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#not even just because he’s weird but because of like everything else
gurugirl · 1 day
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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jess-the-vampire · 1 day
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honestly out of all the pilot/pitch stuff that was removed/changed, i am the most sad about william's removal if anything
arguably his character was later transformed into hunter, but i can see why dana claims technically his character was removed entirely because everything we get on him showcases him to mostly be wildly different from hunter
he's younger, from the 16th century so he's apparently centuries old, the concept was he and luz seemed to be the only humans on the isles, he's also basically everyone's idea of like.....baby philip with the witch hunter aspect more prevalent.
Honestly his pitch design even looks more like baby Philip then hunter.
how he went from this design to the more prince-like design down the line is worth asking. Cause by the time we got to the animation test he was known as "Prince william" (Idk, maybe in the pitch he was gonna be secretly a prince who regains his memories or something?)
he's just a weird kid who lives nearby and screams at the clouds.
apparently he also had a memory problem that would regain over time and reveal he and obron (pitch belos) are family and i assume had some past that probably explains them both being so freaking old and how william fell asleep with memory issues.
Maybe obron was responsible for william's condition, or maybe someone else did this and it led to obron's actions in modern day? i wonder how this would of played out had it been in the final draft.
also their relation, would it have been another nephew-uncle situation? would their relation have been way different, maybe they're brothers who were witch hunters and this was transformed into the wittebane backstory instead? william's also been asleep for centuries so it's been awhile since they've seen each other so their relationship would have a different vibe to it overall.
it's quite interesting, sad we never got to see where it would go but it would be cool if maybe a future project might go through with the unused concept someday.
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yuuuhiii · 3 days
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omg hi if you’re still doing matchups i wanted to request a jjk one please! mmm readers pretty soft spoken, and very quiet. def a listener rather than a talker. a little bit dry honestly and pretty much relies on others to keep the conversation going😭 what else let me think…mm idk really likes cats? pretty girly i suppose but doesn’t like being called out on it☝️ omg super shy and hesitant in relationships but craves attention anyways. i think that’s it, thank you!!
i match you with YUUJI ITADORI ᥫ᭡
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Yuuji is infatuated.
For the umpteenth time he’s out with Nobara. And this time he’s silently thanking her for forcing him to come because he would have never seen you. You’re so gorgeous, he thinks. He’s moving before he can even think but he’s not against it.
“Hey.” He says and you tense.
He’s tall, big, and attractive. You smell a faint perfume on him, and he has big eyes that remind you of a puppy. You’re sure if he has a tail, it’d be wagging.
“Uh! This probably really weird. But you’re so beautiful I was wondering if I could get to know you.”
You’re taken aback by his words and boldness. You were going to politely decline yet those damn eyes and smile held you from doing so.
That was the first day Yuuji had talked to you and now you guys were dating.
It had taken quite sometime for Yuuji to get you comfortable and to open up around him. However he did accept that that’s also just how you were as a person.
You were a woman of few words and he had no problem with it. He’d love to ramble about anything and everything as you hummed and looked pretty.
Although when it came to you coming by a cat, he swears he’d die of cuteness overload. The way you just naturally attract them and the smile you adorn has him wanting to kiss your face off.
Cuteness aggression was definitely his thing.
Especially when you’d get shy over his compliments. The first time he kisses you and pulled away, he whispered against your lips.
“You’re so perfect.” He could feel the exact moment you turned red and he smiled big.
Every moment after that he’d call you pet names, never failing to let you know how beautiful you were inside and out. One thing Yuuji did notice about you though was how shy you were to initiate affection. He’s still not used to it, when you crave his attention and actually act on it.
Like the one time you knocked on his door, evening hours.
“Oh? Hi cutes.” He smiles and you flush. You don’t say anything but you hug him and he freezes. His arms quickly cage you in against him.
“You okay?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
You hum, “I just missed you.” He immediately smiles, kissing the crown of your head he pulls you in his room.
Or the time you were once again in his room as he played video games. The whole time he could feel your staring and he’d noticed the way you’d fidget with your hands. Eyes still on the tv, he speaks.
“Are you okay, pretty?” He sees you jump, eyes moving quickly.
You then stand up and as he’s about to tell you to kindly move but you kiss him. His controller falls to the floor, making you jump away.
“N-No!” He squeaks out, his eyes lidded and a pretty blush on his face.
“Kiss me again.” He says mindlessly and with the both of you red as a tomato, you do as he says.
You don’t have to use your words, you don’t have to lift your finger because Yuuji knows you. He knows what you like and what you hate. It’s easy for him to give you just what you want without you asking him.
In this case, cuddling. He scoop you in his arms, laying you against him as your breath would even against him.
Yuuji loves how reserved and soft you are, you ground him and keep him sane.
What would he do without you.
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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Text
WHO AM I??
Hi baby
I’m going to talk a little bit about myself
I don’t wanna reveal too much
My face and everything else will remain anonymous for safety and privacy💕
Name:
My name is Honey(yes this is my birth name lol)
You can call me by my name or honeybee
Or even honeycomb
Do NOT call me beehive 😡
Unless it’s related to Beyoncè💕
Age: 23
Topics:
I discuss the void state, Law of assumption,Reality Shifting (I haven’t talked about this yet but will if you need more info)
And All kinds of Manifestation methods
How to talk to Honey!!!
Just dm me any questions I don’t take asks anymore so if you have any questions just feel free to dm me
Ethnicity/Nationality
My mom is Afro Peruvian, Indian,and Haitian
My dad is Jamaican
Sooo
I’m black hehe🤟🏾
I don’t do these I’m super private it’s soooo weird omg
What do I like??
Music food animals
Did I say music because
MUSIC!!!!!!
My favorite artists
I love all kinds of music
Even death metal occasionally
I like Harry Styles,Kid Cudi,Lady Gaga The Beatles,Ice Spice and many moreeeee
I also love movies
Literally almost any kind
But anyways
Let’s talk about something more interesting!!
Now that you know me(kind of)
I want you to know about this technique I discovered
It’s not new at all
In fact ppl on here have already talked about it I’m just late
As usual 😔
Anywayyyyyy
There’s a technique I want you all to try
It’s called the
“Wim hof breathing”
Method
No methods are needed But if you really want one
Then here you go pookie
(Found this on a website but it won’t let me copy the link😔)
WIM HOF BREATHING METHOD
Find a comfortable position.
Breathe in deeply through the nose or mouth and through the belly to the chest. Then let the breath go unforced.
Exhale through the mouth, then immediately breathe in again.
Take 30–40 such breaths in short bursts.
Take one final, deep inhalation then let the air out and stop inhaling. Hold the breath until you feel the urge to breathe again.
Inhale very deeply to full capacity and hold for 15 seconds, then let it go. This completes the first round.
Repeat the whole process, steps #2-6, 3-4 times.
After completion take time to meditate and enjoy the state of deep relaxation
After the very last step you should be a deep trance like state you should be really relaxed
I recommend that you let your next subliminal play
Which should be
Either a theta or epilson wave track or pink noise
Make sure your desired subliminal that plays after is Not a guided meditation you wanna still be in a trance
Start affirming in that point
And don’t stop
Just feel how relaxed you are feel that powerless body but powerful mind
Your body is at ease your soul and mind collide in such ways that allows you to breathe freely without any stress no harm
In the void state
Your main goal should be getting peace
Because if you’re entering just affirm
You’ll likely put it on a pedestal you’ll get frustrated and give up
It is not a wish granter bitch
It’s you
Baby you are powerful
Baby you are pretty
Baby you can tap in the void
And make the bring the 4D to your 3D and make it your home
Don’t use the void as a wish granter
Use it for peace
Don’t treat the 3D like the enemy
Treat it like a friend
After all it exists the way it does because of your assumptions
Whether you say this is hard or this is easy
Sugar, you’re right either way
Because if you assume something then that’s how it’ll be
If you think you’re pretty you’re pretty
But if you think you’re broke
Then you’re broke
If you think you’re rich
Then you’re rich baby
You could have wings
Superpowers
Be the biggest singer or rapper in the world
Star in the next Dune Movie
Be best friends with Ariana Grande
Be a Scientist
Be smarter than Albert Einstein(I mean was he actually super intelligent if he lacked common sense)
You could be get a bigger butt!!
I mean didn’t necessarily have a pancake ass
But I definitely didn’t have a Nicki Minaj
BUT I DO NOW!!!!
And bestie you can too!
Plastic surgery who???
Do we look like a Kardashian-Jenner?? I think the f not🙄
The void is our plastic surgeon
You wanna a smaller nose?
Got it
Tig ole biddies?
Got it
Nicki Minaj butt?
Got it
Floor length hair?
Got it?
Whatever you want to change about yourself
Got it!
And for the last time babies
You ALWAYS ENTER THE VOID EVERYTIME YOU SLEEP
Mentally just be
Physically sleep
In that moment baby
Forget the 3D and its fuck ass bob
Because the 3Ds not your enemy but its your puppet
You’re a ventriloquist CONTROL THAT MF
The 4D is you
The void is you
Quit saying what you can’t do babe
You CAN BECAUSE YOU ALREADY DID AND YOU STILL DO
“HoNEy I StiLL didNT gET inTO tHe vOiD”
YES YOU DID!!!!!!
You did it
You just didn’t know
Bro the void is just recognizing you’re asleep
And getting in contact with your mind
Which is where you already go when you go to sleep
So ha
Billie
There’s your answer
When we fall asleep
That’s where we go
The mf Void State
The only thing your cute ass has to do baby
Is just be aware
When Neville Goddard says just “BE”
Bitch just BE
That’s it
Be aware
Like that SpongeBob episode
“Be the crane”
Be the Void
It’s just you love
So why you stressing
Why complicate something YOU created?!
Baby girl make it make sense
Own your power bitch
I love you My darlings
Month is almost over
Bring me my success stories
Or I’ll be your sleep paralysis demon 😈
(Just kidding)
Or am I;)
NOW BITCH LOOK!!!!
YAYYYY
Imma keep pressuring you to listen to this(NOTE YOU DO NOT NEED SUBLIMINALS)
But I like this one🫠
Wrong emoji
I can’t find that cute one at the moment I’m rushing cuz I wanna eat my burger!
SLADE:
https://youtu.be/oKU8YIicYQg?feature=shared
THIS
because it’s soooo peaceful
Slade is the best
BYE BITCH GO GET THAT DREAM LIFE NOW!!!
I love you ⭐️💕
youtube
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karokawwo · 1 day
Text
Fondness
Ocudeus x gn!reader
So I went ahead and wrote my own little ocudeus one-shot... It's not much but it's honest work. here you get to be weirded out by the cryptic affection of an eldritch horror.
Ocudeus loves you, but not as a human would.
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The Seaspring has been especially uncomfortable lately.
You even hesitated to pass by today, but Ais has been acting so strange you couldn’t help checking in on him. These days he seems distant—the comfortable silence the two of you once shared in the temple now feels awkward, almost painfully so.
Did you upset him? Surely, he’d tell you if that was the case, he’s never been afraid to call you out. Something must be troubling him, maybe one of his brawls went south or Princess hasn’t been eating or one of his teacups broke…
Trying to guess what’s going on in Ais’ head is bound to lead nowhere; if you want to help him is best to ask upfront. Even if he might avoid the question, you won’t be able to say you didn’t try.
And so, you timidly enter the Seaspring.
The motion of the rippling, red water catches your eye, it seems… Lively? As lively as a stagnant lake can look, anyways.
You quickly scan the wooden floors which turn out to be desolate, then shift to the rafters—there he is, staring. Once your eyes find his, a smirk stretches across his face. He might feel down, but nothing gives him greater joy than watching you stumble after him it seems.
You gather your courage, “Ais! I need to ask you something.”
“What’s new,” you roll your eyes at him. Shortly, he drops from the rafters and regards you with a bored expression; he probably thinks you’ll ask about the Seaspring as you’ve done many times already.
“Uh, well…” now that you’re face-to-face the words barely reach you, but you manage to choke out the question, “…Are you good?” his eyebrows raise lightly and you look away, “I mean, it��s just… I’ve noticed you’ve been a little out of it lately, is everything fine?”
When you look back up at him, his brows are furrowed in confusion. Did you guess wrong...?
Suddenly his expression smooths into a grin, “Just a bit tired. No need to worry, sparrow,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, “How nice of you to check in after causing so much trouble.”
Usually, you’d knock his hand away or bite back at the sarcastic comment, but something tells you he’s not being genuine. Thinking about what to say, you let his warm hand tangle in your hair until he retracts it.
“…Are you sure?”
“That you cause trouble? Yeah.”
“Not that, you idiot.”
His smirk falls completely, the unamused look returning to his face, “If it bothers you so much, you could just leave and let me sleep” his disinterest is clear once he starts looking around for something else to do.
Of course, this wasn’t the first time Ais told you to leave, your first encounter aside, he’d joke about it often, however this didn’t seem like one of those times.
You stand there, upset with his lack of cooperation—honestly what were you expecting from Ais? For him to be vulnerable just because you asked? Even when you tackle the issue upfront, it’s bound to go nowhere.
Frustrated, you turn to leave, but as you begin walking a hand grasps your shoulder tightly.
“Didn’t you want me to—!?”
As you turn, your anger stops short.
Clearly, this isn’t Ais.
It’s the same face, but his eyes, his expression—
Are so unfamiliar.
It steps closer, eyes stabbing into your own. It’s so close you can feel the coldness of its body.
It mutters something in a language you can’t understand—guttural and rough. Then it grabs the top of your head; you shut your eyes, expecting the worst—
…Until it starts rubbing your head? It pulls your hair as its hand stiffly moves, nothing like the soft ruffling Ais was doing earlier. You open one eye—it’s staring eerily.
The stranger startles you, shoving its face into yours. Then it drags the hand on your shoulder to grip the side of your head instead, you feel the same awkward motion from its other hand.
…What is it doing? What does it even want?
As its grip loosens, you finally feel the urge to fight, to run, to get away from this thing.
You push it away with little resistance and turn on your heel straight to the Seaspring’s entrance—
You enter the wasteland, accompanied by the sound of your own feet splashing against the bog and the puddles.
There’s no way you can fight that thing, not if it’s Ais. Your best bet is to get back to the city and… Hide? Well, what else will you do if Ais pops up in the Wick again!?
Shortly, you hear someone—something else running after you.
It’s not Ais, whatever’s following you has at least four feet, like a dog—could it be—
You hit the ground, hard.
When you look over your shoulder, you see a somewhat familiar Soulless—a crown of tendrils at its head, you can make out a few eyes at its sides. It looks at you blankly, no recognition in its eyes.
“Prin…”
A pair of footsteps slowly approach. You turn your eyes to the source of the sound, dragging your gaze from the spiked boots, to the disheveled haori, then those piercing, painfully alien eyes. They look straight at your own, through them.
It reaches you, kneels, and keeps on staring—scrutinizing you, admiring you. It whispers something else in that thick language; you don’t know whether to feel glad or annoyed you can’t understand it.
Confused, angry, and scared, you finally mutter something, “What… Are you doing…?” the stranger tilts its head—it’d almost be cute if it was Ais. With the same dull expression, it reaches again for the top of your sweaty, muddied head, and rubs it.
It’s infuriating how gently it pets you this time, you almost feel compelled to close your eyes in hopes to escape that agonizing gaze.
It’s hand slowly disentangles from your hair and snakes to your neck, then your shoulder, and stops… At your bandaged arm.
Panicked, you turn to it—its eyes are boring into your hands rather than your face.
“Don’t!”
Yet it doesn’t move. You look back at your arm, and just as the stranger begins scratching at your bandages…
“Didn’t run fast enough.” a familiar voice. You feel the weight lift off you, whining; Princess tries to lick your face before Ais lifts you up. He seems a lot less merry than his pet—his expression grim, his gaze lost somewhere over your shoulder, “You should leave.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice; you nod briefly and pass him.
From a short distance you hear him, “Stay, girl.” and a little whine afterwards. You peek behind your shoulder.
He pets Princess adoringly.
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apas-75 · 1 day
Text
So last night I finished reading Rise of the Red Blade for TotE Vibes Research purposes and the two Inquisitor characters in it really illustrate exactly why I think Barriss is going to survive and escape them.
Because the thing is that there are two kinds of Inquisitors! The ones who volunteered, and the ones who...didn’t. Iskat (RotRB’s focus character) perfectly exemplifies the first type: she had some traumatizing experiences at a young age, fell through a number of institutional cracks in the Order, had a really terrible master (meet me in the pit, Sember Vey), everyone was too busy to give her the follow-up they would under normal circumstances, Palpatine had an agent actively gathering information about her and pushing her to become Worse—she was a pre-selected candidate who was offered the choice to come quietly when Order 66 hit, and she took it. By that point all of her issues and doubts had been exacerbated to the point where it wasn’t hard for her to make herself hate the Jedi, and then she rationalized her way through any indication that her freedom was a lie and doubled her way down right into hell.
By contrast: Tualon, Iskat’s crechemate situationship guy. He had some issues but was not someone on Palpatine’s radar; Iskat left him to die in Order 66 and he survived getting shot by darksiding out about her betrayal. Because of that he was taken alive and they did some shit to him. When Iskat runs into him at the Inquisitor HQ after he’s freshly-inducted he can barely remember why he hates her, or anything else from before he was taken. He woke up in the room where you fight Trilla and they fully shattered him and glued a semblance of a person back together out of the wreckage, just COMPLETELY Winter Soldiered the guy, and the only way he had to cope with it is to lean into a weird codependent situationship with Iskat.
And that distinction’s always been there with the Inquisitors; you have the true believers who ended up hating the Jedi or wanted to go on a power trip (or had the kind of revenge plan only a 12 year old could come up with and then stick to for a decade, in one case) and didn’t need any additional coercion to volunteer, and you have the ones that they broke. In the former group you’ve got the Grand Inquisitor, Reva/Third, Lyn/Fourth*, Fifth, and Iskat/Thirteenth. For the most part they’re certified freaks, but they came by it naturally. (Reva’s a different flavor.) In the latter, you’ve got Trilla/Second, Seventh, Masana/Ninth, Tualon, and probably most of the others. They all got disassembled and reassembled without much care given to the process and are all Coping with it badly in different ways, whether by deciding it’s Empowering, Actually (Trilla & Seventh) or by becoming completely jaded about everything (Masana & Tualon).
(*We obviously don’t know a lot about Fourth yet, but the fact that she shows up to recruit Barriss while rocking yellow dark side eyes before ROTS is even over tells me she’s definitely a volunteer.)
All this is to say: The Grand Inquisitor is making a colossal mistake with Barriss from the drop, and it’s why I think she’s going to win their battle of wits and escape. Because he is treating her like she is an Iskat and she could not be any farther from it.
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He sends Lyn to get her to come quietly! They actively withhold information from her about what happened to the Jedi and what her expected role in it is! That’s not how they recruit the ones they think will be a problem; if that were the case she would have been stunned out of hand and woken up on a rack.
Instead, he’s giving her special attention,, he’s training her—he doesn’t think they need to break her. She’s just got a few...pesky hang-ups from her time as a Jedi that need ironing out**. He’s projecting on her; he doesn’t just want an empty shell holding a lightsaber—he wants Barriss Offee, loyally kneeling at his side, fully believing in their mission. She’s his favorite.
(**That “mercy only breeds defeat” line isn’t just a generic darksidism; I’m pretty sure he’s directly critiquing how Barriss got caught because she showed mercy to Asajj Ventress.)
And surely that's something he can turn her into, right? Because she hates the Jedi, right? She attacked them, she outsmarted them, obviously she’d be down for wanting to wipe them out! He was there when she confessed and, like pretty much everyone else in the room save for Ahsoka, he didn’t hear a single word that she said—just what he wanted her to be saying. He’s got a deeply incorrect idea of her, and that idea is “she’s just like me for real.”
And he’s wrong, because the Inquisitorius is everything she feared the Jedi Order was becoming—literally, an army fighting for the dark side—and the Empire is everything she knew the Republic was becoming. She might be prone to despairing, it might in some hypothetical be possible to get her into the same resigned despair trap as Anakin, but she would never actually want to serve the Empire, and they don't think they'll have to try hard to convince her to.
She loves the Jedi, she loved being a Jedi, she wanted to save them. She wants to be one again more than anything even though right now she thinks she doesn’t deserve it, thinks that she’s already too broken to reclaim what she was. But I think being surrounded by actual fallen Jedi and being told over and over again that she’s like them is, in the end, going to be what reminds her that she never stopped being a Jedi in the first place.
And as long as she can make sure her captors don't realize that's true until it's too late, she'll be home free.
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Text
When Life Gives You Lemons
Rise Donatello x Reader imagine
Info + Warnings: Reader's at the Lair to help Mikey in the kitchen. Mikey's caught up in something else. Donatello gives Reader a way to pass the time. No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader. Vague not-friends to might-be-friends with feelings. Set a few years post movie.
Commentary: He's much harder to write for than a certain blue menace. IDK if this even sounds like him.
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It's easy to think Donatello doesn't care.
Well... that's not true. You've seen him unveil his latest and greatest inventions- he cares so much it's impressive.
But it is easy to think he's extremely (impressively) neutral on you.
It's a kind of intense neutral that you haven't seen anywhere else.
He's polite. Or his version of polite, anyway. It's not like he avoids you, he just is neutral in a way that somehow pulls on your attention.
You can't explain how or why.
You're just aware of it the same way you're aware of his family's fondness for you. His near-apathy has the same volume as Leo's jokes and Raph's warm support and Mikey's excited integration of you into their schedules.
You call it Hamato Intensity, in the privacy of your own mind, the way they all are. It's shapeless and beyond definition, and you really shouldn't think too hard on it because it simply is the way that gravity just is, but you almost can't help yourself.
They just have a presence.
Maybe it has something to do with that Ninpō thing Mikey and April tried to explain to you. It's like magic, but it's not magic, but it's kinda magic? But then Donnie had cut in to explain that it was absolutely not magic and he had a whole PowerPoint and everything got very derailed very very quickly.
You were more confused at the end than you were when the conversation had started.
So you try not to think about it too much. You get that they're glowy and dangerous, and it has something to do with ancestral connections, and you think April's haunted, and that's just going to have to be enough.
It's a lot like how you don't quite get Donnie.
You're pretty sure he doesn't dislike you. Over the few months you've known the family, you've seen him dislike several people, and it is always extremely clear. It's sharp and hazardous and can be a little (lot) intimidating- and he's never been like that with you. He's just dry. A little reserved.
The weird part is that it isn't really... awkward?
Like, it should be. It so should be. Right now, with you sitting at their kitchen table waiting for Mikey to get home so you can help him with his latest culinary adventure (per his request) and Donnie silently brewing coffee and typing away at his gauntlet, it should be awkward.
It isn't.
It's comfortable, in a strange way.
The realization is a surprise- one only trumped by the surprise of him speaking.
He says your name in way of greeting, and your head whips around like he'd screamed.
"Yeah?" You say, confused.
You think it might be the first time he's said it to you.
He stares at you for a beat like he's studying you, just long enough for you to start to feel out of place. "Still waiting for Michael, I presume?"
"Yeah," You repeat, no less confused. More confused, you think. "He's grabbing ingredients. Apparently Leo ate the end of something and Mike's making him portal them around to replace it," You explain (over explain? You can't tell) with a fond amusement. "Said they couldn't find it at the first place they tried, so they're making extra stops."
Something dings on his wrist, and he drops his eyes to type something into his gauntlet again. "Excellent," He says neutrally, still typing. "That leaves you free to assist me."
You blink at him, confusion growing. Again.
He seems to notice, his hand stilling on his keyboard for an almost imperceptible moment. "If... you are not otherwise occupied, obviously."
"Um, no. Nah, I'm free," You respond, finding your footing again and deciding that much stranger things have happened, really. "What's up?"
"I require an extra set of hands in the lab, to hold a circuit board in place while neither crushing nor breaking it, which- despite his best efforts and gentle demeanor- makes Raphael a less-than-ideal candidate," He explains, his typing hand coming up to twirl once in midair in a very Donnie motion of simultaneous acknowledgment and dismissal.
It occurs to you that this is the same lab that may-or-may-not have some sort of nuke tucked away in it, depending on who you listen to.
The thought is brushed away by the realization that your curiosity outweighs your caution (again).
You slip out of your chair, nodding at him. "Sounds... uncharacteristically simple," You say, testing the waters with a gentle joke at his expense.
It seems to pay off as he nods. "I assure you, the end goal is extremely characteristic," He says, and it takes you a second to realize he's- it's not joking, but it has a self-aware, playful edge to it. It's subtle, but it's there, and it catches you off-guard as two robotic arms reach out and pour a mug of coffee without him looking.
"Then lead the way."
He turns without a word, retracting one metal arm as the other brings the mug to his hands before disappearing into his shell.
You follow him to his lab, hesitating just outside as he slips right back into his element.
You've been in the lab before, but it's rare, and usually with the company of his entire family. Here, you have no cues to follow.
He glances back at you and raises a brow.
"Do I... need to take off my shoes or anything?" You ask over the synth and bass filling the room, only half joking. It feels like walking into an operating room, like you need to sterilize your entire being before you breathe on any of the impressive technology.
"No," He says simply, turning back to his workbench, "The floor is cleaned bi-daily by SHELLDON. Bi-daily, in this case, being twice-per-day- not every other."
You nod at his back. Of course it is.
You walk towards him, not quite able to resist the urge to look around. You settle for keeping it subtle.
"Here," He says, pulling your attention from an organized mess of cables and metal hanging on the wall like technologically-advanced macrame. "Hold this over here, at roughly a 59.6 degree angle."
Taking the circuit board- a foot square and heavier than you expect- you nod again, trying not to laugh as you step to his side and lift it up to rest against yet another unintelligible pile of technology. "Right. 59.6 degrees."
"Roughly," He amends, the start of a smile visible in your peripheral. He reaches out- into your space- and nudges the board into a sharper tilt, presumably finding that approximate angle for you as his metal arms grab things from the tool chest behind him.
"Like this?" You ask, trying to hold still as he pulls away.
Oddly, you almost miss his space in your own.
"Roughly," He repeats dryly.
That's alright. You aren't striving for perfection.
Roughly is fine.
You feel compelled to strive for perfection.
You swallow the urge.
He's back, hands full of drill and screws and metal hands holding more metal pieces that you can't quite see around his battle shell as he crouches slightly to look at the underside of the board in your hands.
"Slide it to the left- your left, not mine."
You nudge it gently.
"More."
You nudge it again.
"More- too much, back the other way."
You cock a brow at him- or more accurately, at his red-and-blue goggles, which show you your own reflection. You can't see his eyes, but he must see you, because he mimics your expression.
You nudge it back the other way.
"Adequate," He says in something close to approval.
It's nicer to hear than it probably should be.
"This will be an unpleasant sound. It will jostle the board. If it slides out of alignment, we'll have to reset you."
"Alright."
He's correct- as per usual. It's a very unpleasant sound, metal on metal combined with the whir of the drill, followed by clanging as his battle arms hand him extra pieces and parts.
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He ends up entirely beneath the metal monstrosity, supported by the two metal arms as he leans back to look up at the machine's underbelly.
You end up in a long-abandoned rolling chair. You tell yourself it's just because Mikey isn't home yet.
Eventually, Donatello calls your name.
"Yeah?"
"Four-point-five millimeter hex key."
You glance over at the little work table he'd rolled over earlier, and spot a tray of neatly organized hex keys. A closer look reveals perfectly placed labels.
One reads 4.5, so you slip it out of its slot and roll forwards to pass it to him.
"Thank you."
You hum a little acknowledgment, and kick your chair back slightly.
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"-and for some insane reason, he decided to catapult himself-" You wave an arm out in emphasis, mid-story as Donnie meticulously wires together the plates you had installed, and a third metal arm darts out to gently catch your wrist.
You stop speaking, and you stare at each other.
"Hotplate," He says after a beat.
You glance over your shoulder, and your hand is being held just shy of a metal platform on the desk behind you. There's a little red light on the front, and a bright purple sign plastered neatly below it, warning Hot. Do Not Touch. Do Not Use As Microwave.
"Thanks," You says softly. You can feel heat wafting off it now, enough to give you the impression that had he not interceded, you'd be nursing a nasty burn.
He hums and retracts the hand, tucking it neatly into his battleshell. "You were reminding me of Nardo's foolhardy ways?" He prompts, attention already returning to the project in front of him.
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Eventually, you hear Mikey holler from outside the lab, calling you.
"I guess that's my cue," You say.
Donatello does not look up. "Agreed. I appreciate your assistance."
"Any time," You say casually.
As you turn to leave, you're absolutely dumbfounded to realize you actually mean it.
You've enjoyed your stint as his lab assistant.
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"How was the lab?" Mikey asks, a little too playful for your tastes.
"Hazardous," You quip dryly, replaying the hotplate incident. "No wonder he's so protective of it."
You miss Mikey's response, mentally counting metal hands.
Donatello's battleshell has more than two.
You're pretty sure you've seen him with five before.
...So why did he need help?
"Hello?" Mikey asks gently, an innocent- too innocent- smile on his face.
"Sorry, flashbacks to my near-death experience." It's not quite a lie.
He doesn't quite buy it.
"I said if he asks you to test fit a helmet, say no," Mikey repeats.
You nod slowly. "Speaking from experience?"
"Don't worry about it," He chirps, slipping an apron over his head. "Speaking of experiences, are you ready for Angelo's All-You-Can-Beat Eggstravaganza?"
"Absolutely," You grin, happy for the change of subject.
And excited for lemon bars.
Win-win.
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"You're telling me-"
"Nardo, don't-"
"I teleported all over New York and the Hidden City-"
"You are in the way-"
"So that you could get your wrenches passed to you?" Leo exclaims, the picture of incredulity as he stands between Donnie and the equipment you'd helped with. "That was your grand plan?"
"I had no grand plan," Donnie responds, stubbornly sidestepping his twin. "Michelangelo had a grand plan. I was a victim, dear brother, same as you."
"Oh, of course, of course," He says, hands coming up in dramatic surrender. "Because spending time with someone you have the hots for-"
Donnie taps at his gauntlet, turning his music up over his brother while sliding back beneath his newest baby.
"-Is exactly the same as stopping in thirteen stores-" Leo continues louder, undeterred- "for a niche lemon species you eventually start to think Mikey made up!"
"And did he?"
"He might as well have, for how deep into Witch Town we ended up!"
Donatello rolls his eyes sharply, adjusting bolts above himself.
They don't need adjusting.
"If you don't come out to try their lemon bars- and sing their fucking praises- I will come in here and haul you out myself," Leonardo proclaims, ducking into Donnie's space. Persistent, unyielding, obstinate. "And I will tell everyone- everyone, you heard me- about last month and the rollerskates-"
"You are a monster."
"And I will do so in detail," Leo finishes, a smug grin on his face.
Donnie glares at him.
"We're not kids anymore, hermano," He says matter-of-factly. "You've taken on supervillains, aliens, ancient mystic entities, and all of NASA's cybersecurity-"
"Allegedly."
"-You can handle a direct conversation without hiding behind your tech."
Donatello does not respond.
Leo pats the metal chassis they're hunched beneath in lieu of touching Donatello himself and takes his leave.
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The kitchen is loud when you and Mikey present a tray of perfectly sliced, perfectly proportioned lemon bars, each presented in an adorable white paper liner and covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar.
It's loud and happy and sounds like love, and you find yourself marveling at that Hamato Intensity again as Raph and Casey bicker about the wrestling match they both watched the night before and Casey Jr excitedly asks Mikey all about the bars and April and Leo and Splinter sneak in closer to the tray, only freezing when Mikey fixes them with a dangerous glare over Junior's shoulder.
It's a lot. They're a lot.
It smells like citrus and sugar and coffee.
The coffee reminds you of the smell of steel, which reminds you of the clanging of metal, which reminds you of whirring drills and gentle nudges and self-assured sass from beneath a machine you still don't understand.
And then you're jolted from the surprisingly warm memory by Mikey sliding a lemon bar just under your nose, happily saying something about chef privileges, and the bars taste every bit as good as they smell and he's grinning broadly and your heart feels warm all over again at the happy sounds from the group you love so much.
Metal claws dip into your vision, dangling your keys in front of your face like a worm in front of a fish. "Missing something?" Donatello asks dryly, quietly, from behind you.
"Where were these?" You ask, cupping your hands beneath them and catching as the metal claw releases.
"Workbench," He says simply, his claw- and another- darting forwards and grabbing two bars by their liners. He drops one in your hands and takes the other, tucking his metal extensions away. "How did these turn out?"
"Why don't you try it and find out?"
"I like to know what I'm getting into."
"I'm biased," You shoot back, your voices similarly amused. "As a man of science, you recognize the issue here, no?"
"Touché." He takes a bite, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.
"...So?"
"It appears you are more-than-adequate in the kitchen as well," He says, and it feels like a compliment.
It feels like a big one.
You nod, playfully smug. "I'm happy to hear it."
You are.
The realization makes you feel a little brave. "If you find yourself needing an assistant again..."
"I'd have to be able to steal you away from Mikey."
"I think he can share."
"In that case," Donnie says, amusement in his voice as he speaks beneath the noise of his family, just to you, "I will keep you in mind."
It doesn't sound half bad, really.
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paimonial-rage · 2 days
Text
procedural - alhaitham
[random writing event] | requested by @crane1000
Being known as one of those more free-spirited sort, you were never one for schedules. It wasn’t that you had anything against them. You just found it difficult to devote yourself to doing things at a set time on a set day was rather constricting. So when you were hired to work as the Akademiya’s scribe’s assistant, you were in for a whirlwind of change. Alhaitham was scheduled. Procedural, even. And he made sure you were too.
With Alhaitham, work started at 9am sharp. After half an hour of reviewing his intray, he would start on drafting proposals, copying documents, and creating lists. It was your job to maintain and organize the many papers that passed through his hands. Lunch was taken at noon on the dot. After, you would be out and about passing correspondence, picking up new books from the House of Daena, and communicating with the other departments. Once 5pm hit, you were finally released.
Through everything, Alhaitham prized efficiency and efficacy above all else. And though it took time to get used to his spartan ways, you could see the value in following his work style. Everything made sense. That is, mostly everything. When you sat down and really thought about everything, though, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something… odd about the way he did a few things.
Ever since you started, Alhaitham began eating out for lunch almost everyday, always inviting you along. Which was weird because you heard he usually brought lunch made by his roommate. You didn’t think it was too strange at first. You were friends with Alhaitham during your student years, after all. He probably wanted to catch up. But to continue on for a few months…?
It didn’t help that you did much of the talking at lunch. Sure, you were extremely talkative, but you thought he’d surely get tired of listening to you ramble on by now. But no, no matter how much you babbled about, he’d always respond with some intelligent response showing he was listening to you all along. That wasn’t even considering the way he opted to sit next to instead of across from you. Were you that interesting to listen to?
Then there was the way he’d actually listen to and take the random advice you’d give. The new fountain pens upon his desk were suggested by you, as were the coffee beans he now used at home. He let you drag him to new restaurants at lunch and borrowed the books you raved about in the House of Daena. You never heard of him doing this for anyone else.
And lastly…
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yep! Just finished packing up,” you replied, standing up from your desk. “Let’s go.”
As that classes were finally finished for the day, the Akademiya was abuzz with students. In the back of your mind, you had no doubt that the streets of Sumeru City would only be busier seeing that most people were finally leaving work.
“You don’t need to walk me home,” you began with an apologetic laugh. “It’s probably going to take a while.”
“It’s fine,” he replied. “Besides, weren’t you the one that insisted on finishing your story earlier?”
“Oh, you’re right!” You exclaimed. “So what happened next was…”
As you chatted about the happenings and various gossip that managed to find their way into your nosy ears, at some point your hand found its way into his. It often happened seeing that the busy roads often pushed and shoved you about. And as kind as he was to help you, you couldn’t help but feel that it was, like all the other things, unnecessary.
“Why are you so nice to me?” You found yourself asking when you finally reached your home.
Though his eyes widened for a moment, they soon narrowed as he crossed his arms as if observing you.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
You paused in thought.
“Because you see me as a friend?” You asked curiously.
You were met with a long exasperated sigh.
“Sure, let’s say that,” he finally said as he turned to leave. “Rest well.”
As you waved him goodbye, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh to yourself. Oh well. You’ll figure out his secrets some other time.
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merakiui · 3 hours
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erotomanic stalker azul who meets you on the worst day of his life.
he thinks it's his worst day because everything's wrong. he overslept, his favorite collared shirt had a stain on it, his shoes looked scuffed, his hair was doing something weird despite his best efforts to style it properly, responsibilities are piling up, groceries are needed, empty house, empty heart, he's swamped with work....... it's a relief when he, who looks so drained and dead, is shaken from the stupor of a bad day when you offer him an unopened bottle of water in the train.
you're pressed so close together, packed in like canned fish. normally he avoids public transport, but for some reason he's taking it today. once again, he thinks it's because this bad day has thrown him off his usual course. he stares at you, suspicious, but you press it into his hand.
"you look a little rough. make sure to drink enough water, or else you could faint or get sick." you offer him a sincere smile, so gentle and sweet, and suddenly this "worst day ever" isn't so bad.
since that night in the train, he's become so devoted to you. it was fairly easy to search you after he learned of your name. you work a normal job and lead a normal life. you have interests and hobbies. you make posts on social media like everyone else. you have friends and family. you're just...you. everything about you is perfect in his eyes. azul has turned that night over and over in his head dozens of times. why else would you give him water and be so helpful, so worried for his sake, if you didn't like him? surely that's what this is, right? you're not like the rest of the population with their flimsy hook-ups and heartless one-night stands. you want a deeper connection. isn't that why you talked to him on the train that night, asking if he was okay, if he wanted you to help him home if he was too tired to stand? what was that if not a sly means of wanting to get to know him better?
besides, if you didn't like him, why do you keep running into him? why do you smile so brightly? why would you remember his face if you weren't in love with him? sure, that ring on your finger is proof you're married, but azul's never seen your spouse before. you're probably just wearing that to ward everyone else off. he knows the truth. he knows you just wear it as a fashion statement. there's no one attached to that ring. why would there be if you're in love with him? he knows love is difficult. you're shy. he understands.
in azul's world, every day is a fairy tale. he's in the clouds, his heart wrapped in whimsy. everything tastes sweeter when you're in love. the sky is bright, the flowers are fragrant, the sun shines... he never believed in soulmates until he found you, but now he sees what he was missing all this time. what a lonely life he lived before you! how was he even alive? it's okay, though. now there will be sunny days forever.
in azul's world, there's no such thing as murder or death. he's made a mess of that stranger you called your spouse, bashed their head in so many times bone fractured, brain matter spattered, and blood speckled the walls and ceiling. it's on him, on his clothes and in his hair. you look at him with wild, wide eyes. and he, gripping the bloodied crowbar in a white-knuckled fist, smiles at you.
in azul's world, it's just narrowed down to a single room for two. for you and him.
you love him.
you do. he's sure of this.
in azul's world, you run because you want him to chase. you want him to wrap you up in his arms and hold you tightly.
so chase he shall.
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enwonz · 2 days
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safe and sound | n.rk
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in which a stranger tells you the things you want to hear most.
pairing — academic overachiever reader x stranger ni-ki, hurt/comfort
w/c — 1.4k
tw — reader’s kinda depressed and has terrible self-esteem, mention of throwing self out a window
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the ink burns red, red, red.
you’re fighting it, fighting yourself. eyes stinging as everyone around you mills about asking for scores. tests like these are everything, to overachieving students like the ones in your class.
except you, that is.
your friends come over, but their hands on your shoulders are icy even though it’s the middle of april. “how’d you do? it wasn’t as bad as i thought, but you never know with those teachers.”
“you first.” stalling for time, you force your lips into what has to be the most strained smile ever. miracle they don’t see through it. you pray they never will.
your friends rattle off a few scores. not stellar, but good enough. not a disaster, like you-
no, no. you can’t do this here. not now.
subtly you turn your paper over so they can’t see the score, grinning again. “that’s pretty good.” do they get the hint? maybe not, but eventually they move on to find someone else to bother. you thank god for that little mercy they’re giving you, at the very least.
unfair. unfair, unfair, unfair-
the bell rings, and the others start picking up their bags to leave. and if your friends try to drag you to the mall, you shrug and whip out some random worksheet that isn’t even due in the next week. or maybe you don’t. it’s hard to remember when you’re using up any energy you have left trying not to throw yourself out the window.
pretty soon it’s just a few girls left, but it’s not for another twenty minutes that they all leave. and you just sit there, letting the crimson burn into your fingers, your colourless cheeks, your chapped lips. red is shame. red is failure. and you let it stew in your stomach and pray it gets digested before any custodian comes to check on you at the end of the school day when he comes to lock up. god forbid anyone see you like this, the resentment roiling and turning in your gut.
the silence is deafening. blood roars in your ears, even as the school bell chimes and you hear the last of the footballers outside cheer. how the hell is anyone happy at all, and you’re just sitting there withering away in your own self-made prison? you can’t even cry, god knows you don’t even deserve it, because this really is your fault. your fault for being too hesitant, too panicked, while everyone else goes on with you still hanging in the balance grasping for just one chance.
maybe now you’ll never prove yourself. maybe this is it, the final nail in the coffin that destroys everything you’ve ever worked for. three failing grades in the same day. screwed up all your interviews this week. it’s as though you’re cursed to defile everything you touch — damned if you hope, damned if you don’t.
the classroom door must have clicked open, because before you can scramble to your feet to leave, there’s a boy standing in front of your desk. he’s got this weird look in his eyes, all calculating and scrutinising. it’s as though his line of sight is a laser that pierces open everything you try to stuff under your skin. twirling between his fingers is a little key, presumably for the classroom doors. “didn’t expect anyone to be here at this hour.”
you’ve seen him around before. he’s in the class next to you - what was he, their class rep? either way, you can’t quite place his name, but his presence alone is enough to get you on your feet. “s-sorry, i’ll get going now.”
but as you haphazardly shove your things into your backpack, the test paper flutters to the ground in slow motion, landing right as his feet. oh no no no don’t pick it up don’t-
but of course it finds its way into his hands, and you can tell he’s trying not to peek but he sees anyway. that awful, awful 12/25 on your paper. and you avert your gaze as you take it from his grasp, because how could you possibly expect anything but pity from a complete stranger?
and gosh, do you detest pity.
“wait.” before you can run off, his hand wraps around your shoulder, the unexpected warmth stopping you in your tracks. he’s studying you again, trying to read what you imagine must be an impossibly despondent look on your face. it would be rude to shrug him off, and you almost do, until he gestures out the window. “it’s…raining,” he gulps out. and what do you know, it is. just your luck.
you shiver, tightening your grip on the straps of your backpack. “i’ll be fine.”
“at least take my umbrella. i’ll walk you to the gate.”
“…okay.”
so you walk in silence down three floors, each step sending tingles shooting up your previously-numb legs. maybe the boy can tell, because he swaps sides with you so you can grab onto the railing. maybe you wanted the company a little more than you’d like to admit.
as you finally reach where the shelter ends, you look away. “keep your umbrella, i’ll be alright.”
but there’s a strange grimace on his face as he pushes the umbrella into your unclenched hands. “no, you’re not. at least, you won’t be. not unless you keep yourself safe and dry. wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
you can’t help it. the words slip out before you even realise they’re on your tongue. “why do you even care?” oh shit, that came out ruder than you’d intended, and you want to slap your hand over your mouth and apologise a hundred times over, but it’s too late for that now.
the boy pauses, his silence unreadable as he eyes you once again. it’s starting to be a little more than unnerving, the way he sees through barriers you didn’t even know you had up. "because i don’t think you deserve to sit in an empty classroom alone trying not to cry…? you looked awful.”
“...thanks.”
he slaps his palm over his head. “no, not like that. i meant that you looked like your world had come crashing down. it…it hasn’t, okay? you’ll be alright. one step after another, and you’ll get wherever you wanna go. you’re trying as hard as you can and you should be proud of yourself for that.”
how can a complete stranger know exactly what you’ve always wanted to hear? your chest aches with the affirmation of a nameless boy, who’s smiling at you with a softness that makes you want to throw your arms around him and sob, decorum be damned. he’s so good. too good.
at last, you take hold of the umbrella, an inexplicable warmth blossoming in your chest and throat. you can feel the flood of tears you’ve been holding back the whole afternoon threatening to surface, but this time it’s triggered by the gentleness with which he opens the umbrella with a soft click, grinning at you as he gives your shoulder a light squeeze. “go on. don’t worry about returning the umbrella, okay?”
“i’ll see you around, y/n.”
and with that, he sprints off into the pouring rain, the file he’s holding over his head almost comical. the giggle that escapes you startles you out of your stupor, and it’s only then that you realise you’ve been staring, watching him go.
but he’ll be back. maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, but you’ll see him again. and you’ll wait.
you’re so lost in thought that you don’t even think to question why nameless boy knows your name.
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with a crash, nishimura riki bursts through the front door, hair dripping water all the way along the corridor.
“riki! you’re making the whole place wet! where’s your umbrella?”
he sighs, shaking off his waterlogged shoes. despite his sister’s constant nagging and the rainwater soaking through his clothes, there’s a giddy smile on his face. “lent it to a friend.”
“...it was a girl, wasn’t it?”
at this point, he doesn’t even care anymore, flopping to the ground as his wet clothes slap against the wooden floors. “you don’t understand, nee-san. she’s the girl. i finally, finally got to talk to her. I’m-”
“GET OFF THE FLOOR ALREADY BISCO’S LICKING UP THE RAINWATER!”
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a/n — hi pookies it’s been a while…i’m not built to be an academic weapon lololol. my final exam of the term’s next thursday, so i’ll probably be able to churn out more stuff after that. immediately after i type this im gg to pomodoro my way thru life again send help-
ALSO NO THIS IS NOT A CRY FOR HELP okay goodbye lovelies (@stariikis consider this a thank you for the jw fic)
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c0mbatchameleon · 2 days
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hi anna my love would you mind telling us what the possession au is about 🥺🤲🏼💗
LUNEEE ABSOLUTELY ABSOFRUITLY I CAN.
Ok so the tldr here is James is a demon that possesses reg. This all came from a drunk 3am note in my phone about the “intimacy of literally inhabiting the same body, to become a singular noun; my thoughts are yours now, you don’t even know where you end and I begin, your soul would feel so empty without me here to fill in all the gaps” etc etc. Right ok. Long ramblings below, be warned.
So picture regulus, our resident high-strung control freak who has lived as a puppet on a string at the whims of his family ever since he was a teenager and they began staging him to join / eventually take over their major capitalist conglomerate empire or whatever. Iffy on the details still but there’s a lot of politics involved. Think like the richest of the rich in the world and they want to keep their family on the top—regulus is their vessel to do so.
And the thing is, he goes above and beyond. He gave up on trying to escape the life he’s been (to him) imprisoned in a long time ago, and his (perceived) lack of control and agency has only driven him to climb higher, hungry for even more disgusting amounts of wealth and power, fuck everyone else, he wants to be at the fucking top, and maybe then he’ll be free. He’s terrible and he’s miserable and he’s everything they wanted him to be, he feels like a slave to time and to the life that was carved out for him, and it manifests in him exerting extreme amounts of control over the one thing he can have some semblance of control over, which is his own body.
(slight tw for disordered / obsessive eating / body habits?)
Picture him scheduling his days down to the minute. He wakes up at 5:30am everyday after getting the exact amount of sleep to complete five rem cycles, he has a strict workout regimen every day perfectly planned out for the week, meals all the same mapped out down to the calorie. You’d think he’s in the army. His skincare routine puts patrick bateman to shame. He jerks off once a week cuz he thinks it has health benefits or keeps him sharp or something (if you’ve watched The End of the Fucking World I’m pretty sure this is where my brain subconsciously picked this from) and it’s mechanical and he’s dead in the eyes and he knows it will take him exactly 5 minutes and 8 seconds to come.
And then. Suddenly. He’s having weird dreams about some man he doesn’t know and they’re making him feel things when he has specifically trained his body to NOT feel things and what’s happening to him? And then dreams become daydreams. And then he’s losing time. HES LOSING TIME. Which is literally his worst nightmare. It’s making him fuckinf spiral, his routines are being thrown off, the small semblance of control is slipping, so he’s already at his wits fucking end when a goddamn voice in his head starts talking to him. Like that’ll do it.
But then the voice, the man, the figure from his dreams, James, is telling him to relax. Telling him you’re so wound up. I can feel it, you know? How tired you are. It’s okay baby, let me take the reins for the day. You just have to sit back up in that head of yours—of ours—and let it all turn to static for a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll give you your body back tonight. Don’t you trust me? Wouldn’t it feel good to just.. let go for a bit?
And eventually regulus discovers that it DOES feel good. He fucking loves it. He gives up control willingly for the first time, he lets James do it all for him, to move him around like a puppet in the most literal sense but it’s different from his family, from everyone else. It’s freeing.
and it’s like this weird corruption-anticorruption thing because yes james is influencing him and planting thoughts in his head and literally taking over his body at points but it’s all to make him do…kinda good things? “Fuck the company, don’t show up today, let’s go to the coast like you used to as a kid,” “don’t pick up the phone, I know you’ve never declined your mother’s call before, but just try. Don’t you feel powerful?” Until eventually reg is sabotaging the company, his family, he’s basically suicide-bombing the stock market, he’s giving all his money away, etc etc. he’s more free than he’s ever felt in his life and to the outside world he looks absolutely insane and, shit, maybe he is, but it feels fucking amazing.
I just love the thought of James’ more mundane influence on him too. He’s craving hot Cheetos for the first time in his life and absolutely appalled and confused and James is like “shit my bad I was thinking abt them.” James has him smoke weed for the first time (the scene I have planned for this……) and he has to take over to roll the joint for him. Why the fuck is reg enjoying abba music? But also—why the fuck is a demon enjoying abba music?
I’ve rambled way too much so I’ll reign it in there. Lots of details subject to change, but this is basically all I’m thinking abt these days.
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strangesickness · 2 days
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richie getting diagnosed with ADHD (or hyperkinetic disorder or ADD or whatever you get the point) as a child but since doctors are... doctors... no one really ever explains it to him and he spends his entire childhood thinking he has the "loud annoying disorder" instead of actually understanding what ADHD is and why it makes him feel/act the way he does...
richie thinking ADHD is something you grow out of and as a result of that + losing his memories of having friends he was comfortable unmasking around, beginning to mask heavily as an adult to fit in with his peers... only showing his ADHD traits in small, palatable pieces for the sake of a self deprecating joke....
richie always feeling like theres something crawling under his skin and letting out the energy in harmful ways because the alternative is any number of heavily stigmatized behaviours he's only seen in gags on TV and he's already dragging under the weight of what people will think of him if they find out he's gay, he doesn't need anything else for them to pick at
richie forcing eye contact until he feels like his insides are going to become his outsides, richie in the beginning going out to open mics every night to try to make it even though he feels like he's going to melt out of his skin if he has to mask for another minute. richie's throat blocking up when he's anxious and him losing the ability to say anything other than canned jokes he's been doing since he was 13.
richie getting mike's call and experiencing a sudden and intense skill regression as a result of his returning memories, suddenly finding himself completely unable to deal with things he "dealt with" (not really) before, richie finding he can't bring himself to look his friends in the eye even though he's been forcing eye contact for years, richie bouncing his knee so hard he shakes the table, richie finding himself unable to get out of bed after the jade because he's so drained socially (+ the other stuff lol), richie stimming vocally while they're looking for the clubhouse and freaking out over it and looking at all his friends for their reaction.
he doesn't know why he's acting this way, why he suddenly can't just suck it up and deal with it like he's been doing for nearly 3 decades, and he's already freaked out enough as is with the clown, and he wants the losers to like him as an adult so bad, why is he being weird, and he's so overwhelmed by everything and he has absolutely no means of dealing with it because he's been pushing everything down for his entire life and can't even name what he's feeling.
post it 2 richie going to therapy to try and deal with the clown trauma and coming out of it with a new understanding of what ADHD is... post it 2 richie learning to be easy on himself when he's overwhelmed. richie unlearning all of the stigma thats followed him his entire life and learning to be okay with himself...
oh btw eddie is also in therapy and his therapist suggests he get screened for ADHD. to no ones surprise he does in fact have ADHD. despite richie having been diagnosed with ADHD decades ago it is very much a simultaneous learning process for them. they're like reading articles about ADHD on the computer together like "hrmmm... OH that makes so much sense" they find out about common experiences for people with ADHD and text the other like "lol this you?"
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zharaely · 2 days
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The Birth of a Hero was weird...
Putting aside the fact that it was actually written to be a guidebook for Kim Rok Soo, it was so obvious how weird The Birth of a Hero was as a 'novel' looking back, especially when you re-read the early chapters of TCF. It was weirdly detailed and descriptive about what should've been minor or unnecessary information if it was actually a novel.
For example, The Indestructible Shield, which was an ancient power that wasn't owned or found by anyone in the novel but just so happens to be in the Henituse Territory. It wasn't related at all to the main characters, but TBOAH went into detail about the ancient power's history, its original owner, its location, how to obtain it, and the response to expect once you feed the man-eating tree. I wonder whether Kim Rok Soo ever questioned why Nelan Barrow would write so much about something 'not important' while reading TBOAH, if whether or not the author just decided to ramble about world lore he made up but couldn't tie into the main story. Kim Rok Soo is better than me because I would've gotten really bored.
Also, TBOAH didn't just get into detail about the Ancient Powers either, since it also had a LOT to say about the Original Cale Henituse, his family, and the territory in general. From the very beginning, when Kim Rok Soo wakes up in the body of Cale Henituse, he goes to the bathroom to find the full body mirror the Original Cale Henituse had that was mentioned in the novel. That is INCREDIBLY random information to mention about a minor villain whose sole purpose was to get beaten up by the protagonist. But it doesn't happen just once. When Cale asks Deruth for an allowance, he recalls that the Original Cale also received a large allowance but the exact amount was never mentioned in the novel. Later on, when Ron serves Cale lemonade instead of cold water, he recalls again how the Original Cale hated sour things just like himself.
If he really was inside of the novel, he knew that there should be a large mirror inside.
As expected, the full body mirror was inside the bathroom. Cale Henituse, who had a lot of interest in his appearance and physique, had this mirror set up in here. Nobody else in the household had such a mirror.
The novel did mention that Cale received a large allowance, but it did not mention the exact amount. However, he could realistically understand how large it was based on the amount listed on the cheque.
He really is an insidious man. He knows that, just like Kim Rok Soo, the original Cale hates sour things. But he still chose to bring lemonade, which would take more work to prepare than cold water. [...]
It's pretty obvious by now that TBOAH went deeper into the Original Cale Henituse's character than a normal novel should have in just the first volume, like how he despised gangsters and scammers or how he had horrible aim when drunk, and his relationships with Ron and his family. Kim Rok Soo would recall reading about flashbacks to Cale being woken up by a servant that wasn't Ron which led to a ton of swearing, Cale breaking everything at his spot in the bar once, and Cale getting a scar on his side while drinking the night before meeting Choi Han. The novel also mentioned things that no one else but the Original Cale Henituse knew about, such as how he had high alcohol tolerance but just flushed easily which made people assume he was lightweight. if I were the one reading TBOAH, I would've started to wonder whether the author was planning to make Cale Henituse an important character later on (and maybe he was, but there were only 5 volumes).
The Henituse Family wasn't mentioned as much as Cale was, except for how people pushed the 15-year-old Basen to be the head of the family and how Basen started acting as the family's successor since 2 years ago, but it's odd enough that Nelan Barrow decided to describe characters that Choi Han never even meets (if we assume he only encounters Cale and Deruth and no one else in the family). There were even descriptions of the slums in the Henituse Territory and the Henituse Family business, like???
All of it further cements the fact that The Birth of a Hero was very much a guidebook written for Kim Rok Soo, who was going to swap bodies with Cale Henituse, and to help him adjust to his new life and plan for the future. The novel was fucking suspicious from the start!!!
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jonjaydami · 2 days
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So I need to know what animal they think is the batfamilies special interest.
Like we all know they are on the spectrum like look at Bruce. He's a 30 year old man that dresses as a bat and don't get me wrong there are several reasons he dresses as one but it always has something to do with the animal itself and I always think that's funny how it's even used as a joke in several comics, and animated movies/ shows.
So Bruce knows everything about bat's, shape color, species, what food they eat and how they live and even the different culture views on bat's. He could talk all day about it if asked and he always does it with the utmost care. Like he was giving a speech at a gala or speaking to the league.
I think we all know Dicks is obviously Robin's. Cause why else would he choose to be a brightly colored vigilante that's after a bird from the north? I feel like after moving in with Bruce he took a quiz on what bird he would be cause he was studying birds in school and got a Robin and took that to heart as a passion and not only learned everything about a Robin's but that had just become his identity for awhile and he loved it. Bruce when he heard it at first had thought it wouldn't work but after making him his own costume and even watching several videos on the birds he thought it fit his son nicely.
Jason didn't break away from the Robin role and embraces it actually. But he was always way more shy when it came to discussing his favorite. I think he would have a fascination with bugs and snakes and would absolutely be the kid with a spider or a beardy. He once convinced Bruce to get him a baby beardy and then it became an obsession. He had a sweatshirt that even had a cartoonish looking beardy printed on it and he proudly talks about it to any one who asked. Bruce would silently close his eyes and soak in all the information about them he could.
I totally think Tim loves frogs and even sea creatures. He has a tank with shrimp in it and his boyfriend makes fun of him and calls him a shrimp farmer but he also has a tank that has glass frogs in it. It's a huge tank that takes up over half his room and he loves just watching them sleep and even makes cute little tiktoks with them. He always is getting cute things for the habitat and going shopping. He also takes Damian on these trips. Because they both enjoy walking around and even stopping to pet or talk to the people who bring in their dogs. Bruce also enjoys walking into Tim's room and seeing the frogs and shrimp and even says hello to them before leaving again.
Damian is no stranger to having a soft spot for animals but I know he loves cats and dogs. He is definitely a cat person. Alfred the cat is his prized possession and he will proudly take pictures and then draw them. He loves using his animals as drawing references and has multiple books filled to the brim of just them. Sometimes if they are really good he goes to Bruce and asks them to be laminated so he can hang them up in his room because they deserve to be celebrated and respected. He also tells Bruce odd facts about his animals. How Alfred (the cat) specifically likes to sleep on his left side and enjoys being scratched behind his ears the most.
Bruce loves his weird sons because he is weird and for Christmas he always gets them something related to their animals because it's like a bonding experience for them. Some days they don't even talk about anything but their animals but I can imagine them all settling on a couch and out of pure bordem putting on documentaries and spending time just listening and learning. Of course this could also lead into some heated debates about who's animals is the best.
Jason: no you don't understand
Damian: *scoffs* actually Todd you never understood anything
Dick: ok well I set the whole thing for Robin soooo
Tim: oh please you were eight!!
Bruce: I think we are forgetting how bats-
Kids: *groan because they have been hearing about bat's for over half their lives and are tired*
Alfred just walks in and smiles as he sets a pitcher down.
Alfred: actually you are forgetting how important bee's are to the environment. Which is why I plant only the best pollinator friendly flowers
Cue to everyone rioting cause after all this time Alfred has never talked about the fact he is in fact a bee guy. Ever since he started working for the Wayne's they let him have full control of the gardens and he always loved that in the bleak of Gotham he had his own personal eden with the flowers. Bruce's parents also appreciated him for this and would let Alfred do as he pleased when he would passionately talk to them about the bees. Even when they passed away Bruce had always assumed Alfred just did it because he didn't trust anyone else.
Which was part way true but he loves watching them bumble around and bump into each other as he works.
If anyone knows what Duke, steph, and Cass would like please comment or feel free to debate!! Just please remember to be nice and save the bees 🐝
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 hour
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a waste of a beautiful dress - n. hischier
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summary: an unhappy valentine's day date doesn't always end up with you watching lord of the rings alone with a glass of wine...at least, not when a certain captain can help it
warnings: talks of sex/bad date, mention of alcohol consumption, descriptions of the above facial injury, swearing, cutesy 2.1k thing
a/n: this is a short imagine-thing i wrote on valentine's day that i kind of forgot about (i was gonna write more but i just couldn't think of what to do, so if the ending's weird, that's why!) and i didn't want to not publish this for you guys, so...enjoy!
“Is everything okay?”
You blinked, the elevator coming back to focus around you, the walls distorting the reflection of someone that, rather against your will, you’d found growing increasingly familiar with each week. The bottle of wine in your grasp felt suddenly heavier under his careful scrutiny, and you felt your fist tighten around it, almost protectively.
You could only imagine what you looked like: nice clothes – maybe a little too  nice for an evening stroll or a walk around the block, and a tarnished, almost numb expression on your face, even despite the conflicted tornado swirling inside your mind. There was no doubt he’d deciphered your distracted look and the dejection written so plainly on your face. Yet, though you knew what he saw, you refused to feel pity for yourself.
You inhaled, plastering a tight smile on your face as you looked towards him, his beloved beanie on his head and a backpack on his shoulders. His head was dipped a little, a slight furrow between his brows, ever telling of his caring tendencies, and you suddenly felt a little better, even despite the previous events.
“I’m fine.” You tried, slyly moving the bottle further out of his sight. It didn’t work: his eyes seemed to catch the slight motion before meeting yours, a look of disbelief on his face, “You?” You asked, desperate to turn his attention away from you.
Nico Hischier wasn’t someone you’d have found yourself chatting to casually mere months ago, at least not past the usual pleasantries. Though, it seemed the mutual friends and the many parties had oiled that creaking joint somewhere along the way, and – hesitantly – you were friends to some degree. So much so that every so often the two of you may find yourselves in the other’s apartment with a mug of coffee or a glass of wine in hand with something playing on the TV.
Of course, no one else knew about that.
He sighed, leaning back against the mirror opposite you. There was a cut under his eye you hadn’t seen immediately, but when he leant back the light seemed to catch the green skin and the scratch. He seemed to notice your concerned wince before you could point it out, his hand flying up to lightly press underneath it, “It’s fine, I just caught a puck yesterday.”
Before he could say anything else, and you knew he would because he started to frown again, you interrupted, a slight laugh of mirth passing your lips, “No big deal.”
He froze a little, but still a smile replaced the apprehension as he shook his head, "Better my cheek than my teeth.” 
“That’s true.” You grinned in agreement, attention immediately turning to the opening doors as they dinged, your floor appearing before you.
“After you.” Nico gestured, following closely behind as you both wandered to the end of the hall, your eyes glued to the patterned tiles beneath your feet, before a thought suddenly struck you, and with some urgency.
“Do you have Arnica?” You turned to Nico, your hand hovering under your own eye when he blinked in confusion, shaking his head, “For your eye? It helps with pain and bruising.”
“Uh…”
“Unless you want to keep your battle scar?” You teased lightly, unzipping your bag to pull out your keys, only to notice his still-close presence by your shoulder, even despite being outside your door.
You looked up, only to be met with a sheepish smile, one that you knew meant you’d caught him, but he shrugged, “The Arnica seems sensible.”
“Sensible?” You pushed your key through the door, turning the lock.
“It’s not much of a battle scar when a rubber disc wins.” He rationalised, walking through your doorway when you held it open for him and immediately gravitating towards the cat bed towards the far end of your apartment.
By the time you’d locked the door, shed your coat and placed your bag and the wine on the counter, he’d returned, still in his coat, beanie and backpack with a fond look on his face, your cat snuggled in his arms with no complaints of the attention except a rumbling, contented purr.
His eyes seemed to drop to your dress, and widen a little, and you knew there was absolutely no dodging his questions, not when he seemed to grow a little wary and dart his gaze to the bottle of wine on the counter.
“Did you have any Valentine’s plans today?” he asked lightly, briefly turning his attention back to the cat in his arms, most likely to give you a moment to steel yourself.
You hesitated, adjusting the straps on your dress. Nico was lovely, you knew that; he’d never once said or done anything to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something more serious and vulnerable as to what you were about to say – lying wasn’t really in the cards, mostly because you knew he knew whatever had happened already hadn’t particularly ended well.
He’d caught you on the verge of tears in an elevator by yourself, clutching a bottle of wine, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t do that on Valentine’s day unless something had gone wrong.
“I did.” You breathed, quickly wiping down the counter surface and avoiding looking at him, trying to fight the embarrassment clawing its way up your throat, threatening to spill colour onto your cheeks.
You had nothing to be embarrassed about whatsoever.
He said nothing, just watched you carefully, keeping his distance. If you didn’t want to talk about it, you knew he wouldn’t even press the subject.
“I had a date earlier–” out of the corner of your eye, you saw his gaze cut to the clock on the wall: half-past six. “It didn’t go well.”
He nodded, treading carefully with his words, “How come?”
“He made some comments that I couldn’t really ignore, and when I asked him about it, y’know, to just clarify some things, he kicked off, I corrected him, he sulked, and then left halfway through when I went to the toilet.” You said in one breath, feeling your skin prickle with the reminder of the entire ordeal, scrubbing at a spot on the counter – sometimes grease just didn't budge.
There was the dull thud of paws against your floor, and you looked up to see Nico standing at the opposite side of the counter, an unreadable expression on his face. His brows were pulled together, but there was no telltale crease; his mouth was parted, but in a way that suggested he was a bit more hesitant at finding out what you had to say than a mortified scowl.
“What did he say?” His tone of voice was unwavering, but the slight edge to it sent your heart pounding a little harder nonetheless.
He had a sister, he was probably thinking of all the worst possible scenarios.
You felt your voice get caught in your throat, and you found yourself wishing you’d never even been this honest with him in the first place, because you felt…embarrassed, almost, to admit it fully, “He made a ‘my place or yours after this’ comment and I told him I didn’t want to sleep with him, so he left the first chance he got.” You said quietly, still making yourself busy with tidying the kitchen.
You inhaled deeply, spinning on your heel and fiddling with some of the utensils before you could gain the courage to even look in his direction. You didn’t want to see him pity you.
Except, when you did look up, you saw none of the pity you’d been expecting. In fact, his mouth was pressed firmly shut, and when he caught you looking at him, he – very insistently – muttered, “Well, he’s a fucking dick.”
You felt the corners of your mouth twitch up in some hint of a smile, “Thanks.”
Then, almost like it did in the elevator, the light seemed to catch the shiner under his eye, reminding you of the very reason he’d walked through your threshold in the first place, and you began to wander through the hallway, “I’ll go get the Arnica.”
He nodded in response, shucking his coat and draping it across the back of one of the stools, before bending down to stroke the cat nuzzling at his shins. You rounded the corner into your bathroom, rifling through the cupboard for the tube of cream, before making your way back into the living area, the tube outstretched in your hand.
He took it from you gently, leaning his elbows across the countertop as he read the information on the back of it silently.
“What about you?” You asked, and he looked up, “Any Valentine’s Day plans?”
He blinked, sighing, “I laid in bed for an hour longer than usual.” He said simply, “Then I went to a late morning skate, came home, watched some TV, went to the gym, and now I’m here. So, no, not really.” He inhaled, and you felt yourself grow a little uneasy when he started poking the swelling under his eye, looking into his phone to apply the cream, “You got any more plans?”
Your eyes darted to the bottle of wine, “I was gonna drink wine and watch Lord of the Rings.”
He breathed a startled laugh, “Sounds like a good plan.”
“It is.” You agreed, pausing to consider something, before taking a breath, “Do you wanna join me?”
It wasn’t something you’d never done with each other before; in fact, the two of you seemed to get along better without a cacophony of people interrupting (though that wasn’t much of a surprise), however there was something more delicate and meaningful in the knowledge of the day: Valentine’s Day was undoubtedly something that was weighing on both your minds. It was impossible not to – the posts on social media, the love hearts plastered in shop windows and the flowers everywhere didn’t let you forget it.
It just felt different, somehow.
Nico’s fingers faltered under his eye, and he looked up, brown eyes a little wider than usual, with his mouth parted in surprise. Evidently, he’d been thinking along similar lines to you, but Valentine’s Day wasn’t just about romance and love and whatnot: it was also just another day.
He blinked, eyes searching your face for regret in asking, or for some sign that he should turn down your offer, no matter how tantalising it was.
“It’s not gonna drink itself.” You joked lamely, watching as he slowly nodded, ducking his head down to mask the smile you knew was now on his face.
“Are you sure?” He mumbled, placing his phone on the counter and screwing the top back onto the cream. His eye was now shining a little, but it gave you inexplicable comfort to know that it was at least taken care of temporarily.
Even looking at it seemed to send a dull ache thrumming across your cheekbone.
“I’m sure.” 
Then: “Did you eat on that date?” He asked, raising a brow.
“No.”
He frowned, but showed nothing to say he was particularly shocked by that answer, and stood up from the stool very quickly – quick enough to startled the cat, and quick enough to have to catch the stool from falling over in his haste, “Do you maybe want to get something to eat, first? I know a good place a couple of blocks away.”
You stuttered, not entirely expecting such a spontaneous proposal, “Sure, I just—I should change first, though.”
His eyes dragged down your figure, and for the first time ever, you found yourself trying to regain control of the sudden blush that threatened to stain your cheeks, before he tutted, met your eyes, smiled and shook his head, dimples as clear as they’d ever been. There was something bright in his eye, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume there was some mischief lingering there – as though he knew exactly what you were refraining from doing under his gaze.
“Personally,” he started off slowly, “I think it’d be a waste of a beautiful dress.”
You sucked the inside of your cheek, looking down at your dress. It was beautiful, though arguably it had already been wasted on the day considering the hellish date experience, but maybe eating out with Nico would change that? 
“In that case…” You trailed off, grabbing your coat and slipping your shoes back on, “But–” You whirled around, Nico’s hand going suspiciously fast to cover his mouth, though the crinkles by his eyes certainly told you everything you needed to know, and arched an accusing brow in his direction, “I’m changing when we get back.”
“Fine by me.” He held up his hands in surrender, mouth pressed tightly together to prevent himself from laughing, and you rolled your eyes at his innocent act, but said nothing.
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lowkeyrobin · 1 day
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Can u do like general dating bill kaulitz headcannons I swear I only ever see NSFW
yeah of course!!! ; and dw I feel the same way 😭 I beg of fandoms in general to at least just use the smut tag properly that way ppl can filter it / just tag smut instead of ___ smut lmaoo ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!!
BILL KAULITZ ; dating shenanigans
summary ; dating stuff with Bill!
warnings ; language
word count ; 430
masterlist
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matching piercings are a must I'm afraid
you share clothes religiously, especially if you have opposite clothing aesthetics, it just be that way
lots of matching jewelry too, if not, then bracelets at least
belts are just a universally traded item for you two idk
he loves just getting to know you more each and every day, like the music you listen to, he'll participate in your hobbies with you, you'll go shopping together etc etc
he always brings you along for shopping trips / sprees, he needs to make sure he looks hot 😔🙏
lovesss taking pictures with you 🫶
you 100% have matching tattoos (took like three or four years to get them though, obviously)
he does the hugging you from behind and stuffing his hands in your pockets thing 🤞
you met at an instrument store/workshop whatever you call it
tom needed one of his guitars re-stringed and he came along
you were restocking stuff around the shop and his eyes landed on you
BAM
instantly fell in love. you're literally like the love at first sight / friends to lovers dynamic
tom obviously caught on and gave his brother the balls to go talk to you
he doesn't even know why he's nervous, probably because he doesn't know how to start conversation, but he decided to compliment your hair
most the weird parasocial fangirls aren't your biggest fan but the nice ones adore you
you never even really went 100% public, you were at most just hanging out in public, everything else stayed private for a multitude of reasons (understandable)
tom is literally your biggest shipper
georg and gustav are like your nephews 💀
got a whole family out of one dude fr
you confessed first
he didn't think you'd like him back so he gave up on his crush on you
like sir stuffing a crush away and continuing to basically love that person isn't gonna help
you got him some flowers and got him a signed cd from one of his idols and asked him out
literally freaked out 😭
"do you wanna go out sometime?"
"YES! YES! OH MY GOSH YES"
finally, songs that would kinda summarize your relationship!
love on the brain ; rihanna
give ; sleep token
take me back to eden ; sleep token
the summoning ; sleep token
every time you leave ; i prevail & delaney jane
him ; tokio hotel
angel eyes ; new years day & chris motionless
1000 years ; bush & amy lee
alkaline ; sleep token
as young as we are ; tokio hotel
love who loves you back ; tokio hotel
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