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#the only time you get my thoughts on things is if they're really necessary
mutedstring · 1 year
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I posted 41,945 times in 2022
That's 38,967 more posts than 2021!
10 posts created (0%)
41,935 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@cryptidfucky
@namchyoon
@boon-dots
@kimchokejin
@bruhthatsgay
I tagged 39 of my posts in 2022
#i mean - 2 posts
#about me - 2 posts
#oh man i remember quizilla - 1 post
#honestly - 1 post
#i'm here for it - 1 post
#gimme a kiss that's a spark of fire - 1 post
#the princess and the goblin - 1 post
#it was an animated film - 1 post
#i absolutely adored it - 1 post
#definitely recommend if you want a non-disney animated film - 1 post
Longest Tag: 101 characters
#your love is knowing their favorite gas station snack their coffee order their loved and hated songs.
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
tfw you’re going to reblog a pretty aesthetic picture, and see “NFT” in the tags.  >:[
0 notes - Posted February 9, 2022
#4
yo mutuals who aren’t into BTS?
yeah I’m sorry Imma be posting ALL the new concert shit >.>
1 note - Posted March 10, 2022
#3
Hello where are you located
Wow, what a personal question to ask. I'm located on the internet.
2 notes - Posted May 18, 2022
#2
✨when u get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to lately, publish and then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool) ✨ [ hello it is me politely requesting some shiny rocks!!! 🥰 ]
Lmfao I would be happy to provide you shiny rocks. Since I am still *also* listening to the same songs over and over again, I'll pull from my "Music of the Day" playlist (link here if you're interested, and yes I did just pull out my limited HTML coding knowledge to link that) 1) Evergreen by Skott 2) W.I.T.C.H by Devon Cole 3) Don't Teach Me by Ailee 4) lemonade by Chilli Beans 5) Superbloom by Misterwive (stripped version) If you'd like links to any of those tracks, just throw me a dm and I'll send over YouTube links (cuz I have all of these tracks up in my browser at all times, pretty much)
3 notes - Posted July 21, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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I sincerely hope this was the same person because that would be delicious.
7 notes - Posted June 26, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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qumiiiquinnquin · 6 months
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ill never be good enough at anything
#vent#events of today only proved it#im genuinely so close to giving up completely#i dont feel happy when I draw because I know its not good enough and im ashamed when others see it because I know they think the same thing#I dont feel satisfied or accomplished when finishing schoolwork because I know others will have done it better and responded better and im#the stupidest person of the entire class. some things I just dont understand but I know everyone else or lots of others did#i cant do anything right. i cant socialize correctly. i cant remember to do anything. i cant keep any stable relationships#i know if i get a job they'll ly me off or fire me within days max weeks. i dont expect to be able to hold down a job for long#i dont have the skills necessary to become what I want to be which is a meteorologist. i struggle in math and that career is a lot of math#i actually want to be an artist too but ill die a lonely death. i cant even do this class. and artists are not paid enough to survive#hell what I do right now with art in my spare time is much worse than others. a mouse and microsoft paint. both arent good enough#i cant not compare myself to others. i know that they're all better than me. and im around these people every day and see it on social medi#i really want to put my art in our shredder and permanently delete files. i want to drop out. i dont know what to do with myself because i#know that im not good enough for anything except lay in bed like the depressed piece of shit i am and end up getting kicked out#i thought about just leaving class today and throwing myself down the stairwell from the top floor i was already on#just over the barrier thats right next to the first flight of stairs that prevents people from falling off the stairs from a height#the one you can look down and see the following flight of stairs. just throw myself down from that and hurt myself significantly.#ive been thinking about jumping again. from a new part of campus thats higher than where i initially wanted to fall from#if not those then sl!t my wrist or run into traffic#i just need to d!e. There's no room for someone as worthless as me#i cried when I came home today because im just done. i cant carry on and itd be better if i didnt. itd be preferred.
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pibsboots · 3 months
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I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.
Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.
It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.
When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.
Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.
Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.
I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.
But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.
With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.
If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.
Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.
Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.
Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.
It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.
All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.
There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.
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gurugirl · 5 months
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2. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
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Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: The night has arrived and things are going really well for all three of you until suddenly they're not.
A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.
Word Count: 10k+
Warning: 18+ only, smut, jealousy, angst, hurt feelings, daddy kink
The Unicorn Masterlist
When you left, Harry walked back inside his house feeling like a new man. He felt real. He felt strong and virile. He didn’t know what had come over him being so direct with you. So rapacious. But it felt natural. It was like something about you brought it out of him.
It wasn’t until he was sitting at the table with the boys eating dinner that any little inkling of guilt started to wash over him. It was then he realized he hadn’t even thought about Kit since he started making dinner. He was conjuring up images in his mind of what you would look like on Saturday in various positions. Imagined the way your eyes would widen and then squeeze close when you orgasmed. Wondered how many he could coax out of you. He’d completely blocked out that his wife would be participating.
He would need to tame himself. See how Kit responded to seeing you and him together. If she enjoyed it he could loosen up a little but he was concerned about the way you two clicked. Your dynamic was very good, Harry thought, that he would have a hard time sharing you. Plus, he wasn’t sure whether or not Kit would like to hear you calling him Daddy. And Harry really wanted to hear you call him Daddy again.
When his wife got home the twins were already in bed and Harry was in the master bedroom reading, “So how did it go?” She asked him as she plucked her heels off, placing her palm on their dresser to balance herself.
“It was good. Why don’t you get ready for bed and then we can talk about everything that happened?”
Harry had decided he’d play down what had happened between you two. He’d be honest but he wouldn’t divulge some of his innermost thoughts. The parts where he forgot all about his wife and how your soft and docile demeanor was refreshing and made him feel masculine and wide awake all of a sudden. No. He wouldn’t share that much with her.
Kit turned off the ceiling light and turned on her lamp before climbing into bed with Harry, “So, tell me how it went.”
“Yeah. It was good. She was very open. She said she wanted to join us on Saturday for sure.”
Kit nodded, “And? Did you two kiss or anything?”
Harry’s heart began to lob in his chest at the idea that he was going to tell his wife what he’d done with another woman. Kit seemed fine. She insisted she was but Harry still felt unease about how to handle this situation gracefully. Without anyone getting hurt.
“Yeah, we did. Brought her into the bedroom, here so the kids didn’t see. Kissed her and then got her clothes off, fingered her,” he inhaled softly and felt his cheeks glow and his chest burn. “That was it.”
Kit grinned and slid in close to Harry, smoothing her palm under his shirt, “Yeah? I wish I could have seen it. Did she come?”
Harry puffed out a laugh of disbelief. Maybe he was fretting for nothing. Perhaps his guilt had been needless. Maybe Kit was right. Maybe this would be really good for them.
“Yes.” He looked down at where his wife’s hand was traveling.
“And did you come?”
“No. I kept all my clothes on when I was with her and then when she left I had to get dinner for the boys and I was with them until I finally got into bed a bit ago.”
Kit palmed over his crotch, “You poor man. You did so good for me today, baby.” She kissed his lips, “You deserve a treat.”
Harry sighed as his wife put her hand into his night pants and began to pump his cock slowly. Closing his eyes with a smile he realized he probably had nothing to worry about.
.           .           .
You were a mess. You couldn’t sleep in the way that was necessary to function properly the next day. You kept going from squealing into your pillow like a 16-year-old after your crush admitted to liking you too, to feeling overwhelming anxiety about what was to come. Kit was an unknown in the equation. For many reasons.
The first was that you’d never been intimate with a woman even though you crushed on women for longer than you had men. The second was that you were worried that now that you’d called Harry Daddy and knew how much he liked it, even if Kit didn’t like that it would be hard for you to turn that off. The third thing was that you weren’t sure you’d want to see Harry kissing anyone else or watch him preferring his wife over you, because he would. Because Kit was so much prettier than you and she was his wife, the mother of his children. You were certain that you’d wind up kind of being the third wheel.
But maybe you had it all wrong. Maybe you’d love being with Kit and things would just be fun. But your rabbit hole Google search wound up landing you on a subreddit all about this kind of thing and did not leave you with confidence about what was to come. So many horror stories about “unicorn hunters” finding their “unicorn” and the ways threesomes can end a marriage.
But you said yes. And you intended to follow through. They both really seemed to want it. And you trusted them. Perhaps your experience would be among the rare ones that worked out for the better.
The rest of the week felt like you were slowly entering into a new realm of existence. Dramatic way to put it but that’s just how it felt. Things would change for you. Not only would you be having your first sexual encounter with a woman, but you’d also be having a threesome. You’d be in the middle of a married couple and that was not a situation you thought you’d ever get into.
But also, you were very aware that Harry was planning on fucking you. In front of his wife. And you couldn’t imagine that going well. Of course, you forced your fantasy to make it positive but there was something that was telling you that it wouldn’t be. You hoped you were just nervous for nothing.
On Friday before you left Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ home, William and Warren were told to get their suitcases ready for grandma and grandpa to pick them up the following morning.
Kit helped you put your bag on your shoulder, as she spoke, “We’re really excited about tomorrow. I hope you are too, Y/n.”
You smiled as you turned to look at her, “I am. A little nervous, I’ll admit.”
You were more than a little nervous.
“That’s okay. We are too. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow and go from there.”
Harry walked into the living room with you and Kit and there was just something different about him following that night he had you in his bed. It made you squirmy and intimidated. His eyes had always been intense but now they felt more severe. Daunting.
“So, tomorrow at 3 then?” He asked you as he raised his brows.
You nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be here.”
And from the moment you drove away from the Styles’ house until you knocked on their front door the following afternoon, you couldn’t get yourself to calm down or think about anything else.
You paced and talked out loud to yourself. You set up scenarios in your head and acted them all out, some of them turning you on quite a lot, you couldn’t lie. You practiced how you’d respond in certain situations. You took a long bath with salts and essential oils and got rid of as much hair as possible from your body so you’d be extra smooth.
You played your music loudly. You masturbated thinking about the way Harry fingered you. You picked the perfect outfit and panties. And you tried to sleep. But that was nearly impossible.
When you did finally wake up it was already noon. You’d slept in. Which shouldn’t have surprised you because you couldn’t get to sleep the night before. You jolted up from your bed and panicked as you ran into the bathroom to get the shower going. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You wondered what Harry and Kit were doing to prepare. Were they freaking out like you were? They both said they’d never done anything like this so they had to be at least a little nervous about everything.
Your soft pink lace bra and panties were your favorites. You didn’t wear them all the time but it felt like the appropriate affair to break them out.
At about 2 pm you received a text from Kit.
If you’d like, you can stay the night. We would be happy to have you all night.
That, you hadn’t expected. You had envisioned it being along the lines of you and the Styles getting finished up and then using their bathroom before an awkward goodbye and See you Monday (you really had thought of every scenario already).
But to stay the night? Would you sleep in their bed with them? Or would they offer you their guest room? Or the couch? You couldn’t imagine sleeping next to them all night. Of course, maybe that would be nice? You really didn’t know. It was hard to think with a clear brain when Harry was involved. The whole situation was wacky but the opportunity to be allowed to sleep with Harry and his pretty wife and have everything be just fine after (hypothetically) was simply not something you’d want to say no to.
.           .           .
Harry was nervous. He was trying to reign in his thoughts and his doubts. He didn’t want Kit to know how deep his worries ran. Because she seemed excited. She seemed far calmer than he felt.
He forced himself to eat breakfast and a light lunch so she didn’t question it. He didn’t know how things would play out once you arrived. And he tried not to imagine all the salacious things he’d been thinking about you in his private time.
When you’d finally arrived with your bag in hand and knots in your tummy Harry took deep breaths as Kit answered the door and hugged you in greeting.
“I hope you’re hungry! I’m making salmon and parmesan risotto.It’s my specialty and I think you’ll like it.” Kit led you to the kitchen where her husband stood and the moment he laid his eyes on you the smallest something ignited in him. It was only a spec of something but it was as if a layer of worry was wiped away instantly. Just seeing your pretty smile with your bag in hand had his mind swirling with thoughts of what might come. He realized part of him didn’t think you’d actually show up. But you did.
He tried leaning on Kit’s poise and mimicking her excited demeanor. On the way she seemed so calm but confident. That’s how it should have been for him. But the bigger parts of worry in him stemmed from the fact that his more dominant natural inclination was starting to peek through the cracks slowly. He’d even initiated something with Kit the night before, which she quickly shot down. He knew his wife was not one for being submissive. Or at least letting him take the reigns fully. But he knew Y/n would want it.
And worse yet, he hadn’t asked Kit if she’d mind if you called him Daddy. That was weighing heavy on him. He knew he should have talked to her about it days prior but there was part of him that worried she wouldn’t like that. He wasn’t sure how it would be brought up at that point but it would come out sooner or later he was positive. Especially with the way you seemed to love saying it.
“This looks so good, thank you, Mrs. Styles,” you smiled softly and looked from Harry to Kit and then back to the steaming pot ofrisotto. You weren’t sure you’d be able to eat much but you’d force something down. Your mind was jumbled and you felt tense.
But of course, this was something new for all of you. You’d all be going through this together and so you probably didn’t have much to worry about.
Harry took your little bag from your hand and his bright green eyes on you felt hot, “I’ll take this upstairs unless you need anything from it right now?”
You shook your head, “I don’t need it. Thank you, Mr. Styles.”
You had wanted to ask Harry what his wife thought about the whole Daddy thing but you hadn’t had the chance the rest of the week and even if you had you wouldn’t have been able to get the nerve up to ask.
“So, what are you thinking? What things are you into?” Kit asked as she handed you a glass of wine.
You leaned your hip into the counter and shrugged, “I don’t know. I think I like it when other people take the lead. I’m sort of, maybe a little submissive,” you laughed softly as you brought your glass up to your lips and looked at Kit. It was the first time you’d really taken her in since you’d arrived. She was wearing a pretty black lacey dress that fit her gorgeous body like it was made for her. Black heels, a smoothed back, high ponytail. Bright red lips, perfectly done eyeliner. Her cheekbones made you envious. You’d always noticed her cheekbones in the past. As well as Harry’s. Imagined they were made for one another. Two exquisitely stunning people.
Kit leaned against the counter next to you, her body turned toward yours, “That’s perfect for Harry and me. We’re both a bit dominant,” she sipped her glass and you watched her eyes trail down over your neck. You’d put on a pretty choker. Light pink small pearls to go with your sexy (you hoped) pink lacey underwear. Over it, you wore a lightweight cream sweater that was almost sheer with a short white skirt with a print of pink and yellow butterflies all over it. You felt underdressed compared to Kit. She looked like an adult and you looked like a child.
When Harry returned to the kitchen he poured himself a glass and looked at you and then to his wife, “What’d I miss?”
“Just asked Y/n what she likes. She’s going to let us take the lead. And look at his, H,” she gently put a slender finger under your pearl choker, “she’s perfect. I told you.”
Harry’s gaze felt so heavy on you. It felt like he was dissecting you with his eyes, “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”
A safe choice of words.
Dinner was quite delicious. Though you weren’t really that hungry, the wine you drank helped you feel a bit more comfortable, and sitting and chatting about normal things with Kit and Harry felt really good.
You helped clean up. Harry had put on some music and you were feeling loose from the wine so you were swaying the tiniest bit with the beat. When you felt hands at your hips you turned and it was Kit, swaying with you. She leaned her chin over your shoulder and spoke into your ear, “Leave the dishes. Those can wait. I think it’s time to get comfortable and talk. Come,” she pulled at you and you suddenly weren’t feeling as loose at the notion of talking.
Ground rules. Expectations. It was all necessary stuff.
You followed her into the living room where Harry was already sitting on the couch at one side. He gestured for you to sit next to him and Kit sat down on the opposite side, putting you in the middle.
The music was still playing as Kit turned toward you and put her arm up on the back of the couch, “Tell us your concerns. What things you absolutely do not like.”
You looked down at the coffee table where all three glasses of wine were sat and took a deep breath, “My concerns… I’m worried someone won’t like this after we start. Like,” you looked at Kit, “maybe you realize you don’t want anyone touching Harry. Or even if Harry doesn’t like to see you with anyone else? I just don’t want anyone to feel upset.”
Kit nodded, “A good point. I feel the same. I think we all do. We won’t know until we get into it but I think if there is anything anyone doesn’t like we need to be able to speak up about it. Agreed?”
You nodded, unsure if they wanted you to continue. That was the biggest concern of yours, sort of. You were worried about calling Harry Daddy when things got going. You were worried you would feel left out, which wasn’t fair of you to feel that way. Kit and Harry were married, after all. They’d certainly be paying the most attention to each other.
“Anything else? What things do you not like at all? What is a hard no for you?”
Harry had been quite silent since you all had sat down. But you were feeling heat pouring off of him. And you could tell he had his eyes on you.
“I mean… maybe if I think of some I’ll tell you? I haven’t done much, to be honest. Nothing stands out in my mind.”
“Do you like to be spanked? Or maybe restrained?” Kit raised her brows at you.
You shrugged, “I haven’t really been spanked before. Definitely not restrained.”
“You haven’t really been spanked?” Harry finally spoke up.
You turned to look at him but found you needed to look away quickly. He was too attractive.
“Well, once a guy sort of smacked at my bottom during… Like I was on top and…” you swallowed trying to calm yourself as you saw his hand move from his lap to the space between your thigh and his on the couch, “Like it was just really quick. Just once. So I wouldn’t say spanked but… yeah.”
“And did you like it?” He asked.
You looked at him and couldn’t help but feel yourself singe with warmth, “I didn’t mind it.”
“We’ll learn as we go,” Kit added.
Harry pulled his gaze away from you to his wife when she spoke and it was the first time you noticed it. His unease. It almost seemed like he’d forced himself to look away from you. Like the way you felt when you looked at him.
Kit reiterated that she agreed with you. That there would need to be open communication. She said that she liked to be dominant or at least to have most of the control.
“And I also like to be in control. To be dominant.” Harry said as he looked at Kit and then to you, “I also wanted to see if it was comfortable for you, Kit, if Y/n calls me Daddy.”
Kit looked to the coffee table quietly in thought and then looked at you, “Do you like that? To call your sexual partner Daddy?”
Your eyes widened at the question. You hadn’t expected that you’d answer this question. But you also assumed Harry had already spoken to Kit about it.
“Uh, well. Yeah, I think so.”
“Have you ever called anyone Daddy during a sexual encounter before? Are you comfortable with that?” Kit pressed.
You shot your sight to Harry and then back to Kit. How did you answer this? He obviously hadn’t told his wife that you were calling him Daddy that night and now you didn’t know if you should reveal that you already had. And Harry had been the only one you’d ever given that moniker to.
“I mean I’d like her to, but if she’s not comfortable with it we don’t have to do it, Y/n.” Harry quickly interrupted. You knew he was doing a bit of damage control. Perhaps that little thing would just be a secret between you and Harry. You were okay with that, you figured. You didn’t want him getting into trouble with Kit.
“Yeah. That’s fine. I don’t mind. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”
“Okay. Good. I’m okay with it, I think. We’ll feel it out and see if we like it,” Kit said, seemingly unbothered.
With the music playing you felt Harry’s pinky graze your bare thigh and Kit leaned forward to grab your glass of wine and hers, handing you yours.
“You smell so good, Y/n,” she said to you with a dreamy look on her face. “Doesn’t she, Harry?”
Sipping your wine you heard his deep voice from your right as he spoke, “She smells delicious.”
The change of the song and Harry’s pinky ghosting at your thigh and Kit’s closeness with her eyes on you had you feeling excited. Your heart began to lob in your chest, faster and faster.
Kit ran her finger up your neck, “You’re so shy. I really love it. Y/n, we’re going to make sure you have fun tonight.”
She got onto her knees and reached across you to pull at Harry’s hand and drew him in for a kiss. You watched them as they wound their mouths together right in front of you. You were smushed back into the couch with your eyes on their lips and watched their tongues meld and lick and heard Kit moaning.
When they parted Harry grabbed your empty glass of wine and placed it on the coffee table before he cradled the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. He wanted to feel your silky lips on his and he wanted to make sure you were included in the fun too. He would see to it you weren’t left out.
Kit watched her husband kissing you, their nanny with amazement. It was the first time she’d ever gotten to enjoy this sort of thing and she already loved it.
You felt Harry’s warm and wet mouth pull away from yours as Kit took over and pressed her lips to yours. The way it felt to have her mouth on yours versus Harry’s was night and day. Kit was soft and unmistakably feminine and you moaned as you reached up to pull your arms over her shoulders. With your body turned toward Kit you felt Harry’s big palm slide up your thigh and lift your skirt just a little before his chest was pressed into your back and his lips were on your neck.
“Can I mark your neck, sweet girl,” Harry groaned into your sensitive skin as Kit’s mouth moved with yours flawlessly.
“Yes, Daddy…” you breathed out the words and hadn’t even realized you said Daddy until the name hung in the air immediately after you’d said it. But no one seemed bothered. Kit only became more fervent and you felt her hand slip under your soft sweater.
“Can I touch you? Will you give us permission to touch your body and play with you now?” Kit panted her words before dotting kisses on your cheeks.
“Oh god. Yes, you can. Anything you want.” You meant it. If they wanted to touch your naked body or see it or tear your clothes off you were already so far gone you just wanted to please them. Everything was green for you so far.
You hissed softly and felt the pinch and sting of Harry’s lips at your neck as he marked you like he wanted.
Kit’s hand slid up your tummy to your pretty bra and she squeezed your plushy tit under her palm, “Just say if you don’t want something. Fuck you have such nice breasts, Y/n…” she leaned back and lifted your sweater before dipping down to kiss over the sheer lacy fabric over your nipples and you gasped.
Harry put his hand on your neck and turned your face toward him roughly, smearing his mouth against yours with a deep moan. You opened your mouth to let his tongue inside and you felt a drizzle of arousal pool into your panties. You loved the way it felt to have his big palm on your neck and his mouth ravaging yours while Kit’s lips and tongue worked over the flimsy fabric of your bra, wetting it and making your nipples hard underneath.
He could feel your delicate pearls under his palm as he used his thumb to squeeze you gently. But when he heard your tiny whimper his cock throbbed in his pants and he pulled at you, “We need to get her upstairs in bed.”
Kit grinned and the three of you awkwardly made your way upstairs. The moment you were in their bedroom Kit had her hands at your skirt, pulling at it, “Want this off of you. Okay? He’s had the chance to see your body but I haven’t yet. I’m dying to see you.”
Harry unbuttoned his shirt as he watched his wife remove your skirt and then peel off your little sweater. He walked up behind Kit and pulled at the bottom hem of her dress to pull it off, “Need you out of this too, Kitty.”
You’d never heard him call his wife Kitty before but it made sense now that you’d heard it.
The moment you saw Kit in her tiny black thong and her amazing tits out (she was sans bra) you dropped your mouth open. Her body was insane. She had a tattoo of a flowering tree on her ribcage and another at her hip with shooting stars. It fit her perfectly.
Harry put his hands on her shoulder as he stood behind her and kissed her neck, his eyes on yours.
“My tits need some love, Y/n. Come here,” she reached for you and it was easy to enjoy the way it felt to have a soft breast in your mouth. You sucked at her nipples and lapped your tongue over her skin with your hands cupping both sides, smushing your fingers in to really feel how soft and lovely it was. You couldn’t believe you’d never done anything with a girl before. You were certainly glad Harry and Kit were so forward.
Harry moved his position from behind his wife to behind you. You hadn’t expected to feel his hands at your bum, squeezing and pulling at your cheeks before giving you a soft smack.
You jolted slightly and looked up at Kit with a laugh.
Harry pressed his hips into your bottom against your pink lacy panties and groaned, “Beautiful ass.”
Kit grasped your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss. Soft and tranquil, wet and warm. There was an easy difference in the way a woman kissed than a man and you adored it.
You felt Harry’s hand at your bottom, pulling at your panties to slide into your crack to give him access to your full bottom. The sudden warmth and wetness against your bum cheek might have startled you more if he hadn’t given you a swat just moments prior. His mouth and tongue moved over your flesh slowly until he pasted a wet kiss right over where your panties were stuffed into your bottom.
He gripped your hips and pushed his face in further, soft lips kissing along where your panties were, “Gotta get these off, okay, Y/n? As pretty as they are,” he put his fingers into the band of your lacy panties and pulled them down your ass and legs and you continued kissing Kit with a wet, desperate tongue.
But you gasped and your eyes bounced open when Harry's mouth found your pussy from behind. He pulled your cheeks and put his mouth between them, licking over your labia. You couldn’t help but to turn to look behind you as best you could to watch his dark curls from behind you.
Kit’s hands slid to the back of your bra and unhooked your clasp to get you out of your bra, “Oh shit.” She took you in and delicately moved her hands over your tits, “Gorgeous.”
Harry stood up and pulled his shirt off his shoulders and then began to take his pants down and underwear. He was too hard in his pants to keep them on. He watched as Kit pulled you to the bed. Now that you were completely naked Kit wanted to see you spread out.
You were pushed to your back and she climbed between your legs, “Can I eat you out a little, Y/n? Missed eating pussy.”
You nodded quickly as Kit smirked at you and gave you one more soft kiss to your lips.
You saw Harry come up behind her and look down at you as his wife bent over to press her lips to your cunt. He looked from Kit’s ass to your face and pulled at her g-string to move it to the side as he pressed his fingers into Kit’s entrance, “So wet already, Kitty. You don’t get wet f’me like this.”
Harry’s strong and broad shoulders, the view of his dark tattoos scattered on his chest and arms made you wish Kit wasn’t in your way so you could see him unobstructed.
Kit moaned and lapped at your clit as she looked up at you, “I just love how she feels, H. I’m so horny looking at her body.”
Harry could agree with that assessment. He was already throbbing and he hadn’t even had his cock touched yet. Not that his wife couldn’t get him worked up but having you in the mix was exciting. New.
He fucked into his wife with his thick fingers from behind her slowly and loved the way you sounded when you moaned. He reached down to grip his cock and stroke himself as he looked at your pretty face. Moving his fingers from Kit’s pussy he slid his tip up and down her crease and she lifted and looked back at him, “Yes, H… fill me with that big dick.”
“Yeah? Want this big cock, baby?” He looked at you as he asked.
You moaned when Kit wrapped her lips around your clit again and you felt her fingers thrust into your soft, wet hole.   
Harry felt good plunging into Kit as always. She was familiar and welcoming. He knew exactly what to expect and exactly what she needed to get off. But this time, as familiar as Kit felt, it was so different as he thrust in and pulled back to his tip with his eyes on yours.
He began to rock into his wife and each thud into her pushed Kit into your pussy harder. Kit was bent down with her mouth on your cunt, her ass in the air at the edge of the bed while Harry stood, feet on the floor, and fucked his wife from behind. But he had a great view of your face and your tits. It almost felt like he was already fucking you with the way your eyes were locked on his.
The delicious surge of Kit’s fingers digging into your pussy and her tongue on your bud had you spinning. But it was Harry’s eyes on yours as he grunted with each roll of his hips that had you nearly at your end already.
Kit lifted and looked at you. When you felt her lips move away you quickly shot your gaze back to hers. She continued fingering you, “You gonna come for me, Y/n? Fuck!” She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed herself back onto Harry as she used her free hand to rub her clit, “God, right there, H.”
When Harry began to go in sharper, Kit placed her mouth back on your pussy and moaned at the way her husband was pounding into her. His deep thrusts were making her press into you.
He grasped Kit’s hips harshly and moaned at the view of his cock stretching his wife out and then looked back at you with your lips parted and your hands squeezing your tits together. Your neck elongated.
The sharp spike of stimulation made you cry out and you couldn’t stop the spiral in your tummy from tensing and twisting as you came. Soft wet lips on your clit and slender fingers pumping through your walls felt amazing. But when you heard Harry groan loudly as he began to come inside of Kit you opened your eyes to find his fixed on yours, mouth dropped open with deep breaths heaving from his picturesque chest.
You felt the final deep thrust as the last of his come drained from his cock into his wife as her mouth smashed into you.
You were both breathless as you came down from your orgasms. The eye contact felt intimate. You loved the way it made you feel connected to Harry and to his wife.
Harry grinned and watched as he slowly slid his cock out of Kit, pinching his fingers into her hips, “Y/n, would you like to eat my come from my wife’s pussy? How does that sound to you, sweet girl?”
You nodded and Kit lifted her face from your pussy slowly. Her own chest was heaving as she was so close to her orgasm, “I love that idea. Want to taste Harry dripping out of me, Y/n?”
You pushed yourself up by your elbows, “Yeah, how should I…?”
Kit crawled over you and pushed you down. She brought her cunt to right over your face and let a bit of Harry’s come trickle out onto your chin and your lips, “We’ll do it like this. Now eat.”
With that, she settled her pussy down onto your mouth and you closed your eyes as you sucked and tried to use your tongue the best you could. You tasted the saltiness of his come and the sharpness of Kit’s arousal mixed as you swallowed and pulled at her folds with your lips. The idea that you were getting to drink Harry’s come made you shiver in delight. You never imagined that you’d be swallowing his come down your throat.
When you felt a big, hot mouth dot kisses along the inside of your thigh and felt the grip of a big hand lifting your leg you were spurred on to lick and suck at Kit harder. You were reminded that there were three people in the room.
You felt Harry’s shoulders push against the back of your thighs and felt a deep vibration of something he mumbled against your pussy before his wide flat tongue licked upward before gently rolling your clit in his mouth, his slick muscle pressing and swirling over it.
The sensation of Harry eating you out in comparison to how Kit did it was night and day. Kit was warm and soft, precise. Harry was like a caveman starved, masculine, and messy. You could already feel the way he was smearing your arousal all around your pussylips and the crease of your thigh.
Kit began to rub at her clit as she brushed her pussy over your lips. Her essence was getting all over your face and you really kind of liked the taste. It wasn’t that different from yours, the smell and taste of it.
“Oh my god, baby, those lips,” she moaned and pinched at her nipples as she began to come.
You could feel her shaking and the way her pussy hole fluttered over your mouth, her hips jerking as she rode into your lips and bumped into your nose.
Meanwhile, Harry was moaning into your pussy and lapping at you like ice cream melting. When you felt the addition of his fingers gently poking past your slippery muscle you let out a muffled groan into Kit’s pussy.
Harry lifted your hips up further and dug in deeper. With the new angle, it felt different and you were unable to gain any leverage with your legs at all. You were totally at his mercy with any movement below the waist.
Kit lifted off and sighed, “Such a good girl, Y/n. How was that?”
You gasped and tried your best to respond while your pussy was getting wrecked with Harry’s mouth and fingers, “I like… really liked it!”
Kit softly ran a finger up your neck and to your cheekbone, “Yeah? For a first time that was good. I think we’ll need more practice but that can be arranged. Can’t it, H?”
Harry grunted and smeared his mouth against your clit. You couldn’t hear it if he responded or not but then when Kit moved away you watched as she grasped Harry’s hair and pulled him off your pussy, “Right, Harry?”
He looked dazed as he darted his eyes from his wife to you, “What?”
“Is her pussy that good that you couldn’t hear me?” Kit laughed.
You saw Harry gulp as he stood up and it was the first time you noticed the big tiger tattoo on his left thigh and the laurels on his hips. He was a piece of art, “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said we could arrange to do this again,” Kit sat back onto her haunches as she looked at her husband.
“Yeah. If Y/n wants.”
Kit looked at you and back to Harry, “So what do we think? Need a break? Are we ready to relax? We’ve all had our orgasms.”
Inwardly you pouted and wanted to throw a fit. You had come but you really really wanted to suck Harry off and have him fuck you. You wouldn’t mind eating Kit out again, but you felt you weren’t done with Harry. Needed a little more.
Harry laughed, “Ready to relax? Kitty, I’m just getting started. I kind of hoped I’d be able to have you choking on my cock or something,” his cocky grin beamed at his wife.
“Choke on your cock? Maybe I’ll let you choke on my dildo. You know I don’t do that. If Y/n wants to she’s welcome to it.”
You sat up and looked from Harry to his wife as they discussed what would come next. Harry looked you up and down like you were going to be an indulgent meal, “Want my dick in your mouth, sweet girl?” Harry gripped his shaft and slowly slid his hand up and down. He was only half-hard. He needed a minute to get back to full mast after his orgasm.
“Yes. I would really like that, Harry.” You looked from Harry to Kit to make sure everyone was on board.
“I think you mean Daddy. Right?” Harry’s stern voice had you sitting up straight.
“Yes, Daddy. I want it.”
Kit softly moaned, “She’s such a sweet girl, Harry. Enjoy your blowie. Mind if I get some water? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
Harry kept his eyes on you, “Go on. We’ll be fine. Right, Y/n?”
You nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”
Kit paused and looked from you to her husband but then shook off the tiny alarm going off in her head before leaving you two alone.
“Get down here. On your knees. I’ll take it easy on you.”
You climbed off the bed and got to your knees. Harry pumped his dick right over your face and reached down with his free hand to grasp your neck to pull at you, making you sit up further, “Your pearls are so sweet. Did you dress up just for, Daddy?”
“I did. Wanted to be cute for you.” You smiled at him with wide eyes.
“Cutest thing I’ve ever seen, Y/n. Now, get it all wet. Lick all around. I want to get nice and hard for your throat. And maybe if Kitty doesn’t mind, she’ll let me fuck you. Would you like that?”
Your heart pounded as you looked up at Harry and nodded, “Yes, Daddy. Really want to feel you.”
You began to tongue along Harry's long shaft. From the base where he had trimmed dark hair to his tip. You plopped your lips around his crown and gently sucked, making him hiss before you dragged your tongue down to his base and back up again to wet every inch of his girth. You were amazed at the sounds coming from him. Soft and whimpery. You lowered your mouth to his sack and smoothed your tongue and lips along the skin before opening wide and pulling half into your mouth.
“Fucking angel. Shit, I love that.”
You noted his reaction to your mouth on his balls. To save for another day.
When you drew your tongue upward again, along his length you felt him plump. His cock grew harder and harder until he was rigid and completely ready for fucking again.
“Now suck on it,” he pressed the back of your head to urge you down over him.
You wrapped your lips around his head, saliva pooling at your tongue and dripping down his cock as you slowly began to take him in your mouth. Deeper and deeper. He was thick, though and you were concerned your mouth wasn’t big enough or that your teeth would graze his skin. But you pressed on, doing your very best.
He kept his hand at the back of your head and helped gently guide you down, “Come on. You can get a little more in there, baby. Fucking so good with that mouth.”
You felt his tip nudging at the roof of your mouth and slip in close to your tonsils and you gurgled, swallowing around his tip and making him choke out a loud moan.
You did it again, loving the way he responded and you felt him slip in deeper, yet you still hadn’t gotten him all in. He was likely a bit too long for you to take him all. You’d need practice.
The sound of you gagging wetly and Harry groaning filled the room as your eyes watered.
“Jesus Christ, Y/n!” Harry watched your lips as they parted around his cock, drooling down your chin.
You could hear Kit when she came back. She’d said something but you were so fixated on Harry’s cock and making him feel good that your brain was fuzzy and out of focus. The only thing that mattered was making Harry feel good and you couldn’t care about anything else.
The grip he had on the back of your head and the way his hips were moving felt like he was enjoying you as you wetly spluttered on his cock as it grazed the back of your throat.
When Harry pulled you off you sat back and looked up at him expectantly. Harry kept his eyes on you. He looked like he was proud of you as he spoke, “Kitty? Can I fuck this sweet thing? Want to feel to her around my cock.”
You watched Harry as Kit answered, “Okay. I think that sounds hot. Just use a condom, though. Is that okay with you, Y/n?”
You nodded, still focused on Harry, “Yes.”
Kit led you to the bed to lie on your back and kissed you softly, “I’ll play with you a little and probably kiss Harry too while he’s fucking you. Is that okay?”
You finally looked at Kit, breaking the spell you were under with Harry, “That’s fine. Yeah.” You nodded.
“And if we do this again maybe I can wear a strap-on and fuck you too.” Kit raised her brows.
You nodded and smiled. Harry was busy putting a condom on as he listened to his wife talking to you. He hated to admit it to himself, but he loved it when Kit stepped out of the room for a bit. He felt freer to express himself with her gone. Was less worried about sounding like he was preferring Y/n to her.
But he wondered if once he got his cock inside of you how he’d feel. Would he be able to overcome the way he wanted to just dominate you and claim you for himself? It was a slippery slope what was happening but he was freefalling into his dominant persona with you and it felt odd having his wife watch it all. He hoped he didn’t get too into it and lose track of what was really happening.
Harry crawled onto the bed between your legs and thumbed at your clit as he watched Kit kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. Wanted to start off nicely with a warm kiss and push into you that way. So he waited while his wife groped your tits and licked into your mouth.
You reached down to Harry’s hand, where his thumb was at your bud and you bucked your hips upward. He had the most gorgeous view of your wet pussy, just waiting and ready to stretch open for his cock.
When Kit finally pulled her mouth away Harry leaned over you, “I’m gonna kiss her for a bit, Kit. If you don’t mind,” and then he pasted his mouth against yours and lined his cock up with your entrance.
When you felt him push past your tight muscle you could have cried. He was wide and long and you were so wet and he began to thrust in and slowly, his mouth devouring yours. He went in with long strokes, sinking in until he couldn’t push in any further. His muscles working into you, thighs and bottom and back flexing and indulging.
Harry lifted his face from yours to look down at you, cupping your jaw, “You doing okay?”
Your mouth was wide open as you nodded, “So good, Daddy.”
Harry cooed at you as he began to fuck into you harder, making your tits wobble with the force.
Kit leaned over you and began to kiss you again but you could hardly kiss back with the way your pussy was being pounded into and the sound of Harry’s groans were all you could focus on. He liked your pussy, you could tell. And that had your heart singing and your body buzzing.
He loved how your pussy looked wrapped around his cock, tight and juicy as he pushed in and brought himself back to the tip before ramming into you again. He wanted Kit out of the way so he could see your face but he knew he couldn’t ask her to move. She was going to be part of this.
But when he dipped in especially deep, the puffy head of his cock nudging into your cervix and hitting your g-spot with each stroke you gasped and moaned loudly, making Kit move back.
“Daddy!” You howled as Harry panted and repeated what he’d just done. You squealed and threw your head back. It felt so good. He was pushing into your guts and breathing heavily over you.
Harry was glad he’d already come so he could last a bit longer with you. He wanted to drag it out. Really get to fuck you properly and feel you. It was lush being inside of you and hearing your pretty voice respond to him.
“Like Daddy’s cock, baby?” He spoke between gritted teeth as he pushed your thighs into your chest and leaned over you, nearly folding you in half so Kit couldn’t interrupt again. He was getting hot and dizzy for you. Wanted you all to himself.
“It’s the best! Oh fuck!! I love it. I want it… oooh! Need you so bad, Daddy!” You weren’t really sure what words came from your mouth as he pushed into you at the new angle, but all you knew was that your entire world was Harry. Harry… Harry… Harry… He was on you and in and he liked it. You were making him feel good.
“Need me, baby? Need this cock inside your little pussy?”
Harry’s balls were aching as he nudged into you, his sac pressed into your bum each time he bottomed out.
“Yes…” your voice was shaky and breathy as he railed you into the mattress.
Harry let go of your legs to lean over you and press his mouth against yours once again. Wet and hard, teeth scraping and moans of debauchery.
“Need you too, baby. Needed this fucking pussy. You gonna let Daddy own this pussy, baby?”
“Oh god, yes Daddy! This pussy is yours!” You whined.
Kit was at the edge of the bed watching the spectacle and she was quite turned on by the scene. She gently rubbed her pussy as she watched her husband railing you but the words spoken between you and Harry had her feeling a bit weird. She knew she should call a time out but she wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. You were in throws of passion, she tried to reason.
“Holy shit, Y/n!” Harry moaned as he felt you begin to squeeze around him. His pelvis rubbed into your clit and the little sparkles of your orgasm started to grow and grow with each yummy thrust into your clenching walls. His cock spread you wide and his pelvis smeared into your bud as if his body was made for you. The angle was exquisite. Harry thought so too.
“Coming on Daddy’s cock, Y/n? Fucking creaming all over me baby.” He let his strokes go long and deep and languid as he hovered over you, his arms and back flexing as he rolled into you.
You were stunned and unable to speak for moments on end. Your vision went blank and your ears fuzzed out with a ringing white noise that blocked all sound.
Harry moaned a laugh at how hard you were coming, “Feels good doesn’t it baby? Cock is made for you…” his deep thick voice gave away that he was about to come. Kit recognized it.
“Don’t come inside of her. Even with a condom,” Kit sat up and watched closely as you finally gasped and cried out. For some reason the idea of her husband coming, even if inside a condom, while balls deep in another woman didn’t feel right.
Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He wished he would have known before but of course, Kit hadn’t even been sure that was something she didn’t want.
He kept working into you, letting you ride out your orgasm as you moaned and babbled Daddy, yes Daddy over and over again.
When your eyes finally peeled open Harry had slowed his thrusts and he dipped down to kiss you. It was messy and wet. He was on edge, his orgasm so close his balls were vibrating.
He looked down at you and thumbed over your cheek, “Flip over for Daddy. Gonna fuck you from behind and come on your back okay?”
You moaned and nodded as Harry pulled out and watched you lay on your tummy, ass nudged up.
Harry looked at Kit, “Not gonna come inside her. Don’t worry.”
He smoothed his hands over your ass and squeezed, parting your cheeks as he lifted your hips slightly to angle you up for his cock.
Harry pressed back into you, both of you sighing in relief, “Thank you, Daddy…” you mumbled into the comforter.
“Rub your pussy for, Daddy. Want you to feel good, baby.”
You did as he said, reaching your hand down between your body and the mattress as you fingered over your clit and Harry’s loud grunts were timed with each of his strokes into you.
His hips were slapping into your bottom and the tightness of your cunt around him and the view of your pretty anus was like fine art. It was slushy and wet.
You pushed back against him and felt saliva stream out of your mouth onto the bed below.
“Want your come, Daddy,” you quickly slicked your fingers back and forth along your clit as Harry’s masculine moans grew deeper and louder as he neared his end. “Please, Daddy!”
Harry watched his cock disappear into you over and over again, “Want my come, baby? Deep inside your cunt? Want to be stuffed with it?”
You nodded into the mattress, “Yes…” you whined.
“Sounds so fucking good,” Harry cooed as he began to tremble. His arms grew wobbly as his balls tightened. His cock twitched and pulsed and he quickly pulled out, ripping his condom off before spurts of his come started to pump from his dick. He wrapped his fist around himself and milked his shaft, pouring all over your back as he used his free hand to keep your cheeks spread apart. In a daring move, he released the last bit of himself over your ass and pussy as he loudly choked out a moan.
With his chest heaving and your ass swaying back toward him in hopes of him pushing his come inside of you the voice of Kit pulled you from your dreamy haze.
“Get up.” She did not sound as happy as she had been not long before.
Harry removed himself from your body and you pushed yourself up and turned to look at them.
“That’s not what I meant when I said don’t come in her. Coming on her back was okay but then on her pussy like that? You should have asked me first.”
Harry looked at you with his come all over you and back to his wife, “Sorry, Kit. It was all just in the moment. I shouldn’t have come on her like that.”
“I just… I don’t know. We need to talk about this more I think. But not with her here.” She gestured to you.
You were sort of stuck with your ass in the air, unable to move much because of Harry’s come on your back.
“Okay. That’s fine. We’ll talk. Let me clean her up,” Harry pointed at you.
“She can clean herself up. We don’t need to baby her, Harry.”
“Come on, Kit. She deserves to be treated nicely. And it’s on her back. She needs help.”
Kit suddenly walked away and Harry leaned onto the bed to look at you, “Are you okay?” He put his hand on the back of your thigh.
“Yeah. I’m okay. I didn’t mean to make her mad.”
Harry looked over his shoulder and back at you, “She’s not mad, sweetheart. This is all new for us so she just needs a minute. I’ll be right back with a towel okay?”
You felt a burning embarrassment slither down your spine at the idea that Kit didn’t like something you’d done. It was exactly that thing you had wanted to avoid. You loved being with Harry and Kit but you knew you let yourself get lost with Harry and you went too far. You’d fucked everything up and now you were surely going to lose your job and Kit would hate you forever.
Harry got back onto the bed with you and gently wiped at your back, “Don’t worry about anything. You did nothing wrong, Y/n. Okay?”
You nodded and kept your eyes cast down over the comforter in shame. Nothing felt good anymore. You were humiliated. And even though Harry said you’d done nothing wrong it didn’t feel that way.
You put your clothes on silently as Harry slid on his pants and Kit returned, “I want her to go home.”
Harry stood quietly as he looked at Kit in her robe. You let your sight flit between Harry and his wife and noticed the way Harry looked like he was fuming. Pissed.
“Absolutely not. We invited her to stay. She didn’t do anything wrong, Kit. What is wrong with you?”
“I want to talk and I don’t think I can do it with her anywhere near me.”
“Why are you talking about her like she’s not standing right here?” He gestured at you.
Kit sighed and looked down, “I don’t feel comfortable, Harry.”
A scoff fell from his lips, “Well geez. Just imagine how she feels.”
Kit looked at Harry with a scrunched brow, “Are her feelings somehow more important than your own wife’s right now?”
Harry shook his head and ran his hands over his face, “I’m not saying that. I’m saying hers are just as important as yours. She’s a human, Kit. Fuck.”
Kit left the room again, stomping as she walked into the hallway.
Harry turned and stepped in front of you, taking your hands in his, “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t know she would act this way. I’ll get the guest room set for you but you can’t drive after all that wine we drank and I’m not letting you take an Uber home alone at this hour.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I’ve never had any bad experiences with Uber drivers-“
“No fucking way I’m allowing it. You’re staying here and that’s final.”
Harry walked out of the bedroom and you plucked up your bra and panties that were lying on the floor and followed him to the guest room.
But you stopped before you went inside when you heard him and Kit arguing quietly.
“That was too intimate, Harry. Her asking for your come and you saying how good that sounded. Saying your cock is made for her? Fuck.”
“Kit, we were having sex. I can hardly remember what things were said to be honest. I was caught up in the moment.”
“I shouldn’t have let you fuck her.”
“Maybe not, but it’s done. Too late to take it back now. Jesus.”
“I don’t want her here. Now all I can think about is the way you two were just ignoring me and enjoying each other. I was completely left out there at the end.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”
Kit sighed, “Me too. I feel disgusted. You should sleep on the couch tonight.”
“Come on, Kit. Don’t be like this. You know we were all just having fun.”
Kit walked out of the bedroom and stopped when she saw you. The look she gave you told you to keep your mouth closed and move out of her way. It felt like a threat. A warning.
You stood silently in the hallway as Harry made up your bed and you felt tears stream down your face. Kit suddenly walked up to you and handed you your bag roughly before walking back to her bedroom and closing the door behind her.
Harry peeked out of the room and saw you standing with your bag in your arms and tears in your eyes.
His heart dropped as he pulled you into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around you, one hand cradling the back of your head as he shushed you, “Don’t let her get to you, baby. Please don’t cry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
You gulped and the softness of Harry with his arms around you made you cry harder. You tried to stop your tears but everything had really just made you so overly emotional. You’d gone from ecstasy straight to shame and humiliation.
He rocked you gently back and forth and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t even get to love on you after. I’m so sorry. I wanted to make it so special for you and it was ruined. Please don’t be upset. I’ll make sure Kit’s okay by the morning, okay sweetheart?” Harry held you out in. his arms and looked at you. He thumbed at the tears under your eye and you blinked up at him.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed your forehead.
Leading you to the bed he pulled the blankets down and patted at the mattress, “I’d help you change into your night clothes but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to do that right now. Are you gonna be okay in here? The bathroom is right there,” he pointed at the ensuite guest bathroom. “Towels are in the closet. I’m gonna go and talk to Kit and see if I can calm her down. Text me if you need anything. Okay?”
You nodded with a pout. You were doing your best to hold your stupid tears in as Harry hugged you again and then stopped at the doorway and turned to smile at you sheepishly before closing the door and leaving you cold and alone and shattered.
Part 3
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certified-bi · 11 days
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Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.
1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...
2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.
Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.
3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.
4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.
5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.
Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.
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rogueddie · 5 months
Text
Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.
His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.
But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.
It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.
Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.
It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.
He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.
But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.
He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.
"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"
"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."
They laugh, quickly moving on.
After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.
He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.
They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.
"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."
"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."
"It's ugly."
"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."
"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."
"No, it's not. It's special to me."
"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"
"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."
"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."
"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."
"If- what?"
"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"
"You've lost me."
Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.
"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"
"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"
"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."
Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"
"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."
"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."
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copperbadge · 1 year
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Hey Sam! Since it's currently AO3 donation time, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on it? I'm asking because you've written RPF and it's one of many "anti-AO3/anti-AO3 donations" people's favourite things to bring up when they're complaining about AO3 getting so many donations that it continuously obtains an excess of its donation goal whenever donation time rolls around? (Wow, how many times can I say "donation" in an ask?) Sorry if this question bothers you! I don't mean to offend or annoy.
Hey anon! Sorry it took a while to get to this, I don't even know if the drive is still going on, but the question came in while I was traveling and I didn't really have the time for stuff that wasn't travel-related. In any case, let's dig in! (I am not offended, no worries.)
So really there are two issues here and as much as some people who are critical of AO3 want to conflate them, they are different. While some criticism of AO3 may be valid, rhetoric against AO3 tends to misinterpret both in separate ways.
First there's the issue of what AO3 hosts -- RPF, yes, but more broadly, varied content that some people find distasteful or think should be illegal, which is a misunderstanding of the purpose of the archive and more broadly a dangerous attitude towards the concept of freedom of expression.
Second, there's the issue of AO3 generally outpacing its fundraising goals while not allowing monetization, which is a misunderstanding of the legal status of AO3 and to an extent a misunderstanding of philanthropy as a whole.
The longer I watch debates about content go on, the more I come to the conclusion that I was fortunate to have a teacher who really wanted to instill in us an understanding of free speech not as a policy but as an ongoing dialogue. It's not only that freedom of expression "protects you from the government, not the Justin" as the meme goes, but also that freedom of expression is not a static thing. It's an ongoing process of identifying what we find harmful in society and what we want to do about it.
Should the freedom to shout "Fire!" in a crowded theater be restricted? Should the freedom to yell slurs at drag performers? Should the freedom to teach prepubescent kids about gender, sexuality, and/or safe sex? Should the freedom to wear a leather puppy hood at Pride? Who gets to say, and why?
I was nine when my teacher did a unit on freedom of speech and the intersection of "harm prevention" and "censorship", which is (and should be) a discussion, not a set of ironclad rules. This ambiguity has thus been with me for over thirty years, and I'm comfortable with the ambiguity, with the process; I'm not sure a lot of people critical of AO3's content truly are. Perhaps some can't be, especially those affected by hate speech, but RPF is not hate speech. It's just fiction. Or is fiction "just fiction"? This is a question society as a whole is grappling with, although fandom seems to be a little out ahead of society in terms of how explicitly we discuss it.
The idea that prose can incite violence or cause harm is both valid to examine (witness the rise of fascism on the radio in the 20s, on Facebook and Twitter in the past ten years; they're very similar processes) and a very slippery slope. Because again: who decides what harm is, and what causes it, and what we do about it? Our values align us with certain beliefs, but those are only our values, not universal truths. So AO3 is part of the ongoing question of harm and benefit both to society and individuals.
AO3 itself, however, has a fairly defined policy that it is not meant to police content; it is an archive, not a bookstore or a school board. AO3 refines its TOS and policies as necessary, but the goal is always open access and as much freedom of expression as possible, and if that's uncomfortable for some people then that's a discussion we have to have; ignoring it won't make it go away. But it has to be a discussion, it can't be a unilateral change to the archive's TOS or a series of snaps and clapbacks, and I don't see a lot of people ready to move beyond flinging insults. Perhaps because they were taught a much more binary view of freedom of expression than I was.
So, self-evidently, I support AO3 and I don't have a problem with RPF. Whether other people do is something we're going to have to get to grips with, and that's likely to be a process that is still going on when most of us are dust. I'd rather have a century of ambiguity than a wrong answer tomorrow, anyway.
But whether AO3 hosts RPF is truly a separate issue from its donation drives, because it's a criticism some people level at the site which exists whether it's fundraising or not. So people can criticize AO3's open policy and they can give it as a reason not to support the site, but it's just one aspect of the archive and the fundraising as a whole should be examined separately.
I think AO3's fundraisers are deeply misunderstood (sometimes on purpose) because even people who are anticapitalist get a little crazy when money gets involved, and this is, to fandom, a lot of money -- a few hundred thousand, reliably, every fundraiser. To me, a fundraiser that pulls in three hundred grand is almost quaint; my current nonprofit pulls in better than ten million a year and my previous employer had an endowment of several billion dollars. At my old job I didn't even bother researching people who couldn't give us a hundred grand.
On the other hand, AO3 is an extreme and astounding outlier in the nonprofit world, because basically it's the only one of its kind to work the way it does. It is entirely volunteer-run on the operational side (ie: tag wranglers, coders, lawyers, etc) and has no fundraising staff (gift officers, researchers, outreach officers) as far as I'm aware. To pull in three hundred grand from individual one-time donations, without any paid staff and without even a volunteer fundraising officer? That's insane. That doesn't happen. Except at AO3.
What people misunderstand, however, is the basic status of a nonprofit, which is a legal status, not simply a social one. (I'm adding in some corrections here since it gets complicated and the terminology can be important!) The Organization for Transformative Works, the parent of AO3, is a nonprofit, which indicates how it was incorporated as an organization; additionally it is registered federally as tax-exempt, which carries certain perks, like not paying sales tax, and certain duties, like making their financials transparent to a certain extent. (Religious nonprofits are exempt from the transparency requirement.) If you're interested in more about nonprofits and tax-exempt status a reader dropped a great article here.
Nonprofits, unlike for-profit companies, cannot pay a share of their income to stakeholders. Nonprofits don't have financial stakeholders, only donors. They can have employees and pay them a salary -- that's me, for example -- but if a nonprofit pulls in $10M in donations, my salary is paid from that, I don't get a percentage and nobody else does either. That's what it means to be a nonprofit -- the money above operational costs goes back into the organization. The donations we (and AO3) receive must be plowed under and used for outreach, server maintenance, further fundraising, services expansion, et cetera. You can see this in the 990 forms on Guidestar or ProPublica, or in their more accessible breakdowns on Charity Navigator. Nonprofits that do not put the majority of their income towards service provision tend to get audited and lose their nonprofit status. So nobody's getting paid from all that money, and the overage that isn't spent goes into what is basically a savings account in the name of the nonprofit. (I'm vastly simplifying but that's the gist.) Using that money for personal purposes is illegal. It's called "private inurement" and there's a good article here about it. The money belongs to the OTW as a concept, not to anyone in or of the OTW.
So the biggest misunderstanding that I see in people who are mad at AO3 fundraisers is that "they" are getting all this money (who "they" are is never clearly stated but I'm pretty sure people think @astolat has a special wifi router that runs on burning hundred dollar bills) while "we" can't monetize our fanfic. But "they" get nothing -- nobody even earns a salary from AO3 -- and you can easily prove that by looking at the 990 forms they file with the government, which are required to be made public. You can see the most recently available 990, from 2020, here at Guidestar. Page seven will show you the "highest compensated" employees, all of whom are earning zero dollars or nonmonetary perks (that's the three columns on the right).
Either AO3 is entirely volunteer-run or someone's Doing A Real Fraud. The money the OTW spends is documented (that's page 10 and 11 primarily) and while they may pay for, say, the travel and lodging expenses of a lawyer going to DC to defend a freedom-of-expression case, they don't pay the lawyer for their time, or give them a cut of the income.
Despite what you've read, the reason "we" can't monetize our fanfics on AO3 has nothing to do with the site being the product of volunteer handiwork or AO3 having it in their terms of service or it being considered gauche by some to do so; it's because
IT'S ILLEGAL.
I cannot say this loudly enough: It is against the law for a nonprofit to be used by its staff, volunteers, or beneficiaries to earn direct profit from the services provided by the nonprofit.
You can be paid to work at one, but you cannot side-hustle by selling your handmade friendship bracelets for personal gain on the nonprofit's website. If the nonprofit knowingly allows monetization of its services, it can lose nonprofit status, be fined, be hit with back taxes, and a lot of other unpleasant bullshit can go down, including prosecution of those involved for fraud. If you put a ko-fi link on your fanfic, you are breaking the law, and if AO3 allows it, they are too.
Okay, that was a sidebar, but in some ways not, because it gets to the heart of the real complaints about AO3 fundraising, which is that people in fandom are sick or unhoused or in some form of need and other people in fandom are giving to AO3, a fan site that is financially stable, instead of giving to peoples' gofundmes or dropping money in their Ko-Fi or Paypal. And while it is a legitimate grievance that there are people who are in such desperate need while we live in an era of unprecedented abundance, that's not AO3's fault. AO3 doesn't solicit actively, there's no unasked-for mailings or calls from a gift officer. They just put a banner up on their website, and people give. (Again, this is incredibly outlier behavior in the nonprofit world, I'd do a case study on it but the conclusion would just be "shit's real, yo.") You might as well be mad that people give to their local food bank instead of someone's ko-fi.
You cannot lay at AO3's feet the fact that people want to give to AO3 instead of to your fundraiser. That's a choice individuals have made, and while you can engage with them in terms of why they made the philanthropic choices they did, to blame an organization they supported rather than the person who made the choice to give is not only incorrect but futile, and unlikely to win anyone over to supporting you. We know from research that guilt is not a tremendous motivator of philanthropy.
It is also not necessarily a binary choice; just because AO3 gets a hundred grand in $5 donations doesn't mean most of the people giving don't also give $5 elsewhere. I support the OTW on occasion, and I also fundraise for UNICEF and the Chicago Parks Foundation and BAGLY and others, in addition to giving monthly to several nonprofits that I have longterm relationships with -- my alma mater, the animal rescue where I got the Cryptids, my shul. And I give, occasionally and anonymously, to fundraisers that pass through Radio Free Monday, which are mainly individuals in need, because I was once in need and now I pay it forward. These are the choices I have made. Nobody twisted my arm. I respond poorly to someone making the attempt to do so by attacking places I've given.
I think the upshot is, after all of this that I've written, that we cannot begin to come to grips with questions of institutional inequality in philanthropy, or freedom of expression and censorship, until people actually understand what's going on, and too few do. So all I can do is try and explain, and hopefully create a forum for people to learn and grow when it comes to charitable giving.
Archive Of Our Own and the Organization for Transformative Works are products of our community and as that community changes, we will necessarily continue to re-evaluate what aspects of it mean and how AO3/OTW express the community sentiment. I hope that the ongoing discussion of support for AO3 also leads to people learning more about their philanthropic options. But criticizing AO3 for fundraising by attacking it for fulfilling one of its stated purposes is silly, and attempting to guilt people into giving in the ways one thinks they should give rather than how they do give is just going to make one extremely unlikable.
As members of this community, we have to be a part of the push and pull, but it's difficult to do that competently in ignorance. So, I do my best to be knowledgeable and to educate my readers, and I hope others will do the same.
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4dbarbie-archive · 9 months
Text
4dbarbie remix: How to realise Self?
Disclaimer: This remix/mashup post was compiled by me, a student of 4dbarbie as a way to make sense of everything and to understand how to apply the knowledge practically. I went through all her posts and answered asks to make this which is made up of various parts of 25 49 (omg lol there was a lot of good stuff) different posts and answered asks. It is not an original post by 4dbarbie herself but all words are directly from her various posts and answered asks (except for my clarification notes which are in purple text in brackets & the last section after the last divider where I make some closing comments). Hopefully the way I've organised the information in this post makes sense and helps some Vanessas out there. ♡
Fair warning as this is a pretty long post essay (!) so maybe grab a cup of tea or something :) If you are really new to all this then take some time to really process it, there is no rush. My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.
May we all realize our Self ♡
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There would be no steps necessary, no process to undertake if you would just establish yourself in the I AM alone. You are so lost in your play you forget reality. 1 If you are "I AM", it means you are not the person experiencing the world/thoughts/circumstances, you never were. 2
The external world, you control it (because it is you!, in you), you make it, fully, even when you tell yourself you don't. 3 To know yourself as the source of all that is, you have to first remove the veil of what's stopping you from seeing it in the first place. To know your real being, you have to first abandon what you thought yourself to be. 4 There is no external life, there is no need to use any methods to recondition or train your mind. It is much faster, much easier and you are hundreds times happier just letting go of the mind. 5 The process is one of letting go more and more until you find yourself having nothing, being nothing. The thing about nothing though is that it's the only thing that can take the shape of everything. 6
A jeweler who wants to refashion an ornament, first melts it down to shapeless gold. Similarly, one must return to one's original state before a new name and form can emerge. The only way to renewal lies through destruction. You must melt down the old jewellery into formless gold before you can mold a new one. What refuses to die cannot be reborn. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 7
Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. By thinking you are it, you create a character who desires and then identify yourself with it. You can only have when you let go of thinking that you don't. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 9
Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. 10
You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person. 11
Unless they understand who they really are, that Vanessa is a habit and nothing more - that nothing has existence outside of awareness, including her, that awareness assigns reality and is the only reality - they're always going to struggle to control something and get frustrated they don't see what they think they're aware of. What you're aware of is what you're being. You can't be aware of being something new while also being Vanessa. 12
Knowing is being. If you really knew, the thing you knew would be materialized. You know you are Vanessa so you're being Vanessa. Would you want Vanessa if you were her? No. You are her so you don't desire her. And you won't be able to be Vanessa 2.0 if you don't shed this Vanessa first. That is, let go of thinking the thoughts are yours. 8
Your memories of the life Vanessa lived are now and not in a past. You are imagining her past being now. Her past exists now because you are aware of it now. If you were Lara you would be aware of a different past, still now. Basically there was no yesterday and you are imagining "a past having been" today. 13
Anon: "Do I have to endure the world while I know my self as awareness and disbelieve that I am Vanessa???" Ada: THE POINT OF KNOWING YOURSELF AS AWARENESS IS TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT AT ALL TIMES, FOREVER. It's complete, incomparable freedom and power. It's the only real love. 14
You are either your Self with nothing attached to it or you're an ego. Disbelieve you were ever her. See what happens. 41
A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 15 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)
HOW TO STOP?
The body and the mind are only symptoms of ignorance, of misapprehension. Behave as if you were pure awareness, bodiless and mindless, spaceless and timeless, beyond 'where' and 'when' and 'how'. Dwell on it, think of it, learn to accept its reality. Don't oppose it and deny it all the time. Keep an open mind at least. Make your mind and body express the real which is ALL and beyond all. By doing, you succeed. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj
You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 16 It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. As long as you give reality to dreams, you are their slave; see all as a dream and stay out of it. 17
You imagine that there is an external world in which the you that you're identified with lives, but all of that is in your mind. Stop imagining it's true and it dissolves, which can only mean it never was. Which can only mean you assigned reality to it by thinking you're it 18
I've said it before, you don't have to convince Vanessa that she's unreal. Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go... you're holding so tightly onto your ideas now, that's why you can't see their falsity. 19 You don't have to convince anyone of anything. What I teach here is to leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 2 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 32 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference. We've established you aren't the ego, alright? Thoughts, right now, are from the ego. 20
Thoughts of the past life come, remember they no longer have anything to do with you. Literal full delusion (I only call it that because after being identified with a person for so long, it's mind-blowing to grasp you are not that). Thoughts are not yours, complete indifference - no need to fight them. Where they come from, none of your business. Only know they are not yours. YOU not being in your desired reality is a thought, got it? This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 21
You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 20
Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens, you won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 22
What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 23
Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can review this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. 14
Do not try to understand any more, just be. And let other things be as they are. Even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. 14
If you are angry or in pain, separate yourself from anger and pain and watch them. Step away and look. The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master. 24
One thing is certain: the real is not imaginary, it is not a product of the mind. 23
You are beyond the mind. Mind and body become your servants once you discover your Self. The present moment is all that is, so yes - become aware of having never been the ego, of your ego being just one of your creations. Ego is the concept of individuality, of separation from the “I", and the All. Therefore ego is a false assumption. We are really the Supreme Reality, we are not separate from It. To "fix" the separation, reject what you are not. Only look at who you are, over and over and over until it becomes the permanent identification and replaces the ego. 25
Once you are convinced that you cannot say truthfully about your self anything except ‘I am’, and that nothing that can be pointed at, can be your self, the need for the ‘I am’ is over — you are no longer intent on verbalising what you are. All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 23
Drop the false ideas first and watch. After what keeps you stuck goes, you can do whatever you want. You can think the ugliest thoughts and nothing will happen if you know yourself as who you are. It's your identification with the thought that causes the thought to be true. 26
The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 27
She (Vanessa) will vanish yes, you ask how because you still think waking is more real than a dream. Do your dreams not vanish? Do you wonder how they vanish? They just stop existing all of a sudden when you go into another dream (waking). What if you've lived all your life as Ada and woke up one morning and were suddenly Vanessa with no memory of Ada, would you know anybody vanished? Nope. All you know is who you are right now (because present is all that is), which is Vanessa. 28 Leave poor Vanessa alone, with both her desires and fears, disbelieve you are her until reality becomes self-obvious.
By being your Self you gain the freedom of existing as anything, anytime. You don't lose Vanessa's pretty body if you don't want to stop imagining yourself as being Vanessa with her pretty body. 29
Nothing is lost, awareness just shifts. You can always go back. We're just removing the obstacles that stop you from having this freedom of choice (your identification with this person). You can completely wipe out Vanessa's existence as well. Later if you change your mind, you can make it so that she actually existed again. You are no form, you are formless, the form only is when you imagine there is a form, be your favorite form and dream beautiful dreams :) 30
There is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. Become aware of this and life will forever be a breeze. 31
All depends on you. It is by your consent that the world exists. Withdraw your belief in its reality and it will dissolve like a dream. Cease from looking for happiness and reality in a dream and you will wake up. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 17
Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 16
Past doesn't come up anymore, memories don't come up anymore after you've ignored (thoughts) & detached yourself enough. They just don't. You can think freely now about being something different. If you can't, don't get mad, don't blame, only know that the one that's doubting isn't you, so the doubts are totally fine to be. They'll be for a while and then they dissolve too, because by ignoring, not getting involved - you forget. And by forgetting not only do you free up so much mental space, but possibilities of what can be, become unnumbered. 36 Anon: Is it okay to feel completely indifferent after learning about this stuff? Like, not feeling as worried about what is playing in front of me since I know its not me Ada: That's the goal. Then become indifferent to the thoughts you get as well. Those aren't yours either. You'll become aware they've dissolved & you can reconstruct the mind however you want because you have no attachment to past beliefs anymore. 33
Even the process is very beautiful... but the very best is when your Self becomes the permanent background instead of Vanessa. Now you always return to Vanessa, later you'll forget to consider her ♡ Dream not of a character who wants and desires, there is nothing to long for — only things to be. 16
To not depend on anything but everything to depend on you is a top state you can grasp with no method. 5 The experience is of being empty, uncluttered by memories and expectations; it is like the happiness of open spaces, of being young, of having all the time and energy for doing things, for discovery, for adventure. A sense of 'there is nothing wrong with me. I have nothing to worry about'. But not one you condition yourself into like you conditioned yourself into a body, it is one that naturally and effortlessly dawns on you by itself when you reject all else, because it is your natural state. 34 Real freedom and real love only emerge when you're not identified with a transient ego. 35
All you are doing is becoming lucid. Becoming able to control the dream. You won't be able to, unless you step out of it. That is, stop thinking this story you tell yourself is true. When Vanessa is no longer all you are, you'll be able to 'change reality' the way you change the film in a video projector. You'll be able to have as much fun in the play as you want to, change it when you no longer want this one specifically. The emotions of the character are fun and welcomed, because they no longer imprison you, there's the background of love to it all - that once you gain, it can't be lost, it's ever present. 36
What you are identified with materializes. If you are not, it disappears. 37
Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 38
Only by letting go of all do you gain everything. But once it's done, it's done irreversibly. Fear is no more, control is fully yours. You are free, completely. And with the bliss of freedom no human pleasure compares. You become full love, full power. The absolute and only power. Sooner or later, you will arrive at the same conclusion. You can't stop being what you are, all else can stop existing, but you can't. The only thing you have a choice in is delaying seeing it by thinking you are this or that. Only see it (I Am), then you can imagine whatever you want and it will be. 39
If you project the world, it is within your power to change it. But you must stop identifying yourself with it first. Go beyond, then you have all the power to destroy and recreate. All everybody wants is to be free, but to do that you must know two things: what you are to be free from and what keeps you bound. 2
Your own self is your ultimate teacher, the outer teacher is merely a milestone. It is only your inner teacher that will walk with you to the goal, because he is the goal. - Nisargadatta Maharaj 40
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Got more questions? Recommended reading:
Ada's recommended guides on realizing Self: 1, 2, 3
My recommended posts from Ada*: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
All references from the remix post
Books: I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj** and Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson
*in addition to the sources linked in the post **a lot of her posts incorporate quotes and excerpts from this book, moreso than Lester Levenson's Keys to The Ultimate Freedom and she also shared a lot of excerpts from the book
What does this look like when applied?
Experience is the best teacher and learning from other's experiences and how they applied this knowledge can be really valuable and insightful. I don't define success based on materialising things necessarily although that is one result of realizing Self.
From 4dbarbie students: see the tag
Other: 1, 2
Okay, what to do after reading all this?
Apply apply apply. Don't wait, nothing will happen by waiting. There is only now. Inquire who is causing trouble and to whom. You can't think yourself into realization. 'You' are beyond the mind. You are the creator of the mind. It must be experienced.
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sparrow-ceiling · 3 months
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LUCIFER IN EPISODE 8 POST
because i want to squeeze him like a rubber duck (I WROTE DICK HELP)
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OK FIRST CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE PARALLEL TO THE TRUST FALLS WHEN HE CATCHES CHARLIE (TWICE)!!??? Like she trusts him. They love each other. They're gonna be ok. Charlie never set out to do this but in saving all those other people she also saved herself and her dad and i love her for that. Also I just realized they have the same little cheek circles its so cute <3
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(help why does Charlie look like Candace Flynn In the first pic-) LOOK at him hes such a short king. He's trying to hide it with that silly little hate but he's fooling exactly nobody.
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"I'm going to FUCK you." HES SUCH A DAD LMAO he really thought he ate that one. Also its so silly how his hair part switches sides all the time I love him for that. ((Also did anybody else notice that when Charlie pops in she has her hair tied up and stuff but before and after she's like. disheveled/bloody etc. Probably just a mistake but still interesting.))
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ALSO HIS WHOLE FIGHT WITH ADAM IS SO FUNNY why is he so unserious about everything LMAOO. Also bonus look at his slutty little eyeshadow in the first pic (also most of these pictures but its so silly I love it. Also probably necessary to keep the design from being monochromatic) He really gives so few shits about Adam and just beats the hell out of him it's hilarious (honestly giving Alastor-Vox dynamic a little bit but I may be reading into things too much)
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ALSO THE DYNAMIC DUO!! They really destroyed that fucker so hard together. PLUS get you a dad that looks at you the way Lucifer looks at Charlie.
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ALSO HES SO FUNNY HERE. Hes so fucking confused. And concerned hes just like uhhhh. Awkward wet cat of a man!!!
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ALSO THIS IS SO FUNNY LIKE READ THE ROOM MAN. Your daughter and her friends are soaked in blood and you're out here asking who wants to have pancakes (I mean fair enough though. I could use a good pancake after slaughtering angels honestly). But the contrast between them is so funny.
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AND LOOK AT HIM HES SO SWEET TRYING TO CHEER UP HIS DAUGHTER. WE LOVE A KIND MAN!!! (Also i just realized he only has four fingers)
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Also girl what are these fruity ass stances chill out bro
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AND HE TAKES HIS HAT OFF TO SALUTE SIR PENTIOUS AWWW. Hes so genuine about it too <33333
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ALSO HIS REACTION WHEN ALASTOR SHOWS UP LMAO. The SASS, he hates that guy so much kdhsjksf
Anyway that concludes my rant about lucifer i love him so fucking much!!
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zaynesevol · 3 months
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Hiii !!
I really love your writings and i was wondering if i could request something :3? Zayne is sick and he's hiding it because he doesn't want to anyone to know and since he's a doctor, he thinks he can treat himself. But of course mc sees whats happening and they're taking care of zayne! Take your time if you accept this one :33 but its okay if you dont !
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𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊-𝐔𝐏!
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you taking care of a sick zayne !
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, zayne’s embarrassed about being sick, reader feels like they did something wrong, you end up taking care of zayne
𝐀/𝐍: this was such a cute request omg
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lately, you’ve noticed that zayne has becoming a little distant. it makes you wonder, did i do something wrong?
i mean, who can blame you? whenever he doesn’t go to work he stays cooped up in his bedroom. for when he does, he’s instantly rushing to get out of your sight. it’s almost like he’s hiding something from you, but you don’t know what.
today, you’re determined to figure out what’s going on. you’re not letting him sneak away so easily this time.
you sit down on the couch awaiting his arrival. as soon as he comes home, you’re sure he’s just going to mutter a quick hi and dash to the bedroom.
over the past few days you’ve been a bit stressed about what’s going on. so, you tried a few searches but nothing seems to give you an answer.
why is my boyfriend ignoring me?
how to tell if your boyfriend is mad at you
reasons your boyfriend may be ignoring you
groaning as you shut your phone off, you hear the sound of his keys inserting into the lock and twisting. you shoot up from the couch, prepared to start interrogating the man.
when he enters the house, his immediately starts taking off his glasses, hanging his coat on the rack. he doesn’t even seem to notice the intense stare you’re giving him.
when he turns around, he jumps slightly. he wasn’t expecting you to be so close to him. now he sees you are, he grows a bit panicked. and you can tell he is.
“what’s going on with you?” you question, eyebrows furrowing with your crossed arms waiting for a response.
he chuckles, shaking his head. “there is nothing wrong, y/n. now, i really need to get to the room. there’s things i have to do.”
there it is. he’s trying to escape from you, again. you know damn well he doesn’t have to do anything, he’s just trying to get away from you!
“no you don’t! tell me now, why have you been avoiding me? is there something wrong? did i do something to upset you?” you’re throwing millions of questions at him at a time, and he only has the mental capacity to answer one.
“no, you didn’t do anything wrong. i just really need to go.” he replies, trying to head off before you grab his arm.
“please, if i did something just tell me. i’ve been worried sick about what’s going on, and you won’t let me know.”
he sighs, seeing your clear upset expression. he doesn’t want you feeling this way, but, he also wants to avoid any embarrassment from what he’s about to admit.
“fine. i’m…sick.” he admits, closing his eyes nervously so he can avoid seeing whatever type of reaction you have.
you can only gasp. there’s no way he was trying to hide the fact he was sick, you can only think, why?
“seriously? why didn’t you tell me? is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“i didn’t want to take the risk of getting you ill. the reason why i’ve been going to work less is because i’m actually going to appointments. i’m a doctor myself, so i was a bit humiliated to tell you about what i was feeling.” he admits, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“and for the reason you refuse to come out of your room?” you ask, demanding an answer.
“to be honest, i thought i’d be able to take care of myself.”
you instantly throw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest as you look up at him. “don’t ever do that again. okay? i’ll take care of you. no matter what happens.” you state, dragging him to your bedroom.
“that won’t be necessary. believe me, i don’t want you to waste any time trying to tend to someone who was too careless on avoiding getting sick.”
“and believe me, i won’t be leaving you alone like this anytime soon.” you retort, laying him down on the bed.
you bring out your phone, searching up, how do i take care of my sick boyfriend?
seeing the results, you immediately snatch the pillows from under his head and start fluffing them. he watches you with amusement, not understanding what you’re trying to accomplish, but he appreciates it.
“do you feel hot or cold?” you ask, needing this information to take on your next steps of helping him feel comfortable.
“cold.” hearing his answer, you immediately rush downstairs, preparing him some water and heating up something warm to place below his feet in order to warm him up.
after what seems to be around fifteen minutes, he hears your feet rushing upstairs to the room. he chuckles, wondering what type of mischief you caused while being downstairs.
when you open the door, he sees you cooked him his favorite meal along with numerous warm items to help him stay toasty.
“y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” he softly mutters, watching you prepare everything to help him recover.
“yes i did! it says this may help you recover fast!” he can only smile at your determination, feeling incredibly lucky on how he was able to fall in love with you before anyone else.
after a few minutes, he’s sighing in content.
“everything feels great. unfortunately, there’s only one thing i don’t have that would certainly help me get better way faster.” you perk up, wondering what crucial thing zayne needs in order to make him feel better.
“what is it?”
“you next to me.” hearing his answer, you giggle, sliding into the bed right next to him, laying your head on his chest as he sticks an arm around you.
“you do realize you have a high chance of catching what i have, right?”
“yeah, but it’ll be worth it. as long as you’re here with me.”
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phoen1xr0se · 7 months
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Nothing Lasts Forever - META
It's just really struck me how utterly bizarre the line "nothing lasts forever" is, considering that it comes out of THIS GUY'S mouth:
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Don't get me wrong, this line has never sat right with me, it felt oddly placed and off - almost everything else he says and does in that scene could potentially be keeping in character with who he is, his arc, his trauma... but not this.
Why?
I mean, we're talking about Aziraphale here!
The one who literally collects ancient first editions and preserves them...
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The one who wears old, worn clothes because they're comfortable and he likes them...
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The one who almost killed a little kid because he wanted the Earth to carry on just a little bit longer...
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The one who has desperately fought to keep his demon alive and away from the threat of Hell by any means necessary.
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These are not the actions of someone who believes nothing lasts. He has spent his existence protecting the things he wants to last, often going to extraordinary measures, even going against his own moral code, consistently showing that he does, in fact, want it all to last forever.
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So why say it?
The only explanation that makes sense to me is Aziraphale is trying to wave a warning flag in front of Crowley's face. Hes saying: "You know me, I know you do, you know me better than anyone and you know I would never say this."
The old "if you ever hear me say these words, you know I'm in mortal peril" bit.
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The only problem with this, of course, is that Crowley has just confessed - all the things Aziraphale never ever thought he would hear him say, at least not yet, and not so openly... and it's the wrong timing, the worst timing ever, because Crowley is too wrapped up in his own emotion that he can't see what Aziraphale is too scared to say overtly (lots of sideways glances to Metatron just outside the window).
Aziraphale is waving great big "I am not okay help me!!" signs at him, saying all the things he would never say - "you're the bad guys" and "you can be my second in command" and "just like the old times"... and the big one, "I forgive you" instead of the "I love you" they both know it should have been.
The worst part is that Aziraphale expects Crowley to pick up on his signals, and is so hurt and frustrated when he doesn't... not just because it means he is putting his life at risk but because maybe Crowley doesn't know him after all. Maybe they aren't what he thought they were.
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But can I leave this on a happy(ish) note?
With this in mind, I'd like to bring you back to the final scene with 'A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square' - most people believe that either Crowley queued it up to take Aziraphale to the Ritz, or the Bentley did it...
But if all the above is true, and Aziraphale has been desperately trying to get Crowley to see his coded messages, I humbly submit the theory that it was actually Aziraphale who set up the song to play.
One last attempt to show Crowley what he couldn't risk saying out loud.
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Let's hope he got the message.
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andmaybegayer · 8 months
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For a different project I was reading about developments in induction heating technologies and realized I had a small misunderstanding about how induction stoves work.
So, the classic misunderstanding is in why steel works on an induction hob but aluminium doesn't. Most people assume this is because you need a magnetic material in order to induce a current, but if you know your physics you know this isn't true. You can induce a current in any conductor, and indeed inducing currents in aluminium is something that happens in industry all the time.
So then you get to my understanding of why you can't use aluminium and copper, which is that they're too good at conducting electricity. Induction generates a voltage that pushes a current through the material. Aluminium and copper are much better conductors than steel, so the generated potential is lower and the overall current is lower as a result of material interactions with the field, so you don't get nearly as much heat out of induction on aluminium as on steel. This was what I thought. This is also wrong, although it's closer.
The actual answer is one step deeper. Induction hobs have to operate at pretty high frequencies, usually 24-ish kHz, both for audible noise reasons and, crucially, because they rely heavily on the skin effect. Interestingly this makes that first wrong explanation kind of more correct, I'll get to that in a moment.
The skin effect is a thing that happens when you have an alternating current in a bulk material; the AC signal sets up magnetic fields that force current to flow in a thin layer closer to the surface of the solid rather than flowing evenly throughout the material. This increases the effective resistance of the material, since you end up with a reduced effective surface area through which current can flow. The skin effect gets more pronounced at higher frequencies, and it's part of why you'll see bundles of smaller cables used to conduct high power AC: each cable has its own skin that can carry more current than the same quantity of material in one bulk cable.
In the right kinds of steel and iron, 24kHz is enough to generate a current carrying skin only a few tenths of a millimeter thick, which has a high enough resistance to generate the heat needed for cooking. Ferromagnetic materials have very high magnetic permeability, which causes them to experience much stronger skin effects. Copper and aluminium, between their high conductivity and lower magnetic permeability, have much weaker skin effects, their skins at 24kHz are much thicker, and so you just can't kick up enough resistance to the current to generate heat, it just spins around in there getting kind of warm but you'd have a hard time actually cooking with it. Indeed, non-magnetic stainless steel also won't work on induction hobs, because it also has a much thicker skin effect.
So you have the "real answer" being a fun hybrid of the two incorrect explanations.
The main side effects I take away from this are twofold.
1) you can absolutely make an induction hob that will heat copper and aluminum and non-magnetic stainless steels, you just need a high enough frequency to generate a strong enough skin effect to generate heat. Panasonic makes one that uses 60+kHz induction under the brand "Met-all".
2) if you physically constrain the current by having a really thin piece of metal, you can induction heat it anyway. When I read this, I stopped, took out a piece of aluminium foil, and stuck it on my induction cooktop. It almost immediately got incredibly hot and I pulled it away before anything bad happened. Turns out you could definitely melt and maybe even vaporize aluminium this way. So don't do that. Apparently people do this with lightweight titanium cookware too, which would not be able to sustain the necessary currents in a large bulk solid but can if you thin the base of the pan out enough.
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months
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Supersons +1 prompt answer Parte Dos
Parte Uno
Original Prompt
Jon couldn't help but take a peek at the large metal ring constructed behind the massive form of Dr Fenton, its size and shape dwarfing man and son. He couldn't watch for much longer, however, as their encounter with Daniel was expedited by Damian's impatience. Maybe he was just itching for a fight, or a supervillain to beat down. Either way, as Superboy, it was his job to make sure Daniel walked out with all his limbs intact!
"Daniel Fenton." But Damian was interrupted just as fast as he had started.
"Ew, no, it's Danny thank you very much. Only my parents when they're angry, and- bleh- Vlad, call me Daniel."
Damian scowled (he was doing that a lot today). "Daniel Fenton, we have some questions for you."
"Guess that's not gonna happen."
Time to intervene. Jon stepped between Damian and Danny, arms outstretched, with a friendly but diplomatic smile. "What Damian here means is we're suuuuper curious about your dad's research, aren't you Damian?"
"...Yes."
"If you wanna know more about my Dad's research, why don't you uhh." Danny bobbed his head at Mr Fenton's direction, the man in the midst of grabbing onto an unfortunate bystander and extolling the virtues of his next invention.
"Your father has proven lacking in his ability to explain his own work, which is why the responsibility now falls on to you, Daniel Fenton, if that's even your real name."
Wow, laying it on real thick, aren't you Damian.
Danny very pointedly ignores the death stare (hehe, death stare) from Dami to look to Jon. "And you are...?"
"Jon, I'm here with my dad too! He's a reporter, but some of this stuff's got me bored out of my mind. I mean, a flying toilet? Really??"
This manages to get a chuckle out of Danny. "You saw that too? And here I thought I'd get to see some normal inventions around here."
"I know right! I feel subconscious even with bathroom stalls and stuff. What are you gonna do, bring a flying curtain?"
"Honestly I know some folks back home who could find it handy." Danny said, a mysterious smirk on his lip. What could be so mysterious about a bunch of streakers back home? Or...
"Would you like to elaborate on that statement, Fenton?" Damian cut in. "Or the function of the garish-looking gateway erected by your Father?"
"Oh that? That's the Fenton PortaPortal."
"Porta what?" Jon asked.
"The Porta Portal. Portable Portal. It's like the one back home, 'cept it's light enough to move around."
"Portal to where exactly?"
Danny shrugs. "The Ghost Zone, where else?"
"You mean to say your parents have breached the afterlife using science?"
"Hah!" Danny laughs. "But it won't work, trust me." There was that knowing grin again.
"You seem pretty sure, Danny. Also wait, you have one of these back home?"
"Yeah, and it let in the raging hordes of the undead on my town. Overshadowing (that's possession btw), taking over the school with meat, box-based assault, replacing people like changelings, that one time a ghost tried to blow up my sister with a laser, that one time the Ghost King kidnapped the entire town and transported it to the Realms..." Danny listed out various dangerous situations like it was Tuesday, ignorant of the dawning horror upon his audience's faces. Jon himself was starting to feel a little green. Ghosts? Hundreds of ghosts? Each of them capable of possession, and according to Danny, much more?!
"How has the Justice League not heard of this kind of thing?" Jon tried, but failed to hide the slight shiver in his voice.
Danny shrugged. "Guess they dismissed our calls as pranks or something."
"Your father wishes to unleash the legions of undead upon Gotham?!" Damian stepped forward, getting up in Danny's face.
"Woah woah woah, chill out man. Mom and Dad actually learned from the last time and built like eight layers of shielding around the portal, not that it'll be necessary since it won't work anyway."
"And why are you so sure? Did you sabotage it? For whwat purpose would you tamper with your own parents' inventions?"
"Dami, maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions." Jon said, trying to pull Damian away without any obvious use of super strength.
"Yeah Dami, I'm just a kid, like you. You see an engineering degree anywhere that can be used to sAboTAgE anything? 'Cause I don't."
Damian glared at the other boy for just a second longer, before Jon was finally able to pry him off the poor kid. "I'm so sorry, Damian's just kinda intense sometimes, he really means well I-"
"It's fine. Besides, I'm bored as hell over here too. Since we're about sixty-nine million years below the average age of this place. what say we hang and laugh?" Danny got up and stretched his legs.
"Sure! Hey you seen the oven that's supposed to bake pizza in under ten seconds? Come on, Damian spotted this amazing design flaw, you just have to come with."
As Jon dragged them away, Damian muttered under his breath, deviously. "Good job, Kent, escorting Fenton to a secondary location for further questioning."
~~~~~ They spent the next hour roaming the convention centre, laughing and snorting their lungs out at the inventions, and the rich suckers lapping them up. Although Damian was initially as frosty as Superman's ice breath, Danny's mention of a glowing green ghost dog managed to gain his attention, if veiled behind suspicion and accusation. Looks like no squeezing was necessary, but the idea of a whole town of magical beings that possessed as easily as they breathed still made Jon nauseous.
"My parents actually get me keep him, without the threat of dissection, it's amazing!"
"Your parents dissect animals?" Damian spat out with all the hatred of a thousand dying suns.
"Ghosts, and they never have. Kept getting away. For some reason. Nowadays they're more into non-invasive study. and by non-invasive I mean totally invasive of things like privacy, and alone time." Danny grumbled.
"I feel you, man." Imagine having a dad with super hearing. Or growing up with the world's greatest stalkers.
"Privacy is an illusion." Damian being normal challenge IMPOSSIBLE
They had no more time to banter before Dr Fenton's booming voice echoed across the centre.
"AND NOW FOR THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, THE SHOWCASE OF THE FENTON PORTAPORTAL AND THE LATEST IN FENTON SURVEILLANCE TECHNOLOGY, BEHOLD!"
"Just watch." Danny said.
Jack slammed his fist upon the on button, which was thankfully on the outside this time. The circular rings around the portal spun and spun, creating an electric whirring sound building up to a crescendo...
Only for the portal to fizzle out, as the crowd's jeers reached a fever pitch.
"Told you so."
Danny's triumph lasted not for another minute, however, when his body shivered and a cold mist broke through his lips. "Shit." He muttered. At least Jon and Damian were looking away. Danny's eyes scanned the crowd. Jack Fenton's sorrow was wiped away as the sensors in his suit came to life. He whipped out a comically large ecto-gun, shouting. "I KNEW IT! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK FROM GHOSTS!!!"
Danny needed look no longer as piercing laughter filled the auditorium. A swarm of green bats descended upon the centre, causing chaos and confusion. Those among the crowd sensible enough to run for the exits found themselves halted by bars locking them shut. Jack opened fire, but was overwhelmed by dozens of ghost bats.
Danny looked for anywhere he could silp away and transform. Damian and Jon did the same. None of them could an opportunity, as two pairs of hands swept them off their feet, and bindings tied them together. Their eyes widened as they gazed upon their captors. Two men adorned with white face paint. One in a gothic waistcoat, the other with green hair and a purple suit.
The infamous Joker, and the not as infamous Freakshow, both in hysterical laughter.
"I really gotta give it to you Danny-boy, that sabotage act you pulled really put us for a loop!" The Joker gasped out between laughs. He pulled out a remote with a large red button. "But I, the Joker, have out-sabotaged your sabotage! AHAHAHAH"
The Joker pressed the buttom, causing the portal to roar back to life.
"Damian!" Bruce Wayne yelled.
"Jon!" Clark Kent shouted.
"DANNY BOY!" Jack cried out, but they were too late to stop the swarm of bats carrying all three boys through the newly reactivated portal, and were too late to follow before the whole thing blew to pieces in a fiery halo.
To be continued....
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folder-stuff · 10 months
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I steamed with these drawings for a long time, but it was worth it.
When I drew the designs of the guardians, all sorts of ideas came to mind about what happened while Cornelia lived in Meridian. I really like what I came up with, and I'll try to explain why I drew it all at all.
In general, as you know, in this alternative, Cornelia went with Caleb to Meridian, leaving her family and friends, as well as the post of a guardian. This event has greatly shaken Will's confidence in herself as a leader who is obliged to unite girls. Especially after the arch with Nerissa, where she almost lost the Heart of Kandrakar. And don't forget about Taranee's doubts, because of which she even left the team in the canon. In general, Will had reasons to give the leader's place to a new member of the team - Orube. "Maybe someone else can handle it better?" she thought.
At first, it seemed to be a good idea to run away from responsibility. However, girls didn't think so. No one recognized Orube as a leader for many reasons, one of which was Will's authority as the previous head. And when the girls were looking for support in her, she couldn't provide it, because she's not as solid as Orube or Cornelia. Will is a sensitive nature, the heart of the team, not its foundation, and she isn't able to return everyone from heaven to earth because of her character.
Hence the main conflict was born: Will couldn't cope with the role of the guardian of the earth, since she wasn't able to take the position of Cornelia in the team. She felt out of place and understood that she used to be more effective. Against the background of the defeat that has already happened after Cornelia's departure and Taranee's doubts, this aggravated the feeling of failure, inferiority complex and hesitation. Confidence is the main quality of the guardian of the earth, and she lost it without even starting to develop in herself.
This is where the main dilemma began: she wanted the leader's place back. But not only because she realized her incompetence as a guardian of the earth. It's also about the Heart of Kandrakar. From the very moment of Orube's appearance and the transfer of the Heart, Will heard its call, at first barely perceptible, but growing stronger every day. With the understanding of where she really belonged, Will missed the feeling of unity with the Heart of Kandrakar, with its warmth and power. And it scared her. Because she began to see Nerissa in herself, to hear her phrases in her head and to dream that she's turning into a recently defeated enemy...
This is exactly what I wanted to convey in my first work: the binding vines that strangle Will and don't allow her to move; the imitation of the Heart of Kandrakar, which no longer belongs to her; fear from the desire to possess what she can no longer possess.
I hope I have enough strength to make a post about Orube, because I did the drawing for a long time and was a little tired =_=
In the second picture, I wanted to show Will's routine and her new powers. She conjures only plants, often flowers, as it's more difficult for her to cope with heavy stones and hard earth. This is due to fading self-confidence and lack of firmness in actions and decisions. She's effective in combat, but things don't always work out the way she intended, which makes her angry at the plants, as if they're a computer hanging at the wrong moment. She had to learn to cope with vines and flowers so that they were useful.
Also, these plants often get in the way and grow when and where it isn't necessary. For example, they can cling to the legs and grow while Will sleeps.
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cuubism · 26 days
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inspired by this Hope!Hob piece by @mashumaru, have a little reverse-verse fic, Hob as Hope of the Endless and human Morpheus
(reverse-verse Hope and Morpheus are my special special little guys, I wrote an extremely long fic about them before. I think about them all the time and at this point they're basically distinct from Dreamling in my mind 😂)
cw hate speech, homophobia, slurs, violence. it's pretty brief though.
--
At this point, Morpheus is no longer shocked to come home and find Hope sat at his kitchen table, knuckles and brow bone bloody, drinking tea as if none of that matters. It still rankles him, though. Bloody. Injured. Always.
Morpheus sets down his messenger bag in the hall with a thump and bypasses Hope entirely to go right for the first aid kit on the top shelf in the bathroom. Hope turns to watch him pass, a forlorn little look on his face. No, Morpheus tells himself, he does not get some sweet little welcome home kiss if he’s going to come back like that.
“Must you insist,” he says, as he drags the kit—packed full, always—off the bathroom shelf and trudges back into the kitchen, “on always starting fights?”
Hope pushes his half-drunk tea away, pouting. “I don’t start them!”
Morpheus sits in the chair next to him and just looks at him.
“…Okay,” Hope concedes. His lip and brow line are bruised. There’s dried blood under his nose. Morpheus wishes this wasn’t his natural state. “Sometimes I throw the first punch.”
Morpheus sighs, tearing open an alcohol swab and starting to wipe at the cut on his brow.
“…Most of the time,” Hope admits.
“Hope,” Morpheus says, exasperated, and Hope cringes.
“You know I can’t really be hurt,” he tries to explain. “I’m not human. Besides. You think I’m just beating the crap out of people for no reason?”
“No,” says Morpheus, and wipes at his split lip with perhaps more force than necessary. “I do not.”
“Besides, I don’t kill people and I don’t like when people do it around me either. It’s not about fighting, I don’t enjoy fighting. It’s about taking a stand.”
“You do enjoy fighting,” Morpheus accuses. “I have seen you.”
Hope ducks his head. “It’s not about that, though,” he insists. “Listen. You know I never really finish these things, but it’s my role to start it. To show that these battles can be fought. And that it’s worth standing up.”
“Bar fights, such a noble cause,” says Morpheus dryly, and Hope tucks his forehead into his shoulder. Morpheus can’t help himself, his hand automatically goes to the nape of Hope’s neck, fingers combing through his hair.
“You attract violence to you,” he says quietly. “I have seen it.”
Hope sighs. “Did you really think that people would like Hope? Sometimes they want to give me a hug but more often they just want to punch me in the face.”
“I thought you were meant to inspire,” Morpheus says, and it’s a little bit mocking of things Hope himself has declared in the past but Morpheus is listening.
“More like get in the way,” says Hope, his face still pressed to Morpheus’s shoulder. He sounds despondent now. Morpheus supposes people instigating fights with you simply because of your nature wouldn’t be pleasant. At least when people instigate fights with Morpheus, he’s usually done something to deserve it.
“You are not ‘in the way,’” he says. “If you are, then you are meant to be there. Like when you stepped into my path.”
“‘Least you didn’t punch me,” Hope mumbles.
“I considered it.”
Hope huffs. He pushes himself upright again, shaking his messy hair out of his eyes. He is so beautiful, even still speckled with blood and grime from the fight. Especially like that, if Morpheus is being honest with himself.
“So long as you never hated me,” Hope says. His voice is fragile now, and it hurts Morpheus’s heart. Hope is like a radiant sunbeam, and still more often than not people are only trying to throw shadows over him.
“I could never hate you,” he says, and Hope’s expression softens. Morpheus kisses him lightly on the lips. “I do not think they hate you either. You are… challenging. Just being around you… it is a confrontation in its own way. Especially for those who may have pushed you aside.”
“Even for you?” Hope says.
“Especially for me,” Morpheus tells him. He leans his cheek against Hope’s, overcome with fondness. Fondness that is greater for how frustrating Hope has been to him over the years, during those times of darkness. “It is how you saved me.”
“You saved you,” Hope says firmly. “But if I helped, then I’m glad.”
“Always.” Morpheus kisses the hinge of his jaw. “What would I do without you?”
“Now you’re just coming on to me.”
Morpheus hums, not disagreeing.
“Admit it,” Hope says, tangling fingers in Morpheus’s hair. “You’re into it. When I come home all bloody.”
“Mm. I am not.”
“Oh, you are. I can tell.”
Morpheus skates a hand up along his thigh. “Hm. Perhaps it makes you seem very fierce.” He kisses Hope’s mouth this time, swipes his tongue soothingly over his split lip, tasting just the tantalizing hint of blood. Leans in and—
“Ow!”
Morpheus pulls back, raising an eyebrow. Hope looks sheepish, pressing his hand to his nose, which Morpheus had bumped. Hope’s non-human body will heal quickly, but for now his nose remains at least partially broken.
Morpheus keeps giving him an unimpressed look. “I see you are gravely wounded.” Hope catches him by the hair before he can truly pull away, and he smiles. “I suppose… I will have to ply my mouth elsewhere. If you promise to be more careful.”
“For such a reward I’d promise anything,” Hope swears, and Morpheus obligingly sinks down, hands on Hope’s thighs. It is hardly a hardship.
“You do like this,” Hope swears. “Don’t try to pretend. You’re so transparent.”
“Perhaps you once punched a man in the face on my behalf, and perhaps I found it titillating,” Morpheus says, and Hope laughs. “Is it terrible if I wanted you to break his nose? Perhaps I am terrible. You do look appealing with blood on your hands. If it is not your own.”
Even Hope’s own torn, bruised knuckles do stir something in Morpheus, a fierce pride and terrible heat. But he worries for him also.
“Liar,” Hope crows, gleeful, “hypocrite. Terrible lecturer. You love it. You know you do.”
“Do not get yourself horribly maimed in a bar fight,” Morpheus orders. “However…” he takes one of Hope’s hands, kisses his knuckles, lets his lips linger there for a moment. “If you must be righteous and full of passion, then I will soothe your injuries later, oh knight of promise.”
“Terrible incentive, now I’m going to get worse,” Hope says. He caresses Morpheus’s cheek, thumbs at the corner of his mouth. His look on Morpheus is so fond, always. Then he says, “Alright, darling, for you, I’ll be careful.”
“Thank you.” Morpheus leans his face against Hope’s thigh, lets Hope play with his hair. In a moment he will indeed ply his mouth upon Hope’s body as promised, in a moment he will indulge the spark that Hope’s fierceness lights within him. But for this moment, he just stays close to him, a gentle valley in the topography of Hope’s violence. Morpheus has never been gentle for anyone before. He finds he likes it.
Hope leans down, smiling, and kisses the top of his head.
~
Morpheus does not like to be “out and about.” In fact, he generally detests it. But Hope likes to be out among people and Morpheus likes to be with Hope, so sometimes he goes. Besides, he likes to see Hope happy.
The White Horse is a safe space for them, anyway. Morpheus does not feel so uncomfortable there as he does at other crowded, loud establishments. He sits in his usual corner seat at the bar, nursing a drink and working on his writing, leaning lightly against Hope’s shoulder as Hope chats with whomever has come up to him now. He tends to attract people wherever he goes. Fortunately, no one has tried to start a fight, this time.
Hope leans in close to his ear. “Get some air with me?”
Morpheus smirks. Inevitably, getting some air will turn into Hope pushing him up against a wall and kissing him senseless. He is hardly opposed to that series of events.
Cold air washes over him as Hope leads him out to the back garden, around the corner to a private spot in the alley by the inn. It makes his hands feel even warmer as he takes Morpheus by the hips, leans him up against the wall as expected, thumbs stroking over his hip bones under his shirt. Morpheus smiles to himself.
“Did you get bored?” he teases.
Hope kisses his cheek, then his jaw, leans in close to his ear. “Hardly. You know my mind is always on you no matter what. But you were being so patient.” He tugs on Morpheus’s ear, then goes to his throat, kissing along his pulse. “How could I not reward my darling?”
“Knowing that I am the one you will go home with is its own reward,” Morpheus murmurs. He trails a hand up Hope’s back, pulls him close so their bellies are pressed together. “So many of those people in there want you. I see it. But they do not know that you are already taken.” It makes him feel privileged. And hungry.
Hope laughs. “Possessive little bastard.”
“Yes.” Hope is so radiant. To be the one chosen by him… it makes Morpheus’s soul sing. “You are mine. I am yours.”
“Yours,” Hope agrees. With that he moves to Morpheus’s lips and kisses him deep. Morpheus hums in pleasure, opens his mouth to him. Tastes the beer lingering on his tongue. Sinks into the press of Hope’s fingers on his hips, and—
“In public? Disgusting.”
Hope pulls away from him, and Morpheus grumbles in displeasure. Hope turns to the mouth of the alley, where a strange man is standing, expression of, indeed, disgust on his face.
When they don’t respond, the man steps closer until he's almost in their space. Hope’s jaw clenches but, perhaps remembering how Morpheus had chastised him for always getting into fights, he doesn’t yet react.
“Can we help you?” Morpheus asks. Not politely.
“By taking that somewhere else,” says the strange man. His tone is aggressive. And most of his attention seems to be on Hope, rather than Morpheus, which Morpheus doesn’t like. Morpheus has noticed before that Hope’s presence inspires ire to jump to action as often as it inspires positivity and good works. But this is the first time he has seen such outright aggression.
Maybe some people really do hate Hope.
“Mind your own business,” says Hope, stiffly.
“You fags shouldn’t be allowed out in public, it’s an insult to respectable people.” He’s still primarily looking at Hope, and it's hard to say if it's because he is the one who looks more traditionally masculine between the two of them, or if it is because of the inherent draw of Hope as an Endless. “Should fuck a real woman instead of that.”
Hope takes a quick step forward at the man’s words, expression hard.
“Hope—” Morpheus starts. Do not get yourself hurt again, he means to say. As much as I enjoy you defending our honor I also like you well. For Hope may have supernatural qualities that prevent him from dying but he is not invulnerable. His powers lie in his empathy, his charisma. Emotion and community. But he takes a punch like any other man. Comes home to Morpheus with a black eye like anyone else would.
Hope stops sharply as if caught on a leash. And Morpheus immediately regrets speaking, for the other man crows in victory.
“What are you, his little bitch? You a man or not?”
Hope flinches despite himself. Not, Morpheus thinks, because he cares so much about a stranger’s sense of masculinity, but because he prides himself on being able to handle himself. On being able to defend his lover. On being able to stand on his own feet after being broken down into shards by his imprisonment.
Morpheus often feels anger, is too quick to it even, but he does not often act on it with violence. It is not so much that he disapproves of violence as that he dislikes the attention associated with causing a scene, and, being rather slight, is usually at a disadvantage in any physical confrontation besides. Cutting words are his weapons instead.
But watching Hope shrink back, the hurt that flashes over him—a terrible spark jumps inside Morpheus. Hope is stronger, is better, than any person he knows. Has been through hell and come out of it still with more empathy than Morpheus has ever possessed in his life. Morpheus will not watch him made small.
He steps forward and punches the man square in the nose.
He hears a crunch. He’s not sure if it’s the nose, or his own knuckles. The man wheels back with a shriek, clutching his bleeding nose, and Morpheus stumbles back, too, shaking out his hand.
Hope has his hands over his mouth in shock, eyes wide. “Holy shit.” When he drops his hands, he’s grinning. “Holy shit.”
Holy shit indeed. Morpheus watches the man scamper off down the alley, casting one last dark look back at them. His hand hurts, he might have broken it—but the adrenaline pumping through his veins is much louder. He can’t quite believe he did that.
“How’d that feel?” Hope asks. He is a terrible influence sometimes. Always roping Morpheus into doing terrible things, like wanting to live.
A smile tugs at Morpheus’s lips. “It felt… good.”
“Yeah?” He’s still grinning madly. “Let me see your hand.”
Morpheus shows him. Hope prods gently at his knuckles, and winces.
“That’s gonna hurt for a while,” he says. “Your punching technique is terrible.” He kisses Morpheus’s hand anyway.
“Now you understand how I feel when you come home bloodied,” Morpheus says.
Hope’s eyes are sparkling. He does not seem like he’s learned a lesson from that at all. “Oh, I do.” He leans in close, presses his lips to the corner of Morpheus’s mouth. “You were…” his voice is a low hum, “incredible.”
“Do I get a reward?” Morpheus asks dryly, though his breath quickens at Hope’s proximity, the heat in his voice.
“For defending my honor? Anything.” He takes Morpheus’s uninjured hand. He smiles. He’s altogether too excited about Morpheus punching someone. Which only makes Morpheus want to do it again. Terrible influence, Hope. “Come home, and I’ll show you.”
But Morpheus catches him when Hope starts to tug him away. “Here.”
Hope raises an eyebrow at him, but he does look… interested. “Something to prove?”
Morpheus draws him close again, leans back against the wall so Hope is caging him in. “Perhaps I simply want you, and I do not care who knows about it.”
He touches low on Hope’s belly, his hand hidden between their bodies. He is not willing to truly expose them—though they are somewhat sequestered in the alley at the moment—but to play with the idea is… arousing. He wants Hope to touch him. Here, in their place. After Morpheus has hurt someone for him.
He cannot blame Hope for this. Morpheus is just a terrible influence upon himself.
“Menace,” Hope chuckles. “You’ve no high ground left, you know that, right? You’ve obliterated it.”
“I never did,” Morpheus says, as Hope lets him draw him in and kisses along his neck. “Always you have been the better of us.”
“In terms of exhibitionism, maybe,” Hope says. Even now, he won’t let Morpheus truly criticize himself. “I could be persuaded, though.”
With that, he slots their lips together. Sucks on Morpheus’s lower lip as he pushes him harder against the wall, Morpheus’s back scraping the brick. Morpheus groans, pulls him close by his hips so Hope’s swiftly-hardening erection is pressed against his, and Hope’s breath hitches against his mouth.
“Should I give you a proper reward?” Hope murmurs.
“Yes,” Morpheus breathes. “Hope—”
He loves Hope so much. He wants Hope so much.
“Vicious little thing, I love you so,” Hope says. And then, in the darkened alley by their favorite place, with his hands and mouth and the weight of his body and his devotion, he goes about showing Morpheus just how much.
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rottiens · 2 months
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ਏਓ : HE ASKS YOU OUT! ㅤ gojō satoru x gn!reader — tags. sfw. divider creds: cafekitsune. // WC: 0.8K
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Satoru found you at the Café on the corner of the last street. At the place he had shown you a couple of months ago because they sold the best coffee in the whole city, because it was the only coffee shop that sold the sugar-soaked sweets he so desperately needed to start his day. He took you here the first time to sweeten your day a little, to remove the wrinkles from your forehead and remove the gray clouds of negative thoughts– when you ended up laughing until you cried he knew his work here was done.
The bell on the door shouts announcing the entrance of a new customer, Satoru had recognized your mane even from outside, even if it was hiding a part of your face. He knew it was you through the glass, you can't hide from him. Even with the sound you didn't lift your gaze from the laptop on which you typed so effervescently, you had a cup of coffee —black, he guessed— at your side.
Satoru didn't stop at the counter to order as he has done on other occasions as his eyes were on something sweeter than any coffee he could ever order. He advanced through the empty tables and stopped in front of you. You, still unaware of his presence, so he pulled one of the wooden chairs in front of you and only the sound of the seat grinding against the tiles managed to make you look up.
A tired, muffled "Oh" is all you say. The tone of your voice less surprised than he expected. There are dark circles under your eyes even though you had confessed it to him days ago, you wouldn't have to be a fortune teller to realize how little sleep you'd had these days and that caffeine is the only thing keeping you awake, your sockets engulf your eyes and your pupils look dull. But then, there's another "Oh!" Slightly more cheerful, now with the decibels of surprise necessary for Satoru to be smiling.
You were looking at the bouquet of flowers resting on the table, their colors so bright, so vivid that they seemed to infect you, capable of changing your whole aura. They were freshly cut, with drops of water still on the green leaves.
"Gojo…"
"You like them?"
"They're my favorite. How did you…?" The wrinkles on your forehead blur with your smile growing wider as you stop talking.
Satoru shrugs. "I have my contacts." That causes him to smile just as brightly as you do. "Are you going to accept going out with me now?" He asks more quietly than the tone in which the conversation was normally going and he can see the insecurity on your face, the internal struggle you go through in seconds.
You were going to make another excuse, he knew it. He's been asking you out on a date for weeks now… it wasn't really a date, it was you who called it that, for Satoru it was nothing more than an outing. Eat, distract yourself, do something other than work, paperwork and think about your ex.
"I don't know… I have a mission to attend to."
"I haven't even told you the day."
You fall silent. Caught off guard you lower your gaze to the keyboard again, the blue light illuminating part of your face, dispelling a bit of the shadows the dawn hasn't yet been able to.
"Let's go to the aquarium," he says suddenly. That brings you back to him, to stare into the dark blindfold that forbids you from looking into those all-too-familiar blue eyes. "And then let's eat, or have breakfast first. As you wish." He speaks to you in that sweet voice he uses when he wants to get his way, one of his big hands moves across the table and rests on yours and you let him. You see the grip, his thumb carving your skin and you look up at him again, he drops his head to the side. "As friends, of course." He bites his tongue to keep from bringing out that flirtatious undertone.
Your ribs look like they're deflating letting out a breath you seemed to be holding, with the last thing Satoru says he apparently has changed your mind.
"As friends?"
"That's what we are, right?"
Your gaze goes anywhere but to him. Satoru presses down on your hand some more, an action that causes you to contemplate the grip on your hand again. He watches you stir on the chair and fix your skirt with your other hand.
"Fine," you snap. Satoru bites his lip to hide a victorious smile, only then letting go of your hand.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow, at ten if that's okay." You nod. "You want me to wait for you so we can go to Jujutsu High together? I'm already late anyway." Satoru pretends to look at an imaginary watch on his wrist and then looks at you to corroborate your answer.
"I don't go in for another hour, so you don’t have to wait for me.“
You let him take your hand from the table to bring it to his mouth and leave a kiss on the back of it, what should be an instant turns into a couple of seconds. Satoru holds your wrist sweetly, so delicate, he rubs the softness of his lips against your skin, on top of the kiss he just gave you and releases it to watch you slowly bring it to your lap.
"See you there."
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