#anyway happy easter i guess lmao

[soriastrider]

remembered that i'd drawn bunny ears on this file... i changed my mind on the bnuuy aspect before finishing it but the layers remain, unshaded yet comedically present

[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!)

[hasanasofficeatfreddys]

Hey guys!

As it turns out, I’m not dead! I know, crazy, right? As you probably figured I’ve been fandom hopping, but FNAF continues to hold a special place in my heart, reason why I was SO excited to hear about the movie when it was first announced!

Well, I just came back from watching it! And somehow it felt right to share my thoughts with y’all before anyone else. HAPPY HALLOWEEN BTW!!

Alright, let’s see… I wish I actually had more to say than I actually do tho, lmao :’) I’ll start off by saying that it was a real trip down memory lane. The nostalgia was STROOOONG. I loved the little Easter eggs and the cameos from YouTubers, though I really wish Markiplier would’ve been able to be in it :’) (fingers crossed he’ll be in the sequel! 🤞🏻🤞🏻). I think the story was adapted really well, but at the same time… I feel like I don’t have room to give a stronger opinion in that regard because I lost track of FNAF since Pizzería Simulator (until Security Breach), so I’m missing a BIG CHUNK of lore. What I actually remember vividly are the events from games 1 - Sister Location (I don’t even remember Pizzeria Simulator that much either, and I didn’t finish watching Security Breach), so… :’) I actually don’t know a lot about William Afton and… his relatives. But the story was cool. The whole movie was rly cool. It didn’t disappoint, but at the same time it didn’t blow my mind somehow. What DID blow my mind were the animatronics, specially knowing those were ACTUAL REAL animatronics, I ABSOLUTELY LOVED THEM 😍😍 Oh, but you know what did disappoint me? ….No Phone Guy. I know, his speech was sort of split between Mathew Lillard explaining the gig to Mike and Video Tape Lady, but I WANTED, I NEEDED, to hear Scott Cawthon’s voice saying the speech. At least in recording, idk. I ask for too much I guess 🤣 Oh and finally, THE CREDITS SONG!!! AAAAAAHHHH IM SO HAPOY FOR HIM!!! I’m so proud of him too I’ve known him since MLP so it was so cool.

Anyway I’ll stop rambling I’m tired. What did YOU guys think about the movie? Did you like it? Lemme know please!!

Thank you for reading 🫶🏻

[silencingspellsongs]

y'know what i think we all stopped talking about unnamed caller too soon. i'm not done with him just yet.

first of all, sorry to ya'll trying to call him john or whatever but wow i just hate that. live your life i guess but i'd cut out my tongue before ever calling him john lmao (personally i imagine him as a liam 🤭)

but anyways i love the theory that he's a stealth. he could also be a daemon, some of his vibes feel very similar to regulus but with maybe like a serenity daemon twist (all that talk about "i'll make you happy" and "i'll fix things") but also it would be so close to regulus that i feel like erik wouldn't want to go that route. a stealth adds a new little bit of intrigue... plus stealths are cool and sexy

and maybe it's because of the plot pushes recently and unnamed caller all swirling around in my head together but after the last update to the balance arc when elliott and aaron finally talked with the department and now we know that they're sending in a team of stealths to try and extract sunshine, i cannot stop thinking about unnamed caller as a department stealth going on that mission.

i don't want this in the way of like "oh, connection to sunshine oh man maybe he's stalking them in his audio after all the balance stuff is resolved!!" or for it to tie him in any way to the plot or anything like that. no i just want the smallest like blink and you miss it type easter egg hint of we just hear the voice of one of the department stealths during or post rescue mission in passing and it's that sort of gruff voice and i want to sit there while listening and think to myself "... is that the caller's voice?" and have no proof that it is or not. i want the mystery of it.

caller really gives off the energy of someone desperate for control that they don't have in their normal day to day life. the way he speaks to sweetie, he is demanding and insisting that they listen to him and do as he says. and nothing says no control like a cog in the magical government machine. apathetic worker, not getting the respect and recognition he feels he deserves.

it's like what we got from the recent milo audio about how the department treats its workers like sweetheart. who's to say caller hasn't reached the point where he's been beaten down, chewed up, and spit out by his thankless job and he's fighting back for control over his life by projecting it onto someone that caught his eye until it has now spiraled into an unhealthy obsession. sweetie probably just like smiled at him on the street one day and that's all it took, just a kind gesture from a stranger to a man who wanted to be noticed.

this is all just inane ramblings but idk man i just can't stop thinking about him. i want to believe that we will get more unnamed caller someday. i gotta know more about him. you can't just end an audio with a foreboding "soon" and then leave the guy as a one off. it would ruin me.

i need him. i need him so bad. like you don't even get it, i need him right now. give him to me. please.

[dudewhy3]

Hey Cris!

4, 7, 9 (the star-crossed lovers au :3), 15, 23 (Who painted the sky?)

hi Anna! thank you for the ask ♡

For the star-crossed lovers au:

4. What is the hardest to write in it?

hmmm the smut the timeline. it might sound weird, but the timeline, because i set the fic in the 1950s in a romanian village, and that period of time was a rather difficult one for my country. by the time Nothing Sweeter Than You happens, all the land would have been taken from the peasants and most villages would have been emptied. only a few survived, and barely. so i guess getting the political background right is the hardest about that fic

7. Which chapter was the most fun to write/which chapter has been the most fun so far to write?

the secret third one i haven't posted yet :3

9. How did you get inspired to write this?

it was easter 2022. i had just gone through a terrific experience and i couldn’t sleep properly. we visited relatives for easter and they had the tv open to listen to folk music. at some point, a lady appeared on the tv and started talking about easter traditions and the one where the boy gives the girl a red egg to confess his love came up and it fascinated me so much, because it was adorable? and my brain went like, oh armin would definitely do that. so i took my phone out and started writing A Perfect Love was completely entirely wrotten by midnight that day. but i didn’t post it back then, i didn’t lile it that much at the time. the idea of the star,crossed lovers stayed with me though, and i brainrotted over it for months. then i wrote Nothing Sweeter than You and decided to actually post it, since it was Armin’s birthday anyway. and people like it! and then i posted the first one on Easter this year. and now, more than a year after the idea first came to me, i'm still brainrotting over it lmao

(i'm genuinely so happy that you like that story Anna, i'm really so honoured that you read it, thank you so much for all your support ♡)

For wpts:

15. Favorite character to write for?

hitch actually. and annie

23. How many chapters do you think it will be?

i originally planned 21 but i (spoiler) i'm almost done with 18 and it looks like the story is nowhere near done. so maybe 30-35

[russianstudyblr]

Week 9 Overview

Happy Easter!!! I wish I could say I was spending my Easter doing anything other than homework and studying lol. Anyway, here’s my weekly overview post two days late. 

Gonna be honest, this week was not great. The teaching team leader decided to ramp up the amount of homework we got every day, which led to some pretty disastrous results. Talking to everyone in the class, we all agreed that we went to bed much later than we should after spending upwards of three hours doing homework every night, and didn’t get ANY good studying done because of the sheer amount of assigned work we got. I can say for myself that so far in this course, the reason I’ve been doing so well is because I always took the time to self-study vocabulary and certain grammar concepts. But this week I simply didn’t have time to, and I really struggled as a result. It just really sucked looking at all the content we were learning and knowing that I COULD learn it easily, that I WAS fully capable of understanding it and knowing it without thinking, but I simply wasn’t able to because I hadn’t been given the time to actually practice it. Pretty much the whole class convinced the team leaders to say something to our MLI (the sort of in-between person between the military and civilian sides of this school) and get the homework back to a normal level. I have no idea if anything has/will come of it, though. I really hope so. 

Successes this week: 

Survived. Lmao

I don’t know my grade yet but I think I did fairly well on my lesson 14 vocab quiz. But I know I would’ve done REALLY well had I been able to study as I normally do. 

Got some homework done ahead of time so I didn’t drown as much as I otherwise would have.

Started Duolingo again lol 

Things I need to work on: 

If things stay this way I guess I’m gonna have to work on keeping up with it all lol. 

Need to work on studying all the stuff I didn’t get to this whole week. 

Plans for the weekend (well, the weekend is already almost over, so here’s what I have already done and the few things I can still get done today):

Got ahead on a loooooot of homework for this coming week. 

Studying grammar and deconstructing sentences. 

That’s about it. Here’s hoping my teaching team leader actually listens to the class and makes Week 10 better for us again. See ya!

[taylorsimpsonbart]

Since the begining of the year, I have been mourning the loss of friendships and my old life and lovers as well. My heart has been in absolute grief and one day, i am good & another day my heart aches, i cannot breathe and I feel like my heart is burried in dry HOT sand.

I am celebrating new heights & a new home and as I celebrate that, I mourn the fact that I did not get to celebrate it with those I thought I would celebrate with.

Today in particular, i feel alone. Really alone and I am in my head. What Im thinking about is this: " am I the problem? Did I cause this fall apart ? What did I do and what went wrong for me to simply become a nothing to the ones I truly held in high regards?" & I want to genuinely know. No bullshit. I want to know what I did and where I went wrong because this is genuine heart break and I cannot fix it. You know?

On top of me grieving a friendship, I am also grieving a love story that came to an end. One that I ended and needed to end because I learned about my value. I learned what my space was in this particular person's life so I shouldn't feel bad right ? WRONG ! i guess the people pleaser in me finally realized that eh ! This is really over and I am feeling bad and feeling like shit but another part of me is litterally screaming : " GIRL YOU DID HIM A FAVOR! HE REPLACED YOU ALREADY MOVE ON YOUR LIFE IS GREAT RIGHT NOW. FOCUS ON WHO'S IN YOUR LIFE NOW !! FCK THAT !!"

Anyways,

Moral of the story, I don't know why my emotions are emotioning today but my heart hurts and I just need a hug from God & I want him to hold my heart in his hands and protect it with everything in Him because I cannot take this heartbreak and I do not know who to vent to but him and tumblr lmao because tumblr is like a personal diary of mine 😩

Okay, anyways ...happy almost easter. Happy Jesus is rising tomorrow ✌🏾

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

The Greek Passion (Bregenz, 1999): Reactions, Part I

so apparently this is getting staged at the Salzburg Festival next summer and the description on the festival’s website looked really intriguing so let’s check this out

also i’m currently lying in bed too sick to go see the hours live in hd CURSÉD FATE just kidding i might catch the encore or something lmao

this is a GOOD prelude

happy easter everyone

hahahahahahaha these dudes are just getting drunk instead of paying attention to anything 

to be fair this is a bop

hey y’all need to stop being rude to that girl on the left

ohhhhhhhhhh so they’re gonna pick a few villagers to play roles in the passion play for next year and those villagers are gonna have to live out their roles over the next year

META

“me? judas? Do Not Want”

“have you ever heard of a little thing called acting”

this music is gorg 

uh oh you made your leading tenor a christ figure

that always ends well

he doesn’t think he’s worthy but he’s trying anyway

oh honey

so apparently the priest dude is making a little on the side via a drugstore

random ass accordion waltz lmao

this chorus is COOL

oh no oh buddy

thank you katerina for being helpful

YES GIRL call him out for not helping

oh hey maybe he can help too

“oh y’all must be Sinful Sinners in order for this to have happened to you”

that’s…not how that works,

“father, christ is hungry!”

HE HAS A GOOD POINT THERE

oh no oh honey

she just fuckin DIED?!?!?!

i…don’t think she had cholera

yeah she didn’t

they just need FOOD

she’s just trying to help with what little she has :(

whoa whoa whoa you’re threatening to STRANGLE HER over a BLANKET REGIFTING

that’s…not okay

thank you manolios and kostandis for ACTUALLY being helpful

“it is god who speaks through you”

yes, because i distinctly remember god saying to feed the hungry and welcome the stranger! which is not what Certain People are doing!

thanks for giving them bread

also: once again, this music is gorg

is this guy a narrator or some shit

man’s best friend is a…donkey???

OMG IT’S NINA STEMME MY BELOVED

so guy on the bottom is trying to get guy on the top to *checks notes* demand some potentially non-existent gold from the refugees in exchange for basic necessities of survival

oh buddy no no no you are not doing what you think you are

“if one is lost all are lost”

why are you two fighting

yannakos: don’t visit katerina, manolios

manolios, five seconds later:

(first off, manolios thank you for not slut-shaming and second off, mary magdalene being a prostitute in the first place is a dubious interpretation but y’know what it works for the purposes of this story i guess)

no katerina don’t say that

you’re great

just trying to start over

somebody feels bad

awwwww he’s trying his best

also thank you for forgiving him

anyway that was a great first half

[tardis--dreams]

I finally sent my professor the request if she could be the examiner for my oral exam so now i can't wait to send the same request 2 more times or have to ask her in person because i know she never replies :)

[raitrolling]

jesus died so we could eat chocolate and dress up fictional characters in bunny outfits

[dee--eer]

I've reached chapter 1018 of Detective Conan!

Okay so, I've only been back to the fandom since a few weeks ago. I haven't read the manga since 2018 at least, but I usually have a KID relapse(?)ーalong with brief kaishin obsession, usuallyーevery few months or so. When that happen I usually just binged old fanfic/dj or only look for his chapter, so that's what I did. Well apparently this time my DC obsession decided to come back full force so I finally started to pick up the manga again lol. My country released official translation tho and that's how I usually keep up with the manga. Anyway, I purchased vol. 96 yesterday and I reached this chapter!! Since I like it a lot I'm gonna make a post about it because I need to ramble somewhere ahahah

Right away, the main reason why I like it; it's a KID chapter!! Hahahah apparently I somehow skipped this one during my KID binge and jumped straight into the one with Vermouth posing as KID, so this is a nice surprise. I'll never turn down any KID chapter 💙

Also, uh.... Conan, you really didn't try at all noawadays, huh. Well, after 20 years going unnoticed I suppose it's a given lol. That's why Sera keeps breathing down your neck lmao X'D

Next; this one panel! First time reading it I nearly choked on my drink, because that's a M3 reference, right??? Well, unless I somehow missed another manga chapter with him prancing on another tower lol. Kazuha did say rumours tho, but my country's version didn't translate the rumour part so I was a bit taken aback while searching for ENG chapter to put on this post. I crosschecked with the RAW tho and she did say 「噂」 (rumour) so I guess the ENG one is more accurate, but this kind of easter eggs still make me happy bcs I'm one of the "movie is canon" group hahah

And then this one!!!! I immediately checked with the RAW and he really said 「高校生探偵２人に」 so no doubt here!!! It's nice to have little confirmation of things like this in canon. I mean, with how Kaito operate as KID he'll obviously do reserach on everyone who stand on his way and with his intelligence, it's a given that he's gonna figure out about Conan's identity but an actual confirmation is always welcomed ;) and couple this with the fact that Conan already partly figured out KID's MO!! Ahhhh this make me so happy ❤

Still hoping that if one day Gosho continued MK he'll have Conan showing up as cameo and maybe we can see his deduction process lol it'll be fun

And then, my absolute favorite part; the Conan-KID interaction! His unimpressed stare to KID's disguise is just so hilarious ahzjjsjakak I love it so much

And we end the heist with Kaito being his usual cocky-but-a-sweetheart self 💙

And now... to the plot stuff! This is my official first meeting with this police gang. Since my return to this fandom I've seen a lot of people talk about this group and I honestly have no idea who the hell they are ajzjkakak. I obviously know Zero, since I already caught up to the fact that he's Bourbon and so I already skimmed his wiki when I first got back, and I remember Matsuda because that case was one of my favorite. I have no idea who the hell the others are tho, but now that I've finally meet them and caught up with the whole Rye-Bourbon-Scotch conflict I finally have context for all the hype ahahah XD

Also this is quite a big reveal, huh. Gosho really love make everyone related in some way or another and tbh I still don't know how to feel about that ajzjzkak but this one is more plot related so this one's good. Also since I finally started to understand the appeal of this police group, guess I'm gonna be kinda hyped for M25 after all!

[mcrmadness]

Madness draws: DÄ (Bela/Farin) COMICS

HELLLLOOOOOO I just finished my newest dä comic!!! The idea is very old, from 2012 or something but I never drew this comic because I suddenly stopped drawing until I started again a couple of years ago and decided to do this one first.

It took me ages to decide what kind of dialog I want to use, and I rewrote it several times and got new ideas until I knew what I wanted. I started the actual drawing last Saturday and over the past week I have been working on the comic on several days and today I finally finished it. I would say I have used at least... maybe 20 hours on this overall? I am not sure but I often spend 6-8 hours in a row drawing this and that happened at least 3-4 times this week. I did not count in the days when I just kept sketching the storyboards and other things to my sketchbook... anyway, here’s the comic, I hope you like it!

Make sure to click them bigger especially if on desktop, Tumblr tends to make the preview images a bit blurry. (Clicking them again to open in a new tab from there makes them to show up in the real size.)

Artist notes:

I have no idea if they are even in character. I don’t know if this makes any sense to anyone. The idea of the comic comes from my old German books. There literally was some exercise about SMS abbreviations and together with my German teacher we laughed at “widumihei” because seriously, does anyone seriously propose someone else over a text message, with an SMS abbreviation??? In my original idea it was Farin who was meant to send the text message to Bela but because now I know better about how Farin sees marriage, I felt that it’d be more logical if Bela sent the message. And I don’t know, somehow I feel that he could do a prank like that?

Also I don’t know why Farin got so angry. It just happened. They kinda started to live their own lives. Also those front-side faces are something I have drawn only maybe once or twice before + practiced them a little to my sketchbook before this comic so that’s why they look weird. I simply just don’t know how to draw them properly yet.

I own a 72 piece set of Derwent Watercolor colored pencils and it was about time I use more than just a couple of different colors. I’m actually quite happy about how many colors I eventually ended up using, there’s lots of layering and some places have 3-4 colors to them. It was actually so much fun to color this! I haven’t really done backgrounds before, apart from one comic that I don’t think I ever even posted here? But yeah, this one just needed some kind of a place and this is the room I saw in my head. Choosing the colors was also lots of fun because I had no idea of the color scheme but I just picked an object, decided how to color it and that color somehow already gave me an idea of what color I want for another object. I also bought a new ProMarker because the old one started to die before I got the panels done first and this new one somehow bled and did those random splotches here and there but that’s okay. I guess I just need to start storing them in horizontal position instead of the pen cans.

An easter egg: Sadly this is hard to see because I decided to use a different angle for the second panel (didn’t know how to draw the first idea so had to use another) but Farin’s phone stand is a tiny beach chair. Because why the heck not. And a beach chair is maybe the most difficult thing ever to figure out and draw, even with references! And oh boy did I practice. But then I didn’t even need it apart from these tiny tiny versions lmao.

[mysticalsashaxoxo]

COMMENTS AND REVIEWS

Surprise, surprise. Who wants some chocolates? 🍫

The easter eggs are slowly showing up.

There’s no better day for Daniel to reappear than this Friday. Happy Friday the 13th I guess?

Anyway, teaser for TIF’s Chapter 18: Twist of Fate will be dropped later, stay tuned. 💫🤍

PS. The way you are all cursing Daniel in this story lmao sorry irl Daniel Choi, nothing personal really.

#TheInevitableFate

For those who are asking why Hanbyeol didn’t talk to her Mother about the other Mister, well you see, Hanbyeol really loves Munyeong (we all know that) but she’s not really that transparent to her Mother. Remember, she never really told her that she was a class outcast either.

Now that you’re here, might as well tell you how I find all your tweets hilarious. Sometimes when I’m in a block I just run through the hashtag for a good laugh then by some odd miracle I’ll proceed to writing scenes.

Writing TIF is sort of like a challenge to me, I’m testing myself if I could write outside fantasy genre, which is my usual cup of tea (hence, TUD) that’s why you’ll also observe that I’m taking more breaks here than when I was writing my other story.

I write for my own benefit but knowing that there are people who are looking forward — and are very much enthusiastic — to it just make it all the more encouraging. It’s satisfying really.

Thank you for all the support, It helps my mental state a lot.

All love to the best mystical community. I’m loving it here. ✍🏻🤍

[rawrroarart]

Diakko!Odyssey AU

Most recent update: 8/28/2020 I added the comic of them meeting and also wrote a little snippet under the Diakko section

Welcome all. This post will officially be my master post of the Odyssey AU which will be updated as time moves forward so that I can link all of my related art to it. Yes I will not be posting multiple separate Updates in text posts how it’s traditionally done, but instead there will be information with each art and then a link back to this post. This is to avoid clutter since I hardly post on this blog anyway so it wouldn’t be fun having to scroll through all of my “OH ALSO THIS HAPPENS!” to get to art. Also I keep changing my mind on a lot of things in the AU so disregard information under the arts anyway as I will be posting here what is actually relevant.

Another key thing: I will be avoiding spoilers as much as possible until they are either shown in art or stated explicitly like I do in posts because I am the absolute worst at surprises. But anyway fear not for spoilers. Things said here are things that should be hinted at/known already. (and also I hardly know anything but maybe I will in due time)

Without further ado..

Introduction

What is the Odyssey AU?

The odyssey au is an alternative universe combining both Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey and Little Witch Academia into this (very random) adventuring story that takes place in ancient Greece. I guess I can’t say that it’s random since one of my favorite things about both ACO and LWA is the ties/references to mythology with the former obviously more rooted in the mythology and the latter just fun easter egg references. 

The general premise is that Diana is a misthios(mercenary) who travels with Akko, a shapeshifter, across Greece to find the answers pertaining to her origin.

The first art post: Diana and Akkoros

While living her life as a misthios, Diana searches for the answers pertaining to her origin and superhuman (described as “magical”) abilities along with Shapeshifter Atsuko, who commonly uses her powers for flight, but is not shy to switch to animals more suited for combat.

But I don’t know what Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey is?

That’s fair and understandable. Honestly my AU diverges a lot from the game so I don’t think knowledge of ACO is exactly necessary it’s just fun to understand the connections if you know them. Basically the key things you need to know from ACO as of now is: 

Kassandra (the protag) is known as the Eagle Bearer because she has an eagle that is known as the “eagle of Zeus” throughout the game. And they adventure together and Ikaros (the eagle) can hunt n kill things and See things and tbh he’s rly just a cool eagle but not a shapeshifter or anything lol

Kassandra is a Mercenary (misthios) which is basically a for Hire fighter/person who will p much do anything for money (if they want to do it) 

Kassandra is usually referred to a demi-god because of her powerful fighting abilities in which I mean yea she literally has powers and can blast people like a billion miles away (im jk but-)

Kassandra can tame animals (which ones depending on your skill level). You can tame uhh wolves, lynx, leopards, lions, bears. This is where my ‘shapeshifter’ idea began and it pretty much fit perfectly since Akko’s favorite spell is the shapeshifting one. 

Other than this, the most important things to know for this AU is just,, general mythology,, I guess? Or history? General history of mythology and how people worshipped/acted in accordance to the gods. And I’m not saying im going to be historically accurate obviously, nor even mythologically accurate (if that’s even a thing lol), I’m just here to have a good time and enjoy my gay mercenaries while talking about gods/goddesses as if I even know (thankfully I have my gf who is way more interested in mythology than me to help me)

I’ve only played like half of the Atlantis DLC after beating the game so whoopsie. I honestly really wanna replay everything now that I have this AU just so I can focus more on details and what I can yoink.

Characters

Diana

Art: 

Diana’s sketch-dump though she really needs a new one.

Diana in wheat field

Diana is the main protagonist of the story, but they pretty much both share the spotlight anyway. Her goal is to find out why she has certain powers (which I have officially decided, finally...) that aren’t exactly human. Since being a misthios was an easy way for her to travel and make drachmae, she chooses to do it while on their journey. Dammit I came up with her lore but as per the rules of this masterpost I can’t write about it until it’s out smh.. Ah I forgot that I already spilled that she is a goddess/demi-goddess (haven’t decided which yet) so yea that’s the Tea.

Described as very beautiful, there are rumors of her that state she is a pathway to Elysium (despite many people not deserving to go to Elysium). She is also known for her stoic face and a red bird that follows her around.

Diana is only found smiling with Akko and keeps buying Akko clothes despite her outer grievances each time Akko destroys something.

Diana was there with her mother at Chariot’s speech/performance.

Diana is skilled with any weapon.

Akko

Art:

Akko sketch-dump

Akko is a shapeshifter who travels with Diana across Greece in search for her idolized Chariot. Trusting both Diana’s skills and powers, Akko decides that Diana is the best choice to help achieve her goal as they adventure together.

Orphaned at a young age, Akko is, at first, very unfamiliar with how exactly to use her powers because there was no one around to teach her. She uses a bird most often because it is her first and most skilled transformation, but eventually learns to use stronger animals over time. Also eagle-vision is much more useful to Diana when they’re scoping the grounds anyway.

Like all shapeshifters, Akko has a symbol on her neck that signifies what she is. Due to the high prejudice against shapeshifters, Akko stays an animal to avoid being known, and also does not transform in front of others unless to kill them. If she has to be a human, Akko commonly wears a hood to hide her neck. 

Akko is one of the last shapeshifters to exist, and, despite Chariot being rumored to have finally been murdered, she still believes Chariot is alive. 

Akko was with her parents when they all attended Chariot’s final speech/show and here began her dream.

Akko can use a dagger if she needs to.

Side-characters

Akko’s Parents: Shapeshifters who were murdered when Akko was a young age.

Chariot: A shapeshifter who somehow had a voice and power that even normal people listened to. Akko idolizes Chariot because, despite the hate against shapeshifters, Chariot was well known and was an activist for shapeshifters despite the danger upon her head. Chariot mysteriously disappears one day for reasons unknown, and everyone but Akko assumes she was finally murdered.

Shapeshifters

Shapeshifters are defined as humans who possess the ability to transform to any animal at will. Unfortunately, because animals were seen as less than human, shapeshifters were defined as “punished by the gods” and so many decided shapeshifters needed to be removed from the world for sin. This causes a massacre of shapeshifters to the point that they are instead a rarity.

Shapeshifters do not transform with their clothes, and so either destroy them or lose them depending on their transformation.

All shapeshifters have a symbol on their neck which is what is used to find them. They can also be found by their human personalities/characteristics when they are an animal. 

If weakened, shapeshifters return to their human form and cannot transform until they are stronger.

Diakko

Art:

Meeting (Comes with a 500 word story!)

Misthios!Diana and Shapeshifter!Akko Sketch-dump

Diana and Bear!Akko

Fancy Diakko (the first continuity error lol)

Diana and Akko adventure together and do all of their quests together as a rag-tag chaotic duo. God I’m so excited for this section I wish I could make art FASTER but anyway:

They meet at about 17 years old but the main story takes place when they are 18+

The two get off to a wrong start when Diana saves Akko’s life. Because Akko is a shapeshifter, she’s high in value to kill probably by some cult idk but there is always a bounty on her head. When Diana saves her, Akko assumes Diana only did so to steal the drachmae from the original perpetrators, but Diana really just leaves her alone afterwards. Confused, Akko legit just starts tagging along LMAO she finds Diana interesting and so follows her and Diana’s just like what the fuck but eventually she gets over it. They become powerful assets to each other as Diana can now scope the skies with Akko and Akko is pretty much protected under Diana. Then when Akko gets much stronger Diana gets extra manpower and protection too. 

Akko enjoys staying in her human form to spend time with Diana.

Diana keeps buying Akko clothes just because it makes Akko happy (and also, despite Akko uncaring because her transformations are so frequent anyway, Diana doesn’t want her to be naked??)

Diana is easily persuaded by Akko and puts Akko’s interests first (feeds her first, considers what Akko would want, etc.)

[banyanas]

10, 17, 20

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Very planning-heavy. There’s a ton of spitballing with friends on the topic, but usually if I get an idea, I’ll let it marinate a bit > finish an outline (which takes the most thought because actually Plotting A Story alongside technical details) > edit outline (for things like pacing and consistency) > rough draft > editing the rough draft (pruning and rewording and occasionally adding things) > letting it sit so I forget some of it > proofreading for shit like spelling errors. I also pre-write my author’s notes (they are always long i am very sorry) and title/summary/tagging stuff. As you can probably guess, I am an extremely slow writer when it comes to words per day.

Bear in mind this is only for more involved stories- multichaps or long oneshots. I absolutely am guilty of just writing by the seat of my pants for 1k-ish oneshots and other things. Somethings u just gotta crank one of ‘em out in a night and plaster it on the internet after only editing once.

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

Ough this is a tough one. There’s always going to be information lost, whether it be in what the environment looks like or in motivations or other intent. In terms of people perceiving it differently? Honestly, one of the hardest things to balance for, say, Soul-Stricken, was “I want the readers to be able to pick up what I’m putting down, but I also want them to think” and it’s... well, I sure hope I succeeded. Especially since re-reading value was something I consciously focused on for it.

As for surprises... hmm. I like to think my motivations are pretty transparent? I’ll be the first to admit most of my tastes in tropes, both fandom-specific and in general, tend to be niche; I’m writing the ideas I love, first and foremost, and those just happen to diverge from common fanon most of the time.

There is a little bit of spite inherent in my motivations, not gonna lie, but that’s the case for every genfic writer I know, since most fandoms are extremely ship-centric (ahit is one of the blessed exceptions).

(though I am curious what readers think of my motivations now, hmmm)

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Legit there are Layers to the whole deal with Snatcher/Luka and Apolonia regarding selfishness and responsibility. Luka stayed because of his sense of duty to his clan, and his wife-to-be, and to the forest- he wasn’t selfish enough, and it hurt him. Y’all already know how that turned out. Apolonia ran from her responsibility to chase her own happiness, leaving her family and friends behind to cut all ties, and that responsibility caught up to her; she thinks all of Clan Pryce is dead except for her and her children, and she was the only surviving Clan Head available to do the duties of one for the remnants that made it to Alpine- she was too selfish, and it hurt her. (Also special mention to the crown being left behind deliberately in the cellar because Subcon is no longer attached to Omnoc- just like mother dearest wanted, except nothing like she wanted)

ANYWAYS ON LESS DEPRESSING META STUFF I enjoyed being cheeky in the in-universe excerpts and how they connected to the actual events of the stories. Special mention to the Magic Boom in Thrice-Cursed, and the one in ch1 of Soul-Stricken, because the incongruence between how other ghosts work and how Snatcher works doesn’t get solidly revealed as a plot point until chapter 4. Although there are quite a few other hints about Snatcher’s nature scattered around, you just have to look for him.

(Also Brigid Larsen exists to be a bit of a meta easter egg, as the author of quite a few of the excerpts in Thrice-Cursed- which have good guesses for what may have happened during the Fall of Subcon! But their weakness is that they make too much sense lmao)

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #308

“you don’t need treats, and you don’t need tricks, and you don’t need me.”

Middle name? Marie. Or Marie Catherine, if we're technical, but as someone who loooong left Catholicism and never even agreed with many aspects of it in the first place, I don't like to include it. If you're confused, there's a ceremony called Confirmation, and while I honestly don't even remember the details of it, you adopt the name of a saint you want to stand for, kinda. I chose Catherine just because I liked the name outta my other options. Democrat/republican/other? I classify myself as Independent because I really don't relate well enough to either, but I do know I'm becoming more and more liberal with time. Do you dress according to your mood? My mood? No. I dress with what I feel like wearing at that time, but my actual mood has nothing to do with it. Are you good at doing hair/make up? No. Are you always worried or stressed about something? 24/7, my friend. Can you swim? Yeah. Are you afraid of needles? I don't like them, but I'm not afraid of them. How many kids do you want? Zero. Long/short nails? I keep mine short. Do you like wearing hats? No. Does mall Santa Clauses or Easter bunnies freak you out? Nah, I loved seeing Santa as a kid. :') Would you consider yourself clumsy? I am RIDICULOUSLY clumsy. Do you like when a guy picks you up in his arms? In concept, but I ain't easy to pick up anymore lmao. Do you like hairless cats? I do!! Females, anyway, for... obvious reasons lol. Not having fur makes some things waaay too ~obvious~ otherwise. I would love a sphynx. Do you like the color yellow? No; it's actually one of my most disliked colors. Have you ever seen a cat have a hairball? Yeah. Have you ever had a tooth pulled? Not by a dentist, no, just by myself as a kid when I was losing my baby teeth. When someone says don’t look do you look? It depends on why they're telling me to not look. Have you ever played spin the bottle? No. If you had to name three important details about you, what would you say? I'm a very emotional person, I need a lot of "me" time, and to be aware of my social anxiety so not every interaction I have is perceived as just a dumpster fire. What are your three biggest insecurities? My creativity, my goddamn body, and my lack of social skills. If you could write anonymous letters to three people, who would you send it to and what would you say? Ummm. I can only think of people I miss and don't WANT to be anonymous... Favorite photo of yourself? A senior prom picture I don't have anymore. I looked so, so happy and fuck my low self-esteem, gorgeous. Who are you disappointed with right now? I'm like, permanently disappointed in myself lol. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now? No. My minimum is 21. What question do you hate to answer? "Are you a virgin?" because it's just a confusing answer. It doesn't sound like one at all, but trust me on this. The subject of sex just makes me uncomfortable anyway, so even if I was confident in the answer, I wouldn't want to talk about it. What’s your most listened to song? I don't have a way of actually finding that out, but I'd say I've been listening to "ULTRAnumb" by Blue Stahli quite a lot lately. If you were a performing artist, what would you title your first album? I mean, I don't know. It would depend on what was going on in my life and head at the time. If someone told you you could give one person a present and your budget was unlimited–what present would you get and for whom? A nice car for Mom. She's had the same shitty car for yeeeeeaaaaarrrrrssssss now because she just can't afford a new one; hell, this one was free. A dance friend hit a deer, so the front of the car is messed up, and she bought a new one, but because the car itself was still functional, she gave it to my mom. Mom is so loved at the studio. The car just has various issues by this point, like trouble starting, accelerating, it's bumpy, etc., so it's way past time for a new one. Do you like licorice? NOOOOOOOOOO that's a big 'ole "ew." Have you ever visited your country’s capital city? No, but I've seen it from a distance when riding up to NY. When was the last time you were outdoors for over an hour? WOW. I couldn't even try to guess. What is the shortest amount of time you’ve lived somewhere? The house I was born into. I actually don't know how long Mom and Dad lived there, but I was only in that house as a very little baby. I have zero memories of it. What’s your favorite kind of mint? (Peppermint/wintergreen/spearmint/etc.) ... There's a difference? lol I guess peppermint? What was the last thing to frustrate you? I wanted to draw yesterday, but I didn't know what to draw to even get started. Have you ever been to a bachelor or bachelorette party? No. Did any of your family members serve in WWII? I don't believe so? Well... maybe my grampa did? I don't remember. What’s your favorite kind of salad? Gimme an Olive Garden salad and I will deadass eat the whole bowl. Are you more realistic or idealistic? I'd say I'm more realistic with most things. Are you currently borrowing something from someone? No. Is anyone currently borrowing anything from you? No. What is your last name’s heritage/country of origin? Ireland. When did you last buy a new pair of shoes? What kind? I got new flipflops a year or so back because my old Rainbows were so worn out and blackened my feet. Have you ever experienced culture shock while traveling? If so, where? No. Are you able to see the stars at night where you live? I actually haven't checked since moving here. We're in the suburbs though, so it's questionable. Do you include your middle initial in your signature? Not unless it's required, usually. I think. When's the last time I physically signed anything, anyway? What brand of computer do you have? It's an Acer Nitro. What operating system does that computer run? Windows 10. What’s the oldest piece of clothing that you still own and wear? I don't really know, given how much my weight has fluctuated. Went drastically up, went down, now it's back up. .-. I still own a handful of shirts I want to "shrink back into" from late HS and early college times, but yeah, I don't know if I'll actually achieve that. Is the area in which you live flat, hilly, or mountainous? Flat as my ass. What is your significant other or best friend’s ring tone? No one on my phone has a "special" ringtone. Where do you keep your hair brush? There's a comb I use in a drawer in the bathroom. Which pair of shoes have you owned the longest? Multiple pairs of Converse, also from high school. When’s the last time you were sick at the same time as someone else? I'm very happy to say I don't even recall the last time I was sick. My immune system is the fuckin GOAT. What did you have for breakfast this morning? A pb&j. We've got very little rn, but thankfully Mom's picking up our Wal-Mart order today. Last time you were in pain? If I'm standing, you can bet my legs hurt, so. What color is your mom’s hair? It's growing back totally gray now. Is that also your hair color? Well, no, I'm only 25. Do you watch any daily vloggers on YouTube? Who? No. I watch people who vlog occasionally, but not regularly. It's gotta be people I'm very into to really be interested in vlogs. What room of your house do you usually do your surveys in? Sigh, I'm always in my bedroom. Really hoping Mom and I muster up the motivation to clean up the extra room soon to turn it into my "dayroom" or "office," if you will. What do you put on your tacos? I hate tacos. What is your favorite stuffed animal and where did you get it? I have a bittersweet connection to the adorable plush meerkat Jason gave me for Valentine's our first year together; I always slept with it when we were together by apart, and for a year or so after the breakup. It was a source of comfort for me, so I'm really fond of it. Fella's fur is so worn out and matted down with age and lots of love. He's on my dresser now, towards the front of all my plushies. Last thing you hung up on your wall? My Illidan poster, I believe. Do you have a full length mirror? Yeah, on the back of my door. Is it currently raining? No, finally. It's been raining for like a fuckin week, it seems like. It's finally a clear day. It's nice to hear birds outside. Does anyone you live with talk in their sleep? Does this happen often? I'M the one doing the talking/screaming in my sleep. Thanks, nightmares. When was the last time you cried, or felt tearful? I'm not positive, but I know I had a pretty rough PTSD night not too long ago where I teared up. Did you wake up with a song stuck in your head today? What was it? Ohhh yes; I've been listening to Mother Mother's "Ghosting" on repeat because it's jammed up there. When was the last time you used moisturiser or lotion of some kind? Not too long ago on my hands. They get dry this time of year, and besides, I wash my hands a lot nowadays especially. What was the last thing you owned, that was accidentally broken or damaged? Were you able to get it fixed? My laptop, and yes. Tell me about the last dream you recall having. Was it weird, amusing, etc. So this is pretty wild. I know I had a nightmare last night, but I don't remember it; the night before, however, I had a nightmare about a possibly rabid and ginormous rat (I mean like, smaller dog sized) in the house and trying to bite me. It was SUPER weird, because I was actually afraid of it, yet I absolutely adore rats in real life. What was the last video you watched on YouTube? I've really gotten into John Wolfe (a let's player) lately, and I'm going through his The Evil Within playthrough. Do your parents use any social media at all? My mom has a Facebook, and hilariously, Dad has a Snapchat to talk with my sister Nicole. He has no clue what he's doing with it and it's adorable, haha. Mom also has a Twitter, but she doesn't use it. Is there anyone in your life who regularly asks how your day has been? Regularly, no. I've always been that person, especially in the WoW guild I'm in. I'm very close and comfortable with them and ask how everyone's doing any time I log on. Lovely people who give me some social interaction every day. Tell me something positive about the day you've had. It's still early, but once again, it's pretty and bright outside. Why do you prefer Facebook over MySpace, because I know you do? Ha, you'd be incorrect. MySpace was more personal, so I actually preferred it. But it's obviously long-dead, so I just settle with Facebook. Have you read the Pretty Little Liars series? No. My sister looooves it, though. What product do you use to moisturize your lips? I don't remember, actually... It's in my purse somewhere. When did you start using Xanga? I never have. Be honest, do you judge people on their appearance? Judge, I don't think so. I can make assumptions like everyone else, but I'm not gonna think someone is beneath me just by their attire. Do you know anyone who does not like The Beatles? Me. At least, most songs. "Hey Jude" is good, but everyone agrees with that, haha. Did you have a friend in middle school that you’re now enemies with in high school? I'm long since out of HS. I had a middle school friend who I disconnected with following a fight in high school, but we weren't "enemies," and we reunited our senior year anyway. Aaaaand we're not friends anymore once again lmao. What is one thing you hope your children don’t inherit from you? If I hypothetically wanted kids, God knows I'd hope they wouldn't have my psychological issues. Do you think you’ll be married in 10 years? It'd be nice, anyway. What type of foundation do you wear? None. Who’s the most controlling person you know? Someone I'm no longer friends with, partially because of this. Do males look good in skinny jeans? Yep. Are you for or against guyliner? Ugggghhhhh guyliner makes me weak in the knees. How many jobs have you had? Where do you currently work? Three; nowhere. Who did you last hit? Um, nobody??? What way of self-care do you enjoy the most and what feels more like an obligation? I enjoy my alone time on the computer as the best self-care, especially after being social all day; I don't, however, enjoy the act of performing hygiene care. I still do it, it's just not fun. The feeling afterwards is great, though. Have you ever tried specific diet plans or fads? What made you do it and how did it turn out for you? I was briefly using NutriSystem, which didn't work for me. I hated too much of the food. More recently I stuck with flexible dieting and calorie counting for a while, but I drifted from it when I still lost no fucking weight in like a month. I want to get back to it, though... oh, and intermittent fasting. I don't think it really worked for me yet again, even though I did it correctly, but that and the aforementioned flexible dieting is all I feel like I can handle. I guess I just have to give it longer. Do you know anyone who has been directly affected by COVID-19 e.g. testing positive, losing a loved one, or their job due to the pandemic? Too many people I know have had it or had someone they loved die because of it. Take this shit seriously. Is there a kind of music you only prefer listening to during specific type of activities that you otherwise wouldn’t enjoy under normal circumstances (e.g. EDM while doing sports or instrumental music while studying, etc.)? No; I have to actually enjoy the music. If you had to start a YouTube channel and motivations/skills/resources/any other inhibiting factors weren’t an issue, what would it be about? Either animal (preferrably reptiles) education or let's plays, ig. Has anything ever happened to you that if you told someone about, they would think you’re making it up? I don't believe so. What travel destination or popular spot have you been to that you found overrated? What about a lesser known place that you thought was a hidden gem? I really don't know; I haven't traveled nearly enough for this.