awkward hugs, and his hair is coarse and knotted with sand and sea. He always smells like the ocean to some degree. You could drag him through a shower and wash and untangle that matted hair of his, and throw the most aromatic stuff possible on him and he still would come out smelling like seasalt and ozone.
It's never coming off of him. I hope you enjoy the sea.
G o o d l u c k
Bonus, the first time you tried to wash his hair out a nest of crabs crawled out and he wasn't even shocked.
Nikolai Gogol
He smells like cookies. You may be thinking, why would he smell like cookies? Well, how do you think the DOA lured Sigma in?
It's his deodorant. It's highly strong. After one night of using it, he awoke to his entire bedding smelling strongly of warm cookies. I am definitely not describing the deodorant I use and speaking from experience cough coUGH
I hope you've got a strong stomach, because you will crave sweets every time you get a whiff, or, conversely you will think of Nikolai everytime you smell cookies.
Sebek Zigvolt
Drowning himself nightly in whatever scent Malleus once mentioned was most pleasing to his senses 3 years ago. Probably eucalyptus and Anjou pear.
It is, luckily, a pleasing scent, even if it's so adept at assaulting your senses can smell him coming farther than his voice reaches. He's killing your ears and nose at the same time. The two birds didn't even require one stone, they dropped dead when he got too close.
Conversely, at home, he uses a light, citrus scented bodywash that leaves a pleasing glow on his skin and a comfortable smell clinging to him. He had to stop bathing in the pear scent after clients at his family's dental clinic vomited when he entered the room.
Trey Clover
Another false alarm for bakers everywhere, believing their pastries grew legs and walked out the door. Smells like cinnamon rolls at absolutely all times.
It's very, very pleasant and most people adore the soft scent that eminates from him when he gets close.
It's the result of ordering a perfume on accident, after believing he was ordering a charcoal and birch scented cologne. It smelled good enough that he was willing to overlook the fact that it was for young girls.
Jouno Saigiku
HE SMELLS SO GOODDDD
Turmeric and sage bodywash + flaxseed shampoo.
It's subtle, so you'll only be lucky enough to be graced with the scent if he lets you get close into his personal bubble, which can either be rare, or he could be extremely enthusiastic about keeping close contact with you at all times. It depends on who you are to him.
When he's going to an event or to receive some sort of award, he puts on a splash of pine-scented cologne. It's very classic, but he claims it fits him well.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
June 20th, 2023
-Kaori
#x reader#x character#character imagines#fanfic#fanfictions#fanfiction#bungou stray dogs#bsd s4#yandere#nikolai x reader#nikolai gogol#bsd nikolai gogol#twst x reader#twisted wonderland headcannon#disney twst#azul x reader#rook hunt#rook hunt x reader#chuuya x reader#bsd hp lovecraft#hp lovecraft x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#trey clover x reader#jouno saigiku x reader#azul ashengrotto#chuuya nakahara#sebek zigvolt#jouno saigiku#twisted wonderland x reader#trey clover
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☔️
Now that I've actually read The Beautiful and Damned (essay still incoming), I've been thinking of an AU fic that explores what if Jamie did read the book in season 1. It....intrigues me for a number of reasons.
The fact that Jamie was the only one of the group to receive what is essentially a cautionary tale (no we didn't see most of the picks, but it feels safe to say that Jamie was the one Ted thought needed 'correcting')
The protagonist ends up a bitter, angry, abusive alcoholic. Granted Ted could not have known about Jamie’s dad at the time, but ough. Ted.
Giving this book to anyone and going 'here, this reminds me of who you are' is frankly insulting. I think if Jamie were to confront Ted about that, Ted would consider that half the job done. He clearly just wants Jamie to think about his actions and how he treats people. Unfortunately I could see this backfiring on Ted. He may not mean it personally, but I think Jamie would take it personally, especially because--
Aside from the fact that the protag is rich and full of himself and found to be charming, that guy is nothing like Jamie. In fairness to Ted, those are basically 3 of the 4 things he knows about Jamie. In unfairness to Ted, the other 1 thing he knows is that Jamie is a professional athlete who by definition had to work hard to get to where he is. Meanwhile the protag for TB&D has never worked for anything in his life -- the opposite of Jamie, our battler. In fact one of the defining traits and the reason the protag falls into being a penniless drunk is because throughout his life he was given many chances, and he ignored them all.
I think Jamie would likely get bogged down in the details. On the idea that the book was meant as a critique of him, rather than a lesson he could learn by. Another example of how Ted bringing up topics in a roundabout way tends to get misconstrued by Jamie as mind games.
Bonus round: the protag is very classist. The book occasionally alludes to the unfairness of this, but it is very much an ongoing topic for the protag on why he deserves all his money.
Bonus round: the protag is exceedingly misogynistic. The book almost never disagrees with this. Even season one Jamie 'women can do anything' Tartt would never.
So I think that a fic that explored Jamie's journey while reading this book would be fascinating. From the beginning where it's clear from the start that this protagonist is a spoiled, snobby twit to the end where the protag ends up a functioning alcoholic who yells at his wife and reminisces that by preventing himself from treating her in a physically violent manner, it makes him hate her even more. By the end of the book I can see Jamie being actively triggered by what's on the page--
--which would serve in a number of ways to kickstart Jamie's troubled history a good three episodes before the curse fire.
So yeah, this fic idea is less than a week old and I am still working on it but. Intrigued, I am.
Also I keep envisioning a running gag like that episode of The Office where Michael is watching The Devil Wears Prada and Pam is keeping track of where he is in the movie by what he's quoting at her. Except in this fic, Ted (Pam) would not know what the hell Jamie was talking about for a good long while, because he hasn't actually read the book since early in high school.
Why do I think Ted hasn't read it since early high school? Because if he'd read it later, he'd probably remember that there's a guy in the book who kills himself by shooting himself. It's literally one of the last parts of the book, and it's meant to serve as a punctuation on the consequences of the protag's actions.
Just a thought, but I think if Ted had read it after his dad dying, he might not suggest it to someone. Even if the meaning of the book fit.
For fic related reasons though, this means that Ted's trauma could ALSO be introduced way sooner. In season one even! This fic could have so much bonding through book-relevant trauma it's crazy to think about.
So. Yeah. New wip thoughts in progress. Whoops.
#in other news i got halfway through writing that essay and had people come over and I have not gone back to it -.-#ask game#wip game#suicide cw#abuse mention cw#ted lasso#jamie tartt#jamie tartt book club
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