#🍉v

[cloverstarsys]

(This entire intro post is quite out of date; we will update at some point and just straight-up remake it. Assume everything is inaccurate minus our boundaries/dni. So to save you time: no anti-endos (neutral is on thin ice), no rqs and/or transids or active supporters of either (neutral is fine, supporting but not posting about it is on thin ice), and no nsfw-focused blogs. There's no reason to read the rest of this right now. )

Hey there! We're the Clover Star System. We're an at least partially endogenic system--We're not in a place to explore that so we will be sticking to calling us endogenic--of 22 (or 19, depending on how you count).

Edit: our main blog is @pastelwolfy so follows will come from there!

We have a website! At the moment, it isn't very mobile-friendly, despite how hard we tried lol. And we don't have images of us added yet. But outside of that, it's complete!

There's a list on the website about our boundaries and stances, but the main things to be aware of (outside of the standard dni stuff) are just these two: no anti-endos, and no nsfw-focused blogs. We are bodily a minor.

Tag details are under the cut. All tags are used on this for navigation purposes, but keep in mind we recently (as of making this post) changed our tag system so this won't help in finding older posts.

Our tag system is simple: the headmate's emoji and then their name. That's it.

The list is:

#🐾ace

#📷charlotte

#✨️cosmic

#💧franziska von karma

#☄️galaco

#⏳️karyl

#🐬kokomi

#✒️komi

#🧋laimu

#🕊lumine

#⚒️martin

#🍀mikoto

#⚡️neru

#🪄onyx

#🌸pastel

#🔥raven

#🐈‍⬛roxi

#🌪xiao

#⭐️yuzuki

#❄️zakai

And some that may not ever be used (due to dormancy):

#💎ia

# ️☁️neka

#🍉v

#🧶caeluse

#🎮fidget

[mo-ok]

[png-magician]

[aces-and-angels]

title: do not fall apart before they do. tiktok originally made by umnia_ video transcript below the cut

[ID: With the magnitude of what has been happening in Gaza in the last 8-9 months, I really hope you guys deeped it when people of color were trying to tell you to pace yourselves- because now is around the time a lot of you are going to start *clicks tongue, slashes hand over forehead* Like, there's going to be yet another tragic massacre right in front of you on your screen- and you're just not gonna react because you're burnt out. and that's when they get you. This is- this is an endurance test.

Colonialism *laughs* and- and death and destruction. Necropolitics is an endurance test. How many people can we kill before you tap out on even seeing them as people? Until you- until you don't get it. Until you just- it no longer registers. How many people does it need to be? 300,000? 400? It- they will just keep going.

They don't see them as people. So what- what avenue do they have to stop? What avenue do they have to go, "oh, my god!" Like- they don't have one. They don't see these- they see them as- they don't even see them as numbers on a sheet. They don't think of these massacres by the numbers. Everyone else has to do the numbers. They don't even see the numbers. They're thinking in terms of the spreadsheet that has the bombs and the money on it. They're not thinking about the people, ever.

200 people? Okay *muttered speech* They have this double tap thing (which is a violation). It's a war crime where they go, "We'll do a little small explosion here. Everyone will run to try and try to save everybody- and we'll do another one." That would've horrified you in October, and now you're just like, "Yeah, cause it's Israel." That's how they get you. That's how they get you! That's how they get you.

(speaker mimicking others' most common comments) Well, what are we supposed to do? They say it's a civil war in Sudan. Wha- how am I meant to boycott gold like that? How does that even work? Like- I'm being asked to boycott so many things.

This- this is- this is when people of color have told you all of the different pitfalls. It was for the moment here- this moment- where Meta keeps switching off the political content even when you switch it back on again. It's for the "I haven't seen anything about Palestine in like, four days." It's for the "they- they bombed the school and they burned all the kids inside- all the kids." And you go, "Yeah- I mean, god, Israel- just- is there no low they won't stoop to?" It's for that moment. It's for that moment. That's when they get you. That is when they get you. That is when they get you.

And it's now no time for half measures. You've gotta be "October heated" about every single moment. And some of that means that you don't tap in until like 2 PM each day. Or you have- you cannot be guilty about the one or two things you do a day that are for you. You don't have to feel guilty about the week where you are just silent reposting and getting your mental back because at least you're doing something.

Like- that is how you maintain your humanity as they keep going. Because they can't- they don't- they won't stop. And if you can keep up with them, they run out of money, and that's when you can get them. And there's no recourse for them anymore. They need someone at every single speech going, "You're funding a genocide." They need everyone turning up to vote against them.

They- there's so many different avenues that mean you don't have to sacrifice your daily coffee and your nice little bubble bath to ruin their lives when they do this- when they kill this amount of people. You can really disrupt stuff. Even if it just means that your one action for the whole week is explaining to all your co-workers why that person who shouted at Jimmy Kimmel is an icon. That's the- that's the one.

Because finally- one day they run out of money- they run out of goodwill. They are worn down by the fact that you won't let this go, and they stop. You've disrupted their balls- you've disrupted their interviews- you've disrupted their money. Boycott, boycott, boycott. And eventually *speaker makes explosion sound* it all shuts down.

We're watching it shut down right now. That's why they're getting vicious. One might argue this entire assault is the final flamethrow of a dying empire. Do not let them guilt you into using everything you have in your power to maintain your humanity and stay in the fight. And that does not mean you have to be burning yourself out every day. It means sometimes that your only daily action is those instagram posts- those instagram stories. But you're still not stopping. No one's gonna shut you up.

Go as slow as you need to as long as you want. Do not stop. Because this is the moment. This is the moment that they're waiting for you to cave. They're waiting for you to burn out and to not- and to not see those kids as kids-- and to not see that granddad-- and to go, "What?! Another atrocity? What- another thing they're doing in the prison? What? Another thing? Ah, look at the dog! The dog they sent on the poor grandma."

You can't just be like *clicks tongue, slashes hand over forehead* and you can't just go like, "Why does no one care?!" You just have to beat them at the endurance test.

The- if you ever- if you ever-- I mean all people of color can do this for you, but if you ever need an example of an endurance test, pay attention to Palestinians. Follow Palestinians. They have been in this for a time- a length of time you cannot fathom. There are people who have been born into this who were born of people who were born into this, okay? They know endurance. Follow their lead. They're still graduating. They're still having their coffees. They're still doing their makeup, and--

And you just keep going. Just keep going. Just keep going. Just keep going. Because the thing is, you can- you can maintain your sanity. They cannot maintain this. This cannot go on forever. This will end up falling apart, but only if you don't fall apart first. END ID]

[teapotgremlin]

The way they've handled s4 so far is interesting. They've weaved various plot points throughout the episodes, but it feels scattered, like lots is constantly left hanging.

[thatonebored-juniorcolleague]

Heloo

Im wafaa from Gaza

I need your help if you can

Please donate to save my life and my family 🍉🇵🇸

Asking for help is not easy, I ask for a small donation of only 20€ from each person, 20€ will save my family from death in Gaza 💔 Donate through the link in bio (gofundme) Together, we can achieve our goal within a day and provide crucial support to me and my family in Gaza. Your contribution means everything to us and in these difficult times your kindness is our greatest hope. We are very grateful for any assistance you can provide and thank you for your kindness and generosity in our time of need

https://gofund.me/27fab415

Hi Wafaa, thank you for reaching out 🙏🙏 I hope you and your family can reach your goal and get out of Gaza safely!

And to you guys: I know I'm not too big of a blog, but I need help in spreading the word 🙏🙏 Let's all help Wafaa reach the goal. Every bit of help counts 💕💕

[littlemessengers]

Hello V! Thank you for taking the time to come check in!

-🍉

Thank you for giving me something to check in on!

-V

[seo-changbinnies]

i literally have no idea of what i just read under that felix post but it did make me laugh so c: thank you for the laughs marie 💖

my dream last night <3 it was wild and i think i’m forgetting like a fourth of it hehe 💞💞

[abdallah-gaza]

Very important, please give me a minute of your time and read my story.❤️🍉🇵🇸

My previous account was banned, you can, it was starting to spread and my campaign got attention but unfortunately it was banned, you can see it from HERE

I will rewrite my story again. I hope you read it carefully and help if you can.

I am Abdullah Musa, I am 20 years old. I am still a young man. I do not have any job and I cannot get money. It is unfortunate to ask for money in this way, but that is life.

The campaign started after hesitation and deep thinking, but I saw myself forced to do this campaign for several reasons. The first and most important reason is to evacuate from war, fear, and the terrifying sounds of bombs and planes, to escape from living in a tent, to escape from fear. I want a life in which there are only the basics (water, food, electricity, internet, and safety).

The second goal, which is very important to me, is to study medicine and complete my dream that I had since childhood. I had started my first year of university and I was planning my future and dreams, but everything went away when the war came and destroyed my university. Yesterday, I started studying in Egypt and my friend sent me a picture from the beginning of the school year. It was a sad feeling.

This is a picture of me when I was a kid and my dreams were there.

You can donate to me through:

(Before you donate, remember that you will change my life for the better.

1. GFM

2. PAYPAL

VITTED BY

1. @90-ghost LINK VITTED

2 . Gaza Fundraiser List by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi . LINK315

@awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @junglejim4233 @heritageposts @pcktknife @chososhairbuns @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness

@visenyasdragons @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda

@4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural

@northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @sygol @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @ot3 @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @a-shade-of-blue

@tortiefrancis @tsaricides @flower-tea-fairies @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @feluka @nabulsi @khizuo @transmutationisms

@schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry

[beansprean]

AND THAT'S A WRAP ON WWDITS FILMING...[wails loudly]

I hope these actors know how much they have done for me, specifically. And how many times I have drawn their dumb faces dkjfhk.

Please consider donating to Medical Aid for Palestine! It's what Kayvan would want. :) 🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of Guillermo and Harvey Guillén on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Harvey!' Harvey's skin is slightly tanner than Guillermo's, his hair is sun-bleached and curling freely over his forehead, and he is wearing a blue knit crop top and denim overalls. He is hugging Guillermo from behind with his chin on his shoulder, grinning up at the viewer. Guillermo, wearing a white shirt and brown patterned cardigan, is cupping Harvey's hands with his own over his chest and looking at him with a fond smile, cheeks pressed together.

2. Waist up of Nandor and Kayvan Novak on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kayvan!' Kayvan's skin is a rich brown against Nandor's vampire pallor and his half-up hair and slightly longer beard are graying; he is wearing a dangly gold earring in his left ear and is wearing a lime green button up tee with a red watermelon pattern. He has picked Nandor up in a hug with his arms wrapped around his waist. Nandor, wearing a long brown kaftan under a orange diamond-patterned coat with short furred sleeves, has his right hand braced on Kayvan's shoulder and the other wrapped around his back. They are both grinning widely and looking at the viewer.

3. Waist up of Nadja, Nadja doll, and Natasia Demetriou on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Natasia!' Natasia is lightly tanned and has chest wavy length hair with bangs, dark brown at the roots with honey brown and blonde highlights throughout. She is wearing a periwinkle skirt and bandeau top with an outer layer of translucent chiffon in the same color, along with poofy off-shoulder chiffon sleeves, several rings, and a thin chain necklace with her name on it. Nadja and Dolly are matching in dark blue v neck gowns with a gold pattern and front buttons, their hair half up in twin horns. Nadja is grinning at the viewer, fangs out, and leaning heavily into Natasia's side, pressing their shoulders together. Dolly sits on their shared shoulder space, perched directly between their heads with her arms around them, smiling up at the viewer. Nadja's right arm is up under Dolly to support her legs. Natasia's right arm is bent upward like one might do to support a perching bird and her left is palming Dolly's knees to keep her in place. She is smiling over at the Nadjas, half bent over from their weight leaning on her.

4. Waist up of Laszlo and Matt Berry on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Matt!' Matt is pale (but clearly more alive than Laszlo), with wavy shoulder length hair streaked with gray and a graying beard that has been allowed to grow a bit further past his chin. He is wearing a plain white tee shirt, denim jacket, and silver chain necklace. Laszlo is wearing a red button up dashingly open at the collar under a dark blue waistcoat and lighter blue jacket with a darker damask pattern. They are standing mirrored, back-to-back with their arms crossed and shoulders pressed together, looking back over their shoulders at each other. Matt smiles at his character lazily while Laszlo offers him a mildly salacious smirk.

5. Waist up of Colin Robinson and Mark Proksch on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Mark!' Mark is standing facing the viewer with squared shoulders, wearing a blue and white plaid shirt with a chest pocket, only the top button undone. Were it not for the color and a slight shape change to his glasses, you wouldn't be able to tell him from his character. Colin is standing directly behind and to the right of him, wearing a brown v neck sweater over a beige collar and dull red tie. His head is tipped back and his mouth is open in a wide grin, eyes glowing bright blue behind his glasses. Mark glances at him from the corner of his eye with a slightly amused smirk.

6. Waist up of the Guide and Kristen Schaal on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kristen!' Kristen is pale in a human way with chin length curly brown hair and is wearing a loose empire waist black tank top under a translucent yellow chiffon top with a frilled neckline and elbow length balloon sleeves. The Guide is smiling open-mouthed at Kristen and wearing her usual black square cap, jacket, skirt, and gloves. They are back to back, elbows linked together to keep each other close, with Kristen leaning backward into the Guide so she stoops forward slightly. Kristen's far hand flashes a peace sign as she grins over at the Guide, tongue between her teeth. /end ID

[dirtyvulture]

I have been summoned...yk the drill, also I wasn't able to connect the recent one on vulture's feed but here ya go!

warning: a badly written smut

Your mission ended after two weeks. It means that Natasha has been edging herself for the past fourteen days since you were gone, and lucky for her, you're returning home today. She has been thinking of finally having you in your bed, planning on plowing you down the mattress—

The minute your warm mouth wraps around her cock, accompanying the warmth of your hands that are gripping her, the grip on your hair tightens, and a whimper escapes Natasha's mouth when she cummed inside your mouth. Natasha started blabbering an apology when she realized what just happened, but as much as you wanted to punish her, you couldn't help but let Natasha have her pleasure for a while, so you let her lead.

The sweat covering your bodies is incomparable to the mess you are both doing. Natasha holding your hands from behind while she's trying to fit her massive cock in your tightest hole. You could feel her stretching you out as you took her inch by inch.

"ty takaya uzkaya, printsessa." You're so tight, princess Her thick Russian accent slipped out of her tongue as her spurts covered your hole when she was halfway through her shaft. She couldn't fit herself fully, so she decided to just pump in and out of you, pushing her juice as far as she could inside you. The next thing she did was slip her drenched shaft inside your pussy that's been completely neglected by her since earlier. The low groans she's letting out always make your knees buckle just like hers right now. The hand that was binding your wrists together found its way on your hips as Natasha uses you like the fleshlight that was shown on the video message she sent a week ago before she completely left you unread after you sent tons of videos and photos of you playing with yourself once you're in the hotel room you stayed in.

"YA polozhu v tebya rebenka, dorogaya. Yebat'! Nichto ne sravnitsya s tvoyey kiskoy." I'll put a baby inside you, darling. Fuck! Nothing compares to this pussy of yours Your moans and the slapping of your skin are the only things that can be heard inside the room, but you're sure everyone in the compound knows what's going on inside your room especially after Tony called out Natasha to calm herself down when someone down there couldn't help but stand when the redhead saw you.

You knew that Natasha's deep inside you when she grabs one of your hand that's gripping the pillow and putting them on your lower abdomen. The bulge is prominent as she continuously fucks you until she empties herself once again inside. The string of Russian curses were muttered under her breath before she pulls out and thanked you.

"Oh, sweetheart. We haven't even started yet. Not after you disobeyed my orders."

-🍉

🍉 has outdone themselves, I'm frothing and foaming at the mouth

[dreamerdeity]

𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄 ('𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄)

*ೃ𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Il Dottore x Fem. Reader

*ೃ𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.2k

*ೃ𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Sleep deprived, overworked, a report requested by your Lord Harbinger. Just place it on his desk and leave–or take a nap on his luxurious leather couch before you do. What could go wrong? Well, a lot, apparently.

*ೃ𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: DARK CONTENT!!! Dead dove: do not eat. Somnophilia, non-con like straight up r*pe, subordinate x superior, scary delusional rationalizer-dottore, p in v, fingering (f. receiving), creampie, dottore thinks he's actually a nice guy, dottore is in fact just a creepy guy, dottore acts like a silly (like a psychopath), 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! others, please proceed at your own risk!

*ೃ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Hi lovelies! I meant to post this yesterday but had some things to take care of so didn't get around to it. This is a request part of @ficsforgaza 's kinktober event. DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE WARNINGS!! If my shit gets flagged one more time I'm going to kms. anyway, I hope you all enjoy dottore being a literal psychopath. byee :3

KEIRA'S FUNDRAISING EVENT 🍉

You walk through the east wing of the Sumeruan Fatui Research Facility, your eyes heavy and your senses numb from lack of sleep. The only sound that rings through your ears is the faint clicking of your shoes against the rubber flooring. 

The strong scent of antiseptic has always fared excellently in keeping you awake, and you thank the archons for its potent presence in this sterilized hallway as your eyes scan over the various signs plastered on the walls. Il Dottore, Il Dottore, Il Dottore. What turn should you take? What sign bears the arrow to his private laboratory? Frankly, if it were up to you, you would've shoved the responsibility of delivering this report to Lord Dottore onto Mikhael, but he feared the harbinger even more than you did, so here you were, left to take one for the team while sleep deprived, cranky, nervous, and somewhat afraid all at once.

It was a bit of a long walk–marked by frustrated sighs and irritated mutters of disapproval at your own dull sense of direction–to Dottore's personal lab, and you weren't even sure he would be there. He's always been the most eccentric of the harbingers, which is then, relatively, extremely eccentric, and his work hours never conformed to normal people's. You round a corner and turn one last left, before a large fortified iron door faces you ever so imposingly, a towering frame that stands a solid ten feet above you, and you sigh in relief. "Il Dottore" painted in bright white slashes across the door, and you hesitantly stretch your hand out–to knock... or maybe to open the imposing slab of metal. A second passes, and as it turns out, you don't have to choose, because the door slides open automatically, a faint mechanical whirr resounding throughout the premises.

You stride in quickly. A sickeningly sweet scent permeates the air around you, the fragrance wafting off the incense sticks burning at the harbinger's desk. You fleetingly wonder how on earth he could stand the oppressively strong smell, but that doesn't matter right now. Dottore isn't here, you have the report in your hand, tucked neatly into a blue folder (Dottore insisted all papers delivered to him must be so in blue folders only. Not green, not yellow. Blue). All you had to do was set it on your Lord Harbinger's desk and get the hell out of here before he returned. Otherwise, you'll be stuck with intense heart palpitations as he questions you about one thing or the other, or goes on a philosophical rant that you didn't ask to hear while laughing manically as his terrifyingly sharp fangs glint under the white light.  Yup, no way. So, you set the folder onto the pristine oak desk, eyes still heavy and head pounding from your lack of sleep.

A soft breath of relief furls past your lips as soon as the folder hits the desk, and then, you try to turn on your heel and get out of here. Keyword: try, because just as you resign yourself to leaving, your gaze strays to the long, plush, brown leather sofa seated at the corner of the office-meets-laboratory. Fuck, that looks comfortable–no, what in the world were you thinking?! Get out, you mentally scream at yourself. 

Yet, the more logical part of your brain has shut down, and a tired sigh leaves you as you stumble over to the couch. Just a second. You're so, so sleepy. Just a second and then you'll leave, you think, and plop onto the cushions. Your mind is blank, and your limbs feel like they're weighed down by lead. You blink slowly, your body sinks into the soft leather. This sofa must have cost your entire annual salary, what with how comfortable it is. A faint moan bubbles up your throat at the feeling of being engulfed in softness like this, and your eyelids droop. Before you can register, you're slipping away, into the inescapable depths of sleep.

Out like a light. 

It could've been 10 minutes, it could've been an hour, or it could've been all day, but at some point, your name is called, and you're too deep into the recesses of unconsciousness to process it as a word. All it manifests as is a distant voice spinning around your head.

Dottore had trudged into his lab after a rather exhausting day of fieldwork, of examining poisonous flower samples on the outskirts of Avidya Forest with the diligence of the... scientist he was. The deep velvet of his voice uttered your name, and when he received no response, he hummed to himself. He continues to stand over you now, gazing down with the eyes of a predator and the smile of a fox

"Didn't see you there," he mutters to himself more than anything, because, from the looks of it, you're in slumber. His eyes observe the scene before him. The way your chest rises and falls rhythmically, the way your rosy lips are parted just a bit, and the way the moonlight filtering in through the windows catches on the curve of your cheekbones. The inviting sight before him has him licking his lips and adjusting the collar of his coat.

"How lovely..."

The inviting sight, because yes, that's what it was, you were inviting him to indulge, weren't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, asleep on his couch, in his space, blouse unbuttoned once or twice at the top. You know what you're doing, aren't you? He's not the bad guy for just... taking the hint, if you will. His hands twitch at his sides, and his smile widens. You're sleeping, and if you saw the terrifyingly sinister grin on his face right now, you would've thanked the archons for sparing you its sight by letting it stretch upon his lips now that you are asleep, unable to see it.

As though he were debating whether to go about whatever evil he was about to, he crosses his arms over his chest, gaze locked on your form and brow furrowed in thought. He wasn't thinking about the depravity of his potential actions and the psychological harm they may cause you later on. No, no. He didn't have a conscience loud enough for that kind of thought to grace his mind. He was simply thinking about the logical implications. It was... unprofessional–to say the least–to grope your subordinates in their sleep, and should word get out about it, the Second Harbinger will never hear the end of it–especially not from Pantalone. It could jeopardize his relationship with all the investors who fund his research. It could also get him in a pickle with Arlecchino, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with that crazy woman for at least the next century.

But it was dark outside. You were asleep, and he had the whole night to himself. It wasn't his fault, and if you were to awaken, well, it's not like you were going to tell. Oh, he'll make sure of that.

His decision is made, and without a single thread of doubt left in his mind, he crouches by your side, eyes locked on your slumbering face. The smile that stretches along his lips is one reserved for moments like these, for moments when he silently observes the unconscious features of those that fall into his predacious hands. There was always something about unconsciousness that stirred something in him. He was fascinated by the human brain, but he was also fascinated by the unadulterated powerlessness of an unconscious human. It gave him a power trip of sorts, knowing he was the lion and the slumbering were the deer. He chuckles to himself as his eyes fall upon the trail of drool at the corner of your lips, a sound so quiet and smooth that it could have melted butter.

"Don't worry, agent. I'll be... gentle," his words are spoken softly, yet they hold the same venom that his actions always do. They're meant for the both of you. "I won't hurt you."

He won't, will he?

Well, that was for him to know and for you to find out–should you awaken. His gloved hand, gentle but firm, snakes under your head and props it up, and his other hand is busy pushing the buttons of your blouse apart, one by one, until your raven-black bra meets his gaze. He breathes out in a soft exhale, a sound too tranquil for a man of his reputation, and his hand gently tips your face toward him. He meets your face halfway, scanning his sharp eyes over your sleeping features for a moment, his breath warm against your skin, though you can't feel it in your drowse. Slowly, almost like he was deliberately holding himself off, he lets his lips brush against yours, and then he tests the waters some more, giving them a light kiss. You subconsciously shift at the contact, but you're still asleep, and that's enough reassurance for him to go further, letting his teeth graze your lower lip. 

You taste like candy; sweet, soft, and addicting. You're an aphrodisiac, aren't you? He wonders, and his tongue prods at the seam of your lips, begging entrance, but it doesn't take. A soft, almost inaudible growl emanates from him, and the distant feel of his tongue has your breathing stuttering, a whimper bubbling up from your throat, but you don't wake, and that has his pants feeling a lot tighter than they were a few seconds ago.

"tsk," he grumbles against your lips. He's not sure if he wanted you asleep or awake right now. There was a thrill he felt in his veins when he teetered on the edge of danger like this, but there also seemed to be a thrill at the thought of having you awake for this, eyes wide in fear and lust all at once, soft implorations of "please let me go, Lord Dottore" falling from your lips like a mantra.

In the end, though, he'll have his way, and it doesn't matter what your state is. His tongue slips past your parted lips and invades the heat of your mouth, his sharpened canines grazing your tongue. His saliva, mixed with the residue of alcohol he had before heading back, drips down your chin and stains your blouse. If you were awake, you would've found the whole ordeal sloppy and wet, but since you weren't, all it felt like was warmth, and a foreign feeling, as his tongue prodded and probed your mouth. Your brows knit together, and a soft, unconscious moan escapes your lips, one that he greedily swallows. You're not so sure what's going on, still in a drowse that makes you think you're having some sort of insanely realistic wet dream. You hadn't slept in almost two days after all. Archons knew you weren't about to let anything wake you from your much-needed rest. 

Dottore retreats from your lips and pauses for a moment, eyes raking over your form as though his mind was scanning over all the choices of what to do to you next. 

"Ah," he says, like he was hit with a revolutionary idea. It wasn't so revolutionary, because the next thing that happens is the harbinger's hands finding their way to your chest, the cool leather of his gloves brushing against the bare patch of skin he revealed to himself when unbuttoning your blouse down three or four buttons. You shift again, and the movement has his fingers accidentally grazing over your bra-clad nipples. The sudden touch causes your body to arch and a low groan to rumble in the back of your throat. You were sensitive, he notes, and a grin tugs at the corner of his lips. 

But you see, Dottore was getting bored of his self-inflicted abstinence. He did tell himself he had all night earlier, but come to think of it, he actually doesn't. He wants it fast and rough, and he wants it now. So, he lets his hand trail down for a moment, shamelessly shoving it into your pants and letting his fingers play with your pussy over your panties.

"H-hnngh!" You gasp in your sleep, and if you were awake, you'd be able to almost feel the smirk he wears as he continues, a finger pressing insistently at your clit, even if the fabric of your underwear is in the way.

"Oh? Do you like this then, agent?" he asks, and the words are an almost inaudible whisper. The question is rhetorical, after all. He doesn't give a flying fuck if you do like it, and he was talking himself through it more than he was you. 

Your head lolls to the side and a shaky breath leaves you. Your panties are subconsciously growing wet, an automatic bodily reaction to being touched here, and his finger doesn't relent. It's a good thing, however, that the friction of the thin fabric has you writhing, and the stimulation has him impatient, his fingers hastily moving to roughly pull your pants down, then to grip the fabric of your blouse, ripping it apart, buttons popping off the garment and onto the ground with soft clicks. The supple flesh of your torso is now exposed and open, and so are your eyes. It takes you a second to register what's going on. 

You're... lying on the sofa.

What time was it?

What are you doing here, exactly?

"W-what..." the words barely leave you, and suddenly, sleep has left you completely, the feeling of a heavy weight against your body taking its place, and the realization that a man is on top of you.

Your eyes snap open wider, and the first thing you see is Dottore's grinning, almost psychotic-looking eyes boring through you. 

"My Lord?!" you cry, and everything comes rushing back. You went to drop a report to the Lord Harbinger. You fell asleep on the couch in his laboratory.

"What are you doing?!" you demand as assertively as you can in a situation like this, but your voice shakes in fear despite your efforts.

"I could ask you the same question, agent," he hums, and his gloved fingers move to trail over the expanse of your breasts, fondling and groping with not a sliver of shame. "You were asleep when I came in, and so, I assumed, naturally, that you wanted me to do this. Why else would you have been so conveniently sprawled out on my couch, in the privacy of my lab, half-naked and vulnerable?"

"I-I didn't–I wasn't half naked," you try to defend yourself–with such a witless refutation too–but how could you possibly defend yourself? The harbinger was right. You were asleep on the couch in his private lab. Utterly disrespectful. And he caught you. Maybe this was karma–or just your luck. 

"Hush, now," he purrs, and his fingers slither behind your back to the band of your bra. You don't have time to react as the garment is pulled off you in one swift motion, tossed away and onto the floor, and then his hands are back on your tits, kneading the supple flesh, pinching your hardened nipples.

"My Lord–stop it, please," you plead, and you can't help the gasp that escapes you, the action shooting straight between your thighs, which clamp together as best as they can with Dottore straddling your waist with all his weight.

He was a scary man, Il Dottore, and even if he wasn't physically hurting you–for now–the sheer intensity of his gaze was enough to scare the shit out of you. You were utterly, hopelessly, and vulnerably at his mercy, and the worst part is, you have a feeling that not a single person in this whole 8-story facility would stand up for you. Not a single Fatui subordinate would dare.

"Stop? Oh, darling! But we haven't even started," he laughs, like what you just suggested was utterly ridiculous, and a shudder runs down your body.

"You know," he hums, leaning closer and lowering his head to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath. "You can scream–if you'd like. No one would hear." 

You have no time to retort, because Dottore's head dips to the valley of your breasts immediately, then his lips ghost over one of your nipples, swiftly taking the nub in his mouth. A sharp inhale rushes into your lungs, and a whimper threatens to spill from your throat. You're not quite sure if the feeling coursing through you is fear or lust or both, because it makes your stomach churn how good this actually feels. Your eyes are squeezed shut, and Dottore’s teeth graze the sensitive skin around your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity between your legs, then his tongue flicks over the hardening peak.

"Mmh," the moan bubbles up from the very back of your throat. 

"Oh? So... still want me to stop now, agent?" he muses, mockingly, and his free hand is back at your pussy, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the soaked fabric. Your hips buck up, so he takes that as a sign to push the garment aside, a finger sliding between your wet lips.

"No, my Lord," you gasp, and you can't believe the words that come out of your own mouth. Dottore's hand doesn't stop, and his thumb presses down on your clit, and a breathy, whiny moan escapes you.

"See? This isn't so bad, now, is it?" he doesn't give you any warning before his fingers dip into your wet pussy, the intrusion causing you to jerk. Your inner walls flutter around his fingers. His sharp canines dig into his lower lip.

"Aren't you a good little whore. So pretty and obedient for your Lord Harbinger," Dottore purrs, and his thumb begins to move against your clit, while his fingers curl and press insistently at your walls. Your legs tremble, a string of moans falls from your lips, and if anyone told you just an hour ago that the Second Lord Harbinger Il Dottore was going to finger you in his lab, you would've laughed and asked who the fuck would say something like that.

Alas, Dottore wasn't a patient man, so it's no surprise that he doesn't finger you long enough before his hands pull away from you entirely, and he "tsks" impatiently to himself. He has to have you now. He's been so, so nice. Hasn't he? Kind enough to prep you for him instead of plunging himself into you from the get-go. If anything, he thinks he deserves a pat on the back for his thoughtfulness. 

Swiftly, his hands reach under your thighs, and with an alarming amount of ease, he yanks you down and away from the cushion that sprawled beneath your head. Then, he's settling between your legs. A soft whimper is torn from your throat when the cold, metal buckle of his belt grazes the inside of your thigh. You watch, helpless, as his hands make quick work of his pants, unzipping the black uniform, and pushing them down just far enough to pull his cock out. You can't help but gulp at the sight, and the wideness of your eyes makes Dottore laugh out an almost sadistic-sounding string of giggles. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he hums, the term of endearment spoken so condescendingly. "You'll take it well. Won't you?"

His words aren't a question. They're a statement. An absolute, undeniable fact. An order. You'll take it well, whether you want to or not, and the knowledge has you almost making a run for the door, but the thought leaves you as fast as it came.

Dottore doesn't wait for a response that won’t come, or a plea for him not to do this, not to force his cock into your tight heat, and you're not quite sure why, but you don't find yourself objecting, or trying to kick him away. Maybe you were curious. Maybe this was a materialization of one of your own depraved fantasies. Or maybe you were just scared he'd kill you if you resisted.if you made a run for the door like you fleetingly thought just now. 

His fingers curl around the base of his thick cock, fist then sliding up and down in a few experimental pumps. The tip presses at your entrance almost desperately, and he's pushing the head into your tightness before you can process. He's a big man. The stretch burns. It has a hiss tearing from the back of your throat, and a pained grimace twisting your features.

"Shh," Dottore murmurs, his other hand reaching up to caress the side of your face almost soothingly, the action a stark contrast to the harshness of his current actions.

"Good, good," he whispers, his voice is sickeningly smooth, as though he were genuinely consoling you.

Then, just like that, his hips snap forward, not giving you time to adjust as the entirety of his cock is engulfed in the warmth of your pussy. You're clamping down around him, and it has him groaning lowly in his throat, his eyes squeezing shut, the grip of his hands that are now on your hips tightening.

"Agent," he sighs, and his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your sides. It'll leave a mark there. A reminder.

You're not quite sure where the burning pain had gone. All that remains is an aching desire, a desperate need, and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Your hands move, without a conscious command from your brain, and they rest on Dottore's shoulders, holding on tightly. The harbinger smiles down at you with sickening sweetness, no, not sweetness, mockery. Or maybe sweetness. God, you were a mess. Your mind was nothing but a blob of mush at this moment, and Dottore's hands shift to the underside of your knees, pushing your legs up and thrusting his cock even deeper at this new, utterly indecent angle. 

"My Lord!" the moan is punched out of you. His lips meet yours again, his sharp canines scraping over the sensitive flesh. Your hands slide to tangle into his hair, pulling and tugging at the soft blue strands. An almost whiny groan escapes the harbinger's throat at the action. His movements become more desperate. Fast and rough. So fast and rough you're scared you'll be split in two. The plush sofa under the two of you shakes and creaks. 

"So, so good," he whines, face contorted in pleasure, but as though he caught himself in his haze before it spiraled, his lips pull back into a domineering sneer. "Take it," he demands, and the words, combined with the obscene feeling of being filled to the brim, are enough to have your vision going white. You claw at Dottore's shoulders with desperate fervor. 

"L-Lord Harbinger. I think I'm going to–" 

"Do it," he commands with the struggle of a man on the brink of ecstasy, and he folds you even more. If you weren't agile–thanks to your agent training–you're sure you would've actually split into two by now. Back arching off the sofa, a string of incoherent, unintelligible moans escapes your throat. Your pussy clamps down around the thick cock stretching it, and a wave of pleasure courses through you, rendering your muscles numb.

The sight and feeling of you unraveling have Dottore following closely after, his movements becoming erratic and uncoordinated. It's a sight like never seen before; the normally ever so composed man crumbling like this, and then, he's spilling his hot cum into you, a guttural groan reverberating throughout his chest. He fills you to the brim until the warm white liquid leaks out of your aching pussy and stains the leather under you. 

A second passes, then two, then three, then a few seconds more. Dottore lets the head of his cock press against your insides one last time before pulling out. He sits back on his knees and regards you for a moment with an almost frightening calmness, and you open your mouth to try and say something, because why was he looking at you like you were nothing but the scum of the ground he walks on after literally cumming inside of you as some lover would?

"The couch will need some cleaning. I trust you can get that sorted tomorrow, agent?" He says finally with a cock of his head, voice level and calm as he climbs off of you and stands on his feet, tucking himself back into his pants as he nonchalantly hums a tune to himself, like this was just another day of fucking his subordinates in their sleep. And maybe it was; you didn’t know, but right now, you're still paralyzed in your spot, just staring at him, and so he turns to glance at you. "Get dressed. You're dismissed for today."

You can only gape, speechless, watching as Dottore turns his back to you once more and disappears into the microscopy workroom in his lab, a certain energized spring to his step.

What the fuck just happened?

The workroom's door closes behind him with a soft click, and he smiles to himself.

Ah, the thrill.

Now, it was time to get back to his research.

[storywriter007]

Hello! I just found your page and I really like your work!! Would you mind doing a Percy Jackson x reader where Percy and the reader are on the Argo II and he has to teach her how to fight and whenever he gets too close she tends to slip up because he is distracting (because she likes him!) And he notices. No worries if not but I would love to see your take on it!! Thank youuuuu

Here is some watermelon just for you! 🍉🍉🍉

You Didn't Know? - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: thank you for your request and the watermelon :) i hope you like it!!

warnings: cursing, fighting

genre: angst

word count: 1.3k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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"i can't do this." y/n whined, sitting on the floor.

"yes, you can." percy encouraged, wiping sweat off of his forehead.

the argo ll training room felt like her own personal hell. first off, she had to learn self-defense, which was the stupidest thing ever. she could use a dagger, a sword, a bow and arrow, and probably an axe. but, it was heavily encouraged for her to learn hand-to-hand combat. that landed her here. secondly, she was stuck in this room for hours a day. the wall lined with mirrors and the wall parallel to it lined with windows quickly became a jail. thirdly, she sucked at hand-to-hand combat. she was slower, less responsive, and weaker than she'd ever be with a weapon. especially, against percy.

and to make everything even more tortuous, she had a hopeless crush on the guy training her. but who wouldn't? a loyal, brave, thoughtful, and humorous guy who just so happened to be tall, lean, dark-haired, bright-eyed, and unnecessarily hot.

and unnecessarily committed. that's what made all of this so hopeless. percy had a girlfriend. so y/n's crushing would stay crushing, this wouldn't go anywhere.

call her evil, but maybe she had thought about an affair. she knew it was wrong. she knew it was wrong to have a crush on somebody else's boyfriend. she desperately tried to think of other things, but she couldn't. she had to accept the fact that she liked him, and that he had a girlfriend.

she stayed on the floor, unwilling to move.

"you were doing great." he praised. "you were fast, you knew what to hit, but then you just lost your concentration. it's like you just get distracted."

that was the biggest issue she had fighting with him. she always screwed up the minute she was close to him. the minute she felt his arm around her and his breath on her neck (even though he was very clearly trying to overpower her) and his grip on her body. he was the distraction.

"i know." she said, burying her face in her hands. "can we just call it a day? we've been in here for hours."

"not until you can push me off." he said, reaching his hand out.

she got up, feeling tired and sore. they'd been doing this for too long. they began fighting. it started with him quickly grabbing her from behind. she jabbed him with her elbow and he loosened his grip. then, she kicked him away with her foot, and turned around. he charged at her grabbing her arm, and forcing it behind her. she used her head to hit his neck and he went backwards. she quickly pushed him down to the floor.

his shirt flew up a little as he hit the floor and she saw his defined v-line. she could feel her face heating up. she quickly moved her eyes to his, and they were so beautiful. the perfect shade of green. they looked like the waters in italy. so enchanting,

suddenly, she felt herself get pulled down. she fell on her side, and before she knew it, her arms were pinned by her head as percy hovered over her. she wished this moment could have been under different circumstances, because dear gods, he was gorgeous.

"you did an awesome job." he said, backing off. "but, for some reason, you just get lost in the middle. you've gotten so close to beating me, but every time, something just messes with your head."

"maybe it's the fact i'm tired?" she asked, sitting up.

"it's like this when we start all the way 'til the end." he commented. "y'know, if something's on your mind, you can tell me. maybe i can help you, and you won't get distracted anymore."

"it's fine." she shrugged. "it's nothing. i'm just exhausted."

he looked at her for a moment. she was praying he believed her so she could lock herself in her room, pray to aphrodite for love, and than go to bed.

"yeah, but i've seen you fight with leo, frank, and jason."

"so what?"

"you beat all of them. frank and jason are taller and stronger than i am." he continued. "so how the hell are you winning against those guys, and only slipping up when you're around me?"

gods damn it, he was onto her.

"i just have more confidence with them." she reasoned, hoping he couldn't sense her internal panic. "it's nothing."

"wait, do i make you insecure?" he asked, concern filling his voice. "i'm sorry, i've never really been that good of a teacher, i don't really know what to say most of the time."

"you don't make me insecure." she laughed. "i told you, it's nothing-"

"then what is it?" he asked. "it's gotta be something. you don't just go win against guys like frank and jason and then lose to me."

from behind him, y/n could see annabeth pacing around outside. she was probably waiting for him. it was a bitter reminder this wasn't going anywhere.

he noticed the disappointment on her face and turned around to see his girlfriend pacing back and forth. she excitedly waved to him and he flashed a mischievous smiled back.

"fine, percy, since you really want to know what distracts me, it's you." she confessed. "i like you. i've liked you for years. and you don't care. it's fine."

he looked at her empathetically.

"y/n, i never knew-"

"shut the fuck up, you knew." she said, feeling an unrecognized feeling of hostility in her. "i know you're not stupid."

she was so angry. she was angry at him for growing closer to her. she was angry at the fact she liked him (and that made her a terrible person). she was angry that he had never noticed, or was at least claiming to. she was angry at the fact he had a girlfriend, one she could never compete with.

"i didn't know." he defended.

"you didn't know?" she chuckled. "so when i would give you freshly-baked cookies for every holiday for four years, you didn't know? when i visited you every day in the infirmary when you were sick, you didn't know? when i longingly stared at you from across the campfire, you didn't know? when i asked you if you wanted to watch the fireworks together, you didn't know?"

his eyes twisted into another emotion. the one of guilt.

"and instead of having the balls to tell me, 'y/n, we're good friends, but i don't like you that way,' you decided to lead me on for years?" she asked, appalled at the fact one of her dear friends would lead her on like this.

"i never knew you did all of that because you liked me, i thought you did all of that because we're friends." he defended. "when you put it all together-"

"it becomes really fucking obvious. i know, percy, i know."

"i'm sorry." he said quietly. "i should've said something."

"it's fine. i see how it is now." she confirmed. "we're not friends. we never have been. i've just been some girl, hopelessly following around a guy, waiting for him to give me a chance."

"that's not true." he frowned. "you know that's not true."

"all i know is that we're not friends. we never have been. and to be honest," she paused, looking for the words. "i don't think we will be."

she got up and began walking out the training room. he followed her.

"y/n." he called out to an empty spirit.

he called out for her, waiting for her to stop and turn around. waiting for her to come back and talk things out with him, the way she always did.

she kept walking. she'd followed him around for years.

he could return the favor.

[aces-and-angels]

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[devskindawritingblog]

Hand in Hand

cate dunalp x fem/gn reader Click to help Palestine 🇵🇸 🍉

summary: The first time that Cate touches you without her gloves on. Basically pure fluff.

AN: I’ve been wanting to write for Gen V or the boys so this is my first one!! My own idea, it’s not an original idea obviously I’m sure someone else has thought of it but it’s my own words.

word count rounded: 1.9k

Since her first day at God U Cate has tried desperately to fit in. After being locked away from the world for so many years, she was desperate for some time of human interaction beside her parents, not that her parents paid her much attention. She was conditioned into keeping on her gloves at all times. After her brother, Cate was sure that she didn’t even trust herself without them. So she rarely took them off around people she cared about.

After some time, she got used to the idea that the gloves were a part of her now. She had multiple pairs, and she even got a pair as a little Christmas gift. As thoughtful as it was, opening a gift and seeing those gloves was almost upsetting. She tried so hard to gain trust in her friends and peers, and still, she knew better than to try. For the first time in her life, she had friends and people who cared about her.

And then she met you…  

It was her second year in her superhero management class. You weren’t friends per se, but you were friendly. The first day of that class, you arrived late because your roommate had unplugged your alarm clock to charge their laptop. Funnily enough, they were the ones to wake you up by being way too loud. You sprung out of bed and threw on an outfit, barely having enough time to get yourself ready before you ran to class.

 You were only a few minutes late when you swung open the door and awkwardly closed it behind you as the class turned around to look at you. The teacher welcomed you back, ushering you to sit down. The only spot left was next to Cate. You walked over to her, placing your bag down under the table and taking your seat. She glances over at you, giving you a small smile. 

“Hey… You're Cate, right?” You say turning to look at her. She looks back with a look you can’t quite place. "Yeah, you're not new. I’ve seen you in my other classes." She states, quirking her brow. “Oh… yeah.. Sorry. It's my second year; I just don’t do well with starting conversations…. And it would be best if I didn’t call you the wrong name." You say, laughing awkwardly. Luckily, she laughs back, smiling a little as she brings her attention back to the prof.

It might have been short, but that interaction stuck with you for days. You knew her name; everyone knew her name. You just wanted to talk to her, and you weren't always the smoothest at flirting. But that new spot in your class next to the prettiest girl was enough to make you wake up early every other day. Soon your “friendly” awkward interactions in class became group projects together and movie nights in her dorm room. 

The two of you became "close,” almost best friends in a sense. You had countless sleepovers in her dorm. At the start, you were so nervous to sleep in that tiny bed next to her, so you slept on the floor with a few blankets and pillows. After a few uncomfortable nights, Cate invited you onto her bed. You were a little hesitant, but after you got into that small ass bed together and she watched you with those sparkling eyes, you loved it. 

 The small bed was scary at first, but after countless nights, you grew closer and closer. Not even closer as friends, but as the sleepovers became more frequent, you became closer literally. You used to be scared of touching her, even if you weren’t the one with mind control. You both slept on both edges of the bed, shoulder to shoulder. That was until Cate had a pretty shitty day and had invited you over. The both of you watched a movie on the couch together. You knew that there was no way she would touch you first, so you decided to rip off the bandage. 

"Hey, Hey…you okay?"  You ask softly, nudging her out of her trance. Her eyes snap over to you before she awkwardly adjusts herself, scooting further into the soft couch. “ y-yeah….” she says before you raise your eyebrow, reaching over to take her gloved hand in yours. “Okay…… I’m not. I just had a shitty day. Class was slow, and honestly, I really needed this." Cate sighs and smiles. You give her hand a little squeeze, and she is suddenly brought back to her hand. 

She looks down at your hands and back at your face. You had already turned back to the movie, so Cate laced her gloved fingers with yours as you lay your head on her shoulder. She stiffens a little but quickly relaxes as she wraps her arm around you as well. That soon transforms into tangled limbs and lingering touches. Those movie nights turned into make-out sessions after you asked Cate to be your girlfriend. 

You'd come over, and Cate would put on some Vought movie; somehow there was always a new movie to watch. Not that you were complaining; the two of you would only make it through the first 10 minutes before she scooted into your lap. She would always tighten her gloves, ensuring that she wouldn't slip up. You would always notice, but you never really commented on it. You knew it was a touchy subject for her, and you didn’t want to upset her. 

 The two of you have been dating for a few months, and you knew she was always so nervous about letting herself touch you. But after seeing the real Cate, your Cate, the Cate who loved movie nights and order in pizza and you, she knew she could just be herself and trust you; she just wasn’t sure she could trust herself yet. The idea that she would somehow take advantage of you or influence your feelings would cause her mind to race. She hated the possibility that she would hurt you and that you would break up with her and leave her alone. It haunted her nights, and tonight was one of them.

You had come over like usual for “movie night." It had become a weekly thing for you and Cate, almost like a date night type of thing. A night to wind down and forget about all of the assignments the two of you have. You were both lounging on the couch, wrapped up in a cozy blanket. Your fingers carded through her soft hair as you laid her head on your shoulder. You're both scrolling through all the movies you can watch before you hear three knocks at her door. Cate gasps, sitting up quickly off your shoulder, her eyes darting to the door and then back to you. 

“The food’s here!” Cate squeals, kissing you on the cheek before she bounds toward the door. Slowing down to a stop before she swings open the door. She pays the poor driver who had to find his way around the campus. She shuts the door behind her and makes her way back over to the couch as you clear the table. Cate places the warm paper bag on the table, taking out the food as you both ramble on about how hungry you are. 

Cate slips off her gloves and places them next to her on the couch. She took off her gloves sparingly, especially around other people. But she never liked getting her gloves dirty. The two of you ate together, discussing what movie the two of you should "watch." As the two of you finish eating, you clean up the bag and sit down next to Cate for the movie to start. She quickly reaches for her gloves, but you stop her. 

“Cate”. You say softly as you lean over, grabbing her arm, careful not to hurt her. “You don’t need to wear those around me." You say as Cate looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she blinks. “What? But… What if I can’t control it? I..I sent my brother away. What if I hurt you too?”. She says, turning back at you. 

“You won't. Cate, I trust you so much. You're my girlfriend, and I know you don’t like them. I mean, you always complain about your hands being sweaty." You say, sincerely laughing a bit at the end as she rolls her eyes. “I'm being serious though; I trust you more than anything, Cate....and if you want, you never have to wear your gloves around me." You say, making sure she knows that you are being serious.  

Cate sighs “I-I don’t know, babe. I really don’t want to lose you." She says as she looks between her gloves and you. “You won't; I believe it. I really do. But if it's too much, we can take it slow, you know. I'm not saying we have to hold hands skin to skin." You ramble on before she cuts you off. “I-I want to. I want to." She repeats herself more firmly as she sighs, clearly contemplating. “I want to. I want to hold your hand and feel your skin against mine." She says as she puts down her gloves.

 “You sure?” You ask, to make sure that Cate is 100% ready. “I’m sure”. She repeats it back. You smile and reach out your hand, and Cate scoots closer to you, hesitantly taking your hand. You intertwine your fingers with hers, and as you both relax, she starts to smile. “This is nice, and I'm not controlling you…right?" Cate says nervously giggling as you nod .She lets go of your hand, holding it in her other hand as she traces the lines on your palm. You smile back and lean forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

It almost opens a new part of Cate, a part that is vulnerable and not worried about hurting you. She smiles and reaches up both her hands to cup your face before she pulls you into a kiss. You kiss her back as she pushes a strand of hair away from your face. You sigh softly before leaning forward again to give her a kiss on the nose. She smiles back and shifts to sit in your lap. You push back on the couch, opening your arms as she settles onto your thighs. 

“Comfy?” You ask as she settles, and you give her a little pat on her thigh. “Yeah…it's perfect”. She sighs, grabbing your hand again and running her fingers along your palm. “Your skin is soft." Cate comments as she runs her fingers along your arm and then up to cup your jaw. “I put on lotion, I guess." You say, laughing a bit at the weird change of subject. She giggles back as she continues to run her fingers down your arm, tracing random swirls and shapes.

“Can we stay like this... all night?” She asks, tucking her head into your shoulder. “Sure, whatever you want, baby." You smile, turning your head to give her a kiss on the cheek. You grab her hand, and she intertwines her fingers with yours. The two of you relax as the movie continues to play in the background.