#its the same thing where they go oh this whole situation is giving me anxiety :(

[myguy352forthefuture]

minecraft stans and stans in general have to be the most obnoxious people on earth. like the second someone they used to like gets outed as something they're so quick to suddenly say "i yeah i never liked them, all their stuff was so bad" as if they didn't read a ton of fan fics or make fan art of them. be for real you absolute losers and have an actual spine

[garpond]

i feel like i have a lot to say about ocd now that ive been working towards teaching myself ERP for the better part of a year.. probably one of the most useful things to me was learning to visualize OCD as something like an ai large language model. or generative image ai or something if your ocd comes in more as visuals. but thats the best way ive found to explain how it works. even though your mind really knows how to hit on your worst fears, its important to remember that the part of your brain responsible for intrusive thoughts doesn't actually know what it's saying... it only learns what is a "threat" and what isn't based on your reactions to things and the thoughts that happen in your conscious mind. but that's all it is- the use of your conscious awareness/memories/learned information/etc to pick out patterns and use those patterns to send you thoughts.

Like... imagine you for some reason decided to train an LLM to generate messages that scare you. at first the messages arent tailored to you at all, just random potentially scary things it's drawing from its machine-learning understanding of what concepts are "scary". most of them don't bother you, but eventually it makes one that really freaks you out. in response, you give a positive rating to this message, and the Ai knows that *this* is what you want when you say "scary". so after this, the AI just keeps using this positively-rated message to make related scary things, or even just re-hash that same exact message and repeatedly send it to you. since it got your feedback on that one, it now knows that this is what it is "supposed" to be doing, so it's just going to keep doing that, even though it doesn't actually understand WHAT it's saying the way a human being would.

that's basically all OCD is, believe it or not. it's a type of anxiety disorder that occurs when a random thought from your subconscious was reacted to with an amount of fear and distress that signaled to the brain that the content of the thought must be a threat, and that something needs to be done to neutralize it. but again, your brain doesn't actually understand what the thought was, or what the threat was supposed to Be. All it wants is this: to "warn" you about the Scary Thing all of the time, since clearly you are very worried about it, and to get you to do something to Protect Yourself From Scary Thing. It doesn't know wtf is going on!! For all it knows, maybe your house is filled with deadly snakes and that's what you're so afraid of all the time, so it needs to remind you to watch out for snakes and it can only relax when your brain activity indicates that you Have in fact watched out for snakes. But it doesn't grasp the situation itself- only the mechanics of it. This snake situation could just as easily be "oh my god what if i dropped my credit card in the gas station I need to walk around the whole building again staring at the floor and then check my bag and then check my bag Again and" and your brain genuinely will not know the fucking difference. It only grasps "scary thing, neutralizing thing" chain of events, and your level of fear when it sends you the prompt to Watch Out. This is how OCD perpetuates itself- it sends you a Scary Thought complete with a large fear reaction, and when you Do The Thing, it serves as positive feedback for the brain and it thinks "wow, looks like there was a threat! I'm doing a good job. I'll continue." It's not trying to hurt you, and it doesnt KNOW anything about the situation that you don't... it just has no idea what's going on because it wasn't built to, and it's doing its best. It didn't evolve to understand situations the way your conscious brain does. It only evolved to make you react to things that scare you fast enough to keep you alive. And so consequently, it doesn't grasp whether or not the thing it's making you worry about actually makes any practical sense. And this is where ERP comes in, because the way to get your brain to Let Go of that topic is to train it in reverse. Just like you'd train an AI, basically. ERP preventing a response is basically teaching you how to train your brain that there is no threat, and that's why we don't have to do the action. The less you do the action/compulsion, the more times you send your brain the message that this thought isn't important, this isn't something that needs to be worried about, and it doesn't have to keep sending you that intrusive thought and anxiety. And it works!! If you would have told me a year ago that I would make as much progress as I had I probably would have started crying because I didn't think it was possible but here I am. It's possible to take your life back and learn how to keep OCD manageable! It just takes patience, trust in yourself (which you have to build from the ground up which is HARD and SUCKS but please keep at it), and a willingness to learn about OCD and how it functions. but it's been helpful for me, so helpful that I cannot recommend it enough

[radfemsiren]

Hi! I really like your page so I hope you don’t mind if I bitch and moan to you real quick. I’m kind of tired of being put in the same situation every time I meet a guy. It’s always “Oh great! A new friend!” because I guess I’m a really naive person and I can never read the room. Ends up; they always want to date me and I have to end up rejecting them. #1: I’m a lesbian and #2: I’m at a point in my life where I just don’t wanna be in a relationship right now. It’s always this whole thing where I spiral back into self-hatred “Why do I have to like women? Why can’t I be attracted to him so I don’t have to hurt him?” that kinda thing. And then I feel even more guilty for worrying about my own emotions more than I worry about the guy I just rejected. Then afterwards if we stay friends….they always talk about how hard it is for guys in the dating pool, and how they’ll never find a partner. I just kinda feel like they’re indirectly talking to me every time they talk like that. Even though they never mention me….there’s always this pit in my stomach whenever the topic is brought up. I try to lift their spirits by telling them that it’s way too early for them to give up on dating, but they tell me that I wouldn’t know what it’s like for guys out there. Maybe I’m complaining about nothing? Maybe I should be happy that people actually want me when some guys don’t even get that? I feel like I don’t have a right to complain but I just feel more and more shitty the more I try to put myself out there and meet more friends. Accounts like yours are the only ones who have made me feel better about this whole situation. I just wanted to get that off my chest; and it’d be nice to know your opinion on it if you actually read this whole thing LOL!

Lol I did read the whole thing and I completely understand! I have this problem too which is why I've completely given up having any friendships with men. A lot of people accuse feminists of being bitter and only into women's rights because we "failed" to get male attention. This could not be further from the truth. I receive a lot of male attention and 90% of the time, its unwanted and just gives me a jumble of anxiety and irritation, and a negative thought pattern just like the one you described. So many women feel this, where its like "Ok, now how do I go about this problem? :/"

What I recommend is 2 things. First, understand that men have entitlement issues because of male socialization. Male socialization is basically society at large conceding to every whim and tantrum men throw in order to get their way, creating overgrown toddlers who feel like they deserve everything their sight touches. Understand that even the nicest of male friends have this issue to some degree, and you won't have these guilty feelings because you accept that they would never feel the same way about a girl they're not attracted to bothering them. Many men actually feel pride and excitement at the chance of turning a woman down, or at best, downright indifference. It's very rare to meet a guy that feels real guilt and shame if he's being put in the situation you're in. Because women are socialized to feel shame and guilt, even when they are not doing anything wrong.

Secondly, its important to understand that being "fuckzoned" is a million times worse than being "friendzoned." So many women every day get fuckzoned, which means only their body and potential for giving pleasure is seen as important. Meanwhile, friendzoning happens to men, which means their personality, laughter, thoughts and feelings are the priority. Which sounds better? Which problem sounds more humanizing? So when they feel bad, or keep complaining about their dating life to you (which is definitely directed at you, don't think you are imagining the hints, trust your gut) just remember that you are overhumanizing them, while they are underhumanizing you.

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

I know it's a bit late for a WIP Wednesday, but I was super busy yesterday. Better late than never though and I'm holding myself to it! We're going to do this, yeppers. Here we go with my incessant rambles.

So, for the first WIP Wednesday I couldn't quite decide on what AU to exactly show off or bring up for the occasion. Instead, I figured I'd give you all an idea that has been in the drafts but never got past 3.6k words. Why, might you ask? I'm not too sure. I think for what it was, it never had a foundational plot to where I knew what direction I wanted to have it be. Or what it even was going to be about. I didn't want to start another one of those fics where it had no direction. Even if it was a self-indulgent thing.

The entire AU is set in college (which is funny because I never went to college- but for some reason I like college aus more than high school aus), where Luz is super big into writing and Amity worked at the library on campus. This combined with a concept where they just keep running into one another despite not meaning to and annoying themselves out in the process.

I don't know why but when I first thought of this concept, I wanted to include this scene where Luz is just writing on this roof top garden area and its nighttime, but she's there because she cannot sleep and because she doesn't want to wake Willow up. And then there's Amity where SOMEHOW, she shows up and is like "Why are you here?"/"I was here first, the same could be said for you." and it's like a whole thing because Amity just wants to be alone but of course for plot reasons that just doesn't happen.

Another plot point I wanted to add was that Hunter and Amity being step siblings because I absolutely love the thought of their stepsibling dynamic. Where at first, they dislike one another because Hunter's just there and showed up in the family but overtime Amity grows to tolerate him. But in the fic, Luz doesn't know that him and Amity are step siblings- But it's her venting to Hunter about "this bitch is so mean, and I wish she'd stop showing up every time I want to just exist." Established Huntlow, but also despite the stepsibling thing, Amity isn't a part of the group due to just her being a loner and focused on her studies so much. WHICH BRINGS ME INTO THE NEXT THING.

An additional reason this was meant as a 'self-indulgent' thing was because I wanted to write about Odalia being an alcoholic, and how her and Amity's relationship is strained because of that. I don't want to like write about "flashbacks" or damaging shit because that is not the point of the fic. It's Amity moving on and navigating how she exists knowing that her relationship is strained with Odalia because of her substance usage, and how in that in the same breath; how her trauma exists long term. Mainly the one factor that people dismiss and downplay her anxiety as being irrelevant or overdramatic (In other words, "not being 'valid enough'")

Just like- having that conversation open up between Amity and Luz of like communicating emotions like that, and how in some situations when you have trauma you just get anxious and you don't want to be, but you just are. But the situation isn't like a "Oh I love you because you understand me so therefore my trauma now doesn't exist and we're dating" kind of thing, it's just two people that see each other for who they are and they're not the best at it, but they're communicating better than their parents ever did to them.

AND THAT. That is so real. I just wanted to write some kind of healing fic apparently, but I never got to the point past 3.6k words of set up. Am I self-projecting? Maybe... But it's okay because it's not like it couldn't work.

If you managed to read ALL OF THAT. I'm sorry lmaoooo. But when I get going with my aus I cannot stop talking about them. Here is what you've probably been looking for. Here is the WIP. It's messy and unedited but IT CAME FROM THE DRAFTS!

A RANDOM ASS SCENE FOR YOU (please ignore the cringe ugh)

“So, as I was saying Luz, the front spread has got to pop,” Gus stood in front of the table they and two other students held hostage in the library. The four with their own laptops and hasty jumbled drawings across notebooks. “And that’s pop with a capital P. None of that soda business.”  “What if we do it on the football team?” a member asked, but Gus quickly scrambled the idea aside with a blatant excuse that academics were more ‘in this year.’  “What about the art funding?” Luz asked, “we are more so an artistic school. We could interview the dean and give his take on how art is important in student’s fundamental development.”  Gus frowned, “I’m not interviewing Dr. Hootisfer.”  “Vice president Wittabane?” “He’s actively trying to cut artistic funding. We all know he just wants Hootisfer’s job.”  “Which is more reason why we should do a story on it,” Matt said, Gus's expression faltered for a moment as they caught one another’s gaze. He paused before he gave a nod.  “You know what?” Gus clarified, “that actually does seem like a good idea after all. Maybe you’re right about that,” he crossed around to the other side to stand between them both and used his body weight to lean into the table. Matt began to type an email for the rest of the team that included the professor whom housed their meets normally, while Luz doctored more adjustments into their meeting notes.  “Hey, you guys need to leave in twenty minutes, the library is going to close soon,” a girl came up and tapped the table. The plastic from one of her bracelets clattered with gingered force. Gus and Matt remained focused, but Luz's expression followed the girl.  More specifically on the cart full of books she forced along, and the hair that swept itself into a tight surf green ponytail--which Luz noted--helpfully exposed her undercut. She stopped at the next table and repeated the same action, but then disappeared from view in the nonfiction section seconds afterward.  “Luz?”   If Gus had explained something, Luz knew she didn’t have the fortitude to recite it back. He didn’t seem to be annoyed however from the way he resumed like nothing transpired. Matt sent the email, and they closed the meeting soon after by Gus's announcement that he needed story ideas by next Tuesday. The rest of their team would be held to the same regard when they met again. Luz fiddled with the zipper on her computer bag and pulled the strap over her neck. Matt and Gus followed suite as they paced one other out of the building. Many students did the same as it signified the libraries closure for the evening. The same girl Luz saw earlier now fixed herself behind the checkout counter they passed.   “You want to go get dinner? I’m starving,” said Gus. They weaved through the bustle of students to make their way outside. The night air seemed almost like electricity in the sense that it rejuvenated the crumpled hours prior. Her own stomach pulled at the mention of food.  “Maybe in a bit, I’d like to see what Willow and Hunter are doing first,” Luz commented and took out her phone to open the conversation with Willow. Her thumbs brushed across the screen with a fluid rhythm. “You should invite them too, the more the merrier,” Matt pushed her shoulder with a fist and Gus chuckled with agreement. “I’m going to go make a quick phone call then,” she nodded and went to an uncrowded spot. 

For the record though, this WIP isn't "dead" I could make it work, I just don't see how it could be all that cool. It's just a silly lil thing.

[tears-of-boredom]

oh my god this fucking tumblr dash i frogort aobut it already and my figner are fucking freezing so i cant tyoe for shit

anyways so i was browsing like you know one of those websites that streams a bunch of shit for free, and i saw a show called BEEF, just BEEF, it wasnt an acronym or anything. so fo course i had to see what was up duh?? so i finished the first episode. and i fucking love it. i mean the whole time i was lowkey chanting "kill someones kill someone kill someone" but you know how good media does that to you right. but yeah so when the episode finished, i noticed that my heart was beating really fast, like as if id drunk coffee. like lowkey i wouldnt have been surprised if i had passed out onto my desk. but so if my bodys reaction to the show is anything, i enjoyed it. im going to watch the next episode when i either A: feel like i can handle my pulse rising like that again without freaking out or B: i wanna get an adrenaline rush because im really depressed and need to feel something. but yeah this is totally just like that time i watches thor ragnarok, and it took like multiple weeks for me to get through it because i just couldnt handle tom hiddleston. but thsi time i refuse to believe that its any of the actors. i am trying to convince myself that im not that shallow. tbh i just loved the last scene where uhh,,, hold on whats her name okay its Amy. so i loved that scene where she got to fuel all her anger into running after Danny and yelling shit at him. like i know its not for a good reason but i feel like my girl really needed just some way to let some steam out. anyways yeah i am going to go read something that i give zero shits about now because my body is still on alert from that. it feels like im planning on having a voluntary social interaction with someone, which i am not. aka i am anxious as fuck but in this way where i kinda dont want to be, but my body just reacts so strongly that i really cant fight it. ya know social anxiety. except sometimes its triggered by just a good tv series.

honestly its probably just that im excited, because that episode was good,, but because this jittery and kind of stressed feeling isnt really like, often present in my life in a positive way, i just can't tell excitement apart from anxiousness. ya know. normal " i have awful social anxiety" things. or more like "i am severely mentally ill and am not getting the treatment i need" kind of things. pick one. or both. tbh the adults suggested uhh like occupational therapy, and i got a list of therapists from my doctor. but my trust in any kind of help the adults try to give me is so fucking deteriorated that i cant imagine it ever actually helpoing me. and if i told that to an adult i know they would say some shit like " well i f you go in all negative of course its notgonna work!! you gotta want to heal for it to work" and oh my god im drviing myself into abreakdown here so haha i wish that the adults would fucking understand that i fucking have severe anxietyy and trust issues. and that not believing a form of therapy is going to help me, isnt the same thing as not wanting to be helped. do you fucking know how badly i jsut want someone to finally give me some type of actual support or aid or help oh my god. okay my fingers are getting really aggressive on the keyboard. im gonna go fr now. i fucking hate adults. and im tired. and i have trust issues. and i ahve anxiety. and while my medication does help me to go about my day a bit easier, because i dont find myself digging mental holes for myself. it doesnt help for shit when im in a situation that in and of itself is anxiety inducing for me. and i dont fucking like how i cant tell the difference in my mood between the lighter and stronger dose. because i cant fucking say that its not heloing. because i dont know that. oh my god i am so horrible at stopping myself from venting. going now. okay. bye.

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (58)

Series Master list

Satoru rolls over and props his head up with his palm. He traces an infinity symbol into Kagome's cheek. His fiancé. If he had a choice, which he likes to think that he does, she'll soon be his wife. They just need to get on a plane tomorrow and plan a quick destination wedding. He smiles softly, despite the anxiety thrumming through his veins.

Halloween.

His least favorite holiday. One in which every curse and curse user likes to mingle with all the unsuspecting civilians gathered together. And this year, the death of two students weighs heavily on his chest. They weren't even his responsibility, but he feels like something should have been done. As a whole, the jujutsu world is cold. It does not help that Gakuganji once again tried pinning everything on Yuji.

Have some curses become bolder? Sure. But the sutras they had wrapped around Sukuna's fingers were - are fading. That is not on Yuji.

It's just a fucked-up situation.

Satoru huffs.

"That better be a sigh of bliss," Kagome mumbles, nuzzling closer to his hand. "Pre-marital bliss." She laughs to herself.

He doesn't have the heart to tell her that her joke is not funny, though his heart jumps at the thought of them being practically married. Even Sesshomaru acknowledges that they are mates. For whatever reason, Sesshomaru's acknowledgment actually means something to him. Maybe it is because he can tell that Sesshomaru is strong. He has to be if they consider him the lord of demons.

Man, what he would give just to fight Sesshomaru just once to see how he stacks up against an ancient demon. He wonders just how old Sesshomaru is. Sometimes Shippo says some things that remind him that despite their youthful appearance, these demons are really freaking old.

"You're cute." He pinches her cheek. "Almost as cute as me."

"Oh, whatever." Kagome rolls over to her side. Satoru dips his head and kisses her neck; his hands caress her growing bump. "Tickles."

Kagome brushes his hands away, but he puts his hands right back where they belong. He does not think he will ever tire of touching her. Even if it is just a hand on her back, he just needs it as much as he needs air to breathe. Kagome is in his veins and he would not have any other way.

"I'll probably be late tonight. Halloween - all holidays really are pain." These days, he gets home late every day, but tomorrow they will be on a first-class ticket to somewhere far, far away from Japan. Probably the wrong time to be taking a vacation with all the shit going on, but if there's anything he's learned over the years is that there is always a problem that needs solving. Though this year he can delegate and not have to worry too much about the troubles his students might get into. That Shippo is turning out to be a pretty handy fox to keep around.

"That reminds me!" Kagome shimmies out of his hold and pulls out a necklace from the nightstand. "I got you something." She holds up the necklace. Now he can see that it is a locket.

Wait. He squints at it.

"Is this enchanted? It has your same glow." He sits up and takes it from her. It's gold and in the shape of a heart. Their names are etched onto both sides.

When did she buy this? He doesn't pay too much attention to the amount of money she spends, but surely, he would have noticed a jewelry purchase. Satoru runs his hands along the locket. This had to go for a hefty price. The craftsmanship is practically jumping off of the locket.

"Yep! It's made from my hair since I couldn't exactly donate one of my teeth to make it."

"I'm sorry what? His mouth drops open in shock and he can't do anything but stare at her.

Kagome beams at him, practically preening at her confession. She made this with her hair?

"Back up a second. What do you mean you made it from your hair? And teeth?"

The heck is she talking about? He wills the locket to share its secrets with him because there is absolutely no way that she had a locket made with her hair. Unless she put her hair inside of it? He pops it open, but the only thing inside is a picture of them on one side and a picture of their baby on the other.

He smiles despite himself seeing the life that they created. Satoru never imagined that he would be a father or even in a relationship, for that matter, but Kagome makes it hard to not love her.

"I didn't make it from my teeth, silly. I can't regrow my teeth like Sesshomaru and the others. So, I used my hair."

Gojo shuts his mouth and squints.

That explains the haircut.

"I wanted to give you a little more protection. And I know you're the strongest, but it would make me feel better knowing that you have some extra protection, just in case."

His heart skips a beat and then speeds up to regain its natural rhythm. She got him a gift that can help protect him? He clutches the locket. "Did you ask Sesshomaru to make it?"

"Oh, no." She laughs. "Sesshomaru is great at a lot of things, but sword making and such is so not his thing. I asked him if Totosai was around, so he took me to see him. Sesshomaru got a sword made, too, but he said it was not for him." Kagome leans in and whispers, "I think he's got a crush or something. He gave Totosai a tooth to have a special sword made."

Sesshomaru with a crush? Satoru grits his teeth to stop the laughter from bubbling over. Kagome looks so happy and earnest at this latest find, so he just let's her continue to gossip about who this mystery woman could be.

"She must be the complete opposite of him. I could not imagine him going for someone that says so few words. Nah, someone would have to be the talkative one of the pair."

"Maybe it is a gift for the baby?" He puts the locket on and gives a one shoulder shrug at her stupefied expression. "What? Shippo said that Sesshomaru was going to give the kiddo a dragon egg. Which dragons don't exist, right? Shippo was just fucking with me?"

"There are dragons. Though I'm surprised that Sesshomaru has an egg. Maybe Ah Un laid one?" She taps her finger to her lips. "I don't know that much about them. Maybe two headed dragons are just different."

... Two headed? Now his head hurts. How is he supposed to explain a dragon? He's still dodging questions about what kind of power Kagome has.

"But why would he give the baby a dragon egg? Where the heck would we even hide one of those? They are massive. And last I checked, they cannot shrink like Buyo Jr." Kagome continues to rant, all the while Satoru feels more dread building up in his gut.

Seriously, how is he supposed to hide a freaking dragon?

"And then Megumi-kun will take it and then we would have to figure out how to keep other people from worrying about why he has a dragon."

Megumi? Satoru coughs. Someone is still a little peeved that Buyo Jr. chose Megumi over them.

"We might look into rebuilding the clan house. There would be enough room for a dragon there." He hopes. The only thing he has to go off on is the dragons that he has seen in the media. "If you don't mind taking over that project."

"You want me to rebuild your clan house?"

"You'll be a Gojo soon. Not that I don't like we're we live, but if we are getting a freaking dragon or whatever creature your friends want to give to us, then we should probably look into a more secluded home."

While they are at it, maybe he will ask her to bless the area. Something about living in a spot where his clan members were brutally murdered seems like prime real estate for curse activity.

Kagome scrunches up her nose. He may not be a mind reader, but he can tell what kind of thoughts are running rampant in her mind. She has gotten more comfortable using his money- their money - but there are still times where she hesitates.

"It just seems really expensive, and you paid a lot of money for this house."

"Yeah, don't worry about a budget. I'll get you connected with a builder and you can go from there. The only thing I request is a similar bathroom set up." Finding a bathtub that can accommodate him can be difficult. Satoru leans over and kisses her cheek. She worries too much about such trivial things such as money. He has way more money than he could ever spend with being a special grade sorcerer and then having access to the Gojo clan's resources.

Money is the least of their worries.

"Well... okay," she says, though he can tell that she is still a little unsure.

"It would mean so much to me knowing that you are building the home for our children and their children."

"Aren't you going to be late for work?" Kagome huffs. The blush spreads across her face and dips down to her cleavage. It's crazy to him how flustered she gets.

"You're so cute." This time, he kisses her lips before sliding out of bed. He really, really, does not want to go into work today. He would rather get on the plane to their destination. Which he still does not know where they are going. Kagome said it was a surprise. He would follow to the south pole if she chose. Just as long as he is with her, he does not care where they are.

Satoru grabs his phone from his nightstand and pinches the bridge of his nose. A Shibuya kind of day, huh? He yawns and sets the phone back down. "Any plans for today?" he asks on his way to the bathroom. Go for causal, he tells himself. Up to him, he would have her stay in the house, but he knows if he tells her not to do something, the more likely she is to do that something.

Kagome is stubborn. She's lucky she is so cute.

"Sesshomaru mentioned going out because it is the one day that they do not have to wear their glamor out in public. I think they like to believe that they are getting over on the unsuspecting humans."

Satoru splashes water on his face. Makes sense. But he does not like it. "Cool, so you two are just gonna go sightseeing then?" He grabs his toothbrush and brushes his teeth.

"Yep! I'll even get to have my bow and no one will bat an eye," she replies, with so much joy in her voice that he keeps his concerns to himself. Sesshomaru would not let anything happen to Kagome, that much he knows.

"You gon wear a priestess outfit without me?" he asks, his voice slightly muffled from the toothbrush in his mouth.

Kagome sticks his head into the bathroom. "Is that code for role play? Big, bad, sorcerer, corrupts the pure priestess."

Satoru barks out a laugh. There is nothing pure about the things she does, but because he values his life, he keeps that opinion to himself as well. Rinsing his mouth, he reaches for a towel to wipe his face.

"Keep it up and I'll call in sick."

"You never get sick, remember?" Kagome laughs and side steps his attempt to grab her.

Tease.

It was not as though he was gonna bend her over the bathroom counter or anything, because he totally was - he still could...

His phone rings, forcing his thoughts to float away into the shoulda coulda box in his mind. "Seriously," he mumbles, hitting the light switch on his way out. Satoru hits the end button and shoots off a text to Ijichi instead.

One would think that Ijichi would know by now that he cannot be rushed. He'll start his day when he feels like it.

"Be nice to Ijichi," Kagome yells from downstairs and he's tempted to teleport to where Ijichi is just to bully him.

"I'm always nice." He trots down the stairs and heads towards the kitchen. "Coffee," he says, staring longingly at the coffee pot. "Join me in the bath after?"

Kagome snorts. "The faster you go in, the faster you'll get off, and the faster we'll be on the plane."

She's got him there.

"But we could meet up for lunch and you can see my outfit."

He pauses. Any other day he would agree without question, but today when something always wants to pop off? Ugh. "Maybe...my schedule is pretty packed today. I don't know if I'll have much of a lunch break today."

Kagome frowns and places her hands on her hip. "You don't want to get lunch with me?"

"I didn't say that." He jumps at the coffee pot dinging and grabs two mugs for them. "I'm just saying that we should play it by ear."

His phone rings again.

Can he just enjoy his morning?

"What?" he answers, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder while he prepares his and Kagome's coffees. He puts just a hint of sugar in Kagome's mug. Just because he likes a lot of sugar in his coffee, doesn't mean his baby should be getting a lot.

"We really need to get to Shibuya," Ijichi says, his voice just barely wavering. "I'm outside your house."

Satoru rolls his eyes. As if he didn't know Ijichi was outside his house.

"Like now? I've got at least another hour before work." Satoru winks at Kagome, ignoring the pang in his chest.

"Someone stole the bodies of Miwa and Mechamaru and strung them up outside the station."

"Sounds like someone is getting into the spirit of Halloween," he quips and exchanges his mug for a travel one instead. "I haven't even taken a bath yet."

"You take your baths at night," Kagome says.

"Gome-chan!" he admonishes, though he's sure Ijichi couldn't hear her. "Anyway, I'll be out. Give me a moment." He ends the call. Why didn't Ijichi open with that the first time? That is some shit you need to tell someone instead of pussyfooting around and saying we need to go to Shibuya today.

"Everything okay?"

"Hmm, yeah. Everything is fine. I just gotta go in early." He takes a big gulp of his coffee and grimaces from the scalding liquid. "Send me a picture of your outfit." He heads out of the kitchen without waiting for her answer.

Whoever stole those bodies must work for jujutsu high. Or they've been there before. Old students?

Satoru changes out of his pajamas and slides on his uniform. Tying his blindfold on as he walks, he takes two steps at a time.

Kagome greets him at the end of the staircase with his coffee and bento box. She must have prepared one for him last night.

"Here, just in case you can't make time for lunch," she says.

"You're too sweet to me," he admits, more so to himself. Most sorcerers live lonely lives and the ones that do have spouses tend to spur them, so to come home every day to a home filled with warmth feels like he hit the jackpot.

"Hey Gome-chan?"

Kagome tilts her head. Her hand hovers over the door.

"Do me a favor and stay out of Shibuya today." He presses a kiss to lips, silencing the protests he knows she was about to unleash on him. "I'll call you if I can make it for lunch."

Kagome pouts and opens the door for him. Ijichi stands upright by the car, engrossed in whatever conversation he is having on the phone.

"Promise me," he says, not helping himself.

"Yeah, yeah." Kagome waves him off. "Stay safe."

"Don't worry, I'm the strongest." The words roll off his tongue effortlessly.

Why should he worry? No one can touch him after all, and as long as Kagome stays far away from trouble, then everything will be just fine.

[randomkposts]

What do you think of inferiority complex in a fem mello?

What do you think of inferiority complex in a fem mello?

K:-What do I think of inferiority complex in a female Mello? I would say Mello has it, girl or guy. And it still acts as a foil to Lights. 

 Looked up symptoms for inferiority complex 

"Insecurity in relationships and low self-esteem

Inability to reach your goals, or feeling “stuck”

Wanting to give up easily

Assuming the worst

Feeling the need to withdraw in social situations

Often feeling down on yourself

Experiencing anxiety and depression

Being sensitive to criticism

Not taking compliments seriously

The following are also signs of an inferiority complex, though they are often mistaken for someone who seems overly confident:

Excessive competitiveness 

Perfectionism

Attention-seeking

Very sensitive to criticism

Constantly finding fault in others

Finding it difficult to admit mistakes

Feeling good about yourself when you’re doing better than others."

Looked up for superiority complex too

"A superiority complex is when someone acts better than others to escape feelings of insecurity.

Characteristics of a Superiority Complex

Making exaggerated claims of one’s accomplishments or abilities

Constantly comparing themselves with others

Overcompensating for real or imagined inadequacies

Disregarding others’ opinions or contributions and placing excessive value on their own

Overreacting to situations that dig deep into their insecurities

Dismissing, bullying, or putting down others who may be better at them at something

Engaging only in situations where they feel like they’re ahead or winning"

E:-Okay that makes a lot of sense in Mello and Light.

K:-I think we have made them more confidant as girls in some ways actually. 

Or at least more willing to give the social/middle finger, Snubbing wise. If that makes sense?

Of course with Light it's still pretty restrained, where Mello wants to deliberately break convention even more. 

Superiority complex could be discussed, but I think its pretty easy to see in Light, who could be hit with so many labels. I'm no psychologist, so it will be up to the writer what they want to explore. 

E:-Hell yeah more middle fingers for 2000's society. 

K:- Inferiority complex, that's already a trait of Mello.  Male or female. 

I don't think I've mixed up the core traits for the characters, just how they manifest due to gender expectations and environment. 

And sure there will be some changes  

And Mello would be a different person if different symptoms of the inferiority complex manifested. As would Light.

If I were doing that though, I would also feel a need to change how other characters' traits came through, and that would probably be a whole other AU.

But like, most of the signs on the second part of the list do characterize a lot of Mellos relationship towards Near... and Light towards L

E:-True true. The whole au would need a revamp for everyone if we did that. Or some characters stay the same except for some. 

K:- that could be interesting, but I'd rather not. Not unless your really invested in it, Eclipse. 

E:-Maybe not. Seems like a behemoth to do !

K:- I'll make a list to finish this off. 

Excessive competitiveness: -

Mello- would rather run away and join the mafia then join forces with the rival. 

Light:- oh boy, so many examples. I think I will go with the tennis match, though, as that was loaded. 

Perfectionism:- more of a Light thing, or at least seen on screen.

Makes me wonder how that might have manifested when Mello ran the Mafia. 

Attention seeking:- the Death Note had potential to be a lot subtler then the way Light used it. That's not even getting Into how L baited him on Live TV. That is very attention seeking. 

Mello does not shy away from being flashy either, alongside joining the Mafia. 

Sensitive to criticism:- I'm reminded of a scene in the Manga where Light's father expresses negative opinion about Kira followed by Light writing in the Death Note. He did not take that well. 

Mello did not take it well that he alone was not enough to succeed L and left over it. 

Constantly finding fault in others:-

Oh boy, Light's Ego. Light despairs of most people, but especially girls.

 We don't see it as much in Mello, as we just don't see Mello as much on screen, but I would imagine it's there. 

Difficult to admit mistakes:- I remember one scene where Misa pointed out something Light had overlooked, and he told her he had thought of it, while internally thinking damn, she caught it and I didn't. 

Mello:- let's be real, he kept escalating. So did Light, but let's be real, it's where the drama comes from. 

Feeling good about yourself when doing better than others. Ties very much into the first point for both. 

Did I miss anything you think is relevant?

E:-Damn K that's a good list. Not that I can think of. 

[watiamdoingwithmylife666]

Hello !! I saw your Headcanon for Aot and I thought about how they would react if the reader (their s/o) saved their life ! Like for once they are the one needed to be saved and you save the day and all ! thank youuu !

Hii, I did my best, i hope you like it!

Warning: grammar error / curse?

Eren

Knowing Eren as much as you do make you always looking after him. And it has been useful a lot of time. But this time even more. You were together wandering in the city during your day off. Everything was fine, both of you were enjoying the sunny day. But that's until a group of men jumps on you and tried to put Eren in the back of the cart that pulls over a little bit further. You quickly fight back and manage to overcome two of them. After that You rush by Eren's side who was struggling to fight back against three other guys, together you briefly knock those guys before escaping in a hurry.

When you finally get back to the survey corp, you go warn the captain about what happened in the city. It's only after that you could have some peaceful time with Eren to talk about what happened.

"Thanks... For... You know, what you did. Thank you."

Jean

It's not unusual that you save Jean, or Jean saves you. You two are always here to save the ass of the other. Always grateful, he mostly repays you with extra food or doing a chore that you really don't want to do. But on a particular expedition, when things were heat, you didn't saw Jean anywhere in the field. The stress took over you and your eyes are scanning the area for more information. That's when you finally get your eyes on him that your heart dropped. Jean was in a bad state, you did as fast as you could to get him and bring him to the infirmary. He did lose a lot of blood, but he wasn't in danger anymore.

You decided to stay by his side the whole afternoon, you needed to be sure he was okay. So when he woke up, you had a big smile on your face, and he smiled back at you. Jean wanted to talk but his mouth was dried, you had to make him drank some water before he could finally talk.

"Damn, if I knew they had a pretty nurse here I would have come more often" you laugh at his remark, he was always playing the tough guy, even when he was hurt. "Thank you. You saved me again, it's like what? 7 for you and ... 5 for me?" He laughs but he looked sad now. "Maybe I'm not made for the survey corps... You gonna get tired to save my life when I can't even do it by myself..."

Sasha

Not that much to say, she will be grateful would do the same for you anytime. The situation doesn't even matter, if you save her, her eyes gonna be quickly wet and she will cry saying thank you for what you did. But don't hope that she will give you any food as a gift.

"Thank you! thank you so much! I always knew you were the best here!"

Mikasa

Mikasa was surrounded by titans, I mean everybody was in a difficult situation. But when you saw Mikasa in danger your blood run cold and join her in the middle of her surrounding. She was yelling at you to go away, that she can totally handle it on her own. But there is no way you leave her side. Slicing Titan's naps, again and again, You probably never killed that many titans in so little time, but the fact that Mikasa was in danger made you turn in the best soldier mode. Finally, when the danger was away from the two of you, you didn't take time to talk, other comrades needed your help right now. It's only on your way back that you felt something off. Most of the time, if it's not every time; Mikasa asked you if you are okay, or if you had been hurt. But not this time. She's next to you on her horse, but she doesn't look at you not even a glance. She's looking straightforward and that's all.

That's only later that day, just after diner, that your silent treatment was ending. She sat on her bed and asked you to sit next to her. She finally talked

"What you did today... It scared me. I thought I'd lose you, but you need to understand! I can't lose you! If you had been hurt today, it would have been because of me, and I couldn't handle the fact that I failed to protect you."

Levi

He would be so pissed off. His ego would be the problem. But he will never show you that. He gonna keep to himself the fact that you had to save him because he was careless, and he gonna be even rougher on himself with the training because that means he fails his team.

The situation would have happened outside of the wall, in the forest, where everyone was separated, and when everything gets overwhelming for everyone including you and Levi. It's not that he never face that many enemies at the same time. It's mostly because he was far too much tired, this boy didn't sleep well for a long time plus he was fighting all day. He was pushing his luck too far, and that is why you kept an eye on him, in case of something dramatic happened you could be there for him. And you were right. Too many things happened at the same time. That's how Levi didn't saw a titan behind him and kept fighting until he catches a glance at you at full speed coming near him. The look that crosses his face the moment he realizes what you did. His heart stopped for a second.

"thank you."

But even after saying thank you, when you get back home at the SC, he would asked you if he can offer a cup of tea as a thank.

"Thank you again Y/N, you fought well."

Erwin

This bitch had the audacity to say that he can be replaced. So let take this scene. Erwin just gave the order to charge and save Eren, the titan bite his arm, and you immediately turn over to follow him telling everyone that you're going to save him. Following him, you can see that he managed to get away from the titan. He was now yelling at you that you disobey, that you put yourself in danger for him, and that it was stupid. But before he could finish, some titans approach the two of you real quick making Erwin fall. You put yourself between him and the threat just in time, cutting the naps of any titans coming nearby your commander. As soon as possible you help Erwin to get back on his horse and do the same; Calling for retreat You keep an eye on him the whole way back within the wall. You can clearly see he doesn't feel good. His face is vivid, his eyes grow tired. So you're going with Erwin on his horse. The commander is big and you have some difficulties keeping him straight, you can feel his body becoming heavier the more you advance. You talk to him, ask him to not fall asleep, and he swears he does his best, but the rush of adrenaline that kept him awake fades with time.

Later that week, when you can finally see him you rush to his room. Levi just left, leaving you and the commander alone. He doesn't say a word at first, but when he finally breaks the silence he breaks your heart with it.

"I had time to think in this state. A part of me wants to say thank you for what you did. You fought well, kept me in security, and even took care of bringing me back... But it was stupid. You put yourself in danger for me when I am nothing more than your commander. Eren was in danger, and our best chance for the future, he was the best option to save. Not me, not after leading so many peoples to their death."

Miche

He has been in a difficult situation, but this time he was wondering how he could possibly survive. His squad and he had been separated. He was now alone smelling like two or three titans coming right in his direction. And the cherry on top, he was on the verge to running of out of gas. He can't see any of his comrades anywhere, his brain shows every possibilities. But the best is still going away by horse and try to find other soldiers. And luckily on his way, he crosses your path and feels relief. A part of him was scared that something happened to you. But just when he sighed, an abnormal titan runs straight to you. Both of you are now ready to fight and when you engage it the titan grabs Miche's wire. With its other hand, the titan grabs Miche's body and brings it to its mouth. But just before the worst happens you slice the nape and catch Miche before he gets crushed by the titan's body.

"It was close... Thank you y/n... Without you, I would have probably not made it alive."

Hange

Oh, welcome to the club, Moblit is the president of the club. Hange is reckless inside the wall when they do their experiments. But outside it's a little bit different. They're more aware of their surrounding. Saving them would happen quite some times. But this time was out of the ordinary. During the first test of the thunder spear, Hange was dangerously close to the spear. Moblit was yelling, as usual, to put some distance with the explosive. But as expected Hange didn't listen. And the spear was just a prototype, at this time, explode. Thank god you were fast, jumping on Hange to take them further. Their eyes were wide open, their look fulls of guiltiness. Moblit joins the two of you quick, asking if any of you had been hurt.

"I am so sorry Y/N, really! I put you in unnecessary danger, I hope you are okay? did you get hurt? Let me take you to the infirmary just in case, please!"

Moblit

Oh sorry, you thought you could save him? This boy is not a titan nor an Ackerman. But he doesn't need that. He is the assistant of Hange, what are you expecting from him? He doesn't need "instinct" like Levi or Mikasa. He got Anxiety, that far better. Every worst scenario happens? He already had them in his mind. The only thing that gets him, it if HE decides to. (like sacrifice himself for hange)

But if you happen to save his ass. Damn he gonna be grateful.

"I am really sorry Y/N, I've been careless. I hope you are not mad at me. I'm so grateful you were here it could have been disastrous... Thank you so much."

Kenny

Kenny and you know each other, not even for illegal things, you just happened to meet him and be nice to him that you became some kind of ... Friends? I mean you don't know shit about his life but it's the same for him. So friends is probably a big word.

But the time you saved him... You didn't really do it on purpose. His squad was at Trost and yours too. He was chasing after a bad guy (how ironic) and you were chasing after a group of people that stole something from the SC. You were running on the roofs using your equipment to go faster. You did not notice on your peripheral vision another group of persons using ODM, no your mind thought it was your squad. So, when a guy appears on the other side pointing a gun in your direction, you didn't think twice. Firing your ODM hook in his leg, before kicking him in the face. But that when you realize. The people approaching weren't your squad. Those were complete strangers.

" Y/N ? What the Fuck are you doing here ?!" you knew this voice and you jump to see his face.

"what? I fucking saved your life, the least you can do is to say thank you! "

"YOU WHAT ? You didn't do shit!"

"This bullet was meant for YOU!"

"You can't prove that, i'm not saying thank you."

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 8

Ch.1      Ch.2      Ch.3      Ch.4      Ch.5      Ch.6      Ch.7

It has come to a point where you can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t care for her.

All the time you spend with Cassandra every evening has made certain feelings impossible to deny, though you are too scared to name them all.

You don’t name the smile you can’t contain when she excitedly pulls you to the armory to show you her collection of blades –and explains, in a very animated fashion, about the optimal use for each one. You don’t want to know what the stutter in your heartbeat means, every time she genuinely laughs, pale neck thrown back, nose slightly scrunched and all. 

And it’s not just Cassandra you grow a tad closer to.  

Bela comes to you whenever the two of them have argued and goes ‘Tell my sister’ this or that. Daniela is apparently not allowed within a twenty meter radius of you, but she approaches to poke and prod at you whenever she wants to annoy Cassandra. She never manages to do either, because the middle sister always swoops in, fuming, dragging her away by the hood of her robes like a kitten.

Lady Dimitrescu is the only one as distant as the day you first saw her –and it’s probably for the better. You don’t see her much, anyway, not with how Cassandra takes you to empty castle wings to have you all to herself.

Tonight is different.

After dinner, Bela leaves with her mother and you go to help the other maids present clean the table. But your lover steps in the way and grabs your elbow, instead, hurriedly pulling you along.

“Do not tell me you’re seriously thinking to make me wait longer.” she says.

Of course, you promised to watch a movie you found on your phone with her and she’s been buzzing with impatience since.

That is, until a certain redhead blocks your way. 

“Daniela, move.” Cassandra huffs. 

“What are you doing? Take me with you.” the younger sister replies, brimming with childlike curiosity. 

“No. Go bother Bela.” A shooing motion is made. 

“Bela’s no fun. I wanna come with you and Alexia.” she drops your name so casually it’s startling.

“Wait give me a moment to think about it –moment over. No.” Cassandra states, fast.

But Daniela shoots forward and grabs your arm like a koala. Your eyes go wide at the same time as Cassandra’s, for different reasons.

The brunette immediately grips her sister’s robes, none-too-gently. “Don’t touch her, she’s mine!”

“If you don’t take me along I’m telling mother where you found that music player and phone!” Daniela answers, her hold enough to cut off your blood flow.

You send Cassandra a pleading look before they break your arms with how they’re tugging at you.

“On one condition.” the elder sister holds a finger up to her sibling’s face. “You sit next to me and you don’t move around.”

“…she’s warm, though.” Daniela says, all but pouting. “Mother says sharing is caring~”

“Find your own human.” Cassandra growls out as the three of you make your way to the main hall and the couch adjacent to the fireplace there.

“You and Bela have gotten the prettier ones!”

“You snooze, you lose.”

Cassandra quite literally pins you to the arm of the couch with her body, to keep Daniela as far away from you as possible. Even as the movie starts, you can feel her sulking by your neck for not being able to touch you the way she wants.

You are not as focused on the movie as you are cute way she plays with your hand throughout its duration.

-

-

It’s getting harder and harder to remind yourself of what they are.

Especially when, ten minutes after the credits have rolled, Daniela is still crying over the death of the protagonist. Even Bela comes to the hall and asks Cassandra what she did to her.

By the time she’s done dealing with her sisters, your lover comes to you sporting a headache.

“We’re leaving this wing right now.” Cassandra says and that is about all the warning you get.

The next second you feel a rush of air and your stomach leaping to where your heart is supposed to be; Your eyes only make out a blur and an augur of black flies.

When she comes to a halt you crash into Cassandra’s side with a gasp. Your arm aches from the pull. The world spins for ten solid seconds.

She laughs by your ear. Low and satisfied as it is at your disorientation –it reminds you of drinking wine by a fire in the heart of winter— you can’t help but bask in the timbre of her voice so close.

“Ugh, why is it so cold in here?” she complains in that same quiet tone you love.

It is very cold compared to the more lived in parts of the castle, but your body is warm enough from your sustained proximity and the rush of adrenaline she always causes in you.

“Oh, well, I can bear it for a little while if it means we won’t be interrupted.” Cassandra trails off and lifts your chin with a chilled finger.

Your lips meet and slide together in a practiced tango. Her manicured nails run over your throat and shoulders, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the temperature.

Both of you are starting to get really into it when Cassandra walks you back into the nearest wall. It happens to be a window, covered by a flimsy curtain. You have half a mind to realize it’s probably been forgotten slightly ajar, judging from the frost that graces your shoulder, but you have more important matters to focus on, like the brush of her tongue over your bottom lip.

Until Cassandra braces her bare hand over the unseen opening, to box you in like she usually does.

And-

She shrieks.

She jerks away so powerfully her back crash-lands into the painting on the far wall, knocking it down with its frame broken. You’re left there still and mute, watching in frozen horror as her face distorts into pure, raw anguish.

“Shut it!” Cassandra screams at you. “Shut it now, now!”

Your nerves suddenly kick into overdrive and you pull the window closed like your life depends on it.

What just… happened...?

In slow, cautious steps, you approach her. She’s clutching her hand like a wounded animal, baring its teeth to hide its vulnerability. It is the first time you see her like this. Void of control, bent over in hurt. Gasping.

Something in your chest breaks.

You look at her hand, to find her pale skin nearly crystallized, grey and breaking apart —like cheap china, like weak porcelain— into flies that drop to the floor, faintly twitching.

You thought… you thought they could just control the insects. That dissipating into swarms was just a trick allowed by their mutation. But now you realize, the flies are her body.

All this time trapped under the looming terror of the daughters… and escape was as easy as opening a window on them.

“Cassandra…?” you ask in a wavering voice when the initial burst of rage leaves her form.

She looks up at you, torn, when you hear the heavy sound of heels rapidly approaching.

“Cassandra?!” a different voice calls, this time, deep and authoritative. When Lady Dimitrescu rounds the corner in her immense height, your instincts scream to run.

But one look at Cassandra makes you stay.

Alcina halts for a moment to take in the scene. Then her lips curl downwards and bladed claws extend from her gloves, easily half your body in length. 

Oh my… God…

“What did you do to my daughter?!” she demands and advances on you, but Cassandra gets in front of you before she can truly threaten your life.

“I brought her here, mother. It’s my fault.” she hurries to explain.

Alcina stares at you like she wants to crush you underfoot… but then softens, somewhat, at the look her daughter is giving her.

“Come with me. Now.” She says in a stern motherly tone that leaves no room for objections.

You clutch Cassandra’s uninjured hand, silently asking if she’ll be alright. She turns, looks at you for a moment, then nudges your head with hers.

“...I’ll see you later, Alexia.”

But, as it turns out... “later” is subjective.

 -

-

 In Alcina’s Private Chambers…

It is not often that Cassandra is reprimanded by herself. 

She has never before been the only one at fault. She’s used to having her sisters beside her while Alcina scolds the three of them… except this time they’re outside the closed door and she is there to face their mother’s ire alone.

She can’t stay still under that yellowish-grey, narrowed gaze. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her robes’ sleeve to keep occupied, while Alcina takes that deep, calming breath she knows heralds no good things. Ever.

“Cassandra. Do you understand the severity of the situation?”

“Yes, mother.” She keeps her gaze downcast.

“Even if the maid didn’t harm you on purpose, she now knows your weakness. Yours and your sisters’. You were careless to allow this.” Cassandra feels anxiety rise up from the pit of her stomach and threaten to swallow her whole at that tone.

“I know, mother. Forgive me.” she replies quietly.

She wants to say that Alexia won’t use this knowledge against any of them, but she cannot bring herself to lie to Alcina. Because the truth is, Cassandra doesn’t know for a fact that she will not.

Why was that window open? Why?!

“You didn’t let me fix your mistake. I assume that means you will do it yourself?” her mother asks and Cassandra’s gaze snaps up.

What…?

At first, the temptation to chain Alexia up and watch as her blood drained from her lithe body had been sweet and strong. But now, at the thought of killing her –losing her— in whichever way, Cassandra is sick to her stomach. It is strange, because she feels like she is hyperventilating when she isn’t breathing at all and the world has tilted and—

Please don’t.

“Since when did you ever hesitate to kill, Cassandra?”

“…If.. that is what you ask of me…” she replies but she doesn’t sound like herself at all, not even to her own ears.

“How can I ask that of you and break your heart?” Alcina throws her arms up in exasperation. “I should have stopped this months ago but I thought it a fleeting fancy. I never imagined you would end up so attached.”

“I’m- I’m not-” she tries to protest, but her mother is having none of it.

“You’re not? You’re with her every day and she barely sports scratches anymore. Your eyes follow her everywhere when she’s in the same room. You instinctively lean closer whenever she comes over to refill your wine. Do you think I do not notice?” Of course. Of course she noticed.

Cassandra swallows, silent.

The memory of laying, too weak to move a single finger, on her deathbed along with Bela and Daniela pierces through Cassandra’s brain like a bullet. Her hand gives a violent spasm and flies break off to buzz frantically around her as she drops her forehead into her palm.

She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and it’s just so difficult without her sisters there. They’ve always been together, since the very beginning.

They were born together, learned to control their powers together, they died together-

Alcina is on one knee in front of her the next millisecond, stroking her hair and gathering her into her arms.

“Shh, calm down, my love.” she coos. “I’m sorry to be so harsh on you. I only want the best for you three.”

Cassandra doesn’t talk because she can’t, because she cannot wrap her head around what that flash inside her brain was.

“Oh, my Cassandra. I will not harm the maid if it will harm you, too.”

She waits for the eventual ‘but’.

“But I cannot let this dalliance continue any longer.”

It’s probably for the best. Her mother knows best. It is true, after all, that she has not been acting like herself, lately. So, yes, this decision is for her own good.

But.

Cassandra’s heart has the same reaction upon hearing it as being exposed to sub-zero winter air.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

[houdinicorbini]

Comforting silence

Aesop Carl x Reader

A happy au where everyone lived and escaped the manor Trigger warnings: mentions of abuse and (slight) cursing

Oh, how you just wanted this day to end already. It was only 10 in the morning, but things were already going downhill. Someone you had hoped to never see again randomly showed up on your doorstep hoping to 'reconcile' with you. Though that's the same excuse they had used before just so they could do the same shit again. It was a vicious cycle and after all these years, you had hoped it was finally over. "I said no. I am very busy and cannot leave right now." You say for the umpteenth time. You felt many things while being in front of this person. Anger, disgust but most importantly, fear. Fear that you were caught in their lying web again with no way out. And while you were very much free now, there was that thought in the back of your mind saying you were never really free. That they just wanted you to believe that. You wanted to say something like, "If you truly have then you would just leave alone" but you knew there would be problems that would arise after saying something like that. "If you were to just give me a chance!" They begged, "I've changed! I promise you!" "I am fairly busy today, maybe some other time when I don't have so much work-" They cut you off by forcing themselves more into the door frame. You felt something inside you awaken at the thought of them invading your home. Like a fight or flight sense that was doing its best to take control of your body and its actions. "I'm sure you can cut in some time for me," They persisted "We could-" It was your turn to cut them off. "I already said that I can't multiple times, now if you could kindly get out of my door and leave me alone-" "I am trying to make amends!" They suddenly shouted "But you were always so selfish! That's why nothing ever worked out!" You were taken aback by their sudden outburst. What took you back even more was how they changed their composure back to how it was before they snapped. That same deceiving smile was adorning that bastard's face once more. "Now, if we could just," Them placing their hand on your arm was just what you needed to lose whatever composure you had. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" You screamed as you push them out of the doorway. You gave them no time to recover as you slammed that door to lock it. There was just strings of curses and loud banging coming from outside. You backed away, still in shock of what happened and what was still going on in that moment. You locked yourself in your room as you waited for this whole ordeal to sort itself out. You were trying to keep your mind from drifting to the possibility of them breaking into your home. You weren't exactly sure when the yelling and banging had stopped. It could have been hours ago or maybe it had just stopped. You slowly and quietly leave your room to investigate the front door. Cautiously looking out your window beside it to make sure they were indeed gone. Satisfied that they were, you retreated back into your room. Whatever energy you once had was completely gone now. As you walked back in, the sound of knocking could be heard once more. While it was much softer than the previous ones, that didn't mean a wave of anxiety shot through you. Given the last time. Panicking, you plastered yourself in the corner of your room that would be hidden when the door first opens, giving you time to collect yourself if the situation called for you to get out. You failed to hear the sound of the front door opening and the footsteps that were slowly going around your house. Still lost in your thoughts of how you can escape your own home, you were unaware of the jiggling and turning of the handle. It wasn't until the door opened that you were finally pulled back into reality. Those plans to escape just left. As if they were never there. You were too scared to move, you wanted to leave so bad, but you no longer had control over your own body. Staring at the floor, you started shaking profusely. You could've sworn you heard someone say your name, but it all sounds like white noise. Familiar shoes come into view. As you start to realize who

they belong to, a hand on your shoulder made you come back to reality once again. Which also caused your arm to have a mind of its own. But it seemed the person has quick reflexes of their own. Looking up, you see your significant other with an incredibly worried expression adorning his features. "A-Aesop?" You mutter out in a shaky voice. You were quickly met with a tight embrace, whatever awkwardness he used to have in his hugs, gone from years of dating. You were stiff at first from all of the confusion, but soon relaxed into his grip. All of those built-up emotions finally let themselves out as you cried and cried into his shoulder. This, of course, caught Aesop off guard. But that didn't mean he didn't do his best to comfort you. Feeling yourself getting lifted up, you clung onto your lover as he walked you over to your bed and laid you down. He had some trouble trying to pry you off of him so he could get on the bed with you. With a slight huff, he had to wrap his arms around you and rolled over on the bed. You, now laying on top of him, shoved your head into his chest. Aesop knew you were someone who needed to calm down first before asking what's wrong or what happened. So, he did his best to try and relax you until you felt comfortable enough to tell him what had happened before he arrived. You have told him about your past before, everything that had happened and everything that person did to you. And he was very understanding, made you feel safe while you opened up. But he never truly expressed how angry he was when finding out what that person did to you. Not with words at least. His body language said everything he couldn't. Running his gloved hands in a soothing motion on your back, he patiently waited until you were ready to talk. You sobs start to become more quieter the more circles he traces on your back. He truly didn't need to use his voice to help you calm down. He always knew how to make you feel loved without having to say the words. It was rather comforting just staying in this position. Just hearing the beating of his heart was enough to calm you down. You knew that you should tell him what happened, but you wanted to stay like this. With a hard sigh and a sniffle of your nose, you explain everything to him. From when that person came back and to what happened when they were forced out. You started crying once more as you relayed everything. And just like before when you opened up to him, he was patient with you now. Continuing to rub your back as you told him how scared you were, what all that was going through your mind. He made sure you felt safe and loved as you talked and cried. After finishing, you placed your head back onto his chest. completely exhausted from today's events. You closed your eyes, hoping that a new day would start when you opened them again. Aesop resumed what he was doing before to make sure you were comfortable. Feeling a kiss on your head, you let out a content sigh before you fell yourself getting even more tired. This is what you needed. Just you, him, and this comforting silence.

[rezzyromance]

Maybe if you have the time could you do a part 2 to the heisenberg diary one? It's really cute :3

Absolutely! Ask and you shall receive!

(If you are looking for Part 1 you can find it here. Thanks.)

Part 2 Of Karl finding the readers diary

(CW: Sex) NSFW +18

Hey guys! So many of you requested for a part 2 and honestly it made my day. As someone who doesn't write smut often, I am definitely not well versed in all the different "types". That being said, I'm definitely not confident enough to tackle male on male sexual scenarios yet. I try to keep all of my stories gender neutral unless asked for differently, but I have no clue how to write gender neutral sex. With all that being said, the sex that happens in this story will present the reader as someone with female anatomy. I'm sorry if this isn't what some of you were looking for. I will be writing sexual stories in the future where the reader is male, but I'll need time. So sorry for the inconvenience and I hope this doesn't disappoint.- R

After you were sure Karl was far away from the door, you run to shut it, feeling ashamed of your secret being found out. You almost feel like you could cry out of embarrassment. You let out a sigh and begin to get dressed in the clothing he previously grabbed for you. Once you're dressed, you curl up on the bed and try to gather your thoughts and emotions. Obviously he wasn't upset about your feelings. So, does that mean he doesn't hate you or think of you any less? What does this mean for your future? Can you even look at him after this? You groan and shove your face into your pillow.

Meanwhile, he was in his workshop, grinning ear to ear. He wanted to keep teasing you, seeing how far he could push you, but at the same time he didn't want to genuinely make you uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to drive you away, especially now that he's starting to feel strange. Could he possibly be falling for you too? He ignores this thought and begins to work on a new project, a gift for you.

A few hours go by and you haven't left the bd. You hear a knock on the door and stay silent, still embarrassed about the whole situation. The door slowly opens and Karl peaks through. "Hey.. wanna talk?", he asks awkwardly. "No." "Good because I'm shit with words.", he opens the door completely and begins to walk towards you with a hand suspiciously behind his back. "Did you come in here just to fuck with me again?", you snap, sitting up and resting your back against the headboard. He smiles at your attitude and sits beside you on the bed. "Well, I'm very tempted to. But, I came here to give you this.", he moves the hand behind his back to the front, handing you a gift. It was a little metal figure of your favorite animal that he just made.

You take it into your hands and hold it, gazing upon every detail. Why would he make you something so nice? Especially after he learned how you felt? Could this be some type of confession on his part?

You hold the little metal animal close and and look up at him. He was staring at your face the whole time, analyzing your reaction. A smile slowly formed on your face and you move forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him. This caught him off guard and his mouth slightly gapes open. Positive physical contact was a foreign concept to him, but he loved it. He moves a hand and places it on your back. "Thank you so much, Karl. I love it." "No problem, Buttercup."

Your face grows so hot from the sudden new nickname that he can feel the heat radiating off of you. You pull away and he chuckles at your blushed face. "You're so easy to make flustered." he says. His words make you cross your arms and look away. "Oh shut up!", you hiss. His face doesn't change from its usual smug look. "Why don't you make me?", he hums. You snap your face towards his, shocked at his boldness. "I know you want to. In fact, I know you want a lot more than just that. You made it pretty clear in those pages. So tell me (Y/N), is it true? Do you really want me that badly?"

You feel as if you've stopped breathing. You're frozen in place, stuck in the middle of wanting to kiss him and wanting to slap him. Your silence only makes him smile bigger as he watches you grow more and more flustered. "You don't have to be shy. Though it's really cute that you are.", you watch as his gloved hand extends towards your face, gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

He leans in closer, almost grazing your lips with his. His eyes are fixed on your red face, burning into your soul. "What do you want?", he hums. You can barely hear him over the sound of your own heartbeat. "I want you.", you finally whisper. "That's what I thought.", he grins and breaks the distance between the both of you by placing his lips to yours. You don't fight it and instead lean into it, intertwining your fingers in his hair eagerly. You feel him smile against your lips and his hand moves from your chin to your waist, causing you to flinch under his touch.

He pulls away but keeps his face close to yours. "I take it that you're not as pissed as I thought, right?", he snickers. "No I'm still pretty pissed at you." you say as you try to stifle a smile. "If that's the case then you must want me to just get up and leave you alone.", his body begins to shift away and you grip onto his coat. "Wow you're even more needy in real life than you are on paper." You tug on his coat harder, signaling for him to get closer.

He responds by taking his coat off completely and throwing it to the side. With his back now to the headboard and his legs outstretched in front of him, you crawl over to him and straddle his lap. You look at his face and begin to rub your thumb over the scar on his lip. The scar you had mentioned as your favorite. He goes to kiss your finger, but you move it away. "Aw come on. I won't bite. Even if you feel like I'm the predator to your prey.", he teases. "Shit, he really did read my diary huh.", you think to yourself. He could tell what you were thinking as your face grew more and more flushed. "Now don't get all embarrassed on me now. The fun's just getting started. After all, all you want is me, right?", he places his hands gently on your lower back, slowly lowering them towards your ass as he scans your face, making sure you're still okay. "You're quoting it like it's scripture.", you smile. "They might as well be. Good words to live by."

You smile and place your hands on his shoulders, leaning over to kiss him once again. While you were still nervous, you decided to let a little of your anxiety drift away as you grow more and more comfortable. You begin to unbuckle his pants and pull on his shirt, untucking it. He pulls away from you to help you out and completely removes his shirt, throwing it close to his coat. The kiss resumes as you fiddle with the button of his pants, finally unbottoning them.

Suddenly, he grips your waist and tosses you lightly to the side. He gets off of the bed and pulls you closer to him with your legs, causing you to squeal. An idiotic smile is plastered across his face as he unbottons your pants effortlessly. His fierce eyes had a glimmer in them that caused goosebumps to rise all over your skin. Soon, your pants are completely pulled off. He pulls your legs again, causing the lower half of your body to be dangling off the side of the bed. You wrap your legs around him and he leans down, placing messy kisses across your neck. Breathy moans leave your lips as you feel his bulge sit against your now barely clothed privates.

You look up at the sight in front of you. You could see each and every scar that laid on his skin in so much more detail than before. He watched your eyes wander around his body and felt his pride somehow grow stronger as you grew more and more flustered. With one hand, he begins to rub one of your thighs, with the other, he slides up inside your sweater and begins to fondle your breast. He made sure to show some extra attention to your nipple, using his rough and calloused fingers to play with it as you squirmed and whined. "Alright. Enough fucking around.", his hands leave your skin. All it took was a second for your body to miss his touch. Now, his hands were fondling with his pants, unbuttoning and removing them.

The sight you were met with was intimidating. You lifted your head up and swallowed anxiously. His bulge was so big you could almost see the details of his cock as it was pressed against the fabric of his boxers. The tip was peaking out from the waistline, leaking a few drops of precum. You clutch the sheets beneath you in anxious anticipation. He takes a few steps to go back to his previous position of entanglement with you. Even though he didn't have to take many steps, maybe 3 or 4 at most, he walked with a confident stride that both terrified you and brought a smile to your face.

"What's with the grin? You want me to fuck you that bad?", he moves his hands back under your sweater and begins to grope each of your breasts. You nod, too flustered and shy to verbally say yes. "Aw come on. That's all you got?", he leans forward slightly to place his hand on your throat, applying pressure to each side of your neck. "I want to hear you beg for it.", he begins to rub his bulge against your soaked panties. Your legs twitch slightly as you stumble on your words. "Pl-please...", you manage to say. "What do you want?", he squeezes harder, enough to cause your body to tense up but not enough to actually cause any harmful lack of airflow. "I want you.. to f-fuck me... please..", you say. "Good girl.", he lets go of your throat and begins to pull his boxers down to his knees.

You take a deep breath as you feel his tip graze your entrance. Suddenly, your breath hitches as your whole body is pulled towards him, causing you to take almost all of him in at once. You gasp and he looks at your face, making sure your pleasure was overpowering the pain. Once he knows for sure that you're okay, he pushes the rest of him in. With his dick now fully lubricated with your wetness, he grips your thighs and begins to pound into you.

You grip onto the sheets for dear life as you feel him stretch you. You can hear him grunting under his breath with each thrust. His movements were brutal. You felt like you could feel him in your stomach, intruding on your organs as they tied in knots. Without stopping, he leans down again to nip at the skin of your neck.

You whimper under his teeth, knowing he plans on leaving marks for you to discover later. "You like this? Is this what you fantasized?", he switches in between kissing and biting all over your neck. "Mhm", you whimper. His face moves lower, traveling to your breast. He begins to nibble at your sensitive nipple. You wrap your arms around him and respond with a loud moan as you dig your nails into his back. He winces, but enjoys the feeling.

He continues to restlessly pound into you. The air is filled with moans, whines, grunts, slurred swears, and the sound of your skin slapping against his. He moves his hand in-between your legs, placing his thumb against your clit. This simple action alone is enough to make your whole body jolt. He continues to rub it, watching and listening closely to figure out what works best on you. He sticks to whatever makes you scream the louds and grip onto him the hardest. Your body shakes beneath him as it is overstimulated with pleasure, close to reaching it's peak.

He abrupt stops and pulls out. Before you begin to complain, he makes his way onto the bed and sits up, wiggling his fingers breathlessly to signal for you. "Come here.", he says. Once you're in reaching distance, he grabs you by the arms and pulls you closer. You sit down on his cock, dying for more. You both moan, nearly harmonizing as you take in his girth. "Bounce on it. I know you want it.", he says. You do as he says and begin to bounce up and down, feeling your walls squeeze onto his hard, throbbing erection. "Aw fuck yeah.", he moans and lays his head back, closing his eyes tightly as you use him to fuck your brains out. He opens them again to look at your boobs. It's almost hypnotizing to him the way they bounce. "Aw fuck.. look at you.. so desperate to cum.", he says in-between deep, breathy moans. "Bouncing on my cock like a good little whore. Show me how much you want it.", he slaps your ass hard. You pick up the pace after gasping from his harsh hit, your ass cheek stinging from where his hand struck.

He leaned forward and began to bite on different parts of you boobs, leaving soon-to-be hickeys all over your chest. This makes your knees weak. Your legs shake as you struggle to continue to ride out your high. You could tell by the way that your insides burned and ached that you were so close to cumming, but you were even closer to running out of steam. He could see your struggles, so he decided to help out. He grips you harshly by the hips and begins to thrust upwards, slamming right into the spot you so desperately wanted to be touched. To be obliterated. You threw your head back, so filled with overwhelming passion that your moan came out completely silent. "Come on. Cum all over my dick. Just like you always wanted.", he says between gritted teeth. You tangle your fingers in his hair and begin to tug on his silver locks. While it does hurt, he loves it, and continues to pound into your sweetspot.

"F-fuck I'm gonna ...c- cu", you can't even finish your sentence before you gush beneath him. Your legs shake violently as he continues to pound into you. Soon, he cums aswell. He loosens his grip on your hips and you begin to rise off of his dick. You're so shaky that you can barely move, so he wraps one arm around your back and gently places a hand behind your head, laying your face down on his chest. "Just rest for a sec." , he says while panting. You nod and lay down as he says. You were both hot and sweaty, but your skin felt perfect against each other. After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he raises your hips up, letting his dick fall out of you and onto him. He then lowers you back down and continues to hold you.

"So.. will you be adding a new chapter to that little book of yours tonight?", he chuckles. "...fuck off.", he smiles at your response and places a kiss on your head. "Will things... be different between us now that you know?", you ask, nervous about how he'll react. "Well.. I think they will. But if we get to do this more often then I don't mind." You then hold each other for what feels like forever. Melting into each other and your newly mutual feelings.

[themayforce]

Pretty in Pink - Part 2

Link to part 1

Summary: After the events down on the planet, you're not sure how to talk to Rex about it. But luckily, Fives and Echo are here to help.

Description: Things get steamy again in this one. Afab!Reader (no gendered language), foursome, double (or i guess triple) penetration (in both holes), unprotected sex (wrap it up fellas), some degradation, and a little bit of spanking

Rating: 18+ explicit

Pairings: Rex+Fives+Echo/Reader

Words: 7481 (literally i only just found out about this word count and uhhhh i don't know how this happened)

There aren’t enough hours in a day for all the work you have to get done. Since getting back to Coruscant, it's like you've been stuck in an endless meeting with every possible senator, advisor, administrator, or whatever title these politicians had chosen to use. The first few meetings had been important, but soon you had no real part in the discussions anymore and you just watched from the back of the room, exhausted.

It doesn't help that events from a certain planet keep replaying in your mind like a holovid stuck on a loop, glitching and catching on moments and phrases you should not be thinking about in the middle of a meeting room. The heat in your face and your anxiety about it make you even more tired, and after a week of these negotiations you're very glad when you can finally get home before dark for once.

The lights in your apartment automatically switch on when you open the door. The soft pink and orange hues from the sunset outside drape over your living room like a blanket and you spend a few minutes just looking out the window, admiring the view over the city, something you didn’t take as much time for as you should.

No matter how hard you try, it’s impossible to empty your mind these days. Your little … adventure with your three clone friends left its marks on you, both emotionally and physically. They’re fading now, but every time you see yourself in the mirror before showering they jump out at you: two rows of bruises on either side of your hips, unmistakably finger shaped. Rex’s handiwork. And the worst part is that it turns you on more than you’d ever care to admit.

You haven’t spoken to Rex at all since flying back on the shuttle. He had been in two of the same meetings as you, sure, but only awkward glances were exchanged, no words. It bothers you, having these feelings fester inside you, but you have no idea how to approach the subject. If you send him a comlink message, what are you even supposed to say? ‘Hey Captain, I think we should discuss how you fucked my kriffing brains out and then pretended it never happened?’

The day after you got back, Fives and Echo had been waiting for you after your checkup in the medbay, bless their hearts. You had all agreed to leave out the specifics of what had happened in your official reports, but a warning had been attached to that planet’s datalog. Avoid the pink flowers: toxic to most humanoids. With those two guys, you can laugh about it now, and you’re grateful for it. Fives seems more relaxed around you, more open. You haven’t forgotten that he called you beautiful, that he held your hand and brushed the hair out of your face. You see the way he looks at you, and it melts you, the way a hot cup of caf on a cold day does. But you just can’t seem to examine your feelings about Fives, not while Rex’s fire burns inside you so vigorously.

If you don’t talk to him soon, you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that. You get a glass of water from the kitchen and down it in one go before laying down on your couch, comlink in hand.

Should you call him? Leave him a holo message? Or just a text message? He’s probably very busy, probably doesn’t even have time to meet with you, but there’s no way you can talk it out over the com. The little device feels heavy in your hand as you type out the message ‘Can we talk?’, and your thumb hovers over the send button. What if he says no? Or just doesn’t reply? What if he’s trying to forget what happened, and bringing it up will just anger him? But he’d called you perfect, had fucked you like a man possessed. You look like such a good little whore. Those words won’t stop echoing in your mind.

You press your face into a throw pillow and groan. “Stupid clones,” you mutter to yourself. “Stupid, sexy clones.”

It’s only when the buzzer to your front door wakes you up that you notice you had dozed off in the first place. Quickly, you smooth out your clothes and flip the throw pillow over with the drool-stained side down. You're not expecting any guests -- you were too tired to make plans this week -- so you're frowning when you open the door.

Your frown turns into a surprised smile when you see Fives and Echo standing in front of you. Their helmets are tucked under their arm, and Fives is holding a bottle of something that looks like alcohol, while Echo has a plain white box in his hands.

"Hey there, sunshine," Fives says with a sheepish grin that nestles itself in your heart.

"Guys! What's all this?"

“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” Fives starts, but Echo interrupts him.

“Fives wanted to-” A sharp look from his friend makes him rephrase his sentence. “Fives and I wanted to check up on you.”

“We saw you in one of the meeting rooms today, and you looked tired, so- oh, not that you look bad, you still look great, just-” You laugh, and that puts Fives at ease. He smiles back at you.

“You’re really too sweet. Please, come in.”

You step aside to let your friends into your home, both of them still wearing their armor. They must have come here right after their shift, and it warms your heart that they chose to see you instead of getting their well-earned rest.

“Brought you something,” Fives says, handing you the bottle he’s holding. “Thought you might like a drink.” It‘s a familiar bottle to you, the most common type of Corellian Red on the market, and one of your favorites, which Fives remembered.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. But you’re absolutely right. I could really use a drink.”

Echo’s white box happens to be the best kind of box: a cake box, and time flies by while the three of you eat cake and empty the wine bottle. It’s nice, really nice, to just hang out like this. Despite the unspoken truth between you and Fives, it doesn’t feel awkward -- instead it draws something giddy and flirtatious out of you, though that may be in part due to the wine. One third of a bottle isn’t enough to get you drunk, but it’s definitely enough to get you tipsy, and soon enough you have your legs in Fives’ lap on the couch. He rubs circles on your calves with his thumb. He blushes. Echo laughs. The whole thing is adorable.

For the second time tonight, the buzzer of the front door interrupts you. This time, aided by the buzz of alcohol, you’re a lot more relaxed as you make your way across the room, glass in hand. There’s music playing from a concert on your holoscreen -- you don’t know the song or the singer, but the rhythm puts a spring in your step and there’s a smile on your face when you open the door.

Your expression shifts to one of open-mouthed confusion when you are met with another set of blue and white plastoid armor, worn by the man you so desperately wanted to talk to earlier today. And that's not all -- clutched in Rex's hands is a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white flowers, perfectly arranged like it's come straight out of a holo-ad for one of those high-end florists from Naboo.

You're speechless. Absolutely floored. Not just by the fact that Captain Rex brought you flowers, but that he decided to do this now, tonight, after ignoring you for over a week and- oh no. Did you accidentally send that comlink message? Is that why he's here? You would never even have considered sending it if you knew you'd have company tonight, but Rex doesn't know that and now he's here and so are Fives and Echo and every possible explanation you can give will bring trouble.

Blood rushes to your head as you try to think of something to say, but Fives and Echo beat you to it.

"Captain!" they exclaim in almost perfect unison while they jump up from their seats.

"Captain…" you repeat, at a loss for any other words. "I- I wasn't expecting-" You can't finish your sentence. Rex looks like he's going through all stages of grief simultaneously -- jaw tightening, brows furrowing, while his gaze darts between you and the clones behind you.

"I'll come back another time."

“No!” you say before you can stop yourself, “I mean, you’re welcome to come have a drink?” It’s embarrassing, the sheepish way you’re smiling at him, but he did just bring you flowers.

“Are those for me?” you ask, gesturing at the bouquet. Rex looks at the flowers like he had temporarily forgotten he was holding them, then hands them over to you.

“Yes. I hope you uh,” he hesitates, “are feeling better.”

“I am, thank you.”

This is unbearable. You want to scream, to either pull him inside or slam the door in his face, anything to make this painful situation end. You can feel Fives’ eyes burn into you from behind you, knowing that you have to explain why his kriffing Captain is bringing you flowers, when you can’t even explain it to yourself.

“So do you w-” you begin to invite Rex inside, pointing your thumb towards the living room, but he starts speaking at the same time.

“I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight. Troopers.”

With a curt nod and a sharp turn, he marches down the walkway, away from you.

You rush over to the low table next to your couch where you left your comlink and after you lay the bouquet down you check your message history. The words ‘Can we talk’ are still blinking up at you from the bottom of the display, unsent. The whole thing was a kriffing coincidence.

“So,” Echo says, pressing a button on the holoscreen to mute it, “what just happened?”

You groan as you let yourself drop down on the couch. Fives sits back down next to you, but his posture isn’t as relaxed as it was a few minutes ago.

“I don’t know if I should talk about it,” you say softly, burying your face in your hands.

"He …" Fives sighs deeply and turns his body towards you. "He also got involved back on that planet, didn't he?"

You nod without looking up. No point in lying about it now, and besides, it was Rex who decided to be weird about the whole thing.

"Said so, didn't I?" Echo says.

"Kriff, yeah, you were right. I really must've slept through it."

Now you sit up, bouncing your gaze between the two of them. “You knew?” you ask, confused.

“Not for sure,” Echo replies, “I stepped away for half an hour or so to fix the transmitter. But something was different about the Captain when I got back.”

Yeah, you could say that. It would’ve been a lot easier if he hadn’t been so secretive about the whole thing.

"I wanted to talk to him about it, but I thought he was avoiding me… Well, until-"

"Until he showed up unannounced at your apartment with flowers," Fives interrupts. There’s a small grin on his face as he shakes his head. "Stars, he's hopeless. We should give him some pointers."

Pointers? He wants Rex to be, what? Better at courting you?

“Wait… I thought-”

“I’d be jealous? Eh, a little, I can’t deny that. But one thing you need to know about clones,” Fives says with a knowing look to Echo, “is that we’re very good at sharing.”

His words make your face burn, your cheeks feel like the twin suns of Tatooine with how hot they are, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Echo chuckles at your reaction and moves to sit down on the couch as well. Stars, why was it making you so flustered to be sandwiched between the two of them?

“Fives was right. You really are cute when you get nervous.”

“I’m always right,” Fives jokes in return, “but more importantly…” He leans over and gently presses his thumb and index finger against your chin, turning your head to look at him. “Would you like that, sunshine? The three of us sharing you?” His thumb now grazes over your bottom lip. If he keeps this up, you might forget how to speak. Or forget your own kriffing name.

“Y-yes,” you whisper.

“Good.” He holds your gaze lovingly, his eyes darting down to your bottom lip. You’re hoping he might kiss you, but then he takes his hand away and smiles slightly.

“Better ask the Captain to come back, then.”

You fumble with your comlink and almost drop it while you type your new message to Rex. ‘Please come back. We want to talk to you.’ That’s the line you all agreed upon.

“While we wait…” Echo leans closer to you and lowers his voice. “Fives here never shuts up about wanting to kiss you.”

“Echo!” Fives hisses, embarrassed.

“Sooo,” you say, turning to him with a bashful grin, “what are you waiting for, then?”

Fives blinks a few times, and then with one swooping motion he pulls you into his lap, and puts his mouth to yours. His lips are sweet from the cake and the wine, his hands warm as he holds onto your waist. He’s firm and soft at the same time and it’s perfect -- until you move slightly and part of his armor pinches your skin, making you wince.

“Okay, you better take this off now,” you say, tapping one of his thigh plates with your fingernail, “or someone’s gonna get hurt.”

“That a promise?” Fives mutters against your cheek, making you giggle.

It’s touching how much care they put in taking off their armor. Just by watching them undress you can tell how important it is to them, almost sacred. They put every piece neatly on top of the other in the same way, like they were taught precisely how. Soon they stand before you in their tight black underclothes, still completely covered, but softer to the touch. The stretchy fabric doesn’t hide much. In fact, it accentuates the shape of their muscles and, well, other parts. You chew on your lip while you watch them move closer to you.

“Your turn, sunshine,” Fives states. “Let’s give the Captain a little surprise when we open the door for him.”

A small whine escapes your lips when you process his words, but you gladly oblige. As soon as you stand up from the couch, they’re on either side of you, so close it’s almost dizzying. They help you undo the clasps on your outfit and soon enough, you’re left only in your underclothes. Nothing fancy -- it was supposed to just be a regular work day when you got dressed this morning -- but at least it was a matching pair. Fives can’t seem to help himself and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that send shivers down your spine and he makes his way back up past your jaw, until he captures your mouth again. His second kiss is more intense, deeper, hotter, and as his tongue moves against yours, you feel the wetness between your thighs increasing. While Fives kisses you, Echo runs his fingers down your breastbone softly, before brushing them over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. He’s gentle, like he doesn’t want to distract you from Fives’ kiss, but it still makes you shiver, the hairs on your arms standing up with the thrill of it.

And then, the buzzer again. When Echo goes to open the door, you instinctively want to turn around, too shy to face Rex in your state of undress, but Fives holds you with your back to his chest and his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them softly. He presses a kiss to your temple.

When the door swings open, your eyes meet Rex’s almost instantly.

"What's going on?" Rex asks, but his voice isn't demanding. Quite the opposite, there's almost a quiver in it as his gaze moves over your body, then quickly away again.

Echo leads him into the room by the back of his arm and smirks.

"Well, Captain, Fives and I have a little … gift for you, if you want to join us."

"We know you got involved, sir. With the toxin situation. No need to be ashamed. In fact, I think we can all benefit from this situation." Fives’ mouth comes up right next to your ear and you can feel the tickle of his goatee. "Why don't you tell him what you told us?" Fives whispers to you. Kriff, he wants you to proposition Rex? Out loud?

"I-I… well…" Alright, breathe, you can do this. You know what you want.

"I want… I want all three of you."

Rex’s eyes seem to darken, his posture heavy when he walks over to you. Fives lets go of you now, taking a step back to give the two of you more space.

"Stars," Rex breathes, "y-you're sure?"

"I'm sure." To help ease his doubts, you trace a path up his armor with your hands, resting your arms around his neck, and kiss him. He seems frozen for a second against your lips, but then he returns your kiss eagerly, warm hands grazing over your hips. When he touches you, his breath hitches, remembering you are near-naked in front of him. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“I felt- I thought I had taken advantage of you. You were so vulnerable, and I was- I couldn’t control myself, I was too rough-”

"Look," you say softly, turning around to show him the remnants of your bruises.

"Is that- did I do that? Kriff, I didn't intend to-"

You interrupt him. "You can do it again, if you want. Keep doing it, so they never fade.”

Rex swallows, but before he can reply you come up with a new idea.

"I want to thank the three of you for saving my life," you say, and you can't help the shy smile that graces your face as you unclasp your bra, shaking it off and revealing your breasts. You take Fives and Rex by the hand and look Echo in the eye sweetly as you lead the three of them to your bedroom.

"There's no need-" Fives interrupts, but you shush him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm going to thank you," you say more firmly this time. You press a quick kiss to his lips before sinking to your knees before him, your eyes lining up with the visible hard-on under his clothes. Your fingers find the waistband of his black compression pants and his briefs below them.

"Oh, stars, sunshine-" His words catch in his throat when you peel the fabric down, revealing his bare cock to you, exactly the way you remembered it. Fuck, you'd fantasized about this late at night, pushing your own fingers into your mouth, imagining how much their cocks might fill you. You can't help but lick your lips before gently wrapping your hand around the base, drawing soft curses from Fives' lips. Your tongue finds the head of his cock, giving it a few kitten licks before letting your lips wrap around it. You hum contentedly as you let him enter further into your mouth, gently licking and sucking and reeling with pride whenever you draw a noise out of him. When you take him in as far as you can go without gagging, you feel his hand coming to rest on top of your head and you let him guide your pace.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing, sweetheart. You- you wanna show the other guys what you can do too?"

You whine when he takes his cock out of your mouth, but then you realize he meant show them right now, at the same time, because both Rex and Echo have taken their compression pants off (and Rex his armor, too) and you're greeted by two more of their cocks, hard and leaking and so close to your face.

"My lucky day," you joke, but your heart is beating fast with the knowledge you haven't exactly done this before. You just hope you can give all of them the attention they deserve.

Rex stands closest to you, and his cock twitches as you reach to hold it. His hips jerk forward when you press your tongue flat against the underside, tracing a vein that runs all the way along it. Just like Fives, he reaches for your head -- when you take one of his balls into your mouth and suckle on it softly, his fingers tighten their grip into your hair, his breath hitching with every stroke of your hand along his cock. After you give the other ball some attention, you move back to his cock, bobbing your head along it gently until he suddenly thrusts forward, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Kriff, sorry-"

But you persevere, spurred on to try and take him even deeper even with tears forming in your eyes. The sounds of you struggling to take him down your throat are joined with the sounds of Fives and Echo stroking their own cocks lazily on either side of you. It's lewd, but deliciously so, and your cunt throbs knowing that it's the sight of you that's turning them on.

You swallow around Rex's cock and he curses again, pulling himself out of your mouth.

"I won't l-last long if you keep that up, beautiful," he says, wiping some saliva mixed with precum away from your chin. Your stomach flutters at the pet name, a silly youngling feeling that feels unfitting to the current situation, but you find yourself wanting to hear it again and again.

Instead you turn again to take care of Echo, who seems to be enjoying himself -- his hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock and he smiles down at you.

"Your turn, mister," you tease, and a small chuckle escapes his throat.

"Stars, baby, you’re so cute."

Smiling, you lick up the sizable drop of precum that has formed at the head of his cock, drawing small circles around the opening with your tongue. Then much like before, you try to fit as much of him inside you as possible until you gag again -- the unpleasant feeling is somehow unbearably arousing to you, just knowing that his cock is so big, knowing your throat and jaw will hurt after, it sends lightning straight down between your legs.

"Look at me, baby," Echo coos fondly, "that's right, you like my cock, don't you, pretty eyes?"

You nod weakly, turning your attention back to the rhythm you had found while hollowing out your cheeks, when he pulls out of your mouth.

"Gotta keep it fair," he says with a grin while you feel a pair of hands turning you around again.

You service the three of them like this for a while, switching between their cocks while using your hands on the others. You must be an obscene sight, lips swollen and plump, saliva dribbling down your chin, and with every passing minute you're grinding your hips more and more, rubbing your legs together to find pleasure.

"Getting needy, aren't you, sunshine?" Fives teases, his voice raspy as you stroke his cock which is now slippery and shiny with precum and your spit. You hum around Rex, who has gotten to the point where he's thrusting shallowly into your mouth. Your gag reflex seems to have been conquered for the time being. They do say practise makes perfect.

It's Rex who comes first with a groan, his cum filling your throat while he holds your head in place, your nose grazing the hairs around the base of his cock.

"Fuck," Fives says, his hand finding the back of your head, "open your mouth, sweetheart, that's it." You swallow as much of Rex's cum as you can in one go, then open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out. Rex lines himself up with your tongue, pumping his own cock in quick hard motions. He cums with a low, rumbling sigh and his release ends up mostly on your tongue, with some of it on your nose and cheek. Before you realize it, you hear Echo curse beside you and he also finishes, his cum landing on your face and chest, like a marking you're all too happy to wear.

The three of them seem pretty out of breath, and Rex sits down on your bed with a sigh. "Stars," he breathes, pulling the high collar of his shirt away from his neck to let in some cool air. "That was some kind of thank you."

It makes you giggle. He seems more at ease now, having been convinced by the benefits of this arrangement.

Seeing the three of them panting and sweating in your bedroom sends another molten shot of arousal straight to your cunt and you realize your underwear must be soaked by now.

Fives must have realized you were rubbing your legs together, a teasing edge appearing in his voice. "I think you enjoyed that just as much as we did, didn't you? Did that get you wet?"

"Mhm," you admit coyly, "very."

"I think we should do something about that."

With a yelp from you, Fives pulls you up off the floor with ease and you crash into his chest with his nose pressed into your hair.

"Why don't you lie down and let us take care of you?"

Your face turns hot and your cunt throbs with anticipation at his words. But there's one thing that needs to happen first. All of them are still a lot more dressed than you are.

"Shirts off first, all of you," you say with a grin, which they all return.

"Yes, general," Echo jokes, peeling his sweat-soaked undershirt over his head. Now all of them are naked before you, and you can see the differences in their bodies. Echo, despite being the lithest of the three, has the most defined musculature. Fives is slightly broader in the shoulders but narrower at the hips, and seemed to have a little bit of an edge in the body hair department. Rex is the broadest overall, and also the most scarred, with gashes and blaster burns all over his chest, arms, and back. All three of them are beautiful, perfect, and somehow in your bed.

You get comfortable on the mattress, back propped up against a pillow. Surprisingly, it's Rex who finds his way over to you first, the mattress dipping under his knees. He puts his hands (big, warm, calloused) on your knees and spreads your legs so he can get between them.

"B-been wanting to taste you for so long," he says, his voice a dark rumble that strikes you in your core.

"You better take what you want then, Captain." You're not sure where the daring edge in your tone comes from, but after just making three men come with just your hands and mouth, some confidence has gathered in your chest.

Rex slides your underwear off and spreads your lower lips with his thumbs, and you can hear him suck in a breath. Fives sits down on the bed next to you and chuckles.

"Naughty, so wet from sucking dick." You give him a playful nudge which turns into a desperate grasp the moment Rex starts licking your slit in long lines, his tongue putting pressure on your clit repeatedly.

"Oh, fuckkkk-" you moan, your head falling back onto Fives' shoulder. Echo has now sat down on the other side of you and has taken it upon himself to lazily stroke and pinch at your nipples, the small licks of pain making you whine louder. Rex's pace is relentless, not gentle at all, and you find yourself on the edge much sooner than expected. Your nails dig into Fives' arm when Rex adds his fingers into the mix, pumping them in and out and curving them to hit the perfect spot while he sucks hard on your clit until you see-

"Stars!" you cry out, your hips lifting themselves off the bed as you buck into his tongue, your first orgasm of the night hitting you hard and deep. Rex keeps his tongue pushed against you for a while longer, until you come down from your high, slumping back down into the mattress with your breathing heavy and your skin shiny.

"Didn't know you knew how to do that, Captain," Echo jokes, still playing with your tits almost absentmindedly.

Rex wipes some of your slick off his face with the back of his hand and grins. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

When he sits back up, you can't help but notice he's well on his way to being hard again -- so are the others. There's a glimmer of pride in your chest at the moan Fives lets out when you wrap your hands around his cock again. You roll over, knees tucked under you, and bend down to wrap your lips around him again. In this position, you realize your ass is up in the air at an inviting angle, and you spread your knees a little further apart to give the man behind you a good view. It works, because it only takes a few seconds for Rex to grab your ass roughly with both his hands. His fingers line up with the bruises he left there before, and you hope he remembered your plea for their renewal.

"Look at you… you need a cock to fill you up, don't you, sweetheart?”

You hum around Fives’ cock in response, who fists his hand in your hair.

“Or maybe…” Rex’s voice is dark and rumbling, a sound that goes straight to your cunt, but that’s not where he touches you next. His thumb brushes over your exposed asshole and you stop moving your hips instantly in surprise. "... more than one? Think you could do that for us?"

You let Fives' cock slide out of your mouth to reply, spit and precum leaving a stringy trail between you. "Yes, please, I'll be so good for you," you whine, wanting nothing more than precisely that, to be good, to be of use to them, to make them feel good because they deserve it, and you're giddy and proud that they want this from you and no one else.

There's a bottle of oil in your nightstand for occasions like these -- a gift from a friend months ago who swears by this brand, but you hadn't gotten much use out of it yet. After all his nervousness earlier, you were surprised Rex took charge now, although you suppose he had just needed some time to settle into this commanding role that seemed to come so naturally to him in everyday life. The three of them briefly discuss among themselves how they should take you, but you have a hard time paying attention to the specifics. You bite your lip at the thought of the three of them filling all of you, and you can't help but sneak your hand between your legs to put some pressure onto your throbbing clit.

"Uh-uh," Fives tuts at you with a crooked smile, "none of that, now." He grabs the offending hand first and then the other so you can't touch yourself anymore. He laughs when you pout, and it makes you want to kiss the corners of his mouth. "C'mere," he says, pulling you forward to straddle his lap, his erection pressed between your bellies. It feels good, being this close to him, your skin against his. His smirk is still there and so you do steal a kiss, softly rutting against him just to feel him moan into your mouth. "How about the two of us stay like this," he says in your ear, pulling you tighter towards him with a hand on your lower back, "and I get to see your pretty little face while the other guys fuck your ass, hm?" Oh stars above, nothing coherent can leave your mouth in response to that. You press your face into the crook of Fives' neck and whine a breathy please that makes him chuckle. "Alright then sunshine, up you get." His strong hands lift you upwards so you can position yourself over his cock. Like it's the best thing he's ever felt, his eyes flutter closed when you sink down onto him, giving an experimental roll of your hips that tightens his grip on your waist.

"Fuck, I forgot how fucking hot your pussy is," he groans, and you can tell he's exerting some self control not to start fucking your brains out right away. You feel another warm hand on your back and turn to catch a glimpse of Echo.

"Yeah, Fives, you do know how to pick 'em," he jokes softly, but there's something different about him -- out of the three of them, you keep feeling like Echo might not have been attracted to you as much, like he might be happier with some girl from 79's, but now… You wonder if he reeled his feelings in so he wouldn't hurt his friend-- no, maybe that was just your vanity talking. Regardless, you pull Echo in for a short kiss while slowly starting to move with Fives inside you.

The sound of the glass bottle opening behind you gives you goosebumps. Rex's silence feels like the calm before the storm, and you hold your breath in anticipation. The liquid is a little cold when it trickles onto your skin, and you notice Rex also put a generous amount on his hand as he spreads it out, circling your little hole with his thumb. He works one finger into you gently, but you can feel the stretch and you cling onto Fives' shoulders.

"You alright, sunshine?" he asks and you nod, soothed by his voice and the circles Echo is rubbing on your back. Rex works you open gradually with his fingers, adding more oil when needed while Fives whispers words of encouragement into your ear. He keeps his hips painfully still -- your cunt throbs around him and you know he can feel it, too, but he doesn't budge, not yet.

“You’re doing so well, sunshine. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Mmhm,” you murmur against the skin of his shoulder.

“Ask Captain Rex nicely, then.”

You tilt your head up to look at him in slight bewilderment, only to find a playful smirk on his face. Before you can think of what to say, Rex starts slowly pulling his fingers out, grazing them along the sensitive skin in and around your ass, and you whine as you bury your face in Rex’s neck again.

“P-please, captain,” you cry, “please, please.”

His hands firmly dig into your asscheeks, rough and purposeful.

“Please what?”

Your words come out stifled and choked, both held back by your embarrassment to say something so filthy out loud, and shaken up by desire.

“Please fuck my a-ass, I need your cock, Rex, please!”

“Well done, sweetheart,” he says in that low voice that makes you quiver. He lines his cock up with your ass and you can’t help but buck your hips back slightly. His hands take hold of your sides and he starts pushing himself in, splitting you open easily with the help of the oil.

You’re full, so very full, and it’s so much, on the edge of being painful but not quite. Every part of your skin that touches one of your lovers is on fire, burning with arousal like it did when you had those toxins in your body, but better, now that your mind is sound. Whenever you think he can’t go any deeper, he does, and all you can do is hold onto Fives, digging your nails into his skin in the process.

“Fuck, stars, you take me so well,” Rex says behind you.

Echo pets your hair softly. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“F-feels good,” you respond, your words slurring together. Now both Fives and Rex are holding still with you in between them. The waiting is unbearable, like when the ocean pulls back before its biggest waves, and you are waiting for the water to crash.

The smallest roll of your hips is all it takes -- Rex groans as he pulls out about halfway, then thrusts back into you. From below you, Fives starts tilting his hips upwards, and you feel your cunt getting wetter around his cock. With the way you’re lying forwards on his chest, your clit rubs against him every time Rex slams his hips forwards. They move faster and faster, their skin slapping against yours and all you can do is sob, warm tears of pleasure mixing with sweat as they roll down your cheeks.

You can take more. You want to take more, and you look up at Echo through your wet lashes, reaching out for him, trying to find your words.

“Echo,” you whine softly, “my mouth, you can-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He shifts so his cock is directly in front of your face instantly, unbearably hard and leaking. Your mouth opens almost instinctively, tongue lolling out to taste as much of him as possible.

Rex chuckles behind you as each thrust of his hips forces Echo’s cock further down your throat as you moan around him.

“Seems I was right the first time,” he says, not halting his speed even a little bit, “you really are a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Fuck, why do those words turn you on so much? Being called names was never something you wanted, but the way he said it, in that fucking delicious voice of his, it set you on fire and makes your cunt clench eagerly.

“Kriff, you liked that, didn’t you? Got all tight around me.”

Your mouth is too full of Echo’s cock to answer, but your throat lets out a noise that Echo clearly likes, because he moans and his strong hand finds purchase on your scalp. They fuck you mercilessly, all three of them pounding and thrusting into your body while you bounce on Fives’ cock and grind your clit against him. There is a deep focus to it, this steady rhythm while holding Echo’s cock into your mouth, but it feels so good and so complete, all of you moving together, thinking of nothing else but chasing the pleasure building in your cunt, and once you start slamming your hips down at the same moment Fives thrusts his up, it’s like the ocean wave crashing into the shore with full force, dragging you along with it. You come hard, a white-hot orgasm that shakes you to your core. You let Echo’s cock slip out of your mouth the moment you scream, and Five holds you against his chest where you can hear the pounding of his heart.

Fives halts the relentless thrusting of his hips for a moment, but not Rex -- he gives you not a moment of rest as he uses your ass with the same ferocity he used your cunt back on that planet.

“Fuck, fuck,” he swears behind you, “I’m gonna fucking- gonna cum, gonna fill this t-tight little ass up, would you like that? You wanna take my cum like a g-good little whore?”

“Yes, please, Rex,” you sob in reply.

He buries his cock deep inside your ass, his grip on your hips so tight it hurts, and then suddenly you feel a hand in your hair at the back of your head. Rex grabs a handful of hair and pulls, lifting your head up and back. He keeps you there while he coats your insides with his release, swearing throughout it, before letting you fall back onto Fives’ chest.

Echo stands up from the bed the second Rex pulls out of you and switches places with him.

“You can take a little more, can’t you, baby?” Echo says, lining his cock up with your ass. Some incoherent noise comes out of you as an answer, and Echo pushes in. Rex has opened you up enough for him to enter you easily, but knowing he’s fucking Rex’s cum back inside of you fans the flames in your belly and you can’t help but start bucking your hips back to feel it more, while Fives’ cock is still hot and throbbing in your cunt.

“Look at you,” you hear Rex say, “you can’t get enough of it, can you? Fucking yourself on two cocks at the same time, and looking so pretty doing it.”

“Mmm,” Fives agrees, and you can hear he’s trying to keep his composure but his breathing is ragged as he comes closer to his own release, “such a pretty little cockslut.”

The way they talk to you spurs you on, which they probably intended, and you start riding Fives like your life depends on it, pushing your upper body up a little straighter so you can look at him. He’s beautiful like this, face flushed, beads of sweat between his knitted brows while he intensely chases his pleasure. As soon as you look him in the eye he grabs the back of your head to pull you down, your forehead to his forehead, your nose to his nose, his eyes closed.

“You’re so f-fucking perfect,” he mutters, then lets out a long groan while he spills inside you, his head crashing backwards into the pillow. Echo’s thrusts get shorter and faster now and you buck back against him, wanting to give everything you still have left inside you. Rex’s hand sneaks up between your body and Fives’ to find your clit.

“Cum one more time, sweetheart, I know you can, with two cocks inside you.”

It’s too much -- you want to, but you don’t know if you can, don’t you if you’re even capable.

“I-I can’t, I-” you try to plead, but he rubs your clit roughly and you sob, hot tears wetting your cheeks. Echo tenses up behind you and you know he’s going to finish soon but-

Slap.

Rex’s hand comes down and strikes your asscheek so hard you squeal.

“I said cum.”

You do. You can’t explain it, but you do, an almost painful orgasm coursing through you while the sting of the strike lingers. A curse leaves your mouth but is caught by Fives’ lips pressing to yours and his tongue in your mouth. Echo spills his release into your ass with a moan, and with all three of their loads inside you, you have never felt so full.

After Echo pulls out, you climb off of Fives and let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress, every inch of you covered in sweat. Rex leans over to move some hair out of your face.

“Was that too much?” he asks, and the gentleness in his voice is almost heartbreaking.

“No,” you answer, a blissful smile on your face from how unbelievably good you’ve been fucked, “that was just right.” He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, and you feel an ever so slight trace of stubble on his jaw, less than a day’s growth. You’ve never thought about him shaving, but you’d like to watch him do it, some day. Fives sits up, grabs your hand and puts it to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. Moments later, Echo appears with a towel from your closet and starts cleaning you up, dabbing the cloth between your thighs where their cum has started trickling out of you.

“So,” you start, grinning playfully “are we even, now?”

Rex chuckles and gets up off the bed to find his underclothes -- no doubt duty will call for him again soon. You feel so, so lucky, that these three men have chosen to spend what little free time they have with you, and a warmth spreads through your chest as you look at them, eyes half-lidded from drowsiness.

“Not a chance,” he jokes, stepping into his briefs.

Fives lets go of your hand and strokes your cheek with his thumb, grinning down at you, and Echo, too, has a smile on his face. Rex kisses your forehead one more time.

“You won’t get rid of us that easily.”

[the-kingshound]

The third Arch Deleted Scene

The snippet here is a bit rushed at the beginning and in some other parts, as I did not want to go into even more spoiler territory. If you want to send me asks about this please be sure to advertise them as spoiler at the beginning, since not everyone will want to read them.

SPOILER

TW: blood, injury, poisoning, strong language.

3rd Arch – the seventh Trial

 Your stomach was knotted by dark swirling anxiety from the moment Arthur announced the diplomatic visit. You were familiar with the House, it kept being, after all, one of the most influent beside yours before and after the Emperor’s fall. This did not mean anything, though. Your homeland was beautiful but deadly, ready to swallow anyone whole to quickly digest them.

You promised yourself you were going to be at Arthur’s side at all times, and that’s precisely what you are doing now.

 Four days in, and the only major threat has been the amount of people wanting to interact with you. For the most part, Arthur smoothly deflects them to himself, for which you are endlessly grateful. You’re not in the mood to socialize, instead you keep on high alert, especially against the House leader and formal Ambassador.

You do not think he will pull anything while you’re here, after all you grew up together and you respected each other deeply, but one cannot be too cautious when the King is concerned – as demonstrated by the multiple scars that litter your body. You would go through all of it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping your King safe, but all you can do for now is stay by his side and keep the risks at minimum.

For this reason, when the Ambassador proposes a meal together with both yours and his knights, you are instantly weary.

“I don’t like this one bit, Arthur.”

“Me neither,” agrees Evaine, all the while lazily making their dagger spin on the table.

“I don’t deny that is not an ideal situation. On the other hand, a wrong move on their part would jeopardise their own negotiation,” counters Arthur as Morien finally snaps, blocking Evaine’s wrist with a tight grip and hissing an irritated “stop fooling around, for God’s sake!”

Evaine pouts. Yniol ignores them in favour of the matter at hand “they are certainly going to outnumber us, but if they wanted to attack us head on they would have done so before now, there were better opportunities. MC?”

You really think it through before answering “I wouldn’t put it past the Ambassador to try something, direct or more subtle, while we’re so exposed and out of our physician. Lania is not the head of his House for nothing, but aside from that he was always particularly attached to the Empire. We can’t afford to underestimate him.”

“Yes, yes” interjects Morien, having by now freed Evaine’s hand and left the table, dismissing themselves from the meeting “I’ll be prepared in any case. I swear you manage to hurt yourselves everywhere we go.”

And so dinner begins. It is a boring affair, but you won’t let yourself relax until it’s over. You sip on your wine, closely inspecting the hosts for any sudden or unusual movement. You find none, but you stiffen and your brows furrows. There’s something strange in your mouth, something strangely… bitter.

Time seems to freeze in front of your eyes. With an uncoordinated, panicked movement you jerk on the table and bat away Arthur’s cup, spilling its content on the table.

You place your hand on the table to support you as you rise, your dilatated pupils numbly fixed on the red liquid that’s quickly staining the tablecloth. It feels like an hour but actually only a second has passed before you regain your senses.

“Seize them.”

Arthur and his Knights are no longer seated by now, but the Ambassador’s men have drawn their weapons as well and pointed them to your delegacy, effectively halting their movements. You see icy red and do not spare another glance at the man now placed on your back while you snarl in the envoy direction.

Placing your fingers on the hilt of your sword, you hiss an enchantment to track the magic residue and the culprit is revealed in front of your eyes. Ignoring the taste of iron on your tongue, you spit out another enchantment and the room’s door is locked close with a lout snap. They will not get away.

Unfortunately, you lack the ability to free Arthur and the Knights, you are now surrounded and painfully outnumbered, but you know they can hold on until you have taken care of the threat at hand. You cough blood and half crash on the floor, but you ignore the alarmed voices of your Knights and crawl in the Ambassador’s direction.

How dare he. How dare.

“My, Lord…”

“Let them,” a voice says to your back “they will not go far.”

“How dare you” your breaths are ragged, your intestines raw and burning, your voice rough for the acid that invades your throat. The Ambassador’s face is a mask of contempt and stony resolution. He watches, halting his men while they try to block you, as you half-crawl to him, gripping with iron strength the wooden chairs to keep yourself upright.

“I have the upper hand, King Arthur. I’m afraid you are in no position to make such demands.”

“Release us, and call a physician for my spouse, and I will consider letting this incident go without consequences.”

Arthur’s voice is steady, calm and there is only a hint of something sharper, at least for now.

You can’t see your King, but the sound of his voice sends shivers down your spine. They tried to kill him. The House you grew up to respect is full of nothing more than vile traitors.

As your strength start to waver, you lose your balance and crush to the ground with the chair you were pushing your weight on. Still, you get up again and you and fix your gaze on the second born, now Ambassador and traitor “I’ve had enough of you.”

You take a shuddering breath, your lungs filled with blood that’s now spilling over to your lips as you speak, but the pain you feel is nothing compared to the hot, blinding rage that’s consuming your every thought. Still, your voice is, as ever, cutting cold “you invite us here, offering a pacific discussion, and all you provide are poison in our drinks and weapons against my Knights and my King’s throat. You’ve exhausted my patience, Lania.”

You see him flinch at the use of his name. You remember a time long gone when you played together as kids, swearing you would be the ones to restore the Empire uniting your two Houses. Now these are broken promises and rotten friendships.

“MC,” the Ambassador says, “it’s over, you have to understand that.”

“Oh, you just wait,” interjects Evaine, almost immediately silenced by the Ambassador’s men.

You cough and choke on blood, and you can feel the physical weight of Arthur’s and the Knights’ worried eyes on your back, but you exhale and grip tighter your sword’s hilt. A wave of raw power invades your body and you are able to focus again.

“You know what I’m capable of, what I am willing to do for my King,” your voice is almost devoid of intonation, save for unforgiving hardness. His gaze falls on your non dominant arm and then on your throat, scarred by a thin horizontal line “I will gut you and feed you to my hounds. You’ll die like the backstabbing coward you are.”

They know as well as you do that you don’t make empty promises. There is a rustle around you that culminates in a sharp sigh from the Ambassador and swords pointed at your neck.

“Must we really do this, MC? I cared for you once, but you know that I will not hesitate to strike you down if you give me reason to do so.”

You don’t draw black nor move a single muscle, your eyes find Arthur’s blue ones and you find the King is dangerously immobile, his fingers brushing against Excalibur’s hilt in what could be mistaken for a soothing caress. When he speaks, his voice bears nothing else but firm command “you will not do that.”

Lania cocks his head to the side, appearing quite unbothered “oh?”

“How is your sister, Ambassador?”

At the same time as Lania stills, you blink. A violent cough than shakes your chest, and when your senses are fully back and you can breathe again Arthur has kept going with the same calm, calculated demeanor “I want to remind you that together with the Lord the wedded she’s now head of the Merthian feud, the nearer one to the south-eastern border.”

“What does it-“

“I am the one in control of the knights tasked with their protection. As per the arrangement we signed weeks ago, the border is under Camelot’s defence. But if I die, or if my spouse dies, my knights will retire, Ambassador.”

Oh, Arthur is not King for nothing. He is striking where it hurts the most – family – without even an drop of blood shed. You don’t hide a proud, feral smile at this. Almost immediately, blood invades your throat again, you can feel its taste on your togue, but you shove the pain back where it started in your burning stomach. You shiver. You love and hate seeing your King like this.

Lania swiftly unsheathe a long, curved dagger and you are immediately ready to bolt– swords to your throat be damned, you’ve had worse – but he makes no move in Arthur’s direction for now.

“Figured you had to hit low to get a reaction.”

“Release us,” Yniol commands, standing tall near the King.

“No” spits out Lania, his composure now fully broken “you stole our independence and our pride, Pendragon, you humiliated us and stripped our Houses of the opportunity to unite again. You are every bit of your father’s blood!”

He then turns to you, his eyes frantic, his expression pained and almost feral “I thought you were on my side!”

Blood rushes to your ears, a high-pitched whistle the only thing you’re able to hear at the moment. You feel sick. Sicker than before – sicker than what you’ve felt in years. You spit blood on the floor, your answer is weak and unnaturally subdued, “it was a- a long time ago.”

“We were like siblings!”

You can’t say anything, you only choke on your words. All that you manage to do is keep yourself upright only thanks to your sword.

“They are right, you really are your King’s hound, nothing more than Camelot’s bitch,” he tries the next word in his mouth like they were both foul and inevitable “the haghàn bajek*.”

Your vision is overcome by whit spots, your skin hot and freezing cold.

“Kill them all.”

You force yourself to focus. Protect your Knights. Protect your King.

After that it is pure, unbidden chaos. You tighten your grip on your sword, assessing where you’re needed the most. With the corner of your eye you spot Arthur, he’s a beautiful fighter, he is no match for – Lania.

Your magic flares alongside most of your nerve endings as you sprint in his direction, interjecting his blow with your own weapon. Unfortunately, the Ambassador is a skilled opponent and you’re already considerably weakened, all you can do is channel in your arms the strength of your steel determination to not let him reach your King.

“Stop trying to defend an enemy, MC!”

“Stop trying… to kill him.”

You are barely managing to defend yourself when Lania strikes back. You catch the dagger with your arm, it pierces through your skin just over your elbow but it won’t reach its intended target. No one will hurt your King while you’re still breathing. No one.

Pain paralyzes your arm, your breath is stuck in your throat together with a blood clot that feels intrusive and that fills you with panic. The finishing blow never comes, though. As you inhale again, you refocus on the room’s occupants and notice how Arthur’s Knights have the clear upper hand.

“Ah, and you thought you could beat the Round Table so easily,” Evaine all but purrs in a knight’s ear “that’s precious.”

“Stand down” Gawaine commands “you’re surrounded.”

You can hardly distinguish the shapes of your own knights, you’re nauseous, your stomach and throat are on fire. You fall down on your knees, exhausted and hurt. You feel like you’re going to throw up–

“MC’”

Where is Lania, where is –  

“Wh-where…?”

“Kai, get Morien here, please.”

Arthur’s voice is soothing, as ever, but tainted with worry. You can’t make his face out. There are arms supporting your weight, not his but equally familiar – Yniol?

“It’s going to be alright, dear.”

It’s the last thing you hear before the world goes black.

  *haghàn bajek = [REDACTED] traitor

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 5

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

“Hey, I’m leaving now. Are you there yet?” Lizzie texted shortly after she turned on her car. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” Aubrey replied. “Okay, on my way. It won’t get me too long to get there.” She tossed her cell phone onto the passenger side seat and started to drive.

It’s almost lunch time hour, the traffic is getting undeniably more crowded. It’s typical L.A traffic with its uncertainty crowd flow on random parts here and there. While driving Lizzie starts to think about the meeting today. A part of her actually feels bad knowing that you might have heard what she said on the phone. Deep down she knows it’s not your fault to be caught in the middle of this whole matter. The more she thinks about it, the more it triggers her memory that your were actually the girl who smiled nicely to her at the coffee shop who didn’t do anything that made Lizzie get recognized when she was trying to not to be and that was why Lizzie nodded and smiled as an appreciation towards you.

Of course once her common sense slowly starts to get her to think in the right way, her stubbornness quickly erupts and plays with her emotion again. Especially when her memory rewinded the view when your left hand grabbed the pen and signed the contract even after she gave you a cold intimidating statement then it was followed by the memory of all of her conversations with Jane and her mom who hired you without her agreeing to it. It makes her feel that they don’t think she is old enough to deal with this situation. Her anxiety only makes her more emotional in handling this matter and forces her to dislike you even more and to think what she should do to make you quit.

All the thinking while driving clearly makes it feels faster to get to the restaurant where she's meeting Aubrey. She parked her car, then walked into this quiet restaurant. She was greeted by the host then she explained she is meeting her friend here as her green eyes are searching for where Aubrey sits. “Lizzie! Over here!” Aubrey’s voice quickly caught her attention. Lizzie sees her sitting at the table in the patio and walks to her.

“Hey, how are you? It took longer to get here than you thought huh?” She gave Lizzie a hug. “Hey, how are you? Yeah, sorry, I got caught in a little traffic.” Lizzie sighed then she took a seat. The girls order some food and drink to accompany them while they are catching up.

“Sooo, what's up with your text yesterday. What do you want to figure out together with me? From your text, I can feel you were upset.” Aubrey starts the conversation. “Really? You can sense how I feel from my text?” Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course, we are best friends, more like a soulmate I think but seriously what’s going on?” She joked around but tried to dig into what's going on at the same time.

Lizzie starts with a sigh and takes a sip of her drink. “Do you remember when I told you that Jane and my mom are thinking of getting me a new personal assistant?”

“Yeah? They still talk about it with you?” Aubrey said as she took a bite of her food.

“Even worse! They hired one already regardless of the fact that I said that I don't need one. I met her this morning. She came by with Mitchel Elrod to sign the contract and everything. Turns out she is his best friend.” Lizzie explained with huge annoyance.

“Oh yeah, I remember him. I got my assistant from his company. Does she know how you feel about this thing?”

“Oh that part, she might have heard what I said when I was talking with you on the phone this morning because I didn’t know that she was sitting in front of me in the waiting room. I felt terrible actually but then in the meeting I was thinking fuck it so I told her bluntly straight to her face that I actually don’t need her and I’m here because I’m forced to give it a try so this better be worth it.” Lizzie put her head to her hands, her thumbs massage her temples a little bit.

Aubrey gasped, “No you did not! Then what did she say?” Aubrey got so invested with what’s going on.

“Nothing really. She just said she hopes I like the way she works. That’s all. I was hoping she would change her mind and say no to work for me after what I said to her, but then she signed everything like she was trying to say “challenge accepted” to me.” Lizzie motions an air quote then takes another sip of her drink to calm herself down. “It’s like a competition to me now. This just made me doesn’t like her more.” She added.

“So I need your help to figure out how to make her quit because the contract said it can be terminated if there is a mutual agreement from both parties. So if one day she says she wants to quit, I will agree to it and boom! Case close!” Lizzie told her idea with confidence.

“Why are you trying so hard anyway? I meant Jane and your mom have a point. She will be very busy, they just want someone to help to provide your needs at work. You're gonna have a few busy years sister with all the upcoming filmings and others. It’s for your own sake I guess.” Aubrey shrugged as she tried to talk Lizzie out.

“Oh my God! Aubrey, you are supposed to be on my side. The problem is my anxiety. It’s hard to adjust with new people. This is also about how they don’t listen to my opinion or what I want. They hired her without finalizing it with me first.” Lizzie explains in frustration.

“It’s also about your ego isn’t it?” Aubrey added as she knows her best friends very well. 

“They know you would still say no even if they asked you before they hired her and honey I really understand your anxiety, I'm so sorry. Okay, I’ll help you. Why don’t you just give her hard times at work? Give her “hell” at work.” She suggested.

“And how do I do that?” Lizzie asked in confusion.

“I don’t know. Just be as bitchy as you can, ask ridiculous things. Make her do stuff that doesn’t make sense. So basically gets on her nerves every single day, I guess. Be difficult, you know what I meant.” Aubrey continues with her suggestions.

“I think you are right! Aubrey you are a genius! Thank you!” 

“What would you do without me?” Aubrey rolls her eyes joking around. “Anyway, what’s her name again? How does she look?” All of this conversation made Aubrey curious and pulled out her phone.

“Y/n Y/l/n. She looks okay and well dressed. A little taller than me. She’s - “ Aubrey all of a sudden cuts her off before she can even finish her sentence. 

“Wait! what?! Y/n Y/L/n?” Aubrey is as surprised as she can be, then looks at her phone and shows it to her confused friend. “Is this her?” Lizzie squints her eyes as she takes a look at the social media account profile Aubrey shows her. “YES! That’s her. Wait, how do you know? Please don’t tell me you know her too.” Lizzie covers her face with both of her hands as a sign of frustration.

“Actually, Yes I know her. I know her from a mutual friend quite a while ago. She also introduced me to Mitchel. I didn’t know she came back to work with him. I haven’t seen her for a while, we just sometimes text each other here and there just to say hi.”

“Aww, she hasn’t really changed. I always like the way she dresses and her good taste of music. Look, isn’t she cute?” Aubrey smirked jokingly as she continued checking Y/n’s social media on her phone and showed it to Lizzie.

“What are you talking about Aubrey? Cute or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m upset with this whole situation and I already do not like her, besides I don’t date girls. I’m dating Robbie. You know that! So can you focus here please?" Lizzie snapped her finger to regain Aubrey's attention back to the main topic.

“Haha, okay chill. I was just joking because you are so tense right now. You are dating Robbie but it doesn't look or feel like you guys are dating. You both barely spend time together. He is too busy with his band and his tours. You know what? I started to think he dates you just to boost his fame.” Aubrey casually points out her opinion to her best friends.

“Aubrey, I’m here not to talk about my relationship.” Lizzie reminded her why they are there.

“Okay okay!” Aubrey laughed. “Anyway, I don’t think I can help you to give more ideas to annoy y/n at work. I love you but I didn’t know it was Y/n you were talking about. She’s my friend too, I can't do that to her. At least I gave you the idea in the beginning but just considered I never tell you anything. Sorry babe, I hope you understand.”

“That’s too bad but okay, I understand.” She pouted but she can’t complain because at least Aubrey already gave her a little rough idea what to do.

The girls used the chance to also catch up with each other’s life but unfortunately it has to come to an end as one of them has to go home.

“Okay Liz, sorry I gotta go. I’ll see you when I see you, okay. Remember, don’t hate her too much if you don’t want to end up falling for her. Well that was what old people used to say, I think.” Aubrey teased Lizzie while giving her a goodbye hug.

“Aubrey stop! That won’t happen. See you soon. Thanks for the help.” Lizzie hugs her goodbye. Lizzie then got into her car and pulled her phone out.

“Hey Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen. On friday, we are supposed to drive together to my photoshoot location. Meet me at the office at 6 AM. We’ll take your car from there. Oh, don’t forget my coffee. The one I like. It’s on the list.” Lizzie texted Y/n with no signs of compromise in text.

“Hi. Ms. Olsen, I thought the schedule was at 8 AM but okay, I will meet you there at 6 AM on Friday, with your coffee.” Agreeing is all y/n can do. It’s the first day of work anyway, what’s the worst could happen.

Ch. 6

[starlightsearches]

can we perhaps get a lil fic where the reader used to be a first order medic who crushed on Hux and used to treat Hux’s injuries when he was thrown around, but has now defected to the resistance. Hux survives TROS with injuries from, well, everything that happened, and is rescued by the resistance and taken to the reader (now the resistance medic) to be cared for. Cue them remembering eachother, and perhaps lots of touch starved hux who isn’t used to being looked after, and the two finally admit their feelings for eachother?? Sorry if this is so long and confusing, you can change or shorten any bits you don’t like or understand 😅💕

Hello friend! Thanks for the request. I’m sorry it took me a thousand years to write it; I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hope you like it!!

Requests are open ✨

Armitage Hux x Resistance Medic! Reader (GN)

Warnings: Language, an injury, angst and some medical care! (and non-canon compliance if anyone cares about that)

It’s the middle of the night cycle when Poe’s voice crackles through the speaker on your comm link, calling for you. Lurching from your doze, you search for it with both hands, brushing through the piles of records and empty caff cups before you spot the little cylinder.

“I’m here,” you hold the comm close to your mouth, using your other hand to gather up needed supplies, shoving them in your medkit haphazardly. Poe never commed you before a landing—not unless things were bad. You push the panic away, steeling yourself for the worst case scenario. It wouldn’t be the first time you had held a friend’s life in your hands, but it never got easier; you just got stronger. You could be stronger now. “What do you need?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too bad this time,” he clarifies, and you let out a shaky breath, offering your thanks to the universe, “we picked up a, uh, new recruit. He’s pretty banged up, having some trouble walking. I know you can get him feeling better; can you meet us at the landing pad?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you shove the comm in your pocket, brushing a hand over your hair. There’s a soft hint of disquiet resting on your shoulders, a crawling over your skin. Poe wasn’t usually this cryptic. Something big must have happened.

You decide to leave your medkit—since the mystery patient’s injuries don’t sound too serious — walking swiftly through the sleeping base. Your footsteps echo quietly against the stone walls until the sound is swallowed by the night melody of Ajan Kloss. The warm humidity kisses your cheeks when you step out into the open, a gentle breeze pushing it away before it can linger.

The landing pad is dormant, rows and rows of sleeping x-wings keeping you company as you watch for any sign of the Falcon, and soon enough you spot it, tracing its path through the night sky.

You spy Poe's boots at the mouth of the hatch as soon as it opens—Rey must have been piloting, which meant Finn would be in the cockpit with her. Strange. Poe doesn’t usually give up control of the pilot’s seat so easily. A shiver travels up your spine despite the warm night air.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you give us a hand?" he calls out to you, and you're about to tear into him for being so fucking cryptic, stomping up the loading dock. That's when you notice the shiny pair of boots near Poe's, blacker than the night around you.

You can't move anymore, frozen mid-step half-way up the ramp, heartbeat pounding like a warning siren as your eyes trace up the boots, the battered, black uniform and you don’t need to see his face to know that you're not dreaming this time. It’s him.

You keep your eyes on Poe—only on Poe—and your distress must show in your features because the look he gives you in return is full of concern.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?"

You glare at him. "What the hell is this?"

It has to be a joke. Poe is trying to be funny, calling him a recruit instead of a prisoner—but the general isn't handcuffed. He has an arm slung over Poe's shoulder, leaning heavily against the pilot. There’s a tear in his pant leg, white skin stained red with dripping blood, the wound sore and angry. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the purpling bruises along his cheeks. It’s sad how familiar he seems when he’s broken, more recognizable to you now than he ever was in any holovid.

“See, Hugs, I told you,” Poe clears his throat, voice light with humor but he watches you carefully, a warning in his eyes. You can see enough of the general to know he’s not looking at you, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance, his jaw set.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting your expression settle into a scowl. “Told him what?”

“That you hadn’t forgotten him.”

Damn him. He had asked about you? Your heart softens in spite of yourself, and you turn automatically to Hux, the last shreds of your anger falling from your chest. He still won’t meet your eyes, shoulders slumped, his breathing a little labored and you’re sure it’s not just from the pain.

How many times had you been with him, just like this? Hidden together in forgotten corridors or tucked away in his quarters, the threat of his father looming over you while bandaging wounds and feeling for breaks and ignoring the way his chest heaved underneath your fingers. There was no word for that kind of despair, seeing someone you loved so quietly and so desperately wrecked so completely. It snakes under your skin again, finding it’s old favorite cracks left unhealed; if you’re not careful, it will swallow you whole.

There’s only one thing to do in a situation like this: fix what you can.

You shift your weight from foot to foot before heaving a sigh, “fine, let’s go.”

“Yes! You’re the best; I owe you one, sweetheart, really—” he’s already moving out of the general’s grip, waiting for you to take his place and you look at him in alarm, stepping back.

“Wait,” your adrenaline spikes, and you have to force yourself to take a breath, “you’re not coming with us?“

He shakes his head, “Rey, Finn and I have some, uh, unfinished business. We only stopped by to drop him off.”

Well shit—you take a few steadying breaths, hoping your anxiety doesn’t show too plainly on your face. You hadn’t thought you’d be alone with him so soon. You don’t want to think about why that makes a difference to you.

“Oh, okay.” You nod, force an unconvincing smile to save face. Poe wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t important. He furrows his brow—not yet convinced.

“You’re gonna be alright?”

“Yeah . . . yeah. I’ll—we’ll—be fine.” Your smile tightens at the corners but still doesn’t reach your eyes, and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before walking past you to the cock pit.

And now you’re left alone.

“Let’s go,” you slide into place under his arm where he’s propped himself up against the wall, gripping him tightly around his waist, fingers holding him steady at the ribs.

He flinches, pulling away slightly, and you loosen your grip.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head, eyes examining his reflection in his boots, and you place your hand with a little more care, hoping he can’t feel the way your heartbeat echoes through your body.

It’s been too long since you’ve last touched him; it still makes your heart race.

The trip back to the medbay is slow and arduous. It’s not just the gash in his leg that’s impairing his movement—his ankle is very clearly broken, based on the way he winces whenever it makes even the slightest contact with the ground.

He’s certainly not heavy, by any means, but supporting his weight gets more difficult with each step, and you’d rather not see him sustain any more injuries if your grip on him doesn’t hold.

“We can rest here for a moment.” You stop near a pile of rocks by the entrance to the base, lowering him down into a sitting position before finally taking the chance to catch your breath.

It's a dead night, a still one. Any breeze you'd felt earlier had faded long ago, and the air sits heavy on your skin and heavier in your lungs.

The general doesn't seem to mind, taking long deep breaths. If it weren't for his furrowed brow, you might believe he was asleep.

“How did you know I’d be here,” you whisper, and when he looks at you, there's hurt in his eyes.

“The Order always keeps track of their defectors—especially when they run away to join the Resistance.” His tone is bitter and biting, and it hurts you more than you like.

“I didn’t run away to join the Resistance," you respond, trying to tamp down a sneer, angry at yourself. For letting him get to you so easily, for caring so much about what he thinks.

For missing him every day since the last.

Still, it was true, what you said. When you left, you only wanted to get away from the Order—it didn’t matter where.

The Resistance was the only place you were welcomed.

You had wanted it to feel like home, and parts of it did—eating late dinners with Poe in his quarters, watching over your patients, celebrating with the rest of them after every success, the same belief that they had for the cause beginning to burn in your chest.

But something was missing, in every one of those moments. And now that he's here, you wonder if the space you'd left empty for him is too large to be filled.

"Did you—" he shifts, groans, and your veins flood with anticipation, hanging on to some foolish idea of what he might say next, "did you ever . . . think of me?"

He looks at you with half-lidded eyes, surprisingly earnest; the pain must have gone to his head.

"We should get you to the medbay," you move again, no longer comfortable with staying still, "I'll go find you something to lean on while you walk, I'll be right back—"

His fingers wrap firmly around your wrist, pulling you back with surprising determination.

"I thought of you," he says, and you're looking in his eyes, so dark they're almost black in the low light, "every cycle since the last, and every cycle before that."

Your breathing grows shallow as he fits his hand against your waist, without pulling you closer or pushing you away.

"If you want me to leave, after . . . when it's all over, I'll do it. But I—"

He jumps when you press your lips to his, shaking like he's scared, but he leans into you as best he can.

"Neither of us are leaving again," you demand, and you think you might feel the ghost of a smile against your jaw, feel the slight grip of his fingers at your waist, "not if I can help it."

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