#so just taking control asking the questions kind of —situating them so we can have a moment and then I can dismiss them

[itspileofgoodthings]

one of my favorite things about getting older is that I’m just more sure and more confident in taking control in social situations and making other people feel at ease. I really love it!

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

When König Freaks Out

I think that sometimes, people don't really know how to write König getting mad. I think a lot of people assume that because he's a soldier, he loses his shit all the time. Either that, or they assume he's nervous and scared. He's not either. He's a colonel (or, was), he is far too self disciplined to lose himself like that. However, König isn't always able to control himself. Under special circumstances, König loses his shit.

TWs: König yelling, teasing, childhood photos being used to embarrass König

Wordcount: 1.2k

Art from This Post

König is a very, very stable person. He almost never lets his true emotions show. It's extremely rare. Sure he has his sadistic belly laughs, but other than that, König doesn't express himself fully. He just doesn't.

König doesn't cry. He doesn't yell when he's around civvies. He doesn't even swear much when in casual conversation. He may seem relaxed and calm, but if you pay attention, he's extremely careful with what he says and how he says it. Part of it is social anxiety; he's extremely aware of how he's being perceived and takes care to curtail that image to his need. He needed to be careful to rise the ranks as quickly as he did. He's not colonel for nothing.

High ranking military personnel are not like your average soldiers, especially among special ops. Lower soldiers might be careless and rough and hardened, but to be a colonel you need to be the perfect soldier. You need to drink, but not too much. You need to be a gentleman, but you need to be dirty. You need to be kind in public, cruel on the field. It's a position of contradictions. Not many civvies understand how hard these people have their entire identities on lockdown. They often compartmentalize their lives to be able to function in different settings. They have to be, at the very least a little bit, sociopathic to succeed. Again, they're not inherently evil, I'm not saying König is evil. I am saying that if you pay attention to him in a civvie situation though, you'll notice that he is an unflappable gentleman. You'd never know he was out at the bar until 3am with his drinking buddies the night before and nursing a wicked hangover while he's sipping coffee at lunch with you.

Why am I being so careful to outline how calm and steady König is? It's because when he freaks out it's usually insanely funny, or terrifying. Sometimes both.

Now, I've told you all before in this post that König's instinctual reaction to being startled is to fight. He will punch first and ask questions second. But, sometimes, König doesn't get scared.

He gets mad.

König is normally hard to upset, but family reunions bring something special out of König. Something dark, something hidden, something murderous. It's not battlefield rage, it's worse. It's the hatred and fury of being the youngest brother in the family, and it all comes out when he brings you to a reunion and they bring out the baby photos.

"Nein, nein, nein," König will chant as he rips the photo album out of his sister's hands, "this is going back on the shelf."

You're already cackling because it's far too late to go back.

"But you looked so cute in the tub!" Lisa's grinning from ear to ear as her little brother loses his shit

"Why do we even have those pictures?" König huffs as he slumps back in his chair, "we don't need them. They can be burnt."

"You know, you grew a better beard as a kid than you do now," Friedrich mutters as he sips his beer.

"I grow a perfectly fine beard!" König snaps.

"You call that shit-stain on your face facial hair?" Stephen looks down his nose at the youngest Leichenberg.

"I can't help it!" König grumbles, "I try to shave but then it all grows back."

"Yeah," Friedrich rolls his eyes, "that's what happens, Kilgore. It's called biology."

"No!" König huffs, "it grows fast! Too fast! By the time I go to bed it's already making my face itch!"

"So you keep that on your face?" Lisa points and laughs.

"It's trimmed," König grumbles and rubs his chin before turning to you, "it looks nice. You think it looks nice, right?"

You look at his dark stubble, a stark contrast to his wheat blond hair. In truth, he looks rather handsome with the dark shadow on his jaw. He does his best to keep it nice and trimmed (always in regulation), but since you arrived in Austria five days ago, the stubble has grown into an unruly thing on his face.

"You haven't trimmed in a bit," you admit.

"See! Even your wife thinks it looks like a rat's nest," Klara snorts.

"I wouldn't go that far-"

"I look fine!" König's voice raises up a notch with indignation.

"Mama," Friedrich ducks around the door to the kitchen, "come tell Kilgore he needs to shave."

The little woman pops out of the kitchen to glare at her son. She looks him up and down and scoffs.

"You call yourself a colonel? Tch, you look like a mangy dog."

She ducks back around the corner to tend to the oven.

"I DO NOT LOOK LIKE A DOG!"

Everyone (except you) laughs as König's face turns a bright violent red as he squawks furiously. He huffs and puffs, just on the brink of a meltdown as his family taunts him further.

"And he looked so good with a full bubble beard!" Klara laughs.

"Oh but you looked better," Friedreich snaps another album off the shelf and flicks through the photos, but stops on another page, "oh wait, we'll look at that later. Look at this picture of Kilgore on his first birthday!"

Even you can't help but laugh as Friedrich brandishes the offending photo.

There, bordered in paper butterflies and tulips, is König sitting in a puddle of mud, gleefully shovelling a handful of the muck into his mouth. I the background, a young Friedrich has Stephen in a headlock while Lisa, the only presentable sibling, is eating a slice of König's cake.

"Mama worked for days on that cake, but Kilgore only wanted to eat the mud," Stephen explained as König bellowed slurs at his eldest brother.

Lisa was beside herself with laughter, nearly keeling over out of the chair as Klara pointed out how, in this photo as well, König was completely nude. Apparently, getting young König to wear clothes was quite the task.

"WE DO NOT NEED MORE PICTURES," König roared as Lisa pulled out another album.

König looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel at this rate. The only time you ever saw König this worked up was when he was dealing with subordinates. Never before had you seen König lose his temper quite like this. A part of you was horrified, another part amazed by how easily his siblings pressed all the right buttons to make him tick.

"Look how stoic our little soldier boy is!" Stephen remarked as König smacked his meaty fist against his thigh with a thick thud.

"I. AM. A. COLONEL!" König howled.

He was about to carry on before all the siblings went silent. Even König stilled, his mouth clamping shut with a click as he looked behind you. You turned to look at what stopped them to find the elder Fritz Leichenberg holding up a hand.

He uncrossed his long, long legs and adjusted his half-moon glasses on his hooked nose. Soft, watery blue eyes looked down at his youngest son. He gently pulled his tobacco pipe from beneath his salt and pepper moustache and rang a long, veiny hand through his bushy beard lightly. He blinked once, then said, "Kilgore. Go upstairs and shave. You look atrocious. I can't send out Christmas cards pictures when you look like this."

The room echoes with laughter as König slowly pulls himself to his feet and trudges up the creaking stairs, off to shave the unruly mess off his face.

Regular Fanfics

[whetstonefires]

Man sometimes I still think about Alfred's Bandit Anecdote in The Dark Knight (2008).

So, the most straightforward reading of this sequence seems to have been the one Nolan intended, because he is not actually a subtle filmmaker, and the further we got into the series the more heavily he committed to making Alfred a mouthpiece. Old man provides words of wisdom that frame the correct understanding of the situation; you can tell it's meant to be correct because subsequent Joker appearances reinforce its thesis statement.

Intended takeaway: some men (like the Joker) don't have rational motivations, they just 'want to watch the world burn,' and you have to account for that when trying to counter them. Chaos agents, basically unstoppable by reasonable means.

But the thing is. This is not a story that stands up to even mild interrogation. The number of assumptions Nolan wants us to swallow without blinking is kind of stunning.

First of all the obvious timeline questions that arise: the Anglo-Burmese Wars and periods between and leading up to them where this kind of white man's burden 'delivering jewels to local elites In The Burmese Jungle to sway them toward British interests, but getting waylaid by bandits' scenario makes any sense all, happened in the 19th century.

The Burmese resistance in the 1930s was centered on university student protests and that sort of thing; it was reasonably successful in moving Myanmar toward independence by increments, though who knows what would have happened without WWII. But it did not provide anyone with reasons to be hand-carrying huge gemstones through forests.

Even if we assume this was somehow a 20th century event, it has to have been before WWII unless we want to postulate a complete alt-history setting, and since The Dark Knight leans heavily into being a modern 21st century story with like, cell phone networking as a major plot point, this still makes Alfred old as balls. Born no later than 1920, and probably earlier.

But that's whatever; comics time. Batman Begins did some fun stuff (possibly in imitation of Batman (1980)) with making it ambiguous what decade it was supposed to be set in, though the sequels dropped that conceit. And anyway, people can be 90 years old.

So that's basically fine, although good god Wayne hire some more servants, this man should be fully retired already.

More problematic is the unfettered colonialism of it all, the confident proclamation that since this guy's motive wasn't profit, since he didn't keep the jewels, he had no motive. Because 'inconveniencing the Raj and weakening their control over the locality' isn't a Real Person Motive that a real person could have had. During or soon after failed wars to resist colonial subjugation.

Like. Come on??

The place where this story utterly shoots itself in the foot, though, is the clever bit at the end, where Bruce asks how Alfred's military unit solved the 'bandit stealing jewels he didn't even want' problem and Alfred's like: 'we burned the forest to the ground.'

Because this is so punchy! In screenwriting technical terms, it's quite well done. It's useless advice that loops the story back to its themes; obviously Batman can't burn Gotham down to get the Joker. Even in a Batman movie that doesn't like Batman very much, this is still obvious.

But at the same time this totally takes the legs out from under Alfred's words of wisdom about human nature. Because if that bandit 'wanted' to 'watch the world burn' then what his unit did wasn't so bad, right; he was basically asking for it. Burning a forest down with all the inevitable collateral damage and economic and ecological cost, all for the sake of horribly killing a group of people in the name of government revenues was totally okay guys!

It transforms the whole thing into a pretty obvious post facto rationalization of colonial violence. Which makes the Insights Into Human Nature bit real questionable!

But the movie gives absolutely no sign of having noticed this.

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ mini pac ｡⋆｡ ﾟ

random tarot messages

150 word readings <3

these are bite sized tarot messages with no specific questions being answered, just leaving things to chance and hopefully getting you a piece of knowledge from the cards.

pngs by @florietas

dividers by @aquazero and @cafekitsune

pile one pile two pile three

pile four pile five pile six

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‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

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〰 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 〰

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ pile number one 𓂃⊹

page of wands

It's a good moment to reevaluate the source of your opinions and ideas, as soon you will feel a streak of creative energy and it'd be good to build stronger ideas before you begin to place them in reality or to manifest them onto it. Also an amazing moment to look for connections between the mundane and the divine, not waiting for explicit answers but instead, you should expect the way in which you ask questions to allow for more profound relationships with knowledge. Ideally, you’d channel your creativity in a way that enhances your freedom and expands your possibilities instead of imposing complex dogmatic beliefs to yourself.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ pile number two 𓂃⊹

the empress

Allow yourself to get in touch with the things that come naturally to you instead of forcing yourself to align with actions that are too detrimental for them to bring any actual value or positive impact in your life. I wouldn't take this card into the “divine feminine” approach to things, as it seems more like a calling to nurture your inner world and your personal environments by being in tune with what is genuine to you, and to the way in which you bring value for yourself. I think you are underestimating the valuable qualities you possess and how your energy can be channeled and empowered by just paying more attention to what you deem as “low effort” but can be “high effort” to others. Don't shy away from being confident in your virtues. 

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ pile number three 𓂃⊹

five of wands 

Avoiding conflict at all costs is not ideal, but engaging in conflictive situations guided by your ego is no good either. Sadly, you will be provided with said tense situations so it's better that you take the time to think about how you process feelings of anger, stress and insecurity. You need to be as aware of your own feelings as much as you are capable of deciphering how others might deal with them, especially if their approach to them is outwardly aggressive. There's nothing completely wrong with impulsiveness and emotional reactions, they can lead to meaningful emotional or existential developments; only if there's time, energy and will to do so. Learn how to know when to face obstacles like these and when they're not exactly obstacles, but more of an annoying temporary situation. 

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ pile number four 𓂃⊹

the wheel of fortune

Although it is impossible to have full control over one’s perceived destiny or the chaotic nature of the universe, good fortune relies on the ability to humble our needs for control. As much as it’s healthy to navigate difficult and stressful situations without allowing our emotions to have a negative impact, it is also necessary that we don’t become overly confident and arrogant when things seem to be working in our favor. There’s plenty of our surroundings that we are unable to control and many things within ourselves that are just as difficult to deal with, therefore, it is in our best interest to develop tools and structures that can function as guidance towards a consciousness state that allows us to navigate the ups and downs of life without neglecting the feelings we deal with as a consequence.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ pile number five 𓂃⊹

the moon

You need to allow yourself to distrust and question others. Although it's “common sense” to have good intentions, to be kind, to be respectful and so on, at this point in time we cannot truly have faith that everyone shows a tendency towards having a bare minimum of empathy or at least good intentions. It is easy to follow your intuition or your gut feelings when danger is easily perceived, but trusting your intuition is harder when there are deceptions or illusions that make it so we are almost gaslighting ourselves about how awful we are for not trusting in something or someone because there isn't anything negative in sight. Key word: IN SIGHT. If something doesn’t make enough sense to your peace of mind, it's most likely not worth making it fit into your life. 

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ pile number six 𓂃⊹

page of swords

This card serves as a reminder to keep nurturing your curiosity, specifically by putting an emphasis on the knowledge you can acquire by being more open to hearing about others' experiences. I don’t think you are particularly interested in finding a sense of belonging by allowing people to impose their beliefs onto you, but I do see that maybe you are in need of company to further develop and deepen your relationship with knowledge. You don’t need to hurry up and become desperate to know everything about anything, you also don’t need to limit yourself and your possibilities to traditional ways of learning. At this moment, embracing the unconventional and unexpected teachings, everyday life observations and your own personal thoughts and opinions, will give you the motivation to strengthen your relationship with the more intellectual parts of yourself.

if you enjoyed this post, feel free to check the rest of my account <3 ppssst keep an eye on this blog, there's going to be some ask games and im giving away some free readings soon ;)

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ ko-fi page ✶

⋆bookings for personal readings are open ཐིཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 6

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: (I’m kind of rusty about appropriate warnings so let me know if there’s something I need to add or correct) You dose yourself with poison, he cuts his arm with a knife, you drink his blood, knife play, oral sex female receiving, dirty talk, p in v, some light praise, dubious consent, inappropriate use of a dagger/anal, he fucks you and the dagger essentially fucks him, breeding/pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, black cum ofc, no aftercare

A/N: Alright this chapter is…a lot. The knife scenario I read a few years ago in “Den of Vipers” by K.A Knight and it completely changed my brain chemistry. It inspired me to include a similar situation because it’s so Feyd coded😂😭

Also credits to @sansaorgana for mentioning how Harkonnen blood would be thick and effected by Giedi Prime’s environment and pollution. I love discussing Feyd’s body fluids

Weeks pass before Feyd-Rautha corners you in one of the Baron’s sparse gardens. Garden being a slight exaggeration — really, it’s more of a barren courtyard with a bench. Until your fearsome betrothed strode in, your only company was a few scraggly bushes and the fledgling pilingtam tree keeping you in the shade.

Feyd-Rautha hooks his finger in your book and pulls it away. “Come with me.”

You glare balefully at him. “I was reading that.” It’s the only Harkonnen novel you’ve found that you can stomach. “You can’t just beckon me whenever. Or — and this is blasphemy, I know — you could just ask me if I want to go with you.”

Feyd-Rautha closes the book. “No.”

“You lost my page,” you say with a pout. You debate teaching manners to him again, briefly, before sensing that you’re fighting a losing battle. So instead you snatch the book from his hands.

“Two hundred and thirty eight. Now,” he fixes you with a stern look, “let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

Frankly, you don’t care where he’s taking you. Since the Crucible, you’ve been anxiously waiting for something to do besides answering questions about your upcoming nuptials. Your body aches for purpose. Movement. You also realize, with mixed feelings, that you would probably follow Feyd-Rautha wherever he asked you.

What did that say about your state of mind?

“It’s time for training,” he says.

You trail after him, vaguely disappointed that you weren’t going to finish your book. You tuck it under your arm. How bad could poison training be? Maybe you’d have time to flip through a few pages. Feyd-Rautha eyes you as if he can tell what you’re thinking, but doesn’t comment on it.

The fortress is in full swing for the wedding, which looms only a month and a half away. You would think that’s plenty of time to prepare. But servants are hanging decorations, comparing tasks, and cleaning everything in sight. They quiet as you and Feyd-Rautha stroll past them, and you search their faces for Asha.

She’s been just as busy as everyone else. Everyone but you, of course, who, despite your prominent involvement in the wedding, has been left to your own devices. You weren’t exactly thrilled to dose yourself with poison, but at least it gave you something to look forward to.

“How did you first go about this?” You ask the na-Baron. It’s a strange comfort to be in the presence of someone so unperturbed, confident and assured to a fault, sure, but you knew what to expect from him. He was an asshole, but he would be one regardless.

“Poison tolerance?” He asks.

“No, long walks through the fortress.”

Feyd-Rautha ignores you. “It’s a precaution, mostly. Poison-snoopers can be faulty or influenced. It also gives me an…edge…over others.”

“The others being…?”

“Political allies. Enemies.” You catch the hint of a grin on his lips. “It cuts a formidable image when your guest has no concern for poison.”

“As if you don’t already,” you retort.

“You flatter me.”

“Oh, like you’re not aware.” You roll your eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“Somewhere private,” he says.

You raise your brows. Feyd-Rautha pushes his shoulder suddenly against what you thought until that point was a wall, but it swings open on an invisible seam. “Not like that,” he says, amusement coloring his tone. “Although I could never refuse you, wife.”

The room he leads you into is mostly bare except for a few maps on the walls and a table in the center. You recognize the surface of the table as the topography of Giedi Prime, the vast plains and tiny boxes representing the plethora of factories. You ghost your fingers over it. “What is this place?”

“My strategy room.” When you glance at him imploringly, he sighs and adds in a resigned tone, “Sometimes I find working with the other nobles tedious. I spend my time alone if possible.”

“Hm.” You sit down at the table and try to imagine Feyd-Rautha presiding over it, testing out battle strategies and war maneuvers.

You must sink too far into your own thoughts because it startles you when he sets down a small glass in front of you, nestled in the space between two miniature factories. “We need to start small,” he tells you.

“What is this?”

“Poison.”

You shoot him an annoyed look. “It would just be nice to know what poison I’m ingesting, is all.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He plants his hands on the table and assumes a position that you have a hard time believing he doesn’t know stirs something dark within you. “I’m going to be giving you small doses of poisons most typically used throughout the Known Universe.”

“You’re so kind,” you mutter.

He nudges the glass closer to you. “This is the weakest one of them all. We can work our way up, gauge their effects on you.”

“Like what?” You think back to the day in the arena with Ze’ev, how the flip-dart hidden in his clothing quickly incapacitated you, turning your thoughts to sludge.

“Fatigue. Nausea. Potential fevers, chills, heart palpitations.”

“Oh,” you say miserably, “is that all?”

“No, actually,” he replies, oblivious to your fear, “but sometimes it’s better not to know. Drink.”

Your stomach twists with nerves. But he’s watching you in that anxiety-inducing way he tends to, so you tip the contents of the glass down your throat. He smiles.

Poison training is hell.

You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s not this — constantly being gripped by fatigue and nausea, your body battling persistently against the poisons.

The beginning was the worst. You had never thrown up so much in your life. Feyd-Rautha assured you that you were tolerating the poison better than most, but you highly doubted that. You were couch-ridden for days on end, too weak to move or do much more than eat the food he forced you to. But, slowly, you adjusted to the poison, and Feyd-Rautha gave you higher doses, stronger strains.

A week away from your wedding, he declares that he won’t give you anything new. “But you must continue to take the poisons from before,” he tells you. “Or your body will lose the tolerance and also go through withdrawals.”

Today, however, is one of the worst days you’ve had. You did everything right, but for some reason you were rendered completely helpless, body racked by intense shivers. You are huddled in the corner of the couch in the antechamber when Feyd-Rautha finds you, stopping him in his tracks.

“H-H-Hi,” you sputter.

He crosses the room in a single stride, ripping off your blanket and assessing your shuddering form. “You used too much,” he says accusingly.

“I-I-I did what you-you told me,” you protest, albeit weakly.

His frown pierces you. You’re afraid he’s going to reprimand you, but instead he takes a step backward. “Go to the bed.”

“I-I’m f-f-fine. I can s-stay here.”

He looses a sigh then, effortlessly, sweeps you off the couch and over his shoulder. You want to fight against him but it’s taking all of your strength not to shiver and let him know just how poorly you are.

“Put me d-down,” you try your best to say, but with your face buried in his back, it comes out muffled.

Feyd-Rautha resists your pitiful attempts of subterfuge, and carries you into the bedroom like you weigh nothing. It’s your first time actually being on the bed, and his faintly medicinal scent pervades your senses. Had you ever even seen him sleep in here before? How did it smell so strongly of him?

He props you up against the pillows. You attempt to pull up the bedding to ward off your chill, but he stops you, which requires little effort on his part. You blink. In reply, he reaches into the top drawer of his bedside table and takes out a blunt-looking dagger.

“W-What are y-you doing?”

Feyd-Rautha presses the blade of the dagger against his forearm, cuts a thin line that weeps with a thick, dark liquid that you realize is his blood. You feel dizzy.

“Wh-What —”

“Just stop talking,” Feyd-Rautha growls. “We clot quickly. Drink.”

Drink? You're not entirely sure how well your emotions are coming across in your current state, but he must know how insane he sounds. Well, more insane than usual.

"I-I'm not —" Before your eyes, his dark-colored blood ceases. He utters something under his breath and then puts the dagger to his skin again, cutting it back open like slotting an envelope.

He captures a drop of it on his thumb and pushes it between your lips.

It doesn’t taste quite as bitterly sweet as his cum, you decide, but possesses the same sharp bite. It sears slightly as it dances on your tongue, down your throat.

“More,” he says. He sits down at the edge of the bed and raises his forearm to your mouth.

With no other choices, you obey.

The blood is thicker here, his skin warm beneath your mouth as you lick at the shallow wound. Any strangeness you felt at his request vanishes as the potency of his blood hits you. You hungrily take your fill, and by the time the wound closes again, it’s chased away your chills and the murkiness evading your mind.

“There,” he rasps. He sets the dagger down on the bed, still sporting a trace of his blood.

“Why…why?”

Feyd-Rautha’s lips twitch. “Harkonnen blood is its own sort of poison, courtesy of our planet’s pollution and smog. I suspected it would be enough to counterbalance the poison already in your system.”

You fixate on the wound, how the blood has already congealed. “It stopped,” you say stupidly. But how could you be expected to think properly — you had just drank from his arm, from his blood, to stave off poison that you’d willing ingested.

Feyd-Rautha nods. “Another benefit.”

“Anywhere on your body? It does that?”

He indicates the dagger. “See for yourself.”

A chill runs through you, but now for an entirely different reason. You inch closer to him, tucking your legs under you. He’s agonizingly close, his dark gaze flickering across your face as you take the dagger and touch the tip of the blade to his chin.

“Is that just a ploy so that I’ll cut you?” You ask, heart pounding furiously. You discover with a sickening twist that you do want to cut him, want to slide the blade across his smooth skin and watch the way the blood rises to greet you.

Feyd-Rautha breathes, “Perhaps.”

You’ve never seen him so transfixed, so compliant. Eager. And with his very blood in your veins, emboldening you, issuing a high like you’ve never felt before — you press the blade into his skin. Blood trickles out, and you use your tongue to lick it up, the metallic taste of the blade mingling with the sharpness of his blood.

Next you take the dagger across his jaw, down the column of his throat to the divot that flutters with his pulse. And then down down down to his chest, shearing his shirt with a single slice.

Feyd-Rautha has an infuriatingly perfect chest — muscled, small, tight nipples that you tease with the edge of the blade. He inhales sharply.

“You’re disgusting,” you say without conviction, your free hand gliding down his toned stomach.

He tilts his face up to you. The gesture is so vulnerable, his expression so devastatingly beautiful, that you climb into his lap. His cock, straining against his pants, nudges your center.

“I hate you,” you tell him.

He whispers, “I know.”

There’s no telling who kisses who first — an impasse to your game of trading punishments. His hands are on you in an instant, over your body and in your hair, clamoring to touch you as if you might disappear at any moment. You’re equally as fervent, notching your thumbs by his jaw on either side and holding him to you, mouths open and hungry. His tongue dances over your lips, behind your teeth.

Feyd-Rautha is his own kind of poison, infiltrating you slowly and feasting on your insides. And you take him in like his kisses are the anecdote, the touch of his hands soothing the ache that his particular brand of poison causes.

Though, if he is poison, you can never imagine adapting to this — his passionate, consuming touch, the whine of his desperation, how he embraces you like it’s everything he’s ever wanted. No, if he is poison, you never want to learn to tolerate him.

His fingers work deftly at your clothes. The air rushes to caress your breast, hardening your nipples. Feyd-Rautha closes his lips on one as he palms his hand over the other, and the wet warmth of his mouth sends you to the edge. Your back bows in response, urging him closer. He bites down at your nipple, tugs on it, swipes his tongue over it like a soothing balm, then repeats the process on the other side.

As soon as your mind clears enough to form a rational thought, you fumble to unbuckle his pants. He helps you — one hand on your ass for support as he lifts up his hips and you wriggle his pants down over them.

His cock, liberated from his pants, slaps against his stomach. He fists the base and indulges in a series of lazy strokes.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud.

Feyd-Rautha, returning his mouth to yours, smirks against you. “Your turn.”

He flips you over onto your back in a seamless maneuver, securing your legs around his waist. Feyd-Rautha lingers above you. His dark gaze roams your form as you shimmy out of your dress, leaving you only in your panties. Sometime before he grabbed the dagger, and now uses it to trace a line from between your breasts to your navel.

You gasp. Pain radiates from the thin cut he made, a terrible, delicious heat.

It’s his turn to tend to you now, hands coasting your body as he licks a stripe up your wound and back down, your blood blanketing his tongue. He pauses at your panties, uses both hands to seize you by the hips and drag you to the very edge of the bed, then kneels before you.

You’re already slick with desire and you want to be ashamed but you can’t, not when he ghosts his mouth over your center and you cry out in need.

“So wet for me, wife,” Feyd-Rautha growls. “You want this cock inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out. You claw at the bedding, pulling it taunt around you.

“Oh, but I’ve been waiting for this. To taste you. God, you don’t know how hard it’s been knowing that you’re always just on the other side of that door.” Feyd-Rautha replaces his mouth with the dagger’s blade and you clench in anticipation. The tip of it traces the edges of your panties, your lips, nudges against your entrance. “You infuriate me. I cannot stop thinking of you.”

You’re too overwhelmed to make sense of his admission, but it sends a ripple of delight through you nonetheless. You buck your hips, desperate for the friction that only his mouth can provide.

“Please,” you beg.

The blade of the dagger stills. “Please what?”

“Please.”

You can’t think of anything else to say.

He urges, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I want your mouth on my —”

Feyd-Rautha impatiently cuts away your panties, effectively silencing you. His mouth encloses on your clit. Your words turn into a wail of surprise, of pleasure when he applies pressure with his tongue and then sucks.

Ecstasy spirals through you.

It shouldn’t be a shock that he’s skillful at pleasuring you, at lapping between your lungs like your cunt is the sweetest dessert, yet it still resonates — how he knows exactly when and where to lick, to suckle, to coax more pleading moans from you with his tongue.

And when you come you unravel completely.

“So greedy,” he murmurs as you rise your hips back up to him, beckoning him to continue. “You try to rebel against the idea but you want this cock buried deep inside you, coating you with my cum. Is that right?”

“Yes —”

He slams himself up to the hilt inside you. You cry out in equal parts agony and desire, back bowing, walls stretching to accommodate him. Feyd-Rautha doesn’t wait for you to adjust, drawing out and back in with feverish vigor. His hands pin you to the bed to keep you from arching away, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“You feel incredible,” he says, your name falling from your lips like a prayer. “So nice and tight.”

You clench around him. Feyd-Rautha mumbles his appreciation, slows his movements. “I won’t be able to last if you keep doing that,” he tells you, “you feel so good. So fucking good.”

You put up a protest as he withdraws, leaving you feeling horribly empty. Feyd-Rautha turns you onto your belly, ensures that your knees are at the edge of the bed, ass up. A mortifying heat surges through you — completely exposed, vulnerable to his wandering gaze. He runs his hand over your ass, drifts to your soaked cunt.

“I want to possess you wholly.”

You whimper in response. You hear movement from behind, and, in the absence of his attention, dip your hand down to your cunt to alleviate the mounting pressure, but you’re declined the pleasure.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”

He lines himself with your entrance. This time when he seats himself inside you it’s painfully slow, deliberate, every inch driving you closer to another orgasm. Feyd-Rautha starts a slow pace, pulling his cock out till his swollen head brushes past your lips, then back in. Eventually he increases his speed until he’s snapping his hips against you, penetrating you deeply, fully, invoking breathless sounds from both of you.

Feyd-Rautha pursues his pleasure the same way he fights — violent, ruthless in its execution. You’re aware, somewhere in the recesses of your mind, that you’re going to be a quivering mess tomorrow. But in the moment you can only immerse yourself in this man: Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, a monster in his own right.

In a burst of bright light, an orgasm cleaves you in half, Feyd-Rautha pumping into you until it surrenders to his darkness. Before you can even recover, you feel the familiar coldness of the dagger’s blade biting into your back, down your spine, circling your ass.

He brushes his thumb over your ass. “Have you ever been taken here before?”

Your breath hitches. “Once.”

Feyd-Rautha emits a satisfied hum. From your peripheral you watch him reach into the bedside table again, this time to fish out a cloth to wipe down the dagger. Your walls clench.

“I want to see this dagger in that pretty ass of yours.”

Feyd-Rautha traces your cunt, gathering your wetness on his fingers to coat the handle of the dagger. He spits on your ass, rubs it over you. “You have to relax,” he rasps. The handle of the dagger pushes against you and you instinctively flex as the first ridge enters you. “Relax, wife.“

You oblige, and he’s able to ease the rest of it inside. It’s tight, full, uncomfortable, but not unbearable. When you feel Feyd-Rautha notch himself at your entrance, alarm seizes you. “What are you —?”

He plunges himself inside you.

And as he does, the blade of the knife punctures his skin with a soft squelch.

You gasp. A growl rumbles through his chest. You can’t see, but you can hear the blade pierce him with each ministration of his hips. You can’t believe him, what he’s doing, but the sounds he makes as he enters you and the dagger enters him at the same time are inescapable, intoxicating. And with the added fullness of his cock and the handle of the dagger, you build towards your orgasm, toes curling.

Feyd-Rautha sinks into you again and again, dagger piercing his side. It prompts a steady stream of his blood that joins with your slickness. His breath quickens. “You take my cock so well. Look at you, so full, so beautiful.”

He slows to remove the dagger from you, taking his time as not to harm you. You shudder. The dagger is tossed to the side still covered in his blood.

“I get to fuck this pretty pussy as much as I want,” he rasps, more to himself than you. “Fill you with my seed, over and over until it takes, then fuck you when you’re pregnant and round with my child. Fuck. I want to see you. I want to see your face as I cum inside you for the first time.”

The image he paints has you gasping for breath. Eager to please, you turn onto your back and present yourself to him. Feyd-Rautha is a god of war, of wrath, wreathed in shadows, and he buries himself into you like he’s seeking redemption. You cry out as he nears his own orgasm, tears blurring your eyes — he sheathes himself fully one final time then spills his seed in your cunt.

Your walls pulse, clamping down around him. He holds you close as he finishes, warm breath fanning your skin, jolting slightly. It’s only when he removes himself, bites playfully at your breast, that you realize the wetness you feel dripping onto your belly is his blood.

“Feyd — what, what were you thinking?” You shove him off you.

He stands, naked form on display, blood dribbling down from the wound in his stomach. It’s distracting, frankly, and it just reminds you of how it had gotten there.

“I wasn’t,” he says simply.

You open your mouth to say something else, reprimand him, maybe, but then he runs his fingers along your thigh and scoops up the cum that’s escaped from inside you. He pushes it back into your cunt, which is still beating with the memory of his cock, blissfully sore.

Feyd-Rautha says, “Don’t worry about me, wife. I will heal. You worry about keeping me inside you.”

He stands to walk away and as he does, you mutter to no one, “I wasn’t worried” although you were. You tilt your hips up. Getting pregnant isn’t exactly your top priority right now, but the alternative is having his cum dribble down your thighs, and the black fluid is a little concerning to see smeared across your skin.

What child could be born from such a substance?

You angle your head to see Feyd-Rautha. He stands at the threshold of the bathroom, back turned to you. You admire his physique. For all of his misgivings — his psychotic tendencies, the murder, the way he plays his games with you — he’s irritatingly attractive. You close your eyes and let your head thump onto the bed.

You open them again when you hear the bedroom door swing open. “Are you leaving?” You ask, exasperated.

“Yes,” Feyd-Rautha says. He’s dressed, sadly. “I have other business to tend to.”

You scowl at the implication of being business.

“I’ll be back before the wedding. Keep up with your tolerance. Just know that I won’t fuck you every time you over dose,” he tells you. A million questions jump to mind — and quite a few curses — but he’s gone before you can say any of them.

Spent and still reeling from your recent fucking, you collapse back onto the bed and throw your arm over your eyes. What were you doing?

You were going to marry him.

Part 7

Taglist:

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[kiss-me-cill-me]

The Ninth Crewmember

Pairing: Robert Capa x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: You are the ninth crewmember aboard Icarus II, and as the journey wears on you begin to find it harder and harder to ignore your feelings for Capa. Maybe it would be easier if he'd quit dragging you into bed with him...

Warnings: Smut, mentions of reader taking birth control pills as well as other medications, mild angst/pining, nightmares, literal sleeping together, the fun kind of sleeping together, Capa is a bit of a dick but also a sadboi, teasing, begging, use of "good girl" (whoops), bad puns

A/N: Can you tell that I struggle with titles haha? Anyway, finally getting around to cross-posting this from AO3 in my continued attempts to fuel @cillmequick's Capa thots 😉

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Your fingers hovered over the panel, looking for the button you were supposed to press. They were all clearly labeled, but there were so many of them that you were having a hard time locating the one you needed. Your index finger moved hesitantly closer to a square near the bottom right of the panel.

“Not that one.”

Capa’s voice behind you made you jump. He sounded… not exactly annoyed, but tired by having to explain again what you were supposed to be doing. Your cheeks heated up as he leaned in close, chin hovering just above your shoulder as he looked at the panel.

“That one.”

He pointed at a button in the lower left, which, embarrassingly, was flashing bright orange and labeled “TEST” in all capital letters. You felt the need to apologize, but held your tongue. Capa went back to doing whatever it was he had been concentrating on before, at the other end of the room. The space he left in his wake felt oddly noticeable.

“Okay,” he said, taking his time to flip a couple of switches above his head. “Ready in three… two… one…”

You pressed the button as he finished counting down, and instantly the room in front of the control chamber was filled with spots of twinkling light. They seemed to dance over every surface for just a moment. The display lasted for less than three seconds, but it was breathtaking even in impermanence. 

You looked over at Capa, your eyes still shining with the beauty of it, only to see him calmly taking notes. His expression was carefully neutral, lips pressed together as he scribbled with short, purposeful strokes. 

“Capa?” you asked.

“Hm?”

He didn’t look up as he continued to record his observations, and you didn’t wait for him to before continuing.

“Do you think the real thing will look like that?”

Capa stopped writing for a moment, and seemed to consider your question seriously before answering.

“No,” he said finally, putting his stylus down and fixing you with a gaze that made you breath stop. “Even after watching a thousand of these simulations, I don’t think that any one of them could ever capture the true beauty. What it will really look like.”

You were standing a few feet away from him, fixed in place by his intense gaze. Something about Capa had fascinated you, from the moment you’d stepped aboard Icarus II. His bluntness, maybe, or the way his eyes seemed to scan over everything in front of him, as if he were reading it all - people, data, situations - like they were a book. And you would be lying if you said that it didn’t make your heart swell whenever he did it to you.

“You and I will be some of the only people to ever live who will see something so magnificent,” Capa said quietly. “We should count ourselves lucky.”

You nodded in agreement, too entranced and too afraid of flubbing your words to reply.

“Thank you for your help,” Capa continued. He went back to note taking, as if he hadn’t just been waxing poetic about life and the universe. “You can go.”

Capa’s words rang in your head as you made your way to the medbay. It had been hours since you’d left his lab, but the weight still seemed to resonate. A beauty unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. You reflected on the thought as you reported to Searle, to help with a few things before going to bed.

One of Searle’s duties was handing out supplements, and he often asked for your help with making the deliveries. Icarus II was a very large ship, and your fellow crewmembers were usually spread out in the various quarters and chambers. It was faster to do the job with two people.

Before heading off, you worked on separating various pills into small plastic cups, one for each person. There were quite a few pills that everyone had to take every day. Space travel was hard on the body, and it was difficult if not impossible to get all of the necessary nutrients from the food you had aboard. Even with the gardens and the ability to have fresh vegetables, you all still had to take a lot of supplements. 

You finished doling out the vitamins, and then opened the final bottle of pills. You, Cassie, and Corazon also received one other daily medication: an oral contraceptive. You dropped three little pills into three little cups.

As you replaced the bottle’s lid, your mind drifted again to Capa. The weight of him hovering just behind you, so close that you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wondered if he had any idea that he made your heart flutter just by being next to you. If he did, he certainly didn’t show it. Capa was incredibly hard to read, but for some reason that only made you want him all the more. Your thoughts wandered, imagining things that you knew would never happen. His hand reaching out to you; the feel of his fingers against your waist; his beautiful blue eyes rolling back as he-

You slammed the bottle of pills down on the counter, banishing the fantasies before you could get too wrapped up in them. It was a bad idea to sleep with your coworkers. The birth control pills were mandated for female crewmembers, but they were precaution rather than permission. Nine people cooped up together, for years. It was better to prevent any potential problems from happening. It was only logical to mitigate the risk. But that didn’t mean that relationships were encouraged.

And besides, you told yourself, it's not like Capa would be interested anyway.

You picked up the little plastic vial with your pills, and tipped them all into your mouth, swallowing quickly. 

They burned your throat on the way down.

Capa’s eyes looked almost white in the vivid yellow light of the sun. He looked at the dying star, and you looked at him, breathless again at the way he seemed to silently consider everything in front of him. The edges of his thumbs ghosted over his lips as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, as if to get just a bit closer to that magnificent light.

You were sitting in the observatory, Capa’s empty vial of pills placed precariously on the edge of the bench between you. It had taken you quite a while to find him. He often stayed up late working in his lab, and it was almost rare to see him outside of it. He had been your last delivery, so you figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit with him awhile before heading to your quarters.

You’d been wrong, of course; it hurt more than anything to sit next to him and not have the courage, or the recklessness, to reach out and touch him. As he looked on with amazement at the pulsating sun, you tore your eyes away from him to peer out as well. Dark webs of red and black stretched over the star’s surface. It was strange to think about - how up close it all looked so different from how it had back on Earth. It took up the entire viewing window; so large that it almost felt like it could swallow you at any moment, despite still being millions of miles away.

As he leaned forward, Capa’s dog tags dangled in front of his chest. You wanted nothing more than to grab them. Wrap your fingers around the thin cord holding them, and pull him to you until you both tumbled off the edge of something and into the blazing unknown. 

Your tongue darted out to lick your lips. Chapped from the heat of the sun.

“It’s getting late,” you whispered, hoping that he would break the spell so that you wouldn’t have to. “You should get to bed, Capa.”

“Hard to when the sun’s always right there, isn’t it?” he asked, cryptically. 

“I guess it is,” you agreed. “But you should still get some rest.”

Capa nodded, and rose from the bench, crushing his empty cup in his hand. He looked back at you, seemed as if he was about to say something, and then left the room without uttering a word. You let out a rough breath, shaking even as you were bathed in the glowing light.

A noise woke you up from your fitful sleep. You’d had a lot of trouble closing your eyes in the first place - probably because of the way your heart was still hammering in your chest, and the way your mind was racing from the events of the day. Still, it was odd to hear any sort of noise at night. Usually the hallways of the ship were deserted, as the crew all slept in their separate chambers. You listened closely, trying to identify the noise through the haze of sleep still clouding your senses.

You heard it again: a muffled banging followed by what sounded like someone struggling. 

Curious, you got out of bed and padded softly across the floor of your small room. The door slid open soundlessly, and as you stepped out into the hall you heard the noise a third time. Now you could clearly tell that it was coming from across the hall. Capa’s room.

You hesitated for a moment, closed fist raised and ready to knock. He probably wouldn’t want you to bother him, but what if something was wrong and you ignored it? You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. You knocked.

Another muffled sound came from inside, unintelligible. 

“Capa?” you whispered, lips pressed as close to the door as you could manage. You didn’t want to wake anyone else up.

There was no answer.

Well, you were already here. You might as well go in and make sure he was okay, just in case. Pressing the small button to open the door, you slipped quietly into his room. The door slid closed behind you.

Capa’s room was entirely dark, unlike the faint, recessed glow of the hallway. It took your eyes a moment to adjust, but when they finally did you could see Capa asleep in his bed, thrashing against some unseen threat. He was having a nightmare.

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. You shouldn’t have barged in; this was his personal space. He was vulnerable, and clearly going through something unpleasant. Knowing Capa, you felt certain that he wouldn’t want any of the others seeing him like this, including you. His brows creased and lips pressed feverishly together in his sleep. You turned to leave, feeling foolish.

“Who’s there?”

The sound of Capa’s voice behind you made you freeze. Just like earlier, in the lab, a shiver inched down your spine at the thought of facing him. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“It’s me,” you responded, turning around.

He was sitting up in bed, blankets pooled around his waist. Shirtless. You felt your face heating up, and were relieved that he couldn’t see your eyes widen in the dark.

“Oh,” said Capa softly. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um… I heard something and I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Against your better judgment, you took a few steps toward him as you spoke. There was a chair next to his bed, and you sat in it, leaning forward on your elbows as you tried to read his expression. The lines of his face betrayed nothing, as usual.

“Is… everything okay?” you asked hesitantly.

Capa swallowed before answering, his eyes flitting up to land on your face. Even in the dark, somehow they seemed to shine. You wanted to look away. You knew you should. But looking into his eyes felt the same as the rushing weightlessness of looking into the sun.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Sometimes I have nightmares.”

You nodded, a little surprised he had opened up to you..

“Me too,” you admitted.

Capa seemed to understand what you meant, without you having to say it. He didn’t look away from you as he spoke.

“It is frightening,” he told you. “To be face to face with all of it. The beauty. The scale, unlike anything you’d ever seen back on Earth.” Your mind flashed back to Capa in the observation deck, eyes wide open and leaning forward toward the molten sun. You had thought he was fascinated, but maybe it was something more like the magnetic pull of fear that made him inch closer. 

“But I meant what I said earlier,” he continued. “We are lucky to be here.”

Silence hung between you for a moment. 

“I’m sorry for letting myself in,” you said finally. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Don’t be,” Capa said. “It’s nice to be checked up on.”

You smiled softly, even as your heart hammered in your chest. You put your hands on your knees and stood up from the chair, then leaned down to look at Capa one last time. He was still sitting up in bed, propped on one elbow, facing slightly toward you. A breath caught in your throat as you reached out and placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

“Get some rest, Capa,” you told him, giving a gentle squeeze.

As you moved your hand away, suddenly it was stopped by strong, stable fingers. You looked down to see Capa grabbing your wrist, looking up at you with those damn sensuous eyes. This time, your heart stopped.

“Stay with me?” Capa asked, the barest hint of a prayer in his voice.

“I…”

“Please?”

Time seemed to stand still as you looked at him. A trace of fear in the very corner of his eyes. A few pieces of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pressing just a bit too tight.

“Okay,” you agreed. The word seemed to carry all of the air in your lungs along with it, out into the vacant night.

You sat on the edge of his bed, awkwardly facing him, and Capa moved backward to make more space for you. Hesitant, you weren’t sure if he wanted you to lie down next to him. It wasn’t exactly a roomy bed, not being intended for more than one person to occupy at a time. You flittered with indecision as Capa settled back into his pillows.

“C’mere.”

Suddenly, an arm was around your waist. And then you were being hooked into Capa’s body, your back pressing snugly against his chest. Capa sighed behind you, his breath tickling the back of your neck. His arm was still draped around your waist, and his lips just barely brushed against you.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

You let out a shaky breath, and prayed that Capa couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

The next morning, you woke up alone. You tried to ignore your disappointment. Capa was an early riser; the type to get a head start on the day by spending all hours in his lab, including the ones before anyone else on the ship was awake. You had always seen him as a hard worker, but after seeing him so unusually agitated last night, you now wondered if there weren’t other reasons he barely seemed to sleep.

You looked around the small room for a few moments, reflecting on what had happened. Part of you still couldn’t believe it. Was it possible that Capa had feelings for you, or were you just a warm body to sleep next to? Did it even matter? If it meant you got to press yourself up against him, you honestly didn’t care whether there was anything more to it.

But then anxiety clouded your mind. What if Capa had left because he was embarrassed? Too shy to confront you about the mistake he’d made in asking you to stay with him? He was, generally, very straightforward - but you also got the sense that he liked to avoid conflict if possible. And he was so damn hard to read. You sat up and put your feet on the floor, crossing your legs and squeezing them together. He was driving you crazy, and the worst part was, you were way too much of a coward to tell him about it.

You stood, made a sound of frustration, and carefully left the room - looking both ways before you stepped out into the hallway. It was still early, but you certainly didn’t need anyone seeing you step out of Capa’s room first thing in the morning. Rumors traveled faster in the cramped halls of a spaceship than lightning on a summer’s night. You slipped back into your own room, and got ready for the day. Maybe, later, you would confront Capa.

You spent the day avoiding Capa. Which wasn’t too hard; he really did spend most of his time in his lab. You focused on helping Corazon in the oxygen garden, trying to distract yourself with the calming, white-noise sound of water. It didn’t do much good for your nerves, unfortunately. 

As the hours wore on, you became more and more agitated, and ultimately, convinced that Capa regretted your night together. It was disappointing, sure, but this was really just a testament to why you shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. It was a bad idea to sleep with your coworkers. Even if you did literally only sleep with them.

That night, you begged off of helping Searle with the medications; telling him you had a headache and wanted to get to bed. Really, you just couldn't face the thought of handing Capa his little plastic cup of pills, watching as he observed you with his characteristic disinterest. Searle added a few ibuprofen to your medications and watched as you swallowed them down, before telling you he’d handle it and to get some rest.

Eyes on the floor, you headed to your room.

This was not good. You still had years left on the ship, pressed together with everyone in tight quarters. And Capa was right across the hall from you. There was no possible way to avoid him, and yet, how were you supposed to face him after the embarrassment of being ignored and rejected? Your thoughts were still swirling as you reached the door to your quarters, and pressed the button to go inside.

“Sleeping alone tonight?”

The familiar voice behind you caught you off guard. You hadn’t seen him there.

“I didn’t realize there was another option.”

You turned around to face him, slowly. Capa was standing in the open doorway to his room, hands in his pockets and arms unfairly attractive in his light gray tank top. There was just a hint of mischief in his eyes as they slowly swept over you, and it made you feel both anger and arousal.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Capa said, again seeming to sense what you were feeling without you even telling him. “Trey needed my help with something, and I figured you wouldn’t want me to wake you. Ooor want to walk out together in front of him.”

You felt yourself starting to soften, but still gave your best attempt at a pout as you crossed your arms.

“You could have told me earlier.”

“I know. And I am sorry.” Capa took a step back into his room. “Let me make it up to you?”

It was the wrong decision to follow him. You knew this, but you did it anyway. If only to finish the conversation in the relative privacy of Capa’s room instead of out in the hallway where anyone could hear you. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Please don’t be mad?” 

Capa’s room was dark, again, and it took your eyes a few seconds to adjust. When you could see him clearly, he was looking down at you, careful expression and head cocked to the side as he awaited your answer.

“Okay,” you agreed.

You were rewarded with a small smile from Capa, and instantly your heart melted. You really couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you wanted to. He was just too damned attractive.

“Let’s go to bed then,” Capa said happily.

He tore off his shirt as he walked to the bed, and for a second you weren’t sure how you were going to stay upright. Capa stood by the bed and waited for you.

“Ladies first.”

“I, um…” you began. “Maybe I should get my pajamas out of my room.”

“Mmm, you don’t really need them.”

Capa took a step toward you and reached over, pulling you close to him. At the same time, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. And before you could protest, he was pulling the fabric up and over your head, leaving you only in shorts and a sports bra.

“That’s better,” he smirked.

Capa’s warm fingers landed on your waist, and you felt yourself swoon again. If it weren’t for his piercing blue eyes holding you in place, you were certain you would have fallen over.

Gently, Capa guided you to bed and let you climb in first, before crawling after you. You were spooning again, this time with you lying closest to the wall. With Capa’s body pressed against you, the result was a warm but not uncomfortable closeness. It felt like you were boxed into your own little world, even as the vastness of space threatened to spill in all around you.

Capa’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you in even tighter. You settled back against him, all of your earlier tension melting away. This was nice, whatever it was. You had made up your mind to just enjoy it. It had been a long time since you’d been so close to someone. Capa’s long hair tickled your neck and shoulders, and you exhaled as he-

“Capa!”

His mouth was suddenly on your shoulder, kissing rough enough to leave a bruise. You felt heat rush to your face once again.

“Shhhh,” he teased, lips brushing against you. “Don’t want anyone else to hear us, right?”

“What are you doing?” you whispered frantically.

“Making it up to you,” Capa replied, devilishly. “Like I said I would.”

He put his lips on your neck this time, kissing and scraping your soft skin with his teeth. Despite yourself, you let out a small whimper. Capa’s arms tightened around you.

“Do you forgive me?” Capa asked. You could feel him smiling into your neck.

“I-I don’t know.” A sudden surge of boldness swept through you. “You might need to convince me some more.”

“Hmmm,” Capa growled, directly into your ear. “Wonder how I can do that…"

One of his hands trailed lazily up and down your thigh. His touch was feather-light; moving so slowly that it had your head spinning. Without warning, he grabbed the back of your leg, pads of his fingers pressing into your bare flesh.

“Oh-”

The word left your lips involuntarily, and you felt Capa smirk against you again.

“Think I might have a few ideas…” he said.

“Capa, I-” Before you could get out more than two words, his hand had snaked around to the front of your shorts and was pushing past your waistband. Separated only by the cloth of your panties, his fingers pressed against the wetness that was quickly spreading between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he whispered. “I knew you were into me, but I didn’t know you had it this bad.”

You arched your back against his bare chest, too drunk on his fingers to formulate a response. And he hadn’t even pushed past your panties yet; he was just touching you through the fabric as you fell apart for him.

“Good girl,” he rasped, sending another wave of euphoria from your neck to your throbbing cunt. “So eager. Want me to put ‘em inside you?”

You nodded, desperate but not trusting your voice enough to speak. Capa slid his hand past the final layer of fabric that separated you, and then one of his fingers was pressing into you. You squeezed your legs together, trapping his hand, and Capa quickly added another finger.

“Fuuuuuck,” he hissed. 

His fingers curled, pulling at the strings of tension that were already building in your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to scream for him, but knew you shouldn't. The walls of the ship were far from soundproof, and there were rooms on either side of you.

Capa’s thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it as his fingers continued to move inside of you. You were desperate for something to grab onto, but the only thing in front of you was blank wall. You settled for wrapping your legs around his, entangling yourselves together to give you some semblance of being grounded. You bucked against his hand, begging for more friction.

“Forgive me yet?” Capa teased, his breath ghosting over your ear again.

You shook your head no; not willing to give up on the game just yet. Behind you, Capa chuckled.

“So stubborn,” he muttered. “You really want to make me work for it.”

Capa took his fingers away, and you moaned at the sudden loss of him. Not wasting any more time, he grabbed your shorts and pulled them down. You had a brief moment to wonder what you had gotten yourself into.

You’d felt his growing bulge press into your back as Capa had teased you with his fingers, and now you felt him sliding out of his sweatpants. You were both naked from the waist down, and-

“Fuck, Capa.”

He was brushing the tip over your entrance, not pressing into you yet but just taunting with the idea of it. His hand was firmly at the base of his shaft, ready to guide himself up into you.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Please, Capa.”

“Wanna hear you say it.”

“I need you inside me,” you whispered.

“Fucking beg for it.”

With a frustrated whine, you pushed down and back, forcing his cock into your aching pussy. He was such a tease; you couldn't take it any longer. He was so hard he slid right into you, and the stretch against your walls was like heaven.

Without warning, your orgasm broke over you, crashing into your body with an intensity unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was bliss and beauty and all for the man who was ruining you with every touch. You pressed harder, wanting to feel Capa inside of you as deep as you possibly could. You arched against him, head falling back against his shoulder as you rode out the high.

Capa grabbed at your breasts roughly.

“You know,” he began, “you've never been very good at following directions.”

He pulled out of you suddenly, making you gasp as you clenched around nothing. Quickly, you were flipped onto your back, and then Capa was hovering over you, his eyes burning ice blue.

“Let's try that again,” he said, lining himself up as he leaned forward, pressing his whole body against yours. “I want you. To fucking. Beg.”

“Capa, please,” you breathed.

“Please what?”

“Please put it in me! God, I want you to fill me up. Please, please-”

Capa smirked above you, and your eyes rolled back in your head.

“That's my good girl.”

The sound that left your mouth as he entered you once again would have been mortifying, had you been thinking straight enough to hear it. As it was, Capa seemed to drink up your pathetic mewls and breathy sighs. He pumped in and out of you a few times, watching as you bounced on the bed beneath him.

“Should've gotten you in my bed a long time ago,” Capa panted, still pumping into you relentlessly. “I could've been listening to your pretty noises this whole time.”

His face was right next to yours; the stubble on his jaw scratching you with every thrust. You could feel his lips brushing against your ear as he continued.

“Kinda regret wasting all those hours in the lab with you doing actual work. It's a lot more fun for me to press your buttons.”

Your arms and legs wrapped around him, and your fingers tangled in his hair. Capa kissed you roughly on the lips. His thrusts started to get sloppier, falling out of their methodical rhythm.

“Gonna let me cum inside you, yeah?”

You could do nothing but wrap your legs around him tighter, pinning him in place.

“Fuck, that's right. Gonna take all of it and beg for more. I'll have you in here every fucking night, on your back for me, screaming so that everybody hears how bad you want me to stick it in you.”

Capa’s mouth was going to be the death of you. You clenched around him, silently begging him to cum. It was humiliating, how badly you wanted to be filled by him.

“Oh, fuck!” Capa shouted, entirely too loud.

He held you tight as he emptied into you, giving a few final, weak thrusts. He was breathing heavily, still looming over you as his chest heaved. After a few seconds, he pulled back to look at you.

“So, does that make up for leaving this morning?” he asked, smirk still plastered on his face.

“I… don't know,” you panted. “I think we might need to do it once more… to make sure.”

You looked up at him, mischief playing in your own eyes. Capa wasn't the only one who could tease.

“Oh yeah? Only once more?” he prodded. 

He reached up to push the hair out of his face, slicked down with the sweat of his exertion. But despite that, you could already feel him getting hard again.

“Well, maybe a few times,” you smiled.

You leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 3 - The Trials

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader A/N: Chapter 3 is here! I'm glad I was able to write this out. As usual, this has been adapted to y/n format. To read the OC version, check out AO3.

Oh, and I highly recommend listening to Yet by Switchfoot while reading this chapter. It just pairs well. Warnings: childhood trauma, lots of angst

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Nanami masterlist

“By facing your deepest regrets.”

Nanami feels a chill rake over his spine as the shadow being says the words.

“Regrets? There isn’t a single sorcerer in the world that doesn’t have regrets. There’s no good way to rank them.”

“Really 7:3 sorcerer? You don’t believe some regrets hurt more than others?” The Spectator watches with keen eyes as Nanami contemplates its words. There’s a pregnant pause while he considers, glancing around at Phantom Tokyo as he does so. He didn’t like how the shadow easily figured out what he’d been hiding for years. 

A sorcerer’s life was always full of regrets; regret for not being normal, regret over their fallen comrades, regret over not taking time to themselves, regret for not being able to fall in love freely.

“What good is spending time thinking about regrets anyway?” he asks finally. “There’s nothing we can do about them. We learn to accept them and move on.”

“Have you? Accepted, that is?” the shadow asks back. Nanami stares at it, feeling a jolt pass through him.

“Of course I have. Now unless time travel is something the purgatory realm offers, I don’t see the point. I can’t go back and undo the things I regret. So of course I learned to accept them.”

“Then why do you never allow yourself to think about them? If you’ve really accepted them, then thinking about them shouldn’t bring that feeling of guilt in your chest, should it?” There’s a sly tone to the shadow’s question as it asks.

Taken aback, Nanami glares at it but doesn’t answer. Anyone who had lived his life wouldn’t question the guilt that accompanied his regrets. It was an endless cycle, reminding himself that most of the things that had happened weren't things he could have necessarily controlled yet it weighed down heavily on him. And how could they not? He was there when those awful things happened. It was a natural human tendency to wonder if the outcome may have been changed if he had done something differently.

The shadow does not fail to notice the less-than-kind expression on his face. “The only reason I ask, sorcerer, is because many try and fail to escape the purgatory realm even after agreeing to face their deepest regrets. Most believe it is coming to terms with them when in fact, it’s more than that.” 

It glides slightly closer to him before continuing. “It’s not enough that you come to terms with your regrets. But it’s learning to recognize that despite everything, despite all the guilt and unhappiness, life is still worth living. Many do not make it to that stage, and if that concept fails to take root, then the realm decides your life isn’t worth saving, and it will do what it was created to do, and end your life for you. You must want to live so much that all the regrets that feel like failures become reasons to live.”

“That’s unrealistic. Shouldn’t you have to find new things to live for instead? Who would want to continue living because of their regrets?”

“And what’s the guarantee those new things won’t become regrets later? Life doesn’t necessarily go linearly, does it? Something that brought you joy one day can make you miserable the next. It’s the same with people and relationships, isn’t it? You could have the best relationship with someone, and one day, they may hurt you, or you hurt them, and that too becomes a regret. Depending on the situation, it may be superficial or deep. If that person means enough to you, you won’t end the relationship because of that single regret, do you? Sometimes people experience multiple regrets with the people in their lives. It’s the same with wanting to live. You can keep finding new reasons to live, but ultimately, it’s realizing that life is worth living even with regrets.”

Nanami ponders the words, the frown on his face deepening. So many people in his life had come and gone. Some had been his choice, others due to circumstances beyond his control. He thinks about everyone he currently knows, and the shadow chuckles at his state. “I promise I’m not speaking in riddles meant to be solved. This journey is different for everyone. For some, it’s simple. Others need a few reminders about how much opportunity life offers.”

Nanami paces up and down the aisles of the bookstore, contemplating. “And what does facing one’s regrets look like?”

“It’s different for each person that enters the Trials. Some say it’s a withered garden, and they need to tend to the most neglected flowers and once the garden is in bloom, they can go back to living. Others are the only doctor in a hospital full of sick patients and don’t get respite until everyone is nursed back to health. But I will say that not everyone makes it through. Some become consumed by what they see or begin to feel hopeless with the amount of work necessary to survive. You have an additional restriction of being at the mercy of however long the neutralized energy remains in that charm of yours. So I’d say to not waste it much longer.”

Nanami glances at the aum charm on his wrist and feels a tinge of hope bubble inside him. He tries to think optimistically. Finding reasons to live even with the regrets…he hadn’t considered it that way. 

“You also have an unexpected plus. You have someone who desperately hopes you might come back to them. Most don’t necessarily have that privilege. The additional incentive will hopefully allow you to navigate this quicker.” The shadow adds trying to gauge his reaction.

Nanami again looks doubtfully at the charm. Deep in his heart, wedged away was a little box he hadn’t dared to open or peek at since he locked it away at 16. Even the sheer idea of it felt taboo, and he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on it. But he allowed himself a moment of guilty pleasure, wondering if y/n had received his message by now. What would be your reaction? Shock? Happiness? Would you be crying tears of joy? 

He tries to imagine your face, putting together fragments of the various expressions he had seen during your time together. The lines of dissatisfaction that tugged at the corners of your mouth when he kept saying logistically sorcerers didn’t live very long, the glitter in your eyes when Itadori-Kun brought back a pastry for you, or the melancholic way the tip of your nose turned red when you watched those sad movies when he was teaching you how to channel your energy into the cursed doll. The day you had chosen Sophie’s Choice was a hard day overall, with him coming back from a mission only to see you, Ino-Kun, and Itadori-kun squished together on the sofa, the doll on your lap, all of you with tears in your eyes. 

Would you have cried like that for him after learning about his supposed death? Or maybe it was more intense than that? The kind of ugly crying where one trembles and can’t catch their breath? Or maybe there hadn’t been any crying at all. He shakes his head. He had no evidence that he had meant anything to you at all. The aum charms had been put on Ino-Kun and Itadori-Kun as well. Yet part of him hoped you had felt some kind of grief, that he had meant something to you, even if it was just as your teacher. 

In any case, whether or not you had cried was irrelevant. As the shadow had pointed out, it was thanks to your charm that he was now alive, and that wasn’t a thing to be taken lightly.

“You called it the Trials?” he asks The Mediator, who nods. 

“I will have to send you into another space where you can deal with your regrets. It’s rumored to be inside one’s heart but so far, no one has been able to confirm that. Now remember sorcerer. Once inside, you must look at your regrets, each one, learn the lesson it provides, and accept that you can live, despite having it. This isn’t about coming to terms with your regrets. It’s about understanding that your life isn’t any lesser to live just because you have them.”

Still not entirely convinced he knew what the shadow meant, he nods shakily. 

“Take your time, but don’t dawdle. You don’t have forever. And when in doubt, remember the reason you’re alive right now.”

“Have people have been successful before?”

“Indeed. And went on to live very happy lives, in fact even fuller lives than they had before.”

Nanami feels his pulse quicken. He had more questions but it felt pointless to ask them. As the shadow had pointed out, he was wasting precious neutralized cursed energy. He can feel his earlier dream of dying, of fading away into oblivion, slipping away like water through his fingers. 

“Ready?” The shadow’s silvery eyes gleam at him, waiting. 

With resolve, Nanami nods. It felt daunting, but he knows now he has to try. That there might be things he still needed to experience in the world of the living. 

The Mediator gives him a nod of finality before raising a shadowy limb from its side, looking eerily like the Grim Reaper for a moment, black smoky fingers curling up into its palm. Nanami turned to look behind him, transfixed, as what appeared to be a rectangle of light began to materialize. It had a strange metallic look, and as it grew larger, he could have sworn he heard the faint pulsation of a heart fill the space in the bookstore. Perhaps he really was going into a dimension of his own heart. The thought filled him with wonder, something he hadn’t felt since the loss of innocence during his teen years. 

He knew from a medical standpoint that his heart would be the same as any other human being, but he couldn’t help but try to imagine what it looked like in this dimension. Was it warm? Cold? Would he get a garden or a hospital? Or something more wondrous and complex than either of those? The rectangle finally stops growing and hovers a few inches off the ground and Nanami chances a peek inside. It looked curiously smooth and paved from his position, and appeared to have light reflecting inside it, and again, he heard the undeniable sound of a heart beating, like it was trying to urge him to look inside himself.

“This is where we part, sorcerer. I hope we do not meet again.” The shadow bows to him and Nanami returns the gesture, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose as he straightened. 

“Thank you for the guidance. I feel a little less willing to die at this moment.”

“That is reassuring to hear. Your initial attitude had me worried. Now go, there isn’t any time to waste.”

Nanami looks at the bright geometric patch before squaring his shoulders and purposefully stepping forward towards the metallic, reflective light. Y/n’s face burns in his mind as the sound of a heartbeat fills his ears and he walks through the door into what lay beyond. 

Once inside, he chances a glance backward and sees the portal sealing off, the briefest glimpse of the shadow creature catching the corner of his eye before it closes into a smooth surface of reflective glass. The dimension is plunged into silence, deafening and slightly unsettling. The blond sorcerer moves forward, taking in his new surroundings, astonished by what he saw.

His Trial was a smooth, long, corridor that appeared to be made of endless panels of mirrors from top to bottom. His shoes clicked on the polished glass as he moved forward. What was he supposed to do? Unlike the Trials that had been described to him, there was nothing here that needed his care or nurturing. He appeared to be alone, with nothing but his reflection for company. He ventures a few steps forward, thinking.

“The scenarios described to me said I needed to take care of whatever I found here,” he mused out loud, continuing to walk, randomly looking up, down, and to the sides where his glass image followed suit. “But I don’t see anything here. Wait, don’t tell me…” he almost laughs aloud, Y/n’s chief complaint echoing in his head. “Is the person I have to take care of myself?” he asks the mirror dimension. 

Immediately, the panel of mirrors on his left changed. While the ceiling, floor, and right wall retained his reflection, the left began to show swirls of color and distorted shapes. Fascinated, Nanami steps closer to the one nearest to him and peers into the glass. The abstract splotches instantly form a crisp image, playing like a scene from a movie and Nanami is astonished at what it shows him. A young boy with a tuft of messy blond hair ran towards a lake in happy abandon, water wings around his thin arms as he splashed in. Nanami’s gut twists as he remembers this day. The day so long ago, when he had learned that things such as curses really did exist, that they were not imaginary misfortunes cast by witches onto unsuspecting people like his storybooks had said. 

He watched his younger self floating at the surface of the water, his family a short distance away as they set up lunch on a picnic table. One of his cousins joins him shortly, giving chase as he lets out a peal of laughter and tries to kick away from him. Knowing what was going to happen, Nanami watched his younger self helplessly as he swam towards the middle of the lake, a brave 6-year-old unaware of the darker things that lurked in places that held negative emotions.

Unbeknownst to his family at the time, a girl had drowned there that past summer, something that Nanami had unearthed years later after this incident had occurred. His younger self now reached the middle of the lake and was suddenly lost, dragged under by an invisible force. The little boy blinks in shock, then opens his mouth and lets out a muffled scream as he sees the ugly curse that had caught hold of his foot. It grins, showing off too many teeth as he struggles, its pale green skin glimmering grotesquely under the watery light before he manages to kick the curse with his foot, swimming to the surface, coughing and spluttering, desperately trying to make his way back to land. His cousin looks at him in confusion as he swims in the opposite direction. 

“Get out of the water! Get out!” The shrill screams echoed off the lake as he finally made it to the edge and hauled himself out, laying on the grass shivering. He watches in panic as his cousin stays where he is, treading water and not making any attempts to come back. His father sprints over to check on the situation looking alarmed.

“Kento, what’s going on?”

“There’s something in the water! Tell aniki to get out!” Younger Nanami practically yells, trying to put distance between himself and the lake. His cousin shrugs, then takes a breath and goes underwater. When he resurfaces, he shakes his head. 

“There’s nothing in here! Kento did you see a huge catfish or something and freak out?” he taunts, a smirk appearing on his face. The blond boy shakes his head no vigorously. 

“There’s something there! I swear!”

“You’re just making things up! If you’re too scared, then stay there, I wanna swim.”

Nanami watches his younger self shrink, drawing his knees up to his chest in terror, watching his cousin swim fearlessly in the water. However, nothing happens. Several minutes pass by before his cousin finally comes back out, hair dripping. “Fraidy cat,” he shoots at him before joining the others at the picnic table. Younger Nanami walks to the table too, determined to get his point across.

“There really was something there!” 

His mother reaches out to pat his head. “It may have been a large fish Kento. It’s ok to admit it startled you,” she says emphatically, and the younger boy’s expression drops. Adult Nanami felt it inside his chest, that feeling of knowing they didn’t believe him, and that it was the beginning of almost a decade of them convinced he was a liar, saying things for attention. Younger Nanami becomes quiet after that, sitting in defeat at the table, the fresh barbeque and corn on the cob tasteless in his mouth. 

What was he supposed to learn from this? Adult Nanami pulls away from the mirror, feeling his heart tighten, feeling sad for the little boy sitting so dejectedly at the table. He takes a deep breath, knowing this was the moment he started to not trust his family, his parents, with any of the things he saw. The curses only worsened from there, almost like because he had seen one, all of them suddenly felt comfortable revealing themselves to him. His chest felt heavy with the grief filling him. The shadow had said to take the lesson from the memory and move on.

He leans against the opposite panel of mirrors, trying to get his feelings into check. Regrets from that day…he regretted scaring his family. He regretted being able to see that curse in the water. He regretted finding out he was different from everyone else that day. And how were these regrets supposed to become reasons to live? He racks his brain. He tried to warn his cousin about the unseen danger. That shaped him into becoming the responsible one in any situation. He had to be aware of what the others couldn’t see. It made him protective. It made him want his students to have a better childhood than he did. Was that it? Him turning into a guardian for everyone around him was a reason to live?

And just like that as the thought came into his head, the mirror began to frost at the edges, becoming more and more opaque as it covered the length of the panel before the memory became fully obscured, no longer visible to his eyes. 

Nanami swallows, still slightly unsettled by what he saw. It had been one thing to experience that as a child, but watching it as an adult, seeing how the people who were supposed to be looking after him brushed away his fears like they were nothing, hurt, even now. Part of him wanted to hug his younger self, to tell him he had become someone that everyone depended on, that someone wished for him to stay alive so hard that she put a neutralizing charm on him and saved his life. 

Was this how the rest of his Trial would be? If the first memory it showed him was this one, Nanami knew it would only get worse from here. His being felt painfully raw after seeing that childhood recollection, and he was unsure if he wanted to see more of that. The events that occurred at Jujutsu High when he was a teenager were unavoidable; he had been prepared for those to crop up based on the conversation he’d had with the shadow, but to see himself defenseless, as a child, with no one on his side was already breaking down his psyche. 

As he gathered his will to push on, he recalled the shadow saying this Trial was so he could face his deepest regrets. Deepest, not every. Could he have possibly found a way to get out of here faster? Nanami knew he had regrets that ran deeper than the day at the lake. If he approached each mirror, he would know which regret it was showing him. What if he could skip over the ones that weren’t as bad and only get to the ones that had really impacted him?

Motivated by the idea, he peeks into the next mirror panel, the colors and shapes coming into focus and he sees himself at 11, seated on the sofa with his parents, his dad looking stern, his mother exasperated. Recalling this event, Nanami quickly walks away from the mirror to the next one. Dealing with his regrets should not involve also dealing with his emotional trauma. That was too much. 

He stands in front of the next mirror and waits for the memory to come into focus. However, to his dismay, the colors remain as jumbled objects colliding with each other, refusing to coalesce. Hoping this was just a coincidence, he moves to the next one and is met with the same view, abstract movements, and blurs of action, refusing to show themselves to him. 

A regret is a regret, no matter how big, perhaps. Or maybe, the mirror dimension had determined what his deepest regrets already were, and he would have to face whatever it threw at him. 

With a sigh of defeat, Nanami turns back and goes to the mirror he was hoping to avoid. His heart was racing at the thought of reliving that day, but he was left with no choice. Once directly opposite to it, he braces himself for the memory. 

“Kento, this cannot go on any further. Your mother and I…we’re at a loss about what to do.”

“I’m sorry otosan.” His 11-year-old self keeps his gaze trained downwards, observing his legs that were swinging off the edge of the sofa. “But I mean it, it was there, trying to hurt my classmate.”

“Kento.” His mother leans towards him. “I am not sure what to believe anymore. These…incidents. These…stories. They’re becoming a more frequent occurrence. The doctors are baffled.”

Nanami’s dad, a man resembling him now in terms of height and build, tsks and shakes his head. “They’ve suggested medications, talking to a therapist-”

“The therapist wasn’t helping. They never believed anything I said.” The small boy appears to shrink a few inches in between his parents, his little fingers now fidgeting with each other as he speaks his words. 

“Kento, the problem is, we’re having difficulty believing you as well.” His mother looks like she’s about to cry and it fills his younger self with guilt, that he’s making her this way over him. “The doctors believe you have schizophrenia. It would explain you seeing things that aren’t there-”

“But they are there,” little Nanami insists desperately, looking at his parents with tears in his eyes. “They’re there, but it feels like I’m the only person that can see them.” He sees the look his parents exchange and feels like his worst fear is being confirmed; that his parents thought he was going crazy.

Adult Nanami steps away from the mirror, feeling sweat on his forehead. He feels his heart hammering in his chest and he slides down the smooth glass onto the floor trying to not fall apart. It was behind him. He had put this all behind him. He had vowed to never remember any of this ever again. It was why his will stated all his possessions should be donated to charity. He didn’t have a family. Had no one checking in on him. No one to visit during the holidays, save the other staff from the school. 

Jujutsu High had been both a blessing and a curse. But Nanami hadn’t felt like he was part of a family in decades. Hadn’t allowed himself to want that simple wish because it hurt too much. The aum charm swings against his leg, a pendulum reminding him of the limited time he has left. He realizes the day spent at the amusement park had been the first time in his adult life that he had allowed himself to indulge in that little fantasy. That the little group he had trained had somehow become his family of misfits. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he wanted that to become a reality. That he wanted to belong.

Taking deep calming breaths, he gets to his feet, not totally prepared to face the memory again but is astonished to see the mirror has already frosted up, the memory blocked and gone. Admitting he wanted a family…another lesson learned. 

Unsteadily, Nanami moves on, hoping the next memory isn’t as brutal as the first two.  

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[bleedingoptimism]

Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.

But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.

He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…

But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 

They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.

The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.

‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’

‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.

“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  

“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.

“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 

“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 

“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.

But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 

Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”

Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.

But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.

Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,

“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”

Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.

And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.

Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.

Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.

He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.

Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”

He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,

“Hey,”

“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.

‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.

“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 

“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.

Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.

🧸

A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 

Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.

Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.

He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 

He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.

And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.

However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.

But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 

All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.

The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’

Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.

“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.

‘Yes’

“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.

“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 

They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 

“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.

Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.

God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.

Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.

But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.

After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.

Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”

Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.

“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.

He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.

“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”

Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”

Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.

He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’

Fuck Tommy.

He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.

☝️first part

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[anachronistic-falsehood]

Vash and Femininity: Trigun Stampede and its Themes of Bodily Autonomy, Exploitation, and Vague Gender Fuckery

alright sit the fuck down. we're gonna talk about THEMES

I was on Twitter- terrible idea usually, but a couple people I follow made some tweets that got me thinking about Trigun's overall themes, and here we are. So let's talk about some themes in Tristamp! And I'll take a couple looks at Trimax as well, just for fun :3

Let's look at how the showrunners utilize gender roles and exploitation of feminine characters to show how unhealthy Knives' obsession with his ideal of Vash is, and how horrific his exploitation of Vash and the Plants is.

Vash, from the beginning of Tristamp, is someone who cares about people's choices. When people kill others in front of him, he reiterates that whether someone lives or dies is not another person's choice to make. This is something he learned from Rem (a prominent female figure in his life). He refuses to kill people because that is not his choice to make. To kill someone is the ultimate removal of their bodily autonomy. They can no longer make any choices at all; they're dead.

Vash is also someone who has almost no choice in what path his life takes. He's constantly dragged around by outside forces, namely situations that are caused by Knives (which we'll get into later). Vash doesn't make things happen, things happen to Vash. The majority of events that occur are not his fault. He's pushed and pulled in a thousand different directions. His entire life is completely out of his control.

This can be seen as early on in his life as the Fall, something he had no control over and had no idea he even had a part in. Even later, in the ship with Luida and Brad, after he's been rescued from the desert, he's kept in handcuffs right up until he's shown to be of use to them and the Plant on their ship. After that, he could theoretically say "no, I don't want to go to other ships and heal their plants," but he doesn't. He's Vash. He's helpful and nurturing at his core, and these people have done so much for him just by letting him stay, so he'll do whatever they ask, no question.

This carries over into his adulthood. At Jeneora Rock, he goes to look at their Plant at one simple request, doesn't protest when he's dragged into a duel-- he doesn't take initiative unless someone's life is immediately at stake. He lets people tell him what to do and lets himself get dragged around by the wrist. He doesn't even pretend to have control over his life like Trimax Vash does, which I mean. Fair. Why pretend to have a grip on your existence when it's impossible to do anything without a gun pointed at your head?

Vash is a very passive character. He's nurturing, kind, gentle- he's a guy that fits a lot of very typical feminine character stereotypes. If you wrote this same story but made him a woman, I wouldn't bat an eye (but I would definitely be looking at it a lot more critically, what with the amount of stereotypically nurturing/motherly female characters in media already.)

This contrasts directly with Knives. He makes a decision and carries through no matter what stands in his way. He takes initiative. If Vash is a passive character, Knives is an active character. Wherever he goes, he leaves a lasting imprint. He makes shit happen! If outside forces make things happen to him, he'll go out of his way to make sure that particular force doesn't affect him again.

These two tweets I saw are what got me thinking about this originally. I just feel like here's a good place to put them as a segue into talking about episode 11.

Episode 11 is where a lot of this feminine imagery really just. Explodes in your face. IT'S RIGHT THERE. You can't dance around it if you try. And it kind of reaches a peak when the connection reaches 100%, the gate opens, and. well. THIS happens to the Plants.

Plants, in both Trimax and Tristamp, are almost always typically feminine-looking. Knives and Vash are the only two who are male or even masculine at all. Knives, as the most masculine out of all of them, is the one trying to take charge, and mould the world as he sees fit, to a degree that is detrimental to both him and everyone else. And Vash-- passive, feminine, kind and nurturing, whose Angel Arm in the manga always sprouts decidedly feminine-looking Plant parts-- is the one being exploited for Knives' plans. It's no mistake that they made the giant plant formation at the end of ep 11 look like a giant woman that almost resembles Rem.

Vash wants people to make their own choices and keep their autonomy when it comes to their bodies and lives. Knives is the exact opposite. He wants all Plants to become independent and he uses Vash to achieve that goal, without asking what Vash wants or even knowing what the Plants themselves would prefer. He exploits Vash for the soul purpose of trying to make these Plants have Independent Plant babies. He's completely incapable of seeing that his choices are not for the greater good! He thinks he's saving them, but none of his actions are for the good of anyone but himself. He’s just violating them for his own gain.

They're really leaning into gender roles for these guys, but in a way that screams "HEY, LOOK AT THIS! ISN'T IT FUCKED UP? LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP THAT IS. LOOK AT THIS, AND BE UNCOMFORTABLE, AND KNOW THAT IT IS FUCKED UP."

Because it is! It's so extremely fucked up. They're using this imagery and these roles, something that makes most of us intrinsically uncomfortable, to drive home how unhealthy Knives relationship with his ideal of Vash is. That's the point. We're supposed to be uncomfortable with this.

Now of course there's some nuance to it. Like, you could see Knives as somewhat of a feminine and/or queer-coded figure as well, ESPECIALLY if you look at some of his panels in the manga, which could in turn lead to themes about infighting and control within marginalized communities, but that might be something for another post. :3

And there's definitely different ways you could take this! Vash, with all this feminine imagery, could be either transfem or transmasc coded, depending on what way you'd rather see it, which could lead into themes of how people outside the norm constantly face a lack of bodily autonomy and are exploited for purposes outside their boundaries. We could also look at Wolfwood and his lack of choice over joining the Eye of Michael and becoming the Punisher, and how masculine men (particularly men of colour) are often forced into violent roles against their will. If we look at Trimax, the exact same could be said for Livio/Razlo and people with disorders such as DID/OSDD.

There are many different ways you could spin these themes, some of which I don't feel personally qualified to discuss. If anyone who is qualified to talk about Wolfwood or Livio/Razlo or even other characters related to these themes, then god PLEASE add onto this post or make a post and tag me or something. I would love to read it!

Anyway, in conclusion: Vash is a feminine figure constantly taken advantage of and exploited and and he's so incredibly trans/nonbinary-coded that it drives me insane. Thank you

[henry7931]

I Don’t Want To Go Back

Bradley:

I’m sitting in the doctor’s office and I feel butterflies in my stomach. All I can is look down at my legs and feet— well I guess Luke’s legs and feet. They are his in the first place but I now control them.

I’m waiting on a response from the doctor who’s helping my big brother Luke and I with our situation. He’s with Luke right now in the other room who’s in my body.

From what I can understand, one of us gave the other some kind of sick that caused everything. All I know is that, one night I went to bed as me and the next morning I woke up as Luke.

That night, Luke was doing his workout when I walked in to his room. I was trying to ask him if he could help me out something.

“What do you want twerp? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Suh—sorry Luke! I just wanted to get some help with—”

Before I could even ask him anything he got all angry with me and pushed me out of his room.

Then the next morning happened…

I remember waking up and feeling strange, but it wasn’t until I sat up and saw Luke’s big feet and hairy legs that I knew I wasn’t myself.

The next thing I noticed was Luke’s morning wood, i learned quickly that morning that he does not go to bed in PJs.

I looked down at the hard wiener amazed by its size, I touched it and it sent sparks through me.

It took me a second to fully focus but I eventually got up and went to the bathroom.

That’s where I realized that I am now my brother Luke. 

Seeing Luke’s reflection in the mirror made me feel nervous and excited. I had so many questions.

But then I felt something for the first time, confident! I feel so confident in this body.

I stood in front of that mirror for awhile until I heard a loud voice hollering.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!”

I peak out of the bathroom door and saw my body rushing down the hallway angry.

But the second we made eye contact, he froze in one spot.

“Bradley… is that… are you me?,” he said to me.

“Yeah it’s me, are you Luke?” I asked him back.

I thought he was going to be nice to me for a second but nope!

Like charged down the hall and almost like he was going to lunge for me. Before he could get to the door, I quickly shut it which caused him to crash into it.

A locked the door, scared of what he was going to do. Then I remembered something, I’m the one with all of the strength now! I opened up the door and Luke was on the ground still trying to get back up.

“You little shit! You did this! I don’t know how but you did this!” he said to me.

All of the sudden, my dad came out of his room.

“Boys! What’s going on here?”

“Your son over here took my body!” said Luke.

“I didn’t take it Luke! I promise!! I’m just as confused as you,” I said crossing my now bigger arms.

“Can someone clue me in on what’s going on? And Luke can you please get some clothes on!”said my dad.

We sat down with him after I put on a pair of pants and explained what happened that morning.

He didn’t believe us at first but after a call with a speciality doctor, my dad’s eyes got wide and then he hung up.

“Boys, I’ve some good news and bad news.”

“What’s the good news?” said Luke.

“Well this is a rare situation to happen but you’re not the first ones ever. And you’re both physically fine other than uh… well.”

“Come on dad! What did they say? Are we stuck like this?”

“Well they want to run some test but that won’t happen until next week.”

“NEXT WEEK?!? BUT I GO ON MY BEACH TRIP NEXT WEEK!!”

“I’m sorry but you have to cancel Luke!”

“Fuuuuuuckkk this! I’m going upstairs!”

Luke stormed away from the table while I stayed back.

“Sorry bud that’s he’s so upset, you know it’s not directed at you right?”

“I guess so,” I said back.

“Do me a favor for right now, just stay clear of him for right now.”

“I promise I will!”

The next few days changed me a lot. It started out with Luke and I having to switch out all of our stuff. My dad wanted us to at least pretend to be each other for the time being so I got Luke’s room, clothes, even his cellphone (which made him the most mad).

I even learned a lot as well. Like how to work out, what being a 19 year old is like, my dad’s started to teach how to drive.

But what I find interesting is all of the things i like about my new self.

Like my new feet! I love the way they look, my dirty socks, the way they smell after a long workout— it makes me so hard!

I’ll take pictures of them and even put my face into them after a long day!

I also love my muscles! I feel so powerful with them!! Even my friends are into them.

Well once again, technically Luke’s friends. Specifically Seth, who I talk to everyday. We go back and forth sending pictures of ourselves. I think he likes me, a lot! I like him too, a lot lol.

He even told me last night.

Texts:

Seth: Dude, I wish you told me how you feel. I would have made a move a long time ago. But if you want to keep this on the DL, I’m cool with that. But as long as we have our fun on the beach trip.

Bradley: We are going to ALOT of fun on the trip I promise!

Seth: Well could you send me a little teaser? Maybe a body pic 😈

Bradley:

Seth: Hot!!🥵

Bradley: Do you like feet?

Seth: …

Seth: If I have to be honest, I’d never tell anyone else this but yes. I do indeed have a foot fetish.

Bradley: I took this one earlier 😎

Seth: Well since you’re showing off 😛

Bradley: You have really nice feet!

Seth: Oh do I? I’ll let you do anything with them on the trip.

Reading that text from Seth made me instantly hard!

I talked to him for a while and this morning but I’m so nervous to find out what’s going to happen!

Are they going to give me something that will put Luke and I back in our bodies? I can’t go to my body, not before I go on my trip with Seth!!

A knock was at the door.

“Bradley, can I come in?”

The doctor came in and I felt like I was about to puke!

“Hey, sorry that took a little bit. Your brother doesn’t seem that happy. How are you with all of this?”

“Me? Oh I’m good, just an adjustment.”

“Well you seem to be taking it better. You know this is very rare. Unfortunately, this is something so new even to us. I wish I could tell you things are going to be back to normal soon but…”

“Wait, are you saying this is forever?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say forever. I guess I’ll just go ahead and say it. This is a lab made disease that somehow got to either you or your brother. We don’t have a cure for it at this moment. So I’d highly advise you, your brother, and your father to try and make this your new normal for the time being.”

“Oh wow! I can’t believe it!”

“So you’re good to go—”

I hopped up and immediately went for the door. As I walk out, I see Luke with his head turned down.

“Hey, you okay?”

“No…”

“Well cheer up! That body isn’t so bad,” I say messing up my former hair.

“ Easy for you to say!”

“I’m sorry Luke but we are gong to have to accept this for now. Sides, I’ll be a good big brother to you. I promise.”

Luke looked up at me and for the first time in a while he had the tiniest smile.

Two Days Later:

“Flex on em Luke,” says Seth as he takes a picture of me.

I walk up to him and say, “You have the bigger muscles why don’t you show them off.”

He grins and says, “I only show them off for you.”

“Hey do you wanna sneak up real quick while none of the other boys notice?”

“I thought you would never ask!”

We run up the stairs and as soon as we’re out of eyesight Seth pulls me in and kisses me.

“Come on inside Luke, I’ll let you play with these piggies,” he says wiggling his toes in my face.

“Can you do that thing you did last night with them?”

“You want another foot job?”

“Yep!”

“Oh boy! You’re lucky you’re so cute!”

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 70

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 6K

TW: Smut

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, March 19th; 10:30 AM - At Lucy's place.

I sigh as I look at my study notes, which have taken over Lucy’s personal space. At least... if I can still call it that. I’ve slowly started filling it with my presence. Ever since I decided to move in after school, I’ve been bringing my stuff. I already brought a large suitcase from home last week, and I plan to do the same on our next trip to Barcelona. I’ll leave a few things there just in case, but most of it will be moved here. I should be resting, but I can’t. I was on the couch with Lucy, trying to start a series, but I didn’t last long. I was bored and felt useless. We’ve been moving around so much lately that I’m not used to staying still anymore. That’s how I ended up in this situation. I haven’t been feeling great lately, I must admit. I’m stressed out because of a few rejections I finally received from galleries. It’s only a small handful, but it’s unsettling. On top of that, I got feedback from Mr. Fields, and it wasn’t good. He’s not going to change his mind about his offer in Cardiff. I’m taking my time to give him an answer, but let’s just say I don’t want to accept it. And of course, our professors decided to schedule their exams for the two weeks before the break... That’s not helping my stress. I was about to start reading a new chapter when the sound of shuffling papers caught my attention. I look up to see Lucy gathering my notes that were scattered across the table.

- "What are you doing?" I asked, perplexed.

- "You’re unbelievable. No matter what I do, you always find something to cling to like a kind of drug when you start to lose control. Well... you know what I mean, right?" she backpedaled after realizing what she’d just said.

I smiled softly, crossing my arms as she continued to pile up my notes in her hands. For a moment, I wondered if she was respecting the order of my chapters or if I’d have to sort them all out later. Those thoughts quickly disappeared when she spoke again.

- "You need to detach yourself from studying, so we’re going out."

- "Really?" I raised an eyebrow.

- "Yes. You’re going to lose your mind if you keep studying this much."

I bit my lip as she held out her hand for me to give her the paper I was holding like my life depended on it.

- "I don’t think-"

- "Oh yes, it’s a great idea," she interrupted me. "Come on."

- "Fine..." I muttered, handing it over. "So, what do you have planned?"

- "We’re going to help the girls at the gym."

- "The gym...? You mean the studio?"

- "Yeah, the gym," she said, putting the stack of papers in my organizer. "I texted Jenni, and it seems they’re in the middle of renovations, so it’s the perfect time to lend a hand."

- "Alright..." I sighed.

I’m far from motivated, but it seems like it’s for a good cause.

- "Who’s there?"

- "Jenni, Aitana, Beth, and Alexia."

- "Alexia?" I repeated in surprise. "She didn’t tell me she was staying."

- "It wasn’t planned. Jenni hosted her last night. Their transport got canceled, apparently."

I raised an eyebrow. I’m really surprised she didn’t tell me, to be honest. Well, we haven’t talked since we parted ways yesterday.

- "What about Alba?"

- "As if I went that far in my questioning," she rolled her eyes. "You can ask her yourself in a few minutes. Go change first. Do you have any old clothes?"

- "Uh, no."

I blushed at the thought. I haven’t brought any of that yet. I prioritized what I wear regularly.

- "Well, I’ll have to find you something."

After getting ready, we were set to leave. I was wearing Lucy’s clothes, and nothing could make me happier. Surprisingly, traffic was light for a Saturday morning. The weather was warming up, finally allowing a few rays of sunshine to appear. Well, it wasn’t Barcelona’s twenty-five degrees, but I wasn’t going to complain. Seeing the outside world was doing me a lot of good, surprisingly. Lucy parked in the same spot as last time. I recognized Jenni’s car near ours. I assumed the other two cars belonged to the friends she had mentioned. I was excited to see them again. I hadn’t seen them since our trip to the Alps.

- "Are you mad at me?" I asked as she opened the rear door of the building for me.

- "Mad at you for what?"

- "For isolating myself whenever things get tough in my life instead of coming to talk to you..."

I turned to see her walking behind me. She met my gaze with a smile plastered on her face.

- "I’d be mad if it wasn’t so obvious, yes. But don’t worry, that’s not the case. I know you, and I know what’s bothering you right now. I’ll never force you to talk, but you know communication is important, and if you ever feel the need to talk, I’m here."

- "Thanks... I think I just need a hug right now."

- "Then I think I’ll offer my arms for that."

I laughed as I melted into her embrace when she opened her arms. In the end, I might be regretting the couch now. I’ll think about it next time. I sighed softly, inhaling her scent. It’s become my favorite. It’s fruity, yet soft, with a hint of coffee. It’s strange, but totally harmonious thanks to her natural body smell.

- « te amo," I murmured against her neck.

- « Te amo también, mi amor."

The doors to the main room creaked open a bit farther down. I didn’t even need to turn around to know, given how loud they were.

- "Ah, I knew I heard some noise!"

I turned around, recognizing Alexia’s voice. She had a huge, toothy smile. At least we could be sure she was happy to see us.

- "I’m so glad you’re here. We needed a bit more muscle around here. Don’t just stand there. We were waiting for you."

We walked over to greet her with a kiss on each cheek. We entered the room, where upbeat music filled the space. We greeted the guys as well, though it was less pleasant since their cheeks were sticky with sweat. It wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t slacked off this morning. They had already started tearing everything apart. The mirrors were dismantled, and the door on the right had been removed, revealing the hallway Lucy mentioned last time. If I remember correctly, the classrooms will be there.

- "Wow. Looks like you’ve made good progress," Lucy commented.

- "Yeah, pretty much," Aitana replied. "Jenni knows how to keep us motivated."

We laughed as she raised the beer she was drinking. A pack was lying in a corner, along with a few empty glass bottles. I wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, but it seemed like they’d been working since early this morning.

- "We didn’t know where to start, so we decided to tackle this area."

- "Yeah, yeah, it’s fine," Lucy said, making the same observation as me. "Have you started on the locker rooms yet?" she asked, glancing in the other direction.

- "No, that’s the next step," her best friend admitted.

- "Alright. Well, I think that’s a priority, along with the break room at the back. The furniture for those two rooms will arrive in a few weeks."

- "Okay, we’ll keep working on that then. We were just waiting for your orders, Commander."

Alexia and I stifled a laugh. It was quickly stopped by her mock-serious glare. Jenni gave us a knowing smile. After all, that nickname was here to stay. It suited her personality. But honestly, we couldn’t deny that we’d all be lost without her. Even now, she was playing the role of project manager.

- "Do you already have plans for how it’ll look?" I asked her.

- "Of course. We worked with an architect. Do you want to see the final design?"

- "Well, yeah!" I feigned offense that she hadn’t shown me yet.

- "Oh, sorry," she teased. "Jenni, where did you put the copies of the plans?"

"Uh, I think upstairs, in the office. We didn’t need them today. »

- Thank you.

- Can I come with you? Ale asks as I grab Lucy's hand.

- Yeah, sure, my girlfriend replies.

We head upstairs. Nothing has been touched here yet. I doubt much needs to be redone. It's a bit old, but it will just need a fresh coat of paint and probably some cleaning too. We stand at the front of the office while Lucy rummages through the drawers one by one.

- Ah, here they are.

She places them in front of us with a triumphant look. I smile, noticing how proud she is of her work. And she should be—it all looks fantastic. The color scheme is navy blue and white, with black aluminum accents like the entryway they plan to install. It gives an industrial vibe, a style I often see and love. At least I won’t worry about our tastes clashing if we ever decide to pick or even build a house together. Despite that, they've still kept the authenticity and charm of the stone walls.

- Do you like it? The plans can still be changed, but we can’t alter the major parts anymore.

She's talking fast, and her expression is a bit tense. Our opinions must matter a lot. I don’t answer right away, lingering over the locker room plans. There will be cabins on one side and showers on the other, with a small private stall for privacy. The idea is well thought out. Of course, there are also toilets. The color theme remains the same, and it looks like the mirrors they removed from the main room will be reused here.

- It’s great, I break the suspense first. What do you think?

- Same here, Ale responds. Honestly, you guys made excellent choices.

I continue examining the plans for the back area, where they plan to refresh the hallway. The toilets won’t be touched, but the break room will be completely redone. Again, the blue stands out, with minimalist furniture and a blue accent wall.

- That must have taken a lot of work, she adds.

- Quite a bit, yeah, but between weekends and my evenings at the dorm, we managed to make it happen.

The final plans are for the rooms reserved for common classes. I also notice a room marked as an office.

- What’s this room for? I ask, pointing to it.

- It’s for personal follow-ups. We thought it would be better to have a room that offers privacy.

- Why not use this office? I ask, gesturing to the one we’re standing in.

- We didn’t want members to have access to the back area. A sign will be put up saying it's staff-only. I don’t think people will linger here, but the idea isn’t to supervise them all the time. Plus, important documents and storage will be kept here.

I nod. It makes sense. At least they won’t have to worry about surveillance. I frown, lingering over the other classroom plans. Oddly enough, they seem very plain—just white walls, which is strange compared to the rest.

- Why won’t the classrooms be decorated?

- Ah, you noticed? I was wondering the same thing, Ale points out.

We both look up at Lucy. My question seems to have amused her.

- To be honest, Jenni and I talked about it for a while. We want you to handle the decor for those rooms.

I’m speechless. Ale gives me a big smile and pats my back in support.

- A-are you serious?

- Yeah! I’ve seen what you did with your room in Barcelona. You’re totally capable of this. I was going to ask you about it—I just hadn’t had the chance yet. These rooms don’t need repairs, just renovation and decoration, so there’s no rush. What do you think? Will you take it on?

- Of course she’ll accept! Ale exclaims. That would be awesome!

I blush, flattered that she thought of me for this task.

- Yeah, sure… I think I can do that if you really want me to. Do you have any ideas already?

- Not really, she admits. We held off so you’d have the freedom to imagine what you want. But we can give you some suggestions if you prefer.

- Honestly, you caught me off guard, I chuckle nervously. We’ll have to talk more about it.

She smiles knowingly, and I think I understand. My little guess was right.

- If it becomes your next obsession, that’s fine with me.

I roll my eyes, laughing. Alexia watches us, not fully understanding the situation but wisely choosing not to intrude, sensing it’s a private conversation between us.

- Well, how about we go help the others? That’s what we’re here for, right?

That’s how we spent the rest of the day, helping our friends. Lucy was right. I needed to see something different, to enjoy life. I was happy to spend time with them. Everything was done in good spirits. The girls were demolishing things while we, the girls, were in charge of loading the van Jenni rented with the old furniture. We made several trips to the nearest dump. It took most of our time because of the traffic, but it was fun. We also went to the mall across the street to restock water and beer since we were running low. It’s really convenient having a building like that so close. I’m sure it’ll attract a lot of people—after all, everyone goes to the mall, so they won’t miss the gym’s sign. One thing’s for sure: we laughed a lot throughout the day. I was finally able to forget about my life for a while. Lucy and Alexia got along so well. I’m even starting to wonder if she might prefer Alexia to Mapi. I guess I’ll never know. It’s not something Lucy would admit, knowing her. By the end of the afternoon, we’d cleared out the break room. Lucy promised the guys we’d come back next week to help with the locker rooms, which are much bigger. In any case, I was happy to be there. At least I knew I’d be doing something other than studying. Our friends suggested we stay for dinner, and we agreed. We ended up at a pizza place nearby. Something tells me we’ll become regulars there. They serve pizzas, but also pasta dishes. Tonight, we all had pizza. Lucy and I ordered two different ones so we could share. They were excellent, but next time I think I’ll try the pasta to see if it’s as good. 

The day came to an end. We said our goodbyes late at night before everyone headed home. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as exhausted when we left as I’d been when we arrived. Lucy seemed to feel the same way.

- We could make cookies, I suggested.

- Cookies? she laughed. Why cookies?

- Well, we’re not tired. Might as well do something productive. We could bring them to the girls tomorrow. They’d love that.

- Wow... why not? But I’m not sure I have everything we need, she said, already checking her cupboards.

- Well, how about a chocolate cake then? You must have some chocolate, right?

Lucy laughed and finally pulled out a bar of dark chocolate.

- Yes, I do. That’s doable.

- Cool! Let’s get to work, then.

I rolled up my sleeves, making Lucy laugh.

- Slow down, master chef. Start by washing your hands.

- You just had to kill my enthusiasm, huh? I said with a playful pout.

- No, I’m teaching you. A good chef knows you always wash your hands before starting, she teased with a wink.

I laughed but followed her advice. After everything we did today, it wasn’t exactly sanitary to start cooking without cleaning up first.

- Maybe we should shower before starting, huh? We’ve been sweating all day.

- No, I’d lose my motivation, I admitted.

- True, you’re right. Alright, let’s get to work.

After washing her hands too, she pulled out a cookbook. I had to admit, I’d never made a chocolate cake before. I felt a little embarrassed because it’s such a basic thing.

- So, I’ll read the ingredients, and you get them out.

- Maybe it makes more sense to do it the other way around, right? Since you know where everything is.

- Alright, if you say so, she teased.

I list the ingredients for her, and she places them on the countertop. It's time to begin. She preheats the oven, and then we get to work. Everything is done with a cheerful mood. Nothing is too serious. She has me follow the recipe, pouring the ingredients into a bowl, while she takes care of melting the butter and chocolate over a bain-marie.

"Why don't you just use the microwave, since you have one?" I teased.

"I prefer doing it this way. It's how I was taught. It's supposed to be better. Plus, no microwaves involved."

"Hmm... if you say so."

I dip my finger into the melted mixture and bring it to my mouth once everything has melted, abandoning my bowl that's been ready for a while.

"Hey, don’t touch that."

"We could totally eat this as is too."

"Unless you want a stomachache, sure, we can," she teased.

I pouted to show my dissatisfaction.

"My grandmother used to forbid me from eating the batter like that, but she always let me lick the bowl at the end," I shared.

"Well, you can lick the bowl too if you want," she laughed. "Alright, all that's left is to mix everything together. Do you want to handle it?"

"Can you do it? I never managed to do it right when I was a kid."

"You've grown up since then, you know?" she teased. "Come on, you'll do it."

She tugged on the sleeve of my sweater to pull me in front of her. I frowned but took the whisk and mixed our two bowls together. Lucy finished up when she noticed my movements were slowing down. Smiling playfully, I dabbed my finger in the mix and smeared it on her face. Lucy gasped in surprise.

"You dared!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I moved closer to lick her cheek, trying to erase the evidence. Lucy backed away immediately, but it was too late—I had already cleaned it up. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

"Oh, so you want to play, huh?"

She dipped her fingers into the batter, and I laughed as she pinned me against the counter before I could escape. She slowly dragged her fingers from my forehead to my chin, smearing the rest down my neck.

"Come on, that’s over the top," I giggled.

"What? I’m just going to clean it up like you did," she said mischievously.

I tried to wriggle out of her grip, but it was a lost cause. She was holding me too tightly, her body fully pressed against mine. There was no way out.

"It's my turn to get even," she whispered before kissing my forehead.

I kept laughing as she continued her "clean-up" down my nose. I had stopped resisting. I was the one who had started the playful mess, so I wasn't going to stop her. Things got more intense when she reached my lips. She lingered particularly long where the last bit of chocolate had been. We kissed, devouring each other’s mouths, before she moved down to my chin. Our eyes locked with heavy intensity. A warmth stirred deep in my stomach. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at me with such desire. I bit my lip as she moved even lower after finishing with my chin. She ended up at my neck, and I realized why she had smeared so much chocolate there. 

Breathing shallowly, I closed my eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing. I gripped the counter behind me to keep my balance. She alternated between using her tongue, sucking, and giving soft kisses. A moan escaped my lips, and I immediately covered my mouth with my hand. I realized she had just bitten the edge of my collarbone. She lifted her head to meet my eyes again. The knot in my stomach tightened even more. There was a delicious tension in the air. She wanted me—it was clear from her eyes. We stayed in that position for a moment, neither of us breaking the silence that was filled with meaning. It was now or never. She was waiting for me to react, but I didn’t know what to do. Inside, I was panicking, but I wanted this. I could feel it in every part of me. When she started to pull back, I couldn’t let it end like that. I grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her passionately. I needed her. My move surprised her, and she leaned into me with her full weight. We were dangerously close to breaking apart. We devoured each other with our eyes, silently asking what was next.

“I want this,” I whispered. “Please.”

I was grateful she hadn’t asked the question first. I preferred making the choice myself. She appreciated my response, as I could tell by the low growl that escaped her throat.

“Are you sure…?” she asked.

I nodded as I returned to her lips. I could feel her smile as my arms wrapped around her neck, pulling her closer. I heard her chuckle when she suddenly lifted me off the ground. Her lips didn’t give me time to cry out.

“It’s all for you tonight, Princess,” she whispered, attacking my neck again.

Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around her waist and tilted my head to the side. I never knew where she got her strength from, but I wasn’t surprised anymore. She paused for a moment at the edge of the kitchen, and I realized she was turning off the oven. Then, expertly, she returned to my neck as we headed down the hallway. I didn’t even notice what was happening around us before I was pinned against the wall of our bedroom. That thought alone heightened my excitement. Lucy’s hips ground against my most sensitive spot, and if I wasn’t sure before, I could now feel the dampness there. I would have loved for her to come back to my lips to muffle the sounds I could barely contain. Lucy must have noticed because she stopped her sweet torture on my neck, which was probably well-marked by now. She knew it was one of my weak points. Her warm breath sent shivers down my body. She nibbled on my earlobe before whispering:

“Don’t hold back your pleasure, baby,” she murmured. “I want to hear you. I need to know how you’re feeling.”

After her words, she hit just the right spot, and I couldn’t hold back the sound that escaped my lips. Damn.

"That's much better," she teased with a playful smile. "No more holding back, okay?"

I squeaked as she continued to tease between my legs with her hips, punishing me with waves of pleasure, eliciting more moans. Unable to form words, I nodded to show I understood. She didn’t give me a chance to react or even think about it—probably for the best. She kissed me again, more softly this time, as she carried me to our bed. My heart raced as her hands wandered under my sweater. I lifted my arms to help her remove the barrier that seemed to be bothering her. Her lips wanted to return to my now burning body, but I held her back for a moment.

“I-I want to see you too, please.”

My voice was fragile, pleading in the moment. Lucy laughed softly but nodded. For the first time, she gave me a bit of space, sitting up on top of me.

"You don’t have to ask, you know. You just need to undress me..."

I smiled timidly and pulled off her sweater, tossing it somewhere in the room.

"You don’t really give me the time," I teased her.

She laughed, and to my surprise, she quickly removed her bra, letting it join the pile of clothes. I was mesmerized by the sight before me. Lucy was a stunning woman. I still wondered what I had done to deserve her...

"Is this better?" she murmured.

I nodded, bringing my gaze back to hers. I blushed, knowing she had caught me staring.

"Go ahead," she whispered. "Don’t be shy. Everything is yours, my love."

With a touch of shyness, I brought my hand to her left breast. She shivered slightly at the contact. I noticed her watching me with a small smile. I lingered on her perfect chest. It wasn’t too large or too small. As soon as my finger grazed her nipple, it hardened instantly, a clear sign that her excitement matched mine. I finally looked back up into her eyes, and she nodded, giving me silent permission. I gently cupped her breast, caressing it more fully. I had been waiting for this moment for so long. It fit perfectly in my palm. I took my time. I wanted to explore every inch of her body. I rolled us over so that I was on top. With my occupied hand, I continued to caress her more confidently. My other hand supported me as I leaned down to focus on her other breast with my mouth. I kissed every part I could, even letting my tongue trail over certain spots. My excitement was building fast, and it seemed Lucy’s was too, given how she squirmed beneath me. I gained confidence as she didn’t hold back her sounds. The most intense moment came when I sucked her nipple hard. I wanted to take my time, to savor the moment, but that clearly wasn’t in her plans. Her hands quickly found their way to my back. The need to feel her bare skin against mine prompted me to let her undress me too. I gasped when she suddenly flipped us over, letting our chests press against each other for the first time after she had removed my last piece of clothing from the top.

- I said it was for you tonight. I intend to keep my promise.

- Bab-

I don’t have time to protest before she returns to my lips, my neck, and finally my chest. She kisses me everywhere, her tongue joining the dance from the start. I close my eyes to savor the sensation I had almost forgotten. With Feli, everything was quick. She didn’t linger on foreplay, preferring to get straight to the point. Experiencing such tenderness again brings tears to my eyes. Lucy, unaware of my tears, continues her torment, alternating between each breast with her hand or her mouth. She’s everywhere, for my perfect pleasure. It’s when she moves back up towards me that she notices my state.

- Hey, what’s wrong? We can stop if it’s too much for you.

- N-no, don’t... D-don’t stop, p-please.

Despite myself, tears come in streams. I didn’t want to ruin this moment. Not in any way. Lucy slides her fingers under my eyelids, as she has become accustomed to doing.

- D-don’t stop, please, I beg her.

She kisses me tenderly. This gesture calms me a bit. I return her sweet kisses, adding more passion to the next ones. She reignites the flame with her hands continuing to caress my chest.

- It’s going to be okay, she whispers. Tell me what I should do. Or show me if you prefer.

I nod and try to stop my tears once and for all. She still wants me, even with my disheveled mind and the tears that must have affected my appearance. My heart burns as much as my body. I linger my hands on her jeans, struggling with her belt with my trembling hands. I want to go faster, and Lucy chuckles at my sudden impatience.

- Okay, wait. Slow down.

She lifts herself to help me undress her. We soon find ourselves both in just our underwear, warm as embers after multiple caresses and kisses. Everything is soft. Lucy returns to my chest, now as marked by her as my neck. Her body fits perfectly with mine, moving slowly, making sure our thighs touch each other. I press against her from time to time, without realizing it. She was heating me up, and my desire quickly becomes too powerful and uncontrollable. Then comes the moment I was most apprehensive about. She starts to move down, but by reflex, I pull her back towards me.

- Relax, darling. Trust me.

I let her go with those simple words after a final exchanged kiss. She kisses my stomach first to tease me, though I was already at my limit. To make things difficult, I don’t make it easy for her. I squirm, though I have to keep my stomach contracted the entire time. I recognize some places where she lingers. They are where my scars are. I also flinch when she playfully nibbles. Then, she stops when she reaches my last piece of underwear. Surprisingly, she doesn’t remove it. She prefers to go lower, starting again from my knee. It’s too much. It tickles, as I am sensitive there. I try to close my thighs together, but Lucy holds them open with a laugh.

- Stop torturing me, I reply in a short breath.

- Come on, baby. You won’t escape this, she teases, continuing her trail of kisses. I want to kiss every part of your body.

I moan as she continues inside my thighs. Damn. I can’t resist much longer.

- P-promise me you’ll come back up after, I beg. I want you with me.

I don’t want to be the only one having pleasure tonight. I don’t know what she had planned, but I want us to come together for our first time.

- Alright, she murmurs against my warm skin. I promise.

She continues her path gradually, passing over my legs. I don’t remember being this sensitive here. I can’t stay still. Lucy keeps me pinned down with one hand on my stomach and the other on my thigh. I can’t close them or escape. She understands that she needs to hold them firmly to achieve her goal. A goal she eventually reaches. I don’t even dare to look down. All I know is that my panties must be quite wet in her eyes. I feel the coolness as Lucy breathes on it to tease me.

- Look at me.

I do so with difficulty. Seeing her at my center, holding my legs, makes my stomach churn. I’m struggling to realize that this is happening. The woman who, a few months ago, was tormenting me with training sessions to bring me down to earth, is now between my legs. I don’t protest when she pulls on the waistband of my black lace thong. I don’t know what possessed me to wear it this morning, but I’m thankful now. She does it gently to give me time to push her away if needed, but I don’t. Especially not in my state. I want her. Now. Still, she takes wicked pleasure in driving me crazy like she did a few minutes ago with her kisses.

- Luce, I complain.

- Oh, are you impatient now?

I move my hips as she has long since removed my last barrier. She gazes at me, and I blush. I thought I would feel vulnerable when this happened, but the way she looks at me makes me melt. With a smile, she teases my clitoris with her finger.

- I should make you beg.

- Y-you wouldn’t dare!

- And why not?

She plays with me and even dares to laugh. I plan to get my revenge when it’s her turn. As if she could read my thoughts, she dives right into my center to kiss it. I can still feel her smile. Just from the contact, I moan loudly. Her tongue takes over before she sucks on my sensitive skin. I cry out, propping myself up on my elbows at the sensation.

- Oh, fuck!

I can feel Lucy’s smile again. She doesn’t say anything, just pulls me down with her arm. I let myself fall back, closing my eyes. The sensation is exquisite. I had forgotten what it felt like to experience such pleasure. Her tongue explores every inch of my little garden, eliciting more than one moan or cry of pleasure. I cling to the sheets as best I can to avoid pulling her hair. If she had been at my level, her back would be covered in scratches. She mixes it with some sucking before going even lower. It’s the last straw. My moans fill the room, and I quickly grab her hair. I no longer know if I want to restrain her or pull her away. My head isn’t in the game anymore, and Lucy takes wicked pleasure in building the pressure in my stomach. I’ve never felt such pleasure before. When I reach my peak, I pull her hair. She quickly understands the message, finishing the moment with a final little kiss before coming back up. The absence of her mouth is already replaced by her hand. My own can now scratch her back. With my other hand, I quickly venture under her completely wet underwear. A short breath escapes her. It’s my turn to leave her with no opportunity. I take her lips, covered in my moisture. We caress each other while kissing. When she inserts a finger into me, I have to break the connection.

- O-oh my God.

I contract around her finger, no longer used to such presence. Lucy, who had started moving, stops immediately.

- Are you okay? she murmurs with concern.

- Y-yes! Don’t stop.

Understanding the meaning of my positive reaction, she waits for me to relax before adding a second finger. She doesn’t give me time to think and starts a gentle rhythm. I’m tense at first, but pleasure soon takes over as she speeds up. I realize I’ve fallen behind on my end. I have to concentrate fully to reciprocate. It’s intense. We are making love. The room echoes with our sounds. Lucy manages to find my lips to seal them together one last time. I struggle to return the kiss. My focus is much lower. Especially as our last acceleration takes its toll on us. We scream one final time in unison when we climax. I’m overwhelmed by her intensity. My teeth sink into Lucy’s shoulder, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. She’s in the same state as me, against my neck. The room eventually quiets down, with only our ragged breathing filling the space. It took us both a moment to recover. She’s the first to remove her fingers before I do. I’m exhausted, and my eyelids have become heavy. Still, I remain awake. Lucy kisses me one last time before getting up. I watch her carefully as she removes her underwear that had stayed on until the end. It must be quite a mess now. She pulls back the covers, and with a tremendous effort, I slip underneath. She immediately joins me, wrapping her arms around me. I smile, realizing what just happened.

- I love you, I murmur.

- I love you even more, she whispers, kissing my temple. Have sweet dreams, my love.

Under her words, I finally let myself drift off to sleep.

[ennn]

Hello :) I really enjoy reading your analysis on AAA!

What conversations do you think Agatha and Rio had between “because the truth is too awful “ and “what Billy wants is a violation”?

The shift between topics was so abrupt. What would they talk about to make Agatha want to make a deal to never see Rio again?

Hello Anon! Thank you for reading 💚 Okay so I think there's 2 parts to your question here, which is (a) why the change in topics between the conversation and (b) how it leads up to Agatha's deal.

Let's take a step back a bit. If we look at the first conversation, it already starts out about the Problem of Billy right?

And the whole Billy issue only exists in the context of what happened with Nicky. If Nicky had never been a thing, Agatha and Rio and their dynamic would be entirely different. Nicky was the breaking point of their relationship – a relationship with love and lust but also wrapped up in their opposing natures.

The conversation quickly escalates, shifting from Billy to their history and relationship. Rio, direct as ever, airs what must be a long-long-simmering grievance:

Rio: No one in history has had special treatment like you. Agatha: You call what you did "special treatment"? You gave me nothing. You took. Rio: And that's usually your move right.

Now the anger and frustration is starting to boil and Agatha tries to push past and get away from Rio – but Rio stops her and tries to deescalate this argument.

In other words – and to address your ask – the topic shifts because Rio is trying to have a conversation and not fight. Rio knows that Nicky is Agatha's deepest scar, and Agatha is a runner when she doesn't have control.

You can see Rio taking a second, watching Agatha, her tone softening as she asks the question:

Why do you let them believe those things about you, hm? About Nicky?

I think Rio tries to deescalate because she does need Agatha's help with the Billy situation: she can't kill him or reap his soul on her own. It's not a thing Rio is happy about or wants but she's got a job to do.

BUT in this show things are usually complicated: more than one thing can be true at the same time: I think Rio also cares about Agatha and wants to understand why.

After all it was Rio who told the group in episode 5 that Agatha killed her original coven because they tried killing her first. Agatha doesn't bother defending herself, if anything she plays up being this villain.

I mean, Rio loves this serial killer right. It's not the murder part of Agatha's reputation Rio cares about. Rio also has the unique insight of knowing exactly what happened to Nicky. This rumour that Agatha doesn't do anything to discourage seems to not only be an insult to Agatha but the memory of Nicky.

And then in a rare moment of vulnerability, Agatha decides to reveal her truth to Rio.

Because the truth is too awful

I read this moment as Rio trying to reach out and Agatha deciding to give an honest answer. Which again, is a precious rare thing coming from her.

I don’t think any transitional dialogue from this to the other conversation is really important, not as much as the emotional place this first conversation ends with, which allows for the second one about a potential collaboration to happen.

Also like, what do you say to something like that? Because wow there is a lot to unpack there.

Agatha’s implying that what Rio gave her and Nicky is worse than her sacrificing Nicky for power. That she isn’t trying to be cruel, she truly can’t see the gift of time Rio gave them. That she sees herself somehow responsible for what happened to Nicky. That she doesn’t just blame Rio, she blames herself.

If I had to plot out some kind of transition between these two conversations, I would do something like:

Let the silence after the admission drag on a bit. Rio looks concerned but doesn't say anything in the moment.

Agatha takes the opportunity to walk away. Rio doesn't stop her but follows. Agatha lets her.

After a moment of quiet walking, Agatha asks about when Rio knew about the Road hex and they compare notes for a bit (Rio probably throwing shade at the weird nature here). This time lets Agatha build up her walls again.

They sit down and talk about the point of the hex, which then nicely leads into their second conversation, starting with what Billy wants.

In their second conversation, what's interesting here how very reluctant Rio is about asking for Agatha's help. She knows Agatha and hates being in this position so much she doesn't even want to say it, letting Agatha piece together what she needs.

It must truly be a rare instance that Agatha has this kind of leverage over Rio, over Death.

Because Agatha reacts like a shark scenting blood in the water. She barely hides it.

This goes back to your question: Why does Agatha make such an deal that hurts Rio so badly?

My read is that Agatha basically reacts to this rush of power over Rio the same way she badly – almost instinctively – reacted to Alice presenting her with her magic:

She takes and takes and takes.

Because Rio's always been unstoppable but now Agatha can stop her. This is what's she's been hungering for.

That sense of helplessness she felt moments ago when she thought she had to let Billy go – like she let Nicky go – now turns to something with teeth.

You can see Agatha literally take a second to calculate the most cruel thing she can say to Rio to hurt her, to deny and reject her love.

Now that's the emotional side of things. On a more logical level, Agatha goes into scheming mode. This is like muscle memory for her at this point, she won't deny an opportunity to get ahead.

So she doesn't deny Rio's ask. She makes the price of her handing over Billy so awful to Rio it has maybe a chance of stopping her from her mission, or buying more time at least. For so much of her life Agatha has justified murder and lies and the worst behaviour with the need to survive and protect what's hers.

Once again: Calculated move, bad at math.

Because Rio accepts the deal. She's so wounded she doesn't even push back even a little. She reacts so badly to Agatha's rejection, to her taking advantage of this opportunity, that she gives into being the villain Agatha sees her as.

[enavstars]

Cyberpunk au

RGB designs for a new au

Important things:

The inspiration for this was the game Stray (that I finally played).

This is a hyperfixation that I don't know when it's going to end. I'll probably draw things from it as much as my motivation lets me but don't expect it to be a constant thing like Eclipse or On the road.

I love worldbuilding so there is a lot of details of this au already, feel free to ask questions.

The world is dark and very corrupted but the tone of the au is chill because the sibs dgaf about the world.

Worldbuilding details (my friend wrote this because this is complicated and I suck at writing) [very long text under the cut]:

The key element of this AU’s worldbuilding is a new biohazardous artificial plant which was originally genetically engineered by the scientist of the RGB’s city-state to fight the air pollution that plagued the region by attempting to reduce the amount of CO2 from the atmosphere (yes this is a biopunk universe :)). However, because they are an ugly reddish colour, have a bitter taste and are extremely nutrient-deficient and unhealthy, they have no natural predators and can spread like wildfire across both fertile plots and forests like weeds. On top of that, due to that nutrient deficiency, which stems from the slow absorption ability of their roots (not nearly enough to keep the heavy rate of photosynthesis), they evolved on their own to attach themselves to other living beings as parasites and basically invaded the entire area around the metropolis. With them being potentially lethal, this caused a massive problem that made the city panic; although they have plenty of weak points (like fire and a vulnerable immune system) and it takes them very long to get their roots to the rest of the body, their grip is so deep and strong that the only option is to remove the infected body part. So their special ability became a critical issue when the plants unexpectedly ended up liking animals better, and with them humans themselves, because they could carry them to other places and infest those too while still sucking the life out of them until they die (oopsie). Ultimately, with the lack of proper information on the parasites, and because the situation was handled very poorly overall, they ended up taking many people’s lives and made the most vulnerable species of the area (like cattle) go endangered or extinct, which in turn altered the balance of the ecosystem and the working class’ means of living :).

Sorry this chunk was so technical, we (@kaigoesbrr and I) are biology nerds, but basically the plants were so good at making more oxygen and so ass at getting what they needed to do so that they became parasites, and now they get what they need from plants and animals (and they like animals better, like humans, because they have more stuff and help them spread further). Then society collapsed :).

All of this caused a deep economic crisis that brought about high rates of poverty, and with it, a deep fear of the infested world outside the city walls. So this whole conundrum led to the city closing off to the lands around it, implementing absurd levels of security like a tight border control and a slower, more strict business traffic, and making a huge dark translucent dome that encapsulates the whole city to keep any potential smuggled plants from ever growing by blocking the natural sunlight. They even made a ditch around their walls (kind of like a moat) and burnt and bombed the fields and suburbs around them to make them extremely infertile. So yeah, this city-state is a terrible place to live, a gloomy prison where not even the sun and stars can be seen, but most the inhabitants never leave out of that paranoid terror and the heavy bureaucracy needed to just go outside and touch grass.

(haha with poor funding corrupt scientists who didn’t know what they were doing made a mess, shocker how that would backfire horribly).

However, the outside isn’t as bad as they make it out to be. In the end, the plants did clean the air as they were supposed to, and, as nature does, it did somewhat recover from the disaster to where human life is now sustainable again.

Taking advantage of their thick crust, trees were the least affected by the plague, and the other plants in the forest developed new natural defences against the parasites, which was yet another reason why they in turn became best at infecting animals. And many of the fungi, abundant in the now more humid forest (haha cooler air equals more rain), took advantage of their weak immune system (due to their fucking incompetent creators making a mess of the original plant’s DNA) and infected them (haha scammer get scammed). So basically, the fields and farmlands were lost to the people, but the forests are still intact. Also, even though one of the rivers around the city, the one which makes its ways under it and is therefore connected to the water supply and sewer systems, is trashed, the other, which is further away, is now perfectly healthy due to the city closing off and therefore leaving it alone for enough time. The real issue here lies within the actual government, which obviously does not want to expose how corrupt and lazy they are when dealing with problems and so they keep fueling the paranoia of their most vulnerable citizens since they are kids :). One way they do so is by manipulating the information their people get, claiming bullshit like “the current ecosystem is wild and polluted, it cannot offer our economy anything anymore!” and “the plants are dangerous and will kill you if you ever come into contact with them, and they have infected virtually every living thing around!”. Another is by not educating their population about “the Outside”, treating it like a sort of taboo. Therefore, they refuse to explain, or hush those who try to, the actual danger of the plants and how to deal with them (they do have many weaknesses, after all).

But the people in this world have yet another nasty problem. In this AU there are beings believed to be anthropomorphic demons due to their pointy ears, fangs, and sometimes strange behaviour. But in fact, these people are descendants of the dragons that once lived in these nations, but their origins were forgotten as the world gradually lost touch with its spirituality and ancestry, and now those who were once revered for their “godlike attributes” (yes, they kinda worshipped dragons, I mean, who wouldn’t) are today facing discrimination. However, even though they aren’t considered exactly “people”, the pure humans are still kind of afraid of them, so they usually choose the subtler kind of racism. In most governments, “Demons” get less job opportunities and are denied high positions, can be freely banned from any establishment, and face unmatched prejudice just for existing, especially those with a stronger blood relation with their ancestry. In the city, they are treated as less than even the robots (nindroids of all kinds), who are treated like any other respected social group by now because they have grown so advanced that most of them are just like humans in metal armour. In fact, many of them are mechanics, who are held in high esteem for making the many bionic implants for the humans.

And all of that combined made the RGB siblings (who are obviously demons, especially Lloyd), decide never to leave the Outside, where they grew up, to go live in the city.

When they were younger, Kai and Nya adopted Lloyd when they found him asleep in a box in the middle of nowhere, after having been abandoned themselves a few years earlier. This time, though, their dynamic in this AU is more of a team than Kai being a mom to them both like he always is, so even if Kai feels the most responsible for being the eldest sibling, they rely on each other almost equally. They fend off the plants that threaten them with fire (no they do not have powers, but Kai uses a fucking flamethrower because it’s Kai), and usually live on whatever they can find in the wild: mostly by making traps for game, fishing in the cleaner river and occasionally foraging edible plats (that’s more risky and they are more carnivorous anyway). Also, Nya routinely strolls through the ruins of the suburbs to collect scrap junk to turn as much of it as she can into useful trinkets, the rest of which she sells to Ed and Edna’s junkyard and their son, who is an amateur mechanic (wink wink but no shipping actually). Apart from that though, they usually sneak into the metropolis to cause a bit of mayhem here and there, which over time and on top of the fear over their species has earned them a reputation of People You Don't Wanna Mess With (or "Demons", more like). More than once they’ve even messed with a few of the gangs around town, which started sprouting up after the disaster, so overall their presence in the city is tolerated, but frowned upon. They manage to bypass the annoying border control thanks to the faulty assistant robot who raised them, named Echo (wink wink), who cannot perform any other social job (what he was made for) than to be the ferryman for those few people who decide to cross the wide moat and venture out into the Outside. They usually take a secret tunnel that a few smugglers managed to make, and the Guard do nothing because they do not give a fuck about demons anyway (in fact, only a few people know that their actual names aren’t Red, Blue and Green because nobody gives a fuck indeed). They do actually know a few people there, some of whom are also demons (like Mistake and Ronin), but especially as kids (which is when the story starts) they spend most of their time in the wild chilling and going on adventures :³.

(no the city and the plants are not named, we’re lazy :))

Anyway this is what I'll say for now. There's a lot more info, and hopefully drawings, coming. Hope you like this au because I love it for now ^^

(Btw let me know if you want me to make a post/reblog explaining the designs for the Rgb siblings and some info behind them)

[gem-de-lune]

Big kpop stores around the world are announcing they won’t be selling riize products for the foreseeable future, as well as riize followers have dropped on every platform. Is sm aware of all this? Are they feeling any pressure?

Okay so a few of yall asked something along these lines so I will do a read on this.

Does SM/Center 5 Know about the Boycott/How they feel

4 of Chalices, Strength

I would say that they are acutely aware. I think that there are two things happening at once. A- They are aware there's a whole bregade of people rallying and they are simply ignoring it. B- They are aware there is one, but don't find it significant and plan to push through/ignore it. (Do not feel discouraged just yet about this bit. This is bc they have yet to see the real affects yet)

How does SM feel about international Kpop stores not restocking?

7 of Pentacles

They expect it to bounce back. They are willing to be patient about it. They don't think it'll be a significant loss.

BUT THEN I asked what will happen if they see the results from this specific development - as I personally know there will be a significant loss.

7 of Swords, Knave of Wands, 2 of Swords.

Whenever this Knave pops out, even though it traditionally has an alternative meaning, she is always giving "bite the hand that feeds you" energy. My cards never use her to relay another message than that. So, in other words, this is kinda like a shocking surprise, feeling slapped? And like they now need to reevaluate things and revisit the situation but they don't know what to really do. I think the shock will be more mild here. But keep in mind this is solely regarding the intl kpop store restocks reaction.

How will SM currently proceed right now?

Temperance

They are holding out. They will wait and ignore the boycott situation for right now. Again, this is bc Boycotts take time to see effects. They don't see a huge effect yet, so they are almost like waiting to see if it's worth their attention. They do only care about Intl fans' money. As I said in an earlier reading, they will always make a decision in regards to profits and what has a positive outlook. They will be monitoring the situation for this. That is why WE CANNOT GIVE UP and NEED TO KEEP BOYCOTTING.

What will happen if they proceed with this attitude?

8 of Swords

They are gonna be bled dry. They are gonna kinda lowkey be scrambling around. Similar to the above pull with the Knave- it's a shock and the results kind of make them feel like they're pushed into a corner. Or kinda like when you lay there unable to do anything whilst chaos ensues around you, and you can only watch sh go wrong. It's not a positive outlook for them.

What will they do if it comes to this?

2 of Chalices, 6 of Chalices, Tower

So literally I had only pulled the 2 of Chalices at first for this question. But as I typed 2 of Chalices and tried to move on, my phone kept wizzing out, pasting things from my clipboard trying to add things, and ITALICIZED the 2 of Chalices. So I pulled a 2nd card, 6 of Chalices. As I thought about this, it was very weird. I specifically thought how weird it was that the 2 card had been Italicized. So i pulled one nore card to confirm this feeling, and yup. I think this is a very important point here so listen closely.

The 2 of Chalices originally to me was saying that they'd try and compromise and come to a solution. In pulling the 6 of Chalices it confirmed a revisiting of the situation and people involved (Riize). But i pulled the Tower after this. I sincerely think they are either going to try and pull a fast one, or the "solulu" they come up with as a compromise will not be a good one at all. Their goal here will be damage control. They will think they've come up with a great solution, relay it to the public or to Riize, and it will be something outrageous. OR they will lie and say they're revisiting to get everyone to stop Boycotting, and then quietly never address it again once things have calmed down. They will try to KILL our motivation.

So I am going to let yall know right now. This is serious business. We need to be WORKING. It will NOT be a walk in the park getting SM to let up.

I then asked if this plan they have would work and pulled the Hermit.

This means that IF WE LET OUR GUARD DOWN before* he is OFFICIALLY announced to return to the group, it may** work. If we become complacent or lazy, it may work. If we switch up, it may work. We NEED to KEEP GOING until the very end. This is extremely important.

I then asked what would happen if we stuck to our guns and continued regardless of any promises or statements put out.

Queen of Wands, 10 of Swords, 2 of Wands.

So usually I see the Queen from this card as a protector. I do not really see that here. The Queen represents the collective, and the 10 of Swords comes afterward. I see this more as the collective forcing the hand of SM towards the flame, literally guiding. After SM forcefully burns, they have to change plans and make adjustments and new priorities, which is their transformation. In other words, this is good. They will lose the battle here because we gave them no way out.

THAT is what will happen if we continue full force.

THAT is what we need to do to win this.

Mark my words, SM will release a statement or some absolute BS about rethinking the situation. However, they are lying if they do this. They cod already be actively lying to Riize. If they bring him back, it will be with the swiftness that they release an official statement saying such, not a "I'm thinking abt it" statement. Please be careful about that. They will try to trick the collective and everyone involved.

Timeframes:

A lot of yall are kind of wondering how long this period will last. I pulled a 4 of Swords for a timeframe. It's def not 4 months. More like 4 days, 4 weeks, or the 4th. This means we could start seeing some of these things transpire very soon.

Final Notes:

This is one of the more taxing readings I've done. I truly see a good resolution within our grasp, but this is war, guys. War is hard, it's difficult, and it's tiring. But it will all be worth it.

I want to remind you all that we are not just doing this for Seunghan. We are doing this for every single idol in the entire industry. We are doing this so that no other idol ever has to be kicked out for things that were not their fault, things that are normal, things they should not be apologizing for. We are changing how these idols are being treated and I see with immense clarity that no matter what, this is something that has been a long time coming and will significantly change the industry as we know it.

PLEASE continue to boycott and support Seunghan.

Victory IS possible. It IS possible for us to win. It IS possible for Seunghan to come back.

RIIZE IS 7!!

[denial-permanente]

Hi Mrs Edge. You answered a question for me some time ago, and it gave me so much to think about. I saw you reposted it recently, and I wanted to give you an update, and ask another question.

We do have an FLR, and I keep my husband locked all the time. I rarely came from intercourse in the past, so this was not a problem for me. After reading about you enjoying the Ranger so much, we decided to try it for ourselves. It turned out that I enjoyed it quite a bit, much more than either of us expected. I discovered that being "in control of the action" allowed me to have regular orgasms that I did not have from PIV with my husband, so "Foxing" became a normal part of our lovemaking.

That led to my keeping my husband locked for longer and longer periods, without any "reward." And as you can probably imagine, when I would allow him a "reward," he would be so sensitive that he would barely last a minute inside me before finishing. Since after coming I just want to lay back and snuggle, I decided that it was too much trouble to look for the key, unlock him, and then have him clean up the mess after he was done. So I finally told him that I really had no more reason to unlock him, and that I didn't imagine myself allowing him inside me anymore.

So as you can imagine, my husband is freaking out over the idea that he is now in a "No pussy" FLR marriage. I don't really feel guilty about denying him, because he did ask for all this, and this is where we ended up. Although sometimes I feel a little guilty that I don't feel guilty, do you know what I mean?

Anyway, I wanted to ask you about this. How did you deal with your own guilt (if you had any) over permanently denying your husband? How did you manage to convince him that this was a good thing? And how was he able to cope with it?

Thanks again, 💋 Mistress Karin

Hi Karin - I remember your post. I was wondering if I would hear from you again, and thank you for giving me an update. You seemed to have a lifestyle that was similar to how my husband and I started out.

Here is the original question.

You have a lot going on here. To begin with, I do know what you mean about feeling guilty about not feeling guilty. 😅 My husband really allowed me to be selfish and for a while I would stop and wonder why I was okay with it and if I "owed" him for spoiling me. All I can say is that time will tell. Eventually I just took it for granted that he was totally okay with pleasuring me and that he really was satisfied when I was satisfied. I used to ask him if he was okay but I guess eventually I just stopped asking and listened to him tell me how he felt. And while we don't have an FLR, we're in a very similar situation. He committed to this... to giving me all the control knowing that we could end up here. And that's where you are with your husband. I think a lot of men have this fantasy in their heads that their wives will become some kind of sexual dominatrix and don't know how to cope when we REALLY take over and tell them what we want. Your husband probably didn't expect to be in a "No pussy" relationship and now has to figure out how to cope with it.

The other thing that you have going on is that your husband is probably a little (or a lot!) freaked out that making love... intercourse... is more enjoyable now that he is "foxing" you with the Vixskin Ranger. My husband has said that a lot of men have this deep rooted primal fear of not "being good enough" in bed... wondering if their wives are thinking about someone else or wishing they were with men who were "bigger" down there. And while they can be good in bed... loving or creative or passionate or whatever you like... they can't make themselves bigger, so they tend to obsess over it. 😅

So right now your husband is freaking out that his own penis wasn't "good enough" to make you come. His worst fear... that he is being "replaced" is coming true. Even though the Vixskin attached to him he probably has in the back of his head that "he" wasn't enough and he is no longer in control of any part of his situation.

Worse (for him) ... now that you've discovered something "better," he gets unlocked less and less which makes him more and more sensitive. He is losing whatever ability he had to give you any pleasure with his own penis. So he's not just freaking out that you have turned this into a "No pussy" FLR... he is also freaking out that even if you allowed it he couldn't "measure up" to his replacement.

I know there are some couples who do "foxing" and who give a name to their Vixskin. That kind of plays on the "being replaced" fear that many men have. If your husband secretly enjoys the idea that may be a way to make his freaking out more exciting.

We aren't into that... I just prefer to think of the Vixskin as my husband's actual penis, and that's how he has learned to think of it as well. I don't know if that's good or bad but it's how I feel the most comfortable. He "copes" with being "locked and replaced" by learning how to enjoy the pleasure that he gives me. He says that he's still freaked out but has found a way to make it erotic in his head.

And of course a lot of men just get freaked out by the whole idea of "no pussy" in their relationship. If your husband is more freaked out by the "No pussy" aspect then you could probably help him by allowing occasional "rewards" like unlocking him and just using your hands. I have mixed feelings on this. On one hand I think it's okay to give your husband some rewards to keep up his spirits. On the other hand (😅) by using just your hands it might emphasize your "No pussy" rule, which could just make him more aware or focused on it. Certainly, by sticking to your "No pussy" rule he will be always re.inded that you are in charge which is probably what you want. I know that when my husband comes in his cage, it feels good for him... but it also reminds him that this is the only way he's allowed now. Again... the idea is both hot and scary for him at the same time.

For me... it really took a few years for me to feel comfortable that my husband was really enjoying this. Even though he committed to it years ago I needed some time to see how dedicated he was and know that even during those times when there was stuff going on with them family or whatever that he wasn't going to freak out and ask to be unlocked. And I have to say that a big part of my own comfort was a result of watching how he handled himself over the years. I know that even though he wanted more... he proved to me that my own pleasure was the most important thing in his mind. Once I could see that I just all sense of guilt or feeling sorry and have been able to just focus on what I enjoy.

Please drop by more often to let me know how you're doing.