#studied their work hard for when I started as an animation major

[paper-lilypie]

what are your favorite movies besides bumblebee? my top three are the goonies, home, and the bad guys (the last two are childish but I don't care lol)

The Prince of Egypt, Kung Fu Panda 2 and Tarzan.

#tpoe is a MASTERPIECE and I know the movie by heart #the whole soundtrack instrumentals vocals and script #i can recite ​all of it in my sleep lol #and kfp2 is a staple of animation obvs #Tarzan’s soundtrack GOD #phil collins knew what he was doing with Youll Be In My Heart #also glenne keane is my idol #so is James Baxter #my heroes in the animation industry #studied their work hard for when I started as an animation major #forever obsessed #OKAY THATS ENOUGH RAMBLE #ask lily

[pedgito]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 pt. i ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: something that is desired all the more because it is not allowed—you find yourself torn between the idea that even though eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most.

cw: 18+ (minors, dni) teacher/student relationship, age gap (21 & 29), corruption!kink (eddie is well aware of what he’s doing), background ronance, max is readers bestfriend, eddie likes to wear his hair up for class and hates being formal, bratty!reader (sorta), angsty touches, a smutty cliffhanger, ect & lots more to come (pun intended)

word count: 11.6k - part two, part three, part four

The campus was huge and crowded and everything you hated all wrapped into one—but you couldn’t beat the view, the pleasant Indians weather, and all the amazing classes the college had to offer. And normally, first days would be terrifying, crippling your anxiety, but there was nothing but excitement; for now, at least. 

Most of your morning was spent combing through syllabuses and trying to find your classes, which is mostly your own fault, deciding on a major so vastly different from your main course work��by the time afternoon rolls around, you’re forced to walk clear across campus, nearly ten minutes late to your class and faced with a surprisingly unirritated gentleman, who’s three seconds away from shutting the door closed indefinitely.

The man steals a glance at his watch, arm twitching slightly to force his sleeve back. His eyes glance up to you for a moment and back down, “Not a great way to start off your first day,” He comments cooly, face void of any emotion, “is this gonna be a habit?”

“No—god, no,” You respond, slightly out of breath, hand clutching the strap of your book bag, “I’m just getting used to where everything’s at—I didn’t get a chance to visit the campus earlier, I have no idea where anything is or—“

“It’s fine,” He assures, beckoning you into the classroom, surprisingly full, forcing you to the front row, positioned almost directly in front of his desk—this was the beginning of your nightmare, “let’s just be mindful of time, yeah?”

Not that Eddie has ever been punctual a day in his life. But, he’s learned that being a hard-ass is more effective than not giving a shit at all, especially when it comes to his students. 

“Yeah—yes, I promise.” You swear, forcing a thin smile before making an immediate line for your desk, hoping that the further you sink, the more unnoticed you’ll be. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. 

The loud slide of the chalk against the chalkboard as he writes his name across the green slab is defeating, most of the class watching in fearful silence—like there was some impending doom about to descend upon them. 

“Uh, sir—“ You can see him visibly tense at the word, “are we going to be learning how to play any instruments in this class?” The voice comes from a boy who seems naturally quiet and more reserved, mortified by the fact that he even found the courage to raise his hand and ask a question. 

There’s a small roar of laughter from the others, but you look along stoically, watching his face upturn slightly. 

“Don’t call me, sir—please,” He laughs lightly, “it makes me feel old.”

“Professor Munson,” He corrects himself, “sorry.”

“You’re fine,” He assures, “and look—this isn’t an intro to music, it’s intro to musical therapy. We’re not just studying instruments and music, we’re also studying behaviors, the mind, how all of this stuff connects and affects people’s thought process and aiding certain struggles they may have.”

His way of talking is animated and refreshing, a stark change from the usual monotone professors you’ve run into all morning. 

“So, if you’re just expecting to learn how to play the piano or something, this class probably isn’t for you,” He explains, eyeing down about a quarter of the class that makes a collective groan, “hey—I’m just being honest.”

And you knew you wouldn’t see half of those people in a week, jumping at the first chance to transfer, but you couldn’t help being intrigued. It wasn’t necessarily your first choice for a major, but it took you by surprise; your love for psychology and mind studies mixed with your love of music, it seemed like the perfect storm. Plus, your professor wasn’t the worst person in the world—yet. 

He easily snaps open the cuff links to his sleeves, rolling them halfway up his arm, revealing a rather striking depiction of bats, swarming around the expanse of his forearm. 

He definitely seemed like a tattoo guy, but it was still odd to see so openly—his feet tap together as he takes a seat on the end of his desk, scanning the room. You can’t help but notice his lopsided tie, wanting so desperately to fix it—it was bound to drive you nuts. 

“It’s probably best to get most of your question out of the way today,” He says, “so, shoot them at me while you have the opportunity.”

A few hands fly up, he points off to your right, a couple rows behind you. 

“So—are you a therapist?” 

He snorts a soft laugh, shaking his head, “No—I don’t have all the proper certifications, but I assist therapist a lot when they’re looking into doing stuff related to musical therapy. I know enough to get by.” 

The smile he flashes leads you to believe that he’s trying to be humble. 

“Do you play any instruments?” Another student asks freely, the heads of the rest of the class snapping in their direction.

“A few,” He answers, hand waving about in a noncommittal manner, “mostly just guitar.”

He adjusts his tie again, even more lopsided now and you can’t help but stare it down, focused on nothing but the black, shiny material of it—Eddie clears his throat softly, catching your attention.

He’s staring right at you, caught red-handed—quick, think of something—

“Who do you usually work with?” You ask suddenly, “In your line of work, I mean.”

Outside of being a professor, obviously. 

Another laugh, more subdued. “Veterans, mostly, and a lot of children.” 

Eddie claps his hands together very suddenly, startling most of the class, including yourself. “Anyways, let’s go over the syllabus so there’s no confusion—I don’t need you guys bugging me outside of my office hours, as much as I love to teach.”

You sense another jab coming, but it doesn’t.

The syllabus review is a breeze, setting you up for what most of the semester entails, including when he was available—again, making it very clear that he wasn’t available outside of office hours. 

And then he’s adjusting the damn tie again, almost like it’s wringing his neck to death. By the time class ends, he dismisses everyone with a simple wave, a few students lingering around their desks, debating on whether they should drop the class or not. 

The voice that trails from the front of the classroom as you take a step down catches your attention, pulling your head up to look at the culprit. “Staying or dropping?” He asks.

Professor Munson. It felt weird and unnatural as it rolled around in your mind, still not falling from your tongue. 

“Staying,” You answer surely, “I knew what this class was before I signed up—I’m not about playing roulette with taking a college class.”

“Fair enough.” He’s leaning against his desk again, hands shoved into his slack pockets, shiny, gold watch resting on his wrist, and you can’t take it anymore, the frustration boiling from your chest

“Your tie,” You say abruptly, pointing at the material, “It’s crooked.”

Really fucking crooked. 

He takes a glance down, finger slipping in the space between his tie and neck, pulling at the offense piece of clothing, loosening it until it’s snapping away.

He balls up the tie and tosses it behind me, landing messily on his desk. “I never wear those after the first day—hate them. They’re so stupid.” 

“Or, you just don’t know how to tie a tie.” You point on, mouth speaking before your brain can catch up—realizing much too late that this was your professor, not a friend. 

Eddie scoffs mockingly, “And I’m sure you do.” He counters, watching your face drop slightly.

You did, actually—but that wasn’t the point. 

“No one ever taught me.” He tells you, “So I’m wingin’ it.” 

You nod thoughtfully, surprised at how quickly you managed to embarrass yourself. “Oh.” You say simply, it’s all you can manage. 

You save yourself for further humiliation by offering a wave of goodbye, breaking the uncomfortable tension that had grown between you both, excusing yourself immediately.

And if that was horrible enough, your night would be even worse. 

☆.｡.:*

“The Hideout?” You ask curiously, twisting the flyer in your hand, “That place is still open?

Max snatches the paper from your hand, shoving it into the pocket of her jacket, protecting her from the biting cold of wind—the beginnings of Hawkins autumn weather creeping up on you. 

It didn’t help that you were barely covered from the waist down, skirt leaving little to imagine as the slit ran high up your thigh, thankfully the long sleeve top you wore was enough to save your upper extremities. 

“Nancy and Robin swear by that place—plus, they’ll be pissed if you don’t go.” Max explains in her usual ‘could care less’ tone.

The only reason she was going was because of Lucas—a boy she’d met during her first class that day, who she also invited out, despite barely knowing. You couldn’t blame her, though. Max could handle herself well enough, that was for sure. 

The drive is long, further out of town than you expect—hidden on some rundown road on an empty corner, bare except for the small bar, yet the place was packed with cars. 

“Okay, maybe this place isn’t as rundown as I remember,” You take note of, “or everyone really wanted to get drunk tonight.”

Either way, you were definitely heading toward the latter option, following closely after Max. It doesn’t take long for Max to be pulled away though, quickly distracted by the only reason she came here, abandoning you. 

“Have fun,” You remind her, “seriously.” 

You could take care of yourself, settling up at one of the empty tables before the stage, perched on the uncomfortably tall seat, ordering yourself a quick drink as a server passes you. 

“Hey!” A perked up voice yells out from behind you, arms wrapping around in a gentle hug—no one had the nerve besides Robin, who quickly caught you in a fuller hug as you turned to face her. “How have you been? Where’s Max?”

“She’s busy,” You laugh, giving her a pointed look, which she catches on quickly. “Where’s Nance?”

“Right here,” Her delicate voice peaks out from behind Robin, watching as her hand sneaks into Nancy’s, squeezing firmly. 

You smile to yourself, but Robin sees it, shoving you an annoyed look. 

At least those two finally figured it out—almost ten years later. 

“So, you two know who’s playing tonight?” You ask curiously, sipping on the beer that the server passes to you on their way through the crowd. 

“Yeah, he’s an old friend—we haven’t seen him in a while, though.” They both frown at the mention of it, sharing a quiet glance. “We should’ve invited Steve, Nance.” 

“He never wants to leave the house, you know that.” Nancy adds, “His kids keep him busy enough.”

And it seemed like Steve got the life he always wanted, for the most part—but it’s still somber to think about, wishing just as badly that you could’ve seen him once more. 

“Maybe next time.” You offer, and both of them smile. 

“I’ll have to remind him to invite you to his littlest’s party in a couple months,” Nancy says, “he misses you.” 

The feedback startled all of you, pulling you from the conversation and toward the stage, light dimly over the center. The lights around the bar dimmed in contrast, adjusting everyone toward the men gathering in their places on stage.

You squinted carefully, watching the guitarist adjust the microphone, pulling it up to his height. His hair was long, unruly, and obscuring his face as he leaned forward, speaking into the microphone. 

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He asks with a decent amount of enthusiasm, receiving a hearty applause in return. “We’re Corroded Coffin.”

The name blanks in your mind, not ringing any immediate bells. 

It was definitely a crowd full of fans—or family, at least. They excitement was palpable, everyone leaning on the edge of their seats.

“This is our first show in a couple years, so go easy on us.” He laughs, head flicking up to move the hair out of his face—again, he spots you almost instantly. 

The intake of breath is involuntarily, getting caught in your throat. The blush that creeps up your cheeks is hot and burning, noticeable from a mile away.

Eddie fucking Munson, your college professor—of all the chances and fate in the world this is how your night was going to go?

Eddie clears his throat, immediately averting his gaze. “We’re just doing cover songs tonight—so if you’ve got a request, send it through Gareth.” He instructs, jerking his head over his shoulder. 

And despite how mortifying this all feels, Eddie plays his heart out; you’ve never seen anything like it. He’s a person who expresses himself through his body and his music, clearly—thrashing wildly and putting every movement he can into his playing, bouncing on his feet. He can’t be bothered to stay still, which is a complete difference from his classroom demeanor.

From what you’ve seen, at least. 

“You good?” Robin asks, nothing the ghostly look on your face.

“Yeahyeah, uh—“ You reply distantly, “The lead looked familiar, but I think it’s a coincidence.” 

One hell of a fucking coincidence. 

“Eddie?” They both ask simultaneously, “There’s no way.” 

Eddie Munson. Again, your professor—but also, a friend of a friend, and a complete fucking stranger otherwise. You must’ve pissed someone off well enough down the line to end up in this position; the biggest dose of karma you’ve ever felt. 

“Like I said—it’s probably a coincidence.” You assure them, eyes still locked on him. 

“Yeah—I don’t think we started hanging out with him until after you moved schools.” Nancy supplies, further attempting to assure you.

Eddie catches another glance at you and you can’t help but down the bottle of beer in one go, immediately leaving your seat to ask for another, leaving your friends to congregate at the table.

The song ends abruptly, falling off of a long guitar solo, and you can’t even dare to look in that direction, faced shoved into the drink you gripped in your hand. 

“Come here, come here,” You hear Robin call from behind you, but you know it’s not for you, another rumbling voice slipping through the many others, a weak protest, “Stop being like that.”

There really was no arguing with Robin and Eddie was smart to keep quiet, following her obediently to the bar. The hand that clasps your shoulder is light and gentle and Nancy shoots you an apologetic look as you look behind you.

“Ringin’ any bells now?” Robin asks playfully, holding her hand up under his face, like he was on display. Eddie makes a face, side eyeing her affectionately. 

“No, sorry,” You lie easily, shrugging him off. Eddie seems to relax at that, half-expecting you to out both him and yourself—not that there was anything wrong, it was just another freaky coincidence, “What’s his name again?”

And really, it’s just to poke fun, the slight buzz creeping into your system. 

“Eddie Munson,” Nancy replies, glancing between the both of you, “Edward, if that helps.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at that, hand held up in desperation as he called out for a drink over your shoulder, reaching around you to grab the bottle. You visibly tense at the proximity and he notices, still, he doesn’t try to move away. 

This was too weird.

“Nope, still nothing.” You tell them, sticking to your story. 

Robin shrugs, “Well, I should probably explain—Nancy used to babysit her when she was younger, her and Max and all those crazy little kids that we always told you about—“

It made you wince; babysitter, Nancy, kids. It was the worst sequence of words that could’ve been spoken in history, to your professor, in the middle of a bar, that he was also playing at. 

“Robin,” You warn, “I’m sure he doesn’t care.”

“Nah,” Eddie shrugs, leaned beside you against the bar, metal chain clinking against the counter-top, lifting the beer to his lips leisurely, “It’s nice to meet you.”

And the smile seems forced, but his voice is steady, easy—you almost believe him.

But, then Nancy and Robin are pulled off in a different direction, catching up with another small group of friends and Eddie is staring at you.

And not secretly—very, very openly. 

“I swear I didn’t—“ You start.

“I don’t usually,” He interrupts.

You both take a hard stop, looking each other down. 

“You first,” He instructs, bring the drink to his lips once more, “then I’ll go.”

“I swear I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” You explain, “otherwise I would’ve skipped out.”

He wants to ask why, but the answer seems obvious—no one wants to see their teacher outside of school. 

“I don’t usually make a habit of letting my students see me like this.” He motions to his get-up, hair loose and clothes even looser, aside from the obviously homemade jacket he wore, patches hand stitched and worn at the seams, but the weirdest part of it all—the ripped jeans. It felt out of place for someone nearing their thirties. He catches your gaze, the judgement evident. “My point exactly.”

“So, that’s why you don’t know how to tie a tie.” You challenge, taking a long sip of beer, eyebrow quirked in amusement as you swallow, cheeks puffed out by the liquid. 

He scoffs softly, amused at your comeback. “We shouldn’t even be talking right now, you know that?” He points out, yet he hasn’t moved an inch, still close enough that if you decided to separate your thighs, he’d fit perfectly.

You hum quietly, “Yet, you’re still here.” Another beer down, another slipped into your hand like clockwork, throwing it back easily. “So, who’s fault is that?”

Him being the responsible adult and all, not that it really mattered here. This would be a level playing field outside of any other circumstance. 

“Wait—can I ask a personal question?” And maybe it was the alcohol talking. 

“No—“ He answers quickly, but your brain bypasses it.

“How old are you?” You ask curiously, “You look too young to be a professor.”

Eddie looks stunned, affected by your forwardness, but he takes it in stride. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment—I’m twenty nine, a couple years older than Nancy and Robin.”

You don’t press on the additional information, but nod thoughtfully, taking another quick sip of your beer.

“Sorry—it was bugging me. I have a bad problem with filtering my thoughts.” You admit sheepishly, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, fiddling with the flimsy zipper on your skirt. 

“Clearly,” Eddie laughs, bringing the bottle to his lips slowly, stopping just as his lips pressed the rim, “Are you even old enough to be drinking?”

“Are you going to kick me out if I’m not?” You challenge playfully, Eddie doesn’t bite, looking you down accusingly.

It was as if he suddenly shifted back into teacher mode, judging your choices and feeling the need to scold you.

“I’m twenty one,” You tell him, “don’t have a fucking stroke over it.”

You don’t know why Eddie’s eyes shift, scanning full body, like he’s trying to take all of you in—both of your contrasting styles outside of school are a welcomed surprise; he doesn’t really expect it from you. But, you could say the same for him.

“Wasn’t gonna,” He assures you, nursing the beer near his mouth, forearms leaned against the bar now as he looks toward you, eyes catching the way your fingers fiddled with the label on the bottle, “you cold?”

Your leg crosses over the other, goosebumps riddling your skin—it’s like he’s a mind reader, the entrance door of the bar swinging open, a cold blast of air spreading throughout. “Not really.” You lie, gripping the end of your skirt to shift it down. 

You could’ve been more practical, shown up in jeans and some worn out band shirt, but you wanted to look nice—feel cute and dressed up for once, was that a crime? 

“Hey, there you are,” Max calls from behind you, scattering toward you with a wide-eyed Lucas in tow, “so you met Eddie?”

You turn in your seat, staring the fiery redhead down, a smile plastered on her freckle covered face. 

“You too?” You ask incredulously, glancing toward Eddie, who seemed rather unfazed by it all now. “What the hell?”

“He used to live across from me, back in high school,” Max explains, which makes sense.

You moved after middle school, leaving most of Hawkins in your rear view, aside from the occasional letters to Max—both of you swore that despite the distance, college was your nonnegotiable; both of you applied, both of you got accepted, it was some sort of divine miracle, but neither of you questioned it.

“Small world,” Eddie shrugs from beside you, finishing off the last sip of his beer, “you staying out of trouble, Red?”

“Probably not,” She replies honestly, before turning to you sheepishly, “—do you think Robin will give you a ride home?”

“Max,” You groan, her look switching from hesitant to pleading, “fine—whatever, I’ll talk to Robin.”

“I love you,” She says endearingly, wrapping you into a quick forceful hug, nearly knocking you from your chair, “I owe you one.” 

“Uh huh,” You reply sarcastically, waving her away, “See you tomorrow.”

When you turn, Eddie is slapping a fresh bill on the counter-top, returning his chained wallet back to his pocket.

 “I guess I’ll be seeing you Monday.”

Saying it makes it even weirder. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” You assure him, seeing the way his eyes catch yours, almost thankful. He doesn’t have to say it—he didn’t take you for the type to brag, but still, it’s a comforting confession. “I promise.”

The last part feels like too much, but Eddie smiles regardless, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders, preparing for the crisp, cold air that awaits him.

Robin, find Robin. Your brain scrambled, searching around for your friend—or Nancy, but neither of them are anywhere inside of the bar. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding. 

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks softly, pulling the hair caught under the lapel of his jacket.

“I think they left,” You frown slightly, preparing yourself to walk several blocks until the nearest bus station, feet already sore and achy from the uncomfortable heels you wore, “Robin and Nance.”

And Eddie has the internal battle with himself for at least half a minute, weighing the odds of how uncomfortable this could be, or how creepy it may come off, but he wasn’t going to leave you high and dry—he wasn’t raised that way.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks suddenly, swinging his keys into his palm.

“Huh?” There was no way you were taking a ride from your teacher, of all people. “—I’m fine, really. I just need to walk far enough to the bus stop.” 

“In those?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring down at the heels that hugged your feet like a vice grip, already sore from only a couple hours of use. “It’s not a big deal—are you going back to campus?”

You nod hesitantly.

Eddie motions toward the door and you follow obediently—your feet could thank you later. You knew there was no harm in a ride home, either, Eddie was far from the normal sketchy men around Hawkins, but it didn’t feel right. It felt like keeping a secret from your parents and doing something that had persistently told you not to, or how often the school system looked down on relations with staff outside of school, no matter the level or severity. It seemed that Eddie was hoping you’d keep this to yourself—he was counting on it.

☆.｡.:*

“Did you enjoy the music at least?” Eddie asks halfway through the drive, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other fishes for his pack of cigarettes; a bad habit he’d yet to break.

“I mean—they were cover songs,” You shrugged, “Metallica is alright, but I prefer Bon Jovi and Quiet Riot—“

“Are you shitting on Metallica, right now?” Eddie asks, shocked by the admission. He manages to wiggle a cigarette out with one hand, tossing the box toward the middle console, “Do you mind?”

Part of you wants to say yes, just to be difficult, but you shake your head. He flicks his lighter opening, lighting the end of the cigarette until it burns a bright amber, ashes falling from the tip.

“You dress like you’re stuck in the eighties, dude.” Eddie seems offended by the comment, but takes it in stride. 

“Says the lady who still listens to Bon Jovi.” Eddie sharks, pulling the cigarette from his lips, smoke billowing from his nose as he breathes, “

You hate how nice it is to watch, his soft lips pursing into a tight line. One more hit at him and he’d probably fail you out of spite, but you do it anyway. 

“Says the guy still singing eighties cover songs.” Eddie winces at the jab, flicking away the ash from the cigarette, held out in the air as he searches for his retort.

“So you hated it?” Is all his brain can muster at a time like this, brain hazy from the amount of beers he consumed—you could say the same for yourself, the alcohol buzz is still ever apparent—you wouldn’t have ended up in a situation like this while stone cold sober, that’s for sure.

“No,” You reply honestly. The music was good, the performance was even better, but still—it seemed he was searching for your approval, like it would make all the difference, “but it’s the mid nineties, you need to get with the times.”

Eddie scoffs offensively, a few more puffs before he’s rubbing the cigarette to its untimely demise, pulling into the quiet campus. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” He says, coming to a stop, “—I hope this is close enough, the last thing I need is someone catching me dropping you off.”

Then he shouldn’t have offered a ride, which was his first mistake of many. 

It’s offensive how handsome he looks under the dim lights radiating from the inside of his van—an odd choice for a teacher of his salary, but it still makes sense, somehow. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sir.” You retort, throwing the last bit in for fun—he tenses again, visibly. He doesn’t correct you, though, which is even more difficult to understand.

He offers a simple wave, friendly and polite, then he’s gone and halfway across the campus before you can even process what happened. 

It also doesn’t help that the first thing you see in your dreams that night is his face—ungodly in the way he worshiped your body, from head to toe; it was definitely the alcohol talking. 

☆.｡.:*

Monday drags more than you expect, having nursed your hangover during the weekend, it felt like an aftershock was trying to overtake you, your focus lacking. It wasn’t unlike you. 

You replay the conversation with Eddie in your head a few times that weekend, realizing that even through your drunken haze, Eddie was not attempting to be teacherly toward you—he was friendly, a natural conversationalist, it felt wrong. 

It felt even worse when you fell asleep, his head stuck between your thighs as you dreamed that night, “She’s so pretty,” His voice is faded, muffled—like he’s stuck in a tunnel and too far away, “fucking soaking wet, too.” 

And it feels too real as he licks a broad stripe up your cunt, moaning obscenely as his face is coated in your wetness, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit—it’s too much for you to process. 

“Good afternoon,” Eddie’s voice carries through the door to his classroom, satchel and coffee in hand, looking just as worse for wear. His hair is tied back in a loose bun, no tie today, and his slacks look like they’re been worn for a week straight, wrinkles and all, “nice to see the class has downsized.”

It has, nearly half of the original class is gone—which really, it was better for you. You couldn’t focus in large classes and it felt less personal, more disconnected than you liked.

Eddie tries desperately to keep his energy up during the duration of the lesson, but he’s lacking on all fronts—maybe he had a rough weekend? 

When he hands out the first assignment near the end of class, he stops by your desk, leaning on the railing to speak to the entirety of the class, “And don’t freak out—this is just a basis to see where you heads are at in terms of what music you like, how it makes you feel, it’s just a soft introduction into some of the stuff we’ll be covering over the semester.”

It’s a list of various songs, bands, genres—a mix of things dating back to the early fifties, up until more recently. “Go out, rent some of this if you’ve never heard of it, and write what you feel—that’s it. Easy enough?” 

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge you most of the class, which is expected, but disappointing. He seems preoccupied, distracted, clearly bothered by something. But, it wasn’t your problem—the only focus you had now was your course work, which was the first thing you started on that night; a very giddy Max rummaging through your dorm room as background noise, so disorganized it could drive you insane. 

“He drove you here?” She asks.

“Yes—but you can’t say anything, Max. I’m serious.” 

You didn’t have anything to worry about, you knew that.

“I didn’t even know he taught here—or that he was even a professor. I mean, I know he finally graduated but—“

“Finally?” You ask curiously, swiveling in your chair to face her fully, interest fully piqued.

“He had a rough time in high school—he didn’t graduate until he was twenty, I think.” She explains, busy hands now stopped in their tracks. “He’s been through a lot.”

Your eyebrows raise in question, hoping Max would spill everything she knew—you couldn’t help but be curious about him, even if he was your professor.

“He probably doesn’t even know I go here,” She laughs slightly, “His mom and dad were never in the picture, though—at least I never saw them, it’s always been him and his uncle. He hung out with Nancy, Steve, and Robin a lot—closer to when he was graduating, they’ve stayed good friends, I guess.”

You nod slowly, absorbing the information.

“Is he mean?” Max asks randomly and you almost laugh, “My professors are the worst.”

“He’s fine,” You shrug, “It’s kinda nice that he’s not such a dick, you know?”

“What does he teach again?” 

“Musical therapy?” You respond, wondering if that would surface any other tidbits of information.

“Oh—that kinda makes sense. He was always listening to music, then he just disappeared after graduation, but his uncle always talked about how he was helping people, doing something he really liked—I just never bothered him about it.”

There’s a long silence before Max can’t help herself, perching herself on the surface closest to you, pens scrambling to the floor as she takes a seat on the edge of your shared desk. 

“What did you guys talk about?”

“The weather,” You say flatly, not receiving any type of reaction from her, “—-just music, that’s it.”

“But, babe, you love music.” Max reminds, like it wasn’t painfully obvious. 

“And—he’s my professor, it’s fucking weird.” You explain, but even Max doesn’t believe you. “What—why are you looking at me like that?” 

“You two are so similar,” She laughs, “It’s freaky.”

“Maxine—what are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing,” She shrugs, hoping from the desk, “—remember that I’ll be your maid of honor at the wedding, though. We pinky swore.” 

“He’s my professor, Max.” You stress again, Max smiles wide, annoying you further.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, right?” Max asks, realizing that you’d used the same playful jab at him the night before.

“What?” The coincidence was uncanny.

“Eddie used to tell me that whenever I tried to justify doing something I wasn’t supposed to—I’ve grown, obviously,” That’s not entirely believable, but you keep your mouth shut, “the saying stuck with me—it’s kinda fun to use.”

“Whatever—did you get the music I asked about?” You ask, impatiently switching the topic to something less scandalous.

“Everything was spoken for,” Max explains, trying to let you down gently, “I really tried—but I guess everyone in that class had the same idea on where to go, unless you want to take a trip to the store and buy them—“

And it dawns on you, Eddie must have some sort of music collection, “Wait—what time is it?”

Max takes a quick glimpse at the alarm clock on her nightstand, “A quarter past five, why?”

Still open for office hours—you prayed silently, despite your lack of religion, hoping that he was still in his classroom.

“Give me a ride.” 

Max doesn’t question it, being the best friend she is. 

☆.｡.:*

“I’m busy,” He says before you can even knock on the door, your loud ascending footsteps giving you away, “come back in the morning.”

You peek through the window of the door anyways, seeing a perfectly relaxed Eddie reclined at his desk, feet propped up as he jotted something down in a book, tongue poked out in focus. 

“Uh Professor…Munson,” It felt foreign and weird, “I just had a question.” 

His demeanor changes on a dime at the sight of you, unbusying himself completely. It’s a little hysterical, but endearing nonetheless. It makes your stomach flutter at the sight, scrambling to button his shirt higher, seem more professional, not that you hadn’t already seen him outside of work.

The door creaks open, his head popping through as you back away, “What’s going on?” He asks, surprised that anyone would dare to bother him outside of normal class hours. It doesn’t take you long to realize that he only mentioned the office hours out of courtesy, he didn’t actually expect anyone to bother him. 

“I was trying to work on your assignment—“ His eyes softened, and it made you flinch, feeling exposed, “I don’t really have the money to buy any of the music and everything was already rented out—-so I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“Oh,” He wasn’t sure what to expect but he finds himself opening the door wider, welcoming you inside, “Yeah—a few students raided my shelf before class was over but I’m sure there’s some left.”

“Thanks,” You reply shyly, squeezing beside him, watching as he lingered by the door still, hands shoved into fists in his pockets, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, sir—“

“You can call me Eddie—here, at least.” And that definitely doesn’t feel appropriate, but if he’s insisting, well…

“Sorry, it just feels…strange, I guess.” It’s not how you wanted to describe it, but it’s the only word that comes to mind. “I can’t imagine how weird it is running into your students outside of class.”

“Probably as weird as it feels running into your teacher,” He adds playfully, lightening the mood. It’s nice that he’s not so bothered by all of it, “Oh—I’ve got some Elvis in there, a lot of classic rock. I’m not sure about the newer stuff, though.”

“Max has some of it.” You comment without thinking, sifting through the box of music, picking and choosing as you went. 

“Max?”

“She’s—she’s my roommate here.” You answer quietly, unable to meet his eyes as he walks closer, leisurely making his way around his desk. 

“I guess I should’ve put that together,” He says, taking a moment to examine the sweater you’d shoved on, “You two share a closet?”

“Among other things.” You smile, grasping the stack of Cd's in your hand, “How did you know?” 

You share a glance down at the faded sweater, reading off the name of some random skate shop back in rural Hawkins, a place you’ve never stepped foot inside of.

“I got that for Red on her sixteenth birthday, before I left.”

Eddie’s frowning now, nearly unnoticeable, but you see the way his mouth creases, eyes turned down. “It’s her favorite,” You say, in an attempt to make the mood less dark, “but I always steal it from her—she’s let me take residency over it at this point.”

“It looks nice,” Eddie says suddenly, feeling the slip up as it slides off his tongue, rambling even further as he says, “on you—I mean, it’s a nice sweater—that’s why I bought it.”

You laugh softly, bottom lip jutting out as your mouth curls into a smile. “Thanks, Eddie.”

He scratched at his temple, ringed finger shining against the light refracting from the lamp on his desk. You’ve never noticed it before—or them, since his hand was adorned with three, that you could see. 

“Hey, those are cool—“ You point out, finger pressed in the direction of his upheld hand. He stops, views his hand, almost like he’s forgotten he was wearing them, “I’ve noticed them before.”

“I try not to wear them during class hours, the administration thinks it’s unprofessional.” The nature of the rings, not the fact that he wore them—if he had a wedding ring it wouldn’t matter, but the thought of marriage made Eddie want to vomit. 

“Fuck ‘em.” You say crudely, shoulder shrugged In indifference. 

Eddie’s mouth hangs open slightly at the sudden outburst, amusement flooding his face, “I’m still your professor—probably should keep that type of language to a minimum.”

You snort at his indication that he had any type of hold over what you do—he couldn’t be further from the point. 

“Or what?” You say challengingly, “This isn’t high school—it’s not like you can give me detention or tell my parents.”

“I am the one handling your grades.” He counters, hip leaned against the edge of his desk. Your free hand travels to your waist, slipping underneath the sweater to rest against the skin.

“You don’t intimidate me—I hope you know that.” You remind him carefully, eyes narrowing in his direction. “The other’s are terrified of you, but that shit doesn’t work on me.”

And he should know better—you shouldn’t even be here and he definitely should be flirting with a student, if you could call it that. Was this flirting? Was this crossing the line? He’s studied body language for a long time, through the process of his treatment of people, and he can’t help but notice how relaxed you seem, almost enjoying the back and forth.

“You should go,” He says quickly, avoiding any further lines being blurred or crossed or misconstrued; you were his student and it was unprofessional, “my office hours are closing soon.”

“Uh huh.” You nod slowly, adjusting the stack of music under your arm, watching the way Eddie’s fingers drum against the desk impatiently, like he can’t wait to get you out of there. 

If he was really that bothered, he could’ve said something.

“Thanks again, professor.” You say with grandeur, motioning to the stack of Cd's, “It’s greatly appreciated.” 

Eddie tries to ignore the small sliver of skin that shows underneath your slightly raised top that was no longer obscured by your hand, almost like you’re doing it on purpose.

Which, yes, you absolutely were.

You slip by him silently, avoiding the way his eyes follow you. It felt predatorial, but not uncomfortable—and that’s what you hated about it. 

He didn’t look at you as a student—he looked at you like something else; you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

Eddie turns on the heels of his shoes, “I expect those back tomorrow,” He warns, but there’s no sense of actual ramifications behind it.

You don’t answer fully, a small nod that Eddie doesn’t quite notice. He grabs the sleeve of your sweater gently, his fingertips pressing against your covered arm. “I mean it.” 

You look at the hand that gripped your arm for far too long, Eddie still holding on just as hard. “I know.” You appease him, “And if I don’t—you know where to find me.”

The glance to your desk is silent, but done in unison.

“Wanna let go now, sir?”

Eddie hates the way his dick twitches under the material of his corduroy slacks, releasing the bunch of material from his grip. You half-expect him to scold you for the remark, but he’s speechless, for once in his life. 

“Sorry,” He apologizes, feeling like he’s made things uncomfortable, but it’s so far from that—he has no idea, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“On time, hopefully.” 

It’s just another playful comment, but it has Eddie gripping his thigh from the inside of his pocket, muscles tensed in frustration.

You leave with a wordless smile that’s burned into Eddie’s mind for the rest of mankind—and it’s definitely not the first thing he thinks about when he slips his boxers down his thighs that night, cock still half-hard from earlier in the evening.

☆.｡.:*

He becomes a permanent fixture in your dreams as the weeks grow on, unbeknownst to him—not that he can say much for himself either, annoyed by the finite nerve you have to walk into his classroom, skirt pulled halfway up your waist, ass barely peeking out of the bottom of the pleated material.

He knows it’s wrong and going against all of the rules set it place for this very reason, but he can’t help himself. So, he suffers in silence—not that it was anything new to him, he’s done it his entire life; under different circumstances and situations perhaps, but the basics of it still remained. 

“Fuck—spread your legs,” His voice is hushed, quiet against the skin of your leg as he sucks a deep purple mark into the skin, jerking at the touch of cold metal, the outside of his rings grazing your thighs, “wanna taste you.”

It feels too real—you toss and turn in your sleep restlessly most nights, dreaming about your professor with his hands around your thighs and his mouth buried deep into your cunt. 

And with little to no interaction during class, aside from the occasional glance in your direction, he kept his distance—which wasn’t a surprise, he had no idea.

He had no idea that his student was practically pining after him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen him outside of the classroom, dress downed and free of an inhibitions or rules; it was a special kind of torture. 

It’s late October when Eddie speaks to you directly, alone—he’s got most of the class set up on various different instruments of their choosing, allowing them to feel them out and play freely, and somehow—by some fucked up fate, you get stuck with a six string and not a clue how to play. 

Fake playing wasn’t working, Eddie could spot it from a mile away. You don’t chance the glance up at him, but the squeak of his shoes is enough warning, bracing for whatever remark was going to be sent your way. 

“Have you ever played before?” He says instead and your eyes immediately shoot up to him, all previous restraint thrown out the window. 

“No, not really.” You say truthfully, watching as Eddie pulled up a chair in front of you, facing the back of it in your direction, thigh swinging over the side—his jeans tightening with the action, along with your thighs. You really needed to get your shit together. 

“Here,” His hands come out to rest over yours, adjusting your left hand over the base of the guitar, your right hand around the neck, “This is A,” He presses your finger over the cord, instructing your other hand to strum.

It’s slightly out of tune, but the guitar seems old—probably provided by the college rather than Eddie himself, “That’s good,” He praises calmly, “Now try playing an A sharp,” He guides your hand further down the neck, the warm, rough skin of his hand covering your own. He feels tough and worn and you notice the small cuts around his fingertips at this proximity, breath catching as his hand grasps around the wrist that was actively strumming the guitar, “it’s really complicated at first, there’s a lot to learn.”

“Clearly,” You say, forcing down the smile that threatened to break through, “how long have you played?”

He seems surprised that you cared or even tried to ask.

“Since I was about twelve, probably.” He answers honestly, “More than half my life.”

Eddie still hasn’t moved his hands, either—he can’t be bothered. It doesn’t look as incriminating as you thought, but still, you knew. He helps you play through a few more notes until he’s gotten you to the point of playing a small, five second tone—but it’s all you can really manage. 

“It takes a while.” He assures you, not that you wanted to pick up a guitar again after this.

“Why don’t you play?” You ask sweetly, smiling flashing with nothing but devious intent, handing the guitar over toward your professor. 

“Nono—I’m really not—“ He protests, setting the guitar back on its stand beside you.

“Not what? That good?” You ask curiously, he was worse at lying to himself than he was to you. 

“Are we forgetting how I saw you play that night?” You ask quietly, nothing how his gaze lingered with yours, “Because if that wasn’t you then—“

He gives you a muted look of warning, wanting you to drop the topic of conversation, but you can’t be bothered. He wasn’t in charge of you, not really. 

“You can play a Dio song blindfolded, I bet,” You point out, still keeping enough of a hushed town that only Eddie can hear, “Your eyes were closed that entire set.”

“It was my first time back home in a while,” He defends lamely, “It helps with the nerves.”

“I thought it was really good.” 

Eddie’s eyes light up in a way you can’t ignore, bordering on shock and adoration, it’s the first real smile you’ve seen from him.

The end of class comes quicker than you want it to, forced to pack your belongings back into your bag in a rush, everyone’s already managed to file out before you can even think of zipping your bag up.

“Hey,” Eddie calls out, every other student already long gone, “here, take this.” 

It’s a flyer, similar to the one Max shoved into your hands a few weeks prior. 

A different bar, same band; one night only. 

“I’m probably breaking a thousand rules by giving you that,” He explains carefully, “but maybe you and Max could come out and watch us play—tell her I’ll even throw in some free Kate Bush.” 

Your smile is warm, folding the flyer and stuffing it into your pocket. “I told you—I’m not the type to blab, Eddie.”

You hate how easy it feels to say his name in such a setting, still dressed up in his ridiculous attempt at seeming studious and professional. You knew he hated it, he knew it too. 

“I can ask her—if not, I’ll still show.” You tell him.

He was only inviting Max to be courteous, but that wasn’t up for him to decide whether or not you actually brought her along. Either way, he was appreciative. He knew that a lot of the support he received back home was mostly done out of obligation and sympathy, but with—it felt real. He didn’t know you, he didn’t have anything to prove to you, and more importantly, you were genuine and honest; he hated that you took up this class. Hated it.

“It’s not a big deal if you can’t.” He offers as an out.

There was no way you were going to miss it, not with how Eddie was looking at you now; despite the circumstance, it was so blatantly obvious to you how badly you wanted him.

“Eddie, I’ll be there.” You assure him once more.

And if the smile that spreads over his face isn’t something worth worshiping, you’d surely find something else. 

☆.｡.:*

The bar is small, on the complete opposite side of town—but Max still offers to drive you, but it’s definitely not for your own benefit. She hasn’t shut up about Eddie since you’d told her the situation, the weird looks he gives you, and the horrible filthy dreams you’ve been having; sans the super embarrassing details. She gets it—it’s incredibly amusing to her, but she gets it. 

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” You asks, fingers tapping nervously against the ripped denim of your jeans, frayed material pulled between your fingertips. “He did invite you.”

“Babe, I’m doing you a favor.” Max interjects, halfhearted smirk on her face.

“He’s my teacher—for the last time,” You begin, beyond desperation, the words falling from your tongue weren’t even believable to your own ears, “I’m not trying to fuck him, Max.”

“I did not say anything about fucking him,” She laughs amusingly, turning into the parking lot of the bar, “—it’s just not as weird as you’re making it out to be. I’ve known Eddie for a long time.”

“You’re really missing the point.” You say, rubbing the frustration on your face away with your hands, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Oh whatever, don’t tell me you suddenly have some strict moral compass,” Max replies flippantly, “you want to screw him and you know it.”

The suspense is enough of an answer. There was no lying to Max, she knew just about every deepest, darkest secret you carried.

She pulls to a stop outside the entrance, turning toward you carefully, “Also—I can’t pick you up so you’re gonna have to ask him for a ride. I love you.” She rambled it off in one breath, barely giving you time to process. “See you tomorrow?”

It’s the one fight you decide not to pick with her, because for some reason, you know it’s for your own good. 

“Hey—you made it!” The familiar voice calls from behind you—Eddie, guitar case in hand, the rest of his band mates in tow. “Red.” He acknowledges, offering her a nod. “There’s parking in the back.”

“Oh—I’m not staying,” She shouts from the driver’s side, “take care of her or I’ll murder you, Munson.” 

Max is pulling off before you have any last fleeting chance to run, leaving both you and Eddie at a loss for words.

“Pulled a fast one, didn’t she?” Eddie asks after a moment, gathering by your side, following you into the bar. “She’s sneaky as hell, I’ll give her that.” 

“Yeah, you could say that.” You huff softly, watching your step as you crossed the threshold, hit in the face with the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. 

“A beaut, isn’t she?” Eddie asks sarcastically, but despite that, the bar still garnered a decent amount of attention, packed to the brim with older gentlemen—nothing like bars near campus. 

“I think I found your target audience,” You joke lightly, catching the smirk that crosses Eddie’s face as you glance over your shoulder. “I’ll fit right in.” 

Eddie slaps a twenty into your hand, “Here, drinks on me—since I forced you here,” You look at him reluctantly, “I don’t want to hear it.” 

“I didn’t plan on drinking tonight.” You insist, forcing the bill back into his hand, “I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” He asks, eyeing you carefully, like he’s trying to find a hint or tell, something to figure out what exactly your mind was fighting against—which right now, it was the fact that Eddie looked ridiculous with eyeliner, yet, still criminally attractive.

It’s exactly why you shouldn’t have come tonight, because whatever could happen—you weren’t sure if you had it in you to shut down. 

You nod with finality. Eddie takes the money back reluctantly, stuffing it into his front pocket. He feels terrible that you have to sit there, alone—all to watch a shitty cover band play a few songs.

But to you, it was worth it. 

You sit and wait, forcing away the bartender a few times until he finally gets the message, leaving you be. It’s quiet, aside from the hum of laughter and idle conversation, Eddie and his group setting up silently onstage—that impending feeling in your gut expanding further as you watch him move around, guitar strap swung over his neck, watching shamelessly as he adjusts the instrument against his body. 

He catches your eyes then, sending you a cheeky smile that has you face burning on the spot—at this point, you care less about your professional relationship, if it could even be considered that. 

Eddie plays with all the gusto you expect, belting out lyric after lyric on his performance high; it’s unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed. It’s hard not to compare him to his classroom demeanor, more restrained and relaxed—it was forced, that was easy to tell. But this—this was Eddie, unafraid and free to behave how he pleased, it was unfair how attractive he was, both in looks and personality. It felt like you’d know him longer than just a few weeks; months maybe? Years? 

It was like hanging out with an old friend, discovering new and old things about one another; you’d spill your heart to him at a moment’s notice if he asked—and that’s why this felt so dangerous. 

☆.｡.:*

“How was it?” Eddie asks as he rounds the corner, still slightly out of breath and face covered in a sheen of sweat. You hand him a napkin in silence and he laughs, but accepts the offer.

“Good,” You smile honestly, “I really enjoyed the gradual crescendo from Holy Diver into Living After Midnight—“

Eddie could kiss you on the spot, which is such a startling thought that it stops all thinking completely—you were absolutely too good to be true, it was a constant reminder every time you spoke, making him fight with this taboo feeling more and more every day. 

“Do you still need a ride home?” He asks suddenly, interrupting your waterfall of compliments, “I was going to head out already.”

“Well, considering Max left me stranded,” You say with an empty bitterness, knowing that her attentions were mostly good, “yes, I do.” 

Eddie nods a silent direction—and just like the first night, you follow without question.

☆.｡.:*

The foot that isn’t pressed on the gas pedal is shaking insistently, leg bouncing against the leather of Eddie’s seat, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He can hear you humming, mumbling the song on the radio to yourself, another classic—one of Eddie’s favorites, and he really can’t help himself anymore. 

It was just a small, innocent indulgence. Who could it really hurt? You were both consenting, capable adults—and the worst thing you could do was turn him down, which Eddie really hoped wasn’t the case, but he was beyond caring about norms and rules, driven by the pure fact that he just wanted—wanted you, in any sense of the word. 

“What are you doing?” You ask curiously, watching as Eddie searched idly through his stack of music, somehow still managing his focus on the road.

“Changing the song,” He comments simply, pushing the disc into the player—the soft synth of the song pushing through the speakers of his van, “do you know it?”

“Corey Hart, right?” You ask, taking a wild guess. You’d only heard the song once, but it was still catchy enough that it stuck around in your brain, “I didn’t picture you as the type.”

“You’d be surprised.” He comments oddly, turning the volume up slightly. 

He notices the humming again, the small head bop along to the beat. “You like it.”

It’s more of a statement, rather than a question. You catch the side of his face, the small glint in his eye as he focuses back on the road.

“That's presumptuous of you,” You retort, hands twisting in your lap, “it’s alright, I guess.”

“Mind if I do a little study?” He asks hesitantly, breath catching in your throat for half a second.

“Of me?” You ask with a laugh, “I mean—if you want?”

“Your heart is racing, for one,” Eddie points out slyly, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest as the beat picked up, chorus running through the silence that filled the air, “and you’re squeezing your hands.”

“Okay, genius,” You remark, “You’ve got eyes, good for you.”

He’s not really using his degree in this situation, it’s more of an innocent observation of the already underlying tension that Eddie couldn’t help but notice—the obvious body language giving you away. The song was just a secret favorite of his, but you didn’t need to know that, not yet.

“Mind I make one?” You ask, “An observation, I mean.”

What was the harm in it anyways? Eddie nods for you to continue.

“You’ve been shaking your leg since we left.” You point out, the bouncing coming to an abrupt stop, “and I’ve never seen you do that—ever.” 

“It’s the after performance buzz.” He replies cooly, but you can’t be bothered to believe it. “It’s not that unusual.”

“Eddie—you’re making that up,” You tell him, eyeing burning into the side of his face, “what’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah—why are you lying?” It’s a bold question to ask, heart fluttering in your chest. But, the way he looks at you has your legs crossing in frustration, squeezing together to relieve that ache growing between your legs.

“So, you want to pretend I didn’t notice that either?” He asks, eyeing the full expanse of your body before stopping on your legs, still firmly crossed in the seat, hands white knuckling each other under the long sleeves of your shirt. “Uncross your legs.”

“What? No.” You scoff, offended by his forwardness for a brief moment. 

Eddie slips his hand under your knee wordlessly, prying your legs apart. You can’t help but look at him as if he’s lost his fucking mind—that doesn’t stop your legs from following his order. It made the ache that much worse.

“Don’t,” He warns hesitantly, the small shift in your leg giving you away, “it’s not gonna help.”

“Help what?” You reply dumbly, “I can’t cross my legs? Is that a crime?”

Eddie’s gaze lingers for far too long, noticing the flush of your chest and the way it creeps up your cheeks—they felt like they were on fire. In the midst of all the back and forth, it’s hard to keep focus on the main fact at play—teacher, student, your mind screaming, wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“I can help.” He makes a subtle nod toward you.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. You were very well aware of the issue. You want to weigh your options, come up with some stupid reason to wiggle out if the situation—but nothing comes to mind. The way Eddie’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel has you digging your nails into your own thigh—you’re going to cave, you can feel it. 

“Eddie.” You warn, watching as his hands lingers toward the gear shift, resting against the cracked and worn down plastic covering.

“Our secret, right?” He teases, like this whole situation wasn’t built on secrecy. You nod willingly, legs spreading a few inches wider. His fingers trail the seam of your jeans, stopping on the button, popping it open with deft fingers. “Move this way—yeah, there.” 

And when his fingers breach the seam of your underwear, your mind sings a soft praise of release, watching as his hand forces its way into the tight space, leaving him no other option but to cup your cunt with his full palm.

There was no turning back now. 

His middle finger drags through your folds testingly, matching the slow undulating beat of the song, like this was a game to him. You have no idea how to handle your hovering hands, too afraid to touch him, so they wrap around the headrest behind your head, fingers gripped tightly together.

Your legs spread wider, giving him better access—you were rutting into his hand at the shift of position, feeling that familiar tingle of pleasure as it shot through your body, mixed with the feeling of a bite of forbidden fruit, avoiding Eddie’s heated gaze as he shifted between you and the road.

It feels reckless and stupid, but you can’t find the courage to stop.

The first dip of his finger is like heaven, feeling unfamiliar after so long, despite how often you touched yourself, you couldn’t remember the last time there had ever been anyone else but you—not since the first summer after you graduated; freshly eighteen and naive, letting a much older man have you how he wanted—it’s uncanny, the situation your in now. But this, it doesn’t feel like that.

“Fuck—“ Your voice catches, stomach clenching at the curl of his middle finger as it slipped inside of you and back out, pace so insufferably slow, “—need more.”

“There she is,” He smiles to himself, confidence oozing in his tone, “—shit, you’re such a liar.”

It takes you a minute to realize that he’s not talking to you at all—which sends you down a different wave of emotions, pussy clenching around his lone finger, gasping at the way he curls it against the soft walls of your cunt, searching desperately for something out of reach.

“How long has it been like this?” He asks curiously.

Since the moment you met him, is what you want to say. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You reply breathlessly, back arching away from the seat, cunt pressing further against his hand as he slips a second finger inside.

At the lie, Eddie stops without warning, and it gives you a headache, that slow build of pleasure deflating immediately. 

“The truth,” He says, though, it’s more of a demand, “tell me.”

And fuck, if you weren’t putty in this man’s rough, calloused hands. 

“Since earlier,” You reply, rewarded with the soft brush of a fingertip over your clit, you quickly unzip your jeans to allow for more room, “when I saw you onstage.”

Eddie’s groan in response tells you everything you need to hear. He slows to a stop at a red light and it’s the first real glance you share with him the entire evening, both of you seeing straight through each other, bodies overran with pleasure. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” He says, and it seems a little late for a realization like that, you can’t help but laugh, “what—you think it’s funny?”

“You’re the one with your hand down my pants, sir.” You retort, earning a disciplined squeeze as he shoves his two middle most fingers back into your cunt, molding around him like glue.

“Sorry—I know you hate that word,” You say playfully, “But do you mind if I use it? Or, do you prefer professor?” 

It was your turn to play into the guilt he was feeling, though it didn’t seem to be concerning if he still had his hands shoved down your pants so willingly. 

“Shut up,” He forces out, swerving slightly at the way you cunt clenched around his fingers, insides fluttering as he curves his fingers wildly, grazing that sweet spot deep inside of you, “don’t call me that.”

His hands were larger than yours, making up for all the work you missed out on. 

“Too far?” You ask teasingly, knowing that was the least of your worries; all moral lines crossed, blurred, forgotten about entirely. Eddie’s fingers pull back to graze over the sensitive nub, rubbing in small, leisurely circles, “Fuck that—that feels—“

Your moan is so unashamed that it surprises you, hips bucking up into his hands as you nearly leapt out of the seat.

Eddie can’t take the suffering much longer, pulling off onto the winding side road, tucked into a nest of trees. He unbuckles his seatbelt, allowing fuller access as he turns toward you, switching his hands with practiced ease—you couldn’t even open your eyes, face drawn up in pleasure. You knew the moment you looked at him you were done for. 

“Look at me,” His voice echoes alongside the melodic tune of the song, his fingers matching the catchy beat—the damn music aficionado he was, toying with you, fingers strumming against your swollen clit like the strings of his guitar, “—I said, look at me.”

Your body works for you, eyes opening on instinct—his voice was rough, authoritative, leaving no room for argument. 

“Good girl—It’s what you wanted, right?” He asks with a semblance of a smirk on his face, “It’s why you came tonight?”

You laugh weakly at his words, double entendre, unable to go unnoticed, “As far as I’m concerned, no one’s came tonight.”

His eyes darken, shifting toward your cunt, covered by your clothes, his wrist poking out above the thin material of your underwear. 

“You can stop—stop acting like this is my fault,” You hiccup, gasping as he applies heavy pressure to your clit, rubbing steadily, hating how shameful it feels as your cunt clenches around nothing, wishing his fingers were still buried inside you. “Please—fuck, I just—“

All self restraint forgotten, you hand searches for his face, finding its way into his curls, pulling gently at the root, the softest hint of a grunt falling from his lips—the first noticeable sign all evening that he was even slightly affected by this—by you. 

And maybe you’ve gone too far, the idea of touching him is where things go wrong, but you can’t be bothered to hold yourself together anymore. 

“It’s okay,” He assures you, leaning over the middle console, hand working quickly against your cunt, moaning loudly into the confines of the car, ashamed at how wrecked you sound, “I like it.”

He must’ve noticed your expression, lingering on his face—you could do anything and he’d fall to his knees. 

“It hurts—“ You plead, begging for release, “—please?”

It sounds too pretty coming from you, deciding that putting you out of your misery was easier than watching you suffer, on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm, Eddie’s hands feeling so much better than your own, or anyone that’s touched you before. 

Your mouth hangs open on a wordless gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the force at which your high hits you, his fingers gently coaxing you through the descending pulse of your orgasm, near the point of over stimulation.

“Okayokay—“ You ramble, fingers wrapping around the length of his wrist as you pulled him away, heart skipping in your chest at the sight of his fingers flexing against your stomach as he pulls away, fingers covered in your wetness as a result of what just happened.

Your head rests against the back of the seat, chest heaving rapidly as you try to catch your breath. “Not that I’m complaining—“ Eddie’s voice pulls you out of your hypnosis, “but you might wanna let go.” 

“Shit—I’m sorry,” You apologize softly, letting go of his hair, looking at him sheepishly, hands returning to your lap to fix your pants. 

The song had ended long ago, the gentle rumble of the engine filling the quiet like an ambiance, realization settling between you both. 

Who speaks first? 

He’s quiet, wiping his hands on a black handkerchief that he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, before stuffing it into his back pocket—where it must’ve been all along. 

“I’m—“

“Should I—“

The stare you hold is long and tense, brimming with even more sexual tension than before, searching for some way to cope with whatever just happened. 

He glanced down at the hard bulge of his jeans, noticing the way your gaze catches. He shifts, pulling at the front of his jeans to adjust himself. “It’s fine.” He lies, not ready to allow this to go any further than it should have. 

“I don’t mind,” You reply slowly, voice hesitant as you lean forward, “I want to.”

He feels himself flex at the thought, the idea of your mouth—or even your hand, wrapped around, he was ruined. But, he’s insistent.

“I need to get you back to campus, right?” He asks, though the answer is obvious. It was a grasping at straw attempt to change the subject. “Red’s probably worried about you.”

Not a fucking chance.

“Yeah—you’re right.” You answer, trying to hide dejection, wanting nothing more than to touch him, as intimately as he had you. “We should go.”

It’s like he’s turning on his classroom demeanor before your eyes—and frankly, it’s ridiculous. He’s regretting every choice he just made and you know it, watching as he flips the gear into place, back on the road with one swift twist of the steering wheel. 

And it could’ve been the heat of the moment or the copious amount of drinks that Eddie had been offered that night, obscuring his rational thinking—but he didn’t reek of alcohol, not a single drop on his breath. So, if anything, it was regret, obvious and plastered over his entire face. 

But to Eddie, it's shame. 

Shame at the idea of breaking so many rules, risking his job at the hands of some young women—who he couldn’t help but be lured by, entranced at how much of an enigma you were. He couldn’t describe it, couldn’t even put it into words. 

And even after he drops you off that night, he comes in his hand, against the soft expanse of his stomach, the image of your face in his mind as you come apart by the work of his own hand. 

He knew there was no going back, allowing himself to fully succumb to the idea that if you were willing to let him have you like that, you’d let him do just about anything. 

It was exactly what you wanted. 

author's note: and an extra special thank you to @hellfirehoe for dealing with my nonstop horny thoughts about this and helping me proofread.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #my writing #1kfic #5kfic

[ashipiko]

—NIKO CIMARRON

All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆

—MORE UNDER CUT

BASIC INFORMATION:

Class: 2-A

Birthday: October 24

Height: 176cm

Dominant Hand: Right

From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands

Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)

Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Likes: Making a profit

Dislikes: Getting outsmarted

Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things

Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot

Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth

GALLERY:

VOICE CLAIM:

YUU’S INTERVIEW:

— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —

for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.

There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.

> You know what I’m here for, Niko.

> Why are you surprised?

No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…

It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡

> I think it matches your vibe.

> You’re one to talk.

Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.

…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.

> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.

> (…They’re cuter than expected.)

Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.

It’s about time to start though, huh?

> Yeah.

> No more wasting time.

INTERVIEW: START!

1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?

A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.

> No thanks.

> Why not?

They’re tasty, I prommie~.

2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?

Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.

3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?

Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.

If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?

Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.

4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?

Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.

If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.

5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?

Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!

> Not the focus of the question.

> That’s not…!

It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡

> Again, no thanks.

> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.

Keep me in mind~.

6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?

…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.

> You are annoying, but…

> (Would it be mean to say something?)

I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.

Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.

…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡

> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.

> Really, it’s fine, Niko…

Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡

Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?

> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.

> (That was a quick turnaround.)

…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.

INTERVIEW: END!

> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)

> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)

.

.

.

TRIVIA:

Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if this were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.

He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.

He can be considered a fan of Vil.

Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.

Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone making moves on him.

Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.

He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.

Niko feels very guilting for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.

Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.

Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have.

Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.

More to be added!

#niko cimarron #ashi’s ocs ♡ #twst oc #twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst yuu #UHH. UHHHH. TAGS #UHHHHHHHH #yeah I got nothing #I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY WIDDLE FOXY BOY

[eileenwdj]

my spidersonas! their names are Hong Zhizhu/Red Spider (real name Hong Huiran) and Zhizhu Dajun/Lord Spider (real name Xu Xia). they are connected with each other!

backstories, doodles, and other versions under the cut

their backstories:

Zhizhu Dajun (蜘蛛大君) / Lord Spider

Real name: Xu Xia (徐侠)

Born from a poor, commoner family, Xu Xia works in a wealthy noble family's home as a servant to the young master (his version of Harry Osborne probably ?) who allows him to tag along and shadow him during his studies

A god/immortal (whom we shall not name bc I can't think) messed around and accidentally cursed a bunch of animals. Some of these animals became monsters, some physically merged with unsuspecting humans, and some others granted powers to creatures they come across, like the spider that bit Xu Xia

Bro became this world's one and only Spiderman (yayy!!!) and lived the rest of his life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!)

A lot of people thought of him as a god or a powerful immortal due to his powers and started to build temples for him and worship him (he's not god, he's just some guy who happened to get bit by a spider)

He inevitably died during a great battle against a powerful enemy. Before he died, he vowed to not rest in peace until he finds a worthy successor to serve as protector and defeat the enemy (that is presumably immortal and can strike again at anytime) and he transfered his consciousness? soul? ghost self? idk tbh? to one of his spiders

Unfortunately bro is So Tired™️ that it took him several thousand years to wake up

Hong Zhizhu (红蜘蛛) / Red Spider

Real name: Hong Huiran (洪惠然)

She's a science & engineering geek but also a History major. She originally wanted to major in STEM but ended up with History because STEM majors are expensive as hell

The mysterious and reclusive Zhizhu Dajun is her thesis topic and she frequently visits the museum to look at his statues and displays

One of the displays is a taxidermed spider

It is also the exact same spider that Xu Xia transfered himself into when he died

Xu Xia has only recently managed to wake up but is still barely able to move his new body (I imagine it must be hard to move if your body is filled with cotton, RIP)

He was intrigued by Huiran when he noticed her visiting multiple times. He deems her worthy to be his successor and with the sheer power of (god and anime on his side) will, he escaped his display and bit her

Huiran becomes her world's (and her time's) one and only Spiderwoman (yayy!!) and lives life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!!)

But you see, the way the spiderbite works is that now Xu Xia is technically in Huiran's body... so... so..... it's like,, Asa and Yoru.........

Several thousand-year-old stoic ancient ghost man becomes mentor and father figure to reluctant 22-year-old history student with a science obsession running on 12 cups of coffee and zero sleep

Shenanigans ensue

another version of Zhizhu Dajun’s design:

these were his original colors before he broke. red seemed too happy a color for his path. he then permanently changed to white, forever mourning the lives he couldn't save. Huiran chose to adopt these colors instead of the white.

extra doodles:

#spidersona #art #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderverse #spiderman #spiderwoman #oc #original character

[asdfghjklmals]

LEARN TO LOVE✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. WORD COUNT: 1.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, boyfriend!gojo, adopedkiddos!megumi & tsumiki

SYNOPSIS: satoru brings home two kids for oc gojo girlfriend to raise with him without her knowing. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is how oc gojo girlfriend meets tsumiki and megumi for the first time. i try to keep as factual as possible with the manga/anime, but some details might slip through the cracks. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“gotcha! i’ll take care of things. you’re gonna have to work extra hard, i’m counting on ya,” the white haired sorcerer chirped at his newly kidnapped? adopted children.

“first things first kiddos, there’s someone i’d like you to meet.” satoru gojo chimed as megumi and tsumiki fushiguro backpacked their belongings to tokyo jujutsu high school with him.

“are we meeting someone important?” tsumiki curiously asked.

tsumiki fushiguro was a cheerful child who always had a smile on her face. she wore the cutest pink dress with ruffles. megumi glared into the distance as he followed behind them.

“absolutely. the most important person in my life!” satoru announced, grinning. he beamed with pride towards the kids, hiding the terror of the fact that he didn’t even tell you that he was bringing two kids home for you to help him raise.

tokyo jujutsu high: the girls' dorm

you were studying for the second years' final exam, something your boyfriend also should've been doing but he was off doing who knows what. just because jujutsu high wasn't a "traditional" high school, didn't mean you didn't deserve an education as well.

a familiar knock on your dorm room's door startled you out of your studying. it was none other than satoru gojo, you could tell just by the way he knocked on your door. you turned around from your desk as satoru opened the door and called out to you.

"(y/n), hey."

well, that sure got your attention. not even a greeting with a pet name?

"hi babe," you greeted him with suspicious eyes.

satoru had two kids with him. they were both carrying backpacks while satoru rolled two large suitcases next to your bed.

"who are these kiddos?"

you looked at the two children. there was a boy and a girl. they couldn't have been more than 8 years old. the boy had dark blue spikey hair and green eyes (he also looked miserable). the girl had a brown ponytail and a sweet smile on her face.

"they're our kids now", satoru looked at you and grinned.

this man had to be joking. they surely had to be his younger cousins you hadn't met before. however, you were pretty sure you met a majority of his family when you went back to visit the gojo clan over the summer break. and there was no way he was a father of two at 18 years old.

"hey you two, go on and sit down for a bit. i have to talk to miss (y/n) for a second."

the two children obediently sat down on your dorm room's floor. the girl took out some snacks and the boy took out a book. satoru grabbed your hand and led you to your bathroom, closing the door with haste.

"satoru, who are those kids? i want the truth, please." you sternly asked him, furrowing your brows in disconcertment. you used his first name in hopes that he would understand how serious you were.

"i'm taking them in." he shrugged nonchalantly.

"what? what do you mean you're taking them in? you're literally 18. you can't be a dad. you have to be joking." you looked at him in bewilderment.

you started to laugh in disbelief. you knew that satoru gojo said crazy shit, but this one took the cake.

satoru took off his sunglasses and grabbed your hands, pulling them close to his chest. he stared at you intently. you could tell he wasn't joking. he called you by your first name, which he rarely did. he preferred the sweet couple-y pet names.

"(y/n)." he said with the utmost seriousness.

"satoru." you replied back calmly.

"remember when i killed the man that almost killed me? toji fushiguro?" he said quietly.

how could you have forgotten?

you hated remembering that you almost lost him. it was terrifying and you'll never forget finding him on the school's front steps with a faint heartbeat, knocking at death's door. you did everything you could to heal him with reversed cursed energy while he tried using his own reversed cursed technique to heal himself. (read ‘the honored one’ here)

"that kid, the one with the blue hair. that's his son, (y/n). his father sold him to the zen'nin clan for money once he turns of age—which is 8 years old. he ran off with his wife once he got the money and never looked back." satoru explained the situation to you in hopes that you would understand.

"you mean... those two kids were abandoned?"

how could a parent do that to their child? you couldn't imagine how frightened they were.

"exactly. his father and the girl's mother ran off and left those two behind. they have no one, babe—and out of the goodness of my heart, i went to find them." he just had to input some self praise in there, it wouldn't be satoru gojo without it. you rolled your eyes at him.

"is it because you felt bad for killing his dad?" you whispered to him.

"i guess you can say that," satoru said with some guilt, "but because if they go to the zen'nin clan... they're going to hate it—especially tsumiki."

you knew there was bad blood between the gojo clan and the zen'nin clan, but also, the zen'nin clan prioritized blood ties and inherited techniques. women in that clan were treated horribly. if you didn't have a speck of cursed energy, living there was a nightmare. tsumiki would be tossed to the side and treated ruthlessly. you didn't even know the little girl, but something in your heart told you that you had to protect her.

"so this kid, since he's a zen'nin—is he going to be a jujutsu sorcerer?" you asked satoru.

he looked at you with calculating eyes, "i talked to the higher ups yesterday. i convinced them to stop the sell of the kid and that i'd take him in and raise him to be a jujutsu sorcerer. when he turns 15, he'll attend jujutsu high. they'll give me financial aid to raise both of them."

now, satoru gojo would not be in charge of their finances. that would be your job. with the way that man spends, he would bankrupt them.

"how do you even know he'll be able to see curses?"

there were so many questions you had, but so little time. the children were sitting literally outside the door, waiting for you and satoru.

"i just have a feeling that the kid will. i don't believe the girl will since she's not toji's biological daughter."

"how old are they, satoru?"

"the kid with the blue hair, his name is megumi. he's 5 years old. the girl that's with him is tsumiki. she's 6."

"and you, my 18 year old boyfriend, satoru gojo, are going to raise them?" you looked at him with skepticism.

"no baby, you're going to help me." he grinned at you.

"seriously?"

"you have what they say a 'motherly touch'. there's no way I can raise a girl, babe. who's gonna have the puberty talk with tsumiki? not me. you have to help me, please."

he grabbed your hands again and begged you with his stupid puppy dog cerulean blue eyes that you couldn't say no to.

you bit your lip in worry and looked at the door. could you and satoru really raise these two kids on your own?

you sighed and reluctantly replied, "fine. i'll help you."

satoru grabbed you by your waist and lifted you off the floor, twirling you around in a tight hug. he kissed your forehead.

"we can do this, babe. we can make the world a better place for these kids."

you hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek as you scratched the back of his undercut with your nails in comfort. you could feel satoru melt in your arms.

you understood how he felt and what he wanted to do for the future of the jujutsu world. he wanted to create a safe and fostering environment for the upcoming generation of jujutsu sorcerers. you supported his vision, and you would walk through the depths of hell with him just to help him achieve just that.

once you let go of him, he grabbed your hand with a cheeky smile. he opened the bathroom door and sat down on your bed, looking at the kids.

"sorry about that kiddos!" he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. the two kids looked up at you and satoru.

"hi, what are your names?" you crouched down at the two of them, hoping to get them to open up to you. you and satoru would be their guardians, so it was time to start building a relationship.

"my name is tsumiki," the young girl smiled cheerfully, "and his name is—"

"megumi", the younger fushiguro interrupted her.

"that's my little brother." she added.

megumi didn't make any eye contact with you. he just continued to chew his food and read his book. tsumiki was so cute and personable, and she chewed her food so happily—they were complete opposites.

"well, it's nice to meet you tsumiki and megumi." you gently said to them.

"nice to meet you too, (y/n)!" tsumiki chirped.

"megumi, you need to show some respect to your elders when they're talking to you. say hi to (y/n) at least. she's talking to you." satoru said with a sprinkle of annoyance.

he had told the two how important you were to him, so why wouldn't megumi give you the time of day?

"it's okay, babe." you patted his thigh. you gave your lover a soft smile.

you knew it would take some time for megumi to warm up to you. you sat down next to the two kids and your heart felt warm. you felt like you wanted to protect them, save them, make sure nothing bad ever happened to them. you watched as tsumiki tried to fix megumi's hair, but he would just push her hand away every time. he looked like he was going to be a pain in the ass.

with time, your new goal in life was to become a responsible guardian for these two kids. you wanted to make sure they grow up strong, independent, and honest. you were going to make sure that megumi and tsumiki learn to love you—and satoru, of course.

EXTRA:

"who's bed are they going to be sleeping in?" you asked satoru at dinner.

"why don't they sleep in your room for now? you're always sleeping in my bed anyways." he replied as he continued to chew his food.

"but my bed is bigger and more comfortable." you argued.

you had a custom king sized futon shipped from your hometown of osaka when you first started school here at tokyo jujutsu high. it paid to be from a big shot sorcerer family.

"well, they're not sleeping in mine."

"being a parent means that you have to compromise, satoru."

"we can figure it out tomorrow. how about i ask yaga-sensei if he'll give us an extra room for them?" satoru petitioned.

you glared at him and he just raised his eyebrows as if he didn't suggest something ridiculous. after your late dinner, you and satoru cleaned the shared dining hall and walked back to the girls' dorm where your room was. you opened your door to find megumi and tsumiki sleeping peacefully in your bed.

"i guess my bed is big enough for 3." you said quietly as you smiled at the sleeping children.

"what about 4?" satoru grinned.

read the next chapter ‘pinky promises’ here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

#jjk x reader #jjk x oc #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x oc #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x oc #gojo satoru x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo fanfic #tsumiki fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro fluff #gojo imagines #satoru gojo imagines #jjk imagines #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru imagines

[yet-another-haven-of-dollya]

can i ask advice ;; drawing wise ? how did you start to anatomy but also w stylization? did you bruteforce by studying every bone muscle etc in art school?

hmm...

First, you must distinguish between two completely different concepts: gesture and anatomy. The stylization and dynamic you often see me doing with my dancing practice is "Gesture". This is an excellent tutorial by Proko about gestures. I practiced gestures very soon when I started drawing, simply because I wanted to draw dynamically, lucky for me it was the right thing to do. This was the main reason why I'm so fast at sketching.

This is my gesture practice, 1 min, 2 min, and 5 min sketch. It's about the flow of the body and which direction each part is going, use "sharp and coherent lines". I practice until it becomes a "natural reflex", a habit when I look at people's interactions.

This below is something I drew 3 years ago (my anatomy was not good sorry), notice how I use many many coherent lines? At the thigh, shin, arm stretching,... all the bigger areas? That's the remaining of gestures.

It goes without saying. Try to find the flow of gestures, even for the hair or clothes. Heh, I drew this 4 years ago, how nostalgic.

You can see how I just create the flow with Lya's hair and body movement in the dancing pics too. Like with Kylar's pic her body is straight up one quite hard mass from head to toe. You know she's leaning forward, seemingly wanting to abandon Kylar with a "pathetic loser like you? With me?" attitude (ouchie sorry Kylar nation). While in Sydney's pic she seems much more relaxed and enjoys how her body parts seem to loosen and more in sync with Sydney's movements. Her hip and legs sway more, and her hair also sways back at Sydney's body, hinting that her moves are relatively close to his body. I don't think I have enough vocabulary to describe, gestures are always just "feelings" to me. If people see what I want to show, that's the success for me.

I know many self-learners started by finding random tutorials that have muscle breakdown or box-like proportions to try and mimic. Mimic is good, drawing is mimicking and remembering what you saw, but without good gesture practice, many people tend to make anatomy very stiff.

Then, you start to apply anatomy to the gestures you've practiced. One way to do it is by learning about muscle position first, and then trying to apply it to a figure, or a model. This is my homework and it's HORRIBLY WRONG IN MANY WAYS. My teacher fixed it for me but I don't have the after with me right now, so take this as an example of how to do the apply thing, DO NOT USE IT AS MUSCLE REF it's very wrong.

In my opinion bone structure is not strictly needed like muscles. Bones are for muscles to hang onto. You only need to remember some important "landmarks" like the collarbone, elbow joint, anterior pelvis, knee, and ankle,… to hang the important muscles to it. After you're familiar with muscles and gestures, you can start to stylize. Applying your knowledge to animated characters with cartoonish design is one great way. THESE HOMEWORKS OF MINE ARE STILL WRONG but ye hope you get the idea. I'm still struggling with anatomy.

One of my all-time fav are AFK ARENA artists and what they do for the game. Aki as the main artist, Kuri Huang, and another artist I suddenly forgor the name as home screen illust. I recommend researching their works if you want a direction on how to stylize your character with great dynamic gestures and shapes.

And

As much as I hate to say this, I was particularly considered a failure, a stone-head, who couldn't be changed for the better when I was still in art school - uni. My chosen major was digital graphic design, not specified in drawing but in designing, that's one thing I regret. I traded 5 years of my youth for doing the things I don't want to do. That's why the moment I graduated, I immediately went and signed up for an advanced art class specified in drawing. I'd be lying if I said the uni didn't teach me anything about drawing. They did, but almost everything I learned during 5 years of uni was self-learning from outer sources. I encourage self-learning the most when I talk with younger artists. Proko is a very trusted source to learn from, go to their YouTube channel, and you might figure out something too.

#dollya ask #not a drawing tutorial just my personal experiences

[alien-magnolia]

Mine and His <3

Fic Description: As a background type scientist, you aren’t very special in the world of Pandora. That changes, when you are noticed by Jake Sully, and fortunately, his rival, Colonel Quaritch. 18+ MDNI!!!

Tw: Implied non-con, power dynamics, dom-coded! Jake sully + Miles Quaritch, sub-coded hyperfem!reader, fingering, Jake/Quaritch talking down to reader/ bimbofication, ownership, major size kink bc human reader.

A/n: this turned out way longer than I thought, and I originally meant to post it on Christmas.its a bit hard for me to consistently post now. Anyways, merry belated Christmas/ holidays, and hope yall enjoy my first time bringing the very (hot) Miles Quaritch to life!! Don’t we love the balance between a young Jake Sully and an older Miles Quaritch <3 I am planning to make a part two with more intense smut! Stay tuned! (this was lacking a bit 😭) alsooo pls help a gorl out and reblog if you like this!!

The moon rose above you as you made your way to the forest, your mask in tow, and your boots. You were meeting Jake at the edge of the forest. He would not want you to venture in alone. Your tiny human form could not take it, as he would say. The Na’vi man was extremely possessive over you. The leaves rustled amongst the wind, bioluminescent crickets danced in the air.

You stand still as the ferns brush against your leg, wondering where your Jake was. You came to Pandora as a sort of background character — always behind the scenes, never noticed, usually brushed to the side. You were apart of the anthropological and religion team, researching and observing Na’vi culture, religion, and social relations and norms.

Every morning, you rose from your cold, metallic, cot, put on your oxygen mask, and worked at the lab from 8-5. Sometimes you would be invited into the community to learn, yet you never lingered around too long. The other scientists were more fluent in Na’vi than you were, and so, they would make a better impression.

It was only until one night, where the half-moon rose and shone over the sky, swirled as if it was cotton candy, was the night where you became noticed. You, made an impression.

~ Three months ago ~

You stayed to observe a Na’vi ritual, one called the “Sun Dance,” where one ingests a hallucinogenic worm in order to have a vision of their fate for the future, their destiny. This ritual served to breach the gap between the sacred and the normal, the ordinary, to alter reality in which a religion exists everywhere — not only in a book or a house. This was Na’vi religion — Animism.

You enjoyed the ritual and truly felt that you were starting to grow connected with the community. However, you were still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, and accidentally happened to wander onto a slippery log — that also acted as a bridge for a deep canyon below. Your tiny human feet stumbled across the bridge, and then slipped. You landed on your stomach, then realizing the vast canyon below — and that you would face sudden death if you were to drop into it. You screamed out in pain as a branch pierced your leg. You hear heavy steps behind you, you pass out.

You wake up beneath a bioluminescent large plant, with its long tendrils gently swaying over your face. You feel something on your leg, and look to see quite a handsome Na’vi man tending to your thigh, which had a large scrape on it.

“Hey. You’re awake. Almost fell there, girl.” You study his features a bit more. His hair is long, black, his eyes a deep yellow. Chiseled jaw, veiny arms, and wide shoulders <3 adorned with an interesting necklace. You muster the courage to speak to this beautiful man in front of you.

“Yes, I — um, sorry. I should have been more careful. I’m still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, although I’ve done many studies here,” you explain to him. “S’alright. I can take you back to your home base, if ya like,” the man offers, his tail swishing a bit. He must have been excited to talk to you. You blush at the note of attention from him, and agree.

The two of you begin walking back, the Na’vi man stopping momentarily to make sure there were no creatures of harm nearby. You learned his name was Jake. Jake Sully. You watch his long braid sway from side to side, like a pendulum, as you walk behind him. The two of you have been talking, sharing your stories, your journeys, what brought the two of you to Pandora, respectively.

“Was a marine, when I first came here. I was trying to pay for my surgery, to well — get my legs back. M’sure you know, the RDA loves screwing everyone over. ‘Specially me,” Jake explained to you, as he led you through the dark, softly glowing canopy of trees.

“So you weren’t very good at school, then, I assume,” you snicker, trying to poke a bit of fun at him. “And you are?,” he retorts back, emitting a deep hearty laugh, a sound you liked. “I do have a PhD, yes,” you giggle a bit as you look to see his reaction. He only huffs, yet you swore you could see a little smile behind that stoic face of his.

The two of you continued to walk back and engage in this somewhat flirtatious banter. He led you back to your lab, wishing you a goodnight.

“Jake, wait,” you touch his arm as he was about to leave, and he flinched, his ears folding back. He turns to you. “I would want to see you again. It would be nice, I think,” you offer, hoping he would take the initiative. “Hmm. Doubt it. You stay safe, miss PhD,” he retorts, and runs off into the forest.

Yet you wouldn’t take his “doubt it” for an answer.

The following night, you ventured again into the forest, hoping to find him. You might as well take a few pictures, hoping to find your way into the Omaticaya village. You did not find your way there, and instead ended up running into a few creatures. Jake saw, luckily, and saved your “prissy lil’ self” (as he called it) again.

Nights with Jake became a regular occasion. Although you and him had more of a fair share of differences, you found it to be true, that opposites attract.

————

~ Present Day ~

You smiled as you remembered how you first met him. The two of you only went on ‘dates’ together, where he would show you an interesting place he liked in the forest, or take you on a ride on his ikran. Nothing more, just conversation.

Yet, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted him. In a way that surpasses conversations or dates. You really had hoped that tonight, you could go further.

Everything about him was just perfect. His shining eyes, his strong arms, his beautiful voice that made you feel so safe <3.

You hear his footsteps behind you. “Babygirl. How’s my favorite scientist doing?,” he chuckles, his big hands gently gripping your face, giving you a kiss on top of your head. “Good,” you giggle, reaching up to give him a hug. You always have felt so safe in his arms.

“Where are we off to tonight?,” you curiously poke at him as he leads you over a bridge — the both of you hearing the gentle splash of the pond below. “You’ll see, hun. Somewhere real special,” he reassures. Where could this place be? How exactly could you get here, to be spending time with this beautiful Na’vi man, who possibly could be yours??

The anticipation was simply too much to handle. “Wanted t’a bring ya here, to ask somethin’. Was thinkin’ you see, that you could become a true member of the Omaticaya. Pass all our tests and all,” he says, while you lean your head on his shoulder.

You think on it for a bit. “But why, Jake? It would mean that I need a Na’vi body…,” you trail off. “Exactly. Ever since the day I met you, sweetie, I wanted you to be mine. You’re just too goddamn adorable for your own good,” he chuckles. “Can’t make you mine though, officially, without you becoming a tuté (woman) of our people. You will prove yourself to the Tsahik. We will mate, then. For life. You’ll be mine, girl,” he smiles warmly at you.

You agreed, overwhelmed with happiness!! “My Jake, why can’t we mate now?,” you ask, although as a Pandoran anthropologist, you knew the answer. Your human body was no match for his Na’vi strength. If you were to mate now, not only would it be against Omaticaya customs, his sheer power would most likely kill you!!

“Thought you knew the answer there, Miss PhD,” he teases. “How’s about this. I give you a little taste of what’s to come if you join the people of the forest,” his voice shifts to a deeper tone, his eyes a bit hooded now.

A large blue hand the size of your head gently grips your face, turning you towards him. His soft lips plant a few kisses on the top of your head, moving down to your neck. All of a sudden, your oxygen mask gets a little too hot for your face <3 your heartbeat quickens as well.

“Jake…I’d love nothing more than to join the Omaticaya,” you pant, in between breaths as he continues his ministrations. “That’s my good girl. See if those scientists of yours can make you an avatar. Want you to be mine,” he purrs, with a bit of a darker undertone as his large hands squeeze and grope the plush curves of your body — to the point where it’s painful.

You pant and squeal as his fingers trace patterns on your soft tummy, his large face planting a few kisses there as well. “Love this human body, babygirl. Bet your Na’vi one would be even better…,” he praises you. <3

His fingers were getting lower and lower, tracing circles on the hem of your waistband. “Jake…,” you pant out. “Want you…,” a cry, a plea for help. You had no idea how intense your fervor was for him, until now.

“Can’t give you all of me, hun. You can’t take me yet, m’ too big for you. Don’t want ta hurt your pretty little body,” he chastised you, his yellow eyes full of concern.

Just about when you were to agree, to let him give you a taste, that taste that you’ve been waiting for, that taste that your heart (and other parts of you) ached for, the two of you heard a rustling behind, in the bushes.

Out step two steel toed boots, a blue RDA uniform. At first you thought it was someone human — you were surprised to see that it was a Na’vi man wearing the suit. You quickly try to hide, using Jake’s wide chest as a safe haven.

Jake’s eyes burn with rage, disgust. His ears fold back, a low growl escapes his throat, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.

“Miss me, corporal?”

This man had a smug way of expressing himself, hands on his hips. He looked to be a bit older than Jake.

“Forgot about our agreement, all those years ago, Sully?” Jake hissed in response, telling this man, whom he called ‘Quaritch,’ to kindly fuck off.

Quaritch, a man of his word, did not take this as an answer, and continued to move closer.

Until he saw you. He stopped. “Whose this you’ve got here, corporal?” Jake hisses again, standing up this time to shield you from Quaritch. “Leave her out of this,” his tone low, possessive, angry.

“Why don’t you come on out, cupcake?,” his eyes turn towards you. Just like your Jake’s, you saw that they were full of lust, hunger. No affection, though. They were cold, empty. This man was attractive — yes, yet something about him felt off.

Jake reassures you that you don’t have to do it — until Quaritch himself pulls you out from behind Jake’s back. Quaritch circles you, tutting, eyebrows raised.

He turns to Jake. “Got yerself a sweet little toy, huh, Sully? My, my, she’s quite a looker,” Quaritch comments, his voice sickeningly sweet, as his large blue hand plays with your hair. Jake was fuming — ready to start a fight with the man. It was clear that the two had a past rivalry, and never made amends.

It was also clear that the two wanted you.

“How’s about this, corporal? Your little girl here, could very well seal our agreement, don’t ya think?,” he taunts Jake.

“She’s mine, Quaritch. Don’t even think about it.” Quaritch then retorted that it was either this, or his rifle. Jake then agreed.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Sully. She’ll be ours, to share, won’t ya, cupcake? How’s about I show you how we do things where I’m from, hmm?,” his southern accent cooing at you goes straight to your core, between your legs.

You glance at Jake, hesitantly watching. Quaritch then sits down, his giant arms pulling you into his lap, one hand behind your head, the other on your hip.

“Such a pretty girl. Gonna give you something to feel good about,” he chuckles, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his fangs slightly biting into your shoulder as you gasp!!

Jake is infuriated, still watching from the side, although he looks like he is enjoying watching you get ravished by the older Na’vi. Quaritch’s soft lips trail down your soft tummy and waistline, your small hand intertwined with his rough, calloused one.

His fingers trail your waistband — realizing that Jake already pulled off your clothes — your wetness soaked his thigh. <3

“Aww. How cute, pussy’s all soaked f’me. I think I know what she wants,” he taunts you, showing you his big fingers, almost the length of your arm. <3

You nod vigorously, completely forgetting about Jake. “Yes. Please, please, anything,” you beg him. “How’s about you call me sir, hmm, sweet cheeks? More fittin’, don’t’cha think?,” his southern voice drips as if it were melted caramel, seeping through to your inner submission to these beautiful, tall, men.

You were their toy, theirs to own, theirs to play with, theirs to use as they please and see fit. That’s all you could think about, as your tongue hung out, your eyes closed, small hand gripping the watch on Quaritch’s hand, as his two fingers worked and massaged your gummy walls over and over.

You thought of belonging to the two Na’vi men, passed around from the loving arms of your soon to be mate, to the vicious and unrelenting force that was Miles Quaritch, your ‘sir.’ For these two men, you were fine with leaving your life as a scientist behind, just to trail them around.

You were giddy with the thought of it, as you came undone around Quaritch’s fingers, his reassuring words, “let go f’me, cupcake…,” and Jake’s hands behind you, rubbing the small of your back, this was a taste of a life you never knew you wanted.

Now that you had this taste, you were ready to risk it all to keep this.

You fall asleep in Jake’s arms, as Quaritch bids him a ‘till next time,” and your soon to be mate is left wondering what that phrase entails.

Avatar taglist: @aerangi @jake-sullys-whore @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @brioffthegrid

#liz’s masterlist #avatar smut #quaritch smut #jake sully x fem!reader #quaritch x reader #quaritch x oc #quaritch x y/n #dom!quaritch #dom!jake sully #avatar sully quaritch x you #jake sully fluff #jake sully smut #dilf jake sully #dilf quaritch #liz writes 🖤

[alpacinoinheat]

Info about my Goncharov characters

The story takes place in Prague, Naples and New York

Some info about Goncho and Andrey:

So Goncharov is the main protagonist of the story. Not much is known about him, his origin is very mysterious but it is later revealed the crime boss Andrey had his whole family murdered for owing him money and Goncharov is of polish-italian origin (I'm not sure what I want his real name to be yet). In the story Andrey is about 10 years older than Goncho in order for this to work, the actors are the same age but the eyepatch ages Andrey up so it works. Murdering Goncho’s family was one of Andrey’s first things he did after his rise to power. And so basically the story is about revenge. Andrey is half czech and half italian and he operates from Naples but his crime ring works all over the world.

If you asked Andrey how he gained all his wealth and power, he would tell you it was through hard work and that he came from virtually nothing. That's a lie as his family was very well off. The extend of his wealth can be also attributed to all the blackmails, murders, abductions, frauds, thefts and other crimes he and his crime ring commited. Maybe these are the things that constitute as "hard work" to Andrey. Andrey is also a classist and something of an ethnonationalist as he often refers to himself as full blooded italian and rarely admits his half slavic origin.

Here’s some info about Katya and Goncho’s relationship from other ask (some info about Sofia too):

In my own lore, Katya is very much in love with Goncharov but is also tempted by Sofia. To Katya, Goncharov and Sofia also represent two very different ways of living. Goncho is a smuggler but an honest one and Sofia works for her boss Andrey’s crime ring. Being with Goncharov means living a dangerous life on the run but somewhere down the line there is a possibility of settling down and living life through honest means. Being with Sofia means choosing a simpler, cushier life, a life of luxury but it also means being forever part of the crime world. Who will she choose? I don’t know and neither does Katya :)

Also, I’m toying with the idea of Katya being married to Goncho (simply becasue I tagged her as Katya Goncharova a couple of times lol) but I don’t know yet :))

Info about Mario and Ice Pick Joe:

Mario and Ice Pick Joe grew up together in Sicily and were both very poor. They are not related but share somewhat of a brotherly bond. Joe’s darker side started to show from a very early age. He loved to kill and dissect small animals which sometimes freaked up Mario (although he never judged him for his impulses). Joe also talked about joining mafia from an early age, it seemed like a natural thing to do. He never imagined himself as anything else than a criminal. Mario is academically very smart. Joe often said to him that someone this smart could go study and make something of himself through honest job. But Mario was a very cynical person from an early age and thought that the only way people like them can escape poverty is through dishonest means. Also, Joe is just a joy to be around (if you’re not the animal or a person he’s dissecting), he’s funny, great cook, loves music, unassuming but charismatic. And it’s not just a front, he really is like that, he has two sides, one of them is very dark. Mario, as smart as he is, lacks the charisma and is aware of that. He is brooding and sulking and cynical. Lacks the social capital ... and friends (except for Joe of course). He also likes to go to casinos and gamble, not because he needs the money, but he likes winning and he likes the fact that other people’s social status can’t help them there. He’d never admit this to you but he secretly wants friends and wants to be liked but he is just so goddamn unlikable to the majority of people that no amount of wealth can help him with that. Mario was also always ashamed of his humble origin. When the two of them joined the crime world, they joined Andrey’s crime ring. Joe is very loyal to Andrey because he sees him as someone who gave him a chance and saved him from poverty. Joe became Andrey’s best hitman and is free to act on his darkest impulses. Mario became Andrey’s accountant, handling money. But unlike Joe, Mario resents Andrey because Andrey is a big classist and often and not so subtly lets Mario know that he would be nothing without him. In the story, Mario befriends Goncharov (the met in a casino) and will have to decide whether he betrays his boss or not. And will he be able to convince his best friend Joe to work against a man he is very loyal to?

The Naples side of my story is probably my most developed part as of now. I still don’t have everything figured out.

How Ice Pick Joe got his nickname:

Ice Pick Joe's favorite weapon of choice actually isn't an ice pick, despite many people assuming that's the case. He doesn't have a favorite weapon or a torture method. He likes them all. His nickname refers to one specific event that took place shortly after after he joined Andrey's crime ring. One of Andrey's highest ranking lieutenants was suspected of stealing money and giving up information to a rival crime lord. He was subjected to many hours of interogation and torture but still he would not confess. Then Joe asked to try. The only thing he took to the room with him was in ice pick. Nobody really knows what happened in there but it took less than 15 minutes for the lieutenant to confess how much he stole and what information he gave up. Andrey then used this information and destroyed the rival crime lord. This event prompted Joe Morelli to gain an immense amount of respect within the crime ring and ever since that day everyone called him Ice Pick Joe.

Info about Katya and her brother Valery:

Katya and her older brother Valery were born in Moscow but moved to Moldova after Katya's birth. Their moldavian mother died during Katya's birth and their russian father was very abusive but mostly absent. Valery is 20 years older than Katya and he basically raised her on his own.  Valery became a high ranking officer in the militsiya (soviet police) at quite an early age, mostly due to his efficiency. He soon became disillusioned by the brutal soviet regime and defected to the USA, searching for a better life for him and Katya. He became a weapon smuggler and that's how he and Katya met Goncharov. Valery and Goncharov fell out during an event where Valery thought Goncharov had betayed him after a heist gone wrong (he didn't betray him, it was misunderstanding). He also hates Goncharov because Katya fell in love with him and choose to leave with him.

Info about Mario and Goncharov:

As for their relationship, Goncharov meets Mario in a casino in Italy and befriends him only to infiltrate Andrey’s crime ring (to revenge his murdered family). But as time goes on, Mario notices all the inconsistencies in Goncharov’s cover story and figures out he’s not who he says he is. Meanwhile, Goncharov really starts to consider Mario his friend and almost feels sorry for lying to him. At some point, Goncharov tells Mario the truth about who he is, even tells him his real name (the only other person who knows his name is Katya). It will be up to Mario to decide whether he betrays his boss and helps his new friend to revenge his family.

#how autistic of me to write this #goncharov

[angelofacidx]

Self indulgent drabble

Dark! Soap x reader

CW: Alcohol use, gaslighting, cnc.

Local shitty dive bars around whatever base he’d been stationed at became almost a second home to Johnny. He liked the predictability, the dinginess, and the burn in his chest of the night’s pick of the poison. The entertainment was nice too, a few pretty girls to bed later or a brawl started between two intoxicated sweaty men. What more could he want?

Soap wasn’t used to big cities. Scratch that. Big American cities. He found himself right at the heart of one after a mission involving some high profile bastard, rather easy to hunt down and giving him time to kill. After all was said and done his hotel room was still paid for and his flight back to base didn’t leave for another two days. A quick google search of the area brought up more bars than he’d ever seen in his life with a myriad of pretentious names and neon banners.

It wasn’t long until Johnny found himself standing outside between two crimson velvet ropes in a line full of people and dressed down in his civvies. The music vibrated the walls loud enough to seep outside, the bass of some shitty Sean Paul song already setting the prescient for the night. He had half a mind to try another place until your form burned itself into his brain. A short black glittery dress, the hem ending just below the swell of your ass. Long lithe legs and calves flexed from being stilted on black heels. Fuck, you were a vision.

Eavesdropping on your conversation let him know you were already tipsy, one of your friends calling you “Sooooo crazzzyyyy tee hee” for killing off the last of her Tito’s before the group had left the house. It was apparent the more he soaked you in, the glossy eyes and slightly mussed hair. The way you stumbled slightly on your heels just standing like a foal taking its first steps. Johnny could work with this.

He stalked behind your group for an hour or so, watching the drinks flow and your inhibitions slipping further and further. The DJ in this place knew how to work girls your age. The trashy Y2K dance music and alcohol made your hips sway in circles as you held onto your friends shoulders and half screamed lyrics at each other. The ministration held his attention, making his eye twitch slightly and his brain short circuit. He wondered if you could ride cock like that.

He gets the courage to approach you then, tapping your shoulder and taking you out of your trance as you turned to face him. His eyes drifted from your face to your tits for a moment before refocusing back to your eyes. Behave, Johnny.

“Hey! It’s been so long since I seen ye! Jason’s mate.” Johnny said with a big smile, his eyes trustworthy as he prayed to god the generic American name would make a connection somewhere in your brain for him to prey on.

He watched you study his face in silence, trying to place him but the alcohol doing no favors to jog your memory.

“Wait. Bri’s ex Jason or Jason from the frat?” You slurred, eyes still scanning his face and figure.

“Bri’s ex. Can’t believe I ran into ye here.” He said with an assured nod, reaching out to hug you.

Your breasts squished against his chest in the hug, arms wrapped around your lower back and he was practically foaming at the mouth restraining himself from grabbing your ass. He let go of the hug begrudgingly but smiled with teeth bared when you handed him an extra shot your friend has ordered.

Holy shit. It was that easy. He was in.

As the two of you talked about “Jason”, your job, his “finance major”, and everything in between he fed you drink after drink. Your words and thoughts became less coherent—not like they were to begin with, the aforementioned pregame hit you hard. Your body leaned against him as you danced, your ass grinding into the hard bulge at the apex of his jeans, earning a deep growl.

He wanted to bend you over then and there, grab the soft flesh of your hips and rut into you like an animal in front of God and everybody in that bar. His restraint wore thin with another push of your ass against him, a whine rising to his throat. He took out his phone then, calling an Uber for the two of you.

You were clearly trashed, a potential safety risk to yourself he told your shitty friends. Let him take you back to your house, he’ll even text them when you arrive safely. He knows where you live. He’s Jason’s friend and they can trust him, so they do. With a hand on your lower back ass, he guides you outside to the curb and tracks down the Uber, opening the door for you.

…

The morning light is absolutely blinding. You feel disgusting and sweaty, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Your arm reaches for your bed side table where you pray your phone is only to be met with air. Huh?

You sit up quickly, your head throbbing as you do. Your eyes open slowly and your surroundings are completely unfamiliar. A hotel? You attempt to get out of bed but the pounding in your head and your cunt stop you, muscles betraying you and your throat letting out a guttural groan.

A man steps out from the bathroom then, white towel around his waist and dark hair sopping wet. His face brings back memories of last night; the club, the dancing, getting fingered in the uber, being folded in half as he begged to cum in you even though you told him you weren’t on any contraceptives. That seemed to make him blow his load immediately.

But now with his face clearer than before you can see he is not Jason’s friend.

“Who the fuck…?” You trail off, pulling the blanket over yourself for some form of modest.

“Johnny. Real pleasure to meet ye.” He says with a shit eating grin, moving towards you with the same animalistic look in his eye that he had last night.

#john soap mactavish #cod x reader #soap x reader #cod #cod mw2 #soap #dark k!nk

[thirdnap]

Hello,

Here is the life update of my past 4 years.

I began this blog many years ago in 2012 when I was only 14 years old, and I then slowly gained the courage to start posting art at 17 when I joined the K fandom. It's wild to think that I am now 25!

I was never quite consistent in posting since I only shared my art here whenever I felt like it, but it slowed down ever so gradually to basically 1 post a year for Yata’s birthday. This blog helped me with my fear of showing my art to others as I was incredibly embarrassed of my work for a really long time.

I soon moved to the USA from my homeland and attended animation school for 1 year, and then studied illustration and visual development for 4 years and I managed to accomplish many things I never could have imagined. I graduated with honors this past May, was selected by the faculty and head of department as my major’s trustee scholar, completed my 84-page art book thesis, got a few pieces into the Society of Illustrators, and my school even shot a mini docu-film about me, my art and my life where I got to share my upbringing. Art school was very demanding and at times tough but I managed to get a lot out of it :)

In July of this year, I moved to California from Florida and I’m much happier than I’ve ever been. I come from a very small country so I never expected to get this far in the art world. I drew Yata for fun in my bedroom whenever I wanted to and now I’m in LA breaking into the animation industry (receiving my first credit too!)

the drawings I share here are a very very small part of the illustrations I make weekly. I wish I could share them with everyone as I’m very proud of them but I enjoy separating my fandom life from my real life a little too much! Surprisingly I am working as a background artist at the moment despite never drawing backgrounds in this blog lol. I think many of you would be surprised at how different my work is from irl!!

It hasn’t always been great, so I don't want to make it seem like it's been all perfect. I’ve had many hard times too and at the moment I am extremely homesick since I haven't returned home in a long time but I think these are needed sacrifices.

However, I'm excited for 2024. I'm looking forward to growing as an artist and my goal is to continue to have fun with art as much as I have right now. I think I’m lucky to have a great support system including my best friend @fuurais who has been by my side for 10+ years and I managed to convert into a K artist too <3

Thank you for the support, for the kind messages, and for the excitement every time I post. I am always happy when I think of this blog and the friends I made. I unironically think about Yata every day as he is past being my comfort character tbh. I am currently writing this with full-on orange hair that I've had for a few years now lol.

I don’t think I’ll be as active as I was at 17 but I will try to not ghost this blog completely. There are a lot of things I haven’t drawn yet that I really want to do and I'd love to share those drawings with everyone.

Lots of love -

Tael <3

#k project #project k #yata misaki #misaki yata

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Red Dead Redemption 2 College AU !

I'm ignoring reqs for a bit to indulge in my own thoughts and ideas and write some hcs for my college au on what i think their majors/lives as students/professors would be like, ahem... Long post ahead. Also this isn't too well thought out as of now, just wrote down some fun thoughts. Plz tell me your own headcannons

Arthur Morgan - Fine Arts

THE MOST UNEXPECTED MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE HIM. He's the guy who's seen around campus wearing leather jackets, riding his motorcycle, brooding over a cup of coffee while he stares off aimlessly into the sky. So imagine him walking into your visual arts class with some of the most beautiful drawings you've ever seen. Has his own apartment near campus and his roommate is Charles. Entire place is littered with sketches and art supplies and billions of projects. His hands are constantly stained with charcoal. Takes his major VERY seriously, he don't play about his drawings and paintings. Works at a college bar and constantly comes home with a new story. Frequently visits John and the others after joining the frat, especially when they have parties. Never misses out on those. Became friends with Lenny through these parties.

John Marston - Civil Engineering

Probably one of the most miserable engineering majors you'll ever see. And that's only because he doesn't stress out over his work and procrastinates like he hasn't a care in the world; seemingly forgets he's in college. That is until the deadline is 11:59 PM that night and he has to cram two weeks worth of assignments into one night. Complains about heart palpitations when the area surrounding his desk is littered with energy cans. Joined a fraternity as soon as possible and lives in the housing. Party animal, drinks on weekdays with Sean and Javier. Throws absolute ragers on the weekends. Is the guy to yell "IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THIS FRAT, THEN GET THE FUCK OUT" before turning to you and asking if you had fun. Has missed his 9 AM several times because he either slept in or is hung over. Was probably community dick for a while. Works at McDonald's part time, people genuinely don't know how he handles the stress. 60% of his paycheck goes to liquor/alcohol.

Javier Escuella - Music Theory

PASSIONATE about his major. HE DON'T PLAY ABOUT HIS MUSIC. But I can totally see him as the type of dude to sit around on the campus lawn with a guitar as a group of girls surrounds him and listens to him play. Is in the frat with John and lives in it as well. Also plays his guitar at parties with girls surrounding him, starkly contrasting the EDM and house music in the background. Shows up to class regardless of hangovers, he is very serious about his education. As serious as he is about partying. Shows up to class fitted every single time. Probably has outfit changes between classes. Type of guy to have his fits laid out next to his bed. He does the most. Was also probably community dick. Works as a cook at a restaurant, constantly flirts with you there. Gets all giddy in the kitchen with his coworkers when he manages to make you giggle.

Charles Smith - Anthropology

It's him and his laptop against the world. He's super neat, everything in one place. Any papers he gets are all neatly kept away and categorized per class. Is hard at work on writing an ethnography and is frequently out and about for observations. If he's not out then he's at home working on assignments. Also a frat member but like I said, rooms with Arthur. Has gained the quiet serious type reputation in class but once you start talking to him discover he's very friendly and nice. Probably works on campus as a student ambassador. Is very involved with school and activities; runs an enviornmental sciences club. Dedicates several hours a night to studying/working on assignments. Amazing student all around. The way he has his life together is enviable.

Kieran Duffy - Equine Studies

LITERALLY PERFECT MAJOR FOR HIM. Literally the happiest student around, his classroom is the stables. Works at the stables as well. Just spends 99% of his time at the stables so catching him outside of there is nearly impossible. Gossips to the horses and tells them about his day. I feel like he'd fall behind in his other studies though because he'd be way too focused on the horses. Typical, struggling student. Joined a frat out of pressure, got the WORST of the hazing. I don't even want to begin to imagine what the rituals were like. Probably gets black out drunk at frat parties, ends up on the front lawn and wakes up half naked every weekend somehow.

Sean Macguire - Business Administration

He's just insufferable like that. Whenever people shit on his major he just finds a thousand bullshit reasons as to why his major is better and more lucrative. Complains to John how hard his homework is and when John asks to see his screen it's addition with pictures. Probably went to college to party and realized "oh shit I actually gotta do school". Googled the highest paying and easiest majors and chose it like that. Puts more thought into what beer he's going to buy at the liquor store than his studies. Hotboxes his car 24/7. His room REEKS of weed and so does he. Attempts to disguise it with ax body spray. Will always ask you if you want to wake and bake; regardless of if you do or don't accept he's showing up to class high and with sunglasses. Goes nonverbal when he greens out. Works at McDonald's with John, is constantly late and is warned he might get fired but never does. Just fucks around in the back. I can imagine he and Karen are constantly on and off but when they're off he brings a new girl home to the frat every night.

Lenny Summers - Literature Major

Joined the frat because he thought he'd make good connections (LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER). One of the youngest pledges, went easier on him with the hazing. He's incredibly focused on his studies. You'd be surprised to find out he's a party animal as well because he's constantly reading a book in his free time. Definitely joined a book club with Mary-Beth and is taking Dutch's English class. Works on campus as well as the library; prides himself on his work and education. I believe he'd dorm because there's no way he's living in that filthy frat. Super organized dorm. Became really good friends with Arthur during one of the parties, also became close with Sean. Frequently gets driven around by Sean and gets second hand high from being in his car.

Bill Williamson - Army

Out of everyone he went to the army instead of college. But he definitely still hangs with the frat when he can simply because he's friends with a few of them. Frequently buys them liquor and supplies it to the younger members. Asks them how their classes are going and ends up falling into a rabbit hole where he's learning about infrastructure planning or astrophysics and tries his hand at doing their homework for them. It goes terribly. Drives a beat up pickup truck and you can hear that mf coming down the road 3 blocks away. Subtly tries (and fails) at flirting with some of the frat members.

Micah Bell - Criminal Law Major

Insufferable. Need I say more. Very money centric. Definitely thinks he's better than you because he's a law student. Kisses the professors’ ass all the time. Joins study groups and acts as if he's the smartest one there, tries to lead conversations, and views it as a challenge if anyone says differently than him during said discussions. He probably has an internship at a firm. Oh my god I can just imagine how sleazy he is. Also part of the frat and several of the members do not like him. Harasses the girls that show up. I can see him cutting off people during class or talking over them. Type of guy to say "not to be devil's advocate, but..."

Pearson - Culinary Degree

Came back to school to get his culinary degree. Mostly keeps to himself but has become acquainted with a few people and is actually decent friends with some. Pretty serious about his studies but is also chill, you can just tell he's extremely passionate about what he does. Excuses himself from hangouts by saying "sorry I got a pie due at 3." Loves it when he's able to sell some of his products back to students/general public and see how people react. Dreams of opening his own restaurant so he takes the accounting/marketing aspects of his degree very seriously.

Abigail Roberts - Education Major

I CAN JUST SEE IT YK. I can totally see her being a teacher, and she's super hardworking. I feel like her schedule is jam packed so she hardly ever has time for fun. Studies, does homework, student teaching, and takes care of herself and her son. So yeah imagine how busy she is all the time. Occasionally leaves Jack with his grandparents for a night of fun but that is few and far in between. Joined a sorority for support but wouldn't live in the house. Lives in the same complex as Arthur and they get along, sometimes he offers to babysit Jack. Drops off food for her when she's real busy with her studies. NEVER late to class. And besides handling ALL THIS, she'd work as a waitress at a restaurant by campus. Talk about hard working.

Sadie Adler - Agricultural Sciences

Definitely moved to live on campus from a rural town to pursue her degree. Joined the sorority early on but dorms. Suffered a breakup and found solace in the community the girls provided. Works at a local supermarket and volunteers at a community garden nearby. Her dorm is full of potted plants. Became really good friends with Arthur through Abigail, who has her over at times. I feel like she'd be asked on dates frequently but she always turns em down because she's still struggling to accept her breakup. I'm not making it a death because this AU isn't that BRUTAL. Argues with the boys often. Pearson frequents the supermarket she works at and she always makes a comment on the strange ingredients he buys. Thus leading to a weird tense air between them that they never directly address. Enjoys her coursework and never falls behind. She's on top of that shit. Also very outspoken in class.

Karen Jones - Biological Sciences

PREMED BABYYYY. On the path to becoming a nurse. She procrastinates a lot, is often late to class, BEGS her professors for extensions. Truth is she's a party girl and she will NEVER give up that party life. Constantly at several different frat parties, gets black out drunk on Saturdays, and on Sundays she's studying for her bio exam on Monday. Complains to her sorority sisters about boys, particularly Sean, to the point where they all HATE any man she gets involved with. And the next time they see Sean in public they're all glaring DAGGERS at him. Parties aside she does her work even if she puts it off... Her grades are decent, definitely passing, but everyone tells her she's gonna need to do better if she wants to go to med school. I can see her working at a retail store like Walgreens. Most miserable cashier you'll ever see. Probably lets you walk out with your items for free if she's particularly pissed off at work that day.

Tilly Jackson - Physics Major

SHE IS A SMART GIRL. One of the most hardworking on this list. Her grades are top notch and she don't play about studying. I can see her offering tutoring for math and even getting paid for it. She is not one to be underestimated when it comes to her academic abilities. Occasionally parties (aka gets dragged along by Karen) and enjoys herself, but I can't see her being a major party animal. Offers Karen lots of advice as well as helping the girls with math assignments when they need it. Joins study groups as well as math clubs. Works at a cafe on campus where Mary-Beth and Lenny visit her occasionally. Generally well organized. Has her shit together.

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Literature Major

ALWAYS has her nose in a book. Becomes extremely engaged in class discussions and has probably read every single book required for the semester already. Works at a bookstore and frequents the campus library. Is on the chiller side of partying but still accompanies the girls. She's very reserved but can be quite friendly. Writes fanfiction in the back of class while her professors think she's just passionately writing a report. Always gets extensions from Dutch, always. Even when she doesn't need em. I can see her reading a lot of philosophy books. Also an Otessa Moshfegh fan. Colleen Hoover is her guilty pleasure. Runs a blog about the books she reads. I can also imagine her being part of the school paper. Real close with Lenny as well, often hangs out with him at the cafe Tilly works at.

Molly O'Shea - Cosmetology

Shows up to her 8 AM with a BEAT face. Full face of makeup, decked head to toe in designer: designer purse where she keeps her macbook, designer shoes, outfit, accessories, etc. Probably wears brands you've never even heard of. Has a crush on Dutch, only reason she has perfect attendance in his class. Has a grudge towards Mary-Beth. Dorms for sure, even though she'd be able to afford housing nearby. The only times she's at the dorm is in the morning getting ready for class or at night to sleep. Hardly talks to her roommate either, not even a hey. Gained the stuck up rich girl reputation from her peers. Seen at cafes in between classes and is always alone. Is out of town and has been struggling to make friends. Lots of guys ask her out on dates and she only accepts when she's bored and wants a free meal. WILL make y'all go to a steakhouse, WILL order the most expensive thing on the menu.

Dutch Van Der Linde - English/Philosophy Professor

This guy definitely speaks about philosophy with a PASSION. His class is very engaging, though I do believe he'd play favorites with a few female students... This goes for both classes. Constant open ended discussions. Type of professor to ask you "but what do the blue curtains mean...?" Hardass with assignments unless you're one of those favored female students. No late assignments with him ever. You either turn it in at the deadline or you don't ever. I feel like he'd forget to take attendance frequently despite being a hardass about that too. Probably the type of professor that tries to integrate himself with the student body and try to fit in. Mildly successful.

Hosea Matthews - Theatre Professor

THE SWEETEST, KINDEST, MOST COMPASSIONATE PROFESSOR. ALWAYS excuses late assignments and very lenient, will not deduce points. His class is very fun and engaging as well! Does what Dutch tries to do and makes genuine connections with his students while keeping it professional. Tells his students they can always talk to him and come for advice. Frequently has lunch with Dutch and Susan and talks up just how great his classes are. Frequents the library and local bookstores; also goes to the cafe Tilly works at. I also feel like a lot of his relationships would have a fatherly air around them, like he's a second dad for a few of the students (we know who...).

Leopold Strauss - Business Professor

YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T UGH. Probably a super boring class I'm not gonna lie. His accent would probably make it hard for some students to understand what he's saying, not to mention he probably speaks super softly and not loud enough for everyone to hear. He should've retired by now but he refuses to. There is no syllabus week with him, you got homework on the first day. But it's probably not even hard c'mon. Sean is probably the most lively thing about his class, but he's definitely falling asleep in there frequently. Always late to his own class, doesn't even say why, just gets into lecturing. NEVER seen without a cup of coffee. Sometimes there will be long moments of silence between lectures as he tries to figure out the technology. Falls asleep in his car after class.

Orville Swanson - Theology Professor

Also a super chill professor. He's probably super open to his classes about his struggles. He's able to facilitate well structured discussions and keep things civilized amongst his students. I feel like it could get boring because it's mostly lectures and slide shows but he'd still find a way to keep his students engaged, especially on discussions. I feel like he'd also be lenient about assignments, but his assignments would be rather large. Back to back papers. Type of professor to say hi to you in the halls or outside of campus and ask about your day. 10/10 guy.

Uncle - Biology Professor

How is he still working here. HOW hasn't he retired. WHY hasn't he retired. SOMEONE PLEASE make him retire. There are pros and cons. You will learn NOTHING in his class, so if you're unfortunate enough to land his class you better drop that shit as soon as possible. If you for some reason stay, you must be some sort of masochist. Probably has the best stories. As soon as you think he's about to start lecturing he goes on a tangent about a story that happened to him the other day. He has weekly tests and you might as well teach yourself the material because his ass definitely isn't doing it. Also has plenty of labs so he can leave you all to your own devices amongst each other while he sits at his desk and does who knows what. You can probably find him sleeping in a student lounge at any time of the day. Also the frat guys have definitely run into him at the liquor store.

Susan Grimshaw - History Professor/Sorority Mother

She's hard on you but only because she cares. Isn't very lenient when it comes to assignments but she's involved with her students. If she sees you struggling she'll pull you aside and ask what's up and figure out a plan to help you out in her class. Likes to remind her students she isn't their mommy but has a very motherly air surrounding her. And she is VERY on top of her girls. As a sorority mother, she makes sure they eat well, stay on top of studies, and deals with parents. Encourages the girls to keep up the general cleanliness of the house and tells them to work as a unit. Extremely proud of each of them.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang college au #van der linge gang #red dead redemption au #red dead redemption 2 college au #red desd redemption college au #arthur morgan #John marston #Dutch van der linde #Charles Smith #javier escuella #sean macguire #lenny summers #bill williamson #micah bell #Pearson #abigail roberts #sadie adler #karen jones #tilly jackson #mary beth gaskill #hosea matthews #molly o'shea

[gyunglitter]

introducing𓏧

the losers club !!

summary: just you dicking around with txt college!au besties

warnings: doja cat fandom slander, mentions of soobin's feet, mentions of bullying, cursing

contrary to your group’s self-appointed nickname, you guys are actually well known (and liked!) on campus!! :D

you guys have NO IDEA as to how so many people on campus grew to like you and want to hang out with you

especially since you guys had a hard time in school before

but woohoo to not peaking in high school right?!

tbh, you guys are testaments to that second round of puberty nobody talks about

ya know, the glow up that happens after you graduate high school and get away from all the pricks you were forced to see everyday?

yup, you and your losers are finally thriving

besides when you’re dying bc of all your classes and tests

but yeah

while other ppl really like your group’s personalities

YOU GUYS ARE SUPER HOT TOO🤭

i mean, just look at y’all!

[choi yeonjun]-

‘99 liner//junior

took a gap year before getting dragged back to go to school so he could learn to be a normal human being

did someone say IT BOY??

literally the girls and the gays are in love with this man

dance major and student athlete who unironically does zumba every saturday morning

had no social life in high school because kid was NEVER there

he was a bored only child, while his neglectful parents were filthy rich and figured their kid could do whatever he wanted to entertain himself

so what he wanted, they got it—including vacations

with him being gone so much, his classmates always wondered who this choi yeonjun guy was and how he could miss so much school while still passing

though the intrigue kind of stopped when he pulled up to school with the ugliest shoes to walk south korea

him and his obnoxious shoes gave a lot of people the ick :(

but never fear, yeonjun and his footwear are just ahead of their time!

(you can't say they are in quite yet, but they probably will come around some day!!)

yeonjun typically spent his days doing sports, travelling, and running away from talent scouts lmao

no idol life for him in THIS lifetime

but as life would have it, the man is too scrumptious to be out of the spotlight for too long

bc he became a model not too long after college started due to a school project photoshoot went viral on twitter!!

his twitter is a minefield while he reserves his insta for the wholesome content :)

[choi soobin]-

‘00 liner//junior

glue of the group despite insisting how much he HATES y’all

broadcast and entertainment major so he can get into the entertainment industry and get the bts of moviemaking!!

(really just wants to meet all of his favorite voice actors tbh)

known for being the Ultimate Boyfriend™ despite never actually being in a relationship lololol

in middle school he got into anime, which was COMPLETELY normal! he actually made a ton of friends that way!!

at least until one of his friends came over and saw his body pillow collection

yikes :/

unfortunately didn’t take long at all for the whole school to find out, and then they never let it go

all the way up until he graduated high school :(((

it’s okay tho!

he had tons of online friends from going to conventions and stuff!!

but making irl friends was definitely hard for him when he got to college

[choi beomgyu]-

01’ liner//sophomore

absolute MENACE to your little society

he’s the guy who gets whoever is in his company to unironically admit “last night was a movie”

music major studying composition while playing guitar in a band

the girlies are FAWNING

ppl are so in love with him because he’s so pretty

but then the kid opens his mouth :/

he was the most extroverted kid

which worked perfectly bc with his good looks and personality, everyone wanted to be his friend!! :D

but with high school, friends, and all his 100 extracurriculars

kid burned out by senior year :(

his last year of school, he totally ghosted his friends and stayed inside all day playing video games

(he actually got diamond 1 on LoL, boy is nothing if not determined)

eventually rumors went around that he got dropped and turned into a social outcast

but he didn’t really care since he was fine with rotting away the rest of the school year

by the time he got to college, he wanted nothing to do with things that would suck his already nonexistent energy

[kang taehyun]-

02’ liner//freshman

the one that always has the braincell

and really wishes he didn’t so he could escape yall

stem major for engineering, which is just another one of his controversial choices (being second only to befriending yall)

everyone on campus knows him as that one guy you go to when you need the answers to your homework or your final

yeah, he’s selling the test answers on the black market :P

what? he’s in DEBT

he never gets suspected tho bc he alrdy knows all the answers, so why would he be involved with that??

but the rest of the town?

well, the town knows him as terry

mans is always seen at the gym and the club pulling without even trying

this is TOTALLY contrasting to his high school life, where he literally only gave his time of day to his studies

mans did not have TIME to hang out with anybody

bc of this, he became a bit of an easy target to the one-dimensional jocks that tried to use him to get them better grades :(

he was a small kid, so he got picked on and tossed around a lot :(((

it’s okay, since he’s buffer than them now!! >:)

[huening kai]-

‘02 liner//freshman

maknae that’s more mature than ALL OF YOU

he acts like he isn’t, but kid grew up a MIDDLE CHILD between TWO SISTERS

they’d managed to craft the most perfect and thoughtful angel to grace south korea

except for his demonic laugh :/

but YOU GUYS LOVE IT!!

he’s coasting through college, wishing he could tell you what major he was

but boy is constantly changing it LMAO

he just loves learning about different subjects!!

not to mention he’s good at most things he tries

so he makes tons of friends!!

but he didn’t always :(

from middle to high school, he was THE band kid

he could play the guitar, percussion, trombone, and piccolo!!

so when little kai walked home in his minecraft hoodie carrying his giant instrument case

8/10 times kid would get pelted by eggs or something on the way home

good thing he had his trombone case to shield him!! :D

kai would also be insanely awkward and didn’t have good icebreakers besides his plushie collection

too bad that didn’t become socially acceptable for another few years

[y/l/n y/n]-

‘01 liner//sophomore

ladies and gentlemen i give you

her

the group's resident photographer, despite the fact that you're SO HOT

you are beauty

you are grace

well, you are now

high school: not so much

you were LOSER #1 girlie ://

you were just a little slow to pick up on a lot of social cues and what was "cool" or not, making you prone to awkward situations and bullying

for example: pinky promises and saying “on god” was quirky and acceptable, but spit shakes were not

neither were bowl cuts

or pretending to drown at the school pool and see how everyone would react

like i said, you were behind on a lot

but what took you the longest to learn—the people you thought were your friends were no longer laughing with you and your unfortunately timed puns, but at you (and your unfortunately timed puns) :(((

but you digress, because your overactive imagination worked to your advantage of getting clout and a full ride scholarship!!

you’re an art major with a minor in photography, winning a national photography contest that got the attention of your college

your genius piece of "different kinds of falls in public", where you purposefully tripped people walking by you and taking photos of them, had won the heart of the public and the school board over to the point of them begging to have you!

your parents and teachers just wished you had the same genius outside of cameras--as you slacked off in every other academic aspect

notes: enjoy me being unfunny but having a blast anyway! feel free to send in asks/requests regarding this fic. can't guarantee i'll respond to it, but i'd love to see what you guys think/want!

#txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #kang taehyun #huening kai #txt fluff #txt smau #txt crack #yeonjun #soobin #taehyun #kai #hueningkai #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #the losers club

[juyeonszn]

WHAT IS LOVE? — ELEVEN

PAIRING ₊˚⊹ lee juyeon x f!reader

SUMMARY ₊˚⊹ all is well in the business of matchmaking. except it’s actually not, because lee juyeon, the school’s star baseball player, has just come to you for help in obtaining the girl of his dreams. oh yeah! and he happens to be the guy you’ve had a crush on since your first year of university.

MORE ₊˚⊹ i remember when i was writing this i was like ..woah bc i didn’t expect it to be so angsty 😭 like idk what is up with me and the angst train lately

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

ELEVEN — Just Like A Doughnut (2.04k)

The next few days pass by in a flash and before you know it, it’s Wednesday.

Part of you really missed the whole matchmaking thing and listening to people explain why they wanted you to set them up with whoever it was they wanted you to, after all, that was the whole reason you started the club. You’d been a hopeless romantic for as long as you could remember. There were times in your childhood where you had these elaborate meet-cute backstories for your stuffed animals. You’d even go as far as planning fleshed out weddings for the Barbie and Ken dolls your mom had gotten you for Christmas when you turned 8.

Throughout grade school, you had this big dream of being a wedding planner, too. You wanted to help people put together their best day ever— the day they’d recall for the rest of their lives. Helping women channel their inner child was the portion you were most excited for. It would be like letting yourself have the chance to give back to the little girl who threw extravagant celebrations of love for her inanimate toys.

But, alas, you had to grow up from that idea eventually. As you got closer to starting university, you knew there wasn’t much you could do as a wedding planner. There wasn’t anywhere for you to go. The pay was mediocre for such a stressful and demanding job, so why would you make yourself hate something you felt so passionately about when you could do something else that made you just as happy?

That was when you decided to study psychology. It was a basic enough major that you didn’t have to choose an exact career yet, but also generalized enough that narrowing it down wouldn’t be too hard when the time came. Getting to know how people’s minds worked was exciting. Then the idea for Love Loop saved you in a way. It brought together this new territory with that old passion of yours. That was why you’ve been trying to reconnect with the club so much recently. You didn’t want to forget your roots and become out of touch with your beginnings.

As you’re finishing up with your 2PM appointment, your phone begins to ring from its spot on your desk. A quick check of the caller ID lets you know that Minho was calling, which was a bit unusual for the time of day. Once your ‘client’ has left your little cubicle area, you plop back onto your rolling chair, spinning around as you accept the call from your friend.

“Hello?”

“Hey, so I remember you saying you had a break between your last two appointments and I figured you hadn’t had lunch yet. Is it cool if I drop by and leave you some jajangmyeon? Seonghwa and I are leaving the restaurant now.” He says, and as if on cue, you hear Seonghwa’s voice in the background.

“That would be amazing actually! Thank you, Min. Is there by any chance enough for me to share with Kkura?” You slow your chair to a halt, nibbling the inside of your cheek.

“I think so. We ordered you a pretty big portion.”

“You’re a lifesaver really, I owe you one.” You sigh dramatically.

Minho laughs into the receiver. “I’ll hold you to it.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and then you’re strolling over to Sakura’s cubicle to inform her of the good news. This was just what you needed to power through that last appointment of the day, the mysterious and anonymous person who requested you specifically.

You had to admit, you were a little nervous. Of course, you understood that they probably wanted to protect their privacy just a bit longer before the entire club found out about them. However, you were also slightly afraid that this person was not interested in the club’s purpose at all and they just wanted to harass you. You could never be too sure or too careful! There’s a lot of weirdos out there.

But no matter what, you chose to stick by your mindset of giving people the benefit of the doubt. Even now, you felt like they just wanted to stay concealed a smidge more than the average Love Loop client. The ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach was the product of something else you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

It was like when you had a gut feeling about something. Except, you didn’t know what your stomach was trying to tell you. It felt foreboding in a way, almost like a warning— but not necessarily a bad one. Things were going to get interesting to say the least, that was one thing you could settle on.

Sakura and yourself had migrated back to your own space by the time Minho arrived with the food. He told you that Seonghwa had headed back to their apartment for his afternoon nap, which was why he wasn’t present. It was so Seonghwa-coded to leave the entire delivery to Minho.

“Thank you again for the food, Min!” You smile, watching as the brunette’s hand comes up to cup the back of his neck. He shrugs as if the action was no big deal, when in actuality the simple gesture made your day.

“Of course. Don’t sweat it,” Minho says, saluting to you with his index and middle fingers. “And don’t work too hard, okay? I’ll see you later.”

You wave to him as he exits your cubicle and seemingly heads to his shared apartment with Seonghwa. Without hesitation, you begin unpacking the takeout bag to eat with Sakura as quickly as possible, realizing you only had around 15 minutes before your last appointment arrived. You notice silence coming from your friend even after you’ve opened the container of jajangmyeon and handed her a pair of chopsticks.

“What?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she giggles while simultaneously slurping up some of the noodles. “I just don’t think any of my friends would go out of their way to bring me lunch. Or even remember when I had a break in my day.”

“What are you insinuating, Kkura?”

“That’s up for your interpretation.” She answers through a mouthful of food. You decide to leave it as that and not pry any further, lest you gain a headache before your final client of the day. As much as you loved Sakura (especially because she was one of the few club members you actually hung out with), she could be a royal pain in the ass when she wanted to be. Therefore, leaving things unsaid was your best option.

The two of you tear through the jajangmyeon like a tornado through a farm, leaving hardly anything except a couple stray vegetables by the time 2:45 rolls around. The ravenette tips her imaginary hat in salutation to you as she returns to her own cubicle. (She more likely went to another one of the club members’ since they all had collectively agreed to spy on your appointment. They desperately wanted to find out who this anonymous client was.)

It was 2:47 when they finally arrived at the Love Loop headquarters, knocking on the wall of your cubicle to alert you of their presence. When you glance up from the sheet of paper you were preparing for notes during the appointment, you nearly fall out of your chair onto your ass.

Low and behold, standing at the entryway of your cubicle, is Lee Juyeon. It feels as if all the muscles in your face have gone slack and your jaw has dropped to the floor much like you almost did. He looks a bit nervous, running a hand through his hair as he waits for your invitation in. Your heart stutters in your chest at the sight.

It takes him clearing his throat for you to gather your bearings. “O-oh! Right, c-come in!”

He bows slightly before assuming the seat across from you at your desk. You can tell this is something completely out of his comfort zone, if the whole anonymous thing didn’t already give it away. And then as you begin writing his name at the top of the paper in front of you, the situation clicks in your brain.

Lee Juyeon wanted your help to get with someone.

And if that person was you, he obviously wouldn’t be here right now. So then the reality of it all hits you like a train of bricks— hard, fast, and painful. Just a few minutes ago, you were content with how your day was going. You enjoyed some good food with good company brought to you by one of your closest friends. You thought this would be a nice, uneventful day. But, it appears you jinxed your own fortune. It was silly of you to even think you stood a chance.

You swallow the lump of your throat and elicit yourself to speak up. “S-so, Juyeon—” God, that hurt to say. “What brings y-you in?”

Juyeon relaxes in his seat, pursing his lips. “To be 100% with you, I’m not too sure. There’s this whole stigma surrounding me that I could have any girl I wanted, right? Star pitcher for SNU, grades that aren’t the worst, every guy wants to be me and every girl wants me. Why am I here if that’s true?”

He could have any girl he wanted. He could have you in a second if he asked. So, why was he here?

“Um— I-I don’t know. Why do you think so?”

“I think it’s probably because I don’t feel worthy of her. I feel like she deserves better than someone like me. And I never know how to approach her without coming off as an entitled jerk either. I’ve just been admiring her from afar for a while and everything sort of boiled over when I realized we aren’t getting any younger, you know? I think it’s time I made my move.” Juyeon explains, twiddling his fingers in his lap.

Whoever this girl is, must be something special since he talks so highly of her, you conclude. Each syllable of each word chips at your heart, eventually driving a wedge right through those cracks and shattering it entirely. You write a summarized version of his confession down with a shaky hand, willing away the tears threatening to pour from your eyes. You see this as the opportunity to distract yourself for a second, to recalibrate your systems and get back on track before you crumble right in this chair.

When you started Love Loop, the possibility of having to assist your crush in asking out the girl of his dreams was never something you considered. In fact, you never thought about your crush at all during the process. The reason the club came to fruition was because of your desire to bring people together in the name of love.

Lee Juyeon’s case was no different. Sitting across from you, dishing all of his deepest secrets and most vulnerable feelings about the girl he liked, was not the Lee Juyeon you were in love with. He was a client requesting your aid in his quest for love of his own. Who were you to stand in the way of that? Besides, if Juyeon was happy, then so were you. And that was what mattered the most, didn’t it?

“Who’s the lucky lady?” You pluck up the courage to ask, not only because you needed that information, but because you were curious.

“Chou Tzuyu. I’m in love with Chou Tzuyu.” He replies following a beat, staring out of the window catty-corner from him.

Oh.

Even after bandaging your heart as quickly as possible and picking yourself up to hold your head high, he unintentionally found a way to pull it apart once more and knock you back down. Through trembling lips and a dull ache deep inside of you, you force a smile. “I can’t wait to get you and Tzuyu together.”

You were lying, but he didn’t have to know that. In fact, he didn’t have to know anything at all. As long as he was happy at the end of the day, right? It was the client who came first.

PREV ₊˚⊹ TEN — ur on THIN ICE JAMAL

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[jakesullysleftnipple]

Why So blue?//Mission With Miles continuation//

Miles Quaritch finally sees your new Na'vi body

a/n: So sorry for this coming out so late. It's a little hard trying to write avatar fanfic since my fixations keep changing but a promise is a promise!

Weeks have passed since the mission you had with Miles and his team. Since then you and him haven’t seen each other often. Aside from casual heys and team meetings you guys practically never talked. With the newfound information about the Na’vi base, he was busy coming up with a plan to storm it. Once General Admore heard of the location that was all she wanted to focus on. Getting Miles and his team back out there and “passive the hostels”. But thanks to you it took longer to make a plan. Your words and how you viewed this vast and dangerous world gave him second thoughts about this mission. He constantly tweaked the plan or held off planning altogether. Not everyone noticed but people close to him like you and Lyle did. Speaking of you, today was a very big day for you. Today was the day your avatar was finally ready for you to link with. 

You were standing near your avatar in its chamber. Pressing your palm against the cold glass tube, wanting to feel closer to this new version of yourself. As your human body stood there watching intently, The Na’vi you were still in deep sleep. It was insane how they managed to capture your looks so well, the way your eyes were shaped, the way your hair was, hell even down to the body shape. The major differences are the blue color, the size, and the tail. You were enthralled by your Na’vi, how different yet familiar you looked. You’ve dreamed of this day, the day you could roam this vast planet as one of them and now that dream has become a reality.

“Alright, it’s time to get you set up. Ready to link with your avatar?

It was Max, another one of your good friends. Since you and he study in a similar field of work you were always rambling to each other about work. You haven't seen him in a while too, he’d go on frequent trips to Pandora with the other scientists to study the plants, animals, and Na’vi if they came in contact with them. His words broke you out of your train of thought. You whipped your head around being met with a kind smile, of course, you were ready. 

“Yes, I am.”

You say confidently as you pull yourself away from the glass chamber and follow after Max. Even though you were excited you were just as nervous. Your nerves make your body tense and your breathing grows shallow. It wasn’t a busy day at the base today, hallways were crowded with people due to frequent scouting missions lately. Within a few minutes, you both arrive at your designated linking pod. Max gave a quick rundown of what to expect and what you should do during your time in the pod. It didn’t take long for you to get set up, you loved watching your coworkers link up so you were very familiar with the process. As he talked you through it you started to climb into the pod, the softness of the foam comforting and helping relax your nerves. Now it was time for the process to begin, Max carefully laid you down in your pod and made small adjustments to make sure you were comfortable. Nervousness was written all over your face, clear as day to anyone.

“No need to be nervous, the linking process is not painful at all. When you wake up in your new body it will feel very different so go slow when it comes to moving. Other than that you’ll be okay.’’

He reassured you while placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You knew this already but hearing it from someone else made you calm down more. You and Max give each other one last smile before he begins the linking process and closes you in your pod. Now you were alone. Just you and the many thoughts that circled your thoughts. As you lay there your heart pounded, the sound loud enough for you to hear and not just feel it shake your being. Now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time to relax and transfer your mind into your new body. So you closed your eyes and took some deep breaths while thinking of things that relaxed you, Pandora's life. As quick as your nervousness came it left as your mind transported your mind to Pandora. You could feel the warmth of its sunbeam on you, the softness of the grass brushing against your body, the sounds of nearby creatures moving through the trees and ground. It was like you were there again. Your heart no longer raced and the only thoughts on your mind were the ones of Pandora. You craved that life again, even if it was for a few moments. Without warning your mind went blank. You felt nothing, you thought of nothing, and for a brief moment, you were nothing but a conscience. Then bright fluorescent lights stained your site. You wanted to get up and cover your eyes from these painfully bright lights but your body was so heavy, like you had sleep paralysis. Slowly your vision came back to you, the bright lights getting no softer as you slowly became aware of your surroundings. Sounds of people running back and forth now filled your ears. It was hard to make out what they were saying and see them, hell you weren’t even sure what was happening. Max told you before you went under that it was normal to not remember what was happening but that too slipped your mind. You were just focused on moving. Right as you tried to pull yourself off the medical bed someone placed their hand on your chest and held you down.

“Stay down for a sec, they need to do some motor function checks.”

Who said that? You asked yourself as your face scrunched up still trying to adjust to the light. From the feeling of their hand, they were not a human. Your first instinct was to shove them back and move anyway but your vision finally got clear when you noticed it was Lyle, your best friend. He was busy looking at something else in the room but still, he held you down. Then 2 more nurses came up to you and started to run some small tests. Seeing how your eyes reacted to light, how your fingers moved, how your ears reacted to sound, and a few more things. Once you were aware of everything you laid back down and just let them do their job. The heaviness of your body dissolved the more you became aware of your body. Your new body felt so different, even though you were several feet larger you felt lighter. 

“Alright now let's get you up.”

Both nurses help pull you up from your lying position in bed so you can start some training. As you sat up you finally got to see what your body looked like up close. It felt unreal to be a Na’vi, you couldn’t help but admire your new features. If it wasn’t for the nurses guiding you upward you would’ve sat there longer just to look at yourself.  It was necessary to do a bit of training before you were allowed to continue with your day. Lyle gave you a few words of encouragement for your training before he too had to go off. 

“Wish I could stay to help but Miles needs me again, see ya later!”

Oh shit Miles! You thought to yourself almost forgetting about him. Since he was always ducked away in his office it was so easy to forget about him and every time he was brought back to your attention you couldn’t shake the thought of him. Thankfully you had to train so hopefully that could distract you a bit. Alongside this new form, new clothes were made for you. Every Na’vi recom could pick So for the next few hours, you trained your body and explored the outside facility. You were getting used to your new instincts like your eagle eye vision and your newfound flexibility. It was fantastic! You felt so alive and now with your new Na’vi form, you can finally get the full Pandora experience. Just the thought of it made your ears perk and your tail twitch. You were thrilled to be in your new body, you were thrilled for all the new things you could experience like bonding with creatures. It wasn’t long after the training that you got back to work inside, most of your equipment was too small to handle so you helped out elsewhere. For the most part, you hung around Max, telling him about all the cool things you could do. He enjoyed having you company as he worked on his assignments. It was nice sharing a conversation with someone who had the same passion as pandora as you did. Most people here were only focus on money or any excuse to escape Earth, it was rare to find anyone here who wanted to work here for none selfish-ish reasons. 

“Hope I ain’t bothering anything but Miles needs you for a bit.”

Lyle butted his head into your conversation with Max to tell you that. He gave your shoulders a firm squeeze before dragging you off. 

“Hey!- ugh, see you later Max!”

You shouted to him before Lyle pulled you in front of him and nudged you off. Lyle seemed to also be happy that you were Na’vi now. The grin on his face still ide like when you transferred into your new body. He kept shoving you down the hall like it was urgent. 

“Why does that old fart need me? I thought he was busy with the general again and stop pushing me damnit!”

“Alrighttt. I don’t know why, might be to look over the information you two gathered on the mission. All he said was to bring you in quick while he was rummaging through papers.”

He pulled back from you and crossed his arms, letting out a small sigh as he continued to walk alongside you. Even in your Na’vi you still came up a little shorter than him, only by a foot or so. As you both walked he talked about the mission Miles and the general were plannin. He said they didn’t have an exact plan yet due to last-minute changes and uncertainty from him. You too found it weird but one of the last statements was how you changed him. Enough to start him on the path of thinking logically when it came to his harsh actions. You didn’t think much of it until Lyle brought it up to you. Once you both made it there Lyle patted you on the back and wished you luck as he went off elsewhere.

“For a soldier, he is a bit strange.” 

You mumbled to yourself as you headed into his office, first, you knocked but he didn’t answer so you just walked in after a few moments of waiting. And there he was. Not paying attention to anything else but the papers in front of him. He was hunched over his work like his life depended on it.  He brushed his fingers through his short hair and he grumbled incoherent words under his breath. He glanced up quickly, only catching the bottom half of you. He assumed you were one of the other recom members. He smacked his teeth and with a deep sigh, he spoke. 

“You’re not who I asked for, excuse yourself and get who asked you to get, and stop wasting my time.”

His voice was strong and demanding, it was clear that he was aggravated and stressed. Just then you closed the door behind you and walked up to his desk. Your tail whipped with curiosity as you watched him look over and over the files. 

“We haven’t seen each other for a while and that's  how you speak to me? Wowwww.”

He says with sarcasm written all over your voice and face. You threw your hands up and turned away from him. As soon as you spoke he stopped everything, the papers he had slipping out of his hand and onto the desk. His eyes finally meet your figure. His ears narrowed as he looked at you. That was when you turned back to him. A sly smile on your face as your tail moved quicker. It was hard to hide your emotions with your new body, you looked like a cat ready to pounce. Once he figured out who it truly was he too couldn’t hide his excitement. He stood up from where he sat at his desk and walked over to you. His hands held his hips as he waltzed up to you, that sly smile he always wore on his face. Even in your new form, he was still roughly a foot taller than you.

“Well look at you buttercup...You're just as eye-catching as you were in your human body…”

“Thank you, sir, probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me pfft.”

You both laugh a bit before Miles gently grabs your chin and examines your face. His tail slowly swayed as his low-set yellow eyes took in every inch of your face. You and him have grown fond of each other's physical touch so you didn’t stray from his touch. He stood still as he took your presence. His eyes longed for you, it had been a while since the both of you had been alone. He took one step closer to you and pulled you into a kiss. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lungs as his lips pressed firmly against yours. You were a little surprised but kissed him back, leaning closer to him as he did the same. You let your hands rest on his chest while his other hand held your lower back, not wanting you to move just yet. His tail like many times before wrapped around your leg as he continued the kiss a few moments longer. Finally, you both pull back, just looking at each other in comforting silence. He smiled at you, the tension and stress melting away thanks to you. 

“Hm..That’s what I needed…But since you are here, I could use your help.”

He nodded and let him lead you to his desk. He sat down in his chair and had you sit across his lap. Before he got back to work he couldn’t help but yo admire you, he looked at you with the same look in his eyes when you were in your human body. No matter what form you were in he still found you captivating. He wasn’t big on expressing things like that verbally but he could physically. While he worked and explained some of the details to you, you brushed your fingers against his short hair and he kept his arm around you. That's why he needed you, he didn’t want you to work or run errands. He wanted your presence again, he needed it. And now you were here to do so.

#miles quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #atwow fanfiction #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #quaritch miles #atwow x reader #avatar 2022 #miles quaritch fanfiction

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hey, I'd love a matchup for Castlevania, if you're up for it (was not the person who wrote you those ask anons btw, although I appreciate them clearing things up).

I’m a heterosexual cis woman, although I’m starting to suspect I’m on the asexual spectrum. So, I'd prefer a male matchup. Also not super sure I'd be down with polygamy.

I'm a premed student (no time for irl dating unfortunately 😭). I also work as a volunteer EMS on weekends. Outside of my school and work my hobbies are singing (musical theatre and classical mostly), theatre (backstage work as well as performing), skiing (the only sport I’m any good at) and TTRPGs (was this close to getting my group to play a Castlevania campaign 😔).

I’m also a big nerd about history, American comics, and folklore. I’ll rant for hours about my special interests if nobody stops me. I’d describe myself as ambiverted. I'm socially awkward, but also very loud and expressive. I’m a bit oblivious, I’ll admit lol, but I do my best. My MBTI is ESTJ, and while I doubt MBTI's accuracy, I agree I’m very Type A. When it comes to the things I’m good at, I’m a major perfectionist, but I’m proud of how hard I work. I think my greatest weakness is probably thoughtlessness, but my greatest strength is humility.  My giving love language is acts of service, and my receiving love language is quality time. I'm verbally affectionate towards friends but I freeze like a deer in headlights if somebody flirts with me. Also: I know appearance isn’t super important, but I think it’s important to know I’m only around 5’0 tall. As my friends say, "headpat size."

A/N: Okay for you my PreMed Student Anon (that’s amazing, congratulations by the way!)I have two potential matches in mind. You said you’re heterosexual and would prefer male results, so I chose two from that gender because I honestly couldn’t decide which would please you best. For you, I’m thinking either Dracula or Alucard would be your perfect romantic matchups! (It really does just come down to which man you’d like better: father or son, lol.) 

Dracula (Vlad Tepes), as terrifying as he may be when he decides to enact justice on the human population, is a very reserved and intellectual man. He’s introverted and devoted much of his life to learning about anything and everything from medicine to history to poetry. 

In this instance let’s pretend he’s either never met Lisa or he did meet and fall in love with Lisa but she either lived a full life and died of natural causes, or Dracula was able to overcome the anger and blame he held for humanity following her murder.

Dracula is a patient man. Being immortal means he understands that you must dedicate much of your time to your studies and your volunteer work. So long as the few moments you do get to spend with him are uninterrupted and meaningful, I believe he’d be understanding, and even supportive of your academic endeavors. He was more than happy to aid Lisa in her quest to learn more about biology, so I have no doubt he’d do similarly for you. Any questions you have, he’d gladly answer them. Any resource he has in his castle, any book or scroll, any record of any kind is yours to inspect. He has no doubts that you’re going to make a very accomplished professional one day, and he has every intention of doing whatever it takes to help you get there.

Along with that patience comes an understanding that sex is not the end all be all in life. Sure, it has its place for either pleasure or reproduction but it doesn't need to dominate relationships. If sex is something you're hesitant about, or against having, it doesn't make much difference to him. Dracula would be fine without sleeping with you, so long as he can have you in other ways. Holding you close, holding your hand, sitting next to you in front of a warm fire- those things are what make him feel close to your heart. 

Dracula also enjoys how animated you get when you go on rants about your special interests. He’s very versed in history and folklore as well, although not American comics, so he would listen intently as you teach him all you know. 

As an ESTJ, you would be very grounding for him (an INTJ), while still having a great deal in common. The both of you value an intellectual connection in a relationship while your more empathetic, extroverted side would help push him to see the truth of humanity where he may previously have only seen things in shades of black and white. You both strive for the best, and that suits you just fine with your perfectionism, but do be warned, there may be times you don’t see eye to eye. What you hold as most important in an issue or debate may be different than what he holds. Remember to be patient. INTJs are prone to stubbornness, but being a Type A personality, I do not doubt that you’ll be able to handle any contrary moods of his just fine. 

Your thoughtlessness can also be a source of discourse within the relationship, as Dracula is bound to worry about you. You’re human, you're fragile and under so much pressure. He cares deeply for you and does not want to see you hurt. The one advantage you do have, however, is your humility. It keeps you from being both arrogant and thoughtless which is a much more dangerous combination. So long as you are aware enough of your limits, and keep your wits about you the best you can, Dracula promises to trust you enough to let you come and go as you need to, so long as you’re willing to admit when you need help. But with your best trait being your humility, that shouldn't be a problem. 

Dracula is so touched by your acts of service. Being such an ancient and scary vampire no one ever thought to make him tea or ask if he needed help with anything. He feels so fortunate to have a partner who does not see him solely as ‘Dracula’, Lord of Vampires, but as Vlad Tepes, a man at heart. 

Not to mention your size difference is too adorable for words. He’s so tall and you’re so tiny… He always kneels whenever you ask for a kiss, he’ll never ask you to step on a stool or climb a ladder to reach him. He’s more than happy to come to you. He loves you. You are his new light, his new reason to believe in humanity. 

Alucard (Adrian Tepes) could also be a good match for you! He’s an ambivert like you, although he may not admit it. He’s the son of a scholar and a doctor, so he’s very understanding when it comes to your education and career. And his empathetic nature makes him extremely compatible with your considerate one. 

As Alucard is a dhampir and immortal, this matchup could work in either medieval times or modern times. For the sake of this matchup, imagine whatever you might prefer. 

Alucard hasn’t always had the best experience when it comes to sex. Granted, you can’t judge every potential future experience based on one horrible one, but he’s not the kind of guy who jumps into bed easily. He has reservations and feels very insecure about the whole act. Should he ever engage in it, he’d need a partner who’s very understanding, or just as nervous as he is about the whole thing. In hindsight, I don’t think Alucard would mind not having all that much sex: for him, your continued company means more than any sexual endeavor could. 

Alucard is very impressed with your decision to go into pre med. He knows how much work that means you’re going to be undertaking, and he’ll do whatever he can to support you, either in your studies or in your personal life. He’s very well-read and rather educated on biology as his mother was a physician, so feel free to ask him any questions or have him quiz you before exams. He’s also a bit of an obsessive lover. When he decides he likes someone, he makes a point to memorize that person. (Recall the Trevor and Sypha dolls?) He wants to know what you think and why you think it. That way, he can anticipate your thoughts or needs. 

And he does quite enjoy it when you sing to him, especially if you sing him to sleep. Sleep hasn't always come easy to him, but with your presence and your lovely voice, it’s as if an angel is singing him a lullaby. I also believe Alucard would absolutely thrive playing TTRPG: he’s sarcastic, smart and strategic. I really think he’d dominate any campaign he set his mind to. Plus, it’d be great socialization for him besides you. 

As an ESTJ you’re fairly compatible with Alucard’s INFJ. You’re just extroverted enough to pull him out of his idealistic daydreams, but grounded and predictable enough not to shake his confidence or trust in you/your relationship. The only possible issue is that INFJs can sometimes get caught up in the fantastical destiny of it all: it’s about people and purpose. Whereas ESTJs tend to be a bit more practical- you value reality and stability a bit more than potential and daydreams. But I don’t envision this to be a huge problem, so long as you push communication with Alucard. He internalizes a lot. He’ll need to be reminded to share his inner feelings. So long as you do that, I don’t see any major discourse between you two. 

Alucard may be a little disappointed in your moments of thoughtlessness, but at the same time, he finds them endearing. You try so hard: you’re a perfectionist like he is, and even though you’re only human, you strive for the same greatness. It’s rather admirable. He likes that about you. 

Alucard would also be very touched by your acts of service, mainly because he often finds himself doing the service for others. It’s nice to be taken care of for a change. And he is very happy to spend quality time with you. He’d follow you everywhere if you let him. So long as he’s near you, he feels complete. He’s always leaning down to give you soft forehead kisses whenever you’re around. You’re so precious to him. 

#casltevania x reader #castlevania imagines #castlevania imagine #vlad dracula tepes imagine #alucard imagine #alucard x reader #alucard tepes x reader #alucard tepes imagine #castlevania alucard imagine #castlevania dracula #castlevania #castlevania matchups #matchups

[clambuoyance]

I really like your style. Was it intentionally designed, or did you just sort of fall into it over time?

I wouldnt say I intentionally designed it, as in I haven't sat down and Engineered a specific style, and instead it was more of me finding what I liked and wanted to incorporate into my style.

You could probably trace my style back to its influences. I used to draw really round shapes (I still do but like they were just ovals and circles...I guess i just like that shape) until I started watching How to Draw Anime tutorials in middleschool T-T (shoutout to Mark Crilley lol)

But when I first joined social media back in 2016, I found all these crazy artists with really unique styles that really influenced me. I was drawn towards artists like star_bite/prince_canary and rawrgyle/grassflu who have very dynamic expressions and character poses :0 (also they ended up working on a Batman and Superman project respectively and how wild is it that my icons from forever ago now work on projects aligned with my current interests!!!) And as you get exposed to different artists you get exposed to the many ways you can Draw things and along with your natural affinities towards certain things (such as me being attracted to Bright and Bold colors and Shaped styles) you kind of naturally build a style.

And part of that is also just having fun Trying things out? Sometimes I wouldnt even try to emulate their style as much as I tried to just...do what they were doing? As in making my ocs and putting them in fun poses, and doing color palette trends and such etc.

I hope that helped! If you're curious I can break down some of my style checkpoints over the years. As you can see there was still some major anime influence in my style back then when I first joined social media around 2015/2016

Around that time, I also discovered the fandom around the Cartoons popular at the time, so I drifted away from anime and drew things like gravity falls/steven universe/otgw etc etc so it got Rounder I guess. I really liked how stylized characters looked and got obsessed with Shape Language and assigning characters distinct Shapes (box vs triangle vs circle etc). I also read a lot of webcomics and stuff like that so those played a part I guess

And then around 2019 I saw more artists drawing anime fanart with really sharp angles, which was completely different but so cool to look at so I tried to incorporate more angles into my art. I still had that very cartoony style but tried to push the Sharpness a tad bit more if you can tell. (I think the name of the artist I liked was jeluto?)

I think around this time I also focused a lot more on color as well and did a lot of paintings then and whenever I did more Painterly stuff I tended to switch Styles into something Less Cartoony T-T

Then by 2020, I revamped my ocs, actually tried to break down and study my own style and how I would draw them, and my style kinda fell into a mix of round vs sharp edges I guess. I tried to give myself Rules which I would follow when stylizing a character to keep it more consistent and intentional.

Then in 2021 some of that Fun Part of stylizing characters into something more Cartoony kind of took a backseat as I focused more on Pose Work and Body Expression instead which I think helped a lot :0

And here's some recent stuff from the past year! Still very cartoony, but less so than 2016 I'd say, and still using really bold colors!! Still love my Soft Vs Hard angles B]

And overall have stronger pose work :) I'm sure my style will evolve as I learn more and experiment more, because one thing I want to focus on is backgrounds and environments :0

#clam answers #art tip #art tips #style talk #idk