#As someone who is learning on the job there is only so much she can do. But what she Can do is impatiently tap her metaphorical wrist watch

[channelsurfinng]

｡･ﾟﾟ･𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾...･ﾟﾟ･｡

...𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗌!

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 ✧ 𝗑𝗂𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗇, 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝖼𝖺, 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗁, 𝗆𝖺𝗏𝗎𝗂𝗄𝖺, 𝗆𝗎𝖺𝗅𝖺��𝗂, 𝗅𝗒𝗇𝖾𝗒, 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗅𝖾𝗒, 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾, 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖺, clorinde.

𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌!

𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌... 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗑𝗂𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁? 𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗏𝖾. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖼 𝗂'𝗆 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 + 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ✧ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗅𝖾𝗒. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍.

𝗑𝗈𝗑𝗈, 𝗅𝗂𝗅 ୨୧

she's a rather lazy kisser.

takes her time, but doesn't put a ton of passion into the kiss. she makes sure you know she means it, but just doesn't see the point of pulling away intensely gasping for air and all that stuff.

you normally receive her kisses during nap times. she loves to sleep, and so whenever you lay down with her, whether it's on the comfort of your shared bed or high up in the trees, she'll sloppily kiss your collarbones, neck, face, pretty much wherever she can reach.

she's a pretty good kisser overall, though. when she wants to be serious, they'll get a little bit more intense, but that's very rarely. really only when you're intensely making out, or even making love to one another.

passionate kisser! pretty much the exact opposite to xilonen.

she thinks of you as someone to be treasured, and she's very passionate about treating you as such. her kisses show you that almost perfectly.

a goodnight kiss and a good morning kiss is always in arrangement. she can't leave the house without them, and even if you're still asleep by the time she needs to leave, you'll still receive it. but there's no getting out of a goodnight kiss. she can't sleep without it, but she'll never admit it to you.

if she feels upset or angered by something, she'll immediately seek you for a kiss. no matter what you're doing, she'll take your face in her hands and kiss your lips. you never mind it. but it doesn't ever happen in public. she's not a fan of pda.

not as good as xilonen in terms of how she kisses, but she's passionate and sends her message through them. they do tend to get a bit sloppy during lovemaking, though...

his kisses are just a bunch of things all at once. sounds weird but do you know what i mean

he's stressed? he goes in for a kiss. he's happy? kiss. sleepy? kiss!

he doesn't do pda, but isn't like chasca as where she doesn't really want to initiate it. if he wants a kiss, he'll get a kiss. he might be teased to the deaths by ajaw, but oh well. he'll just swat him into timeout.

at first, he did not know how to kiss. like it was bad. lol. you kinda had to give him a little lesson because he's literally never kissed anybody before, and he wasn't ever just naturally good at it

but, with a little work, he learned, and he enjoys it very much! it's probably his favorite way of showing you he loves you, he thinks. he'd never put his lips on something he doesn't truly treasure, and you're the only one who gets it.

overall, not a bad kisser once you teach him. he knows the right and wrong times of when to initiate, and he knows your boundaries, and is careful to not overstep.

come home the kids miss you mavuika

she gives passionate, but not frequent kisses.

her job as the pyro archon takes a lot of strength and patience, coming from the both of you. she's stressed and tired, and you need to have the patience with her.

but she understands that you need attention and love too, and the caring part of her kicks in. and these moments are why kisses are so special.

they only happen when she realizes she's been potentially neglecting you too much. she could be away for days on end, but always expect a kiss and a long hug when she comes back, maybe as a little apology.

she's more of a hugger rather than a kisser. her hugs symbolize to you that she's there to protect you and that she loves you, but her kisses mean something even more than that. that's how you know that she really treasures you.

overall a good kisser when she wants to give kisses!!! though they're uncommon, they're long and passionate when they do happen. although, when you guys get it on (if you know what i mean winky face winky face) she kisses a lot more.

(hug hcs and maayyyyybbeeeee lovemaking hcs in a different post maybe perhaps perchance)

this girl is a KISSER!!!!!

she strikes me as the type of girl to kiss her girlfriends on the forehead or the cheek whenever they have to part. for example, kachina gets a little goodbye peck every time they need to separate (in a platonic way, obviously).

so when it comes down to you, you get even more!!!!!

her favorite thing after a long day of exploring with her friends is running into your shared home and jumping into your arms, kissing your face so many times you swore if she was wearing lipstick your face would be colored the shade she was wearing.

but she saves her real kisses all for you!!! the kisses she gives you aren't just little pecks, no, they're full on kisses. like, borderline making out, gasping-for-air kind of thing. she always giggles and kisses your nose right after before going back to what she was doing before (she finds it funny how you always look stunned and winded afterwards).

overall, the best kisses anybody could ever receive. someone get me a mualani. is this my sign to raise her from level 60?

this boy is such a tease his kisses are literally pretty much to tease you

see they can be serious and teasing. depending on the mood.

they'll be teasing when you're simply hanging around the house, maybe you're cooking or doing a chore while lyney's practicing magic. you could be hyper focused and he'll sneak up to you, silent like a cat, and just start showering you with kisses along your neck and shoulders. he earns a little swat on the shoulder for distracting you.

they'll be serious mostly when you're sad or he's jealous. if you're sad, his kisses will go from serious and passionate to his usual teasing pecks in attempt to cheer you up. it usually works, and he always ends up with a laughing s/o, just like he wants it.

but when he's jealous, woah. that's a whole different kind of thing. new side to lyney unlocked.

he'll come up to you and lock you in a kiss so passionate for so long you can barely breathe when he lets go of you, giving the person you were talking to a look before dragging you off. this will only happen if another man approaches you. he needs to show them who you really belong to, and what's a better way to do it than that?

overall, great kisser, but only really shows it during lovemaking or when he's jealous. he's skilled with his mouth, his hands, goodness, he's just the epitome of perfection!

hmmm i can't tell with him

sometimes he only has time for small little pecks, and other times he's got you on his lap in his office and kissing you until you pull away gasping for air. depends on his schedule tbh

on the days he is free, though, it's mostly just sex over simple kisses. he'll start with gentle, passionate kisses before moving down, and down, and down even lower, before more events start happening. idk he's a busy man people

but his little pecks are great too!!!! he needs to hurry out of his office sometimes and never fails to find you in your living quarters to give you a little kiss on the lips before leaving for the rest of the day, or maybe only about an hour. depends on the prisoner, depends on the severity of the situation, depends on a lot of things lowk

overall a good kisser. he just doesn't really have time to unleash his full potential (lol) but ya.

lowk same as wriothesley lol he doesn't have much time for really anything with relationships

but the difference is, instead of little pecks, he pulls you into a hug and truly kisses you goodbye. he may be away for longer times than wriothesley is, so he makes sure the impact lasts enough for the duration he's away.

he greets you the same way when he comes back, too. he never wants you to feel neglected, but his work occasionally has to come first.

and when you do feel neglected? ah, you may see it rain. he feels so bad, and watching you break down and tell him how you feel may make him shed a tear or two himself.

he uses gentle kisses along your neck and collarbones to get you to calm down, truly soaking in your complaints and doing his best to change his schedule just a bit...

overall an ok kisser. he just never has time to give them.

oh she loves kisses! but unfortunately she's too stubborn to admit it.

at first, something held her back from giving them. she didn't know why, you never knew why, but eventually she got more comfortable with it that she started giving them all the time!

she loves when you give them too! again, too stubborn to admit it, but she melts when you give her random kisses too (just avoid it in public, she'll get embarrassed, and how dare you embarrass lady furina!)

but in private , she's pretty much all over you! she wants to kiss you every single time that she sees you. she just finds you irresistible, okay? don't argue!

overall not the best kisser, but a fun kisser! never tell her that though, she might not appreciate it.

very dense. doesn't really understand the point of even kissing in the first place.

but she came to love it, that's for sure. and after a couple months, she'll start to warm up to initiating it.

her kisses are rather hesitant, as if she's doing it wrong. this is her first relationship, the first person to truly have her back. she almost feared messing up. but in your eyes, clorinde could never mess up.

she kisses you every night she's able to come home to you. but that's really all. kinda like mavuika, she expresses herself in other ways, but instead of hugging she uses her words and small gifts.

if you want more kisses, you gotta initiate. she doesn't mind it though! she secretly wants more, she's just nervous to ask

overall, not a great kisser, but she tries for you.

[uncle-fruity]

I've been the white person getting called racist and not understanding why, and I know how easy it is to feel defensive or flustered or guilty, but what the folks above are saying is 100% true. I've got an anecdote that I hope might be helpful for some fellow white folks to hear.

I was once at a house show and a black woman complimented my eyes, which are a very bright blue. I get that compliment a lot, and I get tired of hearing it but I also understand that people are just being nice, so I sought to amuse myself by responding with a joke. When this black woman complimented my eyes, I said, "Thank you! I'm borrowing them from a witch!" I'd only just started using this joke response in the last couple months. Just a little attempt at fantasy humor. Well, this woman got angry and called me racist in response. I was baffled, and she didn't really elaborate except to say something about witches and white people. I didn't understand, but I said sorry and let her be, as she did not seem interested in talking about it. I felt bad, and even worse that my gut reaction was, "How was that racist?"

Well, I never found out. I went home, I looked it up, I couldn't find anything. Google gave me nothing of use. I asked some friends I had, but they were just as confused as me. Even though nothing was coming up, I've more or less stopped using that joke just in case I'm missing something -- until I get more insight, at least. If anyone knows what she might have been reacting to, I would seriously appreciate a source for the information.

But I bring this up because this was one of those moments where I had to accept that I might just be the racist jerk at the house show in her mind forever, that she had a right to be mad about any perceived racism, and that I had to be okay with that. It isn't her job to unpack whether I'm actually a good person who's really trying my best. It isn't her job to get me up to speed, especially if she feels like I was trying to make a jab at her when she was just saying something nice. There are already a million and one white jerks who will ask black folks to defend their reasons for calling someone racist and demand an academic level contextualization, as if they're on trial and need proof, and not nearly enough of us who take the initiative to learn it ourselves.

There are academic papers. There are books. There are video essays. There are historical documents directly representing the sentiments & racist narratives of the time they came from. There are non-white people who have been writing and speaking about their experiences with racism for years and years and years and years. And there are people talking about it today, on this very website, and it's okay to just read & listen and to look things up if they confuse you or you need more context. A variety of sources will help you see the issue more fully.

Because the truth is that a lot of things that white people consider just part of "regular society" are baked in racism. The more you learn about racism and the history of racism and the ways racism has manifested over the years, the more you realize how much of that racism is embedded in our culture even in unassuming, casual ways. If you take time to learn about what racism really looks like, you can be more confident in your ability to avoid acts of racism. So if not wanting to be The Racist or not wanting to feel guilty about a Racist Action You Did is a real concern, the best remedy is to learn about it and try to see the ways you might be prone to perpetuating it. And when in doubt? Assume that a person of color knows more about what racism looks and feels like than you do. Reduce harm by resisting making defensive arguments to explain racism away, and just keep pursuing answers for your questions and discomfort by listening.

I highly recommend reading Ibram X. Kendi's work as a starting point, because he lays out the foundational stuff really well. I read How to Raise an Antiracist, but he also wrote a book targeted at adult learning called How to Be an Antiracist. One thing from his work that was helpful for me to internalize was that antiracism is an action, as is racism. No one is born A Racist -- it is not inherent to anyone. It is not an identity. It is learned and it is acted upon. Just so, antiracist is not an identity, but rather an action. If you care about being seen as One Of The Good White People, you will need to do the work to become one, and by the time you've done the work to become one, you will realize that that's not how it works. There is always work to do and how antiracist you are depends on what antiracist actions you take, not how antiracist your intentions were. You cannot simply say that you believe in racial equality without showing up for it. Racism is an action you take. Antiracism is an action you take. Doing nothing is still a choice, and it is a choice that tends to favor racism in practice. Learning more about racism as a topic and especially going out of your way to reflect when you've been called racist -- how you're going to better understand and better your actions -- are two very good antiracist actions that you can do for free.

And while you learn, just, know that it'll be uncomfortable and take some effort to unlearn everything. You might feel some kind of way about stuff -- parts of culture that you connected with and are only just now realize have racist tones. It's bad. It's really bad and a lot of our family members present & past do or did terribly racist things. You have probably done something racist. It's possible that you're going to do something racist in the future. It's uncomfortable to acknowledge, but we will never change if we can't accept that we need to put in the effort and do better. And we can't know how to do better or look out for non-white folks if we don't actively learn.

Sorry this got so long. I hope it is a productive addition to the conversation.

listen. white people. LISTEN to me. if a person of color yells you that you did or said something racist the appropriate response is to go "oh shit, sorry" and maybe MAYBE a follow up of "can you elaborate" if you dont understand why and thats. IT. we do not need elaborate prose about how sorry you are or how grateful you are for us telling you or how youre working on unlearning it or whatever. JUST SAY SORRY AND DONT DO IT AGAIN THATS IT ❤️

[strawberryforks]

can you write a tim bradford angst fic pleaSe? something like along the lines of him and the reader are married and she comes from a line of cops ( kinda like blue bloods) and he has an affair with lucy? super angsty!! thank you!!! ☺️

ignorance isn’t always bliss// tim bradford x reader

warnings: swearing, violence, police stuff, mentions of guns, cheating, #nobetawedielikethisrelationship

a/n: requests are open! THANK YOU anon for this one!! and HAPPY NEW YEARS! <3

There had been signs. Some subtle, some so obvious that by ignoring them—by not following them you wondered if you should quit your job and pull a John-Nolan and work construction (if not following in his footsteps, you should’ve consulted him at least. John Nolan was a big talker and somewhere inside all of those words was always solid, sometimes maddening, advice. Maybe if you had asked him things would’ve ended differently) Hey, or maybe you could be a farmer! Work at a call centre, as a barista, as a banker, a hostess, literally any occupation that didn’t involve uncovering the truth. The truth that you were trying so hard to ignore.

You ignored it when your husband started “working late” even when Sergeant Grey had no recollection of the case he stayed late working on. Even when his late night scouring of casefiles was done with his Rookie, Lucy Chen. But… that was okay. Lucy was like a sister to you. When she needed a place to stay you had convinced Tim to let her crash on your couch–maybe that was where it all went wrong, maybe it was your fault, you who had planted the seed that tore your family apart. You ignored how he kissed you less, how you had less to talk about. You even ignored when your brother Charles looked at you with pity having overheard rumours you insisted were just that–rumours.

You ignored it when Tim came home smelling like a perfume that wasn’t yours. When that perfume was one you’ve smelt in the workplace before; one belonging to a coworker you considered a friend.

Your friend, your husband.

It was all so surreal.

Labels didn’t mean much, you learned that quickly. A friend could betray you, so could a husband. The badge didn’t always mean honour, not outside of your family at least.

You ignored a lot… but you could only be so oblivious.

Your breaking point was unexpected. It came on a monday. Tim had the day off because he’d been working night shifts and you had gotten off early, hoping to patch up some things by cooking your husband a nice meal–one of his favourites.

“Baby, I’m home! I grabbed some groceries, going to make lasagna for dinner, I think.” You shoulder through the doors and Kojo bounds over to you, barking. He wags his tail happily and you bend down and scratch the space between his ears. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” You step past him and hear a noise. Is someone… what? Suddenly your off duty weapon is unholstered, you lift the gun up as you clear the house, room by room. There’s no one in the living room, no one in the kitchen. You start down the hallway, pushing doors open and looking inside. No one in the bathroom, no one in the guest room. That leaves one room. Your bedroom. The noises grow louder. You hear rustling, hushed voices. Frantic movements. You’re hoping; honestly you’re praying that someone has broken in. Anything but what you’ve come to expect. “Tim?” you call, “is that you?”

No answer. Of course there’s no answer. You take a deep breath, the cool metal of the doorknob closed in your hand. You twist it and push into the room. Tim’s standing at the end of the bed, facing you and the open door. He’s shirtless, his hair is messed up and there’s remnants of lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

You don’t wear lipstick. You haven’t since your last date night. The one so long ago the details are fuzzy.

Tim drags his hand across his face again while the other flies to the back of his neck. “Y/n…” he looks guilty and you know what he’s going to say, you just… you don’t know if you can hear it. If you’re ready to–if you’ll ever be ready to. You feel a strange tightness in your chest. It hurts, it really does.

You’ve been wounded in the line of duty before. You didn’t expect to be wounded in your own home. Not by the man who's supposed to love you wholly.

In sickness and in health–you laugh. Tim could stand by his ex wife, Isabel, all through her addiction but he couldn’t stand by you. “What…” you choke, “what did I do?” there had to be something you were missing; some catastrophic way you had messed up and ruined everything.

“You didn’t do anything.”

Your eyes dart around. The room that you and Tim shared. The room that held so many memories—all tainted, now. The sheets are messed up, there’s clothes on the floor. A bra, panties, neither yours. Your gun clatters to the ground and the safety’s on, thankfully. Not that you’d care. Some physical hurt would pair with the emotional kind nicely–distract from it if you were lucky.

You were far from lucky.

Eyes watering, hands shaking, you raise them to keep distance between you and Tim. He’s approaching like you’re some feral animal he’s afraid to startle. “It’s not what it looks like.”

You laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “It is though, Tim. It really is.” You shake your head back and forth, not understanding. “Why—why couldn’t you have just asked for a… a divorce? Why did you have to go and…” Tears run down your cheeks. You wipe them away frantically feeling embarrassed—you knew this was coming. You knew what was going to happen so why did your heart feel like it was shattering? “Why did you have to cheat on me?”

“It wasn’t planned… I wouldn’t… You have to believe me, it was a mistake.”

“No, no. A mistake is forgetting to change over the laundry. A mistake is not taking out the trash. This… this isn’t a mistake.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“Do you love her?”

He didn’t say a thing.

“Do you love her?!” you screamed.

“I… I don’t know.”

An ‘I don’t know’. He threw everything away over an ‘I don’t know’.

Tim took a step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you flinched away. His face twisted with desperation but a flicker of understanding was there too– you didn’t want him to understand. You didn’t know how he could.

"I never meant for this to happen. I got confused, I—"

"Don’t." Your eyes were full of tears you refused to let loose. "Don't lie to me. You’ve done enough. You chose her after… after all we’ve been through. You, me, my family.”

“I never believed the marriage trap cops fall into. When my buddies wouldn’t come to our wedding because it was my first?” You laugh bitterly, “cliches are cliches for a reason, I guess!”

The sadness morphs slowly, turning into a building rage. “Where is she?” You march over to the bed, flipping the duvet up onto the mattress and peering underneath. “Not under the bed!” the curtains are the next to go, “not behind the curtains!”

“Y/n, you need to calm down,”

You laugh, feeling manic as you rip the curtains down. Light pours into the room but today is anything but bright. The last spot you check is the closet and there she is. Lucy Chen stares at you from behind the sweaters hanging in your closet. Lucy Chen. Lucy mother fucking Chen. Like a sister to you and… you laugh. “You know what—“ your voice breaks, “you can have him! And while you’re at it take some of my fucking clothes,” her face is bright red, her eyes wide and regretful? You don’t care. You can’t find it in you to.

Her hands are the only thing covering her body. You can’t breathe–she’s your friend and she was sleeping with your husband. Your husband! You start throwing things. Your clothes, the hangers they’re on, your shoes, “have these too!” you shout. You pick up a book preparing to launch it at her and then your hands are being forced behind your back as you scream and spit and curse. Tear tracks are prominent and maybe you are a feral animal because you don’t even hear the words whispered to you as cuffs click onto your wrists and you’re taken down to the station.

“I want a lawyer!” you scream and he appears. Lopez’s husband, (not a cheater! You refuse to speak to another one of those) Wesley Evers, approaches you with a frown on his face and his brows crinkled in confusion.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re not pressing charges,” Tim says, “she just needs to calm down… she assaulted officer Chen and–”

“What the hell is going on?!” Wesley’s question is repeated in a booming voice and this time, it’s your father asking. The chief of police is standing in the middle of the hallway glaring daggers at Tim Bradford, the man he used to go golfing and to get coffee with. He storms over. “Why is my daughter under arrest? Talk, Bradford. Now.”

“Sir, I… maybe it’s best that we talk somewhere else.”

People are staring. Colleagues, civilians waiting to file complaints.

You smile. Sweet, fake, heartbroken. “We’re getting a divorce, dad. He cheated on me with Chen… I… Tim, you said you aren’t pressing charges so let me go, okay? We’re done, this is all done.” Tim passes the keys to your dad who unlocks the cuffs. Wesley still hasn’t managed to slink away so you turn to him. “I need a divorce lawyer. Are you multi-talented or do you know someone? I don’t care about the house, he can have it, but I want Kojo–our dog.”

“You can’t–”

“Officer Bradford I’m going to recommend you leave,” says your dad, ever the diplomat. “Take the day off, get out of my precinct.”

“Yes sir.”

“It’s Chief.”

“Yes Chief.”

Then Tim’s gone, the cuffs are off, and you’re being led into your fathers office. He lectures you because you’re a cop and you’re held to a higher standard because you wear the badge. He lectures you because you’re better than this and because you should know better. But after all of that he hugs you. He holds you while you cry and tighter, when you tell him, still sobbing, “I’m pregnant, dad.”

[coralaura]

Primadonna

Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Model! GN Reader

“All I ever wanted was the world”

Your mother always feared what you could become when you were in her womb, you had so much bad blood running through your veins, she wished from the depths of her being that you were like your father, Bruce Wayne.

A wish that no matter how much she longed for was not fully fulfilled, you obtained the features of a Wayne, so cold and defined that if people had at least two neurons they could connect the dots and know that you were a bastard of the philanthropist.

You may have looked like him but your personality was more that of your beloved mother, the woman who gave birth to you and despite noticing the same darkness of her in you, she wanted to love that little piece of light that she cultivated in her womb.

It was easy to know that her departure left you devastated, you were just a child from the slums, your mother was a high-risk victim, easy to kill and that no one cared about, found in an alley, dead, her last expression was fear and despair.

Heartless people took it from you, but you were as smart as your mother, you were the result of the union of a millionaire and a woman who provided certain services…

And your mom, I knew that your beauty and the personality that you cultivated during the last 7 years of your life would save you, because you are like a rose, a beauty on the outside but only thorns on the inside.

Your father was never interested in seeing you, he always had time for everything but you, mom told you to never beg for attention because it will make you look weak and needy and you learned that lesson well, the first time he ignored you was the first and the last because there would be no more rejections if you never tried again, if now you reject him first, right?

The same was with the others except for Alfred who believed in your sweet look full of innocence, your resemblance to Bruce, Thomas and even a brief hint of Martha Wayne.

He fell into the rose but didn't see its thorns, he took care of the flower so close without being hurt by its edge, because he was the only one you could trust, he won your trust and the title of father in your eyes.

As the years went by the beauty in your face was not hard to notice, people noticed it and one day they offered you to be a model, twenty dollars an hour they told you and it was easy for you, you didn't want to ask any Wayne for anything, you didn't want to owe them anything, so money was necessary for it and to no one's surprise, a pretty face triumphs in this business, you just had to smile and pose.

Show a little body and smile again, that was what mom did, only this time this job was acceptable and not physical, one felt just as desecrated, because people began to draw a detailed map of your body, analyzing in detail and calling you the closest thing to the chiseled body of a God.

The only thing that was yours was what kept the “decency” still on the plate, the only thing that had not been desecrated but had always been longed for, by men and women alike and it was so suffocating, it seemed to consume your will to continue.

And soon you knew that you were more than an object to be seen and never to be touched, because a simple touch melted anyone, enchanted by your beauty, that became your weapon, you took advantage of the gift of genetics and used it to manipulate.

People never realized why someone pretty can not be evil, right?

You used tricks, you ruined your rivals with words, with actions and you made them look bad, because after all you were too pretty to be that evil. It's all someone else's fault, but yours, isn't it my sweet diva?

What a mistake it is to think that a beautiful rose can't be rotten inside, because after all your mother's blood flows through your veins and if she is a poison of society then you are already rotten from the moment you were conceived.

All you wanted was to be adored, the world was yours to play with, your ego a great double-edged sword and people's adoration was surpassing your expectations, any psychologist would say that you only want people's attention because your family never gave it to you, however he wouldn't know that that was nonsense, what was the use of their attention if you had the world wrapped in a ring that revolved around you?

Where you were the protagonist of this story and you get everything the world had to offer. You get everything for being Y/N even though you don't really deserve it.

Although that attention that you wanted so much also includes a family full of people obsessed with the idea of you coming home but that is a story that is just being written.

“The primadonna life, the rise and fall”

My first language is not English, so much of it was done with the help of translators (google translate) So if you see something that could be improved I appreciate it, comments, ideas, criticism and advice are appreciated.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Hey so can I possibly get a scenario with Raphael. You know cuz he’s tall. S/o can’t reach the top shelf and she’s like “the universe is humiliating me. Can you get that for me?” It normally happens at the boys house or if they happen to be at a public place. If they can’t see over a fence or they can’t get into the attic even with the ladder. S/o is all pouty and looks at raph and is like “can you lift me?” Raphael can’t fit through their attic cuz he’s too big width wise. S/o is small to where they can get into small places he can’t reach on the flip side? How’s he deal with this?

As someone who is quite short, I'm sure you can imagine how much I enjoyed this. 😈

...

Poetic Justice

"Oh, come on, really???"

You stand there, arms crossed, smirk firmly planted on your features. Somewhere in the ether there's a crash as a table flips upside down. Your smirk becomes a grin.

Tall. He's tall. And when you say "tall," you don't mean tall you mean TALL. And, and I will not apologize for this, he holds it over your head every chance he gets (fight me, I earned that pun).

"Hey, shorty," anytime you show up at the lair, but he means it literally. Purposely putting your coffee mug on the shelf just above where you can reach. It's like it's his job. He lives to torment you.

But now, it's your turn.

You'd arrived just as training was ending, 20 minutes ago. They'd been practicing projectiles, and after the others had cleared out, he dragged you inside to show you this "cool new trick," he learned with a shuriken, which promptly backfired, resulting in said shuriken ending up under the dais which held their Kamidama.

Leo had been giving him grief earlier about losing a shuriken, so there was no way in hell he can ask his brothers for help. You are his only hope.

"Say. It. Again." You demand, grinning.

He sighs heavily, "...This is stupid."

"You're welcome to go ask someone else for help." You say, smugly.

He growls at you. Actually growls. You raise an eyebrow, otherwise unmoved. He groans, "Fine."

You wait patiently.

"Will you please help me..." He says, painfully, "... I can't reach it."

...

What's up my darlings??? I'm back on my bullshit (kind of). The holiday burnout is still strong, but I'm working my way back into writing and whatnot. It'll be sporadic, probably be more vignettes and drabbles than actual fics/chapters, and asks are closed until I can catch up (sorry, I love you, and thank you for your patience to everyone waiting), but I'm HERE DAMNIT!!! 🤘🏻

....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[glassgulls]

OK! So now I've read and digested the chapter I just wanted to point out some things that made me cry and scream.

Amy was shaking in the bathroom, unable to control the emotions that were flooding her. She couldn’t face the mirror and turned away, feeling the tears begin to fall. They had been relentless the last six weeks. And after she had been faced with three positive pregnancy tests and then been pushed away again by Lucas, that huge, gaping hole in her gut had grown exponentially. It was overpowering her now, rendering her broken. 

I love how visceral you are able to convey characters feelings, the sheer panic and despair that Amy must feel mixed with the joy I can't even imagine what that would do to you mental and physically. Especially with the heightened emotion of hormones in the mix. I can feel the empty feeling in her gut, that feeling of rejection from the one person you had that finally saw you as you and accepted everything the good and bad. Then to have that ripped away from you, to have the one person walk away seemingly not wanting to fight for you? And when you are at your most vulnerable? I would just fall apart then and there.

Even her dreams reflected her deep longing for him, and the emptiness that was dragging her down, pulling her into a black sea of nothingness. Upon waking she would remember shards of her dreams in which she was calling for him, crying out, begging. And when she woke, she would feel tears clinging to her cheeks. 

Even in dreams the torment Amy feels is so heartbreaking. You always feel like when you sleep you're finally able to retreat from the world and your pain. I feel I'm there with her, lying there feeling like my world is being swept away. The description of the black sea of emptiness dragging her down hit me so much and her remembering that she was calling out to Lucas, crying and begging him but there's only that void. I honestly just want to hug her, Amy seems to think that she's not strong but to go through that, to feel that complete heartache but keep going she's so resilient. The sense of building pressure of despair you craft with Amy's thoughts and feelings both emotional and physical are so perfect. Ugh my heart just bleeds for her so much I want to just hold her hand and comfort her. I hope one day I can create such a real and relatable character like with Amy.

A tightness was growing in Amy’s chest now, that sensation which had been a friend of hers since Lucas left her life. She woke up with it every morning now, sometimes accompanied with a tension headache and a sense of dread at facing a new day. 

The way you describe that feeling of dread at facing a new day was such a gut punch to me. I think we all can admit to ourselves that we have felt like that. I love the description of that tightness in her chest, again you build the sense of anxiousness, that stress and pressure that's simmering in her. Uuuuugh it's so beautifully angsty!

“I know, and I’ve told him that. By your parents and Lucas protecting you, they’re suffocating you. We’ve all got to make our own way in life sooner or later. I’ve made enough of my own choices in life, some good and some bad. I know full well that this job comes with risk to those you love. I lost someone I loved through it.”

This, this right here is why we all need a Ros. I absolutely LOVE her dynamic with Amy. She's the only one who actually makes Amy decide what AMY wants to do. To encourage Amy to make her own decisions, to give her advice but not pressure Amy one way or another. Sharing that wisdom Ros has learned about the job and life that comes with it but be realistic, not sugar coat or doom say it. I think with Ros gentle guidance Amy can finally see herself as the world does a powerful and capable woman.

Then Amy heard it: the first actual sound of her baby’s heartbeat. Amy smiled, staring at the screen, looking at the moving mass. Sharon held Amy’s hand, watching her daughter’s face as it lit up for the first time in six weeks since being home in Coventry. 

I love the perspective of Sharon here, holding her daughters hand and seeing her come back to life again hearing the baby's heartbeat. I can see the way Amy is looking in my head with the way you describe it there's always such cinematic quality to it. I can see it on the screen so clearly. I can see Amy's first smile in weeks as she looks at the screen, that little bit of hope in Amy with that smile.

Would Lucas want to know the sex of their child? He should have been here, but Amy couldn’t stand the idea of him being half in and half out, having to see him at scans but not being able to go home with him. Everything at the moment was a mixture of emotion, and it was confusing. One minute she was sad, the next angry. The grief of an ended relationship, and the anger of Lucas making the decision he had, alternated frequently, like a whirlwind. 

In the car and Amy sat in the passenger seat, her thumb trailing the curve of the baby’s head. “Should I send a copy to Lucas?” she asked absently. 

“I still think it’s best he has no part in this,” Sharon hissed. “We’ll all pull together as a family, we always do.” 

Ok I think this is such a brilliant mix of emotion! The way you convey such realness at the confusion at excitement and mourning. The frustration that the decision had been made for Amy yet again without her say so. Sharon's lack of understanding of what Amy actually wants. And I do love that Sharon's attitude, even though it could be perceived as meanness, it's purely done out of love and wanting to protect her child and grandchild. It's done out of what Sharon thinks will keep Amy and the baby safe. But it's at this point we can see that Amy isn't a child anymore. Yes Amy might want advice but Amy needs to spread her own wings and at some point just like Amy is now you start to create your own little family outside of the parental unit. I think Sharon is brilliant complex character, she's not this villain trying to intentionally hurt Amy by keeping her apart from Lucas but this desperate mother fighting off any potential threat of harm.

Over a hundred miles away, in London, Lucas sat at the dining room table. He stared at the wall, the lifeless atmosphere of the place seeping into every fibre of his being. Three and a half months now he had lived by himself, haunted by Amy. Every inch of the place reminded him of her. After all, it was her flat originally. Living with her had been bliss; he would kiss her on his way out of the door, or at the main door to their office as they travelled in, pining for the end of the day when he would see her again. 

I know I keep saying this but I love the way you can describe a scene so clearly without overselling it. I can see Lucas sitting there bleakly in that flat the colour of life drained out of him with the contrast to him reliving his life filled in memory with light. You've created this atmosphere of him sitting here alone feels so cold and devoid of any warmth.

He thought of Amy, imagining her sitting in the garden, holding a baby on her lap, reading her old battered copy of The Hobbit, with a warm sun high in the sky. He had given her the ultimate gift, the one thing she had wanted for a while now, but he couldn’t enjoy it with her. Lucas knew she would be an amazing mother; doting, kind, eager to play and re-live her own childhood through their little one. 

I see the little nod with the book madam! It's so heartbreaking to see the process of him totally breaking down and giving up. To see him torment himself with the life that he's always wanted but feels he's not allowed.

Work seemed to be the only thing that got Lucas through each day, making him soldier on in this empty existence. It felt like being back in prison. Rather than being locked in a cell, he was locked in loneliness within his own mind. Memories of Amy were all around him. Would he ever be able to let go? The more he pondered on that fact, the more he knew the answer. The years Lucas had spent with Elizabeta had revolved around their work as operatives, and upon his return to the UK from Russia, their temporary ties were still work-based, her being his handler. The months with Sarah were, again, work-based. Everything revolved around MI5. Amy was so different. Their relationship had been built away from work, despite work being the thing that was constantly pushing them toward breaking point. Their love for each other was almost innocent, pure. It didn’t revolve around necessity. 

Again this was so wonderfully descriptive of Lucas's life being so cold and grey without Amy. Going through the motions of routine to get through the day. It's so heartrending to see him turn in on himself, it's interesting to see how the way his past relationships contrast so sharply with his and Amy's. I love the way you let us see underneath Lucas's MI5 mask. For us to see him compare and coming to realise what it was that he actually wanted in a relationship. That with Amy she saw him as the man outside of MI5. That all she wanted was him the man, not what she could get out of him with MI5 and had no ulterior motives.

Lucas even made himself feel the pain of showers, turning on the fast jet of water so he could be taken back to his days of torture in Lushanka. Re-live the waterboarding, where ice cold water was thrown over him as he begged for mercy and tried desperately to hold onto the information the Russians so badly wanted. He deserved the pain and the anguish. Beneath the water he shivered and wept, waiting and wishing for everything to end. Then maybe upon his deathbed, he could at least see her one last time in his moments of euphoria. 

That night and he sat on the edge of the bed, downing whiskey from the bottle. He rubbed his stubbled chin and stared aimlessly through the gloom. 

Tears trickled down Lucas’ cheek as he picked up his phone, and for the first time in months, he sent a single message to Amy. The alcohol had worn his inhibitions right down. 

I love you. 

Ok this section was so utterly bleak and my heart was bleeding for Lucas. Him showering to essentially self harm was so gut wrenching. You delivered his complete falling apart with such a brilliant punch. There's no heavy handedness and brash it's a deliberate careful trickle to this crescendo of how far he has fallen into despair to the image of him sitting on the bed drunk and at the end of his tether. The ultimate broken man, with the only thing in his head to just reach out to Amy. Those three words are so simple but they packed such a kick it was brilliantly written.

A short time later and Amy was staring at a letter she had left on her parents’ dining table. She had explained that she needed to go back to London and was taking the next available train out to London Euston. Amy knew her parents would go absolutely ballistic, especially her mum. But there was no way she could let Lucas remain alone and suffer. 

He deserved peace; after all, he put his life on the line daily to protect the UK public. Of course he deserved some peace. She wanted to embrace him, comfort him, just be there and hold him during his dark hours. 

This was such a huge turning point for me seeing Amy's character development. Amy taking that stand to do what she thought was the right thing to do by her family. That fear of what her Mum would say but still taking that brave plunge to be there for Lucas. And the way you are able to show Amy's pure love for Lucas. To reinforce the fact that Amy just wants to see him safe, to see him happy. Before we have seen Lucas taking charge or the relationship and being the protector but Amy does it with quiet grace and strength it's beautiful.

It was her original flat keys; two of them held together on a ring. One got her through the front door into the lobby area, and the other got her into the flat itself. Why had she kept them all this time? Was it because she always knew she would one day be going back? 

HELLO FATE! Showing up and giving a little nudge!

For a second, she placed her hand on her bump and smiled. 

We’re going to see your daddy. 

I was smiling ear to ear at this bit, head in hands grinning like a big idiot cheering Amy on.

The last time she had been in London and it had been cold, but now it was mild, a sure sign of spring. It was just after six in the evening when she made it to her old building and looked at the familiar sight. Sadness rose in her chest and she thought back on the day she had moved in, nervous at the prospect of a new beginning. Now she had another new beginning on the horizon, one that involved a new person, a new life. 

I thought this was such a beautiful sense of the passing of time, again it's so cinematic. That sense of the seasons changing around them as they go through the ups and downs (and shooting and kidnapping!) I loved the contrast of the new beginnings for Amy, it was so bittersweet but that hope you build into it. It's a new start in a phase of her life I thought it was so poignant that Amy returning with this new sense of discovery about herself in that she is out to take that new horizon and shape it for herself and her new family.

Amy let herself into the main front entrance of the building, and then walked down the corridor to flat number three. With a deep breath, she knocked, waiting for a response. 

THE. CLIFFHANGER. MADAM! I BLOODY took a deep breath at this as she knocked on the door! Damn, I fucking love the pace you've created in this and the journey your showed Amy and Lucas going through. Both with the utter heartbreak and despair at losing each other. Amy with the rejection and confusion that Lucas is not seeming to fight for her and the utter terror that she is alone. But bloody Hell she keeps going, and pushing herself forward despite not knowing what direction to go in. But with Ros's little nudge Amy's is standing up and fighting for what SHE wants. AMY is making that decision! Taking that chance which must be terrifying. And MAN it's so satisfying and exciting to see her on that journey.

And Lucas we see him completely falling apart and it was so interesting to see him (through Amy's eyes) as the strong confident person of MI5 actually just as vulnerable and desperate. And I know Amy wants someone to fight for her and maybe that person is also herself that need to do that fighting for herself if that makes sense? The character development and to see her grow as a person has been such a wonderful rollercoaster. It's felt so natural with the pacing. And we see that Lucas is now in desperate need for someone to fight for him and Amy is that strength and has always been with her selfless love and dedication to him and his happiness. With Lucas you can see that with his past relationships did they really see him as the Lucas North the man not Lucas North MI5? Amy did. I love the contrast between them from the beginning and now. Amy standing on her own two feet scared but not backing down and facing her life head while Lucas from the confident MI5 agent to Lucas the man lost in wanting the one thing he feels he shouldn't be allowed to have, a family and life.

I hope what I've written makes sense I just wanted to share my thoughts and how much joy and heartache it's been watching their journey together. I'm so hyped and nervous about where you are going to take them next @fizzyxcustard!

Covert Eyes (25)

Prologue| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, smut, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery, abduction, hostage situation, PTSD, torture mention.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy is now working for MI-5, after being recruited by Ros. But will her involvement with Lucas cause even more problems and heartbreak?

When Amy's parents get involved, how will things pan out for Amy and Lucas?

Official soundtrack list:  here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. People who don't engage are gradually being removed from my tag list.

This fic does have an ending in sight...finally. :)

Feedback, comments and suggestions are always very valuable. My messages and ask box (including anons!) are open.

Thank you so much to those of you who have remained with me through this journey writing this story, and while we are very close to the end of this story, it's not the end of Lucas and Amy! ;)

Morning sickness began, or at least got stronger; Amy couldn’t quite tell. Most mornings that Amy had got up in the last month and she had felt nauseous, probably due to her anxiety spikes, and not just the hormones beginning to surge.  

On the day that Amy was due to meet with Ros and she could barely keep any food in her stomach. Two rounds of toast had been immediately thrown back up. Three days later would be Amy’s booking appointment, where she would speak to a doctor or midwife face to face and begin the process of booking her first scan.

Amy was shaking in the bathroom, unable to control the emotions that were flooding her. She couldn’t face the mirror and turned away, feeling the tears begin to fall. They had been relentless the last six weeks. And after she had been faced with three positive pregnancy tests and then been pushed away again by Lucas, that huge, gaping hole in her gut had grown exponentially. It was overpowering her now, rendering her broken. 

Nights were the worst. Amy was left alone with nothing but her thoughts, and she would always think of Lucas. She replayed the memories of when he tickled her under the bedclothes, when he would come behind her in the kitchen and wind his arms around her, the feel of his hand in hers, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his voice. Every night and she prayed he would contact her, but he didn’t. Her texts and WhatsApp remained empty of any new messages from Lucas North. 

Even her dreams reflected her deep longing for him, and the emptiness that was dragging her down, pulling her into a black sea of nothingness. Upon waking she would remember shards of her dreams in which she was calling for him, crying out, begging. And when she woke, she would feel tears clinging to her cheeks. 

Ros waited for Amy in a Costa, which was in the city centre of Coventry. She slipped away towards the back of the shop and waited. It wasn’t long before she saw Amy’s familiar figure step into the building. 

Amy stopped, scanned the sea of heads and then nodded as she caught Ros’ gaze. 

“What would you like? I’ll get it,” Ros offered with a faint smile. 

“Just a cup of tea, please. I need to keep it a little more bland. I’ve been really sick the last day or two,” Amy said. 

Ros didn’t answer, but instead walked to the counter and placed her order. 

Amy sat down, being temporarily taken back to the café she frequented with Lucas. The place where it all began just over a year ago. It would be their one year anniversary the following week if they had still remained together. The night when Amy had fully let him in, the beginning of their rocky relationship.

Amy watched Ros order their drinks. Why did these people sacrifice everything in their lives just for the sake of a job? What was it about MI5 that was so special? They had given up their normal lives, friends, family, for this job. Lucas thought he could have a normal life, but that had all turned out to be false. No one had a normal life. The long list of casualties on the job proved that. Amy had heard about many of them. Surveillance operatives who had found themselves in deeper shit than they could have ever imagined. 

A tightness was growing in Amy’s chest now, that sensation which had been a friend of hers since Lucas left her life. She woke up with it every morning now, sometimes accompanied with a tension headache and a sense of dread at facing a new day. 

“What should I do?” Amy asked simply, as Ros placed the drinks down on the table. “Lucas is adamant that my parents are right, and has told me he’ll come to the scans and birth but won’t be with me. How can I get through to him?” 

Ros sighed and began opening a sachet of sugar. “Lucas is stubborn at the best of times. But if you want to be together enough then you’ll do it. Lucas wants you safe, and neither of us can argue with that.” 

“I’m not worth the fight for him.” 

“No, it’s not that at all,” Ros said, shaking her head for emphasis. “I’ve known him about three years now, and never saw him as content as when he was with you. He finally seemed at peace with himself. You really bring out the best in him, and he adores you. Never think anything less than that. Lucas never does anything by half measure, especially when it comes to you.” 

Amy looked down into her lap and felt the tears come again. “I wish he would let me make up my own mind. He’s always making decisions for me.” 

“I know, and I’ve told him that. By your parents and Lucas protecting you, they’re suffocating you. We’ve all got to make our own way in life sooner or later. I’ve made enough of my own choices in life, some good and some bad. I know full well that this job comes with risk to those you love. I lost someone I loved through it.” 

“I’m so sorry, Ros. I had no idea,” Amy replied. 

Ros smiled at Amy. “You didn’t know him, but you’ve probably heard his name mentioned. Adam Carter. Things wouldn’t have worked out between us. I always knew that. The job kept us apart, but he died on the job, same as his wife, Fiona. MI5 will either make or break you, Amy. But either way, once you’re in, you don’t leave. You and Lucas are truly devoted to each other, and you deserve happiness.” 

***

“You’re approximately twelve weeks,” the midwife told Amy. “Baby is growing well. Seems quite active.” 

Then Amy heard it: the first actual sound of her baby’s heartbeat. Amy smiled, staring at the screen, looking at the moving mass. Sharon held Amy’s hand, watching her daughter’s face as it lit up for the first time in six weeks since being home in Coventry. 

“I estimate your due date approximately the last week of August.” The midwife wiped the gel from Amy’s stomach and paused the image on the screen, printing the scan. “I’ll book you for your next scan, and hopefully then we can determine the sex of the baby, if you want to know.” 

Amy smiled. “I’d love to know. I always had it planned out in my head that if I had children, I’d want to know. It helps me get to know them better.” 

The midwife, a middle-aged lady with short greying hair and glasses, smiled. “That’s nice,” she said simply. 

Amy looked away and sighed. Of course the midwife wouldn’t be as interested; she saw dozens of pregnant women every day, and no doubt they all sounded like a broken record to her. 

Would Lucas want to know the sex of their child? He should have been here, but Amy couldn’t stand the idea of him being half in and half out, having to see him at scans but not being able to go home with him. Everything at the moment was a mixture of emotion, and it was confusing. One minute she was sad, the next angry. The grief of an ended relationship, and the anger of Lucas making the decision he had, alternated frequently, like a whirlwind. 

In the car and Amy sat in the passenger seat, her thumb trailing the curve of the baby’s head. “Should I send a copy to Lucas?” she asked absently. 

“I still think it’s best he has no part in this,” Sharon hissed. “We’ll all pull together as a family, we always do.” 

***

Time passed, weeks turning into months. 

Amy felt the tension and anxiety lessen, as the nausea got worse by her fifth month, and then eased again. The fluttering sensations began, something she knew was inevitable as the baby grew. Her stomach was becoming harder and more prominent, resting a little heavier on the waist of her trousers. 

Ros still remained in touch, having formally put Amy on early maternity leave after two months of sick leave. She had done all she could to keep the position open for Amy and also enable money to continue coming in, so she at least had something to live off. 

Lucas was silent. Sometimes his deafening silence brought her to tears in the middle of the night as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, praying he would be back beside her one day. She tried to imagine what the baby would look like, giving it Lucas’ grey blue eyes. But thinking on the baby’s appearance, always caused her to break down again. 

***

Over a hundred miles away, in London, Lucas sat at the dining room table. He stared at the wall, the lifeless atmosphere of the place seeping into every fibre of his being. Three and a half months now he had lived by himself, haunted by Amy. Every inch of the place reminded him of her. After all, it was her flat originally. Living with her had been bliss; he would kiss her on his way out of the door, or at the main door to their office as they travelled in, pining for the end of the day when he would see her again. 

Lucas walked slowly into the kitchen and looked out of the window, into the communal garden. It was growing dusk, with longer days moving in as the weeks passed quickly through spring. He thought of Amy, imagining her sitting in the garden, holding a baby on her lap, reading her old battered copy of The Hobbit, with a warm sun high in the sky. He had given her the ultimate gift, the one thing she had wanted for a while now, but he couldn’t enjoy it with her. Lucas knew she would be an amazing mother; doting, kind, eager to play and re-live her own childhood through their little one. 

Work seemed to be the only thing that got Lucas through each day, making him soldier on in this empty existence. It felt like being back in prison. Rather than being locked in a cell, he was locked in loneliness within his own mind. Memories of Amy were all around him. Would he ever be able to let go? The more he pondered on that fact, the more he knew the answer. The years Lucas had spent with Elizabeta had revolved around their work as operatives, and upon his return to the UK from Russia, their temporary ties were still work-based, her being his handler. The months with Sarah were, again, work-based. Everything revolved around MI5. Amy was so different. Their relationship had been built away from work, despite work being the thing that was constantly pushing them toward breaking point. Their love for each other was almost innocent, pure. It didn’t revolve around necessity. 

One way to numb the pain was alcohol. In the last few weeks and Lucas had welcomed whiskey and vodka into his life on a more permanent basis. The bedside table housed half empty bottles. 

Lucas even made himself feel the pain of showers, turning on the fast jet of water so he could be taken back to his days of torture in Lushanka. Re-live the waterboarding, where ice cold water was thrown over him as he begged for mercy and tried desperately to hold onto the information the Russians so badly wanted. He deserved the pain and the anguish. Beneath the water he shivered and wept, waiting and wishing for everything to end. Then maybe upon his deathbed, he could at least see her one last time in his moments of euphoria. 

That night and he sat on the edge of the bed, downing whiskey from the bottle. He rubbed his stubbled chin and stared aimlessly through the gloom. 

Amy was so ready to fight for you and you just let her go. 

But she needs to be protected. Her and the baby. 

You want her and she wants you. Fuck what her parents think. 

The arguments raged. Back and forth the voices went, turning into whispers the more that Lucas drank from the bottle. 

Tears trickled down Lucas’ cheek as he picked up his phone, and for the first time in months, he sent a single message to Amy. The alcohol had worn his inhibitions right down. 

I love you. 

***

Amy stared at the message, unable to comprehend that Lucas had actually sent her something. He’d been silent now for months, so she had taken this as her sign to leave him be and go through her pregnancy alone. The timestamp on the message was 2:04am. Messages in the dead of night were always a cry for help in some way. She whispered his name, still feeling stunned and not sure what to do. 

A few hours passed and Amy still wondered what on earth to do with the message from Lucas. She’d looked back at the message multiple times, making sure that she wasn’t imagining it all. But it was still there. Three simple, desperate words. 

An incoming call came from Ros. 

“Hi, Ros. Is everything okay?” Amy asked, trying to force a cheerful tone. 

“I wish I could say it was,” she replied. “Lucas didn’t turn up for work this morning, and has been coming in smelling of drink. Amy, he’s not doing well. He needs you.” 

Amy sighed and swallowed hard. “He’s stubborn, Ros. No matter what I say and do, he won’t let me come back. You know he won’t.” 

“Something tells me not this time.” 

A short time later and Amy was staring at a letter she had left on her parents’ dining table. She had explained that she needed to go back to London and was taking the next available train out to London Euston. Amy knew her parents would go absolutely ballistic, especially her mum. But there was no way she could let Lucas remain alone and suffer. 

Lucas had suffered enough in his life and all Amy wanted was to see him find peace, wherever and whoever he found that with. He deserved peace; after all, he put his life on the line daily to protect the UK public. Of course he deserved some peace. She wanted to embrace him, comfort him, just be there and hold him during his dark hours. 

On the train an hour later and Amy flicked through her purse, checking that she had enough cash to get her across London to her old flat. But as she rummaged in the coin compartment, she felt something long against her fingers. It was her original flat keys; two of them held together on a ring. One got her through the front door into the lobby area, and the other got her into the flat itself. Why had she kept them all this time? Was it because she always knew she would one day be going back? 

The flashing of buildings and landscape somehow soothed her, while a teenage girl of around sixteen years of age sat next to Amy, flicking through Instagram, and occasionally posing in her front facing camera. 

The closer she got to London and the more she could feel the fluttering in her belly, which was now showing. 

For a second, she placed her hand on her bump and smiled. 

We’re going to see your daddy. 

Apprehension and excitement both rose inside Amy. She had missed Lucas more than she could ever express, and while on the underground and then walking the street, getting closer to the flat, she could feel her anxiety taking hold. 

The last time she had been in London and it had been cold, but now it was mild, a sure sign of spring. It was just after six in the evening when she made it to her old building and looked at the familiar sight. Sadness rose in her chest and she thought back on the day she had moved in, nervous at the prospect of a new beginning. Now she had another new beginning on the horizon, one that involved a new person, a new life. 

Amy let herself into the main front entrance of the building, and then walked down the corridor to flat number three. With a deep breath, she knocked, waiting for a response. 

***

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[dykedvonte]

I hate the stretch lines in the front of Curly's uniform because that means the devs rushed to make a model in like a month or so and thought "They gotta at least know he has huge knockers, gotta know he's got back pain." Cause like what is the thematic importance of his tits having overhang?

What responsibility is that representing? Breast reduction? It shows an inherent greed in his character due to the excess and heshouldletmeholdone and that he clearly is blinded cause if he tries to look down his damn ladder all he's seeing is his own cleavage.

[ruvviks]

made the realization my vampire story would work best as a video game and now i can't stop thinking about it

[termagax]

my favourite side episode that ive been planning for 5ever is the team gets invited to a fancy ball and aja gets a handmade gown for it and feels really Normal about all this

[miisfits-toys]

Some elaboration on what exactly it is Edin does.

Glorified clean-up crew... Running around to track down magic hot spots (which are highly volatile and dangerous to the average everybody) and either: Disperse it, recycle (collect) it, or further track down whoever is responsible to Deal with Their Mess.

[thatfaerieprincess]

if one more well meaning relative asks me if i have done any drawing recently i will start screaming and flip a table 🤪🙃

[friendshiptothemax]

I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.

That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”

Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.

This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.

Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.

The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.

[chillllii]

i regret getting a cat in my current situation

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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[timmydraker]

Everyone in the Bat Clan has been noticing something over the years, specially about Tim.

Every so often he will go to do something with his hands or even his entire body, such as swaying or shaking his hands, but always stops himself.

There’s almost this look of annoyance on his face that just barely hides discomfort, but he brushes it off quickly.

Bruce noticed and, thinking about Robin more than anything, offered some kind of fidgeting device to help him stay on task, only for Tim to snap at him for the first time. It was his usual snark or commenting on Bruce’s well being, but a real moment of lashing out.

He decided then not to bother Tim about his clear want to move around it play with something even if it’s just his hands, mainly because he was doing his job well.

Yet, as he starts to really try and be a good parent to his kids and realises that Tim is one of the places he messed up most by basically using him to cope with grief, he decides to ask the rest of the family what they think.

Dick says it could be ADHD and he needs movements, with Barbara backing it up with a few websites in agreement.

Damian says he should mediate and Cass so what agrees but says it probably won’t help someone like Tim that much.

Duke and Steph make up a somewhat chaotic plan of coercing him into telling them what he needs, out of love and somewhat aggressive care.

It’s Jason who just scoffs and says, “It’s stimming, you idiots. He has like, super messed up standards cause of his parents, right? They probably didn’t allow it but he’s got that like, autastic thing.”

Only Jason Todd could say something so smart followed by completely idiocy.

But he is right, very much so. It might also explain why sometimes he seemingly couldn’t handle touch but when he panicked he need to be squeezed as tightly as possible.

Naturally, with a family of emotionally repressed vigilantes, they decide to subtly let him know it’s okay.

Dick is the worst with it, speaking far too loudly about how Autism is okay and how he wants to learn to support autistic kids, while Bruce thinks nodding along to this helps.

Damian just stares at Tim for five minutes before bailing and running away.

When a month passes and Tim seem more like he’s even more ashamed than anything my, Cass smashes her hand on the table at dinner and drags him out of the room to talk to him.

Tim is forced to sit and listen to his sister, who may or may not be his favourite sibling, talk about how he’s not damaged or wrong for needing to stim and move his body. She calls him out on how he is being a hypocrite, for accepting people like Bart and Barbara and and her for their disabilities whether ADHD or something physical but not himself.

Tim wouldn’t have been moved by this if it was anyone else, but never in all the time he’s known her has he heard Cass say so many words in one go nor can see her cry so much. She’s loud when she cries, making up for her silence, but it’s only something any of them have seen twice and that was Bruce and Steph.

He doesn’t just magically accept that he’s neurodivergent, nor does he ever want a title as to what is different about him, but the difference is still noticeable.

A week later him and Dick are watching an episode of their show and something Tim adores, a comic series, is referenced. Instead of what he usually does, that being sitting there as still as he can, he bats his hands around a for a few seconds before pausing and waiting for Dicks reaction.

When Dick beams at him brighter than a sun he continues, smacking the couch and even Dicks arm in his excitement.

A few days later he makes a high pitched noice just to get to an itch in his throat and doesn’t realise that Jason is there, yet when the other responds with the same noice, given a bit deeper, Tim smile. Bruce walks in on them making strange noises at each other in a sort of echo.

It’s months later when it’s his birthday and his family has come together to buy him a new, stupidly expensive camera only to reveal they also added a red light room in the manner for him to print them that they really see how much safer he feels.

He flaps his hands aggressively and jumps in place, rumbling out words that don’t all much and thanking them over and over.

He squeals happily but only has a moment where he looks shamed before Bruce holds out a flat palm for him to smack excitedly.

Later, when he gets overwhelmed and crashes a little, Duke lies on top of him to give him pressure only for Steph to sit on him.

[hiddenreamers]

Worlds Collide - Lando Norris x neuropsychologist!Reader

SUMMARY: You're a fresh neuropsychologist who is internet-famous for making entertaining and educational videos about anything psychology-related. Lando and you meet for the first time when the two of you are invited to do an episode on a podcast where people from very different professions sit down together and talk about their lives. Considering the instant chemistry, the fans aren't exactly surprised when the dating rumours emerge...

worldscollide_pod tagged landonorris and yn_thebrainiac in a post:

What do a neuropsychologist and a Formula 1 driver have in common? 🧠🏎️ We don't know either! So we invited landonorris and yn_thebrainiac to tell us about their lives.

Listen to Worlds Collide wherever you get your podcasts or watch the episode on our YouTube channel. You can suggest and vote on show guests on our Patron page.

Comments:

user1: i'd say they have brain injury in common??

user2: not the crossover episode we wanted but the one we needed

user3: he's driving fast, she's a failed med student, what's interesting about that?

↳ user4: omg please be a joke 😭 or a ragebait ↳ user5: user3 do you realize how much time and effort it takes to be either a f1 driver or a neuropsychologist? ↳ user5: high school dropout ass comment

landonorris: can't wait!

↳ yn_thebrainiac: looking forward to meeting you ❤️ liked by landonorris

user6: he called a rectangle a circle and she uses Latin names for brain parts like it's common knowledge. Truly a collision of worlds lmao

user7: these two in one room?? feels like a fever dream

↳ user8: more like a new Barbie movie

worldscollide_pod tagged landonorris and yn_thebrainiac in a post:

This week on Worlds Collide we have learned that a pit stop is kinda like a therapy appointment, helmets are humanity's best invention and waffles are to your brain what fuel is to a car.

Huge thanks to landonorris and yn_thebrainiac for giving us insight into their exceptional careers as well as two hours of good laughs!

Listen to Worlds Collide wherever you get your podcasts or watch the episode on our YouTube channel. You can suggest and vote on show guests on our Patron page.

Comments:

user9: yn_thebrainiac is the only person to get excited over brain injuries

↳ user10: and landonorris is the only person to make heart eyes while someone is talking about brain injuries

user11: when yn_thebrainiac was explaining her job and said to Lando he should hope he never has to be examined by her he looked so defeated 😭😭 truly a wet cat

↳ user12: and the "I guess I won't wear a helmet anymore"?? bro is down bad from the start

yn_thebrainiac: thank you for the opportunity! landonorris it was great meeting you ❤️ hope to see you again soon liked by landonorris and worldscollide_pod

↳ landonorris: just let me know when and where 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

user13: landonorris is that guy who suddenly becomes a comedian whenever a pretty girl is around

↳ user14: but it DID work on yn_thebrainiac 😭😭😭

user15: not yn_thebrainiac answering questions like it's a presidential debate and Lando going idk man I just drive

user16: Lando asking the hosts to repeat the question because he was too focused on yn_thebrainiac? man's not beating the simp allegations anytime soon

user17: that whole episode felt more like a date than a talk show liked by worldscollide_pod

↳ worldscollide_pod: were we more wingmen or a third wheel?

user18: the way both of them were invested in each other's stories made me realize how utterly single I am

↳ user19: when yn_thebrainiac said it's a force of habit to ask how something made him feel and then Lando casually asking her the same thing??? delete Tinder, no dating app will get you a man like this

user20: can I just say how surprised I am with Lando's thoughtfulness? Like when yn_thebrainiac said she's scared to drive after examining an accident victim and he immediately offered to be her driver?

↳ user21: considering the tales of Lando's driving, it will only traumatise her further lol

user22: Lando telling her to continue because he wants to hear the rest of the story when she apologized for getting sidetracked??? 🥺🥺 mom, I want this one!!!!!

user23: they just met and they have more chemistry than some couples who have been married for decades

↳ user24: if Lando was staring at me the way he's staring at yn_thebrainiac I'd be radioactive 📛☢️ ↳ user25: no but really girlies if he doesn't look at you the way Lando's looking at her, he's not the one 🏃‍♀️‍➡️❌

user26: now I kinda want yn_thebrainiac to take up Lando on his offer to test his cognitive skills

↳ user27: if they're in the same room he's going to fail every attention task

user28: Lando's dolphin ass giggle would make you think yn_thebrainiac is the funniest person on Earth

↳ user29: he's just a girl 🎀���

user30: I became a fan the moment yn_thebrainiac said "imagine your head is a hairy watermelon with a ball of jello inside"

↳ user31: as a med student I can tell you that it's pretty accurate

gossipgirl_f1 just posted a picture:

🚨🚨🚨McLaren's most eligible bachelor landonorris not eligible anymore? 🚨🚨🚨The driver has been spotted in Japan getting comfortable with an unnamed girl.

user32: didn't yn_thebrainiac post she's there too?

↳ user33: oh god please let it be real ↳ user34: it's definitely her

user35: people out there living my dreams 🥲

user36: why do yall even care?? he's a grown ass man, grow tf up

↳ user37: and yet here you are commenting 😴😴 like what are YOU doing at the devils sacrament?

user38: where's the FBI when you need them we have to knowww

↳ user39: that's yn_thebrainiac she had the exact same outfit in the story she posted earlier

user40: come look girl user41 someones stealing your man

↳ user41: aw hell naw she better know how to fight ↳ user42: wow the delulu is strong with this one

user43: look what yall did worldscollide_pod liked by worldscollide_pod

↳ user43: i guess that's a confirmation huh

landonorris tagged yn_thebrainiac in a post:

Japan treated us nice but she treats me nicer 🌸🇯🇵

Comments:

user44: so they met and fell in love because they were randomly invited to do a random episode of a random podcast? and people still say God ain't real smdh

↳ user45: they better not forget to invite worldscollide_pod to their wedding

user46: guess he'll fuck anyone, when's my turn?

↳ user47: probably never, considering you're no one rather than anyone💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

oscarpiastri: yes, they are as annoyingly in love as they look

↳ landonorris: woww and here I thought we were best friends ↳ landonorris: so rude ↳ oscarpiastri: I have group chat screenshots ↳ landonorris: you're my bestest friend Oscar and you're too nice to ever do this to me 🥰 ↳ maxverstappen1: we all have screenshots ↳ georgerussell63: you're cooked mate ↳ landonorris: 🥲🥲

user48: I would sacrifice my firstborn for this 😭😭

user49: I'm not sure who I am more jealous of

↳ user50: both

user51: they look so good together wtf

user52: worldscollide_pod you guys need to fix your post, what neuropsychologist and a f1 driver have in common is a marriage certificate

user53: ok real question how did he pull her??

↳ user54: he's a millionaire he doesn't have to do anything lol women's ideal type is a loaded wallet ↳ user55: bold of you to assume someone like her needs a walking piggy bank

yn_thebrainiac tagged landonorris in a post:

Hey, did you know that it was a Japanese scholar, Hiroshi Kojima, who popularized phenomenological ontology? He proposed that the dichotomy of individuality vs consciousness could be solved by treating the body as a half-way point between those two concepts. In essence, Kojima suggested considering the body as being seen both from the inside and the outside, now focusing on the intersubjective encounters as part of what constitutes the human being in the context of ontology.

Ps. He promised to wear his helmet! 🌼💖

Comments:

user56: she's everything, he's just Ken😌💅liked by landonorris

↳ georgerussell63: facts

user57: I bet the pillow talk is baffling

↳ landonorris: nah she's too tired for that ↳ user58: 💀💀 bro you didn't have to do her like that

user59: if he breaks your heart I promise to shake his head real hard, repeatedly 🥰🥰

user60: 😬😬 do they not make them pretty anymore?

↳ user61: fr she doesn't deserve him 😐 sad ↳ user62: this relationship feels like a social experiment like what do you mean he chose HER???? Lando Norris settling for a 2/10 is not the news I wanted to read today ↳ user63: wow no wonder yall dads left 😭 she's a normal looking woman, did porn rot your peanut brains completely? go outside and interact with regular, non-photoshopped people and then come back

user64: they have nothing in common and yet they fit perfectly how?? i feel like I'm having a strokee

user65: diagnostic process videos bout to get lit now that there's a volunteer to draw clocks and memorize strings of random words

user66: why do they look like a disney movie couple

↳ maxverstappen1: he may or may not have called her princess on more than one occasion ↳ landonorris: you guys promised 🥲 ↳ oscarpiastri: no, we promised not to post the screenshots ↳ yn_thebrainiac: you mean the screenshots georgerussell63 just sent me? ↳ landonorris: good talk everyone I'll just go die of embarrassment if you don't mind ↳ yn_thebrainiac: I thought the things you said about me were kind of cute ↳ landonorris: nvm I'm back to life