Tumgik
#but i got too lazy and forgot to remove them
flyingbuddiies · 1 month
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random mic doodle. mwah
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fir3ylolol · 6 months
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cure for insomnia
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pairing: Movie!Mike Schmidt x Reader
summary: mike comes home after a particularly hard night, completely exhausted. you know a way to help him sleep...
tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, eating out, cunniligus, sloppy making out, lazy-ish sex, dom/sub, sub!mike, dom!reader, praise, begging, afab reader, gn reader, he is actually so pathetic im losing my mind
a/n: hehehehe i love men who are kinda desperate. pls enjoy my first non-mk fic. not rly a fan of the creator, but i've got a lot of love for the franchise
word count: 1.21 k
Ao3
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You awaken to hear the door opening then closing softly, and you turn over, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You notice your alarm clock, loud red numbers reading ‘6:30’. You sit up slightly, stretching and yawning, as you hear the shuffling of someone removing their shoes. And there is that someone, Michael pushing through the door and landing face down on the bed. You pat his head gently, whispering to not disturb him, “Bad night?’ You hear him mumble into the blankets, “Awful.” He rolls over, starting to remove his shirt and taking a deep breath before speaking again. “Everything went wrong. Remember how Abby kept complaining that I wasn’t bringing her? I didn’t have enough time to get ready, which meant I forgot my sleeping pills. So I’m exhausted now.” You twist your mouth to the side, looking at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry dear, c’mere.” You pat the bed next to you, and he drags himself over, quite slowly.
He shuffles under the sheets with you, pulling you close. You giggle at him, face buried in your chest with content hums. But you wrap your arms around his head, one hand playing with his hair and the other gently scratching his back. He’s a complete sucker for your touch, visibly melting into the bed further. You can feel his hands slowly drifting around your back, tracing nonsense shapes. Until you feel his hands travel lower, even slower than before. You look down at him, wondering how someone so tired still has enough energy to do this. But his hands reach your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh under his fingers. He groans out, and you feel his mouth open to press kisses into your clothed sternum. “Hey, what happened to ‘exhausted’, huh?’” You question down at him jokingly. Without moving his face, he speaks into your chest again, “I’m never too tired for you. Besides, I know Abby had a field trip today so she’s already gone.”
“Wow, you’re so prepared,” you tease gently, but the hand in his hair drifts lower, tangling at the nape of his neck. You gently pull, tilting his head back, which he does with a soft whine. “Want some help falling asleep? Hm?” He nods against your hold, eyes rolled back slightly. But you can feel his hands leave your ass and travel between your legs. “Can I…taste you first? Please?” He asks quietly, voice needy and desperate. Your eyelids flutter slightly, and the air in the room feels thicker. But who are you to turn down such a polite request? You nod, kissing him on the forehead gently. Before you know it, his face is between your thighs, staring up at you with sleepy eyes. He kisses against the underwear covering you, causing you to squirm at the feeling. Slowly, he removes them, losing himself momentarily as he stares in awe at you. “God…you’re stunning,” he breathes out, before diving in. Normally, he’s gentle, making sure you feel good at your pace. But this is not normally. Michael wastes no time in diving in, lips pressed against your clit and rolling it under his tongue. One hand props your thighs open and the other joins his mouth in making a mess of you, a finger curling inside you at a desperate pace. You jolt at the sudden feeling, and your hand resumes its place at his neck. He leans into the feeling, slowing down, but not stopping fully. “Is this for me, or you?” You say, trying to remain composed. Mumbling against you, he manages to say, “Myoum,” vibrations cause you to shiver. “Then go at my pace, yeah?” He nods and leans back in, the same movements but slower.
Now he’s actually working to draw you closer, sloppy movements that chase after your release. He’s laid out on his stomach, hips rolling in short, stuttering movements as he tries his hardest to feel good too. And your grip on his hair has tightened, half-fucking yourself against his face as your eyes are screwed up in pleasure and moans pour from your lips. He’s whimpering against you, looking up at you with eyes full of sleepy lust. You have no fear of holding back, curses of pleasure as you get close. You clamp down, trapping his face between your legs as you cum, shaking slightly at the intensity. You can hear his muffled moans, tongue lapping against you. You finally come down, releasing your grip on him with a sigh. He moves to your side and kisses you, the bottom half of his face soaked. You accept, messy and passionate lips crashing against each other as you wrap your arms around his back.
You let go and push against his shoulder, which he easily does, lying down on his back.  You help pull his pants and boxers off fully, cock finally free and weeping. Climbing on top of him, legs on either side of his hips, you kiss him again. His hands cling to your hips desperately as he tries to find release again, length pressing against your thigh. One of your hands travels down slowly, tracing against his chest, causing him to shiver. You grab him lightly, leaning closer to him and whispering in his ear, “Want me to take care of you, baby?” He nods desperately, whining through his nose. You rub the tip against you, as he jolts beneath you. 
As you ease yourself down, his grasp on your hips tightens, loud and heady moans pour out of his mouth. You waste no time, sharp rolls of your hips as you sit up. You watch how easily he comes undone completely, light whines and moans as he twists under you. He can barely control himself, exhaustion heightening his sensitivity. But you don’t ease up, continuing to use him as his face contorts in pleasure. You lean forward again, bouncing and squeezing him, chest pressed against him. You can feel the speed his heart is going, fast as a racehorse, with heavy breaths to match. He’s losing it now, seeing stars, only able to let out almost silent whimpers as his grip on you starts to slip. You press gentle kisses against his cheek and decide to be unfair, whispering to him, “Come on, cum for me love. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it.” That does it, head pressed back into the mattress as he cums, hands shaking and legs kicking lightly. You’ve done it, you’ve destroyed him with just your body, as he babbles and whines incoherently. You stay on him as he comes down, watching as his movements still and his sounds grow quieter. As you climb off, he lets out a light whine but resumes his soft breathing once again. You lay next to him, smoothing down his hair and kissing his cheek. You go to speak but notice that he’s out cold, nearly snoring. You can’t help but giggle quietly to yourself, before wrapping around him gently. You don’t have anything to do today, and even if you did, you would stay here all day if he asked you to. As you enjoy the morning air, you hear him mumbling to himself, “I’m sore now.”
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It’s been over a week and am still trying to comprehend that a removal guy found a dead mouse under our sofa but instead of telling one of us (so we could dispose of it like sane people), he tied a string around its tail and hung it up in the doorway to annoy his colleagues while they carried out stuff out of the house
I mean literally that reads like someone with no writing ability trying to write a bad prank or something, I actually can’t even comprehend who would even think to do something like that it’s so disgusting
#the mouse wasn’t exactly fresh either#honestly tip of the iceberg of these people#they scratched up furniture that’s been in my family for hundreds of years#took a chunk out of the wall of our new place which thankfully our new landlord was chilled out about but could’ve been a lot worse#I’m pretty sure they ripped the hooks off the back of this hand made picture a friend gave me years ago of my now dead cat#cause I can’t think of literally any other way those hooks have gotten torn off#there’s also this unicorn figurine I’ve got that’s leg is now missing and I can’t even find the missing leg#for anyone reading this far we paid for them to pack everything up cause we’re a family of 3 adults and one young child and two of us adult#have chronic health issues and the other adult works full time plus little kid to look after it’s crazy here most of the time#I think they thought we were just lazy and did the removal service version of sneeze in the fish#it really hurts to have been targeted cause these people obviously thought I was just some lazy spoiled person#when I’m trying my best to stay on top of everything but I’m in so much pain and so tired so much of the time#I also think they really hated that I had a lot of cat stuff in my room?#like they took a drawing that was also of my now dead cat that someone else gave me out of a draw in my desk (left most other stuff in ther#and threw it into a box where of course it got kinda crumpled#like they took 5 things out of my desk draws#a couple of Easter things I forgot to give my brother last month#some sanitary towels which is pretty weird too and an old phone case#and of course the now crumpled drawing of my cat#when two of the guys were waiting to come get picked up by the others they apparently asked my sister were I was#and my sister explained I was resting in the car cause I get tired very easily#so one of them walked up to the car and asked why I was being so boring by sitting in the car#I said I was tired#he said he was tired too and I can’t use that as an excuse to be boring#like sorry for having multiple chronic heath conditions dude#this was the same guy who hung up the dead mouse tho so I don’t think he was all there#they took stuff out of some draws that had been out there by my great great grandparents#and now it’s crumpled in a box#there’s scratches on the lava lamp my grandma gave me that I swear weren’t there before#rips and dents on my posters and paperback books
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
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Reflection
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: you and Azriel decide to celebrate you getting back together by fucking in your dance studio.
a/n This is a bonus scene to Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don't story
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Warning: straight up smut.
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Azriel watched while you closed the curtains at the front of your studio so no one could see what was about to happen inside the building. For extra precaution, you turned all but one set of lights off before turning and giving your mate your full attention. You felt your heart flutter as you took in his appearance, still devastatingly handsome.
As you started getting closer, you were removing an article of clothing and tossing it aside. You were fully nude by the time you reached him. Azriel wasted no time and pulled you into a heated kiss.
Since it had been years since he had sex, Azriel skipped his usual teasing. He got on his knees and latched his lips to your clit. He sucked and flicked his tongue against your clit before slipping his fingers inside your folds. “Azriel, wait. I’m going to fall over,” you felt yourself wobbling at Azriel’s rough action and were scared you were going to topple over.
“I can’t, I’ve been away from this for too long to stop,” Azriel stared at you with lust in his eyes.
As much as you loved what he was doing, you felt you were losing your balance: “I need to hold onto something or lean against a wall so I don’t- oh, cauldron boil me- fuck keep doing that” you gripped Azriel’s hair when moved his fingers in a scissor motion inside you while flicking his tongue against your clit.
Azriel did what you asked and wrapped his free hand around your waist to keep you in place. “Keep making those little noises. You know they drive me crazy,” Azriel sped up his movements until he felt you cum on his fingers: “Fuck. I missed hearing you cum” Azriel removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, needing to taste you one more time before he fucked you with his cock.
“Az, baby. I need- I,” you whimpered when Azriel finally released your waist and stood up.
Azriel gave you a quick kiss before taking you to the wooden bar that was attached to the mirror. “I’m going to need you to keep eye contact with me while we fuck. Do you think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you gave Azriel a lazy smile, still high off your orgasm, and followed Azriel towards the mirror.
Azriel started leaving kisses across your shoulder blades: “Hold tight,” Azriel instructed while removing his clothes.
Your mouth hung open the moment Azriel eased himself inside you. You completely forgot how big he was, and the feeling of him filling you up made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Azriel could sense you trying to control your breathing and was relishing the fact he could still make you feel like this: “Do you like that y/n? Did you miss me being inside you?"
“Yes,” you held onto the wooden bar tighter as Azriel started thrusting into you from behind.
“Look at you, taking me so well. You look and feel fucking divine, my love,” Azriel panted, sweat dripping down both of your bodies.
“I missed this. I missed you,” You closed your eyes and allowed Azriel’s shadows to swirl around your naked body: “And your beautiful shadows.”
His shadows went wild at your compliment and started grazing your cheeks. “They missed you too. They kept scolding me for what I did and reminded me that you were theirs as well,” his shadows went even wilder at their master's words. Some of them stayed grazing your cheeks while others made their way down your body and started swirling around your breasts. 
One shadow got bold and went down until it reached your clit: “Oh Azriel!” you threw your head back at the shadow's actions.
The mirror in front of you started fogging up from your heavy breathing: “Azriel- I,” you felt yourself tightening around Azriel’s cock. 
You were trying not to cum again; Azriel could tell as well, so he whispered into your ear: “I can feel it, my love. You can cum now. Let go.”
At his permission, you let a cry and came: “I thought I told you to stare into the mirror,” Azriel gritted through his teeth, lifted your chin so you: “ I want to stare into your eyes while you’re cumming on my cock.”
Your cries grew louder as you watched Azriel, who was now slamming into you at a much faster pace. His hands were all over your body while you held onto the wooden bar as if your life depended on it. “Azriel,” you chanted over and over again like a prayer.
Azriel had a wicked grin on his face, watching as you let go of the wooden bar and reached behind you to touch him. He was trying not to cum right then and there, especially as you met his thrusts. “That’s it y/n. Let go. I’ve missed you crying out my name like that,” Azriel lightly bit your ear and shooed away the shadows that were exploding your body.
With one final swipe of his thumb against your clit, you found yourself cumming again. You tried your best to keep your eyes open for Azriel’s, but the pleasure was too much for you, and you found yourself closing them while you repeatedly called out his name.
Fortunately for you, Azriel’s own orgasm washed over him, and he buried his face into your neck while he came inside you.
Heavy breathing and whimpers from both of you filled the studio as you both rode out your orgasms. Azriel kept moving until you begged him to stop: “I. love. you.”  Azriel kissed your shoulder after every word. His arms were wrapped around your body, and he held you as if he was afraid you would slip out of his embrace.
“I love you too,” You smiled at your mate in the mirror: “Let’s go home. Our home.”
Azriel placed one last kiss on your shoulder before you got dressed again and locked up your studio so you could go home. Your home. The home you planned to rebuild your relationship from the ground up again.
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osaevsky · 4 months
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⠀ like you're god ! ⠀⠀⚝ drabbles on how some characters from bungo stray dogs would fuck you or let you fuck them. included: dazai osamu, edogawa ranpo, chuuya nakahara, ryunosuke akutagawa, gin akutawaga, edgar allan poe, nikolai gogol.⠀;    ♡
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🥮⠀⠀·⠀⠀⚝⠀⠀⠀;  word count: 2.6k + warnings: not proof read. porn without plot, afab reader, slight praise & degradation, dacryphilia, size kink, dubcon in nikolai's, very mild dirty talk, thigh riding in dazai's, use pet names, public sex + fingering, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, begging, coming inside, smoking, oral (m. recieving) + throat fucking, cockwarming.
🥮⠀⠀·⠀⠀⚝⠀⠀⠀;  author's note: literally did this just to get some stuff i wrote a long time ago out and write pure filth for my favorite characters. if i forgot any warning pls let me know !!
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as lazy as he can be, ranpo makes sure every need is met and that you both cum. the days he’s the one taking the lead, his movements are slow, dragging every inch out and pushing it back inside with a proud look on his face, as it makes him feel accomplished to see you fucked stupid and stuffed with his cock. 
but now he is indifferent, not even bothering to wait to get to the bedroom, or caring to remove all clothing off before you get to fuck. there’s something about seeing you so eager to make the first move, he would not be the one to let you down on it. why if he can get to lay back and just enjoy it? 
one of his hands wraps around your throat, careful to not push his fingers too much into your flesh as to not choke you. there is a half smile playing on his lips, his back against the surface of the couch as his other arm rests right behind his head to have some support. ranpo was being nice, letting you have your way with him like this, looking so pretty and full. 
green eyes, now wide open as he tilts his head, looking at you while you fuck yourself on his cock, his hand trailing down from your throat towards one of your breasts to carefully pinch one of your nipples over the fabric of your shirt, as they pebble up below. that alone elicits a moan from you, your eyes trying to close as your walls clamp down around his length.
‘’you'll cum again? is that easy to make you fall apart with just my dick? you’re such a slut.’’ ranpo asks, his eyes widening a bit as you nod, so impatient that he has to avoid a low chuckle from coming out. his arm finally moves from under his head to get it placed on one of your thighs, keeping up with your movements. ‘’look at me, yeah? don’t close your eyes, i want to see how well you’re taking it. just for me, ‘kay?’’’
by that time, he can tell from how slowly you’re moving now that it’s making your body ache. his hips move up just as lazily as yours, trying to search for your body, a harsh slap of skin against skin making your walls flutter around his cock as you cum. ‘’there you go… that’s it, sweetheart.’’
ranpo spills inside you with a final thrust of his own, his arms wrapping themselves around you to bring you down towards his chest as you both pant, trying to catch your breath while his lips place a kiss atop of your head. ‘’hm… want me to fuck you now, hm? Gonna make it it up for you after working so hard, yes?’’ 
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definitely experienced but he is laid back. he enjoys the show sometimes, instead of doing the work for you. It’s not out of laziness like ranpo, dazai just finds it more entertaining to see you get off on his thigh without any help. Your little complaints get him hard, what can he do about it?
his hand rests on the small of your back, your clothed cunt dragging along the expanse of his thigh while he pays no attention to your pout, his eyes now following your movements as he can already tell -and feel- how damp the fabric has got. 
as you stop your movements to catch a breath, a small tremble on your thighs while you’re straddling his own, he makes the hand at your back push against your body, urging you forward to keep you moving, wanting you to keep going till you actually cum. 
dazai’s gaze moves from between your legs to your face, chuckling at the sight of your pout, and his eyebrows arch as you sigh. You are sure looking like a dumb brat to him, as he only seems to find your grim amusing. ‘’can’t expect me to do all the work now, can you? Is that what you want?’’
the peck he leaves on your lips is enough to shush you before you can complain again. even if you want to say how hard it actually is, he already knows. 
dazai’s hand moves towards your hips, his index finger playing with the band of your underwear, making the elastic snap against your skin after he lets it go and you hiss at the pain. ‘’keep them on, you’re not getting off without them.’’ 
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thought he didn’t have a preference for giving or receiving till he found out how beautiful you looked between his thighs while he took a break to smoke one of his cigarettes. chuuya is surprised, to say the least, as he shuffles with a packet between his hands before he finds one, picking it up and looking around for his lighter, before the touch from your hands on his thighs takes his attention back to you. 
one thing he can’t avoid is having at least one hand tangled between your locks, or petting your head lovingly as you bob your head up and down. Even if one is occupied -as it is now, picking up the cigarette from between his lips to blow off some smoke- he has to find a way to touch you, to feel you besides the warmth from your mouth, the spit getting almost everywhere now as it looks like you can fit it all from one go.
‘’relax a bit more, baby, ‘s not that hard. you’re the one who started this, don’t be mean now. Relax your throat- like that, yeah. that’s good, dollface.’’ 
all of that talk as he pushes your head a bit more each time. That's how he does it till your nose brushes against his abdomen and you’re gagging. He thinks you’re a pretty thing, he feels pity for ruining you, but getting your mouth full and hearing your whines muffled around his cock- he can’t get enough of it. 
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follows a more simple way of showing he loves you after having any sexual encounter by staying inside, even after finishing. or even if you’re both just keeping it to cuddling: the moment akutagawa feels your hips brushing against his body, pushing back, or he gets to hold you close, being able to wrap his arms around your waist, and nuzzle his nose into your neck, he gets hard. He is sorry, but it’s just prone to happening -too many times.- 
akutagawa slides one of his hands down your shirt, his fingers tracing every knob on your spine before it settles on your hip, already grasping your underwear and pushing it down, lower and lower. Once it reaches your ankles, you’re the one to finish the job, kicking it with a swift movement. 
his lips find your shoulder, leaving some short kisses as he goes right below your ear, whispering a -fuck, thank you- or -can’t get enough of you when you’re like this- when his arm wraps around your waist to pull you back against his chest like before. 
akutagawa’s cock is already settled at your entrance, pushing the head slowly inside, feeding into your little hisses and whines when he finally bottoms out. ‘’Does it hurt?’’ He mutters, the tinge of insecurity is clear as he uses one of his hands to grip your chin, turning your head to make you look at him. 
he soothes any pain that might be left with a soft kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek and caressing the skin with his thumb tenderly. The insecurity from before is no longer there as his eyes catch a glimpse of a smile tugging at your lips, reassuring him that you feel good, that he’s making you feel good, and that’s the only thing that he needs. 
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so scared of ever getting caught but she can be greedy, wanting to get fucked by you in any place that you want it to happen. it’s the mere thought of someone walking in while you’re between her legs, knuckles deep inside her cunt, that makes gin's face hit up. but it’s undeniable how her body feels about it, as she feels her own arousal threatening to stain the skin on her inner thighs.
‘’please, just let me cum, just-’’ Your lips wrap around her clit, the bundle of nerves already sensitive and swollen from making her come undone on your tongue for a few times now. her hands are knuckle-white, gripping the wall behind her with so much strength it makes you hum against her, the vibrations going straight into her.
you look up at her through your eyelashes, sucking on the bud slowly, too slowly that it turns out painful. A cry comes out of Gin’s lips, which you’re quick to soothe with a few kisses plastered over her thighs and inner thighs, making her bite her lower lip to let some broken sobs die down her throat. 
‘’you think you can cum again? you’re too sensitive.’’ your tone is full of mockery, seeing the desperation in her face and hands, as she moves one of them from the wall to the nape of your neck, trying to pull you back to her cunt.
you lick a broad strip over her folds, finishing right under her clit. It feels like torture for her as you ignore what Gin needs most right now, noticing how you’re dragging it out for her and not letting her finish. 
‘’should I leave you here and let people see how I used you? Let someone see your swollen cunt and hearing your stupid sobs, precious?’’ Gin shakes her head, her chest heaving as her breathing remains irregular. There’s the softest look of a quiet plea behind her blown out pupils, as her lip trembles trying to stifle a new cry. 
‘’give me one more.’’ two of your fingers are pushing past her folds, stuffing her up with them and curling them upwards, touching that rough patch over and over again till Gin can’t keep up anymore, your free arm having to hold her by the waist as best as you can while she gushes around your fingers, muttering a few ‘’stop, i can’t.’’ Behind the wall of tears that are formed on her eyes, she can see the shadow of a prideful smile on your lips at that whole sight.
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the most desperate one. his desperation is out of a lack of experience. he is not a virgin by anymeans but he hasn’t fucked as many people as other men, and it plays out… differently, on his side. poe is too eager to learn how to please you specifically, after he kisses and marks you all nicely, he doesn’t wait much to get inside. the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock makes him dizzy and already begging for more.
the way he ruts his hips into yours so fervently, a thin layer of sweat keeps his hair stuck to his forehead is all too surprising. To finally see Poe lose himself just at the fact that he was trying to fuck you sensless is surpsing.
you catch a few words slipping past his lips as he dips his head down, a sound so unintelligible that if he hadn’t whispered close to your ear, it wouldn’t have made any sense. ‘’Please, please, that’s so.... gods, you’re so tight.’’ Your legs move to his waist, his hips no longer keeping up as you can feel his cock throbbing inside of you. 
‘’let me come in you, please. I want to fill you up, I need to-’’ He quiets down for a split second, his arms trembling besides your head as the only support he has to keep himself up and not crush you down with his weight. ‘’Please, please… Let me fill you up, i’m too close-’’ 
there’s only a nod coming from you, your legs tightening around his body to ensure he knows you’re giving him the go. He fills you up to the brim as his orgasm makes him shake even more than before, some of his load being so much that it starts to slip out around his cock and goes down to your body. He is already feeling embarrassed, a wave of guilt washing over him as what he said comes back to mind. ‘’Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t- no, fuck, didn’t wanna say that-’’
a chuckle of yours makes his guilt slightly wash off, noticing how you’re not trying to blame him or making him pull away, even after spilling inside you or slowly starting to feel his length soften inside of your body. ‘’It’s okay, really… begging does look good on you after all.’’
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would swear he does it just to tease you, getting to be unfair with you for a little while, hold back your orgasms and hear your begging…  but in reality, nikolai justs enjoys seeing you teary-eyed, looking up at him from below as he pounds into you, stretching you out while you babble nonsense and your hands push at his abdomen, trying to get him to go softer on you.
‘’what’s that?’’ He mutters, his hips sharply pushing against yours with all of his might, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix in a way that makes your eyes get glossy, while your lips part to let out a whine. ‘’Thought so. There’s no need to complain.’’
‘’Kolya, Kolya, too much-’’ He tuts upon hearing that. The sight of your cunt swallowing his cock is too amusing to not keep going, and hearing your little whines only fuels him to click his tongue in disapproval. 
His lips crash onto yours, so suddenly that the air in your lungs transforms into a moan, going straight into his mouth. His fingers get a grip on your hair, as it doesn’t last much, when he uses the same fingers to tug your head back and look at you, a glint of disappointment in his good eye. 
‘’you know you can take it, have some trust in yourself.’’ Another sharp thrust, the head of his cock bullying your cervix once more, while some tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes. He kisses your cheek so tenderly that it’s vile, even for him. ‘’You’ll let me fill you up, pretty? You always look so good with your little cunt filled with my cum.’’ 
Nikolai’s words are even more filthy than what he is doing to you, his own hands now taking care to push your thighs up to your chest, keeping you pressed with the weight of his body as his cock continues to ram inside of you. 
A faint crimson color appears on your cheeks, a stupid hiccup leaving your throat after all your sobs had come out already. ‘’Nikolai-’’ You call out his name, wanting to warn him that you’re close, too close, actually. but he knows, just from the way your walls are tightening, that it’s difficult even for him to push back. It doesn’t take long before you let go, your body trembling while he doesn’t stop his thrusts as you ride your high.
‘’we’re not done here, I still need to fill you up.’’ 
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saltydumplings · 1 year
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I have to say that your snippet 17 (the one with the henchman falling for both hero and villain) is SO GOOD, I loved. Would you continue someday (if not, no problem)
Snippet #17.4
Part 4
OMG I FINALLY DID IT, Y'ALL I FEEL LIKE I REWROTE THIS ONE ABOUT TEN TIMES MY GOD
Cw: SPICCCYYY (on the off chance you weren't already aware)
When the henchman awoke, their whole body ached. It was a good ache though - satisfying. Blinking sleepily, they groaned and stretched, a content sigh slipping past their lips as they huddled deeper into the blankets around them. Seconds passed and they were almost asleep again when warm hands wrapped around their waist, pulling them back and close to the person laying behind them.
"Not a morning person either, hm?" the villain murmured.
Their voice stirred the henchman slightly - sent their eyes fluttering back open to realise that they weren't in their own bed. The events of last night washed over them like a memory from a dream: the villain working over every part of their body until they forgot how to speak, the way the other had teased and toyed with them ruthlessly - touching and kissing everywhere; the hero's praise as they watched from a distance, telling the henchman exactly how good they were being while the villain continued to pleasure them, coaxing out one moan after the next until the henchman was practically on the brink of tears.
But it hadn't been a dream. The henchman was here now and so was the villain, and god they would do anything to do it all over again...
They let out a soft whine as they turned, their limbs numb and heavy as they pulled themself closer still - hiding their face against the villain's chest. In return, their superior hummed, tangling their legs together and resting their chin upon the henchman's head, clearly content for them to stay just like that for as long as they wanted.
"I don't know how Hero does it," they commented. "I can barely bring myself to leave the bed at this time, let alone exercise."
Was that where the other was? No: perhaps they had been before but the henchman could hear the shower going in the adjacent bathroom.
It wasn't a bad idea...getting clean, that is. The henchman dreaded to think of the state of the covers they were bundled so comfortably in, let alone the state of themself. Just the mere thought of it was enough to make them blush, glad that their face was hidden so perfectly.
A few minutes passed and they stayed like that, at the lazy halfway point between wakefulness and sleep - the point where everything looked soft and pliant in the morning light, a space where the rest of the day's ventures couldn't touch them. They snoozed, cuddled, hummed when the villain stroked a hand through their hair.
After a while the shower turned off and the bathroom door opened, the sound of footsteps padding out to stand at the edge of the bed. Next to them they felt the villain stir, the other removing one hand from the henchman's waist to grip the covers instead.
"Hero," they heard the villain warn.
The sheets were tugged down slightly but the villain tugged back.
A snort. Then a scoff. "Lazy..." the hero muttered as they came to stand beside the other, hands on their hips as they stared down - a white towel just barely clinging to their frame.
"Unlike you," the villain said, "I enjoy my mornings."
"And who's saying I haven't enjoyed mine?"
A pause.
The henchman pouted as they felt the villain turn away only to have a second weight fall onto them, the hero squeaking slightly as they were suddenly pulled down onto the bed. They scrambled upright in a huff, fixing the villain with a glare.
"I just got clean," they whined.
The villain smirked. "You say that as if it matters." They sat up, pulling the hero into their lap whilst the henchman inched away slightly - too intent upon a few minutes extra sleep to care about what was happening beside them.
The hero blushed, a stubborn frown still adorning their face as the villain caught their chin and brushed a thumb over their lips. "Funny," the villain said then, "you're not as desperate as I left you last night."
"Perhaps it's because I took out all my frustrations on the punching bag."
"Possible. Then again, you also took an extra ten minutes in the shower..."
The henchman rolled their eyes slightly before turning to lie on their stomach, pulling the spare covers over their head. It was barely past eight o'clock, how did these two have the energy to flirt?
They buried their face into the pillow just as some very suspicious rocking motions started happening, the hero's breath hitching tellingly and the henchman's cheeks flushing at the sound.
It was eight o'clock. In the morning.
Eight.
And they had to get up soon for that stupid meeting...
The henchman's eyes opened in a panic, head lifting up slowly to glance at their superiors. The villain had one hand around the hero's neck and the other on their sex, working them steadily as the other let out small moans - their towel apparently long since discarded. The henchman went to open their mouth but closed it the second the villain caught them looking, face going an even deeper shade of red than it had been before.
"Interested, pet?" the villain asked.
The hero hummed. "I want to use their mouth again. It'll be free when you're giving them their reward, right?"
The villain raised a brow, their movements slowing down to an agonising pace which had the hero whining. "I don't know, sounds more like a reward for you than them."
"I-I, um..." They sat up, opening their mouth only to get the same result: they couldn't do it; they couldn't bring themself to tell them.
They should have done it last night - they'd intended to do it last night - but the villain had been relentless: there was never a good time to say it and even now any potential moment seemed to have passed.
Seeing their hesitation, the hero put one hand upon the villain's wrist to still them before leaning forward slightly, capturing the henchman's chin in a soft hold. "You can play if you want," they offered. "Or you can watch - there's no pressure."
"It's - th-that's--"
"Still tired, pet?" Suddenly the villain's hand was in their hair, stroking slowly. "I had you working all of yesterday...and, admittedly, most of the night."
"No, I'm fine, I just...I-I just..."
God, the hero and villain were touching them in ways that made them want to melt. All they wanted to do was stay right there and do whatever they wished but this was important - the villain couldn't afford to miss it, let alone be as much as a minute late. The henchman needed to tell them now even though it was going to break their perfect moment.
"If you're about to say you have paperwork to do you're not allowed," the hero said strictly, shifting from the villain's lap and onto theirs, straddling them in all their naked glory.
"Oh, n-no - I mean, kinda, but not--"
"Henchman, if you so much as mention a single word about work, I think I may have to punish you..."
The henchman didn't know when the villain had come to kneel behind them but suddenly they were trapped in on all sides, their back to the villain's chest while the hero was trying to pull down the blanket that still covered them. They were both so close - s-so warm.
"You remember you're mine now, yes?" the villain said. The henchman didn't have the collar on them at that moment but still their superior traced a line where it would have lay. "No running away to that office of yours unless I--"
"Actually, I think you mean they're ours," the hero corrected, putting their hand over the villain's and holding it there - the henchman's neck now framed by both their palms. "They belong to me just as much as you."
The villain huffed. "If that's what you want to believe, love."
"I-I really should..." The henchman's mind was starting to grow foggy. They shivered a little, trying to focus. "Villain, there's- we have a meeting with--"
"Ah, so that's what you're so fussed about. Worried to pass off one of my clients," the villain said with a smirk. "It's cute that you care so much about my investments, pet, but you don't have to worry about that. I'll just cancel it, I'm sure they can wait until tomorrow."
"But--"
"Didn't Villain just tell you that if you mentioned work they'd punish you?" the hero asked. "Oh, honey, you don't want to be digging yourself an even deeper hole now, do you? Perhaps I help shut you up before you say anything else, hm?"
And just like that the hero's lips were on their own, the henchman unable to contain the desperate whine that had been clawing at the back of their throat - their thoughts frustrated and flustered all at once. Why was it so hard? Why were they making it so hard - how were they making it so hard?! The henchman just had to say one word: the second the supervillain's name slipped off their tongue this would all end...
Though maybe that was the main issue.
Because the last thing the henchman wanted was for this to end.
They felt their arms being drawn behind them but they didn't fight it, letting the villain do as they pleased while the hero continued to claim their mouth - their hands now free to roam the henchman's body without interference. Right as the hero managed to pull the blanket down past their waist, the villain's lips latched onto the henchman's shoulder, quickly finding a space where they hadn't left their mark yet.
Say it, the henchman scolded themself but still they kept returning the hero's kiss.
Say. It.
All that left their lips was a desperate whimper, the villain's hold upon them firm whilst the hero nudged their thighs apart slowly - the combination of the two completely unfair but the henchman wouldn't have had it any other way; wouldn't have given this up for anything but...
"Supervill'n..."
Holy shit they said it.
They felt the villain's lips freeze upon their neck before withdrawing slowly - the hero's attentions continuing to travel downwards, oblivious.
"What was that?" the villain asked.
"Supervillain, we--" The hero's tongue was tracing a steady line up their thigh, stopping just short of where they wanted it. They cut off with a pitiful whine before remembering themself, trying to squirm away before the hero could go any further. "W-We have a meeting with S-Supervillain!"
A beat.
The hero's hands stilled as they peered up, one brow quirked slightly as their mouth gaped. "You're kidding," they said.
The henchman shook their head. "Their lair. N-Nine o'clock."
"Nine o'clock..." They felt the villain release them, turning to check the small clock on the bedside table. "That's in forty minutes."
"I-I was going to tell you yesterday," the henchman explained as the hero sat up, already mourning the loss of their touch. "I just...I mean there was a-a, um..."
"Distraction?" the hero provided.
The henchman flushed. "It didn't seem like th-the right time."
"And this morning?" the villain asked, sliding off the bed to stand in one smooth motion and opening one of their drawers.
The henchman's embarrassment only grew. "Well, I didn't remember at first. N-Not until you and Hero were...a-and then - then - I tried to tell you b-but you said you'd punish me if I talked about work!"
The villain paused as they were buttoning up their shirt, gaze shifting onto the henchman with interest. "I did say that."
The henchman opened their mouth and then promptly shut it again, the hole they'd seemingly dug themself into getting deeper by the second. A soft pressure stroked against their thigh and they glanced down, finding the hero laying beside them - eyes alight with the same dangerous curiosity that the villain was showing. The henchman looked from one to the other, the blush on their cheeks steadily moving down their neck.
"I-I still get my reward, right?" they asked.
Their superiors shared a look. A long look.
When their attention turned back to the henchman, they swallowed.
"R-Right?"
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siphoklansan · 4 months
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𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒕 ✍︎︎
featuring: Anan Atthakornmetha and Charin Kamolnath
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Anan’s bottom fangs are thin, long and it sticks out.
The marks on the corner of his lips aren’t tattoos. It’s kinda like a birth mark (for Yakshas)
Anan has dark brown eyeshadow under his eyes.
His hair is thigh-length (half of his thighs) but when tied up it’s hip-length
Anan wears gold jewelry.
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Anan’s (red) sash is near knee length
He wears black derby shoes
Anan’s jacket is always on his shoulders, and is always accompanied by a golden brooch chain.
Without the jacket, his sleeves are rolled all the way up to his shoulders.
He wears archery gloves on his right hand.
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Charin has a mullet, and his hair sticks up naturally.
He has short, spiky eyebrows
Has red eye shadow
He wears silver jewelry.
He has small fangs.
The swirly marks on his cheeks are birth marks/ features that monkey yakshas have.
His ears are bigger than Anan’s.
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Charin’s tail has the same color as his hair
His tail does not reach the floor
He has two silver rings wrapped around the caudal peduncle
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Charin’s jacket is off shoulders at all times.
Charin’s (blue) sash is near knee length.
He wears flip-flops, but with (white) bandages wrapped around his calcaneus and ankles
His shirt collar is not buttoned all the way up and wears a loose neck-tie.
His jacket usually covers his hands in his idle pose.
Wears a short sleeved shirt.
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Other Notes✍︎︎
They both wear an orange vest because they’re from a fan-made dorm called Asuri, which is still in progress as well as the dorm’s arm band.
They both wear short sleeved shirts, but Anan just folds it to his shoulders.
Charin has a leaner build than Anan, which makes Anan more muscular.
Charin rarely shows his tail, so it’s not required to draw it.
Ignore the badly drawn feet please </3
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tagging @axvwriter because they were the one who asked for the long awaited reference sheet. I’m SO sorry it took so long😭🙏
If you guys noticed, yes, I removed Anan’s chain-thingy on his left hand (based on one of my spams) because I got too lazy with drawing it and it’d be a PAIN to draw it all the time. I fr forgot that bro is not a Genshin character so I don’t need to make his design that complex. So, I added archery gloves on his right hand instead because Anan is a skilled archer!✨
I also added some red highlights in Anan’s eyes and I made him look…a little less intimidating. Actually- I feel like he looks scarier when he’s not colored😟 So if you guys wanna make him intimidating with colors, I suggest drawing his eye brows near his eyes so he can look angy😠
I must confess that I have NEVER drawn them with shoes before. Actually- maybe once in one of the OC interaction asks but it wasn’t that detailed and I was drawing out of my own ass. So this reference sheet made me actually design my characters properly.
I suck at anatomy, never learned it either, so I’m pretty sure their build and limbs are wonky asf and I apologize for that😭🙏 HOWEVERRRR if you guys have any questions about them (design related or not) feel free to ask me in my inbox!💖🤍
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munchboxart · 5 months
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Possibly graphic (I drew something that involves melting faces + something that looks like a blood transfusion) but I'm just gonna be talking about my headcanon about the biology of Inkfish, so I will be going into blood details and such
This is such a long post so warning for that too
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Ok so I've been floating around the idea of internal ink, which is what keeps the Inkfish's body structure.
To get this out of the way since I think I remember hearing someone mention about Inkfish not having blood because Ink sac make's them explode etc etc. I don't think Inkfish evolution would go as far as to remove their essential internal body parts, especially when blood is what keeps most creatures alive, especially fish. I still think Inkfish has blood and such. It's what keeps them alive and works exactly the same as all living creatures including us.
So what about internal ink? I believe there needs to be a set amount of internal ink that let's Inkfish control their body structure (like how they can switch forms and such). Though if one loses too much, they won't be able to hold their form for too long, which includes their internal body system and such and will die since their structure collapses.
I got this idea from how they melt/dissolve in water because there's an imbalance of ink (I forgot the word I'm stupid) and so they can't hold their structure because there's too much other liquid (if I'm remembering this right). Though they still come back from that (same with enemy ink and such). I don't know why, I don't know how, maybe there's just enough ink for them to recollect and coagulate together since it's not the internal ink that was lost (though I remember hearing that the ink sac is what explodes them or something, I don't know if this is right, if it is then ignore me for what I'm gonna say next).
If someone loses too much internal ink, I'd imagine you can get some sort of transfusion for that from another inkfish, either directly from the ink sac or maybe some sort of ink veins. Also since like, Inkfish output a lot of ink, I think there could be like, 2 types of ink, input and output. Input is a lot denser (aka the body), output is more loose whatever that means. So Inkfish can put out a lot of ink but still have enough to regulate their body.
How someone can lose their internal ink? I think you can lose it from having an imbalance for too long (so like your ink doesn't get recovered/inkfish soul thing that flies around after you get splatted(?????) stays too long in other liquids). Maybe you some how got separated from your other ink (in terms of physical distance) that you aren't able to regulate your body anymore. Maybe your ink sac being infected/too damaged (although if the exploding ink sac thing is real, then ignore the 2nd part). Maybe a mix of blood loss for fun? MAYBE you lost so much ink at once somehow and aren't able to recover in a short amount of time (maybe unlikely. Though possible for older Inkfish since they do dry out...). I don't know I didn't think this far 😭
Anyways the next part is me explaining the image above and it's purely just my insane rambling about JunMui, you're free to go.
Ok so I had the idea of Mui losing a lot of internal ink by losing so much at once that his body is having a hard time recovering, so Jun does a direct ink transfusion, but so much was lost that his structure also starts to melt. He's going to recover, it's just that it's going to take some time compared to Mui who lost way more.
Sorry this is a lot, ramblings of an insane person LOL Though feel free to let me know what you guys think, just don't be mean, I'm fragile LOL
I like to stick to canon too as closely as possible but I might ignore some stuff because 1 there's a lot of interviews 2 I'm lazy (sorry....) 3 I probably didn't know
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seasidesandstarscapes · 2 months
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Lazy Sunday
Summary: Don and Bobby are expecting a quiet morning but the crew has other ideas
Rating: G
Tags: Established Relationship, Slice of Life, Fluff, Humor, Embarrassment, Being Walked In On
Words: 853
A/N: can't get privacy anywhere on campus smh
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AO3
or
Don wakes to a warm weight pinning him down.
It takes him a moment to remember where he is, what happened the night before and as he does, a small smile grows on his face.
Bobby is draped across him, head on his chest and arm at his waist. The only decency they have is the blanket covering them, but Don isn’t concerned about that. He runs his hands through Bobby’s hair, waits as Bobby slowly wakes. He makes a disgruntled noise, buries his face into Don’s shoulder before lifting his head at last.
“Damn sun,” Bobby scowls at the window and Don smiles at this. “At least it’s Sunday.”
Bobby kisses Don’s temple before snuggling back down, his mouth already running a mile a minute. “What do you want to do today? I was thinking about going to that diner by campus. Or we could go to the park. There’s the river too.”
In all honesty, Don doesn’t care as long as it’s with Bobby and goes to say as much. But before he can, the door to the room flies open.
“I’m sorry,” Shorty apologizes, eyes squeezed shut as he stumbles in. “I know I said you could have the room to yourselves but I forgot something.”
Don is frozen and Bobby doesn’t fair much better as they stare at Shorty fumbling his way to his desk.
“I’ll be out in just a second.”
“It’s fine,” Bobby starts when the door opens again.
“There you are, Shorty,” Chuck huffs. “Where the hell have you been?” Without even asking, Chuck enters the room and marches over to Shorty, still airing out his grievances.
Don all but whimpers and pulls a pillow over his head while Bobby tugs the blanket up to their chests. He and Bobby aren’t trying to hide their relationship but this isn’t how they wanted Chuck to find out.
“God damn it, really?” Chuck sighs and Don peeks his head out to see Chuck staring at him and Bobby with his hands on his hips.
“Got a problem?” Bobby bites as he sits up in the small bed.
“Yeah. Cause now I owe Joe a quarter!”
Bobby glances back at Don, confusion painted over both their faces. They had been careful, subtle, but now Don isn’t so sure.
“Chuck, what’s taking so long?”
Don dares to look and the remaining members of their team shove into the room, making a compact space even more claustrophobic. Trying to ignore the fact that he and Bobby are naked under the blanket, Don goes back to the sanctuary of the pillow suffocating him. Maybe this is all just a bad dream.
“Did you have to bring the whole goddamn welcoming committee with you?!” Bobby exclaims, but no one besides Don seems to hear him.
“Oh, hi, Bobby. Hi, Don,” Roger waves before turning back to the multiple arguments at hand.
Bobby curses to himself and Don can’t help the small laugh that leaves him. Of course this is the monkey wrench that life would throw at them. At least there is a hope of a silver lining and Don starts to relax.
“Uh, fellas,” Joe’s voice rises over the din, “maybe we should take this elsewhere.”
Don lifts the pillow just enough to see Joe give him and Bobby a polite smile and Don simply nods in return. It takes a few more attempts but at last, Joe manages to herd the team out of the room.
“Yeah, but what if it’s just one night?” Chuck is still arguing to save his money, but Don catches the exchange of quarters and how Joe seems to collect most of it.
“Have you seen the looks on their faces?” Jim retorts. “Love hath never been truer.”
With a final shove, Joe is the last one to leave the room and he turns back to Bobby and Don.
“Just don’t break each other’s hearts,” he winks.
Before Bobby or Don can say anything, Joe closes the door, scattered voices muffled in the hallway while the room itself is now too quiet. Don finally removes the pillow from his head to gaze at the ceiling and then at Bobby, trailing his fingers down Bobby’s spine.
“What the hell just happened?” Bobby stares at the closed door, eyebrows so tightly knit together Don thinks he’ll rip his face in half.
Don can only shrug, still in disbelief, still wondering if he’s just imagining all of this.
“Well, I guess that’s one worry off our list.” Bobby smiles down at Don before bringing him in for a soft kiss. “Now that we’re alone, we can take it nice and slow.”
Don’s stomach flips at this and he sighs as Bobby kisses along his jawline, climbs on top of him to bring them closer. Wrapping his arms around Bobby, Don melts into every touch, every breath that Bobby gives him. He’s floating away to a place where only Bobby can take him and a flame sparks to life inside his heart.
That is, until Shorty bursts into the room once again.
“I didn’t even grab what I came for!”
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everafterrebel · 3 months
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Winx club comics: Viz VS Papercutz
(Details undercut)
Around 2011 Viz started publishing the Winx Club comics in the USA. They only ended up publishing 18 issues out of Winx's library of 200+ total issues, and the issues they picked weren't even in order; they randomly jumped ahead and started releasing "season 3" and "season 4" issues and skipped dozens of comics.
Last year Pappercutz started releasing their own run of Winx comics, starting fresh from the beginning.
As a Winx Club and comic fan, I have both.
So I was wondering if they had just republished Viz's translations, but as it turns out, they started from scratch.
Most of the dialog is similar. It's not the same, (by far) but you can definitely tell that they were translating from the same source. (most of the time...)
However!!!
There are moments in the comics that make me wonder what the heck was going on. So I thought that I'd point out some of the more odd translating choices that were made. (Sorry for the poor quality of the images.)
In the first comparison, Stella replies with "Those only exist in fairy tales, Bloom! This is reality!" Implying that there are no magical creatures here; this is reality. However, in the Papercutz version, Stella says, "There are magical beings and creatures everywhere. Nothing here is "normal"..." Here she's replying to the fact that Bloom called the creatures "weird" and says that they aren't weird. She is saying that there are magical creatures, and they're normal.
As I said earlier, most of the differences in the translations are pretty similar, but in this case, the meanings are completely different. (From what I remember this happened a few other times too.)
In image 2, either Viz straight up added in extra dialog for Bloom, or Papercutz removed it.
In comparison 3, Bloom's speech bubble moved. (I was able to find an image of this page in Italian, and it looks like Viz had kept the original placement while Papercutz decided to move it. (For some reason?))
In 4, either Viz added arrows or Pappercutz removed them. (Arrows like these usually show up in comics intended for kids to help them read it in the right order when the designers make some creative "box" placements.)
In comparison 5 it looks like Viz forgot a text box and it was left blank for the release. Also, they changed the onomatopoeia to "punch".
^ And this was a reoccurring theme with Viz. They would constantly change the onomatopoeias to either more English sounding ones or just words. (There were still times were they did keep the original onomatopoeias though. Maybe they just got lazy or forgot.)
In 6 we see that either Viz added a text box or Pappercutz removed it.
There were a few other insistence like this. Viz had added a "Meanwhile" box at one point. (Or Pappercutz removed it.)
Now in one of the biggest differences between the two translations: in Viz's version, Sky is called Sky from the start while Papercutz keeps the original version where Sky is pretending to be Brandon until the end of "season 1."
If I had to guess why Viz went through all of the trouble to change Sky and Brandon's names (each and every single time they were mentioned, by the way) it would be because at the same time Viz was publishing these comics the "Nick specials" were being aired. These "specials" condensed the first two seasons of Winx Club into 4, 45 minute "recaps" that were meant to get potential new viewers caught up with the lore without Nick having to re-dub seasons 1 and 2.
And in the specials they removed the "Sky and Brandon name change" subplot.
So theoretically, it would make sense to keep the story consistent.
Honestly though? Even if that was the thought process, I still don't think that they should've done that. They should've just translated the comics as they were. That was their job. A lot of the plot points in the comics wouldn't work within the show and/or are different from the show. (Like Tecna's comic parents.) So it really shouldn't have been a problem with "comic Sky" and "comic Brandon" changing names.
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valeriele3 · 1 year
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My shimejis really love the top part of my laptop huh..
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If you want them I got all of them from Twitter
(If you want a shimeji or don’t know how to download it and etc I linked the download link and added a tutorial below)
I might link them all later or tomorrow
Kazuha
https://twitter.com/uuteki_art/status/1432533205115195399
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1xcZeoWCWedGWMk6sLsXomEwB64N69l3S/view
Cat Xiao
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QYit4V3jSxG24h-eNUW7F46-n_31vW02/view
Xiao
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QZlLJiiAY6nbMGxxsyyQeJTgeaZzkgdH/view
Aether
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1OXniI2jd8edN_ZO9z9RA7ntqe6_zSSOm
Scaramouche
https://twitter.com/search?q=Scaramouche%20Shimeji&src=typed_query&f=top
https://drive.google.com/file/d/14PPrck8vE3BDe8V-RyjpN0Iowa_U8p4Z/view
Venti
https://www.reddit.com/r/Genshin_Impact/comments/ltd5kk/i_discovered_shimejis_a_few_days_ago_and_made_my/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3
https://drive.google.com/file/d/15DNzrzfwvJEmSEjZx2AR_gc8WGNaLaT2/view
Razor
https://twitter.com/batsouppe/status/1366847812059586560?s=20
https://drive.google.com/file/d/15OEgtVXkyT-EF9-S4R23BnespfOeplGh/view
A list of different Shimeji’s from different fandoms <- Not sure if it works or not since I’m about to go to sleep and I just found it
Link above includes fandoms like MHA, Death Note, Jojo, DDLC, MM, Naruto, One Piece, One Punch Man, MLLB(?), Pokémon, Pusheen (<33), Tokyo Ghoul, Vocaloid, Voltron, Yuri!!! On Ice, and etc
~Download~
Click the link then click “Download Now”
Do remember to download Java too or it won’t work
https://www.java.com/en/download/ <- Link for Java Download
Once you have downloaded it and you agreed to the terms or something in Java, find “Shimejiee” in the files. You’ll see that it is a ZIP file. Right click then select/click “Extract All”
After extracting you will find a folder named “Shimejiee” right above the ZIP file. Click the folder then you’ll see “conf” “img” and etc
Click “Shimeji-ee”
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Then a basic Shimeji will appear and you can play around with it
How to “import”/add the character you want as a Shimeji
If you click “img” you will find pictures of the basic shimeji. If you can’t find a shimeji of the character you want or want to make it yourself, you can save the pictures and draw your character on it using a program of your choice(Make sure to remove the template/basic shimeji you used after you’re done)
If you’re too lazy for that(like me) download the ZIP Files I linked above (The Kazuha, Scaramouche, Aether, Venti, and etc)
If you don’t like any of the characters I linked above then you can try to find one that you like. (Side note: If you want an Enstars,TWST, Paralive character I found none on Twitter so try looking somewhere else. And please tag/tell me if you do find one..! I want them on my screennnn 😭)
Then do the same process
After downloading, extract it, click on the folder, and click “Shimeji-ee” and there you go! The character will drop down and land on the bottom of your screen
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Completely forgot to add!
If the language is different when you want to like control or something your Shimeji(ex. You can allow your shimeji to be able to clone or not by pressing “Allowed Behaviors”) click the second lowest bar/option and select the language you want (In my case it’s English)
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Chapter Contents
(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on Ao3
Rated M
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Having a full day’s rest and doing little to no strenuous activity had done the trick. Satoru was feeling loads better come the next morning, sitting across from Hannah during breakfast. Makoto hadn’t even finished setting the table when the jujutsu sorcerer began filling his bowl with fried rice and smoked sausages, noticing the funny look his wife was giving him.
“Wha?” he said, stuffing his face with food like a chipmunk. “M‘ungry.”
A small smile tugged on the sides of Hannah’s mouth, though it wasn’t mocking. “I can see that,” she said, scooping some scrambled eggs into her bowl. “Suppose this means your headache is gone?”
Satoru caught Makoto’s warning glare as she came back with a pot of coffee, her cautionary way of reminding him to behave like a gentleman, and so as not to incur the housekeeper's wrath, Satoru wisely chose to swallow his food before speaking. “Yeah,” he reached for the sugar bowl as Makoto poured the coffee into his mug. “It’s gone”
Hannah’s face relaxed. “Good,” she lightly exhaled, pinching some fried rice between her chopsticks and bringing it to her lips. “I’m glad.”
Satoru took another bite. “And you?” he asked. “Have you got everything…situated?”
She flicked her eyes to meet his for a brief instant, casting them back down on her food. “Almost. I sorted through some of the clothes yesterday, but it’s going to take me a while.”
“Thought so,” he sighed, propping his cheek in his hand, twirling his chopsticks. “I don’t really know what women like, so most of it was just guess work on my part.”
Hannah looked up at him. He couldn't honestly expect her to believe that, could he? Makoto said everything stored within that closet hadn’t been put there without his approval. Given the fabric selection alone, Satoru’s attention to detail was too educated for him “not to know” what women liked. And the notes he stipulated in the sketchbooks gave his secret away: “Remove the sleeves.” “Velvet, not satin.” “Does it come in red?” Hannah thought he’d make a better stylist, maybe even a better designer, than a jujutsu sorcerer.
“I like the clothes,” she finally said, taking a sip of tea. “You have a good eye.”
All she heard from across the table was a soft snort; the closest she’d get to a “thank you.”
For the remainder of breakfast, the two newlyweds ate together in awkward silence, listening to the ticking of the cuckoo clock situated on a wooden dresser, and the crinkling tatami as Makoto cruised in and out of the kitchen with either dirty dishes or another pot of coffee for Satoru.
Growing quite uncomfortable by the silence herself, Makoto cleared her throat and turned to Hannah. “Ma’am, with the young master feeling unwell, it seems I forgot to discuss something important with you the other day.”
Hannah finished chewing and brought a napkin to her mouth. “Oh? Like what?”
Makoto looked at Satoru before looking back at her mistress. “As you are aware, the young master has informed me of your caffeine intolerance, but I’m afraid that’s all I know. And being the lady of the house, it technically falls upon you to choose the meals we eat.”
“Me?” Hannah’s eyes flitted shyly to Satoru. “Are you sure?”
The white-haired sorcerer nodded and jabbed a lazy thumb at Makoto. “I’ll eat whatever she puts in front of me, so go ahead.”
“Alright,” Hannah folded her napkin on her lap and redirected her attention to the housekeeper, “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Anything your heart desires,” replied Makoto like it was no trouble. “The young master prefers I cook traditional meals, but I was thinking I might begin incorporating more English cuisine. Just curious, but how would you feel about kedgeree?”
“Kedgeree?” Hannah’s entire face visibly brightened. “Really?”
Makoto stood proudly, eyes shining. “I did say anything, no?”
Satoru raised his hand like a confused algebra student. “What the heck is kadgeree?”
“Ked-geree,” Hannah corrected, trying not to look too amused by his pronunciation. “It’s a breakfast casserole made with rice, shredded smoked fish, and soft boiled eggs topped with spices.”
“So it’s good, is what you’re saying?”
Hannah didn't hold back her smile this time as hazel brown meshed with turquoise blue. “I’d like to think so, yes.” Although she omitted how she only ate the Indo-English casserole when she was staying at Wasserton, breakfast being the one meal where it was appropriate for an illegitimate to dine with their family (except when they were entertaining.) Lunch and dinner were more formal affairs, and so Hannah usually ate her afternoon meals in the servants’ quarters together with the housestaff, but kedgeree had always been her favorite. “We should try it sometime.”
Satoru hummed as though mulling it over, and went back to taking another bite of food. Smoked fish and rice did sound rather appetizing. Makoto turned to her mistress again.
“I’ll write a new menu each week for you to review, and be sure to include descriptions, if that helps any?”
Hannah nodded and offered her gratitude, while the housekeeper took her empty bowl off the table and headed for the kitchen. Satoru gobbled the last of his sausage and hastily swilled his coffee in such a way that made Hannah’s throat burn. He rose from the table and stretched.
“Oh-kay,” he groaned, reaching for the ceiling till he heard various bones separate and pop. “Ugh. Ready to go?”
Hannah winced from the crackling bones. “Go?” she said. “Go where?”
Satoru rolled his eyes, and searched his pockets for his sunglasses. “Training in the heat of the day is a real pain in the ass. Best to do it now while it’s still early.”
“Training?” The food in Hannah’s stomach sank like stones. “You’re serious?”
Satoru said nothing and placed the sunglasses on his nose, giving her a devilish smile. “Serious as a heart attack, Princess.” His head cocked to the door. “Hop to it. We’re killing daylight.”
And just like that.
The next three weeks would become quite the undertaking for Hannah. Like a baptism through fire, her days were spent balancing the many tasks required of a jujutsu sorcerer’s wife. There was no set routine, or light workload. Each day presented a new lesson in need of quick learning.
During that first day of training, Satoru had her running cardio through the mountainous terrain and the higher altitude had Hannah so out of breath, the poor girl thought she would faint. Her feeble legs were shaking from having to propel herself up the steep inclines, Satoru barking closely at her heels. “Sheesh, you’re a turtle,” he jeered from behind. “I know little old ladies with asthma faster than you.” Hannah pretended not to hear him and kept her eyes on the dirt road, panting heavily until they stopped for a short break before continuing onwards.
Some unlucky days he had her jogging with weights lodged in her hands, or tied snugly around her waist like a counterpoise, “for strength conditioning,” as he often put it. Those were the mornings Hannah wanted to fall to the ground and tap out, but Satoru wouldn't let her. “Ah, ah, ah,” he would tut, wagging an admonitory finger. “I thought this was part of our agreement; No training, no Sukuna fingers.” Then her motivation was restored when he added, “You want to save those people, right?” and she would somehow find the energy to finish the mile.
After two full laps around the school, Satoru had her doing push-ups, three sets with 15 reps each, but would only count the ones where her nose touched the ground or else force her to start over. He applied the same rule for sit-ups, demanding she lift herself all the way before starting another. Several failed push-ups and sit-ups later Hannah was sure she’d be sick. She struggled similarly with the lunges, the squats, the jumping jacks. His rationale for the grueling cardio was twofold; endurance training and increasing her muscle mass. “Gotta whip ya into shape before I teach you how to land a decent punch.”
Following that tortious first week, it quickly became apparent that the Six Eyes wielder was missing a few marbles.
Hannah remembered one infamous morning when the white-haired sorcerer somehow managed to sneak inside her bedroom and thought it would be fun to dunk an entire bucket of ice water on her, all because she unknowingly slept past her alarm on accident. Suffice it to say, the little woman was not happy.
“Are you crazy?!’ she cried as she leapt from her futon, wrapping her thin arms around herself to regain whatever warmth she could.
Satoru let out a low chuckle. “Maybe,” and squatted down to show her an innocent, closed-eyed smile. “You wouldn't wake up, so I did it for you. Aren’t I nice?”
Hannah glowered menacingly. “Quite,” she said, shivering from the cold. She looked down at the tin bucket he was holding. Her teeth chattered. “May I ask how y-you got in here?”
The sorcerer gave his usual shrug. “Through the door, obviously.” His smile widened as her glare deepened. “You let me in.”
Her eyes widened. “What? N-No I didn’t.”
“Yeah you did,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “I asked if I could come inside and you said ‘yes.’”
This was met with more scrutiny. “I don’t believe you,” Hannah insisted, rubbing her arms. “Makoto said no one d-dead or alive would be able to enter. You must’ve done something to break the seal.”
His smug grin smoothly faded. Glacial blue eyes lingered on her for a frosty moment and Hannah could do nothing except hold her breath as his Six Eyes beckoned closer; nacreous, spell-binding, otherworldly. He was seeing something her eyes could not, but what?
“I’ll be waiting outside,” he replied, rising slowly from the floor. “Eat your breakfast and come out,” and then she watched him vacate the bedroom, empty bucket in tow, like it never even happened.
Hannah blinked once, twice, a third time.
Forget marbles. Gojo Satoru was undoubtedly the strangest, yet aggravating, person she’d ever met, not only in appearance, but in character.
For one, the man never stopped talking, ever, constantly transitioning from one random topic to the next. One moment they would be discussing modern architecture, and then on a whim they were debating whether Hi-Chews tasted better than Kororo gummies (Hannah couldn’t say), followed by an interesting fact he recently learned about blue-ringed octopuses and how they were no bigger than a golf ball and packed enough venom to kill at least 26 people, “and if they bite you, you’re basically screwed because there’s no antivenom.” He also denied being a picky eater, but Hannah noticed how he would avoid sansho and wasabi like the plague. She made a mental note that he didn’t enjoy spicy foods as much as she did.
Satoru was definitely not a morning person and was normally the last to arrive for breakfast — Actually, he was last to arrive for just about everything with a designated time — Although he was probably the fastest speed reader on the planet coupled with a photographic memory, which Hannah discovered one morning while waiting for him at the dining table. She was immersed in a Bible passage, enjoying a fresh cup of chamomile tea, when out of nowhere Satoru swiped the RNJB straight from her hands and demanded she reveal what it was. When she told him, his expression soured. “No way, this is it?” he flipped it open, “I thought it would be bigger,” and then he took the holy book, beginning to end, and permitted the pages to cascade through his fingers like a large stack of playing cards. Hannah watched his blue eyes shift rapidly from side to side, the paper awash in a blur as he neared the Book of Revelation. Wait a minute, was he actually reading that? No one could read that fast.
“Wanna make a bet?” he challenged when Hannah unconsciously spoke this out loud. He closed the Bible shut. “Quiz me then. Ask me something only a person who bothered to read this thing would know.”
And quiz him she did. Hannah asked the hardest thought questions her scrappy little brain could muster; “What items were stored in the Ark of the Covenant?” “Who replaced Judas Escariot after the Ascension?” “What was the name of Adam and Eve’s third son?” To her immense frustration, Satoru answered every question she hurled at him like a reputable scholar, quoting the exact Bible verse and chapter, verbatim, just to rub it in her face.
“But…But that’s impossible,” she floundered once she could think of nothing else. “It takes decades to study on that level. Surely you’ve read it before.”
Satoru had to force down a smile as he handed her back the Bible. “Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather have my eyes gouged than read that crap again,” and finally sat down to pour himself a mug of sugary coffee.
His words were a saber. Hannah attempted to mask her hurt as she kneeled to join him. While Satoru probably meant nothing by it, he had a habit of being brutally honest to the point of sounding cruel. She didn’t share that same perview when it came to his beliefs, but then of course, their personalities were basically night and day. She wondered if anyone knew how devoted he was to Buddhist meditation.
As the young wife confided in the ceiling one night, frustrated at how hopeless it was to fall asleep, her nose recognized the pleasant aroma of charred sandalwood and benzoin, the smell of burning incense. She checked her watch for the hour, 2:43 am, and sneakily cracked open her door to investigate. Having to squint as she crept along the dimly lit hallway, she saw a room glowing a tad brighter than the others and recognized it was the parlor hosting the Buddhist altar where the Gojo ancestors were commemorated next to the kamidana. Tiptoeing ever closer, she peeked around the corner to see Satoru sitting upright in the Lotus Position, eyes closed, legs folded as he softly chanted the mantra, “namu amida butsu,” over and over again in a hypnotic rhythm, a thread of prayer beads looped inside one palm. She observed him like that for a few minutes, the lanterns illuminating his broad physique and white hair like a sunset on untouched snow, a crystal Buddha. Even when he wore a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants, she was arrested by his beauty. A few minutes passed. Then, like a flower petal floating in the wind, she quietly made the journey back to her room, settled into her futon, and fell asleep to the words, “namu amida butsu,” in her head. She would repeat this early morning ritual more than a few times, knowing her husband would likely be awake during the hour, meditating. He hadn’t caught her in the act thus far. Fingers crossed.
When Satoru wasn’t around for her to stalk, Hannah’s main priority was familiarizing herself with the estate; going over finances, responding to congratulatory letters, and memorizing long family histories under the sagely council of Makoto. She learned that much of the Gojo’s wealth came primarily from stock market exchanges, buying low, selling high. However, for several generations, the Gojo clan was one of the top sumo wrestling profiteers in the nation, training the winningest fighters across the land, but a bitter dispute against a rivaling family changed everything and the Gojo’s were pressured to sell their livelihood before making it big in the timber industry. The career change paid off. Sumo steadily went on the decline, but the Gojo family did not. Hannah discovered there was not one, but four additional properties tied to the Gojo name; an opulent townhouse in Kyoto, a tobacco merchant’s home in Osaka, a minka farmhouse in Gokayama, and a beachside cottage overlooking the Pacific on one of the Kyushu islands. As the current figurehead of the family, Satoru was obligated to live in the Tokyo residence, the crown jewel of the family, which to Hannah’s surprise encompassed not only a tea garden, but fourteen acres of strolling gardens with huge sections of graveled karesansui framed around a ginormous lake.
Each week, a team of gardeners would mow the grass, trim the hedges, and sweep dead foliage off the stepped-stoned path, connecting the physical realm with the spiritual. The raked gravel could symbolize the vast open sea, while a rock, smooth or jagged, could be a towering mountain, a sleeping tortoise, or a crouching tiger. Hannah knew that to enter the Japanese garden required “mindful abandon.” To humble oneself to the elements.
There was nothing she found more humbling than watching gasps of koi swim underneath a red soribashi bridge that adjoined a small island where a traditional teahouse lay hidden, or feeding fresh grapes to the mallard ducks grazing peacefully beside a raft of water lilies, splashing their tail feathers and diving their bottle-green heads into the murky water below. The strolling gardens were a horticulturist’s dream come true. They had everything; dogwoods, cherry blossoms, Japanese maple, black pines. A Chinese orangery cultivared in succulent mandarins and apricots that would be plucked from their boughs come summertime. Trimmed bushels of rhododendrons and azaleas and miniature wisteria trees. Hannah loved the stone lanterns sculpted to look as though they were donning wide-brimmed hats, and would close her eyes and listen to the bamboo chimes sway gently in the breeze, the trickling of the waterfall, and take in the sweet, sweet perfume of wild lemongrass. For years to come this garden would be her sanctuary, her safe space. Her nightmares couldn’t haunt her here. She could be content, safe from the night terrors.
Jujutsu High was once part of the Tokyo estate, until Satoru’s great grandfather donated the land to build a jujutsu school on par with that of Kyoto. By affiliation, this made Hannah an honorary member of the educational board, and by the end of the month she attended her first meeting on Satoru’s behalf. She didn’t have to talk too much - thank God - except introduce herself and take a seat, but the elders in the room made for an unpleasant welcome, eyeing her coldly and whispering in each other’s ears before the proceedings began. Were these the higher-ups Satoru warned her about, she thought. If so, what would they have to ridicule? She hadn’t done anything inappropriate or spoken out of turn. Makoto even dressed her in kimono, a seafoam houmongi with pearlescent butterflies stitched at the bottom.
Unless required to leave school premises, which was strictly reserved for Sunday mass, Hannah started wearing kimono on a regular basis. Every morning, after her training sessions with Satoru and a warm bath, Makoto would instruct her young mistress how to wrap the nagajuban and kimono just right so the ground wouldn't dirty the skirt, and how to tie an obi into a “drum knot,” and how to walk in zori sandals without twisting an ankle. She would also delegate to her which color combinations were best suited for each season and which combinations were to be avoided. With enough practice, Hannah was soon able to dress herself without help.
“Woah,” said Satoru when she stepped out wearing a blue striped komon, accentuated by a navy sash covered in daisies.
Hannah was startled to see him standing in the hallway and froze. “Does it look alright?” she asked nervously, giving the kimono a once over. “I can change into something else if you want.”
A furtive blush dappled his cheeks. “No,” he hastened his eyes to the floor. “You look goo — er — nice,” the sorcerer cleared his throat, “You look nice.”
Makoto also began straightening Hannah’s hair using a special heating technique called “thermal reconditioning.” Hannah had to sit very still as the housekeeper mixed, worked, and washed the straightening solution from her hair, then flatten it several times with a hot iron to permanently break down the keratin structure, leaving the auburn strands glossy smooth. The time consuming process would need to be repeated again in six months, but Hannah didn’t mind listening to Makoto relay stories of her past while she maneuvered behind the mirror.
“When I was first hired as one of the nannies, the young master was no taller than a boxwood shrub,” she chuckled, running the hot iron through Hannah’s hair. “Used to follow me everywhere I went, begging for sweets, making me laugh. I was the only servant he liked so it seemed, though I couldn’t tell you why. He was prone to all sorts of mischief at that age.” She shook her head. “Some things never change.”
Hannah suddenly looked up at both their reflections. “The only servant? There were more?”
The housekeeper halted her ironing. “For a time, yes,” she replied, holding a lock of warmly pressed hair. “But when the young master became clan leader, he sent most of them away.”
“Except you?”
Makoto glanced at her mistress through the mirror and smiled. “Yes, ma’am,” she said modestly. “Except me.” The housekeeper carefully switched the hot iron for a fine-toothed comb. “Now, let’s finish straightening this long hair of yours. I think I’ll want to tweak your eyebrows too while I’m at it. They’re looking a bit uneven.”
Upon putting the finishing touches to her hair and perfecting her eyebrows, Makoto also placed Hannah on a strict skincare regimen that she was to uphold morning, noon, and night, on top of learning how to curl her eyelashes, apply foundation with a kabuki brush, and color her lips. By the end, Hannah had to admit that she felt more presentable, but the housekeeper’s beautifying efforts weren't solely for aesthetics. It was important that Hannah master all her faculties in preparation for chanoyu.
As it were, the tea ceremony was no ordinary social event, but the epitome of Japanese culture, where people from all walks of life sat together to participate in a ritual meal and drink tea as equals. For Hannah, hosting a Japanese tea ceremony would become her greatest test; A trial by which the whole of jujutsu society would serve to judge. A successful ceremony would bring honor to her new family. Anything less would bring ruin. She had much to study, but Hannah couldn’t have been given a better teacher.
Like a love-struck poet, Makoto spoke of Japanese tea as though it were a deity, revering the camellia leaves like one would French wine or an expensive Scottish whiskey. How could one person be the housekeeper, the butler, the chef, the maid, the valet, a kimono teacher, a beautician - essentially a Swiss army knife of service and dedication - and now also a tea master? Hannah sat in awed silence as the woman went into grand detail about the history of tea and how it was first brought over to Japan from China, later inspiring the “Land of Wa” to create its own tea ceremony, with its own structure and rules, till Sen no Rikyu emerged in the 16th century and began introducing the idea of wabi-sabi, laying the groundwork for the tea ceremony as it’s practiced today.
Makoto would teach her the subtle nuances between Japanese teas and how to tell them apart by leaf, fragrance, color, and taste. Since most were quite caffeinated, Hannah took tiny sips of each and tried memorizing the mouthfeel, flavor, and sweet umami on her tongue. Makoto had her drink various sencha teas, two seperate culinary and ceremonial grade matcha teas, high quality gyokuro grown in Uji that had been hand picked from the fields, and common bancha teas found in local grocery stores sold around the country. Even though the tea ceremony only used matcha, tasting and differentiating other teas was integral because Hannah would have to select these teas when housing guests.
There were also the tea utensils and how to correctly use them during the actual ceremony. For example, when cleaning a tea scoop, the host was to take a silk cloth, called the fukusa, and fold it into a long triangle, making sure to tug on the ends for a slight “pop,” before turning it vertically on its side and using the circumference of her hand to wrap and fold the cloth into thirds, which was then used to wipe the tea scoop exactly three times. Because her hands shook from nerves, this step became very difficult for Hannah to get right. “Mistakes are a part of life, ma’am,” Makoto would say each time Hannah folded incorrectly and the cloth came undone. “Ganbatte kudasai.”
But sometimes “doing her best” was a hard ask when in the midst of their tea lessons, Satoru would unexpectedly pop in to show off his vastly superior tea-making skills, executing the steps without error. However, during non-tea-ceremonial-related occasions he would randomly appear, looking to satisfy his burning curiosity when his wife was alone.
“So what’s the difference between a Western sorcerer and a jujutsu sorcerer?”
Hannah peered up from Sei Shonagon’s A Pillow Book to see Satoru’s tall frame looming over her, shaded by the old fig tree she was relaxing underneath. Makoto had released her from her tea lessons for the day.
Her head tilted. “What do you mean?”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I mean, why are they classified different? Aren’t they the same?”
Hannah folded the corner of the page she was on so she could easily find it again and closed the book, giving him her full, undivided attention. the book, giving him her full, undivided attention. “No, I don’t think so. Jujutsu encompasses a darker type of magic, right?” Satoru affirmed this with a nod as Hannah continued. “And I don’t believe jujutsu sorcerers have ordained exorcists at their disposal either.”
Satoru’s face scrunched in confusion. “Ordained? What, like monks or something?”
He watched the woman lightly bop herself on the temple. “Ah, that’s right,” she laughed dryly. “Shinto and Buddhist priests perform exorcisms too. Though I’m guessing you don’t give them fancy titles like ‘Monsignor’ or ‘The Honorable Reverend.’ I’ve met a few exorcists with those titles.” She lifted her head, looking up at the rustling fig leaves. “I wonder if Fr. O‘Malley is a monsignor and doesn’t want anyone to know, given how unpopular the title is nowadays.”
Satoru lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t know what the heck she was talking about. “You’ll have to ask him — and for the record, not all monastics perform exorcisms,” he sat himself beside her, playfully poking her in the arm, “and you still haven’t answered my initial question, so spill.”
Hannah's face grew warm at the gesture. That was another oddity about Satoru. The man saw no issue getting up close and personal with people, be it stranger or otherwise. They were now bucked shoulder to shoulder. She could smell the incense and coffee on his clothes. “Well, the way I see it,” she began, fiddling with the pages in her book, “there exists two kinds of Western sorcerer; An ordained exorcist, whose primary job is to cast out demonic spirits from a possessed person, and a ‘true sorcerer,’” she made air quotes, “who then uses magic to eradicate those demonic spirits. They also eradicate Curses and — ”
Satoru waved for her to stop. “Wait, wait, wait, I'm lost now. You’re telling me demonic spirits and Curses are different too?”
Drat. Hannah realized her mistake yet again. She had used the Japanese word “yokai” (strange apparition) as her translation for “demonic spirits,” when she should’ve used the more appropriate word “akuma” (devil). It was hard for her to remember all these complex definitions. In Japanese folklore there existed a bevy of supernatural creatures, each with their own unique characteristics and narratives. There were oni, sometimes pronounced “ki,” who were frightening looking ogres with protruding fangs and long horns, often wielding heavy clubs and could be both evil or benevolent depending on the encounter. In early February during Setsubun, one might witness the “cleansing” of these ogres with the throwing of beans and the phrase “Oni wa soto, fuku wa uchi” (Oni get out, luck come in). There were also akuma, which were more akin to the Western image of demons; a being that existed within a fiery, evil hellscape. And then there were the most fascinating creatures of all known as yokai.
Anomalous, shape-shifting, and spooky, there was no single way to define yokai. They were believed to be mysterious spirits or monsters that roamed the outskirts of Japan, waiting for an unsuspecting human to accidentally stumble across their path. Stories were told of scaly turtle-like imps (kappa) that lured young children to their ponds before drowning them, or shape-shifting fox spirits (kitsune) who bewitched and possessed people, commonly taking the guise of a beautiful woman, or spiky leafed trees (ninmenju) that sprouted human heads instead of blossoms and bled when cut.
Given the striking similarities, it was an ongoing debate as to whether Curses were separate from yokai, or whether they were ostensibly one in the same. Regardless, such arguments held little sway in the eyes of the West, who harbored its own forgone conclusions about supernatural creatures, especially when discussing angels and demons, who were shapeshifters like yokai, but were strongly divided amongst the forces of good and evil, something yokai and Curses were not — Anywho, the whole thoroughfare was very complex and made for a terribly long conversation, which Satoru gathered from the look on his wife’s face and brushed the question aside.
“Okay, scratch that. So a jujutsu sorcerer is equivalent to a ‘true’ sorcerer, and an ordained exorcist is its own thing? Is that it?”
The seer pressed her lips together. “I suppose. Although there are ordained exorcists who can also wield magic, so the two are often conflated, if that makes sense.”
Satoru grunted, finding her explanation unhelpful. Since Japan outpaced the rest of the world’s sorcerer population by a scale of 9/10, many were convinced that the existence of sorcerers and Curses were strictly Japanese phenomena. In other words, everyone knew about jujutsu sorcerers, more or less, but that couldn’t be said about other populations. Satoru was inquisitive by nature. He didn’t like not being in “the know,” and finally here was someone who could answer questions that long ago would’ve earned him a cold hard slap on the wrist.
That was the thing about Hannah.
To her credit, she wasn’t the spoiled brat he had originally imagined. While she was horrendously shy, lacked self-confidence, and tripped on her own two feet, she was also attentive and sincere and went about her business unobtrusively. She wasn’t fond of loud, overbearing colors and hardly, if ever, asked him for money. She was purposeful when she spoke and was quick to forgive when he pushed his boundaries, like the incident with the ice water, and she didn’t become annoyed when he asked a question. Rather, she engaged with him and listened to what he had to say, even when he knew he was saying the dumbest shit. Something he was slowly coming to appreciate. Truth was, he liked how much she cared.
And this sense of compassion wasn’t exclusive to people. He couldn’t forget the one time she found a gangly-legged huntsman spider lurking in a corner and not knowing what it was at first gave a loud, girlish shriek, prompting Satoru to rush in and squash the said spider, whereby Hannah began to cry, aggrieved that he felt it necessary to maime such a “harmless creature.”
“I didn’t want you to kill it,” she sniffed, wiping her teary eyes. “How would you like it if someone came along and squished you?”
Satoru could only stand there and take it on the chin. Women; Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. But irrespective of her unnatural empathy for creepy-crawlies, he found it a little cute that she was waking in the middle of the night just to spy on him. Silly girl, of course he knew. The Six Eyes saw past everything, even when fully closed, though a part of him didn’t want her to know that for fear it would scare her off. One way or another, that’s normally what happened; people were always afraid. And if it was any consolation, he’d been spying on her too.
Whenever he heard her singing in the bath, Satoru couldn’t resist taking a quick peak, using the Six Eyes to see through the bathroom walls, but kept the erections to a minimum…Well, he tried to anyway. Sometimes when she hit a particular high note and turned to him full frontal, his mind would draw a massive blank and the contracted muscles bundled around his groin would involuntarily relax, allowing blood to flow inside the spongy cavities and take hold. Stretching. Expanding. Oh so good. Unlike the previous times, however, the sensation left him feeling a tad…icky. Hannah wasn’t some no-name porn star he could heedlessly jerk off to and then forget like a used condom, and yet he was treating her no different. If she ever found out, what would she think? What would she say? Probably nothing nice. Despite how things started between them, he wanted her to like him, or at least willingly talk to him. There was so much she didn’t know about everyday life.
Take technology for instance. The woman knew next to nothing about technology. Earlier that month, he’d gifted her a brand new iPhone 6 and not until he saw her lost expression did he understand she had no idea what she’d been given. “I wasn’t permitted to have one,” she said sheepishly, as though attesting to a crime. Satoru spent the duration of that evening hovering over the little woman, teaching her how to open the lock screen, how to dial a phone number, and how to type a text message and search the internet. Still to this day, his wife is unable to text using both thumbs and holds the phone flat in her hand while using her pointer finger to tap on the keyboard, which for a while drove him insane, but he’d eventually make peace with it. Although her knowledge of pop culture was inexcusable.
“C’mon, you’ve had to have seen The Godfather.” he stressed when the subject came up. “You know? The greatest motion picture ever made?”
Hannah shook her head.
“Star Wars?”
Again her head went left to right.
“The Dark Knight? Lord of the Rings?…Elf?”
Every Hollywood blockbuster Satoru listed, Hannah responded with a negative, except for Men in Black weirdly enough, which wasn’t close to being the best Will Smith performance. Nor did it cover Japanese staples like Spirited Away, Hara-kiri, or Bayside Shakedown. It killed him.
“Really, you haven’t seen any of these films?” he said, hands falling to his sides in disappointment. “Nada one?”
Hannah bit her lip and glanced at him warily. “I’ve read most of the books,” she squeaked. “Does that count?”
From that day forward, Satoru made it a priority that once a week Hannah sat down to watch a movie with him and, as an act of goodwill, would let her pick the genre. “Except romance,” he emphasized, making an “X” with his arms. “We’re not watching any of that garbage.” Though he must’ve been joking when he said this because a good quarter of his collection were rom-coms.
Unfortunately, Hannah couldn’t say these movie nights were particularly enjoyable since every few minutes or so, Satoru would forget where he was and spoil the scene, or worse, spoil the ending, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop, nor condemn the obscene amount of butter he drizzled on the popcorn because in a physical sense he appeared alive and well, but Hannah knew he was tired. She knew how hard he’d been working; traveling, exorcizing Curses, haggling with the higher-ups, waking at the crack of dawn to train her, and doing it all over again. If watching a movie one day out of the week was his way of relaxing, then she would do her best not to complain. After everything that transpired over the last month, things had begun to take a turn for the better.
Aloof, scatterbrained, and eclectic, Hannah initially thought Satoru a tough nut to crack, but after spending an inordinate amount of time together, perhaps a better analogy was a rough diamond; only until you looked under the light, very closely, could you see the tiny fractures sparkling within. That being said, he had difficulty opening up, jabbering for hours on end without saying really anything at all, never personal, never too deep. Although sometimes when they got to talking and the film credits rolled, the mask would slip right off.
“I fuckin’ hate this job,” he admitted to her one night, resting his long legs atop the coffee table, while massaging his aching eyes.
Hannah’s own eyes deflected from the television screen, the half-empty popcorn bowl sitting comfortably in her lap. They’d just finished watching Disney’s Hercules and were about to watch The Aristocats next. The hollowness in his voice worried her. “What makes you say that?”
Satoru sighed deeply through his nose. He’d lost interest in the movie roughly forty minutes ago. “Curses are conjured from negative emotions wrought by humans,” he said, staring blankly at the scars lining his palm. “Envy, revenge, anger, despair. We could excorcize every Curse in this country, find all the Sukuna fingers before they fully manifested, and it still wouldn’t be enough,” he balled his fist, “Maybe Suguru was right. Maybe humanity is too far gone to save.”
“Suguru?” Hannah’s brows contracted. “Who’s that?”
His eyes quickly flicked to her. “Nobody,” he muttered, before looking at the television. “Just some guy I used to work with.”
Hannah bowed her head and slowly leaned forward. “Well…would you like to know what I think?” She placed the popcorn bowl on the table, enticing him to listen. She caught a slight trace of turquoise blue focused on her. “I think what you do is important. Because of you a mother didn’t have to bury her newborn baby, a little boy didn’t have to get his leg amputated from a curse infection, and an old man got to live longer to see his grandchildren grow up. People like you make a difference, Satoru.”
But as she said this, the sorcerer turned away. He’d heard the same speech before. “What’s the point? We can’t save them all,” he murmured.
“No, you can’t,” Hannah whispered sadly, knowing his words were true. “Like you said, there's terrible evil in this world,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “but there’s also a lot of good. And if there’s a way to protect even a little of that goodness, doesn’t that make the fight worth it? Don’t you think having a little good in this world is better than having none?”
Satoru wheeled his head to look at her, Six Eyes blue as a cloudless sky. Is that what she told herself when the nightmares became too real? When she would cry out in the dead of night and beg someone, anyone, to come save her from the monsters she faced in her dreams?
“I wish I never had it,” he recalled her saying, and now several weeks after the fact, Satoru was beginning to understand what she meant. He couldn’t confirm to what extent, but Hannah’s visions were afflicting her almost every night, seemingly more morose and violent than the last. The walls weren’t soundproof. He could make out her whimpers emanating from across the halls. “Please,” she would weep in strained English, “help me.”
Gravely concerned for her mistress, Makoto once tried breaking the seal with a counter charm, a powerful disarming spell inked on a white tag, but the incantation swiftly rebounded upon making contact with the door and nearly engulfed the hallway in an inferno of bright purple flames. It was no good. The seal was indestructible. Sorcerer or not, nobody was getting in from the outside. They’d have to wait for Hannah to awaken on her own. It worked once with the ice water. Perhaps it would work again.
Satoru didn’t have to wait long to find out.
Late one night when he was returning home from another mission, trudging tiredly up the dimly lit hallway, his ears detected the sound of Hannah crying in her bedroom. Had he opened his door too quickly and closed it shut, he would’ve missed it.
“Sa…”
Satoru froze stiff, fingers hooked around the latch. Could it be — was she?
“Sa…u”
He glanced cautiously towards the other side, seeing her tiny figure through the walls on the ground, thrashing under the blankets like a butterfly tangled in a web, desperately wanting to be freed. The thought reminded him of that lousy hair clip he returned on her nightstand weeks ago. He walked over and pressed his ear to the door, her voice clear as a bell.
“Satoru.”
Nope. He wasn’t imagining things. That was definitely his name she was calling. But was it enough? Would it let him in like last time?
His hand gripped the shoji handle and yanked it gently to the right.
The door cracked a tiny sliver.
Ha! Success.
Quickly, he stepped into the room brimming with paulownias and looked down at his foreign bride, her pretty face contorted as though in pain; skin sweaty, teeth gritted, glistening tears streaming down her cheeks. His chest lurched. She looked so frail, so weak, trapped inside that limbo state of neither sleep nor real consciousness, but Satoru knew his orders. He was not to wake her. He was not to disturb or inhibit the visions by any means. He could do nothing except watch the little woman go it alone. The inaction made him feel powerless, a horrible mixture of both pity and subdued agitation.
“No,” she cried out again, voice breaking from the violent sobs that overcame her body. “Ple-e-ease.”
Fuck. It had been like this for weeks. Orders be damned. Those old fogies could go drown themselves at the bottom of the Sumida river. Satoru knelt on the floor.
“Hannah?” he said, cupping her cheek and tapping it lightly. “Oi, you’re dreaming, Hannah,” he grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook, “Hannah. Wake up.” Her head lulled. Auburn hair clung to the sweat and tears on her cheeks as more sobs followed. She squirmed in his hold.
Running out of available options, Satoru was tempted to place two fingers on her forehead and disrupt the vision with Cursed Energy, but found himself reluctant to do so. He didn’t know the effects of using spells on people during powerful visions. It could easily backfire similarly to the charm Makoto placed on the door. What if he gave her irreparable brain damage or made her permanently blind? Maybe it wasn’t good of him to come here after all.
“No,” Hannah begged, her hand grappling for air as though reading his mind, “Please don’t,” she sobbed harder, “don’t go.”
Without a momentary thought, his palm found hers, tracing the smooth skin with his thumb in an effort to soothe, giving it a tender squeeze. This woman had shown him actual kindness when few else did and asked nothing in return.
“I'm not going anywhere,” he whispered, caressing her dollike hand in the moonlit dark. “I promise.”
Refusing to leave, the sorcerer stayed by her side the whole night, holding her hand, until the sun trickled in the next morning, secretly making his exit before those innocent hazel eyes flitted open.
Like always, Hannah would remember none of it.
Chapter Contents
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sillyfudgemonkeys · 11 months
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Unraveling the PQ(1&2) Timelines
In the spirit of P5T and figuring out where it takes place....Let’s do PQ! Whether you’ve figured it out or just want a guide to reference back, here’s the post for you! So looking at the dates and what is told.....:
PQ1:
Side P3:  The date Liz is telling us the story is unclear, she states "On the night of a typhoon merely a few days ago" and then the game states September 20, 2009 (aka last day of typhoon). So Liz’s story/Shinji’s cooking should be not long after 09/20/09, possibly between 9/25-10/3.
Side P4: stated to be Sunday, Oct 30, 2011 (after the pageant has ended, begins with a premonition for PQ1 before it takes place). The ending seems to be a variation on the Tues 10/11 study group scene
PQ2:
P3: 9/10-10/3? 2009, 9/10 at the earliest since that is when Tziah Block first opens, and we see them there. 
P3P: Somewhere between  9/16-10/2 2009 (I believe they mention Shinji cooking for the team, which is an event in his actual SL, thus I calculated the dates that SL event could happen at the earliest vs the latest). (2/12/24 edit: see below for explanation, but the dates might be closer to 10/1-10/2 now)
P4: Aprox dates 10/30-11/4 or 11/5 2011 (beauty competition seems to have happened since Teddie is seen in his crossdressing outfit, but Nanako hasn't been kidnapped).
P5: Somewhere around 10/29-10/30ish? 2016, ending is sometime after that but before 11/18 (aka Sae’s calling card date), they mention the current dungeon is moving along nicely so there’s probs a lot of time before that. 
Hikari during PQ2:  is in high school. Year somewhere between 2014-2016 (P5 is 2016). Unsure if she is a 1st, 2nd or 3rd year. 2014 is when Mako would've been a 1st year.
Hikari in PQ2′s ending/epilogue: 2016, same time as P5 epilogue, stated to still be a high school student, unsure if she is a 1st, 2nd or 3rd year.
I’ll need to run through them again (these are notes from when I went through it the first time, but I def need a refresher), PQ1 for the most part is def locked in tbh (I mean they give us the dates at the beginning of said games, at least when the Q1 events took place). Edit: PQ1 side P3 ending could be between 9/21-10/3 (I have a feeling something is happening between 9/21-9/24 which is why I didn’t choose an earlier date but it could be one of those, again these are older notes from a few years ago so I need to go back and check)
The only ones up in the air are the endings. PQ2 is a bit more.......loosey goosey. I’m tempted to say P3/P/4 are around the same time as PQ1....either because there’s a timeline where PQ1 didn’t happen OR right after PQ1 their asses got yeeted into PQ2 soon after akfjlsjf
If you have any thoughts/suggestions to help narrow it down, I’d be up for it! 
I guess P3/5D is next. And to make a timeline after that. 
Feb 12th, 2024 Edit: It’s possible that, at least on the FeMC’s side (since she was asleep in her dorm room for the events of PQ2, and we dunno how much time passes for P3/4/5 since waking up) she’s shown her uniform. It’s the sees one which they wear regardless of weather iirc. But she was studying before falling asleep so she most likely wasn’t going to Tartarus (tho tbh every1 on both P3 sides are wearing armbands for some gd reason outside Tar so it’s possible that the devs forgot/were too lazy to remove them). 
BUT if they did remember the timeline and weren’t just lazy with the models, it’s possible that the possible timeframe for PQ2 (at least on FeMC’s side) is 10/1-10/2 (with Shinji’s SL in consideration)
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rmegars · 9 months
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completed on 8/5/2023
character's name is Yuánshǔ (yuanshu's fine) (I don't use the tone mark things out of laziness sometimes lmao)
additional info about her and the drawing below
so this was painful lmao
so basically I was working on a request for a friend whose character is best described as if the wing gundam zero from endless waltz and shiny darkrai had a baby but then I sat there and realized something
"oh" "I can't draw gundam for shit dude"
which is fine and dandy so I decided to just take a break and try drawing something else which leads to an OC I've had on my mind way too much and I sat there like
"hey! she's just an anthropomorphic fox" "how hard can this be?"
then art block fucking killed me and it deadass felt like I forgot how to draw
whoops!!!!!!
but I managed to drag this out after mentally shaking myself in a VC with friends and erasing and redrawing shit fifty different times needed to remind myself that it did not have to be good it just had to be SOMETHING
and now here we are
yuanshu is a fox spirit, aka a kitsune or a huli jing (they're basically the same thing) she was created to protect a dying kingdom on the lunar plane, but then some events happened that led to her being instated as the kingdom's new ruler some of those events that led up to that moment costed her ability to feel emotion / sentiment. she essentially slowly removed aspects of herself that were deemed "impure" by the previous ruler, and over the years and eventually centuries, she became an embodiment of her desire / duty to protect her people. however, to some, she was seen as no more than a weapon or a machine.
or, well, that's how it was in the past. things got better when she met someone, but then things got way worse at some point, leading to her "death" and banishment into oblivion. in this image, this is where nothing went to shit yet
yuánshǔ is heavily based off of junko from touhou project, especially my variant / AU of her for a friend's RP setting. much of yuan shu's current personality and background is pulled from this alternate version of junko, as seen here.
anyone off of twitter or on discord likely saw this character before, as seen in a comic I haven't posted here (yet)
I mostly wound up making yuánshǔ cuz I felt like I was horribly butchering taaran (ponzoan, actually) junko's character lmao I was probably the only person who cared and people have said that I did fine, but. still
like yeah it's an AU, things should be different, but if you make things too different you can't really recognize the fact that the alternate version of this specific character is still supposed to depict this specific character so at that point it felt less like an alternate version of junko and more like. a new character parading around in a junko skin suit. and a white dress. so, yeah, I sat there like "well might as well make her an oc now" except since this is a rp setting, having junko suddenly use a new name and be a whole ass actual furry would be. awkward. and inconsistent.
then again I don't think anyone would've cared about that either lmao it's mostly just me maybe I'm just too prissy about it lmao
(junko isn't the only one I fucked up btw, there's also kaguya and hecatia. maybe someone else too) (so I'll. probably be making characters based off of them too)
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mothwritesstuff · 6 months
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Honestly I haven’t written here in a while, i just kind of forgot about this blog, plus I’ve been so busy with school ; But !! , here’s something new, it’s more of a self insert angst thing just cuz I’ve been feeling sad lately.
This is going to be mauraders specifically, Regulus x James x Remus x Self insert or reader or however you’d like to depict it.
Warnings : mentions of past self harm, mental disorders, mentions of autism, having an overwhelming day, overstimulation, anxiety issues, depression, lack of motivation, + more maybe.
Regulus is a AFAB male whom uses he/they pronouns, James is Transgender FTM && uses he/him pronouns, Remus is a Afab male that uses he/him pronouns && reader / self insert has female anatomy and she/her pronouns are mentioned quite frequently throughout it.
———————————————————
It had been a particularly difficult day for her, everything seemed to be going wrong on her part, first she forgot how to tie her shoes that morning and ended up tripping over her shoelace, so honestly it was just a whole bad thing in her regard.
And then there was that time in potions class where things got too loud and she covered her ears with her hands, things were overwhelming at that moment and Regulus could see it.
Regulus took the hints about how she was overwhelmed or just genuinely having a bad day at that point, he tapped her shoulder trying to get her attention quickly.
She removed her hands from her head and turned to look at Regulus, He grabbed her hand firmly giving it a small squeeze to affirm to her that everything was going to be okay.
It seemed to calm her down a little bit, she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment the loudness of the class putting itself in the back of her brain not making her pay much attention to it.
After class Regulus lead her to her dorm and got her to sit down on her bed surrounded by her safe things, a tiger stuffed animal and a small chew ring, the chew ring helped with her urge to chew on her hand, it just solved some major issues.
Regulus took out his phone quickly and shot a quick text to both Remus && James saying. ;
📲 ; She’s in one of her overwhelmed states again, can you guys come over?.
Before sitting behind her on the bed, allowing her to lean against his chest as he played with her hair, soon enough the door opened and James and Remus walked in, Remus was carrying a bag of Panda Express one of her safe foods, she really liked plain chicken flavored rice for some reason.
anyways, after a while they got her calmed down and got her to tell them what was wrong and what happened for her to be overwhelmed like that.
and then happy ending.
ps. this was very lazy as i wrote this in the timeframe of an hour and a half.
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countlessrealities · 1 year
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Send 🫢 for my muse's reaction to yours walking in while they are changing / getting dressed || Accepting !
@imprvdente sent: oops! Fish @ Morty, so he can be morti-fied (pun intended)
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In hindsight, Morty had to admit that letting Rick take him on adventures the same day he was supposed to meet a friend wasn't the greatest ideas. It wasn't just because their "20-minutes adventures" tended to be much longer than that and consequently caused him to miss the date. Another big issue was that they left him so tired that he forgot about everything else, including the engagements he had been excited about until the moment the scientist had dragged him through a portal.
Also, it was about time that he got a proper lock for his door. His parents weren't fond of the idea, but he was tired of people walking in while he was...enjoying his private time. Or, as in that case, while he was changing.
He and Rick had come back covered in a smelly, sticky slime. His grandfather had handed him a concoction, claiming that it was the most effective way to remove the goo. What he had failed to mention, however, was that it would also leave him stinking of something akin to sulphur. Surely Rick, in all his genius, could have made the thing odourless, right? If he hadn't, it probably was because he had been waiting for the perfect excuse to force him to use it.
Or perhaps he had just been lazy. Both options were equally possible.
When the door opened after a too quick knock, it found him in his underwear, rubbing off the last of the stickiness from his back. His dirty clothes had were in a corner and the room was filled with both the stench of the slime and of Rick's detergent.
Morty froze on his spot, caught off guard, but having found himself in a similar position so often had honed his reflexes, so he quickly snapped out of it. Normally, he would have yelled at whoever had come in to get out, but this time he didn't find himself faced with one of his family members.
Staring at him from the threshold was Fish. His girl friend he might or might not have a crush on.
Morty let out a loud yelp and then had hurried to try and cover himself as much as he could with the towel.
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"Oh g-g-geez! W-What are you...Turn around!" He shouted in a rush, face burning bright red. "I-I'm not decent! ...I-I-I mean! TURN AROUND!"
Maybe he was making too much of a fuss about this, since this wasn't too different from being seeing in a swimming suit. However, the fact was that the teen would have preferred not being seen in one of those either.
Puberty had made him awkwardly lanky and, while he did plenty of exercise during adventures, he had inherited Rick's body type. Long limbs, too thin to be healthy, muscles barely visible, a little too pale. The way he held himself, shoulders hunched and looking uncomfortable in his own skin, didn't help making it better.
Then there were the scars. When they had firstly started to go adventuring together, Morty had insisted that Rick removed them, but nowadays, he used the serum his grandfather had given him only for the ones that were too ugly or too visible. All the others he kept, as a reminder of everything he had been through and of how much he had changed.
Still, he was more scarred than any 14-years-old should be and that left him feeling a little uneasy.
"I-I had...R-Rick and I just came back from, uh, a thing an-and I hadn't realised that...y-you know," he went on, talking too fast and stuttering too much, as he hurried to hop inside a pair of jeans and to grab a clean T-shirt. "J-Just one moment an-and..."
The rest of the sentence was muffled by the yellow cloth slipping over his head. Morty took the chance to take in a calming breath, trying to get a hold of himself and rid of the heat that still coloured his cheeks, before speaking up again.
"Uh, h-have you been waiting for long?"
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