#you only get that doodle at the beginning of the post bc i do not want to draw interiors

[aemondsbabe]

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 

“Do you?” 

“Fine, yes.” 

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 

“You.” It comes out as a breath. 

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 

“None?” 

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#michael gavey #michael gavey fic #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey oneshot #saltburn #saltburn fic #saltburn smut #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn oneshot #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse #ewan mitchell fic #ewan mitchell smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #my writing

[eiilese]

Love the designs and descriptions you did for the straw hats!! I do want to ask, since they all have different roles and skills do they meet the crew at different points in the story? Like, since Robin is the shipwright would she have met the crew at Water 7 or would it still be Alabasta but under different circumstances? Since she’s not an archeologist she wouldn’t have been raised on O’Hara, right?

Just curious to see what your thoughts are😊 - thanks.

thank you so much for the ask!! sorry this took so long to answer it took awhile to gather my ideas. i’m so happy with how well this au thing was received ;u; TY to people who left tags and replies!! i read everything 🫶

here is the original post for role swap! this post has explanations for backstories! i really did try to have drawings to go with everything but i burned out as this month went on so not every character has doodles :(

—

i kept everything mostly the same in terms of when the strawhats meet each person. i didn’t want to change too much to avoid changing important character moments that happen in canon

this isn’t a super heavy rewrite, there’s a lot of backstory to juggle and i’m not equipped to write such an in-depth au rn 😭 but i might make separate posts for arcs like water 7 or wci!! though i kept a lot of backstory the same theres a lot of rewrite potential for those sagas

i hope these are fun to read about nonetheless ^_^ i included some stuff from @flute-of-pan pan and @onethousandsunnies because they left tags on the original post that were cool ideas

nami, vice capt.

not much changes!! instead of forcing her to chart maps, arlong might just have her around as a servant girl. regardless, the deal to buy back cocoyashi village still stands and nami works hard for it

generally i think her selflessness and loyalty to her village makes her fit to be a vice captain. she looks out for people at her own detriment and was willing to take the fall for such much ahhh

in my opinion she’s good vice captain material!! perhaps a cowardly one but still reliable. also a good treasurer for the crew as always

zoro, cook

zoro grew up training to be a swordsman and competes against kuina, but he also has a knack for cooking as a hobby. he’s mostly the same but sanji’s “stuck on a rock in the middle of the ocean with zeff” happens to him instead (flute-of-pan suggested the cook always suffers the fate of starvation)

kuina decides to run away and zoro is roped into her plans. it goes wrong and they get stranded on a rock, eventually arguing and ending up on opposite sides of the rock with the little food they brought

zoro finds out kuina gave him everything they had soon after she stops replying to him. he’s rescued thanks to kuina’s dad, who tracked them down with vivre cards. kuina’s had long since burned up

similar to canon, zoro continues striving to become the world’s strongest after her death. i think this backstory coupled with him eating those stomped riceballs at the very beginning of the story is so….(GESTURE) it’s very reminiscent of sanji’s no-waste-policy which he would absolutely also have

sanji, sniper

germa 66 has a mafia aesthetic now 👍i only have the willpower to draw reiju here she ended up kind of cluttered but i like my vision

sanji’s backstory is mostly the same: he and his siblings are genetically modified to be the perfect soldiers, but he had a kind nature that made him the target of abuse. after reiju helps him escape, he ends up with zeff and worked as a janitor. zeff loses his leg while trying to save sanji in a maritime accident; though they don’t get stranded anywhere, sanji has to be indebted to him somehow

when the baratie is opened, he works as a busser/guard against unruly guests. flute-of-pan mentioned that he could fire the canons of the ship

when the strawhats meet him on the baratie, sanji still gives don krieg’s crew food. i don’t think his kindness around that would disappear just bc he doesn’t have a whole starving incident

usopp, navigator

on top of bluffing about being the leader of a huge pirate army, he would create fake maps and brag to everyone in syrup village (especially kaya) about these places he so evidently visited. kaya loved his drawings even if the places weren’t real

his dream is to create a Real map of the whole world, not a fake map that he makes up out of stories. drafting the real world makes him a brave explorer of the seas, which he also wants to become :)

when the strawhats meet him, they were basically relying on nami’s limited sailing skills to get around. not only do they get the going merry but they have a real, reliable navigator now! AND he’s multitalented B)

chopper, helmsman

from a young age he set his sights on sailing the seas to escape from the isolation he faced on drum island. he would routinely make little boats for himself to escape the island on, failing each time, and hiriluk would always nurse him back to health

instead of studying to be a doctor, chopper has a general desire to be helpful and acted as an assistant to hiriluk’s medical endeavors

both flute-of-pan and onethousandsunnies pitched that chopper studied stuff like ocean currents!! overall he studied the ocean real hard but would never leave the island without hiriluk

hiriluk’s death would glue him to doctor kureha’s side and it isn’t until the strawhats come that he has the courage to embark on a new journey

franky, muscian

bro grew up running around water 7 trying to get people to join his band. tom and iceberg are still his family. his shipbuilding skills don’t go past an amateur level in this au. he would develop a line of dinky guitars (or instruments in general) that also had lasers/canons/confetti in them. his dream is A FRANKY WORLD TOUR 🤞FREE ADMISSION

many of his weaponized instruments littered the shipyard, spandam uses them in his attack

after the whole tom/spandam situation unfolds, iceberg is the one to find and reconstruct franky into a cyborg after getting run over by the sea train. but he won’t implement piano key abs no matter how much franky asks 🙄

the newly formed franky family protect the city and throw unsolicited concerts in the middle of the street B)

robin, shipwright

though she’s not an archeologist, she still grew up on ohara! instead of archeology, she’s a gifted engineer. her devil fruit made her an outcast and her strange, misunderstood inventions did not help her case

when jaguar d saul gets stranded on ohara, robin constructs the raft for him :) the buster call unfolds the same as canon except this time, everyone’s actually not lying when they say robin can’t read poneglyphs! she never learned!! again flute-of-pan had the cool idea that she is wrongly accused. still, she’s pursued and branded as a devil child

she ends up with crocodile, who believes she can read poneglyphs. she takes advantage of this and earns his protection from the government but her ruse is uncovered when she lies to croc about what alabasta’s poneglyph says (girl cannot read that!)

robin dreams of creating a ship that can carry her and the friends she wishes to have. after meeting robin in alabasta she joins the strawhats!!

brook, doctor

he was the doctor of the rumbar pirates. an injured laboon came to like brook after he nursed him back to health!! when yorki became sick from disease brook tried his hardest to cure him, but failed :(

he was doomed to watch his crewmates die to poison that he cannot hope to cure because he himself was also dying. when he came back thru his fruit it was already too late :( the rumbar pirates Do record a song for laboon though this event cannot be edited 🤞

met in thriller bark; ik that’s a long ass time to go without a real doctor on board

by the time they meet brook everyone’s already so battered that he has to go to town on them with gauze and stitches. the company delights him ^_^

jinbei, archeologist

i mentioned this in the first post abt this au but his interest in history sparked thanks to the history of joyboy and fishman island being so intertwined. at some point in his youth, jinbei frequently visited ohara (prior to the buster call) and grew a strong relationship with the scholars there (i’m just assuming they wouldn’t be racists 🤪) he runs into robin a handful of times

he secretly learns how to read poneglyphs here leading up to the buster call. he wasn’t on the island when it happened so he managed to avoid robin’s fate

his story proceeds the same from there with the neptune army, joining fisher tiger, meeting koala, etc…

i enjoy the idea of getting invited to be a warlord by the government while simultaneously being one of the most wanted people in the world for knowing poneglyph secrets

—

also i’m sorry if there are things i forgot about or details that don’t make sense >—>o

the anime’s pacing has ruined my enthusiasm for awhile lol and i’ve consumed a lot of media since catching up!! everyone’s backstories/canon events aren’t too fresh in my memory but i did some researching to remedy it 🫡

#one piece #art #ei98 art #one piece usopp #nico robin #one piece fanart #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #nami #franky one piece #one piece brook #one piece jinbe #tony tony chopper #one piece sanji #vinsmoke reiju #role swap au

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

I was bored, so... The Gardener theory! I've scrolled all the fairy au posts down to the start bc not all of the y/n posts have gardener tag, and now I can say exactly. From the very beginning ppl wanted to make a y/n fairy, then somebody offered to make a y/n human, and then it growed to the idea of a gardener/naturalist (sorry no link I accidently closed the browser window and I don't want to scroll down again ''ToT). Next post was the reference of y/n as we know them now. Also, there was some lore hints, and I figured out it could be important.

1. The Gardener is related to Nan theory. (all the info is from this post) We had a gardener grandmother, "You seemed to have inherited your 3rd great grandmother's green thumb". Is it Nan??? It is possible! Now, hear me out- "Inheriting this old house"? Nan's one?? She bequeathed her house to her grandchildren! Still no info where do we have this house from though "The grounds are perfect for growing all sorts of plants". These 'all sort of plants' grew in the Nan's garden, too "you live on the outskirts of a beautiful forest, surrounded by fields". Not sure where was Nan's house standing, but I remember she had to ride (a bike? still can't remember) to get to the closest town. Also, in the latest ask about is the gardener related to Nan Meg answered she can't say it directly, and said "But the clues are out there". HERE'S THE CLUES I LISTED GUYS HOW CAN'T YOU-

2. Moon and Lunar are in danger and Sun don't know where they are theory. Let's get back to the beginning again. Somebody asked if y/n was a child and they found the boys after the eclipse (sorry no link again) and OH BOY THIS IS GONNA BE FUN- And back to the reference. "But one day, after the events of a solar eclipse and a sudden forest fire, your life is about to change as you make the most unexpected of friends." SOLAR F*CKING ECLIPSE. HIM. So, now we know that the veil will be open one day, and that the fairy Voldemort is gonna have some fun. Moving forward, this post. "But I have a couple of more stories in the AU to get through first. Including the start of yours, the Gardener". So, the start of our story will be without Eclipse And finally, this newer post. On the doodle in the right lower corner Sun is quite battered and injured. The theory is he's the only one of the fairies who managed to escape the forest fire, and the lunar fairies are still in there. Also, he has Moon's sword, idk why- Most likely, the gardener offered Sun help. "This should help while you recover." About "Don't worry, we'll find him" doodle. Why him? Not them? We know exactly that Lunar is also around by this time. So, hear me out- Sun may think Moon is dead, and he's referring only to Lunar. That could explain why does he have his sword. He can't feel his brother currently, maybe he's in coma or the distance is too big. So, here was my theories.

:)

#answered ask #fairy au #dca fairy au #fairy au theories #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare au #the gardener #gardener y/n #him #nan #the witch #sundrop fairy #moondrop fairy #lunar fairy #solar eclipse

[shizuchansmilk]

heyyyyyy i’ve seen your heiwajima parents art, and i really love your designs! <3 i wanted to ask, do you perhaps have any headcanons that you might like to share? o.o the novels BARELY mention them at all :( i’m scraping for content

DO I!? OH HONEY... DO I 💔💔💔

here's a quick doodle of them as well as a thank u for this ask bc uGH i adore them too (they are barely mentioned and basically everything i like about them i came up with in my own silly little head). this is a pretty long post so do continue reading under the cut if you'd like! ^^

gosh idk where to even begin okok. unironically girlboss and malewife. in my mind kichirou is kinda goofy, the more laid-back parent while namiko's the stricter one despite generally being a pretty quiet person in general.

shizuo definitely gets his temper from namiko i think, and while arguments wouldn't at all be frequent it'd basically be up to kichirou or kasuka to calm them both down whenever they happened ToT

i think namiko has an artistic sort of hobby like painting. don't ask me for any reasonings i just feel like she does, and this passtime eventually rubbed off on kasuka a little since i recall he likes painting too? she'd specifically paint landscapes, her favourites being beaches and the sea. because of this though she tends to spend a lot of her free time a little secluded. sometimes, especially as children, she'd let kasuka and shizuo watch her paint and let them try out their own stuff too, but since shizuo's immense strength became apparent he sort of began to feel like he wasn't as welcome as he once was in a studio full of her fragile hard work so he harbours a sort of reluctance doing any of that anymore.

speaking of, namiko would worry about shizuo. a lot. maybe TOO much in fact. she'd frequently scold him for getting into fights and things like that, and because she's his mother i don't imagine he'd really retaliate. he'd be real pissed off and slam his bedroom door (off it's hinges😭) in a huff, sure, but there's no way in HELL he's pulling a stunt like almost throwing an entire fridge at *her*. she'd be the one dragging him to the neighbours houses and making him apologise for kicking the entire bonnet of their car in or meeting with the head of school because shizuo threw a chair into the wall. idk i kinda get the impression that their relationship is a liiittle strained because their personalities kinda clash but they love each other really. whenever something's bothering shizuo i feel like namiko picks up on it pretty quickly and does little things like make him his favourite dinner or grab a cake from the store on her commute to cheer him up.

kichirou on the other hand is big on sports i think, and listen he DEFINITELY taught his boys how to play baseball. only narita can tell me otherwise like until it's outright disproven this'll always be canon to me. i feel like he's the golden retriever to namiko's black cat in the sense he's a lot more outgoing and talkative and relaxed than her, albeit maybe a little more oblivious. i imagine he was really impressed and boastful about how strong, like a real athlete, his eldest was until the property damage and hospital bills were on the rise.

i feel like kichirou would be pretty attentive to kasuka. like oh he's kinda quiet is he making any friends at school? that kind of thing. where namiko stresses over dealing with shizuo i think kichirou would kind of overthink anything going on with kasuka.

despite namiko being the more temperamental of the two i think kichirou still gets really defensive whenever he catches wind of people talking smack about his family. like you can make fun of him all you want but the moment you get a bad word in about his boys or god FORBID his wife i feel like it's on sight. i don't think he'd go as far as getting into a fight about it but the sudden drop in light-hearted attitude to a very cold and dead serious "haha the hell did you just say?" would be enough to shut most people up. perhaps kasuka gets his acting skills from him, as in being able to switch up at the drop of a hat. otherwise i feel like kichirou's really friendly, though again maybe a little oblivious, probably has met shinra's dad before and thought he was a cool guy but maybe just a tad strange (a sizeable understatement).

in essence, think like phil and claire from modern family or mr and mrs fox from fantastic mr fox. that's basically the dynamic of them i have in my head =w= i might have more HCs but this is all that's coming to me rn. again, thanks so much for the ask!!!! ToT💕

#durarara #drrr #kichirou heiwajima #namiko heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima #kasuka heiwajima

[probably-not-a-rutabaga]

HOLD ON abt ur au. 2012 leo having. no info exept his relation w splinter. it hurts me AND gives me life. i. need to know why what is the plot PLS beggjng on my knees (im already in love w the au)

hehehe okay, so for a super basic summary

splinter basically raised leo to be nothing but a ninja from a young age (he still trains the others, but significantly less than leo). at some point leo starts distancing himself from his brothers bc splinter says they're "distracting" and leo wants nothing more than to get her father's approval.

when their allowed to go topside, splinter lets leo lead them. by then the damage is done and leo is basically a shell of his former self, only really talking when telling them what to do.

raph (who's grown to hate leo) and donnie have already given up any hope of getting their older brother back, but mikey hasn't !!!

uhhh things happen, farmhouse arc, leo wakes up stressed and like "ayo,, what" but still distances himself. eventually mikey starts getting leo to spend time with them (training, watching tv, eating etc...) and the bonds begin to form again :D

i haven't thought too much abt what happens when the return to new york/space arc, but the happier leo ref is post splinter's death. she's finally given the chance to heal and be around his brother's without fear of punishment :)

hope that was a decent enough explanation to keep you interested- i've already started writing out an actually coherent fic abt this and i may try and do some doodles/comics!!

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #2012 tmnt #2012 tmnt au #tmnt au #i'm also up for name ideas for this au as i'm so bad at naming things ! #where it all began au #wiab au

[mokutone]

🌿🌱 Mokutone Masterpost 🌱🌿

Hi! Welcome. This post will function sort of as a FAQ and will be updated as such. You don't need to read it, but if you've had these questions, here are my answers:

"Do you take Commissions?"

Not yet! I do, however, have a Ko-fi, where I'll do some little thank-you doodles!

"Do you have a shop?"

No, not at the moment! I am considering it though...

"What materials do you use?"

By far the questions I get asked the most are about this, so this will get very long and I'm going to put it under a readmore. I will address the papers, inks, watercolors, dip pens, brushes, and other materials that I have used.

I also answer questions about my materials under the "my ninja tools and scrolls" tag, and give art technique advice under the "my jutsu" tag. Yes it's silly, but this is a Naruto art blog. this is what we all signed up for.

Mostly, this will be a list of my traditional materials. I will address the paper, pens, inks, and various types of watercolor that I use!

📄 PAPERS: 📄

—Strathmore 400 Series Heavyweight Drawing Pads 100lb/163gsm. (these numbers refer to the weight/thickness of the paper. thicker paper is less likely to buckle) ———> This paper is extremely cheap (a 9"/12" pad is often under 10 dollars), takes inks EXCELLENTLY, but it's a much lighter paper, and it will buckle under watercolor. For this paper, it's good to only paint small sections, to paint very slowly, or to paint with the paper taped down to another surface.

—Fabriano Hot Press (Hot Press means the paper is smooth, not rough) Watercolor Paper, 140lb/300 gsm ———> I use this paper the most because it's fairly cheap to buy in bulk, while still being good enough quality that my picky watercolor teacher approved it, Lol. I can usually find a 9"/12" block of it with 50 pages for about $20 if i look hard enough—and the paper is hardy enough that if I'm careful, I can paint on both front and back of the paper. Bad for archival purposes maybe, but great for having fun and not spending more money. [Example]

—Vision Cold Press (Meaning the paper is rough and textured) Watercolor Paper, 140lb/300 gsm ———> My watercolor teacher said this stuff was garbage, but...I don't really care! It is DIRT CHEAP and YES it buckles a little despite being thick, and YES it feels like cardboard in your hand, and YES it ONLY comes in coldpress, but the texture is grainy and even and nice... and like. when I say dirt cheap I mean dirt cheap. I used to get the 6"/9" 30 page pad for like 6 or 7 bucks. [Example]

—Arches Watercolor Pad/Block, Hot Press, 140lb/300 gsm ———> This is that expensive shit. I got a pad of it for a class back in college, and I dip into it now and again—I also bought a little bit more when there was a sale recently, a 12 page. It's 100% cotton, and it takes pigment based watercolor REALLY well, but it's not so good about dye based (I'll discuss the difference between those later) [Example]

🎨 WATERCOLORS: 🎨

DYE BASED:

Dye based watercolors, because they are based in dyes instead of pigments, are not lightfast. They are not archival. If you expose them to sunlight, they will begin to fade, and some will fade rapidly. That said, if you hoard your art in a dark place once you've documented, go hog wild! The fact that they're all liquid already makes them really easy to use.

—Ecoline Watercolor [Liquid] ———> These are a little watery, but they are cheap and easy, and I used them for the majority of my early watercolor art on this blog!

— Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolors [Liquid] ———> They are expensive, and sold in small quantities. They are, however very bright, like that label isn't lying! They're super concentrated! I have not actually run out of any of the ones that I bought (at a store closing sale bc otherwise they're too expensive lol) because they only use a small amount at a time

— Dr. Ph. Martin's Synchromatic Transparent Watercolors [Liquid] ———> They are also expensive, and also sold in small quantities. They aren't really made for paper either. They're fine. Probably not worth it though!

PIGMENT BASED:

—Black Sheep Art Supply's Pans And Half Pans! [solid watercolor] ———> These have been very enjoyable for me to work with!! They're very bright, affordably priced, and the paints are from a small business, as well as being handmade and from the first Black-owned art supply store. I've had wonderful experiences ordering from this store, and I wholeheartedly recommend them!

[EDIT: apparently the shop is on a break or something! oh well]

—Dr. Ph. Martin's Hydrus [liquid watercolor] ———> These are liquid watercolors, like the dyes, but they are archival and somewhat light-fast, which means they can be exposed to moderate amounts of sunlight without fading. I haven't gotten to use them much yet, but they seem fine. You do have to shake them a lot to mix the pigment in. They can also be a little difficult to rewet, and may appear somewhat flaky.

—Turner Professional Artists' Watercolors [tube/semi liquid] ———> These are watercolors stored in tubes, you know, the traditional way! I used these for class, back in college. They're cheap, but well pigmented as far as cheap watercolors go. If you're really on a tight budget, this is probably the best pick.

—Holbein Artist' Water Color [tube/semi liquid] ———> My best friend (the one who got me into naruto!) gave these to me! Usually they can be very expensive. They're very high quality, and gorgeous. I'm so enamored with them and touched by the gesture that I use them very rarely, I don't want to lose them! They're special to me!

✒️ INKS: 🖋️

I only use permanent inks which will not bleed (much) when water is applied, due to working in watercolor. This list will reflect that

—Dr. Ph. Martin's Bombay Black India Ink ———> I use this the most frequently. It's a little shiny, but not too bad, and it is completely waterproof once dried. Of the Ph. Martin inks, it's the cheapest by far, and a 1oz bottle (which lasts me months) can be found for about $5. —Dr. Ph. Martin's Black Star (Matte) Ink ———> Very waterproof, does not shine much at all. If you record your art with photography rather than scanning, this may be useful to you! Unfortunately, it's about $10 a bottle. —Dr. Ph. Martin's Black Star (Hi-Carb) Ink ———> Very waterproof, very shiny. I don't use this much because I don't like my ink to shine, but it can be very nice with the right application. Unfortunately, it's also about $10 a bottle.

—Yatsumoto Sumi Ink ———> you can get this stuff cheap. Like, you could get a 12oz bottle of it for like $12. That's very cheap. Unfortunately it's not completely waterproof, and if you agitate (rub the brush vigorously) over the ink, it may seep into the watercolors. If you're careful though, this won't be a huge problem. It's also good for ink-only work.

—Liquitex Acrylic Ink ———> This is also very waterproof, but it also takes longer to dry than the other inks, so I find myself smudging it a lot. It's also about $7 for a 1oz bottle, but about $20 for a 5oz bottle, so if you're committed to the ink, it can be cheap to buy in larger sizes.

—Diamine Registrar's Blue-Black Ink ———> Expensive. Really more of an interesting find than a practical ink for me. This is mostly waterproof, but a very thin ink, and you can feel the nib get scratchier when drawing with it. That's not a bad thing, it's just a textural thing. It's produced in a similar way to medieval inks, with iron and oak-galls, and because of this it has some interesting properties: When first applied to paper, it's a pale or sky blue, but it darkens rapidly as it dries, becoming almost black over time. It runs the rusk of corroding metal pen nibs due to its chemical makeup, and so nibs which use this must be washed extra thoroughly.

✍️ PEN NIB HOLDERS: ✍️

—Speedball Sketching Pen Set: ———> Easiest to get your hands on. Comes with two nib-holders and 6 different nibs to try out, available at most art stores, and usually around $10. It's also not bad quality—I don't use the tiny little nib-holder any more, but I use the standard black one all the time.

—Tachikawa Comic Pen Nib Holder, Model 40/ Model 36 ———> My Favorite. Thank god it has a little rubbery thing around it, because I grip pens hard 😭. It is able to hold standard-size AND small-size nibs. Occasionally, I find that some "standard-size" nibs might not fit, but I've never had this issue with the small size nibs.

Honestly, those are my favorites, but it's really hard to go wrong with pen nib holders. If they fit comfortably in your hand, and they hold a nib, they're good!

🖋 NIBS: ✒️

Nibs are difficult to acquire. They can be expensive too.

— Speedball ———> If you want to get a variety of nibs to experiment, this is my first recommendation. They have a wide variety of nibs to experiment, and find out what your favorites are.

—Tachikawa Pen Nibs ———> They've got less robust options than Speedball, and a little more expensive too, but they're very good nibs! The G-Nib is the standard nib used in comic making, and especially for lettering. It's a very stiff little nib, so it doesn't flex too much. This makes it pretty reliable, and especially good for lettering/writing.

—Manuscript Leonardt Pen Nibs ———> A lot of options for everything from caligraphy to cartography to sketching, also a little expensive—what is notable is that their pen nibs tend to be on the more flexible side, allowing the artist to get a lot of line weight variance. This is bad for lettering, but fun for drawing! They also have pens shaped like hands. Neat.

—Brause Pen Nibs ———> These were always super expensive where I was. I got a few. They come in this dorky plastic case with a sliding top, and I kinda wish they didn't bc that's a whole lotta plastic for something that coulda been stored in cardboard or paper, lol. I now use the cases to hold perfume samples. They're good pens, they're just expensive and the packaging is dumb.

—Whatever the hell is on Etsy. ———> People love to sell vintage things on etsy, and pen nibs are no exception. Often, you can find random samplers of pen nibs, or collections of pen nibs for sale. Sometimes you can find a whole box of one kind of pen nib, often times with a lot of nibs in it. I once bought one of these for like $45 and i don't even regret it because it's got a shitton of nibs and I realllly like using them. It will literally last me the rest of my life.

🖌 Brushes: 🖌

I don't have a lot to say about brushes! Ultimately, if it makes a mark on paper, and you like the mark it makes...I think that's a good brush.

I've been told you should go for ones which hold a shape, I think, and don't spread out in a big puff. Ones which use animal hairs are apparently best, but they are also very expensive. Generally, with watercolors, you will want to use "round" brushes, especially for beginners. If you want to experiment, I recommend Filberts, but there are also sword/dagger brushes if you're painting something like grass. Mostly I use:

—Creative Mark Mimik Kolinsky: ———> As the name implies, these are meant to mimic (synthetically) brushes made from Kolinsky fur. These are nice and I like them. They're cheap, but hold their shape well, and feel good in the hand. —Creative Mark Mimik High Performance Synthetic Squirrel Hair Watercolor Brushes: ———> What a name. I find these to be just as good for me as the Mimik Kolinsky, but a little bit cheaper. As long as ur careful not to treat them too roughly you'll be fine.

—Princeton Watercolor Brushes ———> Good. Expensive, but good. They have a variety of synthetic + natural materials, they are well made, if you have a little money to throw around + want a brush which will preform very well but will not destroy your bank, this is a solid brand. I've used ones from their Velvetouch, Mini-Detailer, and Heritage collections before, and enjoyed them all very much.

Additional Supplies:

—Porcelain Palette ———> I highly recommend using a porcelain palette instead of a plastic palette, both because I like to cut down on plastic when I can, and because the porcelain palettes are just....so much more convenient. The glass-like coating means that they will be easier to clean, whereas all of my plastic palettes over the years have gotten permanent stains. They're a little harder to accidentally knock around because they're heavier, which probably isn't a problem for most people, but I can be kinda clumsy. I can't tell u the number of times I've sent a full plastic circle-palette of watercolors flying lol

[wigglebox]

Hellllewww my tumblr frens! 

I have some art updates to share with y'all which will be starting next week! I also made this post on Twitter.

The tl’dr already is:

Commissions opening up 

Ko-fi tip link

Art goals

Redbubble overhaul

Okay going more into it:

1) Commissions

Beginning next week I will hopefully have my commissions opened. I didn’t go as much into detail on my Twitter but essentially what’s going to happen is I will set up a Google form people can send in whenever they want. However, I’m only working on 5 people at a time. Therefore, the first batch of 5 will be messaged with their place in the line, and then once I’m done with that the next 5 who submitted the form will be messaged etc etc. 

I’ll be making a longer post with prices and how it’s all gonna work etc. next week — but just wanted to let you know that I will be opening commissions soon! I’m really excited! 

2) Ko-fi tip link

Also beginning next week, you’ll start to see [in smol font] on my art posts on here and in the replies of my Twitter posts a link to a ko-fi account. This isn’t for signing up for exclusive content, but is just a tip jar for like $1. 

I debated for a long while if I wanted to set up a bigget paywall with exclusive content but I decided against it simply bc I just don’t want to do that. I don’t have the resources to provide a lot of incentives but also — our wallets are really strapped right now [I know mine is]. I don’t want y’all, even if anyone was interested, having to choose between me or someone else. 

I also just think it’s more accessible for folks — even it it means I may lose out on more money coming my way. 

[this isn’t me shaming artists and my friends who have exclusive content, I just don’t feel like I can or have the willpower for that right now] 

So, just because I am still trying to really save up for a new, bigger, better iPad for my art, I’m going to just add a tip link. Do not feel like you have to tip me, I’m not gonna shame anyone who doesn’t — it’s just gonna be there in case anyone feels like it. But again, I know how hard money is right now to have. 

3) Art goals

My art goals for the next couple of months include getting bang-art done, opening up commissions, but also continuing with the exploration of pixel art and animation. Animation will be easier once I get a new iPad haha, my current little iPad Air is gasping for a break atm. 

So, expect to see a lot more of that! 

I also will be expanding my personal art a little more so I can build a portfolio website! Idk how many folks actually care about my personal art, but since I’m trying to transition into making art into a living, I need a website with original art on it! 

4) Redbubble overhaul

My Redbubble is kind of a mess at the moment with older designs that may not work as well, designs up before I realized how to really color with CYMK, and not a lot of themes or anything like that. 

So, I’m hoping in the next few weeks to get some designs up for Halloween/Spooky season as well as start to work on Christmas things so they’re available on time and before Christmas unlike last year. 

Redbubble won’t be a high income earner for me since I don’t up my share by much since I still want the price to be affordable, however I want to still put some more current designs up for anyone who may be interested. 

--

So that’s it for now! 

So to recap, no eclusive content subscriptions, just other random ways I’m trying to save up money for a new iPad which includes commissions, a tip jar, and updating my Redbubble.

Obviously I’ll still be posting my doodles sans commissions and Redbubble, so that won’t be going away! 

Thanks for reading! <3 

#long post #housekeeping4444

[froqgy]

super ultra huge tunic the game spoilers blah blah dont look if even want to slightly see it for yourself no fail mode super long post again bc of doodles

cathedral time! the game told me to get scared so i got scared. i was scared the whole time. roger can attest to that. but also i was being soooooo brave.

so that was. um. so. where to begin. okay so first, i was scared. thankfully you could avoid most of them and easily dispatch the others. i only died once or twice in getting to... the next area.

also realized they or me don't have scarves. well my little brave fox is so specials.

roger said they made whimpering sounds, and i didn't hear them until later. 🥹

the altars or whatever they were worshipping... the 3 eyed robots having tentacles coming from that...wechatlaugh but it was a tiny bit expected if you've read a previous liveblog. if i have to encounter them for real like that ill shit myself. also those poor husher birds getting corrupted like that..

so i went into the

god that thing is SO scary... i wonder if that one is unique from all the ones they were cramming into the pillar nodes. i have to say the fucked up christian imagery is funny and i cant take it that seriously. they put that fucked up fox on the cross. also i realized i think this was the only scene i remembered from the trailer. i drew what i remembered seeing in a prev liveblog...

so i went to activate the pillar and the fox was ..gone when i went back so i was thinking it either was submerged or sacrificed or it left to be a boss or all of the above.. scared btw... still bc i don't know the answer. i didn't walk up to it before that bc i was... scared. so anyways i went to the basement so frightened for my life, thankfully i had my trusty coin to give me comfort... ill draw that later. i stalled going down there chatting and whatnot and drew this meanwhile bc i was like im hungry (it was 2am at this point).

roger's chips... anyways i finally headed down and realized what the tiny drawings on the map meant. . . trials to survive you have to do all in one go and also you only get one rest to heal presumably. FUCK okay it's going to be hellish but next time i gotta grind it out... sniff... my gamer pride is preventing me from during no fail mode on...

so that was the end of that session huh? not a very great note to end on seeing as another grind session starts immediately next time i play... (i should probably use items huh. but it's sooo hard) but. no. oh no. that was not the end. because tunic likes to scare and shock me all the time. let's head back a few hours into my session. i open the game. i see the "load game". i remember wondering earlier the menu options said new game and continue game, and thinking i could start a new game and see the intro again but i didn't remember if there were a save slots. so now i think, oh, well we already looked up the intro so it's less relevant now but it's good to keep in mind there's multiple saves. later i said we could replay the game after i finish (no fail mode...) and translate as we come acrosd the text... right.. so this information is important. that i checked the load game files in the menu..

BECAUSE.

because.

at the end of that session.. i decide to check how many hours i spent. in my ONE and ONLY save file... and guess what. guess what.

I see this. a second file that got added somehow during the events of everything i did this session. seemingly random amount of money, maxed out hours and stats, only 13 manual pages all of which are ones you get early on in the game, no gun but the magic item that i haven't seen in game, whose silhouette was present in the manual. now i know it's an hourglass that slows down time. but the... what loaded in... was the strangest of all. top down perspective, reminiscent of old loz games, my grayed out (looked gray purple to me but) fox in a hallway with a single gold line running down the corridors, empty save for me and the pots, which i promptly destroyed and did not respawn. maybe they will next time i load in. probably not unless they want to be so nice. hopefully that wasn't relevant or needed to solve the enigma that was this room.

I accidentally inserted this stupid poll and cant delete it.

eerie music plays here. the corridors repeated so i would go up and step into the bottom of the same room. "ah", i thought. "it's one of those puzzles." maybe. i didnt try very hard to figure out what to do. i tried to look through the manual pages they gave me, but couldn't determine much from them. i tried flipping the one coin i had. i tried turning the hourglass on, which slowly drains mana and makes you slow as well, letting me see how the dash looks like in slow-mo, which isn't great with which the angle of the fox's huge bobblehead goes I'll tell you that.

so. i dont know what to do!!! now. other than face the trials and mess with the second save file more to see if i can glean anything. I was hoping if i could figure out the supposed secret of the file, i could get the hourglass in my file that way... who knows... this game is doing something to me.

#tunic lb

[bobthebobking]

POKES YOU POKES YOU POKES YOUR tell me abt your wips <333 super interested in ink's awakening and ALSO,,,,, any tidbits of info you could give me about niko and link <33

for this ask meme. anyone else who sees this, feel free to send an ask if anything catches your eye! and ty hyper for my life <3

i’m gonna post a snippet about niko and link first, assuming u mean link & niko leaving new hyrule bc i love it sm and want some of it to see the light of day kdfjgnjd disclaimer that i haven’t really edited this at all :’) 

premise is that link feels restless and wants go sailing again, he and niko are around mid-late 20s and New Hyrule is becoming decently established. i have like 2300 words written in the doc for it, this is just the beginning >:)

~ ~ ~

Link thought he was safe, that he hadn't been seen. But apparently he'd lost some of his sneaking ability in the years since settling in New Hyrule, because hurried steps crunched along the shore toward him. 

"Link?? What the hell are you doing out here so late?" an incredulous whisper hissed behind him.

"I'm leaving." 

"On your own? Does Tetra know?" 

"Duh, I'm not an idiot." 

"What about Aryll?" 

". . . She'll figure it out." 

Niko stared at him, stunned, and nearly shouted, "You didn't tell Aryll!?" 

"Shh!" Link rushed to cover Niko's mouth with his hands. 

Niko slapped them away and lowered his voice to an angry hiss, "You're the only family she has and you're just leaving?”

Link huffed as he turned back to the S.S. Linebeck, "She'll be fine, Niko, she has-" 

"Link," Niko ground out through his teeth. This argument was going nowhere. Link took a breath, trying to avoid escalating this into a shouting match. 

"You can't change my mind about this, Niko." Link finally looked at his friend properly to find wide, wet eyes staring up at him beneath the angry furrow of his brow and oh, gods, if Niko cries… Link straightened his shoulders as he turned to fully face the shorter man. Much softer than he intended, Link repeated himself. "I'm leaving." 

Niko worked his jaw for a few moments, staring at Link, until-

"I'm coming with you." 

Link blinked. 

"What? No you aren't." 

"Yes I am, you big octo bastard. Someone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed. Give me 20 minutes." 

With that, Niko ran back to his house, presumably to pack his things, leaving a stunned Link on the dock.

~ ~ ~

what if.. niko and link went sailing together and fell in love... haha just kidding....... unless? KDFNGKJD they mean sm to me and its CRIMINAL that like there isn’t any content about them. niko gave link bombs theyre practically soulmates HELLO!!! in this fic they’ll have some shenanigans and close calls and a fun lil adventure exploring the sea <3 also yes they’re stealing the ss linebeck bc linebeck’s out exploring new hyrule for treasure. link’s been maintaining it in his absence n hes just like ok u know what? free ship. byeeee

gonna put the stuff about ink's awakening under a read more bc talking about it might reveal major spoilers about exit/corners, a free browser puzzle/mystery vn that you can play in its entirety HERE. I highly encourage everyone to play it bc it’s amazing and free :]

ok so the ink’s awakening stuff is basically just like.. a universe swap? bc e/c and link’s awakening have similar aspects, especially in the beginning and the general premise. ink and link both wake up in a strange bed with a pretty girl, fall in love with her, and have to go through many puzzles and near-death experiences and such in order to leave... and then 🙊🙊🙊

i really just wanted to doodle ink+aether and link+marin in each others outfits and cutscenes bc like it would just be so good! marin is so wild she would do so well in a death game vn, she’d finally be allowed to say fuck. and aether is so sweet she deserves to have a nice little island life <333 here are aether and marin’s outfit swap doodles i’ve already done, i love them so much

i havent had the chance to do ink and link yet but here are lil doodles kdfjngkd

the text says “well, this is awkward!”, one of the first dialogue options in e/c and it makes me laugh every time i love ink so much <333 and imagining him saying that after being shipwrecked on a remote island is even funnier KJDFNGD and link in a lil detective coat and scarf like.. how can u not want that in ur life!! link is a master puzzle solver and he would do amazingly well in exit/corners (exit/koholint hehe)

ty again for the ask!! <3333

#bob wip #asks #answer #hyper-circuit-official #ask meme #loz #wind waker #link #niko #marin #exit/corners #exit/corners spoilers #e/c #ink greer #aether irving #loz ww #nikolink #legend of zelda #crossover #loz la

[riddlerosehearts]

🐍 same, there were many things i did not enjoy about HoO but leo is one of the highlights i will always treasure from it. in fact I made my OC just so I could make them be friends with him bc it's like an old childhood dream of mine 😭 it's several years late but i will do it anyway. have u ever made any pjo ocs?

I read your post and i agree with you so much!! EN did jamil so dirty and just the few changes they made to his lines flipped the entire dynamic between him and kalim and basically completely erased how tragic and difficult their situation is, and portrayed jamil as basically just someone throwing a fit over something easily changeable when it isn't. I play on JP so I was so surprised to see the changes EN made, it sucked seeing so many ppl hate my fav

oh nooo yeah if both riddle and jamil are in the athena cabin i have no clue who'd become the head counselor... this is so hard, if only we could have more than one :(. Kalim'd def be in a different cabin at least, but just him being around camp would make it so much harder for jamil to be himself, it hurts my heart. there are so many ways you can write this and it all has so much angst potential. on the other hand you're so right abt the missed leo nico friendship bc i always intuitively felt they could've be good friends without knowing why, but your analysis puts everything into words and makes me even sadder we had such a missed opportunity... like cmon rick....

idia labwear groovy but nico is actually so funny - nico ominously approaching cats with his hands out like the grabbing emoji when nobody is looking and completely unaware how scared the cats feel, meanwhile all he wants is to spend some time with kitty before the chain sneezing sets in

I love your ideas abt the outfits I think they fit super well!! if i get around to doodling the characters in a twst au i'd like to reference your ideas if that's okay with you! They'd both probably attempt to wear the uniforms as a full set in the beginning then decide it's way too much of a hassle/feels too stiff (totally not an excuse to want to draw them in the full outfit), then begin modifying things so it felt more like themselves, though at least I think they both would like the ignihyde uniforms better than the other dorms, igni's seems more casual and practical than the other ones imo. for some reason i feel like the savanaclaw colours would look good on leo, i just picture yellow being a nice colour on him - but leo in savanaclaw would just be like him stuck with a ton of jocks feeling confused why he's even there lool

also imagine leo meeting ortho, he'd be so fascinated that something like ortho was possible and be inspired to make a robot of his own (twst festus origin story?) idk if there's a robotics club but i could see that being leo's club of choice, nico maybe board games... which means he'd meet idia and azul omg, what do you think?

sorry it took me a bit a longer to answer this time. i haven't!! i don't make OCs super often in general, i don't even really have one for twst haha, but i love seeing all the creativity other people put into their OCs.

yeah exactly!! i do keep up with the JP main story updates and have read most of the JP events through fan translations, but i started by playing on EN. and i feel really lucky that i recognized the words for master and servant and could tell they were mistranslating some things, because i can imagine that otherwise i would've come out of it hating jamil for "betraying" kalim too. instead i loved him and was a little annoyed with kalim until book 5 showed more of his growth. i don't ship jamil and kalim but i do love both of them and it's sad that the complexity of their dynamic got watered down so much... i will note, though, that the app is rated E10+ on the google play store and 4+ on the iOS app store, so my guess is that higher-ups at disney thought the actual story wasn't kid-friendly enough.

something else to keep in mind with athena kids that i actually sort of forgot about until recently, is that they're all claimed from birth and therefore are pursued by monsters from birth :( and then also the fact that athena is a virgin goddess who just sort of gives babies to people who might not have been prepared to have one... i bet that would make things so much rougher for riddle and jamil. some other ideas i had are that if jamil's parent was a minor god, it could be nemesis (goddess of revenge) or terpsichore (muse of dance). and for kalim, if his parent was an olympian it would be either dionysus or apollo and if it was a minor god it'd be tyche (goddess of luck and fortune). like you said, there's so many different ways i could see their story going in an AU like this and they'd all be so angsty.

if you wanna see more analysis on how nico and leo fit together there's some stuff i've reblogged from others in my valdangelo tag! not all of it is necessarily romantic, i just basically use that for anything about the two of them--and a lot of the reasons why people like the ship are reasons why they'd work platonically as well. but yeah one of my biggest criticisms of HoO is how even though i like all the new characters for the most part, i feel like their relationships to each other were largely defined by romance (and i don't just mean the actual couples, but also the frank-hazel-leo love triangle for example) and a lot of potential was missed because of that!

oh yeah go for it!! feel free to use pretty much any of these ideas we've been brainstorming as basis for your own headcanons and stuff, i don't mind at all. and like i've been saying, if you did draw anything for this AU i'd love to see it. i can definitely see that about leo and nico both trying on the full uniform and then quickly deciding not to bother with it anymore lol. i imagined them both not wearing the tie because i just think nico wouldn't really want to and that leo might not even know how to tie one AFSKJGHDF. do you think leo would add any other accessories or personalization to his school uniform? also, i was thinking, i totally agree that they'd both like the ignihyde uniform, especially nico because it resembles the bulky jackets he normally likes to wear! but i wonder what nico would wear for a dorm uniform if he transferred to ramshackle... according to one of silver's voice lines at least, they canonically don't have one, so maybe he'd just wear, like, a my chemical romance shirt and call that a uniform lol. or keep his ignihyde uniform and confuse everyone.

omg, i love the thought of leo meeting ortho and being inspired to make festus because of him. he'd definitely be so fascinated by everything ortho could do. as for the clubs, i saved this excellent post about NRC's clubs for reference a while back, and since no other existing clubs were mentioned in either of the camp vargas events, i assume that that's all of them. but afaik there's nothing that says leo couldn't start a robotics club, and i'm sure there'd be people willing to join! out of the existing clubs i can totally see nico being in the board game club, i think that'd be a lot of fun for him.

#asks #anonymous

[atrophiedmetaphor]

LET'S BEGIN.

atrohpiedMetaphor: It's not even my birthday I don't know what we're doing here. atrohpiedMetaphor: Or maybe it's the birthday of this blog? Yeah let's go with that, it's cute. atrohpiedMetaphor: Thanks for coming :]

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Hello all, this is henceforth the homestuck-centric blog for @iamthe-redgiant - Follows come from there. Check out the "redcanon" page to see all of the little quirks and headcanons I generally function off of in regards to homestuck [ mostly abt the trolls. I'm obsessed w/ the trolls.] Here I shall be dumping essentially all of my homestuck oc content [ so. so many trolls ], a shitload of reblogs and otherwise rambling about the story bc I Can. A little intro of me - The Me Me - Name's Rel, but you can call me Meta [ I'll explain all that shit later hehe ] And I am simply filled w/ Autism. Gestures vaguely to the rest of this blog. Under this fancy little divider you will find a tags directory, trigger warnings list [ for posterity ], a little doodle of my homestuck splinters, and Me! I'll show up as a guardian :]. Stick around for awhile, this wayward space rock isn't going anywhere.

First: The Content Warnings

General warnings for Homestuck content apply - bullying, death, suicide, the works. Homestuck gets dark, Alternia and Trolls get darker, so if you don't wanna see it, I'll have the taglist at the bottom, or maybe reconsider following bc I am a bitch who loves horror and dark themes! [ tl;dr: content warning for death, abuse, bullying, suicide, general global oppression, gore, trauma, and generally just. the shit Trolls get up to. oh and sometimes sexual nsfw content. Rarely. just in case. ]

TRANSPHOBIA, ACEPHOBIA, QUEERPHOBIA AND RACISM OF ANY KIND WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. Terfs fuck off.

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second: the splinters

[ thanks tumblr for the shit quality ]

Going through the list: Metasprite is jus. Me. Functionally, if I doodle myself, I will be doodling myself as Metasprite, got it? Got it.

Russ Velvett is my fankid! they operate as an oc, but also sometimes can be used to represent me - for the purposes of this though, they'll be mostly an oc.

Relres Novvah and Relles Novvah are my two main trolls; Cosmically they could just sorta be Dancestors, though whoever came first is up to interpretation :] . Relres is actually a character in a story I'm fiddling with on my own, content of which will most certainly be put here - Relles as it stands doesn't really have a story, but they're gonna be featured a lot in art anyway. Relres and Relles are both Vantas mutants; though only Relles has wack shit goin on, Relres is generally pretty sane.

Recros is less me and more a representation of a life experience, so they're an honorable and beloved mention to this list.

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third: the taglist

pesterlog:: text posts

Meta's fantrolls:: my fantroll art

dialoglog:: reblogs

doodles:: art the grim road to godtier:: content warning [ trigger tags follow ] paradigm shift:: original story content Bloodloss:: original story content ^2

pedantic pondering:: specifically theory or headcanon posts

whitespace scenes:: noncanon or otherwise crack interactions between characters

ough homestuck:: posts in specific regard to the contents of homestuck itself bc i cannot fucking cope w/ this story hard enough

[ list subject to updates!]

#intro post #pesterlog #text post #pinned