#bc i literally do not care i'm gone n the end

[clowncloud]

the person who unfortunately gave birth to me is literally throwing a hissy fit and being a whole bitch bc oh no my 21 yr old who is working goes to uni and who is fully capable of using public transportation on their own doesn't want me to wait back for them every evening so we can travel home together whaaaaaaaaaa

[syncast-err0r]

im absorbing saw information thru snippets of spoilers i see online (I've only seen i & ii) and all I'm thinking is wow just kill him holy shit who gives a shit he's so ????? there Cannot be 10 movies about this guy. he should've just god damn died. how long did amanda chill in the bathtub waiting for eric. what the fuck

[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!)

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warning/tags: swearing, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it y'all), use of "angel", sukuna is being sketchy, totally in love with choso, i think the choice is clear right A/N: sooooo slowly falling in love with choso, but things can't stay perfect forever right? (¬⤙¬ ) honestly I just really wanted to write more choso smut bc I'm addicted but like, wtf is up with sukuna now. ALSO someone asked how many chapters there will be, and as of right now I'm ending at 15! but if I get more ideas of the story doesn't feel wrapped up then I'll keep it going until it does.

index part eleven | part thirteen

part twelve word count : 2,146

your sleepover with Choso had not gone unnoticed by both Yuji and Sukuna. after finishing breakfast with Choso, you’d indulged in a long-awaited nap. when you woke up and found him still sound asleep, you thought it was the perfect time for a bathroom break. the only problem? Choso shared a bathroom with Sukuna. 

as you quietly closed Choso’s bedroom door with a soft click, a throat cleared, startling you like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head. you slowly turned to see Sukuna standing in his doorway, a hand on the knob, his expression unreadable. 

“you’re… still in your pajamas.” he murmured, his tone a strange blend of question and statement. 

you weren’t sure why you felt anxious; after all, he’d been mia for god knows how long. as you tried to decipher his mood, you realized you were never good at picking up on his cues. 

if you had been, you might have braced yourself for the sudden, loud slam of his fist against the wall.

“shhh!” you hissed, pressing a finger to your lips and silently hoping he hadn’t just woken Choso – let’s face it, the guy could probably sleep through anything.

“I think I might throw up.” Sukuna growled, storming toward the bathroom and slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the walls. you stood there, mouth agape, trying to process what had just happened.

fortunately, Choso remained asleep when you tiptoed back into his room. you decided it was a good idea to wait until he was awake before leaving his room again. 

after that, Sukuna had literally vanished from the house.

two days later, he still hadn’t come home. two days later, and you hadn’t slept in Choso’s room again. two days later… and you were falling in love.

Choso had thrown himself into being attentive, practically anticipating your every need. want a snack? he was off the couch before you could even think about it. feet sore from a night out with Yuji? he’d whisk your shoes off and start rubbing your feet right away. it was like he was made for this; providing you with attention and care without missing a beat. 

now, you lay on his bed while he played with your hair, one hand gently stroking your head and the other flipping through tv channels. you were practically purring with every soft caress, and he adored it. 

“can I ask you something?” Choso suddenly said, his hand still massaging your scalp. you nodded lightly, keeping your eyes closed in bliss. “you haven’t stayed in my room since that night. is it because I did something wrong?”

your eyes flew open as you sat up, your expression softening at the sight of his blush. “oh, Choso, no – you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… thought it might be weird for everyone else if I stayed in here all the time.” and secretly you worried about what would happen if Sukuna saw you leaving again.

“who cares what they think?” Choso pouted, giving you those puppy-dog eyes while his hand relaxed on the back of his head. “do you want to sleep in here?”

you hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at the invitation. “I mean… I’d love to.” you replied, a small smile creeping onto your face. “but what if you get sick of me?”

Choso shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “like I could get sick of you. unless you drool on my pillow again, then yeah I might get a lil sick of you.”

you slapped his arm while your mouth dropped open. “it was the one time! we’d just pulled an all-nighter!” he threw his head back in laughter, the sound like music to your ears. “if I promise not to drool, do you want me to stay in here tonight?” 

“tonight it is!” he said with a grin, relief evident in his face. he shifted to make space for you, and you settled in beside him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.

as you lay there, the soft hum of the tv in the background as the two of you watched netflix, you found yourself stealing glances at Choso. his brows furrowed in concentration as he watched Bridgerton (you’d gotten him hooked), and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked.

if he had noticed you staring, he didn’t show it, but when he reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers you felt a thrill shoot through you. he hadn’t moved his eyes from the tv, although you could feel his body warm at the contact with yours. you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat start to pick up.

“are you getting comfortable?” Choso asked as his hand returned to stroke your hair, lulling you into a blissful state.

“mhm.” you purred as he gave light scratches to your scalp, tracing down your back softly. “but I want to watch Anthony confess to Kate, so I’m not falling asleep just yet.”

“the tension between them has been physically unbearable to watch all season.” Choso groaned and you chuckled at his enthusiasm. when he caught you laughing at him, he pinched your shoulder in retaliation. “I’m just saying, they both have been drooling over each other every episode!”

“you can’t blame them, it can be hard to confess your feelings to someone.” when you realized your words might seem like a jab at him, you quickly continued. “at least in their situation, he’s courting her sister.”

“at least you don’t have a sister I have to get through.” Choso smirked down at you, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “even though it did take me too long to confess.”

the two of you had watched two more episodes, both commenting back and forth about the Bridgerton drama. everything felt right in your world – Choso was softly giving you affectionate touches, you’d gotten him addicted to rom-com tv, and you were blissfully happy. 

“Choso?” you whispered, nuzzling into his shirt. he hummed in response as he set his chin on top of your hair. “how soon is too soon?”

his heartbeat picked up faster under your ear. if you’d been looking at him, you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink immediately. “for what?” he asked.

it was all too easy to get him flustered, and the thrill of it drove you mad. your hand caressed his abdomen, traveling lower and lower, slowly aiming for his waistband. once your fingers danced along the edge of his sweatpants, you felt him tense.

“oh.” Choso breathed, body going rigid as you continued to dip your fingers just below the waistline. “I-I don’t think there’s such a thing as too soon.”

“hm, you don’t?” you teased lightly before lifting your chin to gaze up at him. sure enough, his face was hot and red as he stared back down at you. “do you wanna…”

“yes.” his answer came out as fast as lightning, before he grabbed your chin and pulled you up to kiss you. when his lips met yours, you immediately open your mouth to allow his tongue to spit-swap with yours. Choso groaned as your hand dipped fully underneath his pants to palm his growing erection under his boxers. 

only seconds into teasingly rubbing him and he had flipped you over to land on top of you, grinding his clothed dick into your hips as he panted into your mouth. Choso’s hands worked their way up your top, pulling your bra down to rest underneath your tits and groping at them.

“fuck, I just can’t get enough of you.” Choso groaned as he dipped his head into your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as you arched your back to meet his rolling thrusts. “wan’ t’ make you feel good.”

within a mere minute, Choso removed all of your clothing as well as your own. you’d been too embarrassed to really look at his dick the first time, worried about your own image, but now – you felt warmth pooling between your legs at the sight. his bright pink tip leaked pre-cum already as he pumped himself with one hand, prepping himself before he settled between your legs.

Choso teased your puffy lips with his head, dragging his leaky cock over your clit tantalizingly as he leaned down to capture your already open mouth in his. as he deepened the kiss, driving his tongue inside you, his dick pressed further into you while just the tip has you moaning out his name.

“oh fuck, Cho, you – you’re so big.” you whined as your eyes rolled back, expanding for him as he ventures deeper inside of you. 

just those words have Choso bottoming out with a quick thrust, his balls slapping against your ass just as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “ohhhh shit, angel.” his hips thrust again, giving you every inch. “feel s’ fucking good.”

your mind was already a puddle of mush as he drove into you, every pull and push of his cock driving you to madness. when Choso's hand flattens over your lower abdomen, pushing down slightly, you feel your walls tighten where he was pressing to accentuate every bit of his veiny length. 

Choso fingers moved to press against your clit, making small and absolutely maddening circles that made you whimper. his fingers applied more pressure, eliciting a loud moan of his name from your lips and causing your legs to clench around his hips. his pace picked up faster and faster, until he was gasping for air while he watched you blissed out below him, the sight almost sending him over the edge immediately. 

“yes – hah – please right there.” you’re drooling already, your fingers weaving through Choso’s hair as his eyes fall shut with pleasure. his bicep twitches next to your head, fist gripping the sheets as he uses every ounce of his strength to fuck you just right and rub your clit at the same time. you can feel the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter, so close to snapping. as your cunt clenches and flutters around him, Choso’s struggles to plow through your tightening walls with his thrusts. 

“that’s it, angel, just like that.” Choso babbles through the pleasure coursing within him, and when you drive your hips to meet his every thrust he just about loses it. “fuck – wait wait – slow down I’m –“

before he can finish his sentence, your orgasm rips through you, electricity thrumming down your veins. your back arches so deeply into the mattress as your pussy contracts around his cock. you’re too high to even form the words to tell him you’re coming, but based on how Choso starts rutting into you, he can feel it.

“ohh – fuck – please. you’re so fuckin’ tight I’m gonna cum.” Choso whines, eyes scrunching shut as his hips become sporadic in his attempt to find his last bit of strength to work you through your orgasm. 

you’ve barely begun to come down before he’s bottoming out, his dick pulsing before shooting your pussy full with streaks of thick cum. you can hear the lewd squelches coming from your cunt as he lazily fucks into you through his orgasm, stuffing you to the brim with every ounce of his seed.  

“shit Choso.” you moan as his forehead settles on yours, sweat slick on both of them. you panted as you looked at him, his eyes fucked out as he settled slowly from his release. 

“wanna hear something really stupid?” Choso whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“wh-what?” you stammered, your heart racing.

he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m beginning to think I’m addicted to you.” he confessed, a shy smile spreading across his face.

you felt a flutter in your chest, caught off guard. “addicted?” you echoed, a mix of surprise and amusement flooding through you.

“yeah.” he said, his voice low and raspy. “I can’t help it. you’re just… so fucking perfect.” his fingers brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

“so, you’re not going to get sick of me then?” you teased, and Choso swore that as your laughter followed he could feel your pussy walls flutter around his softening cock. 

“don’t get cocky just yet, angel.” Choso hummed in amusement before dipping his fingers between your bodies. “that’s still yet to be seen.”

as you were giggling, your breath suddenly hitched when Choso fingers pinched your sensitive clit. your eyes sparked as you looked at him, a wicked smirk spread across his lips when he began to rub circles around the nub. with one more pinch, he leaned his face down to whisper in your ear.

“might just have to keep testing it.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlll @iseeyouuu @makingtimemine @spicykimchii I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo that fact that nineteen people have asked to be tagged for this makes me sob tears of thanks .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[holllandtrash]

i just saw the new pictures of lando in monaco and i’m curious as to how 6 to 1 y/n would react to him growing out his facial hair 🙊

listen

i would love to write a cute little drabble on this, but the thing is i fucking hate the facial hair because it reminds me so much of my ex's. i can't even pretend to like it for the sake of the plot.

i think y/n would be so confused and wouldn't even notice it at first bc growing it out is a gradual thing its not as though he just woke up with the facial hair. but then it becomes impossible to ignore and you haven't seen his razer laying out on the bathroom counter for a few weeks now (and hes usually pretty bad when it comes to leaving his stuff out in the bathroom - he's good everywhere else but the bathroom he just seems to leave a trail)

so like you call him out on it obviously and by that you straddle his lap while hes in the middle of watching something and take his face in your hands, tilting his chin up to confirm that he had not been shaving and probably hadn't shaved in a hot minute

"is this permanent?" you ask

"well it's not going anywhere any time soon," Lando laughs and just pulls his face out of your grasp. He turned to the screen, but then when he notices your discontent he turns back, "you don't like it?"

"i don't love it."

"you hate it."

"you're putting words in my mouth."

"no, i'm reading your mind because I know you," lando laughed again, bringing his fingers up to his chin. You grimaced at the sound of him scratching the hair. "You hate it."

"I don't like it," you clarified. hate was a strong word. You would hate it if was permanent.

Lando wasn't hurt, he did care about your opinions, but he was a little surprised it took you this long to notice he was trying something new.

if he was being honest, he knew he wasn't going to last forever. it was just something he wanted to try because he hadn't actually tried growing out his facial hair before.

"It's not permanent," he assured you and you let out a literal sigh of relief until he added. "It'll be gone before the end of the season."

which was still very far away.

"look i'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do with your hair," you started, swinging your legs off of him to stand up. "but-"

"-but you hate it, yes i know, i will take that into consideration my love," Lando laughed, his hand reaching for yours and giving your fingers a squeeze before you walked off. you glanced over your shoulder and caught one more glimpse of him scratching the grown out stubble.

and were you surprised when, the next week, you woke up to the sound of lando shaving?

no, not at all

[starheirxero]

[rez]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway

Hope Castor can help Lunar.

Or atleast point him in the right direction.

I think Lunar is finally facing himself really.

And I understand wanting him out of the house but like- why are they surprised he ran away?

Thats like what Lunar does? He ran for months after he died, him running away is par for the course. And he was gone for three days because he was in jail? They didn't even accept that, they just got mad at him for running. As if Monty hadn't actually decided he was gonna kill Lulu.

Like Lunar would probably be dead if he'd stayed, or atleast injured.

'We do still love you and youre still our little brother'

-They say as they irepibly damage any and all trust Lunar had in them at the moment and in the future.

Moon I understand you want him to actually face consequences but there's no going back from this!

Lunar will never trust you, or anyone else in this family, again.

Castor pleasepleaseplease be the one who finds him.

Ohhh how I want to see more Pollux and Castor interactions bc as I said in another ask that idk if you received Cas almost seems to be avoiding talking to her specifically about Lulu.

That or Lunar gets kidnapped again.

More specifically by the creator so gem (or even just Cas) have to save him

But with Gemini separate there's also the possibility rez or someone else targets one of the twins while the other is away so thatd be neat.

ALL OF THIS NODNODNOD!!!!!!

I think Castor choosing to help Lunar while Pollux doesn't would be really interesting from a Gemini perspective. They're the twins, they make up one astral, one constellation together. If they truly become divided over this, I would be deeply fascinated to see where it goes from there since we got so used to seeing them as Gemini—a collective entity—rather than themselves.

And YEAH LIKE. Listen. I know that to the family, because they don't actually have the full picture, it looks like Lunar is just a loose canon that attacked Earth in a fit and then dipped. But also LUNAR TRIED TO EXPLAIN THAT THEY WERE IN LITERALLY INCAPABLE OF RETURNING SOONER BC THEY WERE JAILED AND THEN REZ PUT THEM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLOBE. AND MOON JUST WENT "I DON'T CARE." LIKE CMON 😭 "why were you gone for 3 days" "i was jailed and then left in russia" "whatever i dont care" MOON WHEN I GET YOU.......

THE "I LOVE YOUS" BETWEEN IT ALL YEAH.

I'm sorry but no amount of "you are family and we love you" is going to lessen the blow of "you have basically been squatting in my house (that i invited you into and you've been paying rent for) and you're a danger to this entire family so I want you to never speak or get near any of us until you sort yourself out." ESPECIALLY WHEN MOON SAID "YOU'RE LUCKY I EVEN STILL CONSIDER YOU FAMILY" LIKE I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S WILD. Again, I understand Moon in this situation. That does not mean I don't think he wasn't insanely rude LMAO 😭

Exactly like you said, Moon cannot undo this. Lunar has always looked up to old Moon and so I cannot imagine how much more it hurts coming from him. I honestly can't imagine a clear future where Lunar is going to feel safe amongst their own family again, knowing that they all viewed them as dangerous enough to be kicked out. Honestly, I'm half expecting this to end up as "Lunar lives independently and then realizes they actually feel better not living around their family and that they were kinda awful for them on accident" HDKSHDJS

YEA MORE CASTOR N POLLUX INTERACTIONS WOULD BE GREAT...... Yesyes I have received ur other ask and I'm actually gunna answer it after this one but GHOD yeah. Seeing them disagree abt smth is so interesting and I need more of it....... If one twin is hurt tho,,,,,,, ouhg. The Angst........

[too-many-rooks]

I LOVE werewolf river omg

I AGREE I'm always such a sucker for any kind of supernatural creature AU and I think werewolfism just suits him so well.

It's the need to be a part of something, the need to be told he's a good boy, that he's helpful and useful. Being too loyal and trusting to the people he cares about, or respects, or defers to as an authority, and getting fucked over by them, bc his loyalty is never returned. How Frank and his pack(/cult) could come into his life and it's like this missing piece, finally understanding exactly why he's felt so lonely his whole life, and how tempting any kind of offer of family would be.

How much he loves fucking running all the time, how he can take a beating and shake it off fairly quickly, how good he is at the hunt, at tracking people down and following them without them recognising he's there.

Anyway I started rambling a bit too much about the many fun werewolf River ideas developed with @countessrivers that we’ve been batting back and forth in the tags, but decided to add a bit more detail and contained it under the cut where I elaborated a bit (a lot) more

One evolving thread of an idea is one where River gets stuck in werewolf form at the end of S3 after he gets exploded/nearly killed. Transforming and flipping out a bit and eating a bunch of Chieftain guys (and maybe Nick Duffy also.) Louisa chasing after him to explain to Shirley and Marcus that the massive wolf currently munching on Head Dog's liver is River, and please don't shoot him, but also - considering how he unbothered he was by Chieftain's bullets, probably won't do much but annoy him.

River snapping out of his bloodthirsty rampage once the smoke has cleared and the immediate threat is gone, but having some difficulties when it comes to 'okay, now be a human again' (The idea being this is perhaps the first time he's transformed not during a full moon.) Kind of switching into silly puppy mode, not at full human brain capacity, not particularly bothered by anything - he's had a hunt, and a meal, and now some of his pack is here! Great! Maybe him and Shirley play fetch, have a little play fight, I think that would be cute.

Louisa sending Shirley and Marcus off to publish the file, her sneaking River out and into her apartment. River going through the indignity and betrayal of being showered and just a Sad Wet Wolf in the bathtub, but Louisa refusing to let him near her furniture/floor when he's so gross and still covered in blood and gore and whatever was on the floor at that facility. The heartbreak continuing when Louisa won't let him sleep at the end of her bed. Louisa pointing out that he didn't exactly bring his clothes with him when he turned into a giant fucking wolf, so when he wakes up tomorrow morning - hopefully back to normal - she doesn't exactly want her colleague/just about friend naked on her bed! (River presumably sneaking on/being let on anyway, the puppy dog eyes have got to be killer)

And then the next day coming; and River's still a big stupid werewolf. Louisa and River ending up at (a not dead) Spider’s apartment, who may or may not know about his lycanthropy already, but knows it’s River pretty quickly either way. River busy terrorising Spider’s wardrobe by ripping up all his ties and gnawing on his shoes, but eventually Louisa needing to leave. River and Spider engaging in their standard pettiness and humiliation rituals around stuff like Spider trying to make him eat dog food/from a dog bowl, trying to make him wear a collar bc they need to go into public and River’s a literal giant wolf so he needs one for his doggy disguise so people don’t start screaming on the tube. (And obviously, the many ways River might be collared by all these various people and all the fun uses for/implications of it)

Spider needing to go to the Park, and having to take River with him/not trusting him alone in his apartment. Not resisting the opportunity to make fun of how the only way River’s allowed back in now is as an office pet, (someone overhearing and realising he’s named his dog after his work frenemy/rival he has always had a… weird kind of obsession with and just like. Okay then.)

Spider getting intercepted by Diana who sends him to do something for her, but not letting him take his dog with him, that would be deeply unprofessional- no, she’ll look after it, presuming it’s house trained.

Diana thinking how she’d quite like to have some additional back-up in a meeting she’s got later that day with Whelan/Judd, whoever might benefit from being growled at by a big scary dog, sending him to the fancy dog groomers to get a blow out to make him look all dignified and fancy to act as her particularly intimidating accessory.

River not, *not* enjoying being a guard wolf for Taverner and having her scritch his ears and tell him he’s a good boy. Her taking him back to her place, cottoning on to who exactly he is eventually, bc, she’s a smart lady, and maybe he can get away with responding to ‘River’ but also responding to ‘Cartwright’ being pretty much a dead give away.

Diana thinking about how River could be useful to her now, could be a solid asset, especially if she’s seen footage/evidence of what he did at the facility wanting a loyal dog of her own after everything with Duffy, and now Flyte (and perhaps the ‘dogs’ being a very literal name and them being werewolves too, who rejected River bc he doesn’t smell right bc he technically belongs to a different pack, also a potential thought.)

River finally turning back in Diana’s apartment, feeling extremely awkward being naked and in her home, fashioning some kind of toga from a blanket to protect his dignity/not flash his boss.

Diana not really caring, instead giving him her pitch/job offer, and it’s to work for *her* directly, to cover her back, to protect her, even when that means protecting her from the service/Lamb. Potentially playing into any latent mummy issues/general need for the approval of authority figures in his life to push him along. It not being how he thought he would/wanted to go back to the Park, but it being an opportunity he can’t really turn down.

And then, how his connection with Frank would be different, him presumably being a werewolf in the first place bc he inherited it from his dad. And how River, who I’m imagining having been a lone wolf his whole life, potentially never even meeting other werewolves, so Frank coming into his life and it being kind of this revelation, and he’s fascinated by him, and all that he could teach him, and the idea that he sort of knows River better than he knows himself worming it’s way into his brain.

And, if it’s carrying on that earlier plot line I laid out, Frank getting involved as River is coming back under Diana’s sway, and moving back toward the Park in the space between seasons 3 and 4, Diana needing someone to train her new pet werewolf, Frank hearing about that through the grapevine and assuming MI5’s untrained pup is probably his boy, and wanting to check in.

Frank being presented as like ‘the werewolf specialist’ here to solve all their problems, but saying he needs to take River out of London to be able to train him properly. And, don’t worry, he’ll totally give him back. (Maybe he will, maybe it’s more of a split custody/River getting the Mi5 jobs, but very definitively belonging to Frank/being part of his pack/cult.)

So River slotting into life at Les Arbes, and finding out about Frank being his dad and meeting his half-brother(s) and becoming a part of a pack for the first time in his life, and feeling like part of a big family, and like - having friends his age, and them perhaps being playfully and physical affectionate, scrapping and play fighting and cuddling in a way that River’s always craved but never really had access to, bc it’s just like, basic werewolf socialisation.

And obviously, you know, there being, a kind of unsettling vibe - it’s clear that they’re some sort of off-the-books paramilitary werewolf squad, but perhaps the super intense cult stuff is turned down a bit when not in a time of crisis, and for River’s sake, and perhaps it’s not as necessary in an a werewolf AU where there’s more pack ties to each other and submission and obedience toward the pack Alpha is kind of innately ingrained.

But how River could sort of… accept all of that, the part of him that is desperate for action, and craves fieldwork - getting that at Les Arbres, even if it’s more shady than the career he had planned. And perhaps being able to dismiss any kind of strange cult-y interactions as being a part of like, werewolf culture that he knows nothing about, (like he can shrug off all the weird kissing in the book as werewolf socialising, bc wolfs lick each others mouths as a greeting,) and wanting to integrate so much he doesn’t want to question it all. (And then uh. How different social conventions/rules/relationships are. For freaky horny reasons. And just, much potential there. Sorry not sorry.)

Anyway that’s sort of one thread of an idea that has many spin-off and tangent and adjacent ‘what if’ ideas, some of which involve a lot of fun vampire stuff which I won’t share for risk of spoiling a potential upcoming fic I’m very excited for 👀

But yeah, long story short anon, same.

[tomatoswup]

i had this silly idea i told my friend about what if the Trigun Stampede gang run in to a runaway teen reader and then the reader’s part of the gang. The reader’s in their rebellious phase of course and kinda argues with Wolfwood a lot. Can you write headcanons for this please? (°▽°)

Runaway!

A/N: i’M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE IT WAS A REALLY HECTIC MONTH😭😭😭😭 honestly, this was really fun to write heheheh,,, i can kinda see reader being a pain in the ass but with good intentions….maybe… But god i can imagine how crazy the stampede crew would be if they had a teen,,, i love it😌☝️☝️☝️ Hope you enjoy!!!(*´∇｀*)

warnings/tags: none!

Well aren't you a little anomaly in the bad deserts!

When you first encounter the gang, it wasn't a very...proud encounter.

To be exact, trying to steal Vash's gun in the middle of a busy bar was a very brave choice knowing that the Humanoid Typhoon was trying to eat spaghetti, and in the flesh!

Bold dare I say but, besides that, you were getting hunted by a group of thugs that had been going through town and uh, you sure did cause a bit of trouble.

And by trouble I mean you stole their car keys and went out for a joy ride.

Yup, crashed that shit rightttt into a boulder.

And of course Vash, who's a bit too kind for his own good at times, wanted to help someone so young to Wolfwood's disbelief. Meryl and Roberto? They've witnessed what he did for Jenora Rock so they kinda expected it.

After that first meeting, you naturally stuck to the wacky group and often times when needed, you tried to help them in exchange for saving your life.

Of course with payment :D It's a hard world for a runaway teen out here!

Don't worry you don't make them pay...sometimes...

Young and free they say hahaha!!...Yeah you had literally no more bullet to spare so time to get workin~

You often had Wolfwood reminisce his times back at the orphanage. He's lived there for so long and he's dealt with kids of many ages, but goddamn did you give this man a mf headache.

Sorry, correction, a migraine.

I damn right knowww he goes through twice the number of cigarette packs when you're around.

"Alright kid, no more grabbing shit or starting fights. Zip your mouth if you're gonna be tagging along-"

"Do you really think I'm gonna listen to a priest?"

"UNDERTAKER!"

"Same thing"

"No it's not!"

You glanced at Meryl for more input.

"...Okay I can see where they're coming from-"

"MERYL SERIOUSLY?!"

You got Wolfwood this close to Homer Simpson choking you out.

Sometimes Vash can't help but watch the both of you headbutt eachother.

He's the type of person to try and stop the fight and maintain the peace but bestie, when you're against a rebelling teenager anything is possible.

He understands tho bc he's also gone through his little phase, that's how he got his little earring :D

But asides from that, when he tries to stop ya'll you guys just ignore him lmAOOO

They say teens are rebellious while trying to find others who they can relate to or have a connection with and well, although you didn't really have a permanent home anymore like you use to, you slowly found yourself getting fond of this little wacky group.

And at some point while you guys got closer, Wolfwood tended to look after you a little more.

Was it because of his past? Or were you just a kid who needed the right guidance forward?

Either way, he tries his best to give you good advice,,, advice to keep you alive.

A practical guardian you could say,, Or kinda like an uncle?

And you know what, you don't mind it.

"Did your sticky little hands grab another fucking wallet? Seriously?"

'No I did not!" You narrowed your eyes at him "It's a map get it right. I also only steal from the rick-looking men Wolfwood cmon now-"

You ended up getting a bonk on the head from him, which led you to looking at Roberto, who downed another drink.

"What are you looking at me for?"

WHATCHU MEAN MY BOY ARE YOU REALLY NOT GONNA-

He really doesn't care lMAAOOO Most unphased man alive.

As long as no one dies!

And maybe after all of this time, even after those two years after what happened to July you guys will reunite again :)

You still a lil' shit tho

"does anyone have gum?"

"I haven't seen you in two years and you're asking me this?"

"...It was just a question..."

FUN TIMESSSSSS~

extra:

-you would wHIP THE NEWS AGENCY CAR ON A GOOD MORNING

-Meryl gets tired one night driving?

-"I'll drive for you!"

-Everyone regrets letting you touch that wheel.

-That poor car looks like if you were shaking a bag of skittles when you drive full speed over those sandy hills.

-You got Meryl thanking to god she put her seatbelt on

-Vash holding onto the back of the driver's seat for his life,, I think his nails left cuts in the seat itself jeez!

-Roberto's holding a hand out against your chest so you don't FLY out of your seat when you guys go airborne.

-And Wolfwood honestly wished the sandworms from earlier had eaten him.

-fuc- DID HIS PUNISHER JUST UNHOOK FROM THE ROOF-

-"STOP THE CAR STOP THE CAR!!"

[uraniumnm333]

anyways. comin at ya w the card aus. because jester tsukasa and normal tsukasa could have such a fucking "this is a side of me i have actively repressed we are so different but at the same time similar" kinda vibe (omori fans + jekyll and hyde fans... side eye) I imagine jesterkasa to be more playful teasing and also an asshole because. that's just what characters with clown motifs DO it's their whole fucking vibe. and tsukasa's upset that this is literally him.

they keep him in the wonderlands sekai obv. and he fuckin loves it there. someone will come talk to him and half the time he's like "this circus tent FUCKS i mean this is LITERAL FIRE" and then he'll talk your fuckin g ear off until you leave. tsukasa hates him but everyone else likes to just sit and hear him talk. even nene who's really only doing it to get on tsukasa's nerves at this point.

and eventually the two of them are kinda just hangin out bc quote "even though i hate him IT IS MY DUTY TO TAKE CARE OF CLOWN ME" and tsukasa no2 is like "are you happy"

and tsukasa is FLABBERGASTED bc that is SUCH an open-ended question. and he's kinda sittin there n whatnot. hits em w the "IM A STAR IM ALWAYS HAPPY ^^ :D :D :D" and for like the tiniest sliver of a second there's the most stoic face on jesterkasa like,, he looks almost sad for a moment. and then it's gone and he's like "NOT FOR LONG HEEHEEHOOHOO" and pies him in the face effectively ruining everything. either rui or nene would end up finding out ab this and tell each other + emu. i'm sure smth else happens ill think more about this later. will post more card aus tho bc i have some Ideas specifically for mafuyu and wxs

[lakesbian]

Dearest Aisha, I hope this letter finds you well on this horrible sunny day. I’m leaving you this message because my heart is twisted in twain, and you must know that it’s not you, it’s me. What we had was wonderful, but alas, my future in the Bay is either woefully short or non-existent and as such I must bid you adieu. Or in plain English, I’m leaving because this whole plan Glory and Taylor cooked up isn’t my thing and would just put a target on my back. Maybe things would’ve been different if we weren’t pulling up the curtain, but oh well. Try not to be too upset about it. I left the playstation behind, and feel free to save over my old files. Say bye to the others for me, just don’t be too mushy about it. -Alec.

JESUS. WHY DO PEOPLE THINK HE TALKS LIKE THIS. alec wouldnt say bid you adieu if you paid him. or Twain. or Dearest Aisha. oh my god hed gag before saying dearest aisha. hang on we need a full count off of the sins here

the base premise that he didn't discuss his feelings about victoria and taylor's plan with aisha beforehand is absurd--they're extremely communicative with each other

the base premise that taylor would go along with anything victoria cop dallon said in the first place is insane and makes me want to see the person op thinks victoria is killed badly by bugs

the base premise that Aisha is fine with victoria cop dallon's plans instead of going "alec isnt this fucking sucks." is insane.

the base premise that alec is the only undersider not okay with victoria cop dallon's plans is also insane. I'm going to be real with you they would kill her immediately and without hesitation for alec and they dont even like him that much.

again, it's absurd to act as if aisha and alec are noncommunicative enough that he would drop this on her as opposed to telling her he was considering leaving off the bat. also i think she has enough wrong with her that she would want to go with him. but i digress, that's besides the point because

alec would not want to leave without aisha in the first place. people latch on so hard to him casually suggesting leaving the undersiders in that one early chapter but like. he's doing that bc it's in the context of a hypothetical scenario where his dad is getting after him. he always unequivocally backs them & follows their lead when they get into Shit That Is Not About Him--he's just both not wanting 2 burden the undersiders w/ having 2 deal w/ his dad + assuming that they wouldn't necessarily Want to help. once they say they would help he's like. oh ok. and this is certainly the last time he ever even considers leaving. those are the only ppl he has he's not walking his ass out of there. he Thinks he doesn't care but in any situation where he's at risk of exiting or losing one of them he leans HARD into backing them up. e.g. knocking himself unconscious to help brian sacrificing himself for aisha suggesting leaving town As A Team when the s9 is there and explicitly mentioning stopping to pick up rachel first. his actions demonstrate how he feels even if he isnt consciously aware of it. this entire situation is cartoonishly implausible but even if it did happen he would just not react this way

anyway the fic literally just ends like this.

A/N: And so the curtain rises. Or sets? Maybe it’s an interlude? Or a intermission? I didn’t really think this metaphor through. Writing Alec is hard, but I’m hoping I managed well here. No, this is not an elaborate rug pull or “oh he shows up later”. Alec is gone. He doesn’t show up for the rest of the story. And the reasoning for that should be laid out pretty clearly here. Maybe in another world, where Tori and Taylor resolved the communication issue before this point, they could’ve had that conversation. But they didn’t and he didn’t. So the only way out was out. Alec was never going to be willing to unmask. And with that knowledge, what happened last chapter should be a lot clearer. Today’s rec is an essay on Alec’s Costume by ewingstan on Tumblr, which does an excellent job breaking down his character in terms of psychology and code switching between his cape self and who he is regularly. Or rather, how there’s not much difference at all. I’ll see you all next week.

YOU DID NOT MANAGE WELL. HOW ARE YOU READING AND LINKING GOOD ALEC POSTS (albeit ones i had a bit 2 expand on but like. Its a good post it stands on its own.) but not internalizing Any Of Them. my god. this is so funny. there he goes fucking off into the sunset leaving literally his entire life behind because op understands nothing about him. resti n peace boy. ok thus concludes my Complaining. i'd apologize but its my blog and i can do what i want forever

[camellcat]

scrambled thoughts about s4 bc I'm losing my goddamned MIND

just finished s4 of Doctor Who. quick question: how the hell do you go on without Rose Tyler? I can't even imagine I literally. what.

like once s3 rolled around I really fuckin realized I was apparently very much watching this show for ROSE and her dynamic with the Doctor, not the Doctor himself or whatever else lmaoo

ONLY Rose has made me bawl my eyes out, let alone even tear up at all. I just can't even fathom being able to connect with any other plot or character like I did with her and her love for the Doctor.

I just ohh for all of s3 most of s4 I just missed her so much??? like Martha and Donna are great (well, I didn't like Martha at first and you can definitely guess why based on all of this but once s4 rolled around she was great!! loved her) but oh my god they were just no Rose Tyler.

plus WOW I really got so attached to her relationships with other people?? like Donna and Martha's families n whatnot made me feel NOTHING whereas I could not get enough of Jackie and adored Mickey (Mickey is family. he is. I don't care if he's her ex or whatever. he's part of the family). Captain Jack Harkness my one true love (btw just sayin I really think Rose and the Doctor should've gotten a hello kiss. maybe not the Doctor he did not deserve one for leaving Jack but Rose did!! hello!!! you gave them "I'm going to go die" kisses give them "hello we're all still alive missed you" kisses!!!). idk if maybe I was just so clocked out of s3-4 that I missed something but I swear those two just had like no really compelling personal relationships outside of the Doctor, and maybe like one specific family member (lookin at you, gramps).

the fact that Rose ended up liking Martha and Donna though??? dfindsnjdj dying dying DYING I love that she would've been friends with them both. they deserved to all sit and gossip about the Doctor like she did with Sarah Jane right in front of his face.

also oh my god no one why why why please PLEASE I'm not used to consuming sad media I try and avoid it as much as possible and this show is just. just. oh my god.

Rose is so close to what she truly wanted. she'll have a life with the Doctor, but not her Doctor and not the life she fought so hard to get back. instead she's still still still stuck in Pete's World, unable to travel across time and space and save the universe with her Doctor (and don't get me wrong, I love the idea of Tentoo, but it just rubs me the wrong way no matter how I try and look at it. it feels like when a character's memories are erased. they're still technically themselves, but something important is missing all the same. and that thing missing is the TARDIS in this case Tentoo is the best thing she could've gotten lol). I feel like I can't even adequately put it into words why her ending makes me as upset as it does I just hope you Get It. I don't think it would've been good for her to not have ANY other solid relationships like she would've had if she'd gone with the Doctor but also oh my god. oh my god.

and the Doctor is once again without his brilliant, fantastic Rose.

I really hope she doesn't come back though unless it's on her own terms, because she missed her friends or smth. I really hope she's able to travel the world and it be enough for her as long as she's got Tentoo by her side. I really, really hope she's happy and fully in love with Tentoo and they are living the BEST life they can.

Fuck. this SHOW.

[aettuddae]

SERING KISS!!! guys admit it, SERING 🗣🔛🔝‼️

alexa play how sweet by nwjns please

im literally screaming (in my head bc it's almost 2am) and kicking my feet in bed rn. ive been waiting for this moment for yearsss. my ship 🥺❤

idk much abt dogs but serim gives me silly black cat vibes, ik ppl see black cats as serious and quiet but some just act like burnt orange cats. and they're just so silly n cute. ningning is def calico, a little silly and orange but also serious when she has to be. I love her sm. also the crying cat pic w its paw in its mouth :3 hehe

as much as I love jimin, toxic yuri, and angst i need jimin to stay away from serim bc she hurts her so much, T^T just let her be happy bro or stop sending mixed ass signals and fix ur shit first.

sorry for the inactivity, ive been mourning the fact that it could have been me watching her live in hk for the concert for the last couple of weeks. my mom and bro went to china and hk to visit family recently I only said no to going bc I can't stand my brother. I should have gone T^T ningning looked so good, I could have def ignored my bro for what, a month? (that's a lie, we can barely sit together for dinner without arguing) I COULD HAVE SEEN NING SAY SMTH IN CANTO!!! smth abt pretty girls that speak the same language has me so weak(mando and canto r similar enough,,,)

haiii, hru btw? hope ur day has been as nice as mine ever since reading the new update :3 hope u have a great day/night and that both sides of ur pillows r nice n cool!!!<3 also sorry for always writing so much. I can't stop yapping

- ur friendly neighbourhood 🦈

i wrote it for those like you who deserved to live sering to the fullest ✊🏼

she could be a silly black cat, i guess. at the end, how jimin perceives her is up to her, the rest we can have our own opinions 😅 THE CRYING CAT PIC, i love you ningning imitating the crying cat every 5 seconds, it gives me a lot of joy

but she's staying away.. kind of.. lowkey.. i mean, she gifted her a hedgehog, but other than that 🫴🏼

i hate to say this to you, but the hong kong concert has probably been the best one so far 😔 but it's understandable, if you went with your brother you would have probably not been able to enjoy it fully, it would have had a bittersweet feeling knowing someone else ruined a great experience for you. it wasn't the moment, anon, you will get to see them in the future, i'm sure !! at an opportunity where your enjoyment and happiness won't be compromised 😌

i'm fine, overall, having a decent streak 👍🏻 happy to know you're doing okay, anon, i'll have a good day, and hopefully you too. take care of yourself, and don't worry about the yapping ! 🫂

[a-sip-of-milo]

Sorry if you dont like me ranting in your inbox like this but your recent post really resonated with me

My old school was literally named after having a community, and it was all about community and loving each other and whatever. But it had such an...outcast- I suppose- problem that the staff literally barely did anything about. The students outcasted the "weird" ones (like me) and we always were made fun of. The school was very obviously against blatant bigotry, but they were really bad with anything discreet, even when they were told directly about it by kids like me. You know it's bad when the students literally felt safe enough to say the n slur (a white kid said it, against a poc) multiple times. Yet it always seemed they cared more about kids writing in the stalls in the bathrooms than the community they always preached about. (Literally they made a whole "write your name and time you went to and came back from the bathroom" thing because of that yet did a horrible job at "fixing" the bullying/outcast problem) Hell! My mom said how she got a little annoyed too that she was never invited to or told about the facebook group that the parents apparently had despite the school being all about community. One year, the year I left, the year that was too much for me, last school year, several new kids joined the school. Apparently they were a lot more blatantly bigoted and bulliers, and rubbed off on a lot of the other students there. So suddenly they had a big bullying problem ("oh no the outcast problem we've been told about so much is now too obvious to keep avoiding") Yet they still did barely anything about it. They acted like they were trying but they really weren't doing a good job. So much of the pressure was put on the teachers (god bless those teachers btw, especially the ELA teacher, they were literally the sweetest teachers I've ever known I hope they never have to deal with something like that again), who couldn't do much because they didn't have enough power. Also the teachers were struggling to teach (and they made lessons fun!!!!) bc of the students :( I was being very blatantly verbally bullied near the end of my time there, and I remember my bully shouting out her mean comments very loudly in class (while the teacher was trying to be silly with me). And I could see the teacher know he couldn't do anything except say "just ignore it." I could tell he wanted to do more to help but... he literally couldn't. Because guess who was ignoring it? The fucking staff. The motherfuckers who talked about community soooo much Oh yeah also very very blatantly ableism last year against another classmate of mine (or well, wouldn't come across as ableism to people who wouldn't know why but definitely obvious bullying), and the staff handled it so horribly (I could rant about another thing here but you probably dont wanna hear it and this has already gone on too long lol)

Very very sorry if this was tmi/oversharing or something it's just that what you said in that post sounded like it would've come directly from my mouth so I felt like sharing /gen

(I'd get if you didn't wanna post this btw 😅)

yes, this is exactly what i mean when i say that while individuals might care, schools as a whole generally don't. I'm so sorry your school experience was so bad, that sort of thing shapes so many aspects of your life going forward and in my opinion, it's extremely important for children and teens to have positive experiences at school.

my inbox is available for people to rant in, it's okay <3

[aiku]

in theory i love himmel he's literally That Guy even if the hero sword thing said he wasn't like he is Him. his affection towards frieren like everything he did/said to make frieren feel loved for the first time and trying to take care of her even after he's long gone is very romantic and tragic bc she never got to reciprocate while he was alive. i think this is all very sweet bc frieren actually does love him back in her own way (i wouldn't mind if it were platonic love on her side tbh that would be just as powerful to me. but i cannot deny that himmel seems to be more special to her than heiter) but if i think abt this from the perspective of a woman being completely clueless abt love/affection and someone who she did NOT like was doing all this then it would be rly uncomfortable lolll like ew why did you dedicate your entire life to me and trying to haunt me even after your death like that lol. again not to say himmel is problematic or anything i luv him and the ring scene made me teary n in the end he let her do her own thing despite how he felt etc. etc. i'm just saying 😭

[yesimwriting]

Hi! This isn’t really an ask as much as it’s a rant about how much I love the new chapter of “Final Girl” . YOU’RE AMAZING! seeing the mental affects this has all had her was so realistic, it felt like I could personally feel that distance in herself she feels it’s amazing and heartbreaking, I feel so bad for my baby :(. And like you said the boys having the AUDACITY to be shocked that she’s traumatized like THEY DIDNT TRAUMATIZE HER LIKE “Yeah I pushed you off the bridge, but I didn’t expect you to 𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺? :(” LIKEE???NO FUCK SHES NOT OKAY, YOU GUTTED HER FRIEND AND TORMENTED HER, REMEMBER?.

And gale putting her in the book just reminded me of all the conflicting feelings I have about her character in general like I love her she’s an icon, but at the same time after six movies of her disregarding the victims of ghosts face it’s really getting annoying how her character is always knocking down victims of ghosts face for money like she doesn’t have enough of it, she does it with total disregard to them.she doesn’t pay them,she doesn’t n ask them,she doesn’t even apologize like ever and with knowing all that I don’t know why I didn’t think she would exploit the mc but either way it goes I’m FUMING I adore gale and all but she’s doing my girl dirty and I’m really starting to hope she doesn’t make it to end.

Anyways all that aside THEY WERE SO TENDER THIS CHAPTER IT WAS SO SWEET THEIR DYNAMIC TOGETHER IS SO AHHHHHHHHHHHH, I’ve missed them all so much I’m gonna be sick😭, though I don’t like how gales playing my girl the up side is that ensures more protective billy and Stu (and probably a fight, maybe not a fight this time but I’ve noticed that when things get bad for her they get real pushy and she get real distant (rightfully so) and causes problems cause they’re all so insecure but that’s beside the point, fall outs mean make ups and I love those)

Any ways I realize that this is really long and I don’t expect you to read all of this but basically all I’m say is I LOVE YOU, I LOVE FINAL GIRL, AND I LOVE THEM BYE💛

omg i love you 😭 i wanted to take my time to let this absorb before responding bc of how incredibly sweet this is!

first off always feel free to rant in my asks! i love when people send me messages (especially when it's about something i wrote bc it means so much that someone read it and cared enough to say something), no matter the length and most definitely read everything! also i have never been brief about anything in my life so it would be illegal for me to judge

also i'm so happy you picked up on the psychological elements! i feel like there's so much hinted at in each ghostface, but especially billy and stu, especially their dynamic with billy having a bit of a motive and stu being presented as just having gone along with it a little more, so i try to stay true to that if nothing else, also psychology is like my second passion (i was a psych major for two days before deciding that i loved writing more) so i like to explore that side of things and i'm glad it comes across!

and yes i just had to make a joke about the way they were shocked 😭 like i'm sure the two of them could have been smart enough to think since we like y/n, maybe we just shouldn't involve her in anything ghostface related, it also has nothing to do with her bc she just moved here and has literally no context on anything! but they're a little delusional and had to give into the impulsive, and they basically made her the main character of their horror movie 😌 so it wasn't too mean, right

also you perfectly captured how i feel about gale! like she is my icon, i love her, but if i was in the scream universe i'd be so over her, ESPECIALLY if i was one of the victims, like you're going to profit off of my trauma and not even cut me a check? but she's also multi-faceted and does have her moments where she shows that she cares about people, and no spoilers, but y/n's going to have a connection/relationship with gale and it will be one of the most complicated and trying ones of y/n's life and that's saying something considering the billy and stu situation 😭

gale is also about to bring some drama! a bit of an emotional peak that i won't get into on here bc spoilers

anyways thank you sm for reading final girl and now i've rambled a bit so feel free to not read all of this lol 💗

[sehunniepotwrites]

HAAAAAAAI i'm so glad i could bring a smile to your face in your day through my messages heheheheh ☺️ how was your day today!!!

omg is this telepathy or what! i was just considering and thinking of whether i wanted to pursue a masters after finishing up my undergrad degree studies!! hehe what's your masters in if it's not too private to ask 🫢 i was just thinking of doing masters because of my current timeline!! it's rly rly tuff to find a job here after graduating because the mkt is currently just kinda meh :/ so i was just wondering if perhaps going for masters would put me in a better spot!! but then again masters is something i can decide at a later time so rn im just gathering opinions from ppl who have taken it! wbu!! do u have any thoughts or opinions? :")

OMGGGGGG have i mentioned im a SUCKER for childhood besties concepts cuz that's just so so so cute 🥹🥹 I LOVE IT I CANT WAIT!!!! 😍 and my goodness how r u alw so creative w your ideas??? iM so unimaginative that like stories alw amaze me 🫢 hehehehe and HELLO wdym u have a life like a fic odnfoenfoke THATS SO COOL AND SWEET N LOVELY gosh i'd WISH i had like one thing from a fic ever happen to me 🥰🥰🥰🥰

AHHHH im so glad u could meet your friends and hang out together!! wish u had as much fun as u possibly could!! hehehehe how nice would it be if we could always be hanging out w our besties and just spending time together 🥺 hope you guys r meeting again soon!!! sounds rly rly fun to karaoke together it's been so so long for me to both karaoke and meet my friends cuz literally everyone im close to or care about is on exchange this semester :/

which brings me to my never ending rant of how despresso espresso i am this semester >< it's a rly tuff time in my life rn cuz im trying to navigate and find an internship that matches both my interest and my degree cuz it is a graduation requirement for me 🤡 i guess im at least getting somewhere w the search cuz i did have a pretti good offer lately! and im currently just pending the outcome of another role i interviewed for under the same company before making a decision (if i do get offered by the other role too heh) 😊 but then im just rly rly LONELY this semester and im just sad cuz im attending classes and doing everything by myself :/ and i dont have friends arnd locally rn that i could meet and just unwind after a period of stress so its rly draining me a lot on top of my never ending assignments projects and exams 🥲🥲 and yea ldr is so so tough and its so hard to keep my emotions in check because of how big of an overthinker i am so im always just having sleepless nights, constant nightmares and sometimes even sleep paralysis 🥲 i guess im becoming more independent from this whole experience though! forces me to become a whole even without everyone by my side and to continue living and functioning, doing what i should be doing!

i love coming to talk to u and reading all your responses too!! 🩵 m alw looking forward to your replies and your kind words to me hehehehe keeps me going!!!

love, 🍑

i've spent the weekend in bed becuase i'm sick again! i binged s2 of the summer i turned pretty and i cried a whole bunch. i love how they really took the angsty route this season--really showed how diff people deal with grief! probs gonna call out tomorrow because i've been sneezing like crazy and my voice is lowkey gone ;; i think i'm gonna try to get some writing done and post a teaser for a story that may never be completed but it's too good to just stay in my drafts!!

oh sure, i have my masters in education. i went thru a one year ma program with a teacher's cred tied into it too. my program was unique in that they condensed a two year prog into one accelerated and it was the toughest year of my life tbh. working full time as a teacher and going to school full time for basically two degrees was tough.

i love all my ideas but i haven't been able to finish them!!! i really want to get them out to the world bc theyre too good to sit in my drafts but it's so incomplete!! the one i am thinking about posting can be a standalone because its such an open-ended ending but there's still WAY more planned for it.

if you have time, playing games together online is a good way to keep in contact. we played pictionary on a website and it was super fun during the pandemic a lot!

it looks like youre slowly getting your ducks in a row for the internship despite the stress! but i see how missing your so and friends can affect your mood. feeling alone is never the best feeling and i totally see where you are coming from. but look at you, you're already looking at the positives out of your stressful situation! that's so great! you can only go up from here, you know? and listen, this is something i always tell my students, each person has their own timeline--their own time to make mistakes, to figure out what they want or need, etc. you may take longer than others but you don't need to worry about others. worry about you and focus on the things you can do for yourself to make you better. and if you make a mistake, that's just a lesson you can take. it's all about your growth mindset!

love u lots!!!