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#Pat Fitzgerald
sportsunfolded · 1 year
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dubsism · 9 months
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The Dubsism 15 Most Important Sports Stories of 2023
As we enter a new year, once more we find ourselves having just completed what has proven to be a tumultuous twelve months.  Unfortunately like 2022, this past year had more “downs” than “ups.” But the difference is this year, the “downs” aren’t nearly as ominous (for the most part), and the “ups” offer far more hope. Having said that, here’s the 15 stories we here at Dubsism feel define the…
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ahol888 · 1 year
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Ode to former Northwestern football coach Pat Fitzgerald
To make sure that this poem is not any lamer, This one starts off with a double disclaimer. This poem is not about former federal prosecutor Pat Fitzgerald. This poem is about former Northwestern football coach Pat Fitzgerald. This poem is not about the guy that used to pull ladies back in the day at The Lodge and the Bamboo Room named Pat Fitzgerald. This poem is about former Northwestern…
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dalydose22 · 1 year
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ALAS, Pat Fitzgerald
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bossnationtalk · 1 year
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Pat Fitzgerald suspended 2 weeks in Northwestern hazing inquiry !!
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ouroborosisshe · 3 months
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The bite of 83 doesn't exactly happen in the Silver Dunes au, but something similar occurs on new years eve of 1984-1985; Michael's birthday. long story short, it lands Michael in the hospital for around three months.
Michael's little brother Sammy E. Schmidt-Afton is unable to be located after the commotion dies down, and in the following months Charlie Emily, Gabriel Reyes, and his older sister Petra 'Pat' Geistman are also reported missing. (Cassidy and Jeremy Fitzgerald did not legally exist, and those who knew him and his sibling knew that going to the authorities in the event of their disappearances would do more harm than good.)
Mike was in a medically induced coma for one week, before his condition seemed to stabilize mysteriously quickly after a visit from his father. He remained in an unresponsive vegetative state until finally seeming to fully 'wake up' in late march. The doctors hadn't really expected him to ever come out of it, with the extensive brain damage. But hey, we have to keep our Protagonist kicking somehow.
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stairnaheireann · 6 months
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#OTD in 1921 – 18–19 | Burgery Ambush | West Waterford IRA under Pax Whelan, George Lennon and George Plunkett from Dublin HQ, ambushed a convoy of Black and Tans returning to Dungarvan via the Burgery.
‘Comeragh’s Rugged Hills’ (Pat Keating)   It’s long years since I bade farewell For it is my sad fate Our land oppressed by tyrant laws I had to emigrate…   When on my pillow I recline On a foreign land to rest The thoughts of my dear native home Still throbs within my heart When silence overcomes me My dreams they seem to fill Of my dear native happy home Nigh Comeragh’s rugged…
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itsnothingbutluck · 1 year
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vertigoeffect · 1 year
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Give the book to four of your friends to read it. Get them to tell you what stuck in their minds. Write it down and you've got a picture.
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evielmostdefinitely · 10 months
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Hi!! I love your snow fics! I would love to see more of them on the tour through the districts
treat me rough |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above, more honeymoon smut :) also the title is from the song treat me rough by ella fitzgerald which just reminds me of coriolanus and reader haha.
contains: smut 18+. dom!coriolanus and sub! (kinda bratty) reader. possessive, controlling, mean/hard dom!coryo. dom/sub themes. bratting. spanking / pussy slapping (with hand). pinvsex.
“You’re pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” Coriolanus growled through gritted teeth, a firm hand on your bicep dragging you to the train’s station. 
You bit back a smile, trying to hide the giddy excitement you felt. Your devious little plan had worked. 
It had been nearly a week since your wedding, since the start of the tour from district to district. A makeshift of a honeymoon that you agreed to. Was it ideal? Not entirely, but at least you’d be together through most of it, Coryo had promised. 
He’d failed to mention his countless meetings and obligations that took up most of his time. When he’d finally return to the carriage, shoulders slumped and eyes heavy, you’d be waiting in your lingerie, obediently on your knees ready to stuff his length down your throat. He’d let you, of course, but other than a half hearted fucking- you were left unsatisfied. 
You knew he was tired. You knew he was stressed and anxious about becoming the President of Panem. But this was your honeymoon. A start to the rest of your life, and if this was any indicator of how your life would change, especially in the bedroom, you were far from interested. 
By District Four, you’d had enough. You knew better than to pick a fight with Coriolanus, it would only frustrate him and he’d be likely to ignore you out of pure spite- he’d done it before. Instead, you hatched a plan. 
At the end of each day at the Districts, you and Coriolanus would join the Mayor and his spouse for tea. You and Coryo would never drink it, of course, he was paranoid about being poisioned by the rebels, but you’d sit and discuss formalities amongst the four of you. 
The Shefland’s were hospitable, a lavish house that sat near the lake where they could oversee their working people- you knew Coriolanus was pleased. They offered you a seat in their sun room, at a small, round table where they offered up Earl Grey and finger foods. Coryo and Mayor Shefland talked rebels, Peacekeepers, and other droning business, while you and the Mayor’s spouse sat obediently. 
For now. 
You placed your hand on Coryo’s thigh, simple and unsuspecting. He looked over at you, patting your hand affectionately, joining the conversation. Your cheeks flamed with daring adrenaline, staring at the poppy seed pastry in front of you, your hand sliding slowly up Coriolanus’ fine trousers. You’d start slow, enough to have him convinced you were doing it innocently, before starting up again. His breath hitched once, a firm squeeze to your hand, shoving it down his thigh towards his knee. 
The cut of his eyes, an icy side glance, you knew you were teetering on dangerous territory, but still not where you wanted to be. Coriolanus would chastise you at most, scold you and maybe take a ruler to your palms, but that wasn’t what you wanted. 
And you always got what you wanted. 
Your hand moved, boldly, resting right on his crotch. Coriolanus’ breath hitched, faltering just for a moment, before you squeezed his length lightly through the fabric, palming his length. Coryo cleared his throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 
You frowned, brows creased in concern. “Darling, are you alright?” You hummed innocently, leaning forward, pressing further into his crotch. 
“Yes,” Coryo hissed, eyes narrowing at you. He cleared his throat, apologizing politely to the mayor, shoving your hand off his length, pressing it into your own lap with a warning squeeze to your thigh. 
You pressed your thighs together, practically squirming in your seat. It worked. Coryo was furious at your blatant brattiness, in a way you hadn’t seen since you first started dating, and it filled you with bubbling excitement. 
Coriolanus hadn’t stayed long after that, curtly thanking the Shefland’s a hand on your back, leading you towards the car. He’d contemplated yanking you over his knee right there, the driver be damned, maybe it’d embarrass you. Instead, he kept his composure until you were alone, dragging you into the private carriage of the train. 
“I should call the Academy. Tell them to refund your father, because clearly they failed to teach you any etiquette.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving you lightly into the train, latching the carriage door behind him. 
“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” You cooed innocently, nearly taunting. Coryo's fists tightened. “I thought I behaved very well for the Shefland’s-” 
“-For the Shefland’s.” Coriolanus snapped, taking a dangerous step towards you, towering over you. “But you don’t answer to the Shefland’s, you answer to me.” 
Your knees wobbled at his tone, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. His hand caught your chin easily, squeezing your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks, pulling your gaze up to him. “You know better.” Coryo growled. “You know better, and you still behaved that way.” 
You whined, his fingers curling tighter around your face. “You know how you act for me, how I expect you to behave.” Coriolanus sneered. “And you know what happens when you don’t.” The lingering threat in his tone had you throbbing painfully between your knees. 
Still, you whined in protest, wiggling to move out of his grip- defiant and bratty, just how you knew Coriolanus liked it. He loved breaking a brat, loved putting you in your place, though he’d never admit it. 
“They didn’t see, Coryo.” You huffed, a roll of your eyes that had him bristling, jaw clenched so tight he was sure his teeth might crack. “It’s our honeymoon, and you’ve been ignoring me.” You whined, a petulant pout that had his cock stirring. 
“Oh?” His tone was dangerous, teetering on amused and sinister. “That’s what this is about?” You whined, trying to wiggle out of his grip. “You acted like this because I’ve been ignoring you?” 
“I was just trying to get you excited.” You muttered, avoiding his hard gaze. “You’ve barely been with me, and-and we haven’t had sex in days and it’s our honeymoon, Coryo!” 
“Days?” Coriolanus scoffed. “We had sex this morning.” 
“Barely.” You muttered, his fingers tightening around you, jerking you towards him. 
“I’ve had enough.” Coriolanus snapped, voice booming, bouncing off the walls of the train’s carriage. You shrunk under his gaze, eyes rounded pleadingly. “You want my attention so badly, you impish little brat, then you have it.” His hand moved from your jaw, and for a moment, you were relieved- until it found its way to your hair, wrapping around your locks and tugging at the scalp. 
You whined, clawing at his wrist as he pulled you roughly towards the bed, sitting on the edge, hauling you over his knee. “Completely uncalled for, touching me like that.” Coriolanus snarled, roughly shoving the hem of your dress up over the swell of your ass. 
Your hands reached back, trying to push your dress back down. Coryo’s hands wrapped around your wrist, pinning it to the small of your back. “I should bind you.” Coryo spat bitterly, his hands squeezing around your wrist for emphasis. “Should take you out to the center of town and tie you to the whipping post. Show everyone how I handle my disobedient wife.” 
You shuddered at the thought, legs clamping together. Coryo’s brows lifted in amusement, hand smoothing over the bare skin of your ass. “You’d like that, wouldn't you? Filthy.” His hand fell heavy on your upturned ass, without a warning, a resounding clap! filling the air and leaving you breathless. 
“You will behave.” Coriolanus gritted, hand punctuating each syllable of the words with a stinging smack, satisfied at how you whined and wriggled in his grasp. “I will not have a disobedient, needy, bratty wife. Do you understand?”  
Your silence only infuriated him further, two hard spanks falling to the center of your bottom. “Do you understand?” 
“Yes, yes,” You panted, head swimming with a whirlpool of emotions- pain, pleasure, embarrassment, and blinding need. “Please, Corio.” Your hips raised, back arching low to reveal your puffy, wet lips, throbbing with need. 
Coryo’s cock was stiff, mouth watering at the sight. He longed to bury his face in your pussy, push your head into the pillows and devour you- but you didn’t earn it, not yet anyways. 
Instead, he grabbed you by your waist, letting you fall on your back into the soft duvet with a bounce, whining at the fabric brushing your inflamed skin. “Spread those legs.” Coriolanus’ eyes were dark, lust filled and dangerous. 
You parted your legs obediently, watching him carefully above you. His gaze on your pussy, tongue running over his bottom lip mindlessly. “Keep those spread or I won’t touch you at all tonight.” 
You whimpered at his threat, hands hooking under your kneecaps to spread your legs apart, on display for him. Coryo knelt between your legs, working the buttons of his shirt open until it fell open. You ogled at his toned chest, mouth filling with spit at the sight. 
“I think I need to get to the root of this issue.” Coriolanus hummed, tossing his shirt to the side. “You’ve been acting bad because of her, haven't you?” 
Your thighs squeezed, legs starting to close before he stopped you, a warning glare that had you shrinking. “What did I tell you? You don’t want me to touch you at all?” 
You shook your head. “N-No, Sir.” 
Coriolanus seemed pleased at the use of his favorite name, ego inflating at the title. He didn’t think you’d call him that so soon, so easily. Usually he had to push you a little further, until you were needy and desperate for him before you’d call him that. 
“I think I need to spank her.” Coryo’s eyes stayed on yours, kneeling between your legs. “Since she doesn’t know how to behave.”  
You whimpered, nails digging into the skin of your knees, watching him carefully. His eyes on yours, hand raising before it fell, not nearly as hard as the punishing spanks to your ass, but a stinging slap to your mound. One right after the other until he hit five, the last a particularly hard one over your clit that had your hips jolting and writhing. 
You spent the better half of the night, head lolling over the edge of the bed while Coriolanus shoved his cock down your throat, fucking your face until you gagged and cried and begged to be touched. When he finally did touch you, ass raised high, hands folded behind your back while he rode you, fucking you with a punishing vigor in front of the mirror. You drooled on the edge of the bed, whining and whimpering pitifully with every orgasm he pulled from you until he was finally spilling over your abused ass. 
The meeting with the Mayor of District Five was uncomfortable. You shifted in your seat at tea, grimacing behind tight smiles. Coriolanus bit back his own smirk, proud of his handimark that was undoubtedly the cause for your sudden obedience and clinginess. He rewarded you for being so well mannered by letting you sit on his face that night, devouring you while you rode his mouth and nose, hands gripping those golden locks you adored, your wedding ring scratching at his scalp.
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bigification · 2 months
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Corporate
John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.
He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.
Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.
But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.
Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.
John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.
One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.
He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.
He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.
He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.
"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.
"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.
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"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.
"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."
"What's your name?"
"John Fitzgerald."
The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.
A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.
"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.
The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.
"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.
"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.
"Yes, go on."
John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.
He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.
"They're too big!" John complained.
The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.
"They're still too big!" John whined.
"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.
"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.
John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.
John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.
His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.
John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.
This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.
John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.
His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.
Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.
John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.
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"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.
"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."
John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.
"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.
John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.
"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.
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Dazai Osamu is in your bed, and he demands love, protection and cuddles
Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu x GN! Reader
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Description: You really should have think twice, before giving kids "Clifford, The Big Red Dog" book and ask Dazai to look after them.
|Next part | >
Follow up
Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Fluffy.
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You can't tell, for sure, how long you have been in a shower. But, you have a feeling, that it wasn't that long. Still, somehow, Dazai not only managed to get into your room. He also managed to stole your blankets, and hide them somewhere in a house.
"How?" was the only thing that you managed to say. You know, that you were supposed to feel angry, or, at least, irritated, but, you have your curiosity, and you want to satisfy it.
Dazai, dressed in his pajamas, and who was now laying on your bed, looked into your eyes. At least, tried. Because you, in return, try not to look at him.
"I have my ways, Iris Flower. So, listen to my demands, if you want to see your blankets again!" Dazai patted the mattress near him. "I demand cuddles, love and protection! If I didn't get them, you will never see your blankets again!"
You probably could go to someone else's room and ask to spend a night with them. Then, in the morning, go with Fitzgerald and buy new blankets, then ask Oda to help you install a locker on your wardrobe, where you kept blankets. For a few hours your blankets will be secure. Then Dazai will pick up the lock and everything will start again.
Dazai reached his arms towards you. His smug grin was replaced with a pout.
"Please, My Kind Iris Flower, I was searching for a sanctuary! Please, let me stay! And give me love and cuddles! Come on~ Look at me~!"
You rubbed your temples. You need to stay focused.
"Why do you even need to a sanctuary?" asked you, looking at your chair. It was a good chair. Interesting chair. You will look at the chair. And not at Dazai.
"Well…"
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Earlier, today
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"Uncle Dazai, can you read us this book?" Sakura was holding one of the books you recommend Oda to get for his kids. Yuu, Katsumi, Kousuke, Shinji and Aya were standing behind Sakura, making their best puppy dog eyes. Dazai rolled his eyes, but took the book from Sakura. You asked him to babysit kids, and he will do his job perfectly. For you.
"Clifford, The Big Red Dog." Dazai read the title.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the bad. This idea was on his mind ever since he started reading that book. Bad idea. And a golden opportunity.
Dazai smiles, looking at kids.
"Kids, you know, that Clifford became big, because Emily Elizabeth loved him so much? Do you want to help a red chihuahua pup became as big as Clifford?"
Kids eagerly nodded, waiting for Dazai's instructions.
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"You asked kids to pamper Chuuya?!" You turned your head towards Dazai, staring at him. Big mistake.
Dazai came to you prepared. He did his best to look adorable and cuddly. He brushed his hair, and it looked extremely fluffy. His pajamas have a cute cat paw print and looked cozy and warm. He was constantly doing a puppy dog eyes, pouting a little. You could swear, that Dazai apply something, to make his eyelashes look extra thick tonight. And on his cheeks. Otherwise, you can't explain, why he has blush on his cheeks. Dazai rolled on his back, opening his arms for a hug. He stuck a tip of his tongue.
He literally made a "blep face". Is it your payment for comparing Dazai to a cat?
"I knew, that Chihuahua Nakahara won't yell at kids~ And the opportunity was rare and golden! Yet, I didn't expect kids to get busted and told Chihuahua about me!"
Dazai smiles, closing his eyes. You probably should look away and broke the "Dazai's cuteness" spell. But you can't! His hair looked too fluffy! His chest looks too comfortable to lay on! He looked squishable!
Now, you will say no to him, you will get him out of your room and make him to deal with the mess he has created!
"Comfy, [Y/N]?" asked Dazai, stopping showering you with kisses. He was laying on top of you. His body pressed tightly against yours. You were trapped. You can try to wiggle out of Dazai's grasp, but he has you pinned firmly enough down that only a burst of effort could free you. And you don't want to hurt him. Or stop cuddling.
"Mhm" mumbled you, running your fingers through his brown hair. With your second arm around his waist, you move your hand down from time to time to dance across his side.
Dazai's grin became bigger, and he returned to showering your cheeks with kisses.
"Good. I can't let my benevolent savior be unsatisfied with cuddles."
Suddenly, Dazai rolled down from you, laying on the opposite side of your bed. He, asked, looking deep into your eyes.
"Now, it's your turn. Remember, I still hold your blankets hostage!"
He lay his head down, looking at you. His eyelids were half-closed.
"Be grateful, that you are cute." You huffed, getting on top of Dazai. Now you were pinning him firmly against the mattress. Dazai's quiet laughter was your answer.
You nuzzle against his neck, leaving a trail of kisses. Dazai's laugh end in a cough. You knew without looking, that now he was blushing again. You lift your body a little, so you can put both of your hands on his tummy, while having access to his neck and face.
Your hands roam around his chest and stomach, while you planted kisses on Dazai's cheeks, temples, nose, forehead and chin. Dazai left out a soft moan, before putting his hands around you, pressing you against him. Dazai turned on his, still holding you.
You two were laying face to face. Dazai's hold on you was firm. You can feel the warmth coming from him.
Dazai pull his face into your hair.
"Heaven..." whispered him. "True bliss..."
He yawned, pressing you even closer to himself.
"Thank you, [Y/N]."
You also yawned, nuzzling against his neck.
"You are welcome. Good night, Osamu."
In the dark of the night, quiet words were your answer.
"Good night. I love you."
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padfootagain · 9 months
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Home for Christmas
Hi everyone! Here is a cute fic for Christmas! I hope all of you who celebrate have a great time <3
Hope you like this silly little fic! Tell me what you think of it!
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Pairing: Hozier x reader
Warnings: none! It’s just cute fluff!!
Summary: Andrew is touring at the moment, and his busy schedule will keep him away for the Christmas season. Or at least, that’s what you thought would happen. That was without counting on how much he missed you.
Word Count: 2390
Hozier's Masterlist - Main Masterlist
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24 December.
It’s midday and it’s raining. Against the window panes, the rain falls in a patted rhythm, adding to the soft voice of Ella Fitzgerald, a warmth that lulls you into a gentle sway. Around you, dispersed across the carpet, are a set of gifts, wrapping paper, some tape and glitter. You’re wrapping up presents for Christmas, ready to be delivered on Christmas morning throughout your relatives and friends. It makes for a rather tall pile, as you look at all the work you have left. You’re about half-way through, so you gather your courage in a sigh and get back to work, grabbing a box and some paper and trying your best at turning the whole thing into what vaguely resembles a gift.
On your left, you have set the presents that are already wrapped in red and golden paper. Three of these are for Andrew, and you’re quite proud of what you’ve found for him this year. Your gaze lingers on the items, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips as you think of him… but you end up looking away in a hurry.
He won’t be home for Christmas this year. His touring schedule won’t allow it. If he’s in Europe, he’s currently trying to catch a few hours of sleep in a hotel room in Vienna.
You’ve thought about joining him on tour for a few days, but you wanted to see your family at Christmas. Besides, the look your mother gave you when you mentioned the idea was enough to make you abandon the thought altogether. She looked too sad for you to go ahead with it. You guessed you would simply have to miss your boyfriend this year.
You aren’t angry or bitter about it, though. It comes with dating a musician. There are moments when he isn’t around, and that’s alright. He makes up for it when he comes home, or when you can join him for a few days. Still, as you glance over at his gifts, knowing that they will remain unopened until mid-January, you can’t help the tug at your heart that thought brings.
You grab your phone as an act of revenge, snapping a pic of the three gifts, and sending them to Andrew.
Your gifts are ready! And as I’m an awful girlfriend, you won’t get any clue to guess what they are until you open them in a month!
You add a few emojis to tease him some more, and wait for the phone to buzz while you go back to work. You’ve got glitter on your fingers, it’s all over the beige carpet too. You don’t mind so much, though.
Your Christmas tree is glimmering on the right side of the room, you’ve turned its lights on to get into a festive mood. You have a cocoa on the coffee table, and a bag of marshmallows as a snack. But despite the music, you can’t help but notice how silent the house is.
No humming, no guitar, no voice lost in conversation with you about the most random topic. No padding steps going back and forth across the living room, no curses after hitting the angle of a table, no clutter made in the kitchen to make something as simple as tea. There’s nothing but Ella’s singing, the rain, and the sharp sound of your scissors cutting the wrapping paper, the quick tug at tapes…
Your phone buzzes, and you drop everything to reach for it. A laughing emoji appears under the name Andy, followed by a short text.
How mean! An awful girlfriend indeed.
A pause, some little dots appearing as he writes another message.
I’m worse though.
You shake your head as you type.
Nah! You’re all good. It will only take some extra chocolate to make me forgive you, that’s all. The worst is being abandoned for gift-wrapping. I’m terrible at it.
You’re too focused on the screen to notice any sound coming from outside, like a car-door closing.
I don’t have chocolate. Opted for flowers instead. Hope that works too.
You giggle at that, failing to hear footsteps before your door.
You still have a month to get the right thing.
You jump as you hear keys unlocking the front door. Frowning, you finally stand. Andrew’s parents have a set of keys, just in case, but they’ve never used them. And why would they when you’re here?
You’ve barely reached the hallway that the door opens… on a very tall figure you recognise in an instant. You gasp at the sight, hands flying up to your mouth.
Andrew, on his part, is grinning like an idiot, soaked despite the small distance he had to cross from the cab to the front door. The rain is still heavy, falling on the bouquet of flowers he’s carrying.
He barely has time to step in, throw a travel bag across the hall, and find shelter in your home that you’re jumping into his arms, and he laughs as he catches you with ease. He hasn’t closed the door yet, the air is cold as it sips into the hallway, but you pay no attention to it. You don’t care either about the fact that your clothes are getting wet against his drenched coat, that your fingers run through wet locks as you pull him closer, that his face is cold as you kiss, at long last, for what seems like forever. But then again, you’ve been waiting to see him for weeks, months even… you can’t be blamed for being eager to catch up on lost time.
“Hey,” he breathes as you finally pull away, although he keeps you in his arms.
Rubbing his nose against yours, your eyes are still closed. His voice is a bit deeper than usual in this whispered tone, and it makes shivers travel up your spine, makes your heart melt in a puddle.
“Hi,” you grin against his lips, stealing pecks there. “What are you doing here?!”
“You didn’t think I would really miss Christmas, did you?”
“But your shows…”
“I have nothing until the 26th. I’m not staying here long, just a couple of days. But I’m home for Christmas, at least.”
You hug him as close as you can, still too much in shock to truly believe that he is here, that this is happening, that he truly is home…
“I thought you couldn’t travel back here, that the flights didn’t fit the schedule.”
“I haven’t slept in 27 hours, but aside from that, it all went well,” he laughed, but you frowned at his statement.
“You couldn’t sleep on the plane?”
He blushes a little, averts his eyes for a second, before looking at you again.
“No, no…” he shakes his head, sounding a little embarrassed but smiling all the same. “I just… I was too excited to see you. Couldn’t fall asleep.”
You coo at him, making him wince as he finally puts you down.
“Oh, don’t start…” he warns you, but you love teasing him too much for that.
“You wanted to see me too much! You’re so cute!”
“I did fly all the way across Europe to see you, remember?”
“That’s what I’m saying. You’re hooked, buddy!”
You both laugh at that, but his smile grows tender as he reaches to brush his thumb across your cheek.
“Don’t I know that already…” he states, and again, the warm feeling spreads across your entire form, a perfect balance of happiness, fondness, and love.
He finally hands you the bouquet, and you breathe in the perfect scent: sweet and addictive, making you dizzy for a moment.
“So… no chocolate,” you tease, and Andrew struggles not to laugh, his smile tugging at his lips.
“No, I’m afraid not. The flowers will have to do.”
You hum, as if pondering.
“You’re lucky they’re so pretty,” you add, and he breaks into a cheeky grin.
“Not as pretty as you, though.”
You laugh, walking to the kitchen to give your flowers a vase and some water.
“Lousy line!”
“It was a masterpiece, are you kidding? That timing! Delivery!”
“And he pretends he’s a poet…”
You both laugh, Andrew has followed you after leaving his coat, scarf and shoes by the door. He wraps his arms around your waist, unwilling to be parted from you even for a minute, chasing after your warmth like a moth to a flame.
He drops a kiss to the top of your head.
“I pretend to be a musician, not a poet.”
“Considering your lyrics, you are a poet.”
You feel him grinning into your hair.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, and you know he’s blushing without seeing his coloured cheeks.
“Thank you for the flowers, I love them.”
“Next time, I’ll get you chocolate. I promise.”
“I was just joking. You didn’t have to get me anything. I was happy enough to simply have you here.”
You turn in his arms to face him, gently pull on the collar of his green cardigan until his lips meet yours, and that’s the best feeling in the world, really, to be there in his arms, to feel his heart against your palm…
But as you look up at him again, you notice the dark traces under his eyes, the heaviness in his eyelids. He looks exhausted, and if he always does when he’s touring, he seems to be barely being able to stand. For proof, he’s leaning more and more against you as he hugs you tight.
Gently, soothingly, you rub his back, and you don’t fail to notice the sigh he lets out, his body relaxing under your hands.
“We still have a few hours before heading to your parents’ house for the evening. Want to take a nap?”
“Only if you come with me.”
“I have to finish preparing all the gifts…”
“We can do that in the morning. We can even just hand them without any wrapping…”
“No! We’re doing this properly!”
“Tomorrow then.”
You yield easily, nodding.
“Alright. You go and dry your hair while I prepare some hot chocolate, and then we cuddle and take a nap. Deal?”
He grins.
“Deal!”
He kisses you again, passionate and overwhelming and leaving you dizzily blinking; before he disappears upstairs to change out of his wet clothes and get dry.
Meanwhile, you’ve prepared some warm beverage for him and go grab your own mug in the living room. You abandon the gifts for now, climb upstairs and under the covers to wait for Andrew.
You’re grinning at the thought of him joining you, and your smile only brightens when he actually does, clumsily hurrying to the bed.
He slips under the covers, on his side of the bed, the one you’ve been staring at for entire nights, feeling the empty space of his absence. He’s barely settled in that you’re already reaching for him. He takes the hand you’re holding out, kissing your knuckles before placing it against his heart.
He takes a few sips of his warm beverage, complimenting your creation before lying down fully with you, tucking you both in, making sure you’re both fully covered by the heavy blankets. You lie there together for a long time, legs tangled to the point that borders between his body and yours disappear, on your sides so you can stare at each other, bathe in the presence of the person you love most in the world, in the warmth of this home you share, this bed that feels empty when you’re not both here.
A few minutes are all that’s needed for the bed to be filled with the warmth of your entwined bodies, and you relax as you shuffle even closer, arms wrapped around his torso. He holds you close, his large palm rubbing circles into your back that make you close your eyes. He rests his forehead against yours, closes his eyes as well.
“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he whispers, his voice quiet and soft in the gentle air of the room, the one disturbed only by your shared breaths, the tapping of the rain, and the occasional movements of your limbs under the covers. “I needed this. Needed to hold you close… you can’t imagine how much I needed this.”
You tighten your hold on him, an attempt to silently tell him that you understand, that you need him too, just as much.
“I’ve missed you too, honey,” you breath, your tone matching his. “So much. I’m so happy you’re home.”
“Only for a couple of days…”
“I don’t care. You’re here, now. That’s all I care about. I might not think the same in a couple of days when I cry my eyes out at the airport but…”
You chuckle together, and he kisses the tip of your nose as a reward.
“Same here,” he mumbles as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply your scent, the one he tries to get drunk on, to commit to memory so he can reminisce later, once he’s alone again at night in some hotel room.
“Thank you. For coming home to me. Thank you, Andy.”
But he chuckles, shaking his head ever so slightly.
“I did it for myself as much a I’ve done this for you, you know.”
“I bet everyone in the band was tired of you complaining all the time,” you laugh, and he does the same.
“Alex was this close from kicking me out of the bus.”
You double with laughter, and yet keep on holding onto each other just as tightly, unwilling to ever let go again.
“I bet he was!”
He nuzzles into your neck, kisses the skin at the base of your shoulder, making your heart skip beats and your breathing stutter. His beard tickles your skin, and you’re certain you’ve been transported to heaven.
“I love you,” you whisper into his hair, kissing every inch you can reach. You feel his grin against your neck.
“I love you, too. So much, darling.”
You forget to set up an alarm, and when you both fall asleep a few minutes later, you’re too comfortable to wake up. You arrive late at Andrew’s parents’, but they can’t pretend to be mad. They’re too happy to have their son for Christmas, and you feel the same.
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sofiart22 · 6 days
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I am no good nor evil, simply I am
Madi on tiktok //The Magnus Protocol S1ep30 (Jonathan Sims and Alexander J newall)// i'm not a good person (Pat the Bunny)//Problem Area (Last Sext by Melissa Broder)//The Magnus Protocol S1ep30 (Jonathan Sims and Alexander J newall)// A Bad Weekend in Three Parts (Clementine von Radics)//Julius Caesar (dr. by Joseph L. Mankiewicz)//The Magnus Protocol S1ep30 (Jonathan Sims and Alexander J newall)//The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
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cloudcountry · 1 year
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SUMMARY: They give you a head pat C: + some general softness because I'm realizing some of them don't even headpat you LMAO
CHARACTERS: Osamu Dazai, Doppo Kunikida, John Steinbeck, Francis Fitzgerald, Kajii Motojirou.
WARNINGS: You get shot in Kunikida's part.
COMMENTS: FIRST BSD POST PLEASE BE NICE I WILL CRY. also yes i'm kajii biased WHAT ABOUT IT!!!!!
uhh i kept most of these vague platonic/romantic wise but steinbeck's is kinda implied to be a pining situation? UM i couldnt help myself
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Dazai’s hand finds itself brushing against the top of your head as the criminal is carried away. He can tell you’re emotional for having solved such a difficult case, but you did so well. Giving your head a few gentle pats, he watches as your shoulders begin to shake. “You did well.” he murmurs as you turn and bury your face into his chest, searching desperately for comfort that Dazai isn’t quite able to give wholeheartedly.
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Kunikida is in your debt. He realizes this when you shoved him aside, quite literally taking a bullet for him. He thanks the stars above that it only grazed your arm as he quickly takes out the enemy, the fear in his veins making him even more efficient than usual. Once the threat has been eliminated, he’s by your side in a second, pulling you into his chest and resting his head on your head. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
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Steinbeck likes watching you tend to your plants. You never turn your head his way while you work, always focused. Leaning against the doorway to your room, he watches. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. There’s a soft feeling that wells up in his chest that he isn’t quite ready to explore yet, but someday. Someday. He promises himself that someday, he’ll brave the unknown for you again.
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Fitzgerald, the normally dismissive boss, was obviously at his wit's end. You furrow your brow as you gnaw on your bottom lip, a tray with a single teacup and some snacks resting like a heavy burden in your hands. Steeling yourself, you announce your name and open the door, approaching his desk with your gift in hand. Fitzgerald sighs as the tray clicks against his desk, and he must not be thinking straight because he reaches out and rubs your head affectionately.
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Kajii looks rather stumped as he stares at the giant whiteboard in his lab, a multitude of equations and fancy diagrams scribbled across the surface in bright yellow dry-erase marker. You’re seated on one of the lab tables, which is definitely a safety violation but so are his sandals. You squint as you stare at the board, honed in on a specific diagram. It doesn’t look quite right, and with how tired Kajii is (even though he rarely shows it) you figure that small error is what he’s trying to find. Once you point it out to him he jolts like he’s been shocked, and scrambles over to fix it. His voice is boisterous and full of life again, not soft like his mumbles had been. He rushes past you and pats your head absentmindedly, but it makes you feel so proud to be his assistant.
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