#or I just made adjustments based on my previous experiences

[likeumeanit9497]

the re-do | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n participates in the triplets' "dirty q&a" video, where she accidentally infers that her experience losing her virginity to matt back in high school had been mediocre. instead of taking offence, matt makes it his mission to show her just how much he has improved since then.

warnings: SMUT; established friendship; m/f oral; unprotected p in v; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hi guys! this is my first ever one shot so pls be gentle with me (i'm genuinely so terrified to post this). it has absolutely NOT been proof read forgive me, but i hope you all enjoy <333

“Guys why am I actually nervous to film this?” Nick proclaimed from his place in the backseat of the car beside me. “No I am genuinely so scared right now.” Replied Chris from the seat in front of me as he began passing out our respective orders from McDonalds.

“We can’t act nervous or else the fans are gonna go even crazier than they already will.” Added Nick as Matt adjusted the camera on the dash. “You’re sure you’re gonna be able to handle the inevitable shit talking that’s gonna come from all this?” Matt asked as he turned to face me in the back. I took a deep breath but nodded. “The more they see me the more desensitized they’ll be. They’ll have to eventually get over it.”

As one of the triplet’s closest girl friends, I had been on the receiving end of a fair amount of hate from their fangirls on the internet. Because I had known them since elementary school, I had been a part of many of their earlier videos when their fans had still been pretty chill about our friendship. But over the past year, a new wave of younger fans had found the videos and had made it their life mission to publicly bash me any chance that they could. It became too much when, a few months ago, one of them decided to spread a rumour that Chris and I had slept together based on nothing other than strategically edited clips of us smiling at each other. It was then that the guys and I had made the decision to keep me as out of the public eye as possible.

However, the guys had sat me down last week to explain how fed up they were with how restricted they felt they had been in their content. They wanted to make an attempt at reclaiming a fandom built primarily of viewers closer to our age, and they thought that the best way to try that was to ignore the petty complaints and make content that they wanted to make. So, since I had been staying with them in Los Angeles for the month, I had agreed to not only be in one of their regular videos, but I had agreed to be in their ‘dirty q&a’ video. I couldn’t lie, I was a bit nervous, but mostly I was excited that my friends were finally confident enough to make videos with more extreme topics.

“Alright guys, ya’ll ready?” Chris asked, intaking a sharp breath while his hand hovered over the record button on the camera. We all responded with a falsely enthusiastic “ready!”, and the camera was turned on.

“Alright, first question,” Nick began after his long-winded introduction filled with disclaimers and explanations for their change in content. “How many people have you slept with?” Already with the first question, it was obvious that the guys were tentative about answering. “Bro I don’t know, next question.” Chris responded, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’ Chris?” Asked Matt tauntingly. “I mean I haven’t fucking kept track of everyone I’ve slept with.” He responded bluntly, before realizing how bad that had sounded. We all, however, erupted into laughter immediately. “Okay okay it’s not that bad guys I swear, I just have a bad memory is all.” He attempted to remedy his previous answer, but all three of us continued to laugh.

“Matt, how about you?” Asked Nick, to which Matt simply held up five fingers to the camera. “Same with me.” Nick agreed before turning to me. “Y/n? Spill it.” I rolled my eyes before answering truthfully. “Seven.” I shrugged, and I caught Matt’s smiley eyes through the rear view mirror.

“Alright next question is…” Chris was scrolling through the responses to their Instagram threads. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

“Sixteen” We all responded in unison, and immediately buckled over in laughter. “Not all at once though ya’ll.” Nick explained through his laughter, while mine and Matt’s eyes flew open and Chris’ laugh turned into hysterics. “Well…” Chris began before he was cut short by the three of us telling him to shut up. “I’m definitely gonna have to cut that one out. Sorry you two fools, I kind of set him up there.” Nick rolled his eyes as he looked between Matt and I.

Ironically enough, the fans had been half right in their rumour about Chris and I sleeping together. I had slept with one of the triplets before, but it wasn’t Chris.

When we were sixteen, Matt and I had decided that we wanted to lose our virginities to each other. It had been a no-strings-attached decision, and our friendship thankfully never wavered after it was done. Both Nick and Chris had already lost theirs that same year, and we had both just kind of wanted to get it over with. Obviously, this piece of information was known only by Matt and I, and of course Chris and Nick since they had barged into the room while we were in bed together. Even though the vindictive side of me would love to have the fans know this piece of information and shatter their dreams, I knew that the fallout would be an absolute nightmare.

“Okay let’s see…” I had been handed Nick’s phone to choose a question to answer and was scrolling through my options. “Here’s a simple one. Favourite position? Mine’s speed bump for sure.” I placed the phone down, satisfied with my confident answer, only to be met with multiple pairs of confused eyes. “I beg your pardon? The fuck is speed bump?” Asked Nick as he took his phone back. “The one where you’re kinda just lying flat on your stomach with the guy behind you. Trust me it’s chef’s kiss.” I responded simply. Chris’ facial expression turned from confusion to one of understanding. “Ohhh yeah that’s a good one.” He replied as he dapped me up. “Great, gonna have to edit that out too unless you want the rumours to get really bad again.” Nick said as he rolled his eyes. “Shit, sorry Nick.” Chris said, giggling slightly.

“Let’s just move on.” Matt said as he began scrolling on his own phone. “Best and worst sexual experiences.” He read off of his screen. There was a moment of silence while we all thought of our answers. “I had a girl throw up on my dick once. The problem is I don’t know if that makes it the worst or the best though.” Said Chris, earning a loud groan from each of us. “You’re sick.” Replied Matt, giving his brother a disgusted look.

“I mean I guess the worst sex would probably be my first time right? Like that makes sense right?” Asked Nick in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Chris’ confession, to which I nodded in agreed response without thinking. I caught Matt’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, this time seeing them filled with a pleading expression. Realizing what I had done, I silently prayed to the universe that my action would go unnoticed by the others. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, my head nod didn’t make it past Chris, which was made incredibly clear when he mumbled to Nick behind his hand that was hiding his smiling mouth from the camera.

“Did you see that?” He asked, and Nick looked confused so he continued, “Y/n agreed with you about her first time.” He managed to get out before erupting into laughter at the expense of his brother. Matt threw his hands up in the air once Nick joined Chris in his giggling, and I winced from my place in the backseat; also mouthing an apology to Matt’s reflection in the mirror.

“Bro come on it was my first time! I guarantee you were trash your first time too.” Matt said in an attempt to repair his ego as he threw his empty cup at Chris. “Maybe so, but I don’t have the girl who I lost it to here in the car to confirm it.” Chris snarked back, playfully nudging Matt’s shoulder. “We all gotta start somewhere dude.” He added when Matt didn’t respond. As Nick continued choking on his own laughter, Matt crossed his arms and stared out the window, very clearly wishing he was anywhere but there in that moment.

“Okay okay,” Nick began catching his breath. “We need to cool it because 90% of that what we just filmed is completely unusable. Let’s please just try to make it through this video without exposing Matt and Y/n’s bumpy sexual history again.” He pleaded as he began scrolling through his phone to find new questions.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“God, that was rough.” Said Chris as we all climbed out of the parked car. We had finally finished the video. It took us an hour to film, and would still be edited down to just twenty minutes of content where we weren’t exposing big secrets or directly fuelling past rumours.

“At least it’s done. It might be a while before I ever want to do that again.” Nick responded as he opened the garage door leading into their house. “Agreed.” Added Matt from behind me as we climbed the stairs to the main level. We all walked over to the fridge to grab drinks, as if the beverages would clean our dirty mouths.

“Alright,” Chris began after a hefty chug from his Pepsi, “I’m going to my room. Matt, Nick, get on Fortnite with me.” He began descending the stairs. “I’ll get on once I shower Chris. I have a desperate need to scrub this FILTH off of my body.” Replied Nick, and he began walking towards the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Y/n, come upstairs whenever you want to go to sleep and I’ll get off the game.” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared at the top of the stairs.

Matt and I were left alone in the kitchen, him sitting at the table and me sitting on top of the counter in between the stove and the fridge. Swinging my legs carelessly, I decided to break the silence first. “I’m really sorry about all of that in the car Matt. I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at me and chuckled. “Yes you did, and it’s not a big deal. I know I wasn’t great back then.” He responded before taking a drink from his can. I smiled softly at his response but decided to leave it be. There was no use in trying to deny it. The sex was just boring, short, and awkward; the way that most first times are. At least he didn’t take any offence to it.

“You know,” He began after a few moments of silence, his eyes shooting to mine as he stood up from his place at the kitchen table. “I’ve gotten much better.” A playful smirk travelled to his lips as he began walking towards my frozen figure on the counter. He stopped just a few short centimetres away from me, so close that I could reach out and touch any part of him that I wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me, until I felt his early signs of arousal press lightly against my knee.

My throat was dry, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Even though Matt and I had slept together when we were younger, the dynamic was much different than now. The proposition came about awkwardly, and we were a fumbling mess with very little understanding of how it felt to be aroused. But in this moment, I was very very aroused just from this conversation.

In my silence, he placed a firm hand on my hip, rubbing his thumb across it gently. “I can do just about anything. Just let me know how you want it and I can give it to you.” My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I felt my panties dampen. He used his free hand to push my legs apart so that he could stand in between them, and my limp hands subconsciously moved up to grab onto his shoulders. At the first sign of my willingness, Matt quickly leaned forward and peppered soft, teasingly slow kisses along my neck. His lips travelled up to my ear, where he bit the lobe playfully before whispering, “Well, tell me. How do you want me Y/n?”

His words caused me to clench on nothing and I nearly moaned from the anticipation. With him still waiting on my response I whispered back, “You can do anything you want to me, Matty.”

Without missing a beat, he attacked my lips with his own and I melted from the immediate relief. I moved my hands from his shoulders up to the base of his head, and as his tongue danced along with mine I pulled gently at his messy hair; my own mouth filling with a moan falling from his lips. His right hand traveled up my grey hoodie to find that I had nothing on underneath, and he lightly brushed the bottom of my left tit with his thumb. Suddenly his hands moved from under my shirt and gripped my ass as he effortlessly lifted me off the counter and into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stumbled towards his bedroom.

Once inside the undisturbed room, he placed me down on his desk, my ass hitting the mouse and causing the computer to turn on; casting a light on the otherwise dark room. He wasted no time in removing my hoodie, leaning me back slightly so he could easily twirl his tongue along each nipple. I hummed in pleasure from the warm, wet sensation of his mouth connecting to my skin, and brought my hand down in between our bodies to softly run my hand up and down his clothed hardness. After a few moments, he pushed my hand away and dropped to his knees in between my legs.

Pulling my grey sweats off my body and pushing my thong to the side in one quick motion, Matt took a moment to relish in my swollen, dripping hole. “I don’t remember you being this wet for me last time.” He smirked as he looked up at me with blown out pupils. “Let’s see if you taste the same.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head at his filthy words, and a moan slipped from between my lips as his mouth made sloppy contact with my sensitive bud. I subconsciously grabbed onto the back of his head, suffocating him with my heat as he continued to suck and kiss my clit. As his tongue worked on my nerves, he released a guttural moan that vibrated against my heat, causing my back to arch at the intense feeling.

When we had done this all of those years before, Matt’s movements were lacking in confidence. He had fumbled around my clit blindly, and had ate me out cautiously as if he was afraid of hurting me. Now, this Matt had clearly gained experience, as my stomach was already beginning to fill with the familiar pressure from the build up of an orgasm once I watched him find all of my most sensitive spots; his eyes blissfully closed.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away from my heat and I groaned at the loss of contact. He straightened his body back up to my level and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were touching. “Kiss me. I want you to know how good you taste.” He whispered through his glistening bright red lips. More on fire than I had ever been in my life, I immediately attached my open mouth to his, moaning at the distinct taste of my sweet arousal on his tongue. As we deepened the kiss, his fingers found my heat and he ran two of them up and down my folds to collect my wetness before slamming them into my cunt; finding my spongey g-spot on the first pump with his curled fingers.

My head rolled back, lost in the euphoric feeling of his fingers filling me up, and he watched my facial expressions intently as the wet sounds of my upcoming orgasm filled the space between us. “Holy fuck, Matt.” I slurred, my voice coming out choppy as his fingers continued to relentlessly pound into me; never losing contact with that one spot that drove me crazy. “I-I’m gonna-” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the very beginning of my orgasm roll over my body.

Suddenly, all of his movements stopped and my eyes shot open out of frustration. In the time since my eyes had screwed shut, his own had darkened in arousal. My body trembled from the sudden halt in its pleasure, and he smirked at me. “You want to cum, sweetheart?” He asked, his kind words a harsh paradox to his sinister expression. Still, I nodded eagerly to which he pulled his fingers out of me completely before leaning up and placing his wet mouth right against my ear.

“You’re gonna fucking wait for me.”

I attempted to squeeze my legs together to take some pressure off of my throbbing, unsatisfied core as his vulgar words scrambled my brain, before he pulled me off the desk and pushed my head down so that I was now the one on my knees. Confused, I looked up to find him gazing down at me. He gestured towards his clothed member. “Go ahead.” I grinned slyly.

My turn.

I had made an attempt at giving him head the first time we had sex. Just like him, I had struggled with confidence due to the sole fact that I had no clue what I was doing. Since then, I had had plenty of practice, and I was excited to now be the one to show him my improvements.

I grabbed onto the waist band of his pyjama pants and pulled them down to his knees. With only his tight red boxer shorts covering it now, the outline of his thick cock and the small wet spot at its tip from his pre-cum made my mouth water. I brought my mouth up to the skin on his lower stomach, right above the Calvin Klein logo on his boxers, and began peppering excruciatingly slow kisses along the light sprinkling of hair there. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes to find him peering down at me with curious lust, his mouth open slightly and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

After a short while, I grabbed his boxers and pulled them down to meet his pants at his knees. His hardened cock smacked his stomach on its release from the tight material, where it left a wet patch from his pre-cum. Grabbing it with my left hand, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth and stared up at him as I let it all drip down his swollen member. After pumping my hand for a few strokes, I placed only the tip in my mouth as I watched his eyes dilate. I swirled my tongue teasingly along the swollen tip, tasting the the saltiness of his fluid. Eventually, I began pumping my hand up and down his shaft in rhythm with my head bobbing along the top half of his cock. He shifted on his feet at the new sensation and let his head fall back. I kept my pace agonizingly lazy, knowing that it would drive him crazy.

With my tongue, I licked a strip from the base of his ball sack, up his shaft, and to his tip, earning a hushed whimper from his lethargic mouth before he grabbed my hair and shifted his hips. Looking down at me and holding my head firmly in place, he began thrusting his hips as he kept me still. He started slow, but when he realized that I could take more his pace began to pick up and his cock began to hit deep in my throat. I looked up at him through my tear-filled eyes, and saliva began to drip down my chin. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted out through each thrust. I lifted my hand to cup his balls, giving them gentle squeezes that seemed to send him towards his climax.

As a moan fell from his lips, he pulled my head back so that his dripping cock sprung free before he got the chance to fill my mouth with his cum. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed taking deep breaths as if he was fighting the urge to finish right then, before he opened his eyes and gazed down at me. “Get on the bed.”

I pulled myself up off the ground and, on shaky legs, walked over to his bed with him following close behind. Once I reached the edge of the bed he stopped me, turning me around to face him and pushing me down so I would sit. “Put your feet on the bed and pull your knees up to your chest.” He commanded, and I did as I was told, albeit I was a bit confused. “Good girl.” He praised me as he pulled me right up to the edge of the bed before pushing my legs further apart.

Placing one of his knees on the bed beside me, he lined his cock up with my entrance; rubbing it tantalizingly along my wetness. Placing one arm around my waist to brace my body, he slowly pushed his cock inside of me right there on the edge of the bed. His trusts were slow but harsh, and the position he had placed us in made it so that my cervix was barrelled into each time his hips met mine. He placed his sweat-coated forehead against my collar bone and released small breathless grunts with each deep thrust. “So fucking good Matt. Oh god.” I whined as his pace began to increase in speed. He planted his teeth into my shoulder as we fell back onto the bed; his body now completely on top of mine as he continued to drive into me.

He lifted his head and looked fixedly at my fucked out face, his eyes glossed over in erotic pleasure. With this visual, I was brought back to the first time we had fucked, in a position so similar to this one. His rhythm was slower and much more tentative, and we were both certainly much less pleasing to the other, but still I suddenly got hit with a wave of recognition in how much we had both grown since then.

I was pulled out of my trance by Matt’s commanding voice. “Move back real quick and get on your stomach.” I did as I was told, feeling the emptiness that came from his dick sliding out of my soaking wet pussy. Assuming he wanted me in doggy, I got on my knees and arched my back; my head and shoulders pressed firmly against the soft mattress. I felt the bed move as he climbed on all the way, and in a moment of animalistic desperation I pushed my needy cunt subconsciously back to meet heat of his cock.

“No.” He stated simply, his veiny hands massaging my ass. Confused, I looked over my shoulder as I waited for him to explain. He had an ominous smile as he moved his gaze from my fully exposed cunt to my face. “I wanna see if your favourite position is really worth the hype.” He used his hands on my ass to push it down flat to the bed before adjusting himself so that he could line up correctly. Still looking over my shoulder with glazed eyes, I watched his expression as his cock sunk into my core once again. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyelashes fluttered slightly from the new sensation that the position gave him as he bottomed out. “Oh fuck.” His eyes were fully shut now as he stayed still for a moment. Small beads of sweat traveled down his stomach as I took in the beauty of the man who was making me feel so so good.

Getting turned on even more just from Matt’s visual pleasure, my walls clenched subconsciously and I whined, “Please keep going Matty.” His eyes snapped open and landed on mine, before he leaned forward — one hand beside my head and the other planted firmly to the small of my back — and began pounding into me relentlessly.

The depth of this position allowed me to feel every inch of his cock, and it became impossible to keep the moans and strings of profanity from escaping my lips. This seemed to be the case for Matt too, as over the sounds of my own moans and the wet sounds of our bodies connecting, I could hear the gruff throaty moans of his own pleasure. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight Y/n.” Even though I was aware that we were both making far too much noise that Chris and Nick would definitely hear, I couldn’t get myself to bring it to Matt’s attention, as the animalistic vocalization of his indulgence was bringing me closer and closer to my climax.

“I-I need to cum Matty.” I managed to vocalize as my nerves began to unravel. “Hold it. Want you to cum with me.” He responded, leaning even further forward so that his body was practically lying on top of mine. He took a free hand and wrapped it around my throat, lightly squeezing the sides as my pleasure became dangerously close to bubbling over.

“P-Please cum for me. I can’t hold it anymore.” I begged, digging my nails into his silk bedsheets and feeling my walls quiver each time he drove his cock into my cervix. His breathing became hitched in my ear and his movements became sloppier. Biting my ear, he asked, “Where do you want me to cum, Y/n?”

Without wasting time, I moaned my response. “Cum in me please. Want you to fill me with it.” At that, Matt slammed his twitching cock into me a few more times before finally telling me what I so desperately needed him to.

“Okay sweetheart. Go ahead and make a mess for me.” Even before his words fully left his dirty mouth, I gave into the overbearing pressure in my stomach and felt my intense orgasm over-take me. Practically screaming his name, my pussy convulsed uncontrollably. I felt the immediate relief and heard the gush as I squirted along his cock and down his legs. “Jesus.” He moaned out as his body suddenly stilled. As my legs shook, I could feel his cock twitching inside of me; painting my walls with his cum.

After we both came down from our highs, catching our breath and reconnecting with our minds, Matt slowly pulled his dick — freshly bathed in my own juices — out of my swollen core. With a satisfied sigh, he threw his body onto the bed beside mine. Both of us laid there for a moment, facing one another with glazed over expressions, before a shameless smile crept onto Matt’s face.

“Well you definitely didn’t squirt the last time we slept together.” He chuckled proudly, and I knew his ego had been inflated. I rolled my eyes. “Well, you didn’t whimper the last time we fucked either.” It was my turn to smile as he covered his face bashfully. We laid there in silence for a moment, both of us lethargic and fucked out.

“If that was anything like when ya’ll lost your virginities then I am extremely impressed.”

Matt and I both shot our heads up and looked around the room for the origin of that familiar voice. We were alone, but my eyes focused on the lit-up computer. On the screen, Matt’s Discord was open to the group with Nick and Chris. I turned to look at Matt, who had also clearly made the same discovery that I had, and whispered, “Did you for real leave the channel unmuted?” He tucked his lips together and shrugged apprehensively, before climbing off the bed and over to the computer.

“Chris, how much of that did you hear?” He asked into his headset. I heard a laugh through the mic. “Oh Matt, I heard it all. Good work. I’m a proud brother.” I covered my face in embarrassment as Matt rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You’re a perv.” He mumbled to his brother, but I caught the small smile that tried to creep to his lips.

“I’m gonna need a fucking lobotomy to get over the trauma that I was just put through.” I heard Nick’s voice now through the mic and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro you could have just left the server, you act like I forced you to listen to the entire thing.” Matt argued with his older brother. “You think I stayed and listened to the ENTIRE thing? What are you crazy?” I was full out laughing now, despite the embarrassment. “I left as soon as I figured out what was happening, but I still heard waaaay too much.” Matt laughed now and muted his mic — perhaps a bit too late — then walked back to where I was on the bed, propped up on my forearms.

“Whoops.” He simply said as he pulled his boxers back up. I shook my head and smiled shyly. “We are literally never going to be able to live that down.” I replied as he draped his body along the bed beside me again. Rubbing his eyes awkwardly, he shrugged softly. “Well, at least they’re gonna have to stop teasing me about my skills.” I smacked his arm playfully and he responded by grabbing me swiftly and pulling me to his side.

“You were impressed, weren’t you?” He asked teasingly, as he held me close. I closed my eyes and sighed, “I was, Matt. Really, really, impressed.” He giggled into my neck at my truthful response and I swatted him once again.

“I’m glad we got our re-do. I’d been wanting that for a while.” He said after a moment. I looked at him with a smile and ruffled his hair. “Me too, honestly. I always knew you had some potential in you.” I teased.

“Well, if you don’t want to have to face Nick right now, you’re welcome to sleep in here tonight.” He offered and I sighed in relief. “That would be great, actually.” I said as I began to sit up. “Let’s get cleaned up first though.” He began as he got up and grabbed us both towels from his closet, “You’re not allowed to get under my sheets until you wash my children off your thighs.” My eyes shot open at his disgusting choice of words and I quickly covered myself with my towel. “Matthew Bernard you are sick!” I exclaimed as we both headed towards his bathroom. “Sure am. But so are you.”

He pulled me into a hug while we stood in the bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. As he rubbed circles on my back with his hand, I sighed. “I think this is the secret to good friendship.” He chuckled before asking, “What is?” Playfully, I smacked his ass over his boxers. “Fucking the shit out of each other once in a while.” He laughed and pulled away from the hug before getting into the shower; leaving the glass door open so that I could follow him. “Shut your weird ass up and get in the shower with me, friend.”

[plumbogs]

Making Sims 2 University Fun: my personal guide

I've noticed that while it's probably one of the most utilized of the expansions, TS2's university is generally seen as a slog. Which makes sense. It has a completely different gameplay loop than the rest of the game. But it's very handy to send your sims to college, especially if you use any of the various mods that limit careers based on education. So here's my big guide to making university an actual fun experience to play through (to me, at least).

The university expansion is, uh, very tailored to the 2000s college party time animal-house tropes. the pack becomes more fun when you treat it that way and let your sims be stupid young adults who streak and fool around on campus and throw parties. which, by default, is tricky because of the gameplay that requires so much skill building and assignments. which the rest of this guide will also deal with.

Note: I make some pretty big changes to normal university gameplay, to the point that it does require a bit of modding and at least one instance of fooling with simpe. there's probably also easier ways to do it, and of course everything is optional. maybe you do like keeping sims in dorms for the entire time and just three-speeding trough it all.

*mods: there are a few absolute must-have mods to me.:

TwoJeff's College Adjuster. It's basically an all-in-one controller to adjust semester timing, change semesters, plus a bunch of other features. The semester timing is the most important to me.

Active Classes is still in testing, but it almost completely changes how I play college sims. Once again, I'll detail gameplay later, but actually sending your sims to class makes for a much more fun campus experience.

No College Time Progression On Community Lots: this goes hand-in-hand with the previous mod.

Community Time: IIRC you have to do a little editing in SimPE to make it work right with University - this post explains what to edit. I don't know if I'm allowed to share the exact edit I made as a download. This might seem redundant after the last mod, but there's a reason for the madness: while one group of sims are in their active classes, the other students can do things on the home lot.

Instant Pledge for Greek Houses: This one is important for greek house gameplay, which is later.

SimBlender: There's like, 500 different edits of the SimBlender, and I think all of them have the main function needed for my college gameplay, which is teleportation. You can use a comparable teleporter if you fancy.

Simlogical's University Break is another important one for me, but it's not really necessary if you don't want it. I usually give the sims one break day per season - more on that later.

Autonomous Casual Romance is not required, but it sure adds a lot of fun to your college experience. You can also do any number of professor-limiting, custom degrees, etc mods and fixes you want.

*mods i do not use: there are mods to change the number of/length of semesters, but I seem to run into issues with them so I use the college adjuster to do the same things. I also don't really use any major overhauls, or mods that make term papers faster. I did have the tuition mod for a bit but grew tired of using it.

*general timing changes: I do seven-day seasons with longer lifespans for all sims and play rotations each day. These are the things I do specifically for university:

Four semesters: I only do semesters 2, 4, 6, and 8. Every time a new semester starts, I just use the College Adjuster to set the correct semester for each sim. I use the default length of 72 hours.

Synchronized finals: I use the College adjuster to reset the timer so the finals are all around 6-8am, and synchronized for each sim on a lot. This makes it easier to keep track of timing and skills. Also, all sims in university run on the same 3-day semester. Finals are the same day for the entire college each round. Once again, that just makes it easier for me to keep track of college-wide events for gameplay reasons.

Because this means there's 3 days per school year, and two school years per season week, it syncs better if they get a day off every Sunday using the University break mod.

Teens are sent to college on the same schedule. I send teens to school when they have 14 days or so left, with maybe an extra day or two if the college is currently in the middle of the semester.

*Gameplay: living situations: Here's where the meat begins. Now all your sims are on the same college schedule, they're all being sent to school, and now they need to actually move into college. I follow a real rule a number of colleges use: Every student spends a year in the dorms. Just their freshman year, then they have to move somewhere else. I find that this gives them a chance to meet dormies, adapt to being on college, and sorta figure out what kind of young adults they are. Plus, this gives them time for joining greek houses, which will be talked about later.

I do this because I like seeing sims as their own little characters with arcs and whatever and it forces me to think about what exactly they would be doing in college. Some sims get so frustrated with the constant mess of a dorm, some sims thrive by making friends with every dormie. Sometimes they start new drama with the others they came from high school with. Nothing quite like losing your high school sweetheart to some stinky dormie, after all.

After freshmen year, the students are kicked out of the dorms. They can get an apartment, they can rent a house, they can move into a greek house if they join one. Either way, they need to live somewhere. You can let them stay in the dorms, but I prefer somewhat smaller college households and divide them accordingly. Which gets into that whole greek house situation:

*Gameplay: greek houses. I gamify the Greek houses. I play SSU in my megahood, which comes with a fraternity and sorority, and you can do whatever setup you like there if you dislike gendered houses. Or abandon them all together and ignore this section. There are a few important elements:

Freshmen cannot live in Greek houses. They can, however, pledge while living in the dorms and move in right after their finals end. This includes dormies. There are benefits to the dorm, such as free housing, more social opportunities, usually more money per household since I cheat to make the greek houses actually nice to live in with things like pools and comfortable furniture, etc.

The Greeks have to be recruiting consistently. To keep the house going, they need to constantly be bringing in new members, either playable OR dormies.

Any recruited dormies are required to move in. You can townify them after graduation if you don't really get attached to them, but every member of the house is moved in. I use the instant pledge mod to get rid of that annoying requirement where they have to hang out on the lot so long before moving in. That, and they also move in after finals. You can teleport or invite them on and just ask them to move in. Whatever you want. Then, you must set them to be sophomores. Beyond that you can do whatever. They're playable now. Have fun.

You gotta let the Greeks party. Throw toga parties all the time and use a teleporter to maximize guests. Generally, ALL members of ALL greek houses are teleported to a party by default. Add more dormies, any friends, anybody in the dorms - the kids need to recruit and the easiest way is by forcing everyone on one lot. If you have autonomy mods or realistic alcohol, sit back and watch the madness unfold.

I don't really play wants-based, so playables that join greek houses is more based on vibes or friendship with existing greek members than wants.

*Gameplay: what do you mean we have to study??? Yeah. I made it this far before even bringing up the whole point of college. This is also where it gets a little more complicated and changed up, so bear with me.

I don't do wants-based, again, so I generally just try to make sure sims are at least passing by default. Whether they go beyond a C is up to whatever. I usually try to get knowledge sims to their 4.0s or sims that just seem like they'd take it seriously to max GPA.

ACTIVE CLASSES ARE SUCH A LIFESAVER. You can use the pre-made lecture hall or make your own. Put some skill-building objects in there, and if you like flavor theme the lecture halls around majors. I have a business/gen ed building, a science lot, and an arts lot, each with two classrooms (plus the library contains a classroom). I do believe I made an edit to the mod to make the class performance go higher with active classes, as well, so attending class every day is the bare minimum to get a passing grade.

The active class lots also contain career reward skill-building objects. These are nice because your sims can request to be taught by other sims on the lot. If you have a mod that allows non-students to visit uni lots, this helps even more with faster skill-building.

Every day, I send groups of sims with similar majors to their class. If there's a mixed-major group, each sim group gets one day in active class per semester. (So if there's an economics major, a bio major, and an art major, each one attends class on a separate rotation and the others do the normal autonomous go-to-class where they leave the lot and disappear). They attend one or both of the lectures and otherwise exist on the college lot to skill-build, socialize, eat, etc.

Outside of class, sims will usually research if they're not doing great. I honestly barely bother with assignments or term papers unless the sim actually wants to do them or are aiming for a high GPA. Maybe they go hang out at the lounge or downtown to fool around. Maybe they just fester at home. Whatever they want.

*other gameplay/storytelling things: I usually will take advantage of the aspiration change after their sophomore year if I realize that their aspiration just doesn't really jive with how they act. It's realistic to me. They had many years since being like, 13 when they first had their aspiration selected. I'd like to implement more in the way of holidays/events, personally, but that's not really relevant either. I usually give them an outfit change as well, and I like to go hard with the idea that they're going through a bunch of weird fashion phases. You know you want to give them a mohawk, just for a few days, don't you? Dye their hair red? Shave it all off? Have fun with it.

All of these things combine for me, at least, to make the college years a lot more engaging/interesting and less of a slow "move to a dorm -> study -> read books -> meet needs -> graduate" loop. There's a lot more storyline development that comes from sims being able to enjoy their time as young adults, too, such as the regular polycule jealousy explosions and party fights. It serves to break up anything they had going on as teens and give them a little direction to enter adulthood with. This concludes my little mini-guide, feel free to steal all my gameplay style or just take inspiration if you please. Or ignore it all and shake your head and call me an idiot. do whatever you want forever.

[throneofsapphics]

track 32

Fenrys x Reader x Lorcan

Summary: Cursed to fall in love, only to have everything ripped away from you, moving on to your next life already feels like a drag, only things don't quite follow their usual patterns.

Warnings: discussions of death, Maeve, brief description of torture, happy ending

Word Count: 8077

A/N: the HAPPIEST of birthdays to @whisperingmidnights <3 I hope you have an amazing day (& thank you to @rowaelinsdaughter for your help)

You tumbled into your new body. Again. At least this time the Gods let you skip through the childhood years, instead flooding your mind with memories of your new past. You could only be a toddler so many times before truly losing the last grip on your sanity. 

You’d think so much pain and suffering would flood together, the lives all melting into one giant messed up pot but instead each experience remained distinctly painful to you. Distinctly full of suffering and sour memories. You, obviously, hadn’t survived a single one and your trek across the multiverse was written in blood. 

It took you up until life 15 to really stop holding onto so many grudges, especially considering you seemed to be destined to fall for the same people each time. Not the same types of people, but the actual same person. 

Whoever put a curse on you had been clever. If you were cursed, perhaps you were just really damn unlucky. But right now you needed a bath, a hot meal, and a good night’s rest. Of course you were drunk. Fresh in from a night out on the town with one of your friends, but you had good some good fortune in this life - your own apartment. 

Tossing clothes off as you walked, you beelined towards where you knew the bathing room was. You were pretty certain you’d stayed in this exact apartment building before, and if you remembered correctly each apartment had near identical layouts, the entire building cheap and designed for efficiency. In this life, you’d made it your own more than in the previous ones. 

You stepped into the tub, let the cold water hit your toes, partially sobering you, rivulets of now psycho-somatic grime and blood streaming from your body to pool in clear water at your feet. 

A mind healer would have a field day with you and you knew it all too well. 

Plugging the drain, you adjusted it to reach the perfect temperature. Yes, an efficiency building but still had hot running water. It was odd, but you didn’t question it - you were a creature of comfort after all. 

You wondered when you’d see them again. You wished you could say that tall of your interactions started off on a fresh beat, that you had it together enough not to judge them based on versions of them in a different universe, but you weren’t. 

Having it together? Maybe, certainly not on that level though. Having it together enough to appreciate their presence at this moment? Hell no. 

After last time. 

“We’re done,” he mumbled, not willing to make eye contact with you. 

“Then say it to my face,” you glanced between both of them. 

Heads down. Eyes downcast - first time you’d seen them like that. 

“Then I really meant that little, didn’t I?”

“No,” one said - you could barely distinguish who through the raging steam in your ears and tears down your cheeks. 

“Yes,” the other said. You didn’t know or care who said what. It didn’t matter. Later, just before the death took you you’d find out who made them do it and realize it still didn’t matter. She may have forced them to lie, but they didn’t have to be quite so convincing. 31 lives had taught you logic had no place in heartbreak. 

The memory hit you like a physical blow to the chest, a stinging and pressure left in its wake. That heartbreak had killed you the quickest of them all. 

Three days. 

It was part of your curse, you’d figured out. To always know. What life you were on, the details of your past lives, how long it took you to do, what the death felt like, every little detail was committed to memory all because you’d dared to love someone a little too much, and ended up stealing them away from a wicked witch. 

Well, the story didn’t go quite like that but you thought it sounded better in your head that way. In reality, you’d fallen in love and done something stupid, as all people in love do from time to time. 

You and Lorcan had agreed you should try to get Fenrys out, that although it would be more difficult to get him released, Fenrys needed it more. You didn’t have the guts to tell him you needed both of them like you needed air, but there hadn’t been time for that. All of your moments were stolen and borrowed time. 

“Will you please release him from your service?” You were on your knees, begging. “Please, Majesty.” 

The harsh flooring dug into your knees but you kept the same subservient pose. For someone with so much pride, this was humiliating and your Queen knew it. 

“No.” 

One flat and toneless word. 

“No?” You repeated. 

Wicked red lips curved into a smile. “That is what I said.” 

You had several choice words for her after, and she’d responded with a fucking curse. Cursed to always love, but to never have it stick, cursed to die from heartbreak. 

Even after all of these lives the word ‘curse’ was still ugly in your mouth, still made your stomach heave and back seize at the memories. The times you’ve run into the Queen she hadn’t recognized you, but you knew she was still untouchable. Frequently made that way by the ones you loved. 

The breeze sneaking through the poorly insulated window highlighted how water already chilled around you. You didn’t miss that part of this building, the tub held next to no heat and your bathwater always ended up cold in less than fifteen minutes. 

You were tempted to stay still and prune, but there was no use in it. A new life, new things to do. 

Dragging yourself out of the tub, you dried off as efficiently as you could make yourself, scrounged up some comfortable clothes and headed to your desk. Grabbing a notepad and pen, you began writing. 

number thirty-one. 

It was a ritual of sorts, perhaps your imaginary mind healer would be proud of you for it, for getting all of your pain out on paper as soon as possible. 

Right before you burned it. 

Tossing the five sheets of paper on the flames felt good.

Running into them happened far too quickly for your liking. It always did. Life always started and finished too damn fast. 

You glanced in the mirror, at what you’d chosen to wear for the night out with your not-really-new friends. The dress fit you perfectly, and showed just enough to leave you feeling bold without being uncomfortable. The gold wrapped around your wrists helped too. Not too much to look rob worthy, but enough to make you feel like some extra type of sheen was thrown over you. Maybe, just maybe this life would bring you a little luck. Was gold supposed to be good luck? You didn’t know, but maybe you’d figure out how to look it up later. If you remembered to. 

You felt something warm in your chest, not unlike the flush from the first sip of whiskey. Closing your eyes you could’ve sworn it tugged, dragged you towards another. 

No, not in this or any life. It wasn’t possible. 

No matter how many times you fell in love and in how many ways, you’d never found a mate and were convinced you were destined not to. 31 lives was enough time to find a mate, a life partner. You should’ve had that done in by life 10. 

It was funny, how you’d started measuring your existence in lives rather than years. After all, it fit your circumstances. Permanently destined to be a temporary existence in others lives, and for their existence and influence to end yours. If there was a way out of this, a stopping or breaking of the curse you figured you would’ve found it by now. 

A loud pounding on the door and you hissed as the brush slipped, you barely moving your wrist away in time to save your face from a large black streak. 

“Gods,” you yelled, “hold on a damn moment.” 

“We’re going to miss the bard,” someone - Ella? Yes, Ella, shouted back. 

“Alright,” you groused loud enough for her to hear, “one moment.” 

One more swipe of kohl and you looked ready. A few deep breaths and you felt ready. 

Shoving the cosmetics to the back of the counter, you swung yourself around the doorway, grabbing your coat off the hook and flinging open the front door, finding your friend posed with their fist menacingly mid-air, probably about to break your door down. Memory clicked in, reminding you they can be a tad aggressive on a mission. 

Their mouth curved into a too-satisfied smirk, probably that their threats had work. Rolling your eyes, you shoved past them into the hall, quickly locking your door. 

“Anyone else for tonight?” 

“Just us,” they looped their arm through yours and started for the stairs. 

Ugh. Last time in this building you’d been on the ground floor, and you’d definitely miss the convenience of that, but at least you had a pretty balcony view here. It’s all give and take, you supposed. 

“Copper for your thoughts?” Ella’s voice interrupted you. 

How long had you zoned out? Was that a habit in this lifetime? You couldn’t remember. 

“Do I really look that broke?” You deflected. 

It worked, she laughed. Maybe it would’ve been nice if she pushed a little. 

-

Fenrys breathed in the fresh air. Maeve had sent him on a mission. Alone. Staking out Varese for several months, observing, but she didn’t exactly tell him what to look for. It was perhaps the most exciting and infuriating mission he’d been assigned. Infuriating, because he truly had no idea what in Hellas’s name he was supposed to do, exciting because he had months to spend doing whatever he thought ‘observing’ looked like. 

Yes, he knew it was a mockery of freedom but right now he’d take the gods-damned mockery over what he’s stuck in every day. 

Walking through the street, although he stuck to the shadows, unnoticed to the masses, it still felt like each face was sent there to tease him, remind him of the invisible leash tying him to that bitch for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how Lorcan, the bastard, did it with such glee and joy. At least Whitethorn had shown a measure of discontent at some point, he’d even seen a hint of it on perfectly loyal Gavriel’s face. 

Something caught his attention. Someone. 

Arm in arm with your friend, strolling down the street, exuding pure confidence. Someone aware of their place in this world and what they meant to it. The light in your eyes matched his own. Dimmed, flaring when necessary and just enough to keep up appearances. 

Only a fellow fraud would recognize it. 

He had to follow. It was insanity, but he needed to see more of you. 

That’s how he ended up nursing a drink in the corner of the bar, shadows wreathed around him, cloak pulled up to cover his face. He matched some of the many body guards of nobles around, and through some blessing not a soul had recognized him or even shot him a second glance. Perhaps Friday’s were quite a popular night for the elite to pretend, that or he’d gotten better at blending in. He didn’t know which to put his money on. 

Someone, however, caught all of the attention - including his, even when he tried to ignore the magnetic attraction tugging him towards you. Throwing your head back in a laugh, you danced along with your friend, clothing absolutely sinful and fitting right in. He loved it. Every part of your energy felt like it was tugging at him, urging him closer, closer, closer, and he realized just how dangerous that made you. 

Dangerous to him, and to yourself through him. 

No matter what, she hung over him like a storm cloud. 

Anything he might try to pursue with you would end before it could truly began, love or relationship cut off at its knees without a chance to truly blossom. Did he actually want it to? Could Fenrys actually be that selfish? 

Yes, if it came to you. He glanced down at his pint. Still half full, and rather weak shit. He wasn’t drunk but still managed to think complete nonsense. Nothing could happen, but for now he supposed it couldn’t hurt to imagine a fantasy life with a stranger he’d never see again live in the corner of his mind, so long as it it stayed there. He was so, so wrong. 

-

Lorcan Salvaterre knew about sacrifice. In fact, he was an expert at it, at this point. But, every bit was worth it for her. His Queen. The only female he’d truly loved to the point where he’d do anything and everything. 

Perhaps other love could have come his way, but it had never been the right time. Timing, in his opinion, shouldn’t matter. He’d always make the time for Maeve, and everything he’d done since meeting her had been for her. When she ordered him away, he left. When she kept him by her side - but never her bed - he stayed. Maeve said jump, he asked how high. 

That's why Lorcan was trying to figure out when in Hellas he’d become so disillusioned, starting thinking things so unlike him. He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell anyone. Lorcan didn’t have any friends or confidants, that wasn’t something he dealt in. To him, there was no purpose in friends when his entire life’s purpose was bound by blood to servitude. 

The closest thing he had to friends was his blood brothers, and like hell he’d ever tell them of this ... treachery waging war inside of his mind. 

Lunch swirled unpleasantly in his stomach as he thought of the word. Treason. 

When Maeve called him to the throne room, when he knelt before her, he mentally prepared himself for his immortal life to end rather early. She must know. She always knows. 

Instead, he needed to figure out how he’d pissed her off because she’d sent him off for some kind of torturous punishment. Keeping an eye on Fenrys, currently loose in Varese. 

“Anything I should watch out for in particular, majesty?” He was quite proud of how he kept the bitterness from his tone. Or thought he did. 

“You’ll know if you see something off,” she dismissed him with a wave. “Consider it a vacation, of sorts.” 

Blood sworn didn’t get vacations, he wanted to protest. He didn’t want - or need one. Had he really been slacking that much? The journey would provide adequate time for reflection, for him to dissect and figure out exactly where he’d gone wrong so he could prevent those mistakes in the future. That was essential. This trip however, like most things with Fenrys, would probably turn out to be a complete waste of his time. Time that could be spent doing much better things. But ... he supposed if this is what his Queen wanted him to do, it was exactly what he’d be doing, regardless of his feelings on the subject. His feeling always had been, and always would be inconsequential.

He was here. Already. Fuck. 

It was day 2, and you couldn’t catch a break. Is there such thing as a resting life? One where you could go through without any relationships, just peace and enjoying your moments of solitude? No, not for someone like you. 

Running away from them never worked, they would haunt your every movement until they consumed every last bit of you and scattered crumbs on the wind, only for the crumbs to reform and drag you back towards them. 

Do you embrace fate or run away from it? It was inevitable, what was the point in fighting anymore? You were so tired of it. Exhaustion rippled from you in waves, you were surprised everyone around you hadn’t noticed as soon as you walked in. 

Even if you wanted to, Fate, in the form of the most gorgeous man to exist, all bronze skin, onyx eyes, and golden hair, didn’t give you a choice. He slid into the bar stool next to you. 

You didn’t smile, at first, but your traitorous heart warmed in his presence. 

“Have we met before?” He said, jokingly. 

If only he knew. 

“Maybe in your dreams,” you slid your hand across the bar and grabbed your glass, drinking deeply. He winced. 

“Am I that bad of company?” 

“You’ve been here for,” you glanced at the clock pointedly, “a minute. It has nothing to do with you.” You’d tried every approach in the past to get them to see if it would deter them enough for them to circumvent fate, but nothing worked. Each version of you was destined for tragedy with each version of them. 

“That’s fair enough,” Fenrys replied. You reminded yourself you didn’t know his name. 

“What do they call you?” The words came out, regardless of your internal wince, knowing you were setting him up for a ridiculous line. 

“In b-”

You held a hand up and his mouth clamped shut. “No, no, none of that.” 

He laughed, deep and rich, a sound you ... had you heard that laugh from him before? Perhaps not, at least not in a few lives. Recently things had been so depressing. 

“I like you,” he nudged you gently with his elbow, your heart ached. 

not again not again not again. 

‘Yes,’ a cruel voice from red lips whispered in your mind, ‘again, again, again. Forever. This is what you deserve.’

Someone cleared their throat. Fenrys. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, glancing at the bottom of your nearly empty glass. Empty. Fuck. You couldn’t handle this sober. Were you sober? Your friends were long gone, all found partners for the night while you nursed your worries at the bar. “What’s your name?” You took the last sip of your drink as the last syllable left your lips, ideally it could hide any signs of a lie from him. 

“Fenrys,” he leaned back enough in his stool to extend his arm to you, rather formally. When you placed your hand in his, intending to squeeze it to death, he deftly rearranged your hands and raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. “At your service.” 

“Charmer,” you rolled your eyes but softly pulled your hand away and replied with your name. 

He said your name quietly, extending the vowels, as if testing how it sounded on his tongue, how it might sound in other - 

You chided yourself, pulling your mind out of the gutter. With the situation you knew he was always in, that was the last thing you needed to be thinking about. Or that he needed to be. You might not escape him, but you certainly wouldn’t do anything to make this harder on yourself. At least thats what you’re saying now. 

“Last call,” the gruff barman said, scowling at Fenrys before shooting you a smile. Your mind rattled through details. Right, you regularly shut this tavern down and always left a good tip. 

You leaned over to Fenrys and whispered low so the other male couldn’t hear, “he’s easy to win over. A good tip, manners, and easy orders.” 

Fenrys hid his snort in his drink, draining the last droplets. “Thank you for the advice, love,” he whispered conspiratorially. Asshole. 

“Whatever,” you mumbled and left your usual amount, sliding off the stool. Just because you were fated to make each other’s lives hell didn’t mean you had to deal with him being rude. Maybe you were just sensitive. 

A ‘wait’ followed you but you ignored it. Inevitable.

He caught up to you on the street, calling your name again. 

Something else struck you. He was alone in Varese. When did this happen? This was odd. Out of all of your lifetimes nothing had followed this pattern, never meeting so quickly and certainly not with Fenrys on his own with his leash rather loose for what the bitch prefers. You needed to figure out more. 

“Want to come back to my place for a drink?” You said, slowly turning to look at him. 

If he was surprised by your quick change of tune, he didn’t say a thing, only nodding and linking your arms together. Like he’d been waiting for a friend. The pain in your chest was physical as much as it was emotional. 

-

Lorcan was here to keep an eye on Fenrys, and if that meant sitting in the shadows on a rooftop, peering through a beautiful female’s stupidly open window then so be it. You walked around and even acted like you didn’t give a damn whether you lived or died, but he could tell you were smart, based on how you’d handled Fenrys. 

He’d ended enough lives to have an appreciation for it, and the way you were so gods-damned careless with yours pissed him off. 

Lorcan should be questioning why his feelings towards you are so strong, but instead he’s observing every little detail of the interactions between you and Fenrys. For his report, of course. He always paid attention to detail, there was no other reason than being thorough. At least he kept telling himself that. 

It wasn’t because he liked the way your hair moved, or how you rolled your eyes frequently at his blood-sworn brother, followed by a barely there smile that he only noticed because the shadows danced around it, as if you repelled the darkness. 

Maybe you could repel the darkness in him. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Lorcan hadn’t drank, and even if he had he never entertained thoughts like this. 

Refocusing, he committed to memory every detail of what Fenrys was doing, how he reacted to you, how attached he might be and how you might already be used against him by his Queen. 

An unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach, tainting him. 

Guilt. 

He didn’t want to use you. 

But if it came to it, he wouldn't have a choice. He never really did. 

-

Fenrys whistled lowly on his way home, through the empty streets. Still aware of his surroundings, also aware that none would dare approach him - not with the steel and the stature he carried himself with, proof he knew how to use it. 

All he’d done is sit and talk with you for hours, in fact the dawn was currently beginning to crest over the city. Hours of sitting and talking felt like mere minutes with you, and he found he had more fun in that time than he had in years, perhaps decades, perhaps since entering Maeve’s service. 

It was sad, really, that you could only be a temporary fixture, for your own safety. 

Still, his mind rattled with ways to do the impossible, with how he could be with you forever without ... it was useless, really, to even ponder it. The false hope and ideas would only taint the present he had, for however long Maeve let him stay here in his ... his fantasy, he supposed. 

He could imagine many fantasies with you involved but the biggest was your friendship. The way you hadn’t hit on him, made any kind of sexual innuendos or advances, thats why he followed you out of the bar. Because you made him comfortable in a way nobody else had in so, so long. Like you’d been doing it for lifetimes. 

The scent hit him. The male wanted him to know he was there. His entire body stiffened, posture straightened slightly, pleasant after buzz from your intoxicating presence gone just like that. 

Lorcan Salvaterre. His commander. 

“Who was that?” Lorcan wasted no time and matched pace with him. 

“None of your business,” Fenrys snapped. Aware that he could be punished for it, but he didn’t care, he looked the male right in the eyes. 

Lorcan ... Lorcan didn’t push him. At all. Instead, something like understanding passed through his eyes. Had Lorcan needed to protect someone from Maeve before? 

Probably not. He was a cold hearted bastard through and through. 

“Keep her away,” the words were whispered on the wind - there and gone. Just like Lorcan, who melted into the shadows. 

Away from who? Lorcan didn’t say ‘keep away from her,’ and Fenrys knew everything the bastard did was intentional. 

Lorcan Salvaterre was here. You knew it, having caught the faintest hint of his unfortunately familiar scent, trailing after you like a hound. 

The fact that he was following you made you nervous. Yes, similar situations had occured before but everything about this time seemed so different that it filled you with mixed emotions. 

What are the odds there’s actually something good in store for you? Slim, you decided, based on history and reasoning, and you knew Lorcan Salvaterre stalking anyone was bad news, but especially for you when you had ... history with the Queen he so lovingly served.

Someone whose head deserved to be ripped right from her neck, you cast the thought into the universe and hoped it landed, hoped she felt a phantom prick in the side of her neck. 

Maybe she regretted cursing you to some kind of eternal half existence, always in and out of different worlds. Doubtful. More likely she tired of whatever game she decided to play for you and set the person who she knew would hurt the most to kill you. Even you could admit you were extrapolating. 

Maybe an attitude change could fix everything. A tad less drama. 

You glanced out the window, at the rain currently pouring down, at the moisture leaking into your apartment. The weather certainly didn’t match up for life changes, if anything it read of staying right where you were. 

Accepting it wouldn’t happen today, you saved the attitude change for the next sunny day. Those practically screamed change in fortune. Or you hoped they did. 

A week passed. You saw Fenrys each night at the Tavern, and scented a weirdly careless Lorcan on your trail each day. 

Your attitude may not have changed with the next bout of sunshine, but you had a plan. It was rather simple, to somehow draw Lorcan out. However, there was a difference between having a plan and knowing how to execute it. You supposed that made your plan an idea more than anything. 

Fenrys had mentioned business meetings he’d be attending one night, and you decided that was the perfect to do it. The perfect night to pretend to get sloshed, and you had the help of your favorite barkeep. 

Knowing Lorcan, he probably had questions for you, and wouldn’t miss the opportunity to get some answers while your inhibitions were ‘lowered.’ Arrogant males like him wouldn’t let opportunities slide by, but Lorcan Salvaterre stayed Maeve’s commander for a reason, and you knew your acting skills had to be top notch to keep him from becoming suspicious. 

-

“When will you stop pretending to drink those?” Lorcan asked gruffly as he slid into the stool next to you, his hulking frame towering over the bar and casting a shadow over you. You were a good actress, but he was better, and caught on after the first couple of drinks and exchanged looks between you and the barkeep, who you were on very friendly terms with. 

The obsession with you, the flares of irrational anger when another man trailed too close, Lorcan knew what this was, and knew he was screwing both of you over with it. Fated for misery and doom, no matter how the cards played out. He’d be stuck with her, Lorcan noted how she was demoted in his mind, and you’d be ... free. 

All those years he’d spent making fun of those males now served to make him feel like a lot of an asshole because he gotit. There was a crack in his armor, a weakness in his resolve, and nobody knew about it. He intended to keep it that way until you were far, far away from him and his ... his Queen, and then as long as possible after that. His stomach clenched at the thought of what she might do to you in order to help keep him in line. Nothing good, and everything bad. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered primly, turning away from him. Why had he come over here again? 

He laughed, low and harshly. “Sure you don’t, sweetheart,” he exaggerated the last word - turning it into an insult. It didn’t feel right. His entire being flared against any insult to you, even coming from him. 

But ... the little flash of anger in your eyes, the way your nostrils flared, that was amusing. He liked the fire in you. “What did you call me?” 

He shrugged. 

You scoffed, muttering an insult he chose to ignore under your breath. “Nothing to say to that one?” You pushed when he didn’t answer, letting your elbow brush against his, “I thought it was creative. If you need me to I can keep going, there’s plenty where it came from.” 

“It was well done,” perhaps he wasn’t particularly in the mood to be insulted all night, and he got the sense you were more than capable of doing just that. 

“Well done,” you echoed, and he nodded. Your mouth curled into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. 

-

In the future, you might just deny it ever happened, but Lorcan Salvaterre ended up in your apartment that night. You ignored the fact that he seemed to know the way there. There had always been plenty you were willing to ignore when it came to that male, and that hadn’t changed over the last however many lives. 

Once Lorcan - once he’d found his Queen, you’d been second. But before that, he’d made you his everything. You never could blame him for leading you to beg Maeve that first time, that cursed time. 

Still, on the nights when you were alone, when the rain or a pretty mountain outline reminded you of him, when everything felt too much, it was easier to pin it on him, even if it made you a horrible person. Horrible, even for an ex-lover, but then again you were always an expert at self-depreciation. 

Looking at the male now, like a statue of a God carved from granite, you knew he’d be the death of you. Again. But how could you fight him? You never had the strength to in the past. Maybe you weren’t trying to survive hard enough ... 

Things had never moved this quickly in the past, they’d always been at a pace just slow enough to be torturous with your knowledge of your impending doom. 

Maybe this time you needed to really try. 

For Lorcan. For Fenrys. But mostly, for yourself. 

The door closed behind you and you slipped back into reality, into the new situation you found yourself in. 

“Drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading right for your kitchen. 

He caught your hand, spinning you back towards him. 

“I had something else in mind,” he said roughly, and dipped his head towards yours. 

You knew he could be patient, he could be gentle, he could be kind, but you got none of that now. 

His hand gripped your jaw, tight enough to keep you still but not harsh enough to hurt, his mouth moved fervently against yours as you matched his pace. It was the collision of a thousand stars, a world breaking and re-forming into something new and beautiful and wonderful. It was everything and more. It was the multiverse coming together into a single moment and screaming yes! this is what you were waiting for. He slowed, softened, as if some kind of guilt caught up with him. You wouldn’t have that. Couldn’t. You gripped the back of his hair and pulled him back closer to you, pressing your body against his. 

He would be yours for the night, but little did he know you‘d already been his for eternity. 

-

You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing, Fenrys reminded himself as he walked out of the bar, spotting you teasing Lorcan. He’d finished his business meetings early and thought he might see if you were still haunting your favorite spot at the bar. 

Still, he wanted to rush up to you and ask you if you knew who the hell you were tangling with but ... he supposed he was like Lorcan in that way, one of Maeve’s Blood Sworn, and to have two of them shown publicly taking an interest in you was nothing short of deadly and he refused to subject you to that. So Fenrys left. 

And hated himself for it, but self hatred was nothing new to him. 

Fenrys wasn’t sure how he found Lorcan’s rooms, considering the male probably didn’t want to be found right now. Probably wanted to bask in you. Your beauty, the time he sp-

He stopped himself from thinking of it. Even thought of shifting now, to a body where emotions were simpler and didn’t drain quite so much. Fenrys rarely shifted voluntarily when away from her, not after she kept him in that form so frequently. ‘Where he was easier to deal with,’ she’d said once, and the words still stung as His Majesty, he thought the words mockingly, intended for them to. 

The door swung open. 

Lorcan didn’t speak, just stood there with his arms crossed and jaw clenched. 

Fenrys felt young, and not in a good way. What was he? A jealous lover? Concerned friend? Idiot? 

Then it hit him. 

The scent. 

Yours. 

His. 

Entwined. 

Without him. 

Rage, pure and strong filled him. The scent was particular, and he’d seen it just a few times before. Lorcan, intelligently, had a shield around himself before Fenrys he was on the verge of some kind of burst. 

“Not fucking possible,” Fenrys backed away, “we can’t have the same mate.” 

Lorcan’s eyes widened, but he was looking beyond him. Fenrys whirled around. 

You. 

“I can’t have a mate,” you said quietly, desperately. “I never have before,” then to yourself, “it’s never been like this,” you switched your gaze to the window, he watched you try to angle your face so they couldn’t see the tears in your eyes but they were evident. Everything was evident when it came to you. 

“Get inside,” Lorcan said roughly to both of you. 

He had a point, it wasn't exactly the space for this conversation. A hallway where anyone could be walking by and overhear. That’s the last thing he wanted, anything that might put you in further danger. 

When he didn’t instantly move, Lorcan grabbed his shirt, tugging him inside. There was a knife at Lorcan’s throat before the male could blink. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” Fenrys hissed, slowly sliding the knife away and sheathing it at his side. 

He was surprised his commander hadn’t caught it, but then again he was staring at a pretty female in the hallway, your gaze still distant and fixed on the window. He called your name, just loud enough to carry across the distance. Your head snapped, you blinked a few times. He tilted his head towards the room. 

An over-exaggerated sigh, probably for their sake more than anything, and then you followed them inside. Each step seemed to make you shrink further into yourself, he noticed, that confidence and bravado fading and leaving someone vulnerable behind. 

It took a strong hand to tamp down on instincts rising, telling him to eliminate any immediate threats to you. The main one being Lorcan, but also any other males and possibly females in the vicinity. It was absolutely ridiculous, the way he was feeling even if he wasn’t acting on it. At least he hadn’t acted on it. Yet. If only because he was well aware it would piss you off. 

-

“What did you mean, ‘it’s never been like this?’” Lorcan asked and you read the skepticism in his eyes. Not quite distrust, but an interesting mix of confusion and concern. That had the potential to change quickly. Could you even speak about it or would you drop dead? You’d always assumed you couldn’t but ... 

“I’m cursed,” you started. They exchanged a brief glance, and for some reason that irritated you, but you kept going. “We’ve met before. Many times,” you knew that would grab and probably keep their attention, at least for a little while. You held a hand up when their brows furrowed in concern, “just hear me out before you write me off as crazy.” 

“I would never write you off,” Fenrys murmured, and you shot him a thankful look but he kept his mouth shut after that. Perhaps it had something to do with the glare on Lorcan’s face. 

The words were difficult. 

Each one felt stilted and awkward, but they watched and listened as if each word you said was pure gold and something about that made you feel powerful. They went through the emotions with you, although it was a tad more difficult to tell with Lorcan, but you struggled together in a way. For some reason, it started to feel like this might turn into a goodbye and you weren’t quite ready for that. After all, you didn’t know how anyone could stay with someone ... someone with the kind of tainted past you have. 

“Why would she do that?” You finished. It a was rare chance to ask two people who probably have more insight than any others into how the mind of the Queen works, not that you believe she’d let anyone truly understand her. 

“Cruelty,” Fenrys said. 

The same time as Lorcan said, “jealousy.” 

“Makes sense,” you huffed, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. It was stupid. 

“How do you end up reincarnated?” Lorcan asked. The question you were hoping to avoid. 

“I die.” 

“Of old age,” Fenrys said, but didn’t sound as if he believed it. 

“No,” you said sharply, exhaling. “You’ll laugh at me.” 

“Try me. Believe it or not, I don’t find your death very funny,” Fenrys said dryly. Lorcan was watching with apt attention, eyes watching you like a hawk. 

“Heartbreak,” you grunted, quickly whirling towards - fuck. You’d meant to look out the window, but saw the mirror instead and the twin faces of horror behind you struck something deep inside of your heart. 

“I -” your throat closed up, the words not quite getting out. 

“What is it?” Fenrys curled his fingers inward, and despite a slight internal cringe you let him beckon you, let him take your hands, let him give you this kind of comfort. 

“I wish you remembered,” you whispered, glancing at Lorcan too, who’s eyes and face told you, yes he knew you were changing the subject, and no the conversation was not over yet. 

-

“I don’t -,” Lorcan Salvaterre stumbled over his words, perhaps for the first time in his life, “I don’t mind making new memories, as long as they’re with you.” 

You beamed. Fenrys laughed. He debated how upset you would be if he killed the other male. 

Other male. 

He knew, already, that he’d have to share you. 

For you, Lorcan could and would make anything work. You were worth everything, absolutely everything. 

Maeve, a voice whispered in his mind. He pushed it down, ignored it for now. That was an ... his Queen would never be an issue, but a situation he could deal with at a later date. 

He swore to himself he’d never make fun of a mated male again. Technically he wasn’t mated yet, but he would be ... soon, he had to be. Being your mate felt like an irrevocably necessary part of his soul, like he might die without it, without having that bond with you to tether him to this world and give him meaning. Meaning he’d been lacking his entire life. 

He didn’t know or care if Fenrys felt the same way but he supposed he should. He had an obligation to his mate’s mate, after all, outside of the fact that Fenrys is his bloodsworn brother. 

Bloodsworn.

His bones and blood chilled. He couldn’t be yours, not really. The realization threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but he couldn’t cry, not here - not in front of you. You needed him strong. 

He stood, abruptly, but didn’t care. He jerked his chin to Fenrys. “We need to talk,” he let his eyes say the rest. 

He found he didn’t like how some of the shine left Fenrys’s, how they dulled at the implication of their Queen’s existence. Too bad, for now. 

“Great. Secrets,” you muttered, and a slight smile threatened his lips, but you still waved them away. Perhaps you understood secrets better than anyone else. 

Lorcan led Fenrys to an adjacent room, and their shields went up at the same time. To keep any nosy females from overhearing. The more she knew, the more danger she was in. At least they were on the same page. 

“Where is safe for her?” Fenrys started. 

At least he had his priorities straight. 

“Antica,” Lorcan answered. Maeve didn’t dare touch the southern continent, yet. “For now,” he added for honesty’s sake. “The curse won’t break until Maeve is ...” He didn’t, couldn’t bring himself to, speak the words out loud, it felt too much like treason. 

“Dead,” Fenrys said for him. He had no problem with it, apparently. If Lorcan had been as insolent as the male in front of him, he would’ve been put to death long ago, and he knew that. Perhaps Fenrys didn’t, but it wasn’t the time for that conversation. “So we spirit her away, and then what? How do we keep her from dying?” 

“A blood promise.” 

“Like what?” Fenrys leaned back against the wall, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

“When the curse is broken, we will find her.” 

Antica. Hot, miserable, mate-less Antica. In truth, it wasn’t that miserable, but you'd be enjoying yourself a lot more if your mates hadn’t shipped you off here as quickly as they could. 

All in the name of keeping you ‘safe,’ you grimaced in the mirror, brushing down your hair, now frizzy slightly from the rare rain that breezed in the day before. They're and gone like a phantom, almost. Almost like their presences in your life. 

You could still remember their touches from that last night, firm but gentle, still tentative like new lovers can be. You thought you knew everything about their touch from the past, but even they kept some surprises across multi-verses, or maybe it had just been a while since it had been the three of you and your memory was getting poorer. 

Probably that. 

You pushed the door open, throwing yourself into the throng of people making their way to the one of the several monthly markets in the city. Throng of people, you thought. It was awfully busy. 

‘War,’

‘Sending us-’

‘Saved the princess,’

‘Foreign lord.’ 

The whispers hit your ears one by one like a drum. A war. Against who?

You stopped casually at the closest table, and sure enough the seller was chittering to the person who came before you about it. A war, and the khaganate would be marching for Aelin Galathynius. 

You rolled the name over on your tongue, it being vaguely familiar. Perhaps you should have kept up more with politics throughout the ages, you probably could’ve made a load of money betting, but that felt a tad too immoral, and you did fear the judgement of your own conscience. 

As soon as the intrigue was there, it was gone. You’d heard of several wars over the last two decades, the longest you'd lived so far, and none of them had brought your mates back to you. You seriously doubted this would be the one. 

You refused to acknowledge the ugly truth. They’d probably already forgotten about you. 

-

In the lonely and mindless hours stuck in his Wolf form, Fenrys thought of the beautiful female in Antica, and dreamed of a life without Maeve, however impossible it was he never stopped hoping.

The female screamed on the table in front of him, but he was frozen in time and space. All he could do right now was bear witness to the horrible crime in front of him. Aelin Galathynius deserved someone to bear witness to her pain and her strength. 

The female who should’ve been his Queen, and the female who was his mate had so much in common. Not necessarily appearance, but your attitude and the way you carried themselves. So much that being with her for those months had felt like an even larger blessing. It wasn’t infidelity, not by any means, but perhaps a bit wrong he was using Aelin as a proxy for you. 

The screams in front of him distracted him from his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. She’d passed out, he was waking her with some foul smelling cloth. Each day, he thought he’d reached the limits of what he could bear without closing his eyes, but somehow - because he knew you would do it - he managed to watch. Witness. Wait. It was all he could do now. 

- 

Lorcan Salvaterre knew he was a miserable male to be around, but traveling through Varese had turned him downright sour. At least internally. 

He knew he needed to get to Aelin, and he knew he needed to get to Fenrys. For the bond they shared with each other that they’d never told a soul about. If he didn’t get to him, you’d never ever forgive him. 

He might be too much off a coward to tell you, but he would know in his soul and that’s enough. He’d find Fenrys, get her away from him, do whatever it took. 

-

You woke up one morning with an unusual lightness, a ‘pep’ in your step, so to speak. You’d never understood that phrase until then, when you felt like all of your burdens and issues had been freed in a spare moment, like nothing could weigh you down right then. 

As usual, you got your gossip through the market, and it all made sense. 

Doranelle has a new Queen. 

Queen Maeve was killed in Terrasen. 

You were free. 

You tilted your head up towards the sky, and let the sun shine down on your face, not caring you were stopped in the middle of the park. From the corner of your eye you spotted an older woman copying your movements, not in a mocking way, but in a yes the sun is quite nice today way.

The flip side of your freedom meant your mates would be coming soon. They’d be coming soon. 

To Antica. 

To you. 

You scrambled back to your apartment to start packing. How long did it take to get from Terrasen here?

You paused halfway through throwing your closet onto your bed. 

A letter would’ve arrived by now, but you’d received no such thing. 

That night you fell asleep on top of your clothes. 

The next day you built the courage to put them away. 

You didn’t know where in the world they were now that Maeve is gone, and perhaps with the curse lifting they felt they no longer were obligated to be with you and love you, and maybe -

A familiar scent hit the same time as a knock on your door. 

You rushed to it, throwing it open finding ...

Both of them. Your mouth parted, words not quite leaving your lips. Finally, you managed a lame, “you came.” 

“We promised,” Lorcan said “Can we come in?” 

Yes, they obviously could, you swung the door wider and ushered them inside. 

“We came as soon as we could,” Fenrys promised. 

The silence was awkward for a few moments as the three of you tried to figure out how to navigate this. But, it was easy enough to break as you threw yourself at both of them, managing to catch each of them in a hug at the same time. 

“I forgot to tell you before I left,” you started, muffled in the shirts but knew they heard you. You’d memorized these words long ago. “I spent so long looking for all of the things that would kill me, I forgot the ones that made me feel alive. Both of you made me feel alive. Thank you.” 

[felixtrash469-blog]

Gen Narumi x F!Reader - Fakers

Gen Narumi x F!Reader (Y/N usage) 

5.5K words

Fluff, Smut, angst. 

Heading into the base proved to be nerve-wracking, more then initially thought. I stood looking towards it, head held high, proudly displaying my name badge and title;

‘(First name)(Last name) 

Fortitude researcher’

Hasegawa, vice Captain of the first division, stood at the entrance, awaiting my arrival. Hasegawa met me halfway between us before providing a formal greeting and welcome. Following him into the base, Hasegawa explained the layout of the building before providing me with the schedule of today's meeting. A small sigh escaped his lips when he spoke the name of the captain of the first division, offering an apology for what I might experience with him and asking me to not pass judgment on the rest of the team based off Captain Narumi, the first meeting scheduled.

Stopping in front of the two wooden doors, Hasegawa reached up and knocked rather harshly before calling out to the captain. When no answer was received, the look of irritation passed Hasegawa’s face and he pushed on the doors. The room was dark and smelled rather strong. Looking closer, there was wrappers and cans littered over the floor, Yamazon boxes created a wall between the view of the door and the presumed desk behind it. Off to the side was a messy bed and a couch filled with rubbish in front of a tv surrounded by consoles. Squinting my eyes to adjust to the dark room, I found a figure leaning against the boxes, hand-held console strewn to the side. The figure looked towards the door at the intrusion of light. I noticed his two-tone hair of black and silver creating a fringe just above his eyes. His eyes looked blood-shot, a range of reasons possible. 

“Hasegawa” The voice came out in more of a whine then a word. “Close the damn door, and while you’re here, lend me some money.” 

Hasegawa looked ready for murder. The man glared at man before walking over and picking up the man by his collar. 

“Is this the way you greet the new staff? I warned you (Last name) was arriving today. I sent you a text message, I woke you up. What more can I do? Have you even showered?” 

At the last comment, Hasegawa’s nose wrinkled at the, most likely, ripe smell that came from the man clad in gray sweatpants that had seen better days judging by the stains. 

“I don’t care for your work politics. I’ll meet them, when they prove themselves.”

With that, I leaned forward, giving a little wave of my hand and a false smile gracing my face. 

“Hasegawa, this seems to be a waste of your time and mine, shall we leave captain Narumi to wallow in the heap of sadness?”

Hasegawa dropped Narumi and made his way to me. He gave the captain one last look of disappointment, before shaking his head and closing the door. He started walking and I matched his strides. 

“Well, at least this base is interesting, much better then the sticklers from my previous division.”

Hasegawa hummed in agreeance at my comment about the 5th division. He came to a stop when we reached a staircase. 

“Up there is probably one of the best lunch spots in the whole base. It’s a rooftop with benches that overlook the ocean. The lunch room with bento boxes is around the corner. Head left and take a right at the second doorway. You have an hour left until your next meeting.I’ll meet you here at 10 minutes to.”

I watched a Hasegawa walked back down the hallway before following the directions to the lunch room. I reviewed the board of options for lunch. I had trouble deciding between two options. I settled on getting both and saving one for dinner.

I made my way up to the rooftop as directed by Hasegawa. The sun was harsh on my eyes when the door swung open. The salty wind from the ocean hit my nostrils, giving me a sense of peace. I stepped out and waited for my eyes to adjust to the natural light. Once they had adjusted, a range of smaller buildings leading towards the deep blue ocean greeted me. Sitting on the seat and opening my bento box, I watched as the waves lapped at the vibrant yellow sand. The bustle of Tokyo faded into the background as I ate. I thought over my father, the reason I moved to this division. I thought about how I had to see him while I still had the chance before his illness took hold of him.

Interrupting my thoughts, the door behind me opened with a loud bang as if someone had kicked it open. I swung my head around and was greeted with captain Narumi. He deeply frowned up at the sun and used a hand to shield his eyes from the barrage of rays being emitted his way. Narumi released a sigh before noticing my presence. He froze for a moment before making his way to me. He sat on the bench beside me, his deep breathing only just reaching my ears. It was both awkward to be here with him, not talking but it also still remained peaceful as we both peered at the view. 

The peace was broken by his stomach rumbling loudly. I looked over to him, the tips of his ears red in embarrassment.

“I apologise, I’m usually here alone and the smell of the bento box made me hungry.”

I looked down at my spare bento box before extending my hand in his direction, holding out lunch. 

“Take it, I couldn’t decide between the two and got a spare anyway.”

Narumi hesitated for a little before taking the box out of my hand, opening it and smelling deeply. I licked the saltiness of the wind off my lips before speaking again.

“Is there a reason you didn’t bring lunch if you were hungry?”

“I spent all my money on the limited edition figure that came out this month.”

“That’s why you asked Hasegawa to lend you money?”

“It’s only until next week when we get paid again!”

“Instead of borrowing it, how about I provide you a way to earn it?”

Narumi’s head snapped in my direction as he eyed me suspiciously.

“I need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend every now and then. I’ll pay you well, we don’t have to do anything inappropriate and we won’t be working directly together. Look, my name badge says fortitude researcher. I work in the lab and find out the reason for the fluctuations in fortitude from the Kaiju. Just think about it, if you agree, I’ll give you more details. Swing by my office if you want to take me up on it.”

Narumi continued to stare at me, I assumed mulling over my proposition. I packed up my rubbish before waving a farewell and leaving him to his thoughts. 

I sat in my office in the lab, decompressing from all the meetings. I sunk a little more in my chair sighing. A small knock at my open door was the only thing that brought my eyes to open.

“I feel the same after meetings, they’re really bad, huh?”

The two-toned captain looked in my direction, gesturing to my posture. 

“I guess you could say that, what brings you to my office at this hour?”

The clock ticked beside his head, showing 9 pm.  

“I want to know more information.” Narumi shut the door and pulled out the seat across from me.

“First of all, everything that is said here is confidential. I don’t want other staff knowing about this. As for the role, I need you to come with me to visit my father and pretend to be my boyfriend. If he likes you, it will most likely be a weekly thing, if he doesn’t, it will be monthly. I’ll pay you $100 a night and I’ll make your lunch every day so that you don’t starve in the meanwhile. I’ll need you to act affectionately, possibly having your arm around me, holding my hand and in moments, kiss my forehead or cheek, all though those will be limited. If this is too much, please let me know now. Otherwise, do you have any questions?”

“Why do you need to hire someone to do this?”

“My father believes that I have a partner and he wants to meet him. I need to hire someone to act lovey-dovey with me.”

“Why don’t you just get a boyfriend?”

“My father is ill and doesn’t have the time for me to go out and fall in love.”

“Why did you choose me?”

“You seemed driven by money and not much else from my first impression, so I’m assuming you will keep this strictly business like I want to.”

“Why does your father think you have a partner?”

“That question is off limits.”

“One last one, when do we start?”

“Two days from now. Be ready at 5pm and meet out the front of my office. We’ll head to my father’s house from there.”

“I look forward to doing business with you.”

We shook hands before Narumi left. I sighed as I sunk back into my chair. Pulling out my phone, I messaged my father to let him know that my partner would be joining us for dinner. I hoped that all went smoothly before getting up to go to my dorm to cook lunch for both Narumi and I for the next day. 

The next two days were uneventful, filled with work, only seeing Narumi when handing him lunch. When 5 pm rolled around, Narumi was outside my door, dressed in a fresh pair of black skinny jeans and a tight fitting blue shirt. His hair was slicked up, the same way I had seen him on TV so many times. He smelled of spiced apple and the smallest hint of fresh mint when he greeted me. I was impressed with how well he cleaned up. I watched him giving me a once over, taking in my cream knitted shirt and faded jeans. 

“Are we going to your old mans house now?”

I nodded, closing my office door behind me and walking towards the exit of the base. We reached my father’s house, giving a soft knock. I braced myself, hearing his footsteps approaching the door, remembering the excitement he was buzzing with over text message. The door flung open and I was greeted with my father’s exhausted face. He looked worn down and exhausted, a clear sign of his illness besting him these days. He reached out to hug me, welcoming me in, before extending a hand to Narumi for him to shake. 

“Welcome to my home son, come in.”

Narumi stepped in after me, my father closing the door behind both of us. I led us down the hallway to the dinning room. I took a seat, Narumi mimicking my actions beside me and my father sitting across from both of us. Small talks of how everyone was exchanged, with my father frequently looking over at Narumi. 

“I think I might go get started on dinner, Gen, dad, are you two okay to get acquainted while I cook?”

I received a nod from both as I rounded the corner. I could hear the conversation start. 

“So son, what’s your name?”

“Gen Narumi, Gen is written with the Kanji for string and Narumi is made up of the characters Naru for ringing and Mi for ocean. Should I refer to you Mr (Last name)?”

“Please, (Dad’s first name) is fine. Say, are you the one I always see on TV with the Kaiju?”

“That would be me, yes.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect my daughter to be able to bag a big shot like you! Honestly, she rarely tells me anything about you. I would hear that she went out with her partner every now and again but when she stopped mentioning you a month ago, I just assumed you had broken up. I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

“I’m sorry to shock you like that sir, I promise we’re still going as strong as we previously were.”

“So, after three years of avoiding me, I assume you’re here to ask for my daughter's hand in marriage?”

“Dad! Stop freaking him out. I told you he is always busy with work.”

I could hear my dad’s laughter echo throughout the house. Dad and Narumi continued a light-hearted conversation about work, hobbies and interests while we ate dinner. At the end of the night, my father hugged us both, asking Narumi to not be a stranger and arranging for us to meet up again next week. 

Narumi and I walked back to base in the brisk night. 

“Your dad is really nice.”

“Yeah, he’s always been really friendly but I think he’s extremely happy to finally meet a partner of mine.”

“He said three years, did you have a partner of two years that refused to meet him?”

“That depends, are you wanting to continue this arrangement?”

“I plan to continue, I already spent the $100 you gave me on Yamazon. I also think it’s good for your dad.”

“I appreciate that. I did have a partner, we were together for just over three years. He never met my dad once.”

“Why not?”

“He said he wasn’t ready to meet parents yet. Apparently it would make it too serious.”

“Too serious? After three years? What a jerk.”

“Says the arrogant man that didn’t want to know me until I was offering him money.”

Narumi laughed beside me as I nudged his side. The rest of the walk was filled with Narumi discussing his current game he was invested in. 

The following days were filled with my dad texting me about how much he liked Narumi and wished he met him sooner. I passed on the messages when I handed Narumi his lunch. We slowly got closer, having inside jokes based off what my dad said, spending a night gaming together over online platforms and eating on the rooftop together when the days were especially nice. 

The weeks came and went. Narumi grew closer to my father and I. The visits became more frequent but Narumi rejected me paying him more, offering a gaming night in exchange for spending time with my father. I could see their happiness grow with each visit together, my father would muster up all his energy just to spend time with Narumi. His smile would grow even more when we would show up with hands held together. He would pretend not to notice each time Narumi’s arm snaked its way around my waist when we all stood talking in the kitchen or the way he would kiss my forehead each time he took the dishes from the table to the sink. I knew my father would pretend not to notice but the way he’d glance in my direction after with a soft smile made me know that he approved. It gave warmth to my heart seeing the little twinkle in the corner of his eye. 

I tried to pay no mind to how the warmth would fade on the way home when Narumi would drop his hand from mine. I constantly reminded myself how this was just a business transaction. I would never again get involved with someone from any division, but especially not my current assigned one. I just needed to play happy couple for my father. I could grin and bear it all for my father.

On an unimportant Wednesday, I received a message from my father, asking me and Narumi to visit. I received confirmation from Narumi that he could attend after work. 

We arrived, hand in hand to my father’s place. When my father opened the door, I could see that today was a particularly bad day for him. We both greeted him before making our way to the dinning room. I went to sit down, when my father gave me a look that was almost pleading and nodded towards the kitchen. He wanted to speak to Narumi alone, it made me extremely nervous. Never-the-less, I announced I was going to the kitchen, receiving a small peck on the forehead from Narumi and making my way. 

When in the kitchen, I started preparing dinner, straining my ears in the meanwhile to try to get the gist of the conversation. I stopped when I heard my father talk about how he didn’t have much time left. It was too much to listen to, I instead focused on cutting the vegetables. 

Dinner was mostly filled by light-hearted conversation between Narumi and my father. Narumi did the dishes in the end before we went back to base together, wishing a farewell to my father. On the way back, Narumi didn’t release my hand this time. He held my hand tighter each time I tried to pull away. Finally looking up at him, I could see his eyes avoid mine. 

“Come game in my room tonight. I’ll get us both a day off tomorrow.” 

I felt my heart rate pick up. Game? In his room? No one else but the two of us? I couldn’t say anything, in fear that my voice would crack, instead opting for a nod to show my agreement. 

Reaching back to base, I quickly ducked to my room to shower, put on some more comfortable clothes and grabbing my console before making my way to Narumi’s room. I glanced at the doors before gently knocking with my free hand. Narumi opened the door, still in his jeans and shirt from the night, his hair still slicked back. Narumi stood to the side, welcoming me into the room. 

Instead of showering, Narumi had made a blanket fort for us on his couch, in front of the TV. He grabbed my free hand in his and lead me over to the couch, sitting us both down. I couldn’t help but notice the proximity between us. I felt my leg pressed against his, his arm behind my shoulders and resting on the couch. I could clearly smell the intoxicating scent of his spiced apple cologne. I could feel the tips of my ears heat up and held my breath to slow down my heart rate. 

“I know you brought your console, but I have two controllers, I thought maybe we could play a two player game?”

I nodded and placed my console on the ground. Narumi got up to get both controllers and I felt an almost longing at his warmth being removed. Narumi sat a little more away when he brought back the controllers, handing one my way. I spared a glance at him before flicking my eyes to the TV. Narumi pressed start on the game after I had curled up comfortably on the couch. Narumi continued to sit up, leaning forward when he was losing and the game got intense. I could see him shift his eyes on me for a moment when I was really invested in the game. 

“You remember how your old man spoke to me tonight?”

“Yeah, what was that about?”

“He told me a bit about his illness. He explained what it was and that the doctor’s suspect he might not have long left, as you already know.”

“Oh. I’m sorry he’s told you that. I know this is business for you.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Anyway, he said that he could see that you really love me. He also said he really approves of our relationship.”

“Pfft, that old man, he doesn’t know what he’s seeing anymore.”

“Regardless of that, he gave me something.”

“Something?”

Narumi paused the game, pulling something out of his pocket. Now that I was looking at him, the awkwardness became apparent again. When I could finally see what was in his hand, I didn’t know what to say.

“He asked me not to leave you. He gave me the ring he gave your mum so that I could propose to you. It doesn’t feel right for me to hold on to this.”

Narumi reached the ring out to me. I slowly took the ring from his hands. I looked over it multiple times, admiring the shine of the ring in the TV light. Without realising, a tear rolled down my cheek at the look of the ring. I didn’t notice until I saw Narumi reaching over. His thumb wiped the tear off my cheek. I flushed, realising how he was leaning over me. One hand of his held his weight, while the other still rested on my cheek. His face was mere inches from mine and his body was so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him. I stopped moving, his eyes flickered to mine. I could see the small details of Narumi now. The red in his eyes was vibrant, the slim show of black hair that came through his silver undertone, the light dryness of his pink lips. My breath hitched. God how I wanted to kiss him. How I wanted to feel his body heat warming me as his hand caressed my face.

“You’re staring.”

I gulp slightly, now more aware of all the things I could feel. The ring burned in my hand as I thought about Narumi. I just kept staring at him, watching his eyes shift over me, hoping he couldn’t hear my heartbeat. 

As if in slow motion, Narumi dipped his head until his lips met mine. The kiss made the butterflies in my stomach go mad and my head feel dizzy. Narumi didn’t break the kiss, instead he attempted to open my mouth to let him in. I slowly parted my lips, letting Narumi explore. When he pulled away, his face was close enough for me to feel his breath fanning my face. His eyes searched mine for hesitation. When he found none, he sat up and pulled my arms with him so I sat up as well. 

He leaned more into me, connecting our lips again. Nothing else was there in the moment but the pure giddy I felt to finally be kissing the captain of the first division. Until it clicked. The captain. Of the first division. 

I pushed Narumi away abruptly. He gave me a look of confusion, not understanding what the difference between now and a moment ago was. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed it.” Narumi looked to the side, almost ashamed of himself.

“No, it’s not that I don't want to. Trust me, I really really want to. I just can’t. I promised myself i wouldn’t. 

Narumi refused to look my way. I took it as a sign that my time here has expired. I grabbed the ring and my console before leaving. I felt the sting of rejection and guilt. The guilt of feeling things only Narumi should be feeling. I cried myself to sleep that night, everything of the day being too overwhelming. 

For the next month, Narumi avoided me. He didn’t answer any texts, was only in the same room as me for meetings and refused to answer the door when it was knocked on. I had no official reason to see him, so I didn’t get to apolgise. My father seemed increasingly concerned each time I came over without Narumi and the excuse of ‘work is busy’. My father didn’t push me though.

Another month marched on in a similar fashion. Narumi had still avoided me. I went through many emotions, upset, angry (He is acting like such a child), longing, anything to get me through the period of losing someone that became almost like a best friend. Someone I had let my feelings grow for. 

I sat in my office, the day done with work, when there was a knock at my door. I shot up, thinking it was Narumi. Hasegawa’s head popped through the door. 

“Can I steal a moment?”

“I have to say, work finished an hour ago, but sure.”

“I’m here in a personal capacity.”

My eyebrow raised at his statement and I gestured towards the seat in front of me. I waited for Hasegawa to speak. 

“Truthfully, I don’t know what went on between you and Captain Narumi, I don’t care to know either. But what I do know, is that for the past two months, Captain has been moping all the time. He acts strange whenever you walk past or your name is mentioned. In the past month as well, he has had me start to obtain things from your personnel file. I am telling you this, because I don’t believe he is obtaining these for professional purposes.”

“What types of things do these files that he can access obtain?”

“Previous employment records, length of employment, capability testing and your HR files, such as if you have needed to use our resources, why you left your last division, etc.”

I could feel my heart sink at the last sentence. Why I left my last division. The nightmare of the fifth division has plagued me since I left. 

“Thank you for your consideration, Hasegawa.”

“In exchange, please assure you aren’t too harsh on him when you patch things over. If you patch things over. Goodnight.”

I sat in my office after Hasegawa left, thinking over the previous division. The memory of my previous partner flashed in my mind. I shook away the thought, remembering would only hurt me. 

A further week went on without any word from Narumi. He continued to avoid me. It hurt each time I saw him in the halls, returning from a Kaiju execution. His crimson eyes glimmered in full display when his bangs were up each time I saw him brag about how well he had done. His eyes would dull, if they landed on me, the hurt of rejection showing with the wounds to his pride from our night alone. 

On a Friday, he had returned from a mission, bragging loudly in the halls about how a girl ran up to him to give him her number. He glowered with his team. When his eyes met mine, a small lift of his lips ensued. A smirk graced his face and a small flick of his wrist, brought my attention to the paper in between his fingers. I left the hall, deciding against saying anything to him. 

In the shower that night, I grew my determination. I got dressed and made my way to Narumi’s room. I knocked on the door before immediately opening it. Narumi stood in the middle of the room, towel hung around his waist, hair slicked up and dripping, his chest bare for the world to see. I felt my determination waive, seeing Narumi half naked. We stood, both staring in shock at each other. I broke myself out of my trance, closing the door behind me and walking up to him. 

“Gen Narumi, I know I hurt your feelings but do you care to explain why you’re decided to avoid me for TWO whole months?”

“You? Hurt my feelings? Don’t kid yourself. It was just a bit of fun and I didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date.”

“If it was just fun, then why did you poke around in my file. I know you want to know why I left division five.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Hasegawa ratted you out. He told me you were looking through my file.”

“That bastard. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes. It does. If it doesn’t matter, why avoid me? Why do you seem so angry now.”

“You want the truth?”

“Please, that's all I ask for.”

“You didn’t even give us a chance. You brought me into your life, you introduced me to your dad, you asked me to kiss you and hug you, you looked at me like I was someone special to you. But that wasn’t enough. You threw what we had away because of your stupid ex-boyfriend. Because he cheated on you, you believe we’re all going to do that or something? You think we’re all going to cheat and break up and turn the whole base against you. I’m mad because you didn’t even try to let me change your mind.”

I stared at Narumi for a little, unsure what to say. When I couldn’t find the strength to argue back, I stepped towards him until I was close enough to wrap my arms around his waist. 

“I’m sorry Gen. I should have thought about it. Will you give me the chance I failed to give you?”

I felt droplets of water fall on my head as he sighed. 

“Man, my date is going to be pissed I canceled.”

“You can go, I’ll stay here and save over your progress on your games.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook. You still need to prove you’re willing to give us a chance first.”

Narumi unwraps my arms, taking my hand in his again and pulling me to the couch. Narumi lays down, pulling me on top of him. He grabs the controller and puts on a show in the background. I sit myself up on his stomach, looking down. 

“Do you think you could maybe get dressed before we cuddle?”

“Why? Does seeing me this way turn you on?”

“And if it does?”

Narumi didn’t hesitate to grab the collar of my shirt and pull me down into a kiss.I felt his hand that he had previously placed on my waist, make its way under my shirt to grope me. Through the towel, I felt a slight poke on my thigh that was growing bigger by the second. When Narumi was fully erect, he broke the kiss.

“If it turns you on so much, then be my good girl and help me out.”

I nodded hungrily, getting off Narumi and kneeling on the ground in front of him. Narumi put one leg either side of me and allowed me to unwrap the towel that hung on his waist. When the towel was unwrapped, I gasped at the sight. Narumi seemed unbelievably hard, the vein on his length was prominent and the top leaked pre-cum from us kissing. 

I flattened my tongue and ran it across the head, tasting him. Following the same pattern, I took the head in my mouth, using my spit to lubricate his length as my head continued to go lower. I gripped my hand at the base of his shaft, moving my head while sucking. Before long, Narumi’s hand was gripping my hair, while whispering ‘oh fuck (first name)’ ‘god this feels so good’ ‘don’t stop’, followed by a round of guttural moans. When I could feel his grip tighten and his hips start to rock, I pulled away. Narumi looked down with disappointment, muttering about how I looked so good with his dick in my mouth. 

Narumi’s look of disappointment quickly changed when I stood up and slid my pants and underwear down. Narumi couldn’t stop staring as I did a small strip tease while taking off my shirt, Narumi pumping his length while I did so. I stumbled onto his lap. Narumi was quick to lean back, attempting to line himself up. When he was aligned, I slowly slid down, Narumi throwing his head back, moaning. I gently bounced on his lap while readjusting to fit him inside. When I started picking up speed, Narumi attacked my collarbones, leaving love bites and traces of himself. The closer Narumi got, the more dirty talk he would use, telling me how I was his good girl and he was the only one that is allowed or even could fuck me this good. My moans got louder when his thumb roughly started rubbing circles on my clit. The feel of his fingers tugging me to the edge while his length continuously hit my g-stop was too much, but I was unable to stop, chasing my high. I started to feel the coil in my stomach come undone and my head start to go fuzzy, I stopped riding as vigorously. Narumi took over, thrusting up into me, finally pushing the last part of me over the edge. I didn’t realise until i had come down from my high that Narumi had also reached his. I could feel him throbbing inside me and the hot liquid lining me. 

We stayed in the same position for a while, Narumi still inside me, while we rested. Eventually, we got up to clean up. Both heading to the shower together. 

“Hey (First name), now that I’ve dicked you down that good, will you let me take you on a date?”

“I’ll consider it when you apologise to my dad for not visiting him.”

We both started splashing water at each other, giggling while doing so. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard your laugh. I really missed you (First name).”

“I really missed you too Gen.”

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀

one / masterlist / wattpad

summary: as you adjust to your new life as the Commander's healer, you're forced to watch her fall in love with someone else.

warning/s: mentions of injuries, violence, graphic deaths, the usual stuff that comes with writing for the 100.

author's note: second and final part is here! sorry it’s a little delayed, it’s been a busy one lately! pray i get out of my writing funk bc i miss it so much 😭 anyway, i hope you enjoy this one, i didn’t know how to end it, warning you now lol. Also any mentions of Costia are completely made up based off what i could remember, plus i tried to keep her appearance as vague as possible as she’s technically not got a face claim lol. Enjoy!!

Lexa fell into the role of Commander as if it were her birthright, which I suppose in a way it was.

Nothing fazed her, not the meeting on meeting that filled her days, or the responsibilities now weighing on her shoulders, or even the expectations everyone in the city had for her to be as great a Commander as the last one. She took it all in her stride, performing her duties the best she could. I couldn't have been prouder.

Working with her only made things better for us, since I wasn't sure I'd have seen her as much if I didn't. She was always busy, but she always made time for me. Though she had Titus to go to for guidance, she would still confide in me, a habit I was sure would be difficult to break. I, of course, offered all the help I could. Leading was important to her and she was important to me. What more was there?

It didn't make a difference to me, but clearly Titus thought more of it than I realised. It was a few months into Lexa's new role when he thought to bring it up to me. I was bringing a tray of mine and Lexa's dinner to her quarters one evening, the two of us having planned to eat together, when I saw Titus approaching me in the hall.

"Y/N," he acknowledged with a curt nod and narrowed eyes. "May I speak with you?"

"Right now?" I asked, lifting a brow and glancing at the tray in my hand.

"It won't be long," he assured me, barely giving me chance to reply before he continued, "It's about you and Lexa."

"What about us?"

He seemed mildly irritated as he spoke, "I know that you're a big part of her life, but in the past, you've happened to keep your distance. Now that she's Heda, I expect it to stay that way. No distractions."

I furrowed my brows with confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't follow..."

He tensed his jaw, lowering his voice. "I'm not blind, Y/N. I see the way you care for her."

"Yeah, she's my best friend," I remind him, though a small part of me was nervous at what he was implying.

He wasn't stupid, instead rolling his eyes at my response. "Be sure to keep it that way."

I swallowed hard. "That all?"

"That's all," he said with a hint of annoyance, before walking past me.

My fingers gripped the tray with frustration as I kept walking to Lexa's room. How could he know of my feelings for her? I kept them well hidden for many reasons. And even so, what did he expect from Lexa? To never fall in love? Be married to her work? That was preposterous.

Admittedly, his words had more of an effect on me than I thought, rattling around my brain as I joined Lexa in her quarters.

"...are you alright?" she asked me after accepting her dinner. "You seem distracted."

I blinked, meeting her eyes. It would have been easy to tell her that Titus was being confrontational and rude for no reason. One word and she'd boot him out, no questions asked. But as much as I hated him, he was somewhat good for her, having guided the previous Commander too. Lexa couldn't do this alone, she needed someone with experience. Experience I didn't have. Stirring discontent between them would be for nothing other than a personal vendetta, and a worthless one at that.

No, I couldn't do that.

"Sorry, it's just been a long day," I lied, offering her a small smile. "Bit tired."

"Well, eat your dinner and you can go off to sleep," she said with a soft smile, patting my shoulder.

I nodded, putting her at ease enough for her to dig into her own dinner.

Truthfully, Titus had nothing to worry about. I was too cowardly to make a move anyway.

—

17 years old...

I should have known it would happen eventually. What was I to expect? That she'd stay single forever?

It didn't make it easier to deal with though, especially because the girl in question was absolutely lovely and I couldn't hate her for any reason other than she was with the girl I loved.

Lexa and I were returning to the Tower from a meeting she had at someone's house in the centre of the city when they met. It was a little busier than usual today because of some sales on produce nearby, so we were manoeuvring our way through the crowd. As we did, Lexa accidentally walked right into an oncoming girl, a bit too harshly than intended, and immediately went to apologise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I–" she started, steadying the stranger, but she stopped short when she looked up.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," the girl apologised, smiling softly, and then her eyes met Lexa's, animated and beautiful and captivating Lexa in an instant. "I should've watched where I was going."

I glanced at Lexa, who was entranced, expression softening and mouth slightly open.

"Who are you?" she asked without thinking. "I haven't see you here before."

"My name is Costia," the girl introduced herself, as captivated by Lexa as she was with her. "I'm from Floukru, but I moved here for a change."

Lexa smiled, putting out her forearm respectfully. "It's nice to meet you, Costia. I'm Lexa."

Costia returned her forearm shake, but then realisation crossed her expression. "Wait, Lexa as in Heda Lexa?"

She was about to kneel, but Lexa stopped her with a chuckle, certainly surprising me. She was already infatuated, it was obvious, and I felt uneasy.

"It's okay, there's no need for that," Lexa assured her with sparkling eyes.

Everything about the way she looked at her to the way she couldn't seem to remember I was even here irked me. She liked her, clearly, and I couldn't blame her. Costia was everything I wasn't. She had the complete opposite features to me, a delicate nature about her, and she wasn't afraid to make her attraction to Lexa obvious.

I gave them space, not that they noticed, and my suspicions were confirmed later that evening when Lexa gushed about her crush on this mystery girl, having asked her out when I left.

The jealousy was poisoning me, but I couldn't blame anyone except myself.

It didn't take long for them to officially get together, to my dismay. And because of this, it meant I spent less time with Lexa because she was spending most of her free time with Costia. Titus didn't take this new development any better than I, looking just as bitter as I felt, though for different reasons.

He made it known to me when we were both in the throne room one time, waiting on the side as Lexa had called us in for our counsel on something, but was first finishing her conversation with Costia. I avoided looking their way, resisting the urge to roll my eyes from nothing other than an innate and unfair jealousy. Titus, however, was glaring holes in their direction.

"I don't like this," he mumbled to me.

I sighed. "I bet."

At this, he tore his gaze from them to glare at me. "You weren't this bad."

"Gee, thanks."

He rolled his eyes. "Costia is going to be a massive distraction."

I glanced at him disapprovingly. "She won't. Lexa is happy. Leave her be."

As if annoyed that I didn't disapprove as he did, he scoffed quietly and crossed his arms, continuing to glare at them.

Unlike him, I couldn't hate on their relationship, not even because I was jealous. Costia was lovely, carefree, kind and she made Lexa happier than ever. Plus, she was nothing short of nice to me every time she saw me. How could I hate that?

—

I thought I was finally getting used to them together, but there were still times when I felt like I'd been replaced, as horribly selfish as it sounded.

With the intention of grabbing Lexa for a meeting, I let myself into her room as I always did, but realised she was sat on the bed and Costia was stood over her.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," I said awkwardly, unsure what I was even interrupting.

As I backed up to leave, Costia stepped to the side to reveal Lexa with war paint swiped across her eyes.

"Doesn't she look daring?" Costia said with a proud smile, paint in her hand.

Despite the bittersweet feeling of it all, I couldn't help but smile at Lexa. "Of course."

Lexa returned my smile and stood up, before saying to Costia, "It was actually Y/N who first put this on for me. When we were kids. And then it just... stuck."

The memory was as fresh as ever, leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth. Oh, how things had changed since then.

"You had the right idea," Costia told me sweetly, before looking to Lexa with adoration. "It looks great."

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. As they gazed at each other, I felt like a third wheel and decided to leave.

"What did you need, Y/N?" Lexa called before I could.

"Just grabbing you for the meeting, but I'll meet you in the throne room," I said nonchalantly.

She smiled, nodding. "Okay. See you in a minute."

Deflated, I left. Just another thing to get used to.

—

19 years old...

The scream was ear-piercing, strained with utter horror and ricocheting off the Tower walls. I woke with a fright, jumping out my skin. I didn't even need to be told – I knew who it was immediately and my heart squeezed into nothingness as I left my bed and hurried down the hall where Lexa's quarters were.

The guards that watched the halls were too slow for my liking, trailing behind me like lost lambs. I took the lead, concerned and confused and uneasy as I pushed her doors open. I feared what I'd find.

Lexa was who I saw first, on the floor in her nightgown as if she'd just gotten out of bed, leaning back on her hands and trembling so much I thought she'd shatter.

"Lexa!" I rushed to her side, kneeling down with worry. "What is it? What's wrong?"

In all my life, I'd never seen her afraid, not like this, and certainly not enough to elicit a scream like she had. What could it be?

I followed her tear-filled gaze, noticing a box at the foot of her bed. Reluctantly, I let go of her and approached the box, and it was a sight I'd never forget.

There sat Costia'a head, lifeless eyes forced open and fresh blood still staining her beheaded neck.

My hand came to my mouth immediately and I looked away, afraid I'd throw up if I didn't. I caught the glaring symbol on the inside of the box though – the symbol of Azgeda, Lexa's biggest enemy – and knew who was responsible.

The guards were just as taken aback as I was, freezing by the door when they noticed the head. Lexa's sobs pulled me from my momentary shock and I immediately looked to the guards with as much confidence as I could muster. They couldn't see their Commander falter like this, not if I could help it.

"What are you waiting for?!" I shouted at them. "Remove this now!" As they jumped at my words, and eventually into action, I continued, "And find out who broke in here last night! Up the security!"

They nodded frantically, carefully taking the box out of there and leaving Lexa and I alone. I returned to her side, where she was still staring at the spot where the box was, glassy eyes widened with horror.

"Lexa, I'm sorry," I said, pulling her in for a hug, hating the way she trembled. "I'm so sorry."

Her sobs were silenced in my shirt and she clutched me so tightly I was sure I'd have bruises, but I didn't care. I was still in utter shock, unable to believe Costia was dead at the hands of Azgeda. I knew we'd had tension with them for a while now, all because their queen didn't trust Lexa in power, but I never thought they'd stoop this low.

Costia deserved better... so did Lexa.

—

She wasn't the same after that. I couldn't blame her. Finding someone you loved, beheaded, at the foot of your bed? When you'd only just kissed them goodnight the night before? It was traumatising. Hell, it still haunted me!

We held a funeral, but Lexa didn't shed another tear after the morning she found her. She was much quieter, much more closed off, as if numb to the whole situation. Even when I visited her after the funeral, concerned for her well-being, she told me to leave. I didn't want to, but maybe space was what she needed, so I obeyed.

There were no leads on how the box was delivered, nor who delivered it. The guards were still searching, making enquiries, but it seemed futile. Horrifyingly enough, Costia's body was never found, so we could only burn the head. It was disgusting, the emotional warfare Azgeda were playing on Lexa.

Costia had nothing to do with any of this, she'd only been unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it was something Lexa never forgave herself for.

The girl I'd come to know as easygoing and full of life was gone, completely replaced by this shell of a person. At first, she was isolating herself from everyone, only throwing herself into her duties and responsibilities as Heda. It took a long several months for her to fully grieve Costia, for her to finally open up to me again, but she wasn't the same.

I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen her smile or laugh. It was as if her happiness had died with Costia and I understood why, but I hated seeing her like that.

We were in archery practice one day, the two of us sometimes training together like old times. I was growing tired, looking forward to when it would end so we could do something a little more fun.

"Do you wanna go for a swim after this?" I asked her, the idea coming to me at that moment. "In the lake, like we used to?"

She didn't spare a glance my way as she lined up her next shot. "I have more important matters to attend to, Y/N."

"C'mon, it'll be fun," I said encouragingly as she let the arrow fly through the air, finding the centre of the target with ease. "It's warm out and the lake will be refreshing."

"No," she said simply, going to collect her arrow.

I sighed quietly, watching her with a concerned gaze. Gently, I spoke, "Look, I know it's been hard, but I'm here for you and I think that, maybe, not working as hard might make this–"

"What?" she interrupted harshly, finally looking at me, though with a fiery glare. I jumped at volume of her voice, not expecting it. "Easier? How? How can it be easier when Azgeda are plotting to overthrow me every single day? How will a dip in the lake fix that?!"

I swallowed awkwardly, unsure what to say. It felt stupid now.

"We're not kids anymore," she reminded me with a sneer.

I frowned. "I know. Sorry. I don't mean–"

"You're forgiven," she cut me off, looking away with a clenched jaw. "End of discussion."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as she returned to her stance before the target, lining up another shot. And just like that, we were back to archery.

—

21 years old...

It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission. In and out of Azgeda's prison camps, rescuing our people and leaving before they'd even notice.

But everything went wrong when they caught us escaping.

Arrows were flying, swords were wielded and, in the midst of chaos, I saw that a few of our own were struck down. We needed to leave, fast.

Those of us who could mounted their horses, prisoners with them, and raced out of there whilst a few stayed back to buy us time. Lexa was one of them, mounting her horse and taking a few of Azgeda's soldiers out on the way. I was close behind, the last of our party to leave, and pushed my horse as fast as I could. Unfortunately for me, before I could even make it out of the snowy lands of Azgeda's territory, a loose arrow caught my horse's front leg and I went flying forward as a result.

The wind was knocked from me as I landed face first in the snow, the cold already seeping through my clothes and my whole body aching from the fall. But I couldn't stay put for long, already hearing someone on my tail.

It took me a lot of effort to push myself off the ground, finding my sword which had luckily not impaled me on the fall. As soon as I turned around, I saw one of the Azgeda prison guards hurtling towards me, his own sword raised as he let out a battle cry. I held my ground, grip tightening on my sword, and immediately blocked his swing as he came at me.

Luckily for me, my sword fighting had much improved over the years, mostly due to Lexa's constant need for training, and it aided me in this fight as I blocked every swing from my opponent. He was large and strong, albeit slow, so at my best opportunity, I parried his swing and used the power of it to go around him, stabbing him through the back.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I yanked my sword out, watching him collapse in the snow. My success was short lived however, as I heard barking from behind me and turned around a second too late. A wild dog – one of the ones the Azgeda army trained for battle – raced through the trees and leapt on me, going straight for my leg.

I screamed as its sharp teeth sunk right into my calf, at the orders of its owner who was approaching us but only watching as I struggled. Instinctively, I swung my sword, but the dog was merely inconvenienced, moving back to bark at me before leaping at me again. This time, I was knocked backwards into the snow, dropping my sword. It reattached its teeth to my leg, piercing flesh and bone and oblivious to my weak attempts at kicking it away. I felt like I couldn't breathe, the pain too strong to even acknowledge.

Suddenly, an arrow flew through the air, landing right in the dog's head and killing it instantly. It didn't matter to me though – my leg felt like it was in tatters and I was starting to see spots in my vision. Not even the cold of the snow was a bother to me anymore – I could have been dipped in fire at that moment and known no difference.

"Y/N!" someone shouted after me.

My people had returned, dismounting their horses as they fought off the Azgeda stragglers, including that wretched dog's owner.

Lexa was with them, having come back to my aid. She let her people deal with the remaining Azgeda soldiers, instead coming to my side with a concerned look. Her eyes glanced between me and my leg and, judging from her expression, it wasn't great.

"I need help over here!" she yelled to her solders.

Two members of our party rushed to my side, attempting to carry me, but even the slightest bit of movement had me screeching in agony.

"Be gentle!" Lexa ordered, and they were suddenly less rough. She took my hand, squeezing it gently. "You're gonna be okay. We're going home."

All I could manage was a weak nod, tears burning my eyes.

We must have made it back to Polis, though I couldn't be sure it was without disruption as I passed out not long after they placed me on a horse.

When I awoke, I recognised the healer's room at the Tower, though it felt strange being the one in the bed rather than the healer. I couldn't remember why I was here, still in a daze, and then I heard a sigh of relief and looked to my right to see Lexa standing up, touching my cheek with relief.

It was unusual seeing the tears down her cheeks and her red, puffy eyes staring down at me. She hadn't cried this much since Costia died years ago. Was I hurt that bad?

"What happened?" I asked tiredly, not quite adjusting to the aches and pains in my body.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," she said with a watery voice. "I should've got to you sooner."

Got to me sooner...?

And then it came back to me. Our people. Azgeda. The dog. My leg.

My eyes widened as I put Lexa's words together with what I remembered and then I was quick to try and sit up to see if my leg was okay, but Lexa tried to stop me.

"Y/N, just wait–"

"Let go!" I shouted, shoving her off long enough to finally see what I feared.

My lower left leg was gone. All that remained was a bloody, bandaged stump, ending at my knee. I could barely believe what I was looking at, eyes watering at the sight.

"It was the only way," she said regretfully. "It was badly infected and the bites were too deep. They couldn't save it."

Her words went in one ear and out the other. All I could see was the spot where my leg used to be.

"It's gone," I whispered, voice trembling.

Her hand rested on my shoulder gently. "Y/N..."

I touched my knee and then the spot after it, where my calf should've been. And then I felt something break inside of me and the tears finally fell.

Lexa sat beside me, pulling me into her chest and holding me tightly. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm here."

But it wasn't okay, was it? Nothing was okay.

—

The next few days were some of the hardest I'd endured.

Lexa stayed by my side the whole time, only leaving to bring me food or see the healers looking after me. I couldn't bear to look at her, nor my father, who stopped by regularly too.

Everything was so futile to me. Without my leg, I would never walk the same again. And how would I continue to be a combat medic if I couldn't even stand? How could I work at Lexa's side? I was useless. And I couldn't stand it.

My feelings left me in a pit of depression, my appetite gone and my will to recover completely absent. I couldn't see a future where I'd feel like myself again, and no matter who was there to support me, I refused their help.

I was sulking yet again, staring at the wall and soaking in my own misery since there was nothing else to do. Lexa had left to get me some food and, truthfully, I was glad. Her constant worrying and fretting at my side was doing nothing to help.

The logical part of me was grateful she cared, but the emotional part won over and I seriously hated having her around right now, not when I couldn't think straight about anything other than my missing leg.

My momentary peace was interrupted when Lexa returned, tray of food in hand which she set on the table beside my bed.

"It's time to eat something, Y/N," she said softly, hand resting on my hand, but I snatched it away.

Ignoring her, I continued to stare at the wall ahead, void of feeling.

"Y/N, please, you have to eat," she said, unfazed by my mood.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I purposely looked to the left, away from her, hoping she'd get the hint. Of course, she didn't.

"Don't be like that," she said, a little sterner this time, and it infuriated me because why couldn't I be like that? Who was she to tell me otherwise?

"I can do what I want," I snapped at her with a glare. "I'm not hungry, so just leave me alone already."

Her lips twitched into a slight frown, but she didn't move. "You're not going to get better if you don't eat," she said firmly.

"Get the damn hint and go away! I don't need your help!" I said bitterly.

She swallowed hard, green eyes flickering between mine with an unreadable expression, before leaving the room. I glared a hole into the space where she left, eyes burning with tears, and was overcome by an immediate guilt.

It was easier to push her away now, as much as it hurt to do so. At least this way she wouldn't notice how much of a burden I would become. Cripples had no place working under the Commander, best friend or not. And I wasn't sure I could handle being fazed out by Lexa in time.

Despite how awful the whole situation was, I couldn't bring it in myself to face her. She tried to return after my outburst, but I made sure Nyko refused her entry. I was surprised it worked, considering she was the Commander and could do whatever she wanted. She still found her way back in over the course of the next week, but I continued to ignore her, wanting her to lose interest on her own and stop visiting me.

I should have known trying to get Lexa to do anything was impossible though, as when she showed up once more, ignoring my request through Nyko to leave me alone, she had a whole speech prepared.

"I said I didn't want to see you,"  I mumbled tiredly upon noticing her walk in without warning.

She ignored me and stopped by my bed. "You don't get to request that."

I rolled my eyes, my usual self-deprecating attitude written all over my face. But unlike the past few weeks, she wasn't accepting it anymore.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she suddenly shouted, surprising me.

I finally looked to her, surprised to see her shooting me a fiery glare.

"I almost lost you, don't you see that?" she continued, giving me no chance to respond. "I watched you bleed all over the bed as they assessed the damage. Watched as you came to and from consciousness, as they cut off your leg. They thought you were going to die from the blood loss. And now you're okay and what? You're pushing me away?! For what? Pride?!"

I pressed my lips together, tensing my jaw, face hot with shame and self-pity.

"Well, I refuse," she said decisively. "I'm staying and you can't get rid of me. No matter how many times you try to tell Nyko."

Even as I closed my eyes, I could feel tears welling up. Why was she so stubborn?

Her voice cracked as she continued, "They're moving you back to your room tomorrow."

I looked away, unsure what to say, and then she took my hand between hers and I couldn't bring it in myself to pull away. Admittedly, I craved the comfort, though I didn't deserve it. Not after how I'd treated her.

"I'm not leaving your side," she repeated, less angry and more concerned.

It only reminded me why I was acting like this in the first place.

"For now," I said, voice hoarse.

She blinked. "What?"

Narrowing my eyes, I finally looked to her, speaking more clearly. "For now. You'll be here for now and then you'll get busy with Heda responsibilities, and then you'll realise I can't work with you anymore because I can't even walk. And then you'll get busier and busier and realise I'm just a damned burden and then you'll leave. And I won't blame you one bit, but it'll happen."

Her expression softened. "How can you say that?"

Embarrassed, I let go of her hand and wiped away a stray tear, looking away. "Because it's true. We're not kids anymore, remember? You don't owe me a thing."

"You're such a fool."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. How could she say that when she'd spent the last few years an emotionless wreck because of Costia's death, only ever putting her job first?

"No, you are," she disagreed. "You think I'd just push you away like that?"

"Yes," I said simply, looking down at my bed covers. "Love is weakness. Isn't that what you've been saying?"

"I thought that," she admitted, "but it's not. Not with you."

I rolled my eyes.

"I thought I lost you and I didn't," she said gently, considerately. "That's worth something. Because..." She paused, hesitant, then continued, "...because I'm in love with you."

She said it so nonchalantly that I had to truly digest her words, and even then I couldn't believe them.

With disbelief, I glanced at her. "What?"

She was trembling slightly, surprising me, and began to nod. Her eyes were glassy as they met mine. "I am. I can't lose you too."

For a moment, I saw the old Lexa, the one who I'd known most of my life, before Azgeda ruined her, and it broke my heart.

"Lexa...," I started, but didn't know what to say.

"You're not a burden," she told me with certainty. "Those one love never are."

I struggled to find words, heart beating exceptionally fast as she maintained eye contact. She loved me? After all this time, the girl I fell in love with loved me too? What?

"Please don't say I've ruined everything," she whispered, hopeless.

Remembering to move, I quickly shook my head, though my mind was still reeling. "You haven't. You–"

She cut me off with a kiss, pressing her lips to mine eagerly. She kissed me like she'd been waiting to forever, hands curling around my face and nose brushing against mine as she tilted her head to the side. I kissed her back, melting into her with ease and acutely aware of how perfect she felt against me.

I still couldn't catch up to what was happening, not even as she pulled back slightly, breathless and meeting my gaze. She didn't speak, as if waiting for my reaction before she could do anything.

"Are you sure?" was all I could say, stunned.

She nodded slowly.

I licked my lips. "Good. Because I'm in love with you too, Lexa."

Her lips curved into a small smile, eyes darting between mine, before she kissed me again.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 14

WIP Wednesday is happening this week! I would've had it up an hour or two ago, but I ended up having to run an emergency errand for my mom to keep her friend's car from being towed. But it's all been taken care of!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Note: Anyone who still doesn't know which episode I'm basing this arc on should know by the end of this segment. I did realize I made a mistake, though. The invading ghosts are Walker's guards. In the episode, up to this point the trio never refer to them as such. The audience, however, sees Walker send them in. I took that as Danny and co didn't realize they were Walker's people. But as I was going through minute-by-minute while writing, Danny does call them Walker's goons. So he knew the entire time. I'm adjusting that going forward and I'll retroactively make the edits before posting to AO3.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

Everyone left Sam’s house at the same time. The Amity crowd had to get to school and no one felt comfortable staying at Sam’s house while she wasn’t home. As they ate a quick breakfast, Tim noticed Conner’s fingernails were painted.

“Looks good, Kon,” he commented.

“Thanks,” said Sam. “I did them last night while you and Danny were sleeping. Introduced him to actual music, too.”

Conner grinned. “She’s promised to burn me some CDs before we go.”

“A mixed tape is the only valid way to share music,” Sam agreed. “And if he’s gonna rock the punk look, he should know the punk culture, too.”

Tim laughed. “Well, looks like we know what we’ll be listening to on the way home. Will you need a CD player, Kon?”

“Is my laptop not good enough?”

Tim clicked his tongue. “Come to Gotham with me. I know I have an old one lying around. Nothing like listening to a CD while lying somewhere, wired headphones tangling up as you shift position. If you want the authentic experience, that’s the only way to go.”

Conner shrugged, clearly unsure. “If you say so.”

Danny yawned. “You’re giving him Dumpty Humpty, right?”

Sam snorted. “Am I giving him Dumpty Humpty? Who do you think I am? Of course I am!”

“Good. You can’t introduce someone to good music and leave out Dumpty Humpty.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, you’ve gotten me into them. They’re fun. You’ll like them, Kon.”

“You played a song or two by them last night, right?” Conner asked.

Cassie nodded. “Yep. That’s who she was playing when Tucker, Bart, and I left to get some sleep in the other room.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s right. I liked them.”

“Of course you did,” said Sam as she flicked her hair. “I have excellent taste.”

Tucker was typing away on his PDA. “So what’ll you be doing while we’re in school?”

Tim grimaced. “I was thinking of hitting up the local library. We want to learn more about the ghosts. But also B has said that a condition of allowing me to extend my trip is that I keep up with my own schoolwork. So I have some catch up to do.”

Danny waved his spoon at him. “And you get on me for not doing my work.”

“Yeah, but you want to graduate and, like, go to college and shit. The stuff I want to do doesn’t require a diploma of any kind. B’s just making me do it because he society has convinced him it’s important.”

Tucker’s PDA alarm went off. “And that alarm means if we’re not out the door in five minutes, we’re gonna be late.”

Everyone groaned as they pushed away from the table and collected their belongings. The walk into town was filled with music discussion. Bart and Conner mostly listened and took note of recommended bands and musicians. Sam tended to know the most obscure stuff, but Tim knew some foreign bands from his time in Europe that no one else had heard of.

The walk was, thankfully, not disturbed by ghosts, but Danny’s ghost sense did go off several times.

“Didn’t your parents make a device that can track ghosts?” asked Tim the third time he complained. “Would that help you locate them?”

Danny hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe, I’ll have to see if I can find it. My parents stopped using it when it kept zeroing in on me. It was too loud for stealth use, though, and loudly went off anytime I was in range. And it didn’t work great for a 3D environment. So Tucker and I would have to develop a new display that can tell me if one is above or below me.”

“I should be able to help, too. You know how good I am with computers.”

“If I can find the device or blueprints, I’ll take you up on that.”

Not long after, they had to say goodbye at the entrance to Caspar High. Dash and his friends also arrived at about the same time. The group stared at Danny, but didn’t move to interact.

“Think they’re still overshadowed?” asked Conner, mirroring Tim’s thoughts.

“God, I hope not,” said Danny.

“But knowing our luck…” Sam trailed off.

Tim sighed. “Keep your distance as much as possible.”

“I know, mom.” Danny rolled his eyes. The school bell rang and he adjusted his backpack strap. “Gotta go. Have fun at the library.” His sarcasm was very evident and he hugged Tim.

The gesture surprised him and his return hug was slightly delayed. “I think I’ll find more than enough to amuse me there.”

With a quick goodbye, the trio rushed off before they could be late.

“So,” said Cassie, “Sam and Tucker seem to have a ton of ideas about you and Danny.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Danny and I only met in person less than forty-eight hours ago.”

Bart nudged him. “And yet you’re already sleeping in the same bed and giving each other goodbye hugs.”

“I do the same with you guys.” He pulled out his phone to check the location of the library. “Come on, let’s just get to the library. I want to see if they have a digital subscription to the local paper we can use.”

Tim didn’t get much schoolwork done that morning, but he did find out Danny was originally named Inviso-Bill by the press and immediately began planning ways to prank him with that knowledge.

For the rest, he compared what was reported vs what had actually happened with past ghost attacks. One thing was clear, Danny needed much better PR. Hopefully being seen working with the Young Justice would help. And maybe Sam would actually listen if he tried to give pointers on how to manage public perception.

Shortly after noon and before Tim could even pretend he was about to switch over to school work, his phone rang.

“Hey, Danny. What’s up?”

“Tim! Do any of you speak Esperanto?”

“Uh… I don’t. Let me ask Bart.” He lowered the phone to ask.

“Esperanto? What’s that?” asked Bart.

“I’ll explain later,” said Tim. Back into the phone, he added, “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s going on?”

“So… You remember that wolf ghost with the collar? Walker’s goons are after him, too. I’m not sure why since he only speaks Esperanto. I got him away from both them and my parents. Think you can keep him safe until school is out? If I miss any more class I’ll be grounded until graduation. Senior graduation.”

Tim gestured to his friends to pack everything up. “Yeah, sure. Where are you right now? I’ll have Bart meet you first and the rest of us will follow.”

Danny gave him directions to a forested area behind the school which Tim relayed to Bart. As soon as the group was out of the library, Bart rushed ahead to Danny.

Over the phone, Danny let him know Bart had arrived. “Oh, and Tucker just got here, too. Excellent. He can speak Esperanto as well. Looks like he’s explaining things to big and hairy over here.”

“Great. We’ll be there soon as we can.”

“Can we fly there?” asked Conner.

Cassie nodded. “People would just think we’re more ghosts.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Superboy and Wonder Girl were seen in town just last night. No.”

Conner stuck his tongue out at him. “Spoilsport.”

“Relax. It’s not far. GPS has us in the general location in, like, ten minutes.”

“Fine, fine,” sighed Cassie. “We’ll be good.”

Tim elbowed her with a grin. “Now, I never said you had to do that.”

Conner laughed. “So, what is this Esperanto language, anyway? I haven’t heard of it.”

“It’s a conlang based on European languages that’s supposed to be easy to learn. The idea was to make a sort of common language for Earth without promoting a single language like English. It hasn’t gained a lot of traction, though. And if Bart doesn’t know it, then it likely won’t.”

“Huh, weird. Why do you think a werewolf ghost know an Earth-based conlang?”

“Oooh! I bet it’s because he’s the manifestation of some teenage girl’s OC,” offered Cassie.

Tim laughed. “Or maybe the OC of one of the people to create Esperanto.”

Conner shook his head. “You’ve got this all wrong. He’s from an alternate future where Esperanto did take off and a werewolf virus spread among humans.”

The ten minute walk was filled with more and more outlandish theories ending with the wolf being the reincarnation of Jesus who was trying to bring humanity together through the reinstitution of a common language like in the pre-Tower-of-Babel days.

At the edge of the woods, Tim nudged Conner. “Can you hear where they are?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

And then it was less than two minutes before Tim could see them. “Oi! Danny!” he called out with a wave.

Danny flew over to them and hugged him. “Thank you so much! You’re gonna save me so many detentions.” He grabbed Tim’s hand and pulled him towards Tucker and the ghost. “Tim, this is Wulf. Wulf,” Danny said while making eye contact, “Friends.” Then he slowly pointed to each person and said their name.

Tucker rolled his eyes and repeated the information in Esperanto. Tim recognized his and his teammates names and many of the words felt familiar. Likely since he knew or was learning a few European languages.

“So, will we just hang out here for the next few hours until you get out of school?” asked Tim.

“Yeah. It’ll only be about two and a half hours. That okay? Then we’ll go back to Sam’s place. We can hide in her basement.”

“We’ve hung out in worse places for longer,” said Bart. “This is practically cozy. And me or one of the others can run into town for food and supplies. Anything you want from your parent’s place? Food? Snacks?”

Tucker grinned. “If you could get some jerky, that’d be great. No meat at Sam’s.”

Danny laughed. “If we think of anything else, one of us will text it to the group chat.”

An alarm buzzed on Tucker’s PDA. “We’ve got to get back now.”

“Shit. Okay. I’ll fly us back. Bye Tim, everyone!” Danny picked up Tucker and flew away, turning invisible before he was more than a few yards away.

-----

Next

So, more banter and more plot! We're almost starting to get somewhere! This marks roughly the halfway point of the episode. And the arc is almost 25k words. This is why I take forever to publish anything. It always spirals out of my control. Even this section, I originally opened with them in the library. But then I remembered I wanted to have Sam paint Conner's nails and that led to me adding over 900 words to the beginning.

I no longer do tag lists for this fic, but if you make your way to the subscription post, you can set it up so you get notified when this updates.

[moirindeclermont]

Daily thread about BridgertonS3 while we wait for part 2.

Let's talk about Pen, because oh boy I have thoughts 💭 and the short version is "you go girl, good for you, you deserve everything".

Let me start by making a huge shout out to Nicola because she is amazing. I'm in awe of her performance!

And also, disclaimer: this is a very personal opinion based on my experience and my views. Every opinion, as long as it respectful, is valid in my book because it's yours.

But, back to Pen. I do not have to imagine what it feels like pining for someone. To those who never experienced it, imagine all the good stuff about being in love with someone combined with the torture of not be able to he with that person. Don't recommend but sometimes it's just how it is.

And in this context what you do receive, in various form, is a recycled statements along the line of "you have to move on". By the way, and I know this might be unpopular, as long as you don't hurt anyone or go on stalker mode, pining is fine. It might pass, with time. It evolves and it changes, but as long as you're respectful there is nothing wrong with that.

Add to this the layer of "marrying is the only way to get out of this house" I don't blame her for trying. Not one bit.

I already touched on previous threads that I don't find shameful or pitiful asking to kiss Colin. It's over the top? Maybe, but losing hope can make people acting like that.

Moreover, I love that, in the beginning of the carriage scene, Pen doesn't believe Colin. Or doesn't want to believe him. It's been years, so of course you don't believe it, initially.

And I love that when Colin tries to go back "Forgive me" that's when she take a step in his direction. The bravery that it took to speak, I could not image it.

And afterwords, when they stop and Colin adjusts her dress 👀 and she says "what are you doing?" In the softest voice... I think that part broke me. Because imagine having everything you've ever wanted right in front of you, and still there is a part of her brain that doesn't believe it.

As proven by the "Colin?" When he steps out of the carriage. Because even when everything should be okay, but you're not used to happiness and comfort and security, it's normal to doubt.

It's heartbreaking but so real! And yes, there are conflicts that are going to be resolved, but let me touch briefly before this truly becomes an essay on the importance of representation.

Because it's rare to see stuff like this. So rare but so important. The fact that we are waiting to suspend our belief when it comes to Marvel and Star Wars, but we drew the line at this (which is much more common that people think) speaks to me about how much we still have to work on representing different body types.

So, in conclusion, this part 1 made me feel seen. Because everyone deserves love and connection (in different forms according to each). Everyone. Don't let anyone tell you different. Thank you, Pen. Thank you, Colin. Thank you, Bridgerton.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Humans And Mutants - Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Title: Chocolate Milk, Pour Me A Cup

Previous Chapter | Current Chapter | Next Chapter

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Charles, Jean (Mentioned), Bobby, Jones, Kurt (Mentioned), and Scott (Mentioned)

WC: 1,958

Warnings: Smoking, killing mentioned, nightmares, experiments mentioned, beer mentioned, Reader wears an eye patch, slow burn, cursing, slight angst, and fluff

(Sorry, if this series is a bit odd, I made this in 2018)

Logan wandered the halls of the mansion looking for Professor X, or Charles. He finally found him in Cerebro, the giant machine that held great power. Charles sat at the console, and adjusted some of the controls, before speaking to Logan. “Logan, my repeated requests about smoking in the mansion notwithstanding, continue smoking that in here… And you will spend the rest of your days under the belief that you are a six-year-old girl.” Charles threatened, not even turning to Logan, who had a cigar in his mouth.

“You’d do that?” Logan questioned, surprise reflected in his voice.

“I’ll have Jean braid your hair. Welcome back.” Charles playfully threatened with a small smile on his face, putting on a silver helmet with two wires connected to the console in front of him; he shut his eyes. The door behind the both of them slowly closed, shutting them both in.

Logan puts out the cigar with his palm, breathing out his nose in pain, and putting the rest of it in his pocket for later; the burn on his hand slowly heals completely. “You want me to leave?” Logan asked, glancing around him at the circle room.

“No. Just… Don't move.” Charles answered slowly, concentrating as the walls fell away with the Cerebro effect. The Cerebro abruptly pulled straight down with stomach-lurching speed, rushing through blackness with hints of light. In seconds, both Logan and Charles were standing inside a giant image of the Earth resembling bright white lights, slowly rotating around them. The white lights were like stars that had fallen to Earth. “Those lights represent every living person on the planet. The white lights are humans.” Charles spoke up, as the white lights then suddenly faded and red lights appeared. “And these are the mutants. Through Cerebro, I am connected to them, and they to me. You see Logan, we’re not as alone as you think.” Charles finished, looking at all the red lights softly speaking and moving around them; multiple whispers swirled around them.

“I found the base. There was nothing there,” Logan suddenly said.

“The broken line represents the path the mutant took to attack the President. Finding it difficult to get a lock on him.” Charles continued, looking at the lights around him.

Logan looked around the room as well, “Can’t you just concentrate harder?” He asked, as if it was so easy.

“If I wanted to kill him, yes.” Charles said, causing Logan to look at the Professor abruptly, surprised. “There. It looks like he’s finally stopped running.” the Professor spoke as the red lights zoom through and slow down to one mutant praying rapidly in German.

Charles closed his eyes, he found what he needed. Suddenly, the Cerebro effect collapses on itself and they are back on the metal catwalk. Charles pulled off the helmet and set it down on the console.

“I need you to read my mind again.” Logan said insistently as Charles sighed softly.

“Logan,” He wheeled back to face him before continuing, “I’m afraid the result will be the same as before.”

Logan narrowed his eyes, “We had a deal.” He stated grumpily as Charles gave him a look.

“Logan, the mind is not a box to be simply unlocked and opened, it’s a beehive-”

“Spare me the knowledge.” Logan said, cutting the Professor off.

“I don’t doubt that your amnesia and enhanced skeleton and claws are somehow connected. Logan, sometimes the mind needs to discover it for itself.” Charles said to a pretty pissed off Logan. “I promise we’ll talk more about it when I get back. Oh, if you will be kind enough to watch over the children tonight, Scott and I are going to pay a visit to an old friend.”

~~~

The night was quiet and still, only the soft wind was heard hitting against the windows. Logan layed in bed, his soft slumber soon falling into a heart-stopping nightmare. Inside his mind, he saw flashes of his forgotten past. Government people, scientists, x-ray scans, and people whispering the words ‘no memory’. He felt pain and confusion rolled up in one. He jolted forward, breathing heavily; sweat covered his chest and forehead. He got up and walked from his room down the great halls of wooden architecture. He walked into a room with a TV on, and a little boy with big round glasses on his nose. The TV's channels changed periodically, as the boy’s eyes blinked.

Logan leaned on the entrance door wall and watched, arms crossed. He watched the boy and then to the tv when it changed again to the report about the attack in Washington DC.  “Can’t sleep?” The boy questioned, not turning away from the TV.

“How could you tell?” Logan asked with a small smirk on his face.

The boy turned to Logan. “Because you’re awake.”

“Right.” Logan simply said before he continued, “How ‘bout you?” He asked the boy.

“I don’t sleep.” Said the boy, who already turned back to watch the TV.

Logan took a moment before leaving, and on his way around the mansion, he found the kitchen. He stopped and noticed Bobby eating a pint of ice cream; vanilla. Bobby stopped mid-way of eating a spoonful of ice cream when he noticed Logan at the door entrance.

“Hey.” Bobby greeted, resuming his bite on his spoon.

“Doesn't anyone sleep around here?” Logan questioned heading to the fridge.

Bobby stabbed his ice cream with his spoon, “Apparently not.”

“Got any beer?” Logan asked, opening the fridge, peering inside.

Bobby gave the man a look, “This is a school.” He answered with a slight smile on his face; filled with amusement.

“So that’s a ‘no’?” Logan directed, making sure.

“Yeah, that’s a ‘no’.” Bobby answered with a nod, confirming.

Logan shut the fridge, turning to the young teen, “Is there anything other than chocolate milk?”

“There should be some soda in the small cupboard.” Bobby said, pointing to the cupboard with his spoon. Logan headed over and opened the cupboard, pulling out a Dr. Pepper. “Oh, hey, could you pull out the chocolate milk from the fridge? The carton?” Bobby asked, gesturing with his spoon again.

Logan looked at him for a moment, confused before he headed back to the fridge, opening it and grabbing the chocolate milk carton. Passing it over to Bobby, he watched as the teen hopped off his stool to grab a glass from a nearby cupboard. Bobby then opened the carton and began to pour a full glass of milk, fully emptying whatever was left in the carton completely. Bobby then slid the glass near the sink before sitting back down, tossing the empty carton into the trash a ways away from him.

Logan then opened his soda, his mind racing in confusion and curiosity. He walked to the island where Bobby was sitting once more and tossed the cap on the counter. He was about to take a sip when he hesitated, he gave it to Bobby, and Bobby blew into the bottle causing the soda to cool off and small frost-like designs on the side of the glass bottle.

“Thanks.” Logan said, sort of impressed before he took a sip.

“No problem.” Bobby said, poking his ice cream again.

Logan took another sip of the soda, before gesturing with his chin at the counter, “So, why the milk by the sink? Seems like a waste.” Logan asked, before taking a sip of his Dr. Pepper again.

“If you want to wait a second, then you’ll see why?” Bobby said, scooping and eating more ice cream. Logan looked at Bobby, even more confused than before as Bobby then looked down at his watch on his right wrist and then went back to eating his ice cream. Moments went on in silence, filled with bites of ice cream and sips of soda until Bobby began speaking. “Five… Four… Three… Two… One… And zero.”

Once Bobby finished his countdown, a small flash of light appeared, slightly blinding Logan before the light faded and a woman stood by the sink. Logan couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was, the way her hair framed her face, and the smile that sat there. But, one thing that stood out to Logan about this mystery woman was that one eye was covered with an eyepatch. She was dressed in seemingly really comfortable clothes, leaning back against the counter as she grabbed the glass of chocolate milk, taking a sip. Looking up, she finally took notice of the extra person in the kitchen.

“Hey, Prof. This is Logan.” Bobby announced, introducing the two, gesturing to Logan with his spoon.

“He’s new I’m guessing?” You asked Bobby, looking at the new guy you had never seen before, giving him a once-over. You were pleasantly surprised by this new guy, finding him incredibly attractive; strong arms, nice hair, cute face.

“Sort of.” Logan answered simply, shrugging, still surprised by your sudden appearance.

You gave a smile and nodded, “Names Y/N L/N, sorry to cut this introduction short. I have to get back to my cabin. My show’s about to come on. Oh, and Bobby, don’t forget to finish your homework.” You replied, pointing at Bobby with your half-drunk glass.

“Yeah, finished it, Teach.” Bobby said, giving her a thumbs up.

You smiled and nodded, “Good, keep the good work up. See you all later.” You said, taking one last glance at Logan before the same bright light appeared around you, and once the light had cleared, you were gone and so was the milk.

Moments passed and again there was silence. Bobby looked at Logan who just had a blank expression; his face unreadable, but his eyes held shock. “I know, she’s pretty cool.”

Logan finally snapped out of it and turned to Bobby. “What does she teach anyway?” Logan questioned him, taking another sip of his drink, it was almost gone at this point.

“Biology, and she is pretty good at it. Even though half the time her class is pretty boring. I mean, she teaches us some cool stuff, I admit that, but after hearing about stuff that is probably not relevant to my future, it gets boring. Don’t tell her I said that through, she would flip, and then give me homework.” Bobby replied, before shoveling more ice cream in his mouth. 

“Doesn't she already give you homework?” Logan inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“No, only when we do something that pisses her off. ‘It’s a bad influence on the little kids’, she says. And the worst part is that the homework is an essay, and she is really into grammar so we have to have everything correct, or we have to start all over again.” Bobby complained.

“Tough.” Logan responded, taking another sip of his drink.

“Yeah.” Bobby nodded, finishing his ice cream, dropping the spoon in the empty ice cream box.

Logan swirled the last bit of his soda around in the bottle before tilting his head back and finishing the rest, “Is there anything else she can do besides teleporting and stealing chocolate milk?”

“Well, I have a theory that she has other powers that she’s hiding.” Bobby said, explaining his thoughts, fidgeting with something on the kitchen island.

“Can’t you ask her about it?” Logan asked, leaning against the island as he sat down his empty bottle.

“No, I did once and she got annoyed, saying I shouldn’t ask personal questions. Then she gave me a five-inch tall essay to finish the difference between meiosis and mitosis. And I had to finish it in a week.” Bobby said, raving dramatically.

Logan nodded, humming slightly. He didn’t really care about the homework and essays, he cared about the person dishing them out.

_____

@powergirlsupremacy

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[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus Lore 1: Mark's Hangover

The inspiration for this story came at the most inconvenient time. I was at work and as the images and sounds came to me, I had to fight hard to make it appear like I was actually present. The drive home was only successful because I had taken the way home so many times before as I was still stuck in the headspace. I mad-dashed this story when I got to my computer and ended up staying awake way too long to complete it. I edited it and changed it this morning.

This was NOT the story I was intending to create next! I hope it holds up tomorrow when I read over it after I've posted it!

I was also not intending on making a separate series on the lore of these two characters, but the asks in my inbox made me think about their pasts and inspired some deeper consideration on the plots and thoughts I already had in mind.

Disclaimers: This is a work of FANTASY. Otto and Atticus are such a good couple because I need them to be a good couple. This is not, for the most part, realistic. (Also, I don't even have a tambour style mantel clock, nor did anyone in my family.)

I don't know anyone who has a kink specifically for watching someone get aroused. If that kink does exist (or is just a normal way of people reacting), I'm completely unfamiliar with it and have created a possible fictional representation of a kink. Thus, any of Otto's thoughts are extrapolated from ideas I thought would be plausible. (I am very asexual.)

If anyone is familiar with the series Otto's character was based on, this is basically a rewrite of similar character dynamics. I give real-world reasons for the fantasy content in the series to have happened. I know nothing of police procedure or detective procedure.

I do not have alcoholism. I know a few people who are alcoholics, but I don't have personal experience with the feeling of being an alcoholic and the emotions that surround the disease. If I'm misrepresenting something here, I apologize.

CW (there will probably be quite a few in this one):

Representation of a hangover from an emotional drinking binge.

Allusion to Otto's past as an alcoholic and reflection as a recovering alcoholic.

Allusion to Otto's falling off the wagon at one point. (very brief)

Mention of Jana's addiction to prescription drugs and alcohol.

Mention of Jana and Mark's break up.

Uncomfortable hiccups that concern Otto.

Mention of throwing up and retching.

Hiccups that Otto thinks are suggestive of needing to throw up.

No depiction of emeto. Discussion of previous purge (very brief).

Verbal description of the sound of Mark's hiccups by Otto to Atticus.

Verbal description of Otto's hiccups from Atticus to Otto.

Arousal mention.

Arousal and follow through implication.

A small hiccup battle.

Otto being extremely patient and understanding.

Otto also being the Felix to Mark's Oscar.

I STG, children, just look up The Odd Couple.

Atticus being embarrassed.

Mark being embarrassed.

Otto being a well-adjusted bi.

Mark being a disaster straight.

Jana is not a bad person. I intend to prove this in future stories.

Alice is also not a bad person. Etc. Etc.

Realizing how much I do lean heavily in a masc cast. I don't know why that is. Ah well, it's my fantasy anyway.

Mention of Atticus' parents both no longer existing.

Long moments in the story where no hiccups occur.

Lots of exposition surrounding past events. (I know, I know. Show, don't tell. But I had a need to write it out.

Um, if there's other stuff please tell me?

Finally! The story!

It was 6:30am and Otto was just about to have his first cup of coffee for the day when he heard the stairs from the loft bed creaking with heavy, ambling footsteps. Otto watched with attentive curiosity as Mark lumbered into the kitchen in boxers and a white shirt.

“Hey HNGK’UH!…” the younger man muttered as he sat down heavily across from Otto and shielded his eyes from the lights.

Otto wordlessly got up, sitting his unsipped coffee on the table, and turned off the overhead light while drawing the shades of the small window over the sink to let in a softer natural light into the kitchen.

“HUNGK!”

Poor guy had a wicked case of hiccups, it sounded like, and Otto knew a bad case of hiccups. A few weeks ago, Mark had been on the witnessing side of a 5-hour case of hiccups to which Otto had been victim.

But Otto knew good and well this wasn’t just about a case of the hiccups. The hiccups were a consequence of Mark’s actions. Mark’s actions were a consequence of an exorbitant amount of alcohol had the night before at a bar after work. The alcohol binge was a consequence of the fact that the future life he’d been planning with Jana had been crumbling slowly around him after a whole bunch of unpleasantness and drama that proceeded the breakup.

Mark had been staying with Otto for a few months as Jana and his relationship started to disintegrate. Yesterday Mark had told Otto that Jana had come by the police station, where he worked, to retrieve the spare key to their previously shared house from him and give him some stuff that he’d found of his that she thought he might want back.

Otto figured the finality of it all probably hit Mark pretty hard when he got a call at around 1am. Mark was slurring into his phone so much Otto could barely understand him. He had Mark hand the phone to the bartender, and he was able to get the address and head over to retrieve the wayward detective. The bartender, consequentially, was Margie.

Margie did a very good job of taking care of Mark before Otto arrived. Otto was very appreciative of the gesture. She kept his friend safe. The next week he’d visit the bar again during the daytime and would be lucky enough for her to be working so he could give her more thanks. They would start to talk, and a friendship would form quickly, thereafter.

Like clockwork, a customary pun for a clock maker, Otto awoke at 6am despite the late night. He didn’t expect Mark to be awake until much later that day.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this early,” Otto said. He kept his voice soft and tried to minimize the sounds of his shuffling through cabinets. “How’re you holding up?”

“HNGK! I’m okay. Hiccups woke me. Could-HINGK!-couldn’t get back to sleep,” Mark replied in a hoarse voice just above a whisper.

Mark lifted his hand away from his face a little when he realized the lights weren’t as bright as they had seemed before. He squinted his dark blue eyes in Otto’s direction as he watched the taller man walk back and forth. He had to look away when he found himself getting dizzy while trying to follow Otto’s path. The dull ache of pain behind his eyes and sinuses made him squeeze his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

Mark wondered if Ralph would’ve been as respectful of his current condition as Otto seemed. Ralph would have, no doubt, treated his hangover with some humor. Maybe he would’ve spoken a little loud or turned on all the lights. Ralph might’ve been sensitive later to Mark’s plight, but his friend and work partner seemed the type to shock someone in his sad, hungover state with tough love.

Mark wondered if Otto might have had a little more experience with being in the detective’s similar situation than Ralph. Mark was not wrong in his thought process, impressive as it for his brain to have formed the thought in such a dehydrated and painful state.

Otto had taken the time, when he’d settled his friend down enough that he knew he wouldn’t wake and was safe from further purging, to silence all of the chimes and striking clocks he owned. Otto had, indeed, been in Mark’s shoes and physical state more times and to a greater degree than it was likely Mark had. One thing Otto remembered viscerally about those times is that he could’ve done with a little understanding and kindness despite the bad decisions that lead him to the consequences of his self-destructive behavior.

“Here,” Otto said as he sat a glass of orange-hued liquid beside Mark’s elbow. “It’s Emergen-C. Electrolytes and vitamins. You’re really dehydrated, man, and this is a quicker way to replenish that. Tastes like orange. This,” Otto held up a small pocket of wax paper folded over a small amount of powder, “is BC powder. Powdered Aspirin and caffeine. Quickest way to get some pain relief from that headache. You gonna puke? Those hiccups sound suspicious…”

Mark took a while to respond, his brain working on reserves with all of the pressure and pounding in his head. Right. The hiccups.

“Naw. Did all of that HNK!-that last night. HMGK! I always get these after a nigh-HNGK’M!-night like...like last night. Usually takes a HNK-UH! a while to stop. Nothing helps. Kinda like you-HNGK!-yours. Thanks,” Mark said as he took a swig of the glass. The Emergen-C’s light fizz felt refreshing even though the artificialness of the orange flavor was a little offensive.

Mark felt Otto’s warm hand on his shoulder before the older man crossed back to where he was sitting before.

Otto sat down and observed his friend’s pallor and slow movements. He had memories of his own struggles with hangovers. He also had memories of squelching those hangovers with more drinking. It was less ‘hair of the dog’ and more the whole damn canine. To be fair, it was an effective method for a while. Not really something that, Otto discovered, was sustainable.

“Yeah, just pour that powder in your mouth and wash it down really quick with the water. Trust me, you don’t want that taste to linger any longer than it has to,” Otto said as he watched Mark’s cautious handling of the wax paper.

Otto watched him make a face from the bitterness of the powder before the detective quickly gulped the Emergen-C flavored water as a chaser. Otto couldn’t help but give a little chuckle.

“You good?” the clock maker asked.

“Y-HUNGK!-Yeah. Ugh!” Mark exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’ll help, I promise. I know you feel like crap right now. No real shortcut to a hangover, man, but you can treat the symptoms. If you’re feeling like it, I can fix us both some breakfast after I finish my coffee,” Otto said.

“Thanks. That might b-HINGK!-might be good,” Mark said sheepishly. He jerked with another hiccup and tossed his head to clear his dark hair from in front of his eyes. He regretted the motion almost immediately as he winced.

Just as Otto was finally starting to take a sip of his still steaming coffee, Mark spoke up again and Otto met his tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Otto lowered the mug again, shaking his head.

“Dude, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said with a sad smile. “Listen, man, you are going through some tough shit right now. I mean, I’m really glad Jana’s finally getting the treatment she needs. And you were a big part of that. And, well, you know, the whole malpractice lawsuit with that bitch blonde lawyer, Alice...whatshername moved that recovery along legally, but you were a part of it, too!”

Mark snorted at the cavalier summation Otto gave of his ex’s journey from addiction to almost losing her veterinarian license, to starting in a recovery program, to Jana realizing that she couldn’t hold up a relationship with Mark and recover at the same time. While he knew it wasn’t a personal attack, Mark couldn’t help but feel supreme grief in knowing that the person he fell in love with was going through something that, not only could he not help with, but that he was a hindrance in overcoming.

Not to mention he had purchased an engagement ring he had planned on unveiling at the right moment, which seemed perpetually postponed by upticks in crime and cases he couldn’t ignore. So, did he really blame her for not feeling safe in the relationship?

Otto was speaking again, and Mark looked up from his thoughts to listen. His body jolted again, and he was reminded that his hangover was still actively punishing him for his choices. The hiccups didn’t hurt, per se, but they were definitely hard, loud, and sounded pretty terrible.

“I mean, you know I’ve been in your place before. I mean, not exactly, but similar. No one would blame you for having a little self-destructive pity party. Just...not too many of them. Cause then you end up in the hospital 15-some-odd years later being told that your pancreas is on its last legs and one more drink could send you into a fatal situation. That’s...obviously specific to my experience, but you get it. Anyway, you got wasted cause you were grieving, and you asked your amazing friend who came to pick you up if he thought you were good-looking because for some reason none of the girls at the bar wanted to go home with the shit-faced drunk guy.

“And I meant what I said. You’re extremely hot and it’s so depressing that you’re completely so heterosexual. Like...painfully straight. Ugh!” Otto said, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Mark’s eyes had gotten so comically wide that Otto could see the bloodshot veins in the whites of them and the pink inflammation lining his eyelids.

“I HNGK-KUH!-I didn’t say all that, did I? HU’NGK!” Mark asked aghast as he rubbed his chest.

“You really did. Then you suggested we try being in a relationship because, and I quote, ‘you do guys sometimes, right?’ As if I haven’t explicitly told you my preferences. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But I just don’t think we’d make a good match.

“We have a dishwasher, Mark. We have a machine that does the dishes for us. In the kitchen. Next to the sink that has a garbage disposal. Why do we have piles of dirty dishes? Not to mention if I find your boxers in a load of my clothes one more time I...sneaky bastard. Like a thief except instead of stealing things you invade my loads of laundry, so you don’t have to do your own. Like that bird. What’s that bird? That bird who lays its eggs in the other bird’s nest and has them raise their babies, so they don’t have to? Fuck! Cuckoo bird! How the hell does a clock maker forget that?!” Otto exclaimed. “You’re like a damn laundry cuckoo bird forcing me to wash your underwear!”

Mark was having a struggle trying to coordinate his silent laughter with his forceful hiccups. His body jolted against the back of the chair again as Otto seemed to wind down.

“I swear, man H’UNGK!, I don’t remember any HNGK!-any of that. Seriously, I’m NGK!-I’m really sorry you had to deal with—ugh!” the silent hiccup thumped hard in his chest as it choked his words, “deal with me. Damn, these things are an-HNGK!-annoying!” Mark said, rubbing his chest again.

The detective did notice, though, that his headache had already started to fade. He still felt a little foggy and unsettled in his stomach, but he was already feeling better. He wasn’t sure it was Otto’s humorous distraction or the Emergen-C and BC powder. Perhaps it was a combination.

“You sure you’re good with the stomach stuff? Cause those things sound like little retches…” Otto said, still suspicious.

“Well, if you keep t-ANGK!-talking about the stomach stuff I might HNGK!-might start feeling sick, so…” Mark said, crossing his arms as he winced at another silent bodily jerk.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop,” Otto said, holding up his hands.

“You’re not one t-HINGK!-to hiccup-shame. Mr. Five H-HUMPK!-Hours of Scary Ass Hiccups!” Mark exclaimed.

“Touché!” Otto said at the reference to the time the clock maker developed a case of hiccups that persisted for most of the day. When Mark suggested holding his breath, Otto’s body rejected the cure and gave him the fastest hiccups he’d ever had. Otto was sore for days after that night.

Otto finally touched his lips to his mug of coffee that was still quite warm. Mark chuckled before another hiccup hit him. As Otto swallowed, he gave his friend a questioning look.

“Ass hiccups,” Mark explained with a smirk. Otto would wonder later if Mark still wasn’t a little drunk.

Otto inhaled the coffee with a surprised laugh and started coughing violently. His coughing was interspersed with...well...hiccups.

“Shit! HUCK!” Otto exclaimed between coughing.

He looked up to find Mark covering his mouth, but mirth in his eyes, as he watched Otto’s struggles.

“No HNGK!-no way. Dude, do we seriously HNGKL!-have the hiccups at the same UNGK!-same time?” Mark guffawed.

“This is HULP!HMK!-this is all y-HMK!-your fault, man. HLMK! Dammit!” Otto said.

Mark just laughed again, another hard hiccup smacking into his chest and throat.

After a while, they both calmed down. For the next few minutes, it was quiet save for the call and response their hiccups played with each other. Otto continued to sip his coffee, stubborn to drink the warm beverage he was so looking forward to. Mark nursed the rest of the Emergen-C, energy that he had regained from before having dissipated as he stared into the residue on the inside of his glass.

Though Otto’s hiccups were still rapid they had decreased in strength while Mark’s stayed forceful and deep.

“HNGK!” Mark’s hiccups said.

“Hlp!Hip!” said Otto’s.

“HUNGK!…HMP’K!”

“Huck!-himp!mp!”

“HU’NGK!...UCK!...HMMNGK!”

“Huck!Huck’l!Hmpk!Mp!” Otto sighed at the fast cluster and patted his chest, muffling another hiccup behind his hand.

“Stop that!” Mark suddenly exclaimed.

Otto looked up from a paper he had begun to do the crossword on with confusion.

“You can’t t-HNGK!-tell me you’re not d-UMPK!-doing that on purpose,” Mark said.

Otto frowned, head jerking in more hiccups.

“You’re out hi-HILMK!-out hiccuping me. You’re doing one-HNGK!-one more hiccup each time,” Mark complained, grumpily sipping the last of his enhanced water. Most of it was, of course, put on. But he had genuinely wondered if somehow Otto was doing it on purpose, too.

Otto, for his part, had been oblivious to the hiccup war that Mark had been forging. But he smiled now, taking a haughty tone.

“Well…I am the hmpk!hip!-the sup—superior hic-hu’up!-hiccuper,” he said, battling through another cluster and putting a fist over his mouth as three more hit him in a row.

A beat past before they both erupted into giggling laughter at the ridiculousness. The laughter ended in both of them letting out a hiccup simultaneously, Mark’s “HINGK!” to Otto’s “Hi’ilp!” which sent them into another roll of laughter that perpetuated itself for a while before they both got tired and winded.

Otto’s hiccups ended before Mark’s and the detective ended up hiccuping for about an hour in total which left him feeling sore and tired. But Otto’s breakfast and subsequent lunch and pressuring his friend to drink more water helped Mark feel much better by the end of the day.

***

To be honest, Otto had been terrified that night when he got the call from Mark. Mark was a rational person who didn’t often let vices lead his actions. He had a very clear and logical leaning and seeing the man so out of character and destroyed shook Otto’s core. In addition, having to enter a bar again and seeing representations of himself in his worst times all around him being unnerving and unsettling in and of itself.

The main reason Mark and him had become the unlikely friends they were was due to a case of mistaken identity where Otto lived one street away from a man guilty of kidnapping and murder. Otto also fit the physical description of the man in question, which wasn’t much: a tall man with a beard and wild curly hair.

After Otto’s innocence was proven, he was still getting harassed by his neighbors who hadn’t gotten the news that the actual murderer had been caught and was being prosecuted. Otto had stormed into the police station with the dark-haired, blue-eyed detective in his sights. Before the police there could usher him out (forcefully) Mark stopped them and let Otto have his say.

Otto demanded that some representative of the police go around his neighborhood and clarify that Otto was, in fact, innocent. Additionally, someone had thrown a brick through his window, and he held Mark personally responsible for paying for said window’s replacement. Also, he hadn’t spent this many years getting his life back together as a recovering alcoholic to now be chased out of his home because of a crime he actually didn’t commit!

To Otto’s surprise, it was the lead detectives, Mark and his partner Ralph themselves who went around to every one of his neighbors and explained Otto’s innocence. They ended at Otto’s door with sincere apologies, especially Mark. He was, after all, the one who had tackled Otto to the front steps of his own house in the first place.

He was further surprised to see Mark at his door again a few days later. He gave him a check to reimburse the window and had another request for Otto. His girlfriend, he suspected, was abusing her prescription drugs and alcohol and did Otto know of any programs that could be of use. And could Otto, perhaps, be willing to help Mark understand some of what she was going through from a place of having gone through something similar? Mark didn’t understand addiction from a personal standpoint, and it was causing a rift between he and Jana that he feared was irreparable.

The request was incredibly personal and bordered on inappropriate and offensive, but something about Mark’s countenance endeared him to Otto. Otto could tell Mark was coming from a place of wanting to learn and though it was a heavy burden to share his vulnerability with a man who accused him from murder, he felt compelled to try and help.

So, Otto, who had been living a pretty secluded life up until that point, reticently decided to be of service to Mark’s questions. The friendship ended up being mutually beneficial. Otto hadn’t realized how his reclusive life had been gnawing at his mental health. It had gotten to the point where he was scared to do anything social for fear of losing control of his desires. Mark ended up being the soft introduction to an unexpectedly functional, safe friendship. It was something he’d never experienced before.

It took a while for Otto not to see Mark as some twenty-something cop made detective before they were mature enough to handle it when he couldn’t even handle his private life. And the clock maker was more than full of opinions about those facts that he didn’t at all hide from the detective during their friendship. But Otto’s gruffness was chipped away by Mark’s eagerness to learn and try to help his girlfriend, Jana. And perhaps if Mark had been more forward with Jana about that learning process and his intentions things might’ve ended differently. Finding out your boyfriend was talking about your most intimate personal struggles with a stranger was distressing and Jana was quickly losing trust in Mark and their relationship.

All said, Jana still remained part of their social circle throughout her recovery. And, of course, the story of the lawyer who led Jana’s prosecution which almost led to her losing her license and livelihood was a whole other story. Alice and Mark together. No one saw that coming.

***

Atticus continued to stroke and massage Otto’s scalp as he finished the recollection. Somehow, the clock maker’s head had ended up on Atticus’ lap while they both reclined in bed as he spoke. The writer often wondered if Otto was part dog with the way he’d flop on them at times and how much he appreciated his head massaged.

The story had started only because Atticus mentioned how they had a fantasy of Otto and another one of their friends having hiccups simultaneously. But, they were quick to caveat, if that actually happened, they wouldn’t know how they’d contain themselves. The fantasy was still a thought that gave them some arousal, though.

The fantasy reminded Otto of the one time both he and Mark had them simultaneously and his mouth ran away with the story.

“Wow. That definitely helps fill some gaps,” Atticus said. Learning more about the history of Otto’s friendships was enlightening.

Jana had moved a few hours away by the time Atticus had met Otto. She stopped by every now and then to reconnect, but Atty hadn’t been available for those sessions. After all this time, they still hadn’t met the person who’d, in many ways, triggered the events that led Otto to meeting them.

If Otto hadn’t been such good friends with Mark, and if Atticus hadn’t been a victim of a serial robbery in their old apartment complex, then Mark wouldn’t have known to suggest Otto to them after the thief had knocked an old clock Atticus had inherited from its shelf. That clock still existed and ran perfectly after Otto had repaired it. It was in the loft bedroom where Atty found themselves often to write or decompress. It was a tambour style mantel clock. Atty had it in their house growing up. Atticus didn’t even know which side of the family it was from. With both of their parents gone, they probably never would.

Clocks aside, Mark needing Otto’s guidance on Jana, in some twisted way, made it possible for Atticus and Otto to find each other. So, Atticus might owe Jana as much gratitude for them being together as Mark.

“Yeah, I forget you don’t know all of this stuff,” Otto admitted. Atticus seemed so integrated into his life that it didn’t occur to him to tell them how everyone connected.

All of Atticus’ friends were in their home state (or were relationships they’d made online). Once they’d moved, they had to make new connections. It just so happened, timewise, that Otto was one of those first connections.

“Mark was lucky to have you,” Atty said.

“Yeah, well, he saw me a lot worse than that later that year when I fell off the whole sobriety wagon. So…” Otto trailed off and seemed to snuggle his head further into the softness of Atticus’ thighs.

Atticus sighed. That story they’d heard. It wasn’t a pleasant one.

“You don’t have to do that,” they said. “Qualify your good deeds with having been more of a challenge to deal with at some other point in time. You’re a good person and you’re good at taking care of people. It’s okay to admit that.” Atticus scratched their short nails along the back of Otto’s head when they felt his neck tense.

“I know,” he finally said, breathing warmth onto Atticus’ legs in a huff. “I just wasn’t for so long...but...yeah, I know.”

“All I know is who I see, and who I see is amazing,” Atty said. They smiled as Otto turned on his back to look at them.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty amazing, too,” Otto said, lips pulling back in a smile showing just a little bit of teeth, but it was a smile that met his eyes. “And that thing you said about not qualifying your positive traits? You’re gonna, like, do that too, right? Maybe give that one a place in the old self-talk dialogue?”

Otto’s finger reached up to tap Atticus’ temple as the writer glared at him.

“See? This is why I don’t give you compliments. Always got to turn them back on me. Like weaponized kindness. Smug bastard,” Atticus muttered.

Otto laughed.

“So what did they sound like?” Atty asked sheepishly.

“What?” Otto asked with a frown as he led one of Atticus’ hands to the middle of his chest and rubbed his hand over theirs. Atty had yet to figure out why Otto preferred their hand in that spot, but they felt honored, for some reason, to be led there.

“Mark’s…” they stuttered and stopped, then they tried again, “Mark’s hiccups.”

“Oh!” Otto said in understanding. Then he scrunched his brows again while thinking. Mark’s hiccups were so distinctive, and he was trying to figure out how to word the description accurately.

“They were kind of, um, gulpy? They seemed really powerful. Like each hiccup really rocked his body back. Um. Kind of wet, too? Not sure if that’s the right way to describe it, but it was like there was wetness in the back of his throat whenever he hiccuped that sort of...sounded...I dunno…” he struggled to find the word before he gave up and shrugged “...wet!”

“You said you kind of thought he was going to throw up at first?” Atticus asked.

“Well, I mean, yeah. But he didn’t. They were just really powerful and sort of...liquidy,” Otto said, still shaking his head with the inaccurate description.

“So, wet,” Atticus confirmed lamely.

“Yeah. Like the sound of someone who just drank something when they swallow. That sticky sound in the back of their throat, you know?”

“Oh yeah! Yeah, I know what you’re talking about! Okay...wow...actually that sounds kind of hot,” Atty said.

“Yeah?” Otto asked, grinning.

“Shaddup,” they responded grumpily.

“No, I think it’s cute. What do you like about mine?” Otto fished.

“You know, I like that yours are fast. As long as they don’t bother you too much.”

“Do I have any...hot sounding hiccups?” he asked. He was rubbing Atticus’ hand again.

“It’s just the variety,” Atticus said after a while. “Each hiccup is different. Each one is a surprise. I like when you muffle them and they get louder, and harder, and longer, one after the other, until you sound hoarse and have to open your mouth to let sharper ones out. I-I like what they do to your body. Gawd, Otto, your body moves with every hiccup. Your cute, soft belly jumps and jiggles so much and you do that thing where when your head is jerked back you blink like you’re surprised. And, just, the way you react, man. How you’re so casual with them but also trying to be considerate about them with other people or when you get a little annoyed that they’re interrupting you when you’re trying to say something it’s all just so...hot. Guh…”

Atticus could feel heat crawling up their neck in both arousal and embarrassment.

“Well damn,” Otto whispered.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I mean, when you say it like that, it does sound kind of hot,” Otto admitted. He put his fingers up to his mouth and started subconsciously nibbling at his cuticles in thought. “So, it’s not just hiccups but all the stuff around hiccups. I mean obviously it’s the body movements and the sound, but it’s more. It’s how I interact with my hiccups that’s some of what turns you on. The unexpectedness of them. Is it, maybe...Is it because I’m flustered by them?”

“Sometimes,” Atty admitted.

Otto nodded, squinting in more thought.

“I think...that’s sort of why I get turned on by seeing people aroused. They aren’t completely in control, so they just react without...being able to help it. And if they’re trying to hide it and I know it? That’s so hot. Seeing them interact with people and me knowing how hard they’re trying to keep control. Not exactly something we can ever roleplay, but it doesn’t take much when I notice that anyway. My favorite part is...well...watching them relieve the feeling. The myriad of emotion. Jeez. I dunno. My body just—and nothing else really triggers that arousal for me. Doesn’t matter how attractive someone is. It’s that. And I’m there in an instant,” Otto said.

“I can definitely understand that. Damn. It’s bedtime and I am so charged right now,” Atticus admitted.

“Me, too. You...you wanna watch one of those files I made for you? While-while I watch you?” Otto asked in a small voice.

Atticus gasped.

“Oh, gawd, can we? I didn’t even...I’ll get my ear buds. You probably don’t wanna hear yourself. Gawd, I want this so much!” Atty said.

That night as Atty watched the first video where Otto made his hiccups faster by holding his breath (recommended by Otto, himself) and Otto watched Atticus, the writer couldn’t be more grateful to Jana and Mark for their involvement in getting the two of them together. Never would Atticus had ever thought that a relationship could be this symbiotic and honest, that kindness battles were the worst of their spats, and that their most serious moments came from wanting to take care of each other and expressing their gratitude for each other.

[iztea]

Something about my drawing feels off , i only got into digital drawing few weeks ago and I'm stuck at the same point and lost .. any advice?

mmm okay first of all this is really good- first impressions-wise, the proportions and anatomy look very solid so there are no major glaring issues so to speak

if you were to ask me, what i think this artwork needs is that sort of 'volume' or depth that most beginner digital artoworks lack. You can achieve this sort of volume in two ways depending on the style you are going for: either by improving the lineart, or by treating the lines just as part of the sketch and painting over them for a more.. ''painterly/rendered'' look if you want to keep the lineart in, what i suggest is adding some "line weight" so that the artwork doesn't look so flat. What i mean by this is to thicken the lines where body parts would naturally overlap (like the neck and shoulder, the nostrils area, the corners of the mouth as well as the tip of the lips etc) and where shadows would normally be for the illusion of volume. After that, i'd also add more shadows and color variation in the colouring layer so that the skin looks more lively and again, for that volume. You can do it with some dark blue or orange on a multiply or an overlay layer, just experiment a bit with colors and blending modes. If you want a more messy/painterly look (which is more down my alley or in line with my artstyle), what i'd personally do is i'd create a new layer on top of everything and just paint over the lines with broader strokes and a darker color in an attempt to add some volume to the shapes and to make the artwork look more cohesive and less "digital" because at the moment, i can tell that it is made up of a Lineart layer, then a Colouring Layer below, that very religiously follows the lineart layer and then maybe a layer on top of that for the other colors and the hair. This is a very common digital art process and a good one to keep in mind but a little secret i can give out that i've noticed in 80% of the artists who have this sort of drawing process is that they will always, always merge everything in one layer at the end and adjust things as they go. They will not keep the layers separated and just never revisit them in the process, despite what it may look like. There will always be something that needs fixing and they will fix it as they go so i suggest doing the same and being a bit more "freeform" with your layers

Anywayss, besides that, I'd also introduce some color variation like in the previous method. As a general tip, try to move the color slider around and don't just shade with a darker variation of the base color. I like how the hair is painted and the shine and everything, it looks very good and everything is pretty much set in place, i'd just render it even more, make it More voluminous. It's just missing a little pop a color: i'd add some blueish gray hues in the brown hair and for the purple hair i'd make it more rich by adding some deep dark blue hues and some faint yellow highlights (bc purple and yellow are complementary colors blabla) As for the shape, think of the hair as chunks of volume that reflect light and that are also affected by gravity.. or as spaghetti if u like flat hair like me bsjsjd That's all i could think of; Again, it's very good and promising considering you started just a few weeks ago, so keep going at it! I hope it was at least somewhat helpful and that i wasn't being too technical with the wording (and that it made sense)

[thespiritualfives]

Bad Batch Head Cannon - Blazed

Hey! This is my head cannon on what i think the Bad batch would react while being blazed! Enjoy my thoughts haha GN!Reader

Also i can take request if you guys have any other head canons you want, i can pretty much write for any clone! :)

Warnings: Suggested actions (Just in case), Smoking, GNreader, fluff, Slight angst.

Crosshair

Crosshair, man when he takes a drag off of his joint he likes to draw it out as much as he can. He would purposely blow smoke in your face in hopes of getting a rise out of you.

He's incredibly affectionate while high, rather it be carelessly laying his head on the nape of your neck while you're sitting on his lap and he long lanky arms are tightly around your waist.

While he's perfectly fine being vulnerable with you, being away from the other in your own secluded section of the ship. He hates if his brothers catch him being this vulnerable with you, but he can't bring himself to stop even when being caught.

He can appreciate the fact you put up with his snarky comments, occasional cold shoulder, sometimes even walking off without saying a word to you. You knew ever since he was rescued from the grasp of the empire it would take time for him to re-adjust back to being with his brothers, so you were more than happy to put up with it knowing there is a light at the end of his dark tunnel he had been traveling since Order 66 was issued.

Hunter

Hunter is the same as Cross, he likes to take a drag out of the roll he made, he will keep the smoke away from you if it bothers you at any point, honestly the smoke bothers him but he hates they way edibles make him feel, he took one once and he swore he would never do it again.

While smoking bothers him he is able to relax after a moment and let himself be engulfed in the haze. He thinks it is worth the smell for the feeling that puts him at ease.

Hunter would never do this infront of Omega, he wanted to keep the appearance of being a father like figure to her, not a lazy laid back sergeant who will just go with the flow and with no plan.

When it comes to you he's possessive, good luck going to the refresher and not having the Sergeant posted outside the door. He will make sure to cuddle you while you are trying to do you work on the holopad, he doesn't care if his brothers stubble upon him in this state but he does care if Omega is within his hearing radius, he will quickly attempt to sober up and act like his normal attentive self. If omega is on the ship at the same time hunter is in this state he will remain quiet while twirling his vibro blade between his fingers acting like nothing is wrong and that he's not soaring among the stars.

Tech

Oh my boy Tech, while he doesnt see a need to become under the influence, he slowly gets curious about the effects it would cause for him and how he could use this as a learning experience. He pops in an edible and oh he was FLYING.

Tech wants to make sure he is documenting every aspect of this experience while he can, he has seen based on your previous highs that there will be a point to where all you wanna do is cuddle or sleep or even both.

Tech feels his mind that was once racing with so much information, is starting to finally slow down for him to take a deep breath. While he's in this mindset he seeks out comfort from you in the form of just talking and holding your hand. He's not one for cuddling out in the open of the ship so he just ops for holding your hand. While you both talk about nonsense from the previous missions and how things could've gone differently.

After a while Tech will motion you to join him in the now empty cockpit of the ship orbiting through hyperpsace, after you join him Tech takes a seat in his respective chair and pulls you down to sit in his lap to where your back is facing him. He sighs a gentle sigh and will rest his chin on your shoulder while watching the lanes of hyperspace pass you by.

Wrecker

If this man gets a hold of an edible he is gone, He is instantly just mush and a bombshell of emotions. As soon as he devours the edible he is instantly by your side and ready for the effects to take place. He will lazily drape his arm over your shoulders since he essentially loses his ability to walk and have balance.

You and the boys hid all the explosives you could prior before wrecker can get the idea of going out side and having explosive lessons with Omega.

Wrecker is a huge cuddle bantha when he is in the mid state of his daze. He will do his best to keep awake and to keep you wrapped up by his side so that way he knows you're safe and that you are still there. Sometimes he will lay there in his bunk with you wondering out why you are with him and not one of his brothers. His insecurities will get the best of him but you would be there to wash them away and to make sure he knows why you are with him.

Once wrecker calms down from his panic attack he starts to drift off to sleep shortly after you do with your head on his chest, he makes it his goal to make sure you are asleep first before he can drift off to sleep himself. Knowing that you are safely in his arms is all he needs to know before he drifts off.

Echo

Echo refuses to take a drag of a blunt, eat an edible or even play with the idea. Until one day he had just returned from a mission and you could tell he was not okay, he was on the verge of tears, you knew he didn't fully cope with the fact of him losing his twin Fives and you could tell it was finally catching up to him. As you sit down next to him he asked you quietly if him and you could go to your personal space on the ship, once you reach the area he asked if you would let him try an edible, he was desperate enough to try anything to ease to pain of losing Fives.

Echo sits down in your bunk as you join him, he lays his head on your should in defeat and before you knew it Echo started telling stories of him and Fives from during the war. He told you everything from when they were in Domino squad all the way up to Echo's very last moments at the citadel. You knew it was the effects of the daze he was in that was making him talk about the past and based of how Echo was telling the stories and a few chuckles in between his stories you knew Echo need to talk about his brother in order to process and grieve.

Once Echo was in the mid of his daze you could tell there was a shift in his dimeter, he would lift his head from your shoulder, ask if you wanted to play a prank on one of the other members of The Bad Batch, he would have a well developed plan in store for every member even a contingency plan in store. You could see a glimmer of the man who use to be prior his capture to the separatist. Granted you never knew Echo from before, but by how he is being devious right now is a nod in favor to his lost brother Fives.

Before you can even attempt any of the pranks to the other Batchers Echo is finding himself drifting off in your bunk, he has your hand in a death grip almost as if he is afraid that if he lets go you will also be nothing but a memory. So you do what you feel is natural and lay beside him as he starts to lull himself to sleep, as you get settled laying on your back you all of a sudden feel arms around your waist and Echo's head now resting on your chest.

*If you made it this far welcome to my mind (scary place right?) Not going to lie Echo was the fun one to write for in this head canon. If you want SUMT (18+), Fluff, Angst etc…. then all you have to do is request it! Super simple. I can write for any clone you have your heart set on! Till next time :)

[hiddenhearthwitch]

do u have any tips/advice on how to identify and separate intrusive thoughts vs anxiety vs coincidence vs ‘this a fucking sign from the gods PAY ATTENTION’ cause tbh i feel so alone and def fuckng insane :)

First of all sugs, you're not alone. 💚 I definitely struggle with intrusive thoughts and it can be a terrible struggle between a "sign" and "wow you're in a park of course you saw a bird". You're not insane, there's just a lot in the world and even inside yourself for one human brain to process. I'm going to try to break this up into intrusive thoughts + anxiety then into coincidence + signs because it feels easier to lay out that way. We'll talk magical and mundane ways to work through this. I'm sending you good vibes babes. 🤍✨

I constantly have to remind myself that thoughts are not facts and I shouldn’t believe everything I think.

Sometimes when I have an intrusive thought I visualize myself as this dope ass paladin and I literally fight my thoughts away? I just close my eyes and meditate and focus on being the strong person I want to be and slay my own dragons. Sometimes that’s too hard and I just picture All Might because he’s Best Dad, if you have a favorite character I would give it a shot.

Aromatherapy bracelets and necklaces can be super helpful as well. Medicinally speaking lavender, chamomile, and opium would be the most mentally easing. Magically speaking pine, oak, lavender, valerian root, and hawthorn are all great for stability/protection in my experience. 

I personally carry around a sachet of onyx, rose quartz, lavender, pine, and oak.

You can minimize the damage of intrusive thoughts with self-help. This includes being mindful in the wake of an intrusive thought. Don’t waste your time obsessing over why you had that thought or what it all means. I’ve noticed once I learned to get past asking, “why am I thinking this?” all the time they don’t weigh as heavily on me. You are not your thoughts.

Intrusive thoughts are kind of just like a really loud boombox to me. Usually, if I listen to music I can really get into I can quiet down the thoughts. For the past four months or so Nujabes has been amazing musician to turn too. This past month Modal Soul has been the album that helps the most. It usually takes me a full album to feel normal again and I feel albums give me more stability than a playlist but honestly do what’s best for you.

Compulsive behavior can manifest when you try to change who you are based on the intrusive thoughts you experience. Changing who you are and your reality because of a thought that isn’t necessarily rational is the worst way to go about it. Stop trying to change who you are so you can adjust to your thoughts. Try to think about yourself in a third person perspective, “what would (insert name here) do in this situation?” This might not work for everyone but it’s helped me out once I started noticing the patterns.

From a magical perspective I’ve noticed moonstone is the stone that helps me the most. However most of my intrusive thoughts are PTSD related and I feel like moonstone helps me because it’s also stabilizing and can help prevent dissociation. I do also really enjoy onyx, tigers eye, and rose quartz as well!

Learn to recognize the starting signs for your intrusive thoughts. When my intrusive thoughts begin, they usually start off pretty simple. It’s one thought that feeds into a bigger insecurity or fear. Once you can spot the first thought you can start fighting it.

On the focus of coincidence versus a sign:

If I'm unsure if it's a sign I ask myself why I'm looking for a sign or if my gods made it clear to me to look out for one. Am I in a turning point in my life? Do I know I need guidance? Did previous divination point towards a sign coming my way?

Sometimes coincidence is the sign. If you're trying to decide if you want a purple or green wedding fit and you're driving down the road and see a shit ton of purple cars. I would call that a sign. If it's something you're actively thinking about and then it's glaringly in your face - I read that as a sign.

I've personally asked my gods to send me a sign three times if they're trying to tell me something. So that way I know.

I also take into account where I am. For example: I tend to read falcons and hawks as a sign or general greeting from Freyja. I live five miles from a national park though - hawks are every where, if I'm looking I can pretty much always find one or two on the way to or from work. Not really a sign if it's just local ecosystem at play.

That being said - they can still be signs. It's one thing if a bird of pray is just sitting on a lamp post. It's another to see it sitting on my car or catching a snake right outside my window. Common things aren't always signs - it can just be the mundane. That's when it's important to think about how it appeared and how it made you feel. Intuition is a powerful tool.

Ask yourself how you're feeling. I know this is probably a typical response but I know I personally read into everything when I'm anxious. I will catastrophize. Anything and everything becomes a sign of impending doom, fear of failure, etc. It's important to be aware of your inner dialogue and feelings when looking for signs.

If divination is a strong suit for you, consider using your divination tools as a way to verify if something was or was not a sign.

This is 100% personal belief but if a deity comes to me in a dream I will always read it as a sign. My dreams with gods are far and few between but relationships with them run very deep.

I'm not sure if any of this really helped or made sense but I hope it did. Good luck on your endeavors friend. 💐

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 19: Feet

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 4965

Warnings: one instance of gendered language, the rest is gender neutral, foot fetish, foot job, toe licking, some angst for spice, reader is implied to have had a bad/abusive past but nothing is specifically mentioned in that regard

A/N: sorry I got so sidetracked for a minute there efvkefkeke but I'm back to finish these Kinktober prompts at last lol

⭐

You’re halfway through the door, tray of tea and afternoon snacks in hand, when you come to an abrupt, china rattling halt just over the threshold. That you very nearly send scalding hot liquid splashing across the floor doesn’t even seem to register in that moment as you incredulously widen your eyes at the back of Baizhu’s head. You’d expected to find the chair in front of his desk empty and the bed soundly occupied but — a quick, surreptitious glance at the neatly straightened sheets assures you you’re not imagining things, and you had in fact walked in on the exact opposite. 

What was he thinking?

“Doctor?” You call over, soft and politely tentative. 

He doesn’t even have the grace to act surprised at being caught, nor does he turn to look at you, and just keeps writing in the heavy ledger spread open before him without pause. 

“Ah, is it that time already?” He says over his shoulder in that always pleasant tone. “I thought I still had a chance to get a bit more work done before you came back and shackled me to my bed again.” 

“That’s not funny.” You sigh in defeat and shuffle further inside to come up alongside him at the desk. 

Standing there for a moment, you just watch him scribble away, dip his brush in the ink and carefully touch it to paper again before continuing on with nary a sign of interruption in the flowing script. You couldn’t quite make out what it said though — not because his penmanship was bad or anything. It was all clean and precise, and nearly perfectly balanced across the sheet but you didn’t know how to read half of the complicated characters, having never been taught more than a few of them. Baizhu was actively trying to rectify that but, well. You hadn’t quite made it that far yet. 

At last, you draw a pointed breath when he still won’t stop long enough to look up and actually acknowledge you. “What are you doing, doctor? You should be resting. You know that.” 

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware you’re concerned about me overexerting myself and I do appreciate the care.” He chuckles softly, pausing to dip the long handled brush into the inkwell again. “But a tiny bit of inventory isn’t going to kill me, dear. I promise.” 

“Inventory?” You echo him in confusion. “How are you able to do that without looking in the storeroom or what’s stocked in the pharmacy?” 

Finally bringing his head up to offer you a small, gentle smile, Baizhu gestures somewhat vaguely at the room at large. “This is both my home and my livelihood, isn’t it? One would find me quite lacking if I wasn’t even aware of what inventory moves quickly and what lingers for a while. It’s not too difficult to estimate the daily needs of the pharmacy based on my years of previous experience keeping everything running as it should.” 

You were undoubtedly impressed by that, your brows lifting in surprise and something not unlike awe, and yet you still find yourself saying, “But what if something has suddenly changed and your estimates aren’t correct?”

Noising a brief sound of consideration, Baizhu lifts his unoccupied hand to thoughtfully touch the backs of his knuckles to his chin. “Hm, changed in what way? If there was a sudden influx of sick people all suffering from the same symptoms and, therefore, requiring the same kind of medicine, I certainly would have heard about it and could easily make the proper adjustments.” 

“But … I don’t know, what if someone was stealing from you?”

He blinks at that as he slowly glances up at you again. The tiny little smile that pulls at his mouth promptly makes you flush under his ever watchful eye. “Oh? And have you been helping yourself to my herbs, dear girl?” 

“N - no, of course not! I wouldn’t even think to do something like that!”

Chuckling, he serenely turns back to the ledger again. “I know you wouldn’t. I was only teasing you a little bit.” 

Trying not to pout and failing rather miserably at it, you turn your head away from him only to spot Changsheng curled up in a tight coil on the far windowsill, sunning herself in the mid morning sun. Well, at least that explained her suspicious lack of commentary thus far. Stamping down the urge to heave yet another sigh, you shuffle forward to place the tray on the corner of the desk. There wasn’t any use in trying to argue the matter further. Baizhu always had a ready answer on hand no matter what you questioned him about, and his need for bedrest was no different from the inventory in that regard.

“Would you care to sit with me for a while?” 

Your head comes up halfway through the motion of turning to leave, but his attention remains focused on what he’s writing. Perhaps you would have found it a bit off putting if only you were not quite so familiar with the doctor's usual habits and peculiarities. If he was asking you a question like that then it probably meant he was keen on having the company … or perhaps he just missed having Changsheng hanging off his neck. Not that you could exactly crawl on top of him and take her spot or anything but the sentiment was still a nice one, wasn’t it? 

“You wouldn’t find it too distracting to have me hovering around you, doctor?”

“Of course not, dear. Having you around is always such a pleasure.” 

Even the teasing tone in his voice is not enough to keep the smile off your face. Your initial misgivings are long forgotten now as you step behind his chair over to the other side of the desk where you eagerly hop up to perch on the ledge. Laughing under his breath, Baizhu reaches over to briefly dip the brush in ink yet again and then continues on with his work. Content just to be sharing his space with him like this, you watch on for what feels like a lifetime. It was always like that, though. You could have sat with him in complete silence all day and never gotten bored of looking at him. 

But it doesn’t last forever, and your skin tingles warmly when he eventually slides his free hand over to lightly touch yours where it’s braced atop the desk. It’s an idle gesture, one that he doesn’t seem to give much thought considering the way his brush just keeps flicking over the blocky characters without even a moment's pause. If you didn’t know any better you would have almost thought it a subconscious action. Something his fingers felt compelled to do for no other reason than the close proximity of another person. 

You were just as familiar with this part of him as his stubborn refusal to heed the warnings of others, however, so you allow your fingertips to brush over his palm. It was nice being able to share such quiet amity with him, and you suspected he felt much the same way as you did. A simple comfort. 

“There,” He finally sets the brush aside some minutes later with a satisfied exhale. “That should just about do it, I believe. I’ll just have to double check everything is as it should be once I’m allowed back into the pharmacy again.” 

“Doctor Baizhu,” You can’t quite keep the soft inflection out of your voice now. “I already told you those jokes aren’t funny. We’re not holding you hostage or anything like that …” 

His elegant shoulders softly shake as he turns that fond look on you again. “I know you’re not, dear. But the way you and Gui act it’s like you think I’m going to shatter at the first upset though. You know I’m more resilient than that, don’t you?” 

Frowning, you shift your attention down to your lap. Sometimes you weren’t so sure about that … but before you can figure out how to articulate that in a way that wouldn’t make you sound like an anxious mother hen (an ironic role reversal if there ever was one) Baizhu brings his hand up to rest across your knee. He gives it a brief squeeze that makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself slowly glancing up from under the fall of your lashes. 

“Your heart is very much in the right place and I do appreciate it.” He tells you with perfect sincerity now. “I have no intention of admitting defeat so easily though. There are still many things I need to see to in this world before I can even think about crossing over to the next … teaching you how to read and write is right at the top of that list, for starters.” 

Your cheeks burn in shame and deep felt mortification alike. Baizhu had taken you in off the streets even when every shred of common sense should have dictated that it wasn’t a good idea to do so. Even Changsheng’s initial sass and uncertainty hadn’t been enough to dissuade him from it though, so you knew he wasn’t saying such things from a place of malice or discontent. He seemed to genuinely want the best for you — and that’s why you don’t protest when he runs his hand lower to comfortingly caress over your calf. 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He assures you with a gentle pat. “You’ve already made commendable progress in just the short amount of time we’ve been working on it. I’m very proud of you, you know.” 

You squirm, growing increasingly more flustered the more he not only talks but also touches you with that gentle familiarity. “Thank you, doctor. But … I'm just not sure how I can repay you for everything.” 

That wasn’t entirely true. You did have one idea. 

But you were always hesitant to instigate these sorts of encounters with him, mainly because regardless of how many times you went through the motions together Baizhu never sought you out himself. It was always you doing the pursuing, coming on to him and offering up thanks the only way you really knew how. He seemed perfectly willing once things got started so you didn’t necessarily think it was a matter of him not wanting to share the intimacy of a lover with you, but it did make you doubt yourself just a little bit. 

Even now the brush of his fingers on your leg remains innocent and unassuming as if the thought of where else this might otherwise lead had never even crossed his mind and he was perfectly content with simply appreciating the warmth of your skin against his. You weren’t sure if it was a result of him being so used to Changsheng’s near constant presence around his neck that made him this comfortable with casual touching or if he was just like this naturally, but he seemed not to want for anything more than that. Were you possibly overstepping some unspoken boundary when you laid yourself bare at his feet? Was he perhaps too polite and kind to tell you ‘no’ even if he really didn’t want it? 

You truly had no idea. Baizhu was so unlike anyone else you’d ever met that you really couldn’t make sense of him sometimes. The inventory, the way he refused to take care of himself amidst taking care of everyone else, the touching, his insistence that you should know how to read and write … he truly was an enigma. 

“You needn’t worry yourself about unnecessary things like that.” He tells you, and the affectionately gentle tone in his lilting voice just further throws you into turmoil. “I didn’t invite you into my home with the expectation of receiving anything in return so no thanks are necessary. Just keep doing your best every day and I’ll be perfectly content with that.” 

And isn’t that precisely why he deserved to be on the receiving end of such favors? 

Stealing another quick look at the far windowsill, you confirm that Changsheng is still softly snoozing away before shifting on top of the desk to fully face him. Baizhu tips his head in question, looking totally unawares, and it almost gives you pause. It’s a little hard to shake the feeling that perhaps you were the bad guy here, like maybe you were the one taking advantage of him, but … surely that wasn’t the case, right? If he didn’t want it he would have said so, wouldn’t he? 

You feel uncharacteristically shy, almost sheepish as you curl your leg up and brush the ankle against his thigh in clear suggestion. His expression promptly settles into a neutral look of understanding. He doesn’t show any signs of being pleased or excited by it, but he also doesn’t look repulsed by your advances either. Just accepting. Of you, of this — archons, even when he wasn’t teasing you he was still the most difficult and confusing man you’d ever known. 

“This isn’t something you need to do for me. You must know by now that I’ll be perfectly fine without it.” 

Face warming with what you think is probably shame, you nod in understanding. “I do, but … I’d like to make you feel good, if that’s okay.” 

Drawing a stitled breath that makes his narrow shoulders rise and then fall when he lets it out on a slow exhale, Baizhu loosely curls his fingers around your calf. Drags them lower to give your ankle a reassuring squeeze and then further down to nudge off your slipper. It hits the floor with a near silent flop against the hardwood, and then he’s cupping the heel of your foot in his palm. Gently lifting it to chest level, he bends to press a chaste kiss to your toes. 

“You’re very kind to me, dear, but I hope you don’t think I expect such favors from you just for providing you with a roof over your head.” He murmurs, and you give your head a shake this time. 

“That’s not it. I know you don’t. I just want to be able to do something for you in return …” And this was the only thing you knew how to do with any amount of skill. You were neither a scholar nor talented in any trade. You couldn’t read or write. Some days it felt like you struggled just to serve the tea properly. 

But this was something you had plenty of experience in and you liked to think you did it well. That doesn’t exactly disperse the niggling thought in the back of your mind that tells you you’re somehow forcing yourself on the doctor, that you were coercing or forcing him to give in. There’s a certain amount of guilt that comes with this, on your part at least, but you can’t quite seem to find the resolve to stop doing it. 

And Baizhu does give in, though not without an almost sad, barely noticeable softening of his strange burnished gold eyes. Still cradling your foot in his hand, he presses his mouth to the sensitive pad this time to make your toes flex at the ticklish feeling before lowering your leg. You watch him carefully direct it to his lap and a dull thrill races through you when the weight of him through his pants meets the arch. Using both hands now, he takes a moment to just fondle over the extremity and massage his fingers into your skin. An unexpected shudder dances up your spine when he locates a particularly tender spot that seems to bleed some of the tension from your body when he presses on it. 

Of all the things you’d expected to have to do for him this one had been relatively low on your list. Liking feet did not appear to be so strange or unheard of in the grander scheme, but you can’t quite decide how you actually felt about him using only this part of you to get off. Certainly other areas would make him feel even better — your mouth, at least, but he always kept his attention on your feet instead. That embarrasses you a bit too, if you were being honest, but the way he softly sighs in budding arousal stops you from pressing the matter. 

If this was what made him feel good then you would happily give that to him. 

“Your skin has gotten even softer since the last time,” He murmurs, clearly pleased by that. “Those herb scrubs are doing wonders to reverse the damage done before you came here. It really is a shame you had to struggle so much just to survive.” 

“It’s okay, since I don’t have to do those things anymore.” And you intended to keep it that way, no matter the cost or what it took. Baizhu had given you a new life, a new purpose for existing, so of course you would want to repay him. It was only natural, right? 

When he smiles it picks up the edge of sadness you can just make out in his eyes, but his voice remains soft and even toned. “Are you certain about this? I know you always seem eager to please but …” 

“I’m sure. You enjoy it, don’t you?” Pointedly curling your toes to nudge them against the faint bulge under your foot, you keenly observe the way his dark lashes give a slight flutter in response. He stirs underneath you, becoming more pronounced. A little thicker. But still, he doesn’t immediately jump at the chance. 

“I do. More than I’d like to admit, if I’m being honest.” His fingers tracing over the jut of your ankle bone, Baizhu regards you in quiet contemplation for a long moment before drawing a careful breath. “Thank you for having me in this way, dear. I don’t exactly have the time to cultivate many relationships, and taking on a lover seems … ill advised, given my condition. As long as you understand that there is a limit to what I can give you in return, I have no qualms about it.” 

Your stomach sinks. So that was it then, wasn’t it? His hesitancy didn’t stem from a lack of wanting but wary caution when his own mortality always at the forefront of his mind, dictating all of his decisions. What he could do, what he would allow himself to do, how much he would comfortably let another person in. That was the crux. 

Perhaps you should have felt bad about chipping away at his self erected defenses to end up at this point where he was openly admitting it to you, but somehow you just really don’t. 

You feel emboldened, in fact, and you gently rub the pad of your foot over him with a fresh spike of courage searing your veins. Baizhu hums a low sound in response and lets his eyes slip shut for a moment, just basking in the sensation. It was vindicating, in a way. Knowing it wasn’t a problem with you or the burden you’d been carrying when you came to him. The fact he’d held out this long — no doubt wanting to avoid any further exploitation — was a testament to his strength of will, but he was still human. He was still a man with all the hardwired urges and impulses of any other. 

Just as you’d thought, then. You really were the only one who could take care of him in this way. 

Directing your foot a little lower down, you take a moment to gently nudge at and tease the weight of his ballsack between his legs. You can see the growing tent in his pants now, straining up just above your toes. He looses a shuddering breath and slowly rolls his hips forward to grind himself on you. A sense of reluctance still remains, you can see it in the tense set of his shoulders, but that doesn’t quite stop him from acting on it. 

“You’ve already done so much for me, doctor Baizhu.” You whisper into the suddenly static air. “Let me do something for you now.” 

Hissing a low sound of wanting, he tips his face down to watch your foot slide up the now rigid length of his cock. A glossy strand of hair slips forward to hang over his shoulder, matching the crystal bauble that dangles off his glasses. It swings softly at the motion, drawing your attention to it for a brief stretch, but his attention remains locked on what you’re doing in his lap. You can tell he wants to, so you reach up a little higher to toe at the sash around his waist. 

“Untie this for me?” 

Baizhu hesitates only for as long as it takes you to blink, and then he’s stiffly bringing his hands up to tug at the knot. It comes loose with a near silent slither, not unlike one that Changsheng would make, and you dart your eyes up to make sure she was still where you’d last seen her. It didn’t look like she’d so much as moved since you’d entered the room some time ago though. Hopefully she really was fast asleep over there in the warm sun or she at least had the sense to keep pretending to be. The doctor wasn’t afforded many opportunities like this, and you knew he’d put an end to it immediately if she alerted him. 

But for now at least, he makes quick work of getting his soft pants pushed down enough to allow his cock to spring up between the two of you. A hot pulse of wanting spears through you at the sight, your desire to do more with it than simply rub your feet on it almost overpowering your higher functioning mind. But you pointedly stay on track, and lift your leg to press that stiff length against his flat stomach. Using this to brace against, you start to rub the pad of your foot up and down, up and down the silky underside of him. 

Moaning very softly, Baizhu leans back in his chair to watch as if in transfixed silence. The light blanket he had resting over his shoulders fans out slightly with the shift, and you dare to scoot a little further over on the desk so that you’re sitting almost directly in front of him now. The soft rustle of movement settles back into silence again, interspersed only by the occasional chirp of a bird outside the window or the distant sounds of city life beyond. Lifting your eyes, you look Baizhu in the face. 

To your surprise, he’s looking back at you. 

“Thank you.” Is all he says, and the hushed tone of arousal in those two simple words makes your blood boil. Oh, how you wanted him to be yours so badly. 

“You needn’t thank me, doctor.” You murmur as you fan your toes out over the head of his cock and knead them down into the glans. It makes his chest hitch, his golden gaze taking on a far away, almost dreamy quality. 

Quickly, you bring your other foot up and snatch the slipper off that one too. You don’t even register the sound of it hitting the floor as you press in on the base to massage both ends of him at the same time. A faltering groan slips out of delicately parted lips, and he tips his head back to sigh up at the ceiling in appreciation. 

It’s a bit awkward like this, but you soon find a steady rhythm that has your feet moving over him in tandem while he sedately rolls his hips forward to fuck himself on the pads, arches and toes. Just as every other time it’s escalated to this, Baizhu shows no visible signs of uncertainty now and, in fact, he’s actually quite open about how much he’s enjoying it. You can see the deep rise and fall of his chest gradually become more pronounced, the muscles in his stomach flexing tight with each slow motion grind against your feet. He’s beautiful like this. Even more so than he usually is, and you idly wonder if he would allow himself to express his pleasure more vocally if it was just the two of you. No employees or snakes, or zombie children to potentially alert and interrupt the moment. 

Maybe if you did well enough he would let you find out some day. 

“Are you sure this is enough?” You finally venture to ask when his straining cock pulses eagerly under your toes. It was no exaggeration to say that you would have given him anything he wanted, no matter how strange or demeaning it may have been, but he only gives his head a distracted shake. 

“Yes, dear, just like this is fine. More than fine, actually.” Drawing a shuddering breath, Baizhu brings his attention back down as he lifts a hand up to grasp your topmost foot. He takes a moment to covetously squeeze it, feeling along the skin before carefully guiding it towards his chest once again. “I don’t think I’m in any position to ask for more anyway, but this is plenty. I’m afraid I can’t seem to get enough of these cute toes of yours as it is.” 

Your heart stutters a beat when he bends his head over your captured limb and instead of leaving it at just the kiss he reverently presses into the toes, he opens his mouth to lick over the thin layer of skin as well. The sensation makes you jolt, especially when he drags his tongue between the first two digits to attack the sensitive webbing inside. You seethe and try very hard not to yank your foot away when it tickles almost enough to make you squeal. Baizhu doesn’t appear all that concerned about it though, and he merely peers up at you from over the rim of his glasses. Watching your reaction, or perhaps gauging how much you could take before you couldn’t reasonably keep your voice in check any longer. Either way, he’d never taken it quite this far before and you had no idea what to make of it. 

Not the fact he was doing it at all or the startling revelation that comes with it. You hadn’t expected the space between your toes to be this sensitive, and you shudder despite yourself. 

“D - doctor …!” 

He lets out a low sound of pleasure, warm breath puffing against damp skin as he reaches over with the opposite hand to grasp the foot still keeping his cock pinned. Fondling over it, he maintains his eye contact with you when he swipes his tongue between your toes a second time, and you really do almost recoil. You’d never felt anything quite like it before. Soft and warm, and squishy, and you really weren’t sure how you felt about it wriggling over your toes like that. 

Pulling in a quiet gasp, you clutch the edge of the desk in a death grip while he grinds his throbbing cock against one foot and licks at the other. His breathing was quickly turning ragged, his cheeks a little flushed. It makes your head spin to see him like that, but somehow the borderline ticklish sensation of his tongue almost manages to distract you from it. 

If he ever put his mouth on the spot between your legs like that … 

“Ohh, goodness,” Panting, Baizhu hunches forward over your legs with a full bodied shudder. The motion of his hips falters for a split second and then morphs into something a bit more urgent. More needy. His cock stiffly works back and forth, back and forth across the soft arch of your foot, along the pad and up to nudge your toes before dragging back down again. 

It’s not hard to imagine him rutting inside your body this way, and it pulls a low moan from the back of your throat. The sound seems to tip him over the edge and, brows knitting in deeply felt pleasure, he presses his mouth firm against the bottom of the foot he’s still clasping, hissing against the skin. His sputtering length gives a muted twitch. You can feel the dull, subsequent contractions that follow as it pumps out a thin jet of creamy fluid to coat your extremity, and then another. He goes still with one final spurt, issuing a frazzled, sensitive moan that quietly trails off into nothing. 

The resounding silence is almost too much for you to bear. 

“I’m sorry,” He wheezes at length, once he’s calmed his breathing down some. “I seem to have made quite a mess.”

“It’s alright.” Trying to keep your voice pleasantly even, you curl your toes down into the softening cock to lightly massage it. “As long as you feel good that’s all that matters. I’m just glad I can do something for you …” 

Releasing a stilted exhale, he gingerly straightens up in his chair. You don’t miss the vague grimace that crosses his lovely face when he sees the sticky evidence of your illicit activities, and Baizhu softly tuts as he reaches into a pocket to withdraw a dainty handkerchief. He uses it to wipe up the clumpy mess with another soft word of apology, his hands gentle where they touch. Looking at him like that, bent over your feet and sincerely apologizing for something you’d talked him into doing, you once again find yourself being hit with a strange sense of guilt. It was only natural to want to thank him with such favors … wasn’t it? 

So then why did you feel like you’d done something wrong?

⭐

Crossposted: here

[uefb]

Hey, so I just watched the third Fantastic Beasts movie and I was wondering if you noticed any autistic traits of Newt's in that one? I remember spotting so many in the first two, so I was kind of disappointed that I wasn't able to find anything new this time. (Honestly, it felt like there wasn't much character exploration at all with Newt, except maybe at the very end?)

Hi, beanwood! Thanks for the ask. It’s interesting you noticed this! Because I will admit that I noticed less of Newt’s autistic qualities in the 3rd film myself (though I did notice some!). I think there are a number of reasons for this decrease — in fact, it is something @afrenchaugurey and I have discussed quite a few times actually! I’ll go into that later. First I’ll share what I did notice (from memory), when viewing Newt through an autistic lens as an autistic & neurodivergent person watching Secrets of Dumbledore (SOD/FB3).

(I’d like to apologise in advance for some language that might not be fully autistic-affirming moving forward. While I am autistic myself, I am also a researcher in fields that have traditionally pathologised autistic traits, and my language unintentionally reflects my training on occasion. Unfortunately, I currently do not have the spoons to go through and ensure that everything sounds appropriate. I therefore appreciate your understanding and patience.)

Anyway, while I agree with you that there are less autistic traits than in previous films, below are some arguably autistic traits or co-occurring indicators (based on my own experience and knowledge of clinical & empirical research) that I noticed! (Though these are not exactly new, which is what you may have been hoping for.)

Newt does stim quite a bit in the SOD/FB3, though it is subtle, mostly relegated to his coat pockets and consistent but very slight rocking/fidgeting/re-adjusting. You can see a rather crappy TikTok video (as I wasn’t doing edits on my computer yet) I made a few years ago (on an acct that is no longer active) highlighting Newt’s exceptionally subtle stimming in the first hour of FB3 here.

Newt continues to avoid eye contact during both one-on-one interactions and when addressing groups.

Newt does not always seem to notice subtle emotional nuances or jokes in group settings.

Newt seems, reasonably, attached to his case when Bunty takes it from him, even wordlessly asking Dumbeldore about it with a hand motion at one point. This could be interpreted as his case being a fixture of routine or comfort, common in autistic folks.

Newt’s flat affect, in this film, seems to be somewhat of a a boon to interacting with high-profile officials, as he seems somewhat unbothered by the high stakes of the situations and the potential social & political risks of simply walking up to — say — Herr Vogel, for example.

Additionally — regarding special interest — his hyperfocus on his creatures while talking with Theseus’ jailer in the Erkstag seems out-of-step with what one might expect from someone about to walk into a pseudo-authoritarian prison setting.

When Newt finds Theseus in the Erkstag, he answers Theseus’ questions about the creature situation by somewhat info-dumping about a laboratory experiment he’d conducted on creature behaviour to explain his reasoning. He seems not to entirely notice that that response probably wasn’t that reassuring to Theseus at all.

Newt does not reciprocate social interactions on several occasions — he misses his brother Theseus’ social cues in the first big group scene; he does not verbally reply to several characters in the films (such as Herr Vogel’s assistant), even when such reciprocal communication (or even basic serve & return) might be expected.

Newt does seem to lose some access to speech under extreme pressure during his back-and-forth with grindelwald about the Qilin twins. (This is reflected more in Redmayne’s performance than the script, IIRC.) While this is typical for many people, it harkens to newt’s earlier characterisations.

Newt utterly misses the loaded communication from Bunty while he has his case open toward the end of the film in Bhutan (when Tina’s picture is visible). Then, Bunty says something in response to Newt saying you don’t know what you have until it’s gone (referring to his case), which was apparently in reference to her own crush on Newt (now that Newt is pretty obviously with Tina). Newt did not seem to clock this comment as anything at all. (…..and, frankly, neither did I. I had to ask my wife to explicitly explain the scene to me after my 4th or so rewatch. I remain clueless and it is lucky I am married, given my utter inability to read romantic nuance.)

So yeah, I agree with you that the last film demonstrates fewer autistic traits consistent with Newt’s behaviour in the first 2 films, apart from those marked final scenes (Tina/newt, newt & dumbledore.) One could argue that the noticeable behaviour in the scene between Tina & Newt outside the bakery is due to either (a) the removal of Newt from a high-stress, goal-focused heist situation into a more intimate personal situation combined with (b) social anxiety manifesting around people he cares deeply about (particularly given his history of miscommunication with Tina), or social anxiety around romantic situations in general. It’s also possible that (c) a heightened sensitivity to physiological cues associated with anxiety or ‘butterflies,’ due to sensory sensitivity affects his behaviour in the Newtina scene — physiological stress (in my anecdotal, personal experience) can make one flustered or struggle with speech, as attention is repeatedly and emphatically and uncomfortably drawn elsewhere in the body. (Or it could be something ENTIRELY different, like a script rewrite or massive editing that jettisoned consistent character development.) But, whatever the case — yes, I agree Newt seems most…. Well… Newt! in his interactions with Tina and Dumbledore at the end of the film.

(Though if you haven’t seen the missing scene of Theseus & Newt between Newt leaving China and Theseus & Newt going to Hogsmeade… That’s rather a treasure trove of autistic-coded Newt, imho!! You can watch it here.)

As for the reasons why this change may have happened… I believe there are a few possibilities…

Personally, I think the fact that Secrets of Dumbledore (SoD/FB3) is structured more like a “heist” film than the earlier FB films plays a big role in that — character development was secondary to plot (which was, admittedly, a bit convoluted).

From an out-of-world (e.g., non-character, non-plot, non-worldbuilding perspective), I think it’s quite possible that Warner Brothers & co. were trying to appeal to as broad an audience as possible. I say this for a few reasons… (a) reactions to Newt as a character back in 2016 and 2018 were as polarised as you would expect for an autistic-coded main character in a mainstream action/adventure series. This might have inspired a shift in characterisation in FB3. Additionally, (b) by 2022, FB3—according to Warner Bro.—needed to be a box office hit. It was affected by Covid filming issues, JKR’s continued inane & controversial comments, actor drama & controversy, and generally non-HP level earnings at the box office for Crimes of Grindelwald/FB2…. Messy! Producers might have thought a less socially awkward/autistic Newt would make it more palatable. I haven’t seen any evidence of producers’ defending newt’s characterisation since the FB2 era. But who knows. This is all guesswork.

However, from an in-universe perspective, some time has passed since CoG/FB2. Based on Lally’s comments in Jacob’s bakery at the beginning of the film, approximately 1 year has passed (1927/8ish?). According to the screenplay, 5 years have passed (1932). (I tend to align myself with the 1932 timeline, due to subtle historical indicators; my own beliefs about Tina & Newt’s different characterisations in FB3; and the lack of lasting impact Leta’s death seems to have on Theseus & Newt by the time FB3 rolls around.) Anyway. I mention the time skip because I think it’s possible that a time skip allows for Newt’s character to minorly shift in a few ways…. (a) It allows Newt to settle into his confidence as a respected magizoologist, as well as gain distance from (i) World War 1 and (ii) young adulthood insecurities — trauma, anxiety, and diminished sense of self and belonging can exacerbate traits of neurodivergence. (b) A time skip additionally — (theoretically) — allows for Newt to become more comfortable with people like Jacob, Theseus, Dumbledore etc. (and for them to become more used to him!), potentially further diminishing Newt’s anxiety or certain autistic traits. Because autistic traits like stimming, for example, often correlate with higher levels of social stress or attempts to manage uncontrollable situations in controllable ways, Newt may rely less on these self-soothing methods because there is frankly less of a need. Conversely…

Newt might also be more self-aware by FB3. He’s in his 30s by now. It’s possible that he’s masking his autistic traits during the middle of the film due to the political environment and high stakes situation in which he is functioning.

Anyway! Long story short, those are my thoughts!!!!! (Hope you actually wanted them, because you tapped into UEFB special interest, infodump mode.) I’m sure there’s more to be said, but that’s all my old brain can do for now. Thanks for the ask, beanwood, and I hope you are well!

Finally, I’m curious: What inspired you to ask me this in particular? Was it my utter flooding of the #autisticNewtScamander tag over the past few years? A particular post? My fics? Byyye.

[kremechihihi]

My Yoyo Design(s)!!!!

While messing around w/ the Yoyo doodle from my last blog post, I found that adjusting the hue by 25% to the right gets you his jsrf palette. Coincidence or not, I ran with that logic and thought of creating a new Yoyo design with what I got from sliding the hue adjustor all the way to the right : purple and blue.

But before running with purple jacket blue hair Yoyo just like dat, I wanted to try n analyze his canon looks n take note of the constants in both desoigns which are : red ractangular shades, baggy clothing, hanging belt, hooded upper wear, dark-colored bottom wear, bigger (compared to others) round yellow hued skates, and ofc his smug ass grin.

More importantly, his character color palette utilizes red, orange, yellow, green, and blue only which made this redesign thing a little challenging,,,

,,,and challenging it was 😵‍💫 i wanted to try pushing a 7 hue palette on him to sort of break from his usual scheme and make the look more ‘new’ buut obviously it didn’t work out. so i stuck with the usual 5 hue limit and wowers it works!!!

As for the design itself i wanted to go for a layered look. Gave him a cargo vest cus i thought it’d look sick on em + gives off the same tactical look his “bullet sling” looking sash from his future design does. Instead of a hanging belt, I went with a hanging suspender (?) similar to what tripp pants have. Double layer ripped jeans for a way to add color to the usual dark bottom wear, also to have (lime) green stand out in his overall look similarly with his canon designs. As for the skates…they’re not exactly skates. He’s wearing sneakers but with this chunky round skates sole that’s removable so he can wear/show off his counterfeit sneaker collection while being able to skate around town. For the sake of this design, I wanted the sneakers and soles to have a similar yellowish hue to counter the usual yellow skates with black/navy grey design. Similar to future, his hair is exposed but it’s messy and unkempt like what i assume his og hair is. Lastly, the shades are all-red and sport-like in shape.

In the end, I am satisfied with how he looks but I still wanted to make a Yoyo design based on my own tastes and color scheme. So here’s anotha wan!!!!!!!!

Originally just an alt color palette, I turned it into its own design cus why not.

This time I’m following the idea that instead of a hue adjustment, his hair is the color of the previous design’s jacket which is turquoise! 5 hue rule applies here too.

Kept the same idea for the shoes, but now his socks can be seen. His hair roots are grown out (though i personally think it’s just bleached). He’s got a headband keeping his bangs away, orange fingerless arm warmers, and lime ish olive green cargo pants. Jacket is now royal blue going indigo cus i’ve always thought it’s his favorite color n i really just wanted to see it as a main color in his design from just his og skate wheels color. Instead of a belt, the open rings in his jacket have three ribbons hanging made to look like an arrow, in reference to the arrow designs on his og skates as well. Aaand lastly the shades, kinda wanted to stick with all red again but what if red frames and white/transparent lens 🧐 an inversion of his og sunglasses. It’s asymmetrical in shape to form a silly eye expression.

Anyway that iz all, designing these were an inch resting experience. Considering doing other character redesigns as well but not anytime soon, i got other stuff going on.

[cursedbeasts]

Gardening

Fandom: warhammer 40k, forges of mars

Characters: Kenaz (oc), Hirimau Dahan

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Summary:

Dahan wants to learn how to be gentle. Kenaz offers to teach him.

Dahan knelt next to the strip of dark soil, with Kenaz nestled in the crook of his body. Their small hands rested on top of his, slowly guiding him in making a small mound around the base of a tiny sapling.

Dahan focused on the fine control it required to be careful. The plant was small and incredibly fragile. Like Kenaz. And Dahan had already damaged several other plants, using too much power or cutting pieces off with his claws. 

Kenaz was so patient with him, though. They never got mad, they simply guided him to try again as a servitor arrived and cleaned up the previous attempts. 

“Why do you do this?” Dahan asked. “There are servitors and machines that take care of the crops.”

“I know. I just like taking care of plants.” 

Kenaz’s antennae wiggled a little, before settling in a slightly forward position. Dahan puzzled over what it meant, then came to a conclusion that it represented curiosity and interest. 

“I did it back on Urum to get away from things. It’s peaceful. Quiet.”

Dahan considered Kenaz’s perspective. Even though his last encounter with plant life was on Catachan, he was fond of forests and wild places. Places where he could climb a tree and jump from branch to branch like the ancient ancestors of Man probably did back on Terra. 

It was the closest to peace a warrior like him could experience. 

“My last dealings with plant life were far from peaceful.” He finally said. “Have you ever heard of a world called Catachan?”

“I don’t think so, let me look it up…”

Their three oculars flashed as they accessed a noospheric knowledge database.  

“Hm. I see! Catachan sounds like a scary place.” They finally said, inloading a packet of data on Catachan. “Well, these plants aren’t going to try and eat you. In fact, they go into nutrient paste and meals for the more fleshy adepts. So we eat them.”

Dahan chuckled. 

“Sweet, sweet revenge.”

Kenaz gently squeezed his hands, guiding them away from the perfectly formed mound.

“You’re doing great!”

He let Kenaz hold his hands. Their hands could barely encircle three of his fingers. Dahan stared at them, transfixed. 

“Omnissiah, you are so small.” Dahan said softly. 

Kenaz chirped in responce. 

“And you are very big.” 

They leaned back a little, resting the back of their head on Dahan’s chest. His body emanated faint warmth that the sensors on Kenaz’s body caught. It was nice. It made them feel safe. 

“That, I am.” Dahan agreed. 

Kenaz took his arms and carefully wrapped them around themself. Dahan froze, all his focus on being careful. Slow, steady, controlled. Like planting a small, precious sapling. He put the tiniest amount of force into squeezing Kenaz lightly, holding them close. 

They turned around in his embrace, burying their face in his chest with a happy little chirp. His chest was solid, all grafted muscle and metal implants somewhere underneath, but Kenaz still found it comfortable to lay their head on. It was also faintly warm.

Dahan couldn’t help but smile. It was a crooked thing, but it was earnest and born of genuine happiness. He felt Kenaz’s mechadendrites wrap around his waist in a tight hug. 

He lifted one of his hands and started to stroke Kenaz’s back. His movements were controlled and slow, and came off as somewhat stilted as he adjusted to using little force. He had nothing to compare this to, his databanks being full of combat information and little else. 

It felt good, though. Dahan felt a surge of protectiveness mixed with something warm overcome him. He wanted Kenaz to be safe and happy. That task rose in importance until it placed itself next to his quest for knowledge.