#Co-Con

[doin-just-fine]

How it feels to be us.

For questioning systems, specifically those who do not fit the typical DID/OSDD criteria, this will be an in depth dive into how our brain works as we understand it right now!

Bellow is all of us, The Super Fine System. 🛸 DoinFine (23) is on top and from left to right is ☁️ Cloud (~22) , 🌾 Summer (24) and 🧸 Bean (~8).

This is how we "appear in the head space". Technically, we don't have a visual headspace and we don't literally see each other. For us it's kind of like wondering around a space with the light turned off but we all have psychic proximity so we can sense each other when we're in proximity to each other. Even more technically, only DoinFine has psychic proximity in this way and I🛸 don't actually know what everyone else experiences up here.

🛸 I am a front stuck host. It's like I'm plugged in to the front. We call it being stuck in the chair because it's an easy way to explain it but I don't actually feel stuck in a literal chair. I just sort of feel glued in place. I feel like I am the front. Some systems talk about a control panel. I feel like I am the control panel. All I can really do is experience the outside world, sense when someone else is close to the front with my psychic proximity, and imagine what certain events that unfold in my head look like visually to kind of help make sense of it.

🛸 The thing about being front stuck is that I can never leave so we don't have traditional amnesia. What we do have is difficulty with memory recall but usually we'll get there eventually with enough description from an outside party and Emotional Amnesia. The best way to describe Emotional Amnesia is as if you're rewatching a movie but now the movie has no sound and is in black and white. Or like you're watching the movie from way across the room and through really thick glass.

🛸 The other thing about being front stuck in such a permanent way is that no one else can fully front. They all have to through me. This is why I feel like the control panel sometimes is because everyone has to operate and filter through me. This turns Cloud, Summer, and Bean into this:

Here are the originals for comparison.

🛸 Like I said before I can't see anybody nor can I hear anybody. But through the psychic proximity I can feel them and I can feel their vibe, emotions, and if their close enough or "touching" me I can hear them. Example: making these picrews was me making them and doing what I think they'd like and then feeling their reaction. It's genuinely fascinating because I will add something that I think looks good and I'll pause and tune in and feel, especially from Cloud, the vibe of "No, I don't like that." and if I'm really not doing a good job I'll hear a "I would never wear that." I don't actually hear another voice it's more of a passing thought and opinion that very much differs from my own. Thats how we figured out what everyone looks like.

Back to the filtered versions of my head mates. Some systems would describe this as being blurry, blendy, or just co-con. We feel blendy would fit this best. we know for some systems, like our partner system, blended alters can be their own solid individuals with unique names, pronouns, thought, and feelings. However, this is not the case for all systems and definitely not for us. The level of blended changes based on how close the person is to DoinFine.

This was particularly hard to navigate at the beginning of realizing we were a system because everyone talks about switching in and out and we don't do that. This fed our denial spirals for a good long while.

DoinFine has only ever not be in the front maybe twice. Bean seems to be the only one able to boot DoinFine to passenger with ease and has only done it once. The other time Cloud was bonding with his friend in our partner's system and DoinFine consciously decided to try and "look around" the head space (still not sure how to translate that literally) to see if they could learn more info. Cloud is our gatekeeper though so they didn't learn much nor did they full achieve disconnect but Cloud found himself front stuck for a second. We think this only happened because he's never co-fronted before and didn't know how to leave.

After writing that here's some information we may have pieced together. The first level of "fronting": Bleed Over and and Passive Influence is what DoinFine gets from the other head mates on our average day. The second level of "fronting": As someone get close to the front the influence becomes stronger which turns it into being blendy. This when someone sits on the bench with DoinFine or, in Cloud's case, standing just behind it. We don't make it past here very often. This is also where we have to give a heads up to those around us incase unexpected mannerism come through. The third and final level of "fronting": is reaching Co-Fronting where DoinFine stops driving but is still up front and can let the other person "have a turn". Typically it will look like the other person is Fronting on their own. This usually because in these instances who ever is co-fronting usually wants their time to exist as a person.

With Cloud getting front stuck briefly, that was DoinFine consciously and willingly taking "a back seat". Bean still holds the title for being the only one of us to kick DoinFine out of the drivers seat and forcing a co-front without anyone realizing until it was already happening. It wasn't even on Cloud's radar that maybe the 8 year old could be that powerful in the front. He was watching the interaction and suddenly DoinFine and Bean had swapped places and he began to panic only a little bit.

When it comes to our internal communication we don't lol. We communicate by verbally talking out loud to each other. Other things we do is use apps to text to each other. DoinFine, psychic proximity only gets us so far. All though they are developing a new technique where they kind of vaguely think about a question or theorize about an answer and then they try to tune into Cloud who's almost always with in proximity and tries to gage his emotions to tell them the answer or if their theory is correct. We have found that Cloud does not mind revealing information in this way. He still won't reveal everything though. For example we were trying to figure out when everyone first appeared in the headspace, when we got to Cloud he wouldn't tell us obviously but DoinFine noticed that when they would try and guess his vibe and emotions would almost play like a hot and cold game. When we were too far back he would almost boast about how, "i've been here way before that" and when we were too far forward we could feel collectively that it wasn't right. We eventually narrowed it down to early on in our time on this earth but when we were starting to get too close to specifics Cloud stopped the game and wouldn't provide anymore information.

🛸 Though I can tune in to vibes, emotions, and sometimes thoughts I can't access anyone completely. I think It's Cloud and he keeps tight tabs on everyone, I can gather information about people as individuals but nothing about the headspace, how this place works, and if anyone else is around. Though this is frustrating I can feel Cloud and trust that his intentions are good despite his rude way of executing them. I can feel that he is very familiar with me, and he knows what I can handle and when I'm ready for it. He is very much an older brother type. And I do trust that I will learn things when I'm ready for them. I also get the sense that he doesn't know EVERYTHING like he says he does and sometimes he just doesn't have the information and pretends like he's just keeping it from me. As for what everyone else knows I can't get a read on them. Bean is rarely around and it flips back and forth for Summer whether or not she knows things that Cloud knows or is just as clueless as me. Only time will tell I guess. I hope this is helpful or at least interesting to someone.

I’ve been trying to map how we work for a year now and this is where I’m at. I'm sure this will all change as I grow more familiar with my new situation. But for now if anyone has any question feel free to ask them, we are more than happy to answer anything. Questions from other people help us figure stuff out for ourselves.

Remember, you are valid in you're experiences!!!

[cringe-system]

why does everyones digital art look so nice!!!!!!?????? mine looks like ASS ugh FUCK

relearning how to draw is SHIT

[anotherpluralblog]

All 3 of us are conscious and going over after work plans coatl wants to knit while birb wants to watch a movie.

We really should fold our laundry and mop the floors but Im being overruled. At least I can probably get us in the shower first.

So much for a productive evening

-🌷

[starmoon-constellation]

As a plural system that writes constantly: this is soooo fucking true.

We have introjected most, if not all of our OCs. Even before true syscovery, we were just letting them take over the stories. It was better that way, felt less forced. Because it was.

Interestingly, we're also heavily steeped in writing practices. If we don't """worldbuild""" it, shit changes constantly. We *have* to write stuff down in the outerworld for even a slightest chance of whatever we're trying to get to solidify to do so. It's hilarious and frustrating at the same time xD

as a system who's been writing their whole life, I think some writers should consider that they're plural with the way they talk about their characters- because characters aren't actually supposed to take over the story, at least not in our experience, unless they're literally autonomous because they're a headmate/soulbond/whatever. if you're a good writer you keep your characters in-character so they would do whatever's in-character but the character shouldn't be deciding to do that, you're deciding that. there's a difference between knowing what a character will do because you know them well and having the character choose what to do themselves, you know?

[ahalliance]

dream isn’t even safe from being mocked in the french twitch streaming space this is so fucking funny . etoiles and some other streamers are commenting some mc speedruns and one of them made a joke about dream cheating on his speedrun back in the day then added ‘well i wouldn’t be defending him on any other subject either’

[goodlouse]

btw i was at a convention today and we asked a stall to turn down their music and they switched their playlist from kpop to this

[trashydez]

phoenix saw him in that steel samurai cos and had to do a double take

(close ups under the cut!)

additions! goofy man. barok von zieks who? he rakes a hand thru his hair subconsciously to comfort himself cause his dad always ruffled his hair affectionately. leave him alone

and close ups of them! i am very uncomfortable with the idea of drawing the weird armour boobs on pink princess’ outfit so, yea, no. also im channelling my want to get another undercut into maya cause god i hate having long thing hair actually this country is WARM and HUMID gdi!!

[yandereheathen]

The Cost of Protection [Yandere elf guard x Fem Reader] 18+ Chapter #2

Hoi! Hasn't it been forever? I got the bug again for this boy, and I think maybe Korm :> a little part #2, and I have #3 in the making for later this week! Thank you for all the asks. You are the people I wanted to make this for! approx 1,570 words Warnings: Non-con/kissing/ some violence, obsessive treatment, death threats. As always, I do not endorse relationships like this. It is just for fun! Please do not read in a rough state of mind.

A bitter chill clung to Barovia as you stepped out from your tavern, coin pouch clasped tightly in hand. Hope was scarce in these lands, but you held onto the thought of escaping Maverick’s grasp, even if it was just for a few hours of peace. The market streets were eerie in the early morning light, deserted but for a few drifting souls, hollow-eyed and battered by the bleakness of life under Strahd’s rule. You made your way to the stalls, intending to pick up a few supplies, something fresh and maybe something to brighten up the tavern. Your hand was already reaching for the vendor’s apples when you felt a rough tug at your waist, and before you could react, your coin pouch was gone. You spun around, catching sight of the thief’s shadow darting around a corner. “Stop! Come back here!” you yelled, but your voice barely echoed in the empty streets, swallowed by the mist and despair that never lifted in Barovia. Swallowing your pride, you made your way to the nearest guard post. Two Barovian guards lounged by the door, their eyes cold and bored as they watched your approach. You took a breath, trying to calm your nerves before speaking.

“Please, I need help,” you began, voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it louder would make the shame sting more. One guard sneered, his gaze sliding over you with disdain and dark interest. He stepped closer, grabbing the fabric of your shirt between his rough fingers and pulling you nearer, his breath hot against your cheek. “I can think of a way you might earn some help, sweetheart,” he murmured, his grin twisting with something sinister. Before you could protest, the second guard nudged him with a sigh. “Nah, she’s Maverick’s girl,” he muttered, giving you an appraising look. “He’ll be pissed if we touch her. Go crawl back to him if you want help so bad.” They shoved you off, sending you stumbling back a step as they laughed, their voices fading into the mist. Gritting your teeth, you stomped your foot in frustration. “Bastards,” you spat under your breath. Straightening your shirt, you tried to collect yourself, brushing off their words as you turned back toward your tavern. Back inside, you searched through your small collection of trinkets, fingers grazing over rings and pendants, hoping you’d stashed away enough to sell and make up for the lost coins. But just as you reached into the drawer, you felt a cold sensation on your thigh—the hilt of a sword lifting the edge of your skirt. “Hmm… black today,” a familiar, chilling voice purred from behind. “Trying to shut someone out?” You jumped, spinning around, pressing yourself against the wall as your heart hammered in your chest. There he was, Maverick, still in his guard uniform, looking every bit the devil with that smirk across his face. “I heard you had some trouble today, little bunny.” His voice was low, dripping with mock sympathy, as he set down a small pouch on the table beside you. Your pouch—the one that had been stolen. But now, it was splattered with minor, fresh stains of blood. “A gift,” he purred, drawing closer, his golden eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction. Before you could respond, his arms closed around you, trapping you in an iron embrace. You tried to twist away, hands pushing at his chest, but his grip was unyielding. “Please… let go,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your neck. “No,” he replied, voice heavy with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. His teeth sank into your shoulder, the sharp pain blossoming as you felt his teeth break the skin. You screamed, the sound filling the small room as blood seeped from the wound, trailing down your chest in warm rivulets. He groaned, his breath hitching with sick satisfaction as he licked the blood from your skin, his hold tightening, crushing you against him. You struggled, pushing, desperate to escape, but his grip grew firmer, his amusement rumbling against your skin. He pulled back, his face inches from yours, a twisted smile playing on his bloodstained lips. “Remember this, little bunny,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost affectionate. “You’re mine. No one else is allowed to touch you, help you, or save you. You belong to me.”

Maverick’s fingers grazed over your collarbone, the roughness of his touch stark against the soft skin he’d just marred. His gaze bore into yours, a wicked satisfaction glinting in those golden eyes, watching for every hint of your reaction. You held your breath, your pulse racing as he drew closer, his lips brushing your jawline, his voice a low whisper. “Do you understand, little bunny?” he murmured, his tone carrying an unsettling gentleness that only heightened your discomfort. You clenched your fists, refusing to give in to the sway of his words. Your body tensed as you pushed against him, struggling to twist out of his grasp. But he didn’t budge, his hand pressing against the small of your back, holding you in place with an ease that both frustrated and frightened you. “Stop fighting me,” he purred, his voice soft but commanding, his hand slipping from your back to trace the curve of your hip. You squirmed under his grip, a fierce glare on your face as you met his eyes. “Let go of me,” you hissed, anger masking the flickers of betrayal that your body was beginning to reveal. Heat rose to your skin as his touch lingered, his fingers pressing into you with a possessive intensity that sent unwanted shivers down your spine. You fought the reaction, the betrayal of your body, the way your skin seemed to tingle under his touch despite every protest in your mind. “Why must you resist?” he murmured, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of hesitation and rebellion in your stance. His hands traced down, capturing your wrists, pinning them against the wall beside your head, his face mere inches from yours. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel it,” he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. His grip tightened, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. Every inch of your body seemed to betray you, the warmth of his touch igniting sensations you’d instead have denied, your pulse quickening even as you struggled to pull away. He leaned in, his mouth ghosting over your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers along your skin. “You’re mine,” he said again, his voice soft but unyielding. His hand moved, tracing the lines of your body with a dark reverence, savoring the tension, the resistance, the way your breath caught with every touch. You fought the sensations, the rebellion in your mind conflicting with the stir of warmth spreading through you, your body’s involuntary response only fueling the twisted satisfaction in his gaze. He leaned closer, his hands trailing down your sides, his touch both rough and reverent, as if claiming each part of you with a dark insistence. “See, even your body understands,” he murmured, his fingers pressing into you with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving yours. Despite every struggle and protest, you couldn’t deny how your pulse raced under his touch, the heat rising against your will. He grinned, having enough, and pushed you down, falling to your ass when he had you mesmerized. “Now. Show me how thankful you are, bunny, for me helping you.” the fabric on his pants was rough and slightly dirty from the mud as your cheek was rubbed with this clothed cock. He lets out a shivering moan. “so soft…but I want to feel something softer.”

You start shaking and crying as you feel his veins and skin sliding in and out of your mouth, young and then lips in a popping noise. He is not as gentle as when he first started clear. A need inside him was burning, screaming to get out, and your mouth would take the punishment of it. Every thrust of your head bounced painfully at the wall, you let out a cry, and he gets rougher now, grabbing your hair and dragging you back and forth. The worst part is. Not that you can’t breathe. Not the pain in your head. But the warm, dizzy feeling in your head and the…warmth dripping on your legs. The room spun, fear blurring your vision as his words sank in, the weight of your captivity closing in, suffocating and inescapable as you felt his cum down your throat. "Mine"

[myst1xx]

hi tumblr here’s me as fig

[doin-just-fine]

What the brain doin?? PT. 6 of a questioning median system's journey

"Cloud's evening out"

Cloud fronted fronted for the first time a couple nights ago. This was the first time Cloud had been the dominant one fronting instead of myself.

I was hanging out with a member of my partner system who's basically an edgey rebellious teen, similar to Cloud. The goal that night was honestly for Cloud to just use me as the talking piece like usual. Cloud was already around because these two have hung out before but not formally, but Cloud liked the vibe last time and wanted to do a formal hang out at some point. So with him around I could tell that he definitely had influence over my emotions and certain attitudes but the power over that would fluctuate based on how interested Cloud was in what was happening. Like when me and our friend were just chatting about life and poking fun at each other Cloud was less interested in those conversations but if we switched to a topic that has been stressing out our trauma response Cloud would perk up and get closer because this was something he had big opinions about.

The music was right, the vibes were right, and all we needed was something that would make Cloud want to contribute to the vibe. We started talking about a situation that has been going on and our friend was airing out some grievances and Cloud wanted join in and talk about the stuff that been frustrating him about the situation. Once we started talking about the right stuff it felt like a smooth transition into being different. And thats accurate to how it felt, like me but different, in the weirdest way.

Like I said I'm always up front, and twice now I've ridden shotgun in the front this being the second time. With the little one I was still very much in control because they didn't seem to know what they were doing up front. But Cloud seems to know what he's doing up front so it was like I was just kinda waiting. Like when you're on a phone call with someone on speaker and someone else in the room starts talking to the person on the phone. Like it's your phone call and you're just kinda waiting for it to be your phone call again but currently someone else is using your phone call. I was kinda just waiting around for it to be my phone call again. I got to hear everything and be around for it all but didn't tune in too hard because it wasn't my phone call conversation to be apart of.

OBSERVATIONS: I will say there was a distinct difference in me being front holder and matching our friends energy and vibe VS Cloud being the front holder and just naturally having those vibes. When it was just me and our friend hanging out I would tune into myself to figure out how much of it was me and how much was Cloud. Like I said, Cloud had fluctuating influence over my attitude and emotions and I could make the distinction when it was just me, but when he was around that distinction went away.

Usually if I'm holding the front and someone is co-con, if I voice something for them and it mentions me in the 3rd person, saying it will feel weird. For most of my time questioning if I'm a median system, 3rd person language has felt weird because I'm always fronting. Not this time. This time I noticed that when Cloud would talk about me in the 3rd person it didn't feel weird to him.

I'm specifying that it didn't feel weird to him because I could feel myself farther back like how I usually experience my head-mates being around. Kinda there but just slightly next to you. I'm guessing I felt the my emotions distance through Cloud feeling them like how I usually do with him, and I could feel his feelings were more forward than my own. I could feel that to him referring to me in the 3rd person felt right but I could still feel myself finding it weird but it just felt duller and farther away.

Cloud could also tell that I was observing and "taking notes" everything that was happening and was actively making fun of me for it and got mildly annoyed about it because my observations were getting in the way of him being able to focus on hanging out. Because of this I couldn't take too many notes. The only other thing I noticed were the differences between myself and Cloud. My body language changed: I was really bouncy and couldn't sit still but he stuck with one position (to be fair he also gained a cat on his lap so). My opinions changed: I love cats and would have been thrilled to have a cat on my lap but Cloud was very neutral and if anything mildly annoyed by the cat (to be fair our friend we were hanging with is also like that so I'm not sure if Cloud was just copying behavior patterns to match their energy or not). My filter changed: When Cloud was out he had stronger opinions that I would typically try to keep to myself and deconstruct/questions before voicing them but Cloud would just say them. Use of phrases change: Phrases I typically would say would still be said out of habit almost but Cloud would notice that he would never actively choose to say those words in that order. He said something about needing to "spice up" his aesthetic and then actively hated that he just said spice up.

Once the hang out was deemed over we realized that I was trying to hard to observe and take notes on this experience and that I was kinda holding Cloud hostage because I wanted to keep taking notes making it really hard for him to leave. We decided that my partner would switch back in (because that alone would probably help) so they could help us switch out because not only was I holding Cloud hostage unintentionally, but he also expressed that he didn't know how to leave.

When my partner was out heres what I noticed: Cloud got shyer but tried to play it off. Saying "nice to meet you" didn't feel weird, and when my partner offered him to rest our head on their knee Cloud felt weird about it and chose not to. My partner switched the music to something more my style and Cloud really didn't like it and made fun of me for it.

I asked my partner what they thought/observed: They observed many of the things I mentioned here. They noticed that where I would normally push back with their alter in a teasing way on certain things they would say or do, Cloud would either make no comment or agree. I feel like that's in the same vain of Cloud having less of a filter. They were saying it was like a different version of myself where certain aspects of me were cranked up more. They mentioned that this is similar to their experiences with plurality.

Bonus observation: After I came back to being the front holder I could still feel Cloud really close by. I couldn't tell if it was just weird for us to actively think about switching instead of it happening subconsciously so he was like "caught on the chair" if you will or if it was that I was still holding him hostage a bit afterward. But we went to bed almost immediately after we switched around and I noticed that the next morning I could still feel Cloud being closer than usual. It didn't help that a hour after waking up, the situation that Cloud feels strongly about was stirred up some more, but that next day it felt really easy for him to slip in and I had to fight it off. Once my ADHD meds kicked in it got easier which was interesting.

AMNESIA: It's not like I don't remember the events that occurred while Cloud was holding front but it's like the memories are harder to recall. When I was discussing this with my partner they reminded me that our friend and Cloud agreed to hang out again when ever they could next and when reflecting on that it was from a 3rd person perspective. For me, only my old memories are in 3rd person POV. So for a fresh memory to be that way is weird. I also don't look like me in the memory but idk if that actually means anything.

I'm not sure what to make of this myself. I think I'm gonna try having Cloud hang around my partner who is very different personality wise and see how it effects or doesn't effect his behavior, as well as seeing if I can bring him out to the front like that by myself by finding other things that draws him out and not just talking about things that make him angry/protective. I will say if Cloud truly is a facet and not just me giving myself permission to feel and express specific negative emotions, he is very much a protector type. He pretends like he doesn't have opinions or that he doesn't care about anything but he does and when he does its intense. I also forgot my plan. I planned on trying to "turn around in the chair" the next time I was pushed to co-pilot instead of pilot and I totally forgot so we shall see next time, if I remember.

As always, Asks are welcome whether its questions, comments, or your own experience!!!

[critter-of-habit]

So I met Jessica Madsen (Bridgerton's Cressida Cowper) on the weekend and she is now one of my favourite people 🥹

Got her autograph, sat in on her panel, and thanks to encouragement from a new friend I also went along to a special lil event and got to chat with Jess over dinner for 2 hours 🫠 It was her, Sam Phillips (who plays Lord Debling and is also a joy of a human) me and 7 other lovely folk.

They were both really relaxed and chatted openly about the show - both love the change to Michaela and that there will be more queer rep. They asked which order of Bridgerton siblings we thought the show would be going with and seemed really amused at our guesses (I dont know if they even know what the order is themselves, they were playing very coy about it 😅).

A highlight of the night tho was early on I mentioned that I had to drive 2 hours to get home afterwards, and didn't think she even heard me. But then when she was leaving she touched my shoulder and told me "drive safe!" And I just 🫠 - so sweet she remembered 😭

Anyway, I am now forever a Cressida defender, my girl can do no wrong and deserves the world

[sebuttianstans]

Tokyo Comic Con 2024 After Christmas

29/12/2024

Its been so long I've been inactive. LIFE

But I have finally met Seb 🥹

[hyohaehyuk]

gruntsandpoetry and pixielayer: Sam: "(trying to give the most PR-ish answear as possible about chemistry) "it's a team effort" Rolin: "JACOB AND SAM GO BOWLING TOGETHER" Assad: "And ice cream" Sam: "We eat a lot of ice cream and… we do a lot of sticker play…" Host: “care to elaborate on sticker play?” 🤯 Sam: "make it up" 💀

Source: Den of Geek - Will Claudia Have to Claw Her Way Back into 'Interview with the Vampire'? | SDCC

where are they sticking those stickers?

[telesodalite]

Never getting over Fulcrum being a project manager...

Idk why, but something about that is so funny to me. Not just because the title of "project manager" is inherently kinda funny for a Decepticon, but also because-

1. It's vague sounding and hard to explain irl because it technically exists in multiple fields, like healthcare or manufacturing, which surely translates into canon in some way.

2. In canon, it's simultaneously a really mundane, innocuous sounding job, yet it's also a super morally awful position to reside over depending on the context. (*cough* forced colonization and cyberforming *cough*)

And 3. It solidifies the fact that behind all the surface level militaristic work we get with both the Decepticons and Autobots, there's also Cons and Bots with "normal" jobs in both factions.

Like, sure yeah we get scientists and doctors, engineers and programmers, but usually in big important or warfront positions. (For plot reasons, understandably.) But it's also really funny and interesting to think of those that worked background positions, or minor jobs.

Like an Autobot working in their equivalent of an HR department, or a Decepticon who runs one of their outpost's or starship's kitchens.

Just all the pre-war jobs that didn't just disappear with the war, but instead evolved to exist within the factions.

It's particularly funny with the Decepticons though, because it could be a super mundane job or situation, but because it's them, it has to have an air of ~e v i l~ to it, either legitimately and/or merely for the vibes, like Tarn's "performance reviews".

[cobelschewtoy]

Inspection

Harmony Cobel x Reader

Summary:  Ms. Cobel summons you to her office after noticing signs of you being unwell. 

Tags: mild medical play (no tools (except gloves)), dubious consent, power imbalance, fingering, inspection, orgasm denial

Words: 1,656

Author's Note: Something about Ms Cobel’s cadence and the pretend detached voice I enjoy during this kind of scene is so 😵‍💫. Choosing whether or not she should wear the black gloves they use when doing first aid was the hardest part of writing this fic (I chose to do the gloves (anyone who knows me is not surprised))

Reader is explicitly referred to as a woman (</3) and is wearing a skirt and panties

ao3 | masterlist

You follow half-a-pace behind Mr. Milchick as he leads you to Ms. Cobel’s office. He hadn’t explained why he’d been sent to get you. You can’t think of anything you’ve done that’s bad enough to earn a meeting with Ms. Cobel before going to the Break Room. Even the few times you have warranted a visit with her first, she’d scold you in the Break Room itself.

It’s unlikely to be that yet you can’t think of another reason. Your department chief is in today which means it can’t be a promotion. You clasp your hands in front of yourself and squeeze them tight to stop your anxious fidgeting. There’s nothing you can do, no matter what the meeting will be about, so there’s no point in worrying about it.

The thought doesn’t stop the tight ball in your chest from growing as you step up to her door. You knock and Mr. Milchick waits for Ms. Cobel’s permission to enter before sending you his bright smile and leaving. You aren’t sure what that means either. He’s always hovering outside her office when one of you are in there.

You gently open the door. The same sight as always greets you. Ms. Cobel sitting at her desk, hands folded in front of her. You stop in front of her, hands once again clasped tightly, and wait.

“This is not a preamble to the Break Room,” she says and your shoulders relax. “However, it is about some concerning behaviour you’ve exhibited recently.”

The tension immediately returns. Concerning behaviour? You’ve never been accused of that before. The cause for your trips to the Break Room tend to lean more towards blatant infractions.

“Have I done something wrong?” you ask nervously.

“It will depend on the cause of the behaviour,” she says and you nod in understanding. “You’ve become restless, unfocused and,” her eyes scan your body with a look you can’t recognise, “squirmy.”

Oh. Your gaze drops in embarrassment. You don’t know exactly what it is but you know where you feel it. You know the names for where you feel it too; vagina, pussy, cunt. But there isn’t really a professional way to say that. 

“It’s a feeling I get sometimes. I don’t know why,” you say quietly.

“A feeling where?”

“My stomach,” you say.

“Your stomach,” she says flatly. You nod, your curved shoulders giving you away. “A stomach bug does not have the same symptoms as the ones we are currently discussing.”

“My…lower stomach,” you try.

Her expression doesn’t change. She just stares at you in silence. You only last a few seconds before it becomes too much and you start tugging at the bottom of your shirt. 

“Between my legs,” you finally admit just as quietly, gaze fixed firmly to the floor.

“I see,” she says and leans back in her chair. “That is quite concerning.”

Concerning in an affects-your-work way or concerning in a worried-for-your-health way? Your eyes flick to hers for a moment but you still can’t read her expression.

“This is something that we will have to be investigate,” she says and stands.

You eye her nervously. “Investigate how?”

She doesn’t answer you. She moves to the wall and removes a first aid kit.

“I thought Mr. Milchick was our first aid officer?” you ask as she places it upon her desk.

“This is a more delicate matter. It has been noted that women feel more relaxed when this matter is dealt with by another woman,” Ms. Cobel says.

“Okay,” you nod and fidget nervously.

She hasn’t explained what the matter is. How sick are you? If she noticed, did the others? If they did why didn’t they say anything? It can be hard talking about things that are a result of the outside world but if you’re sick enough for Ms. Cobel to intervene surely they would have said something.

She opens the kit and pulls out a pair of gloves. She pulls them on slowly and when she lets go of the bottom of the glove it snaps back against her wrist with a loud smack. You swallow.

“Bend over,” she says, the exact same way she says everything.

The casualness of it makes your brain second guess the meaning. But no, you heard right. She waits, watching, and you notice how dry your mouth is. You take a hesitant step closer to her desk before leaning down and holding yourself up with your hands.

A hand lands between your shoulder blades and you jolt in surprise. You think this is the first time she’s ever touched you. Actually, you think this is the first time anyone’s touched you on your back at all. 

“Lower,” Ms. Cobel says and presses down.

You obey. She doesn’t stop until you’re front is firmly pressed against the desk. 

“Ms. Cobel?” you ask in a small voice.

“Stay there.” Her hand smooths down your back and then curves over your hip.

Her hand continues until it reaches the bottom of your skirt. You tense slightly as she slowly lifts it to settle about your waist. You try to relax, even as her gloved fingers find the waistband of your panties. The feeling that makes you ‘squirmy’ is back. You want to ask her what she’s doing but you’ve been on the severed floor long enough to know you are only ever told what they want to tell you and no more.

Your panties drop to the floor and you want to bury your face in your arms but when you try to move Ms. Cobel’s hand returns to your back, hard enough that it feels light her nails are digging into your skin.

“I believe I told you to stay still,” she says.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Cobel,” you murmur, something like embarrassment flaring through you.

She doesn’t respond. Her hand returns to your hip, purely so it can run down the curve of your ass and to the wetness growing between your thighs. She doesn’t pause. Two fingers run through your dripping folds. You gasp, hips jolting at the unfamiliar feeling. You’re surprised at how much your cunt enjoys it. She’s barely touching you. 

“An appropriate amount of lubrication,” she notes. You don’t know if you should be embarrassed or not. “Perhaps a bit more than the situation warrants.”

Before you can try and parse out if your should be embarrassed by that, her fingers dip lower and nudge something that makes you twitch. Something that makes you want her to press. You don’t have the words for it but you want more. You want it deeper.

As if she’s reading your mind, she slowly pushes one finger inside. You tense at the feeling of something entering you for the first time. It feels strange but far from bad. That same feeling that’s been following you not only returns but grows. She slowly pulls out before pushing back inside of you. You can’t steady your breathing. The feeling of stretching is disappearing, to be replaced by something much more hot than the dull ache that’s been plaguing you. She repeats the motions enough that you’re struggling to stay still. The fire inside of you is growing and you don’t know what to do with it. It’s torturous.

She doesn’t warn you when she uses a second finger. She pulls one out and pushes two in. A high-pitched gasp leaves you and you cling to the desk. Ms. Cobel makes a vaguely interested humming noise and then her fingers curl.

A noise you’ve never made before, loud and embarrassing, escapes you. You cover your mouth with one hand. Yes, she’s looking to see what the problem is and the problem is pleasure but surely you aren’t meant to be enjoying it this much? She still doesn’t make a comment. Her fingers slide in and then out of you, adjusting their angle slightly, and curl again. This time they touch something that sends sparks across your vision. You arch involuntarily, your hand muffling your cry. She does it again and your whole world shrinks to the hot pleasure. Something above where her fingers are is touched and another embarrassing noise escapes you.

“Good,” she assesses. 

The feeling inside you flares brighter. You feel something happening. Something coming closer, building inside of you. You don’t know what it is but you know you want it. You ache for it. 

Just as your about to reach it, she pulls her hand away. 

You barely swallow down a desperate “no”. You don’t want the pleasure to stop but it isn’t like she can do this all day. There isn’t an endpoint to this feeling, it only grows or lessens. You’re going to finish the meeting feeling like this no matter how long she continues. 

The understanding doesn’t stop the desperate want inside of you.

“Your reactions seem normal,” she says as she peels off the gloves. You blink slowly as you try to come back to yourself. It takes a moment but you manage to push yourself up onto shaky legs. You’re too overwhelmed to be relieved that you aren’t sick. “But they will need to be monitored. It’s easy for something like this to become a larger issue.” She throws the gloves in the bin.

“Do you mean this will happen again?” you ask, and your voice doesn’t come out as calm as you were hoping.

She said your reactions are normal so hopefully the…positive reaction you had won’t be something she feels the need to correct. She doesn’t answer your question. Unsurprisingly. She doesn’t like redundant questions.

“Straighten yourself out,” she says as she sits down.

You look down and try not to be too embarrassed at how rumpled your clothes are. You quickly pull on the end of your shirt to straighten it and smooth out your skirt. She waits until you’re done to say,

“Dismissed.”

Your legs still shake as you leave.

[kiwistede]

Our Flag Means Death s2 stills - by Nicola Dove Photographer