#(PLEASE let me know what trigger tags i might need to add to this one)

[detective-prince-pkmn]

Pelipper mail: a dream.

You are in your childhood home, if you could even call it a home. Another customer came by, and your mother is exhausted from the service she's provided to him, but trying not to show it. Her makeup is smudged. She hums to herself, fixing up a black eye from a man who got a little too rough. She's used to it.

"Goro, your hair's getting long," she says, finally putting down the makeup, the brushes and creams and powders she uses to make herself appealing, marketable, consumable. "Did your father ask you to grow it out?"

You see yourself in the mirror, too-- all made up for tv, with your perfect smile of unassuming youth, dripping in nonthreatening masculinity, your long hair styled to be smooth and trendy. You look far too much like your mother.

"We're the same, you and I," she says, pulling back her hair. The ligature marks around her neck are all too familiar, from the last time you ever saw her, and she begins casually covering them with blobs of foundation. "Dolling ourselves up for others to play with. I did this so you wouldn't have to, Goro. There's not much of me left, after all the men came and ate their fill."

She turns, makeup crumbling away to show the rot underneath her skin. She is a corpse. You know this. You have seen corpses on your job, know the process of rigor mortis by heart. But she is your mother.

"They will eat you alive, Goro. Those men, those wolves, they will eat you alive or they will make you into one of them. I thought I raised you better, kept you away from the kind of predators who'd take a bite out of you. What have you become?"

You realize with a horrifying certainty that you are not decaying, not like her. In fact, the Goro Akechi in the mirror looks…hungry.

im sirry im si sorru i dobr wany to ve lije rhem i dony i donr i dont im sorry thsts not it thos isbr wgar i wsntwd im dony kbow i hste ir too in sorey

("I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I don't want to be like them I don't I don't I don't I'm sorry that's not it this isn't what I wanted I don't know I hate it too I'm sorry")

[itwasrealtome]

THIN ICE

Olivia Benson x fem! reader

⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

ANGST | Olivia Benson x fem! detective reader | Masterlist

Summary : Detective Y/N Y/L/N, part of Olivia Benson’s Special Victims Unit, faces a life-threatening situation during a suspect’s arrest, chasing this one into an ultimate falls to his death. Injured but alive, Y/N finds herself in an hospital room, receiving stern words from Olivia about her reckless actions.

Content Warning : Mention of stimulants to stay awake | Mention of a breakup | Mention of police work | Mention of jumping off a building | Some police man being a jerk | Usual SVU talk : Abuse, murder, violence, weapon and kidnapping | Y/N getting into a fight | People falling from a building | Injuries | Death | Hospital | OLIVIA BEING MAD | HEARTBREAK

A/N : Hello my loves. I'm finally sharing this first Olivia X reader with you. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are a few people I can't identify in the taglist, I'm sorry.

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•••

This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

That was all she could get out of the young detective. Amanda knew it as she watched her turn toward the window. The mere reflection of her face gave her a glimpse of what she was really feeling inside, a sweet mixture of anger and bitterness. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something they could fix with a drink. And this worried the blonde even more.

— Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.

These words captured the passenger's interest again. She arched an eyebrow at her partner, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. Knowing their duo’s dynamics, she had dozens of retorts on the tip of her tongue, all of them a little more mischievous than the last. Instead, she just shook her head gently. Amanda didn't have to know how upset she was about the whole thing. She didn’t deserve to worry so much. And Y/N certainly had no right to be such a burden to her partner.

— Like what? Jumping off a building? y/n chuckled at the blonde’s glare. Relax. I won’t do anything of that kind, I promise.

At that very moment, the young detective genuinely meant it. She had not gotten up with such an idea in mind. If jumping off a building was regarded as a very stupid gesture, she considered her routine more so.

It was in the way the precinct’s bunks were beginning to feel like home. And how she spent every second of her days with the badge on her waist. She had no idea when she had last stepped into her apartment for more than a shower. Her desk was overflowing with paperwork and books in which she always found a way to bury herself. It was much more than a way to distract herself. At all costs, she avoided raising her head, out of fear of meeting the gaze that froze her every time. The path she was on was, for that matter, significantly more dangerous than whatever stupid thing Amanda was thinking about.

But she could not say that to her.

To anyone, actually.

— Weren't we just called to make sure that this jerk wasn't prowling around the residence?

In any other context, Y/N would have felt like a fool. Her back nearly arched as she tried to make out what was going on in a street they weren't even close to yet. She may have lacked sleep and insight into her personal life, but her cop intuition never failed her.

— You'd be sure of that if you'd listened to a single word the captain said.

— Something’s wrong.

Amanda brought them to the next intersection before momentarily stopping the car. The sight over her partner’s shoulder sent a chill down her spine. Despite years of experience, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline every time. The crowd of cops down the street certainly wasn’t helping. They were everywhere. Mostly hidden behind their vehicles. But their vests did not go unnoticed and neither did their weapons pointed at a specific target.

— Crap, I hate when you’re right about this stuff.

— Hum…what was that you were saying about our captain again? y/n faced her friend with a teasing smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself. Always listen to what sh–

The sudden acceleration of the vehicle silenced Y/N. She felt grateful once again that her belt was keeping her safe. No day went by without her being in some kind of danger, but she never thought she’d have to worry about dying while Amanda was behind the wheel.

— Would you please stop doing that? cried the younger detective, her hands still clutching the top handle. And since when do you drive so badly? Damn it.

— Guess now you’ll stop driving like a maniac if I let you get behind the wheel.

The door swung shut before she could react. She stepped out of the car herself and walked over to Amanda. A vest was tossed in her face before she could even think about opening her mouth. But anyone who thought she would have given up so easily was wrong.

— I do not drive like a maniac.

Her friend gave her a knowing look as she closed the trunk. Now was definitely not the time to have this kind of conversation, but Amanda was glad her partner hadn’t lost everything that made her the person she was.

She was relentless, both in her work and in her personal life. To be defeated by a suspect in an interrogation room was a rare occurrence. Within the profession, many officers wondered about her career choice. They could imagine her leaving the field to terrify judges in a courtroom. Perhaps because they were themselves scared to death to face her. Seeking victory in a debate with a woman like Y/N was a waste of time. She knew when she was wrong, and would always acknowledge it. Nevertheless, she also knew when she was right. And in those moments, Amanda was the first to grab a bag of popcorn.

— That you do.

The detective’s hands found the velcro on the vest from memory as she was too busy glowering at her friend. The protection weighed on her shoulders. It was almost enough to give her a reason to fall apart. That, and the weight of life that was beginning to take its toll on her.

Slightly defeated, she stomped over to Amanda to catch up with her. She knew the other detective was right. Her anger was evident in the way she drove. Since then, she was assigned the role of co-pilot. It was okay. But she loathed being deprived of her usual distraction. It was starting to loop in her mind. She needed a way out.

— Detective Rollins and Y/L/N, Special Victims Unit.

Amanda shoved her badge in the man’s direction, half-expecting him to tell her to piss off. He dominated the scene with his large stature and a rank evident to all. The rookies were following his orders and keeping their mouths shut. Something that obviously wouldn't work with Olivia Benson-trained agents. He didn't seem to mind, guiding the two detectives as close as possible to the scene. But then, the mere idea of having to send men into the building made him raise his chin in an authoritative, disapproving manner.

— Our only witness is trapped in this building, Rollins began the fight, finger pointing accusingly. I don't care how, I want that man in custody.

If one of them had looked up for even half a second, instead of fighting over who had the biggest –which was obviously Y/N in this situation– they might have been able to stop the young detective in her tracks. Amanda had had enough of listening to the man's whining as he waved his rank in her face. And her colleague, the one she was supposed to look after, was tired of simply waiting.

As discreet as a mouse in the middle of the city, Y/N circled the building and quickly found a fire escape. It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when the impulse to walk into the building first came to her, but she couldn't really say she'd given it much thought. With a bit of imagination, and a little help from a trash container, she managed to pull herself up to the top. Now, maybe that was the beginning of a crazy idea. She could already imagine her partner and captain scolding her - if, and only if, she managed to get out of there alive and intact.

At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, the detective stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of their suspect's agitated voice.

Thomas Patterson, 45, suspected of having violently abused his wife before killing her, and of abusing his stepdaughter - Johanne Morales. The man's profile was clear: a respectful-looking husband and father-in-law, loved by all, carefree, but once the door was closed he turned into a control freak with urges he simply couldn't escape. He clearly hadn't planned to kill his wife. The autopsy had revealed signs of haste and mistakes that a man like Patterson would never have made if he had prepared properly. But he had made mistakes. His blows had been too violent, Johanne had interrupted him, and he'd had to finish the job quickly - too quickly, in order to hide his crime.

Y/N had studied his profile carefully. That's what she did best, that and avoiding her captain. She knew he was restless, nervous, ready to do anything to cover up his actions. The final piece of the puzzle was to eliminate the only witness, the one who would go all the way to court to see him take the fall. She had an advantage over him. She was there, so close to the goal, and he was unaware of her presence. At least, that was until Amanda's voice came through the radio.

— Y/L/N, you've got two seconds to get your butt over here.

The young detective could have banged her own head against the wall. Boy, had she been stupid on that one. She clenched her jaw, the urge to bite her fist growing cumbersome as she prayed Thomas hadn't heard. But he definitely did.

A front door opened slowly, the creaking hinges betraying the building’s condition. The man was probably armed, the sound of the guard echoing in the empty corridor. Each of his steps shook the wooden floor and sent a current of adrenalin through Y/N's veins. He was getting closer. She could smell him and his perfume. Him and her fear.

As soon as he was close enough to round the corner of the stairwell, the young detective took this as her cue. She charged at the man, her hands reaching for the 9mm held firmly in his rough, bleeding hands. In a split second, the magazine slid out and collapsed on the floor. She sent it tumbling down a few steps with her boot, before landing a knee into the suspect’s parts. This only confused him for the briefest moment. He was on her again before she could even flinch. Her body hit the wall with a heavy thud, the vest shielding her body from the heavy impact. However, the man’s hands found her neck and tightened their grip, pulling her head violently forward and then pushing it back, slamming it against the concrete wall.

He repeated the motion twice more, the detective’s pleas of pain provoking a feeling he himself could not begin to describe. Y/N wasn’t done with him yet. He clearly wanted to lash out at a woman and had a nasty habit of underestimating them all. Only, today wasn’t his lucky day. He was forced into the apartment where he had deliberately tied up the young Johanne. It was his turn to bang into something. The dresser barely tilted behind him, but the vase crashed hard against the top of his skull. He felt the water run down his face, the smell of freshly bought flowers wafting through the air.

Back in a corner, Johanne tried desperately to struggle out of her bonds, her words puffed out by the duct tape over her mouth. She could only witness the struggle between her back-up and her assailant. Watching as Y/N unloaded all her pent-up anger on the man who had dared to cause so much harm. In one smooth motion, Thomas grabbed the detective’s gun, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Hope was soon lost, his chances of getting out of there alive and free close to zero. His opponent was relentless and had no intention of letting him slip away. His only option, he realized, a flash of light reflecting off the window, was to drag the detective with him in his fall.

Outside, Amanda was still arguing with the man in charge of operations. He hadn’t given up and neither had she. Only when, as the argument continued to escalate, gunshots were heard, followed by the shattering of a window pane, did they come to an agreement. The plan didn’t even have time to take shape before two bodies flew out of the building.

First, the blonde saw the man she recognized as their suspect crash hard to the ground, the collision knocking him down instantly. Then came a tremendous thump and the shrill sound of a car alarm. Straight ahead of her, on one of the patrol cars, had landed Y/N. The height of the fall meant that the roof of the vehicle had been crushed and some of the windows smashed. That wasn't what Amanda was most worried about. Her partner, the one who'd promised her she wouldn't do anything stupid – like jumping off the third floor of a building, was sprawled motionless on the broken glass, blood on the back of her skull.

— Oh my God, Y/N, in one stride, she was as close as she could get to her friend. Call an ambulance. Now!

For once, the man made himself useful, radio in hand, as he asked for help. He now stood with one, maybe two, even three victims to deal with if the detective didn't make it. He could already imagine the damage it would do to his career. Besides, he knew Captain Benson very well and had no desire to mess with her.

Needless was his worry. The more Amanda studied her friend, the more she realized how lucky she’s been. Y/N was simply stunned, staring at the New York sky with an uncharacteristic intensity. She began to laugh, full-throated, heartily. It was probably the adrenaline pumping again. Tears joined the party, leaving funny marks on her bloody cheeks. Suddenly, she remembered.

— Johanne. She's alive. Up there. Y/N looked up at Amanda expectantly. She needs help.

***

Captain Olivia Benson had seen enough in her career not to let anxiety get the better of her. She had been beaten, kidnapped, almost died and dragged through the mud in front of an entire courtroom. She had reached a point where facing certain types of suspects no longer made her lose her footing.

But someone was bound to make her lose it.

Briskly, almost to the point of knocking herself off her feet, she made her way through the corridors of a hospital she knew all too well. The distinctive clatter of her heels against the floor blended perfectly with the incessant beeping and distant hubbub of such a place. She wasn't there to see a victim, as she often was. Her hasty and agitated demeanor only aroused the suspicions of the medical staff who had crossed paths with her so many times. It wasn't just a professional matter.

It hadn't been for a long time.

When Olivia reached room 212, she didn't spare a moment's hesitation. One of her youngest detectives and latest recruit was sitting wisely on the edge of the bed, her legs wriggling in the air like a child's. A nurse was visibly busy behind her, dropping more and more glass flakes into her tray as she went. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes focused on the sight that made her stomach hurt in spite of herself.

She watched as Y/N's chest, covered in dried blood, continued to pulsate with every breath, as hematomas were already starting to spread across her face and torso, and as her plain face twisted in pain as soon as the nurse reached for another piece of glass. Just a few days ago, her first instinct would have been to rush to her protégé’s side and calm the agony she knew to be growing in her heart. But she'd vowed to keep her distance and stay in her current position: Captain Benson, unit chief.

All too quickly for the young detective's liking, the nurse finished her treatment and left the two law enforcement agents behind. Olivia had had the decency to wait until the door was closed before lashing out at her, which didn't stop Y/N from rolling her eyes. She'd already imagined this conversation - or rather, monologue - and knew she wouldn't come out of it unscathed. She'd probably lose her badge. No matter, she'd already lost her heart.

— Have you completely lost your mind? You could’ve been killed.

This was the cue for a lengthy sermon that she couldn't escape. The words left Olivia's mouth at a speed that seemed unbearable. She paced back and forth, her arms stretching out in waves of frustration and indignation, her cheeks rosy with emotion. She'd done some stupid things herself when she was just a rookie, but throwing herself off the third floor of a building had never been on the list.

— Are you done? y/n arched an eyebrow as Olivia finally paused. I saved a life today. While Amanda and that jerk were fighting over who had the biggest, which apparently I did.

— No, you refused to follow orders. Not only did you put yourself in danger, you put everyone's lives in danger. Heaven help us again that you were wearing your vest, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.

— I don't know why you care so much, you're just my boss!

Although these words were intended to hurt Olivia, it was Y/N who took the brunt of the blow. It was one thing to know that their relationship had been reduced to this, but it was quite another to admit it in person. The brunette was no longer entitled to worry so much, to ask her to watch out and send her a text as soon as she got home. Whatever had been was no more.

— Right, Olivia broke into an almost scoffing snort. Let me tell you, as your captain, that you won't be leaving the precinct for a long time.

— You’re benching me? Liv, you can’t do this!

— What you did was completely irresponsible. You don't want to follow orders, fine. But you're not leaving this desk without my permission.

The young detective had been holding her breath for a long time– far too long. She'd spent days avoiding conflict, lamenting in her corner, mourning the end of a story she'd thought would last forever. It wasn't just about what had just happened, it was something else, something more personal. She felt as if Olivia had no idea how to express her concern, as if her only option was to play the role of the big bad boss. But she was tired of hiding, of running away, of avoiding confrontation.

— Breaking my heart wasn't enough for you, uh? She rose from the bed, hastily putting on her jacket. If you want me to leave the squad, just say so.

For the first time, she faced her head-on. Head held high, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, ready to stand on tiptoe if that would help reach the brunette's height. She faced those brown pearls with all the courage she had left, her own eyes misty with tears she'd never let flow. This was it, so close yet so far, two souls who knew each other becoming strangers once again.

Olivia reached out with a last ounce of regret, brushing away a tear that had escaped down the young detective's cheek with the tip of her thumb. Her heart urged her to do more, to embrace this bruised woman, to bring her all the comfort she needed. She wanted to take Y/N home, wrap her in one of her shirts, tell her how much she loved her. In another life, where they were just two soul mates, where Olivia didn't have to worry about repercussions, whatever they might be. This was where she could find comfort.

— Go home. Take a few days. Get some rest. We'll talk about it when you get back.

The New Yorker had rarely seen a face shattered in a matter of seconds. Her words had urged Y/N to free herself from her hold, her head heavy and spinning from all the hassle and concussion she'd picked up from the blows. Her shoulder nudged her superior's as she walked by, a gesture of no little importance. She did not look back once to meet her former lover's gaze again.

Maybe she should have.

Maybe she would have seen the same love, the same tears, that Olivia saw in her eyes.

Maybe the ice wasn't so thin after all.

•••

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

Six days in a row and you’re ready to keel over. Amid your busy schedule, you hadn’t a chance to fill your quickly dwindling cupboards and fridge. So, after a ten-hour shift on your feet, running all around the tables and between tea rooms, you expend the last of your strength on a quick trip to the shop. 

It isn’t too far out of your way. It’s just a half-block away from your stop. You could wait until tomorrow, your day off, but you’re dying for a strawberry shortcake mochi before you tuck into bed. The rest of your night isn’t too unusual; you’ll be happy to fall asleep to an episode of the same old sitcom that you know by rote. 

You yawn over the bask hooked over your elbow. You have your mochi and a few other staples to get you through; eggs, oat milk, and your favourite brand of granola. You rub your forehead as a stitch threatens to imprint itself permanently. Tomorrow you’ll do a proper shop. 

You stop just before the cashier and peruse the discount shelf. Those chocolate-covered gummy worms are deadly. You shouldn’t. 

You reach for the package, eyeing it up, blinking away another yawn. Those will only have you waking up with a sore tummy. 

“You’d be better off with the dark chocolate, or even the peanuts,” someone says. The timbre is dulcet but firm, and strangely familiar. 

You look over at the figure standing around the side of the shelves. You fear you might be hallucinating as you stare at Raymond. He has a square of protein chocolate in hand but sets it back where he got it, making certain it and every other bar is straight. 

“Oh, hi?” You stammer.  

The tea shop is busy and you’re certain you’ve probably crossed paths with at least one customer outside store hours, but never like this. If anything, you both look the other way and carry on. Instead, he’s intent on you, shifting to face you fully as he sets his shoulders, clutching his hands before him. 

“Though I do suppose you’ve already got the ice cream, it hardly matters what else you add to your lot,” he muses. 

You look in your basket then at him. Is he judging you? Mr. Black Tea, plain. You hang the bag back on the hook. As you do, he steps forward and you shuffle back on your heels. He pulls the bag in line with others, rescinding his hand with a flutter of fingers. 

“If you’re in the mind for something sweet, there’s a place near here, it has a sticky toffee pudding more worth the expense,” he suggests. 

You don’t know what to say. You haven’t seen him since he muttered about your apron strings. In the two weeks after, you assumed he might not come back. As particular as he is, you thought you’d gone egregiously over the line. And yet, you’d forgotten about him for all the other bodies passing through the door. 

“Thanks, I’ll look into that,” you say. 

“Mm,” he hums and his eyes flit up and down behind his lenses, “you sound different.” 

“Do I?” You reach to scratch your neck. 

“You look different too.” 

You tilt your head and give a confused grimace, “well, I...” you glance down, “suppose I'm not wearing my apron.” 

“Must be it,” he agrees, “you sound tired.” 

“I guess... yeah,” you take a breath and let it out slowly.  

It’s strange. He’s not a customer here, there is no need to please and yet you feel you must. You poke the tip of your tongue out then hide it behind your lips. 

“Not in a bad way,” he assures you.  

“Right, thanks,” you say in a fracture, “that’s nice, but uh, I... I’m just on my way home.” 

“I know,” he says. 

“...so then I’ll just be--” you point towards the checkout and falter, “what did you say?” 

“Yes, down Trafalgar. I know. It’s late,” he peers over towards the transparent walls along the front of the shop, “these parts aren’t too safe this time of day.” 

“Trafal--“ you begin but can’t finish, “Raymond.” 

He blinks, his expression scarily placid. 

“Details,” he says evenly, “it is best to keep note of them. It is dangerous not to mind them.” He raises a finger, “one might not notice the shadow that walks behind theirs or the window they left open in the kitchen.” 

Your lip trembles as your heart sinks, “have you... have you been following me?” 

“Following... that sounds sinister,” he gives a crooked expression, “no, no, I would consider it... I keep you safe.” 

“Safe. From what, exactly?” 

He narrows his eyes and his lips straighten thoughtfully.  

“Well, from men like me.” 

His words turn your blood to ice. Men like him. What does he mean? 

“I...” you take a step back and he moves with you. You put your hand up to stop him as you still, “Raymond, do not come any closer.” 

“You don’t understand, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, “that’s what makes me different. Not like those other men.” 

“I mean it,” you warn him. “If you come any closer, I will make a scene.” 

Your adrenaline courses through you. You’re awake now. The yawns have dissipated and your eyes are wide. 

“Ah, and that’s where I am like the other men,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t matter if I come closer to you right now. Hardly matters. Because I can wait. I have waited. And when I...” he steps towards you and you put the basket between you, his stomach pressing against it, “come closer, you will not even see me coming.” 

You stare at him, horrified. His blue eyes gleam and he reaches to straighten his glasses. He smirks and his brows draw up coyly. He leans in and you lean away. Then suddenly, he backs off and tugs his cuffs straight, then fixes his tie. 

“Don’t forget to close your window,” he says as he spins on his heel, “wouldn’t want some nocturnal creature creeping in.” 

You gape after him as he saunters off. You can’t quiet move as disbelief has you stuck to the spot. It’s all so sudden. So unexpected. How could you ever predict something like this? The uptight man from the tea shop, a stranger really, a face who disappeared for a whole fortnight, and he’s just shaken your entire world into disarray. 

Men like him? You don’t even know who he is. Only his name and how he likes his tea. 

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)

Hope you enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.

Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.

"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"

--------------------------------------------------------------

When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).

"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."

"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

"Far away, I hope."

Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.

--------------------------------------------------------------

To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.

"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.

"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.

"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."

"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.

"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."

Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Alastor."

"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"

"You're always lying. That's your thing."

"...Touché."

Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.

"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"

"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."

She perks up.

"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."

Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.

"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"

"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."

Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."

Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.

"What's so funny about that?"

"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."

Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."

"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.

"So you better watch your step, Mister."

"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."

Charlie brightens. "Really?"

"No."

The princess deflates.

He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.

The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.

She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.

...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.

In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.

Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...

Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.

--------------------------------------------------------------

If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.

But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.

To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.

But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.

"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.

"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.

"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.

"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.

"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"

No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.

Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.

The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).

"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"

"Are you seriously ticklish?"

"No!"

In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.

"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.

"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.

Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.

That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.

"Awww!" Charlie coos.

"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.

There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.

That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.

"What was that about not being ticklish?"

His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"

Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.

"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."

"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"

Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...

For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.

But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.

"Do your worst, my dear."

--------------------------------------------------------------

To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!

Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

💜 - Cozy

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Basic Ao3 User and Etiquette Guide for Beginners, Readers and Authors Alike!

When editing and posting:

First and foremost:

Read the Terms of Service to make sure you aren't breaking any rules!

Make sure to tag everything you think is necessary.

Fluff, Romance, Humor, Dark, Found Family, etc. Also make sure to include warnings about potentially triggering things like rape, non-con, abuse in any form, violence, gore, graphic depictions of such, and so on. The 'Other Additional Tags to Be Added' tag is your friend.

Use your best judgement for rating and archive warnings.

Do not tag for reach or leave something out or use things like r@pe and deth. People have the right and need to filter out their triggers!

Be aware of the difference between / and &.

For relationships, there are two different types. Be sure not to mislabel the relationship between characters and accidentally change the entire tone of your fic!

Platonic/Friendship/Family/Non-sexual: Tony Stark & Stephen Strange.

Sexual Relationship/Dating/Married/Non-con/Rape: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange.

I prefer not to read incest fics (I do sometimes, I will admit it), so I will usually skip or filter out the / between two characters if I don't want to read it. If this was a mistake, your fic will be filtered out, too!

Summary

Not required but appreciated!

Double space in the editing box

Click to the beginning of the next paragraph and click enter twice. Otherwise, your story will be all squished together and harder to read. Some people will think it's 'unprofessional' and click away. This also gives your fic a sleek appearance.

Who can comment?

As of a few months ago, Ao3 automatically set every new work to 'Only Registered Users Can Comment'. If you would appreciate guest comments, then remember to click 'Registered Users and Guests Can Comment'. If you would rather not have any at all, click 'No One Can Comment'.

Preview

It allows you to preview what the work will look like before you post it. If you hit return to work, then you'll see a bunch of code for paragraph breaks, italics, and so forth at the end of each chunk. I recommend clicking the back arrow to avoid this because it can be hard to correct things once those things are there.

Also, every time you preview, a draft is created. These are saved automatically for a month after they are created, so if you don't have time to finish editing, you can go back and finish later.

DO NOT post a fic just because you like the tag arrangement and will come back to it later. This is against the Terms of Service.

Ways to get the look you want

If you have something in italic, bold, centered, or crossed out, it doesn't automatically go that way once you click and drag. There are ways to get it done, and they're easy! Just type the following (the colored words are the words that go between these). Remember to add the / at the end or it will affect the whole fic! These aren't everything, just the ones I know.

<i>Italic words here</i>

<strong>Bold words here</strong>

<center alignment>Centered words here</center alignment>

<strike through>Crossed out words here</strike through>

Type correctly

Please remember to use your quotation marks and periods! Nothing makes me click off a fic faster if these things aren't present; it's hard for me, at least, to read.

The Archive is an archive

Don't post 'fics' looking for fics, advertising for writing buddies or fellow artists, don't post headcanons for discussion. This is against the Terms of Service and you could get reported.

I haven't reported anyone yet, but I do leave them comments to let them know it's against the ToS. If you don't take it down in a timely manner or say fuck you, I WILL report you because you can't ruin it for everyone.

Etiquette For Posting and Reading

What to do

Liked a fic?

Leave a comment! LEAVE A COMMENT! Authors love this! It doesn't matter how old it is- This isn't social media! It's not 'cringe' to comment on old works. You might just get a heartfelt reply and even encourage someone to write again!

The best are the in-depth, going into details about what you loved and what surprised you and everything else. It can be a simple 'I loved it! Thanks for sharing!', but you will be someone's personal hero with a big comment.

You did like that fic, right?

Leave a kudos! Comments and kudos are an author's lifeblood and fuel. Nothing is more discouraging than getting a lot of hits on your fic and no comments or kudos.

For posting, just follow the guide above and you should be fine!

What NOT to do

Oh, you didn't like that fic?

If you can't say something nice, don't say it at all. There's a person behind that story who put their blood, sweat, and tears into it. They having feelings, too.

But I think the fic is gross/wrong/badly written and-

Shut up. Click off. Hands off the keyboard.

But it's-

No.

Don't renew your completed fic just to get on the front page again

Not against the rules, but the archive is an archive. Someone will find your story if they really want to read it, so long as you tagged it correctly! Just be patient.

Don't like, don't read is your best friend

Think a story might contain something you don't like? No need to click on it! Take a turn you didn't like? Back arrow, baby!

It's not a popularity contest

Again, not against the rules, but sorting fics by the amount of hits, kudos, or comments gives you very few results compared to all the fics that exist. Fics only get those rates because people read them. One user or guest can only boost the hit-count of a fic ONCE in twenty-four hours. A kudos can only be left once.

You might be missing some real gems by filtering that way! There is literal buried treasure on Ao3, you just need to expand your horizons and ignore those counts on the bottom.

But this fic is so OLD

So? We read books and watch movies that were made a long time ago, right? Fics are the same thing! Read that old fic! Comment on it! Kudos away!

Hope you find this helpful! Enjoy your posting and reading!

[fandom-friday]

The goal of Fandom Friday: provide a place where people can shout-out their favorite creators from the week, whether it’s a piece of fan art that made you smile or a fanfic that moved you. Drop a link to your favorite creations this week into my ask box along with what you loved about it, and I will give them a shout! It doesn’t have to be Star Wars either! If it’s on another website (AO3, Twitter, etc.), please be sure to state that as well.

This happens each week, so don’t feel like you’ve got to get out everything in one week. Just keep track of them throughout the week or send me an ask whenever you find something, and I’ll drop them all on Fridays (or throughout the weekend if I get a lot). The cutoff for each week is THURSDAY 12 PM (I’m in the Pacific timezone). Anything received after that will roll to the next week. A summary of the weeks’ recs will be posted at the end of the weekly queue, so check back here for all of the awesome fics and art! And be sure to go give the creations on that list some love (and don’t just share the ask responses I put out).

2024 Fandom Friday Weekly Summary Master List

Rules and additional details under the cut! PLEASE make sure you read the rules before sending something in. If your submission violates any of the rules, I will delete it.

Rules:

Please send submissions to my ask box (sending them all to one place makes wrangling them easier each week). In your ask, please include the creator’s handle, a link to their work/post (if links aren’t working for the ask, please DM me them), and what you loved about it!

Please ensure the link is to the creator’s original post and not your own reblog or repost of their work (if they’re on another platform). The idea is to drive people to visit the creator’s page!

The creation does not have to have been posted this week! It can be something older. Also, don’t worry about whether or not a rec is a repeat from a prior week. Just looking to celebrate things that made an impression on you this week, whether you’ve seen it before or not!

NSFW is alright! Just make sure you note it in the ask so I can flag appropriately! Since I’m including 18+ material, minors may not participate. 18+ posts will be tagged with NSFT/lemon/lemony lemon (trying to cover all my bases).

NO incest, underage, cl*necest blogs, master/padawan (or similar power dynamics), dub-con/non-con/rape occurring IN the fic (to include stalker/obsessive behavior fics). Also, no H*rry Potter. There are a few others that I also won’t share due to my discomfort with them (i.e., R*xsoka), so if you’re not sure, ask. Also, many of you submit multiple works at once, and that’s fine, but if one of those works contains something that violates the rules, I will delete the entire ask, so something to be extra careful about when submitting!

Submissions that deal with 18+ material or difficult/triggering topics (pregnancy, abuse, drug use, etc.) MUST BE TAGGED APPROPRIATELY.

If your rec involves spoilers from a show that’s currently running, please include that info in the ask so I can tag it appropriately (I will normally tag a few different ways, but I always use #<show title> spoilers if you need to filter (for example: Andor spoilers will be tagged #Andor Spoilers). I will stop tagging spoilers two weeks after the show stops airing.

You can submit GIF sets or edits, but please ensure you are submitting from the blog that actually created them. Wanted to add that caution since there’s been a lot of people stealing/reposting GIFs and edits in particular recently. So just be cautious.

Try to avoid commentary in your ask that might make others feel bad (“the only person who knows how to write XXX correctly…”). It’s important to be able to appreciate creators without making others feel bad, so let’s try to keep the commentary complimentary without being off-putting for other creators.

Self recommendations are allowed and encouraged! Shout out your own hard work! You deserve the recognition!

*Rules subject to change so PLEASE make sure you read them before sending something in. If your submission violates any of the rules, I will delete it.

**If you have any questions about any of the rules, don’t hesitate to DM me!In addition to sending me asks, I highly encourage you to go either leave a comment on and/or reblog someone’s work (tag me or use the #Fandom Friday tag if you do!). Let’s get the interaction back up on this website and show the creators that work so hard on their stuff some love!

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of trafficking, Cunthrage (just her voice, but it's triggering for her, obvi)

Word Count: 346

Previously On...: Seems like The Wiggle Room's got some secret partners... and they might be someone you and the team area already familiar with.

A/N: You know what? Fuck it. Third part coming today; gonna leave you on a cliff hanger for your Friday!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“Sam!” you shouted as you burst into the safehouse. “I just hit the mother fucking jackpot of intel!” He was sitting on the couch, phone in hand as though he were talking to someone on speaker. A perfectly normal situation. So, why did he look like a deer caught in the headlights?

“Pocket?” Bucky’s voice came out tinny through the device. “Baby, is that you?”

Your entire body froze, all color draining from your face as though you’d just heard a ghost. The mission had taken up all of your headspace, leaving no room for Bucky Barnes to enter your thoughts these last few weeks, but now, all the memories, all the heartache, all the rage came rushing back.

“Lemme talk to her, Sam,” Bucky said.

“Uh,” Sam took in the sight of your clenched fist and the hard set of your jaw. “Don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Tin Man.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what’s a good idea, asshat. Let me talk to my girl.”

“Thinkin’ you and her might have differing opinions on that subject,” Sam said.

You needed to get out. Your logical brain told you that Bucky was Sam’s friend. It made full sense that he would talk to him. But your painfully broken, emotional heart felt that Bucky was just calling to continue tormenting you from a distance. Why was it getting so hard to breathe?

“Oh, hey, Bucky. Fancy running into you here.” Her voice was like a dagger to your heart. Even here, you couldn’t escape Jade Carthage. You could barely make out the sound of Bucky’s voice through the roaring of blood in your ears. You looked to Sam.

“They’re auctioning the girls to the highest bidder,” you told him in a monotone, not daring to risk any emotion for fear you’d come apart at the seams. “And I’m pretty sure Kozlov’s silent partners are Hydra.” Without another word, you grabbed your purse from where you’d deposited on the side table and walked out the door, ignoring the sound of Sam’s voice calling out behind you.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[saintedbyher]

Very kinky Angela x reader sex. I apologize in advance. So so so many trigger warnings, please read with caution. Read tags!

Thankfully, you were both into similar things. Kink-wise.

You and Angela have been together for six months and revealing your most shameful kinks to one another came pretty early on in the relationship. Everything from strap ons to sometimes calling her ‘mommy’.

Tonight, however, you were doing something new. Angela’s tied you up before but never with handcuffs. Real, metal handcuffs. They’re obviously different from the silk ties she’s used on you in the past, but they’re good. The metal scrapes against your wrists when you try to tug on them.

/“I want it to hurt,” you told her.

“Y/n, I don’t want to actually… hurt you,” she said like she was afraid to say it too loudly.

“That’s why we have a safe word,” you reassured her.

“I know, I know,” she said, twisting her mouth. She thought for a moment. “Ok, ok,” Angela sighed with a smile. “So I… pretend I don’t know you, right?”

“Pretend like it’s a one night stand. We’re strangers.”

“How bad do you want, you know, me to,” she struggled to even vaguely say what you were asking of her. You told her you wanted her to hit you, on your arms, legs, stomach, face. Spit on you and degrade you. It was sweet she couldn’t even say it. You knew it was a possibility she might be too sweet for this.

“As much as you want to,” you smiled. “I would love to see some scratch marks tomorrow morning, maybe a little bruising, but this is for you, too. I want it to be enjoyable for you, too.”

“Ok… I can do that.”/

Angela double checks the handcuffs to make sure they’re locked tight. There’s barely room for a finger in between the cuffs and your wrists. You tug on them again and they are definitely not going anyway from around the motel bed headboard. The metal around your wrists is tighter than you expected but you don’t say anything.

The bedroom lights are off aside from a table lamp in the corner of the room offering a soft yellow glow. The motel sign’s red light adds another light source creating the most perfect, sleazy ambiance you were looking for.

Angela is dressed in a black bra and matching underwear. Simple yet incredibly sexy. You’re in a gray tank top and pink boy shorts.

The cuffs dig into the bone at the end of your thumb when you try and pull. It doesn’t hurt but it would if you tugged harder.

The room is silent except for your breathing and Angela’s foot steps as she walks around the room.

Finally, she stops at the side of the bed. You can’t help but stare at her chest, how perfect her boobs look in the black push-up bra. The softness of her stomach, the curve of her hips down to the silk black underwear. What’s underneath is all that’s on your mind. You reach towards her, hoping to pull her underwear down, only to be stopped by the harsh metal against the jutting joints in your hand.

Angela laughs lowly. “Eager, hmm?” She runs two fingers along your leg, from the ankle to your thigh. Shivers make their way up your spine.

She looks down at you, staring for a moment, before slapping your thigh harshly. You grunt at the sharp pain.

“Oh come on, that wasn’t that bad,” she says ruthlessly. “You’re going to need more tolerance than that.”

She climbs onto the bed beside you, leaning in to kiss you roughly. She’s all tongue and teeth and you can’t get enough of it. You moan loudly into her mouth as she bites your bottom lip.

Suddenly, she slaps you. In the face. “Fuck!” you gasp. The force of it turns your head, cheek burying itself into the pillow as the opposite cheek burns.

A hand slips into your underwear, fingers exploring the skin beneath. Your hips involuntarily buck into her hand. You would be embarrassed if this was a true one night stand but it’s Angela. You know her too well to let shame be an issue. You know her too well to be afraid of what she may think. You know what she thinks. She’s yours and you’re hers.

The sting of the slap subsides a little but not enough to stop a tear from rolling down the side of your face.

“God, Ange,” you groan as she kisses down your neck. She sucks, teeth grazing your skin ever so lightly.

Her middle finger circles your clit in fast, tight circles. The pressure of her body on yours is everything you want and more. The skin of her legs on top of yours, her stomach on yours, her chest on yours. The way her chest looks squished against yours when she lifts her head up to look at you, shaking her hair out of her face, is unbelievable.

She forces her weight into you as she slows down her pace on your clit, letting you catch what breath you can, before picking up the brutal pace once more.

The handcuffs clank against the headboard’s poles as your hands try to come down and give you whatever relief from Angela’s rough movement. It feels too good. You want to curl into a ball to make it stop but at the same time you never want her to stop. Your body tingles from your toes to your ears. All you hear is her breathing in your ear and the squeaking of the bed. You know you’re groaning with every few circles but her pants and the springs of the bed are white noise. They’re the only noise you ever want to hear.

“Fuck- I’m- in-“ you try to say ‘inside’ but before you can your orgasm hits you hard. Your stomach tightens and the chain of the cuffs jingles against the bed frame as your arms shake. Angela’s knees hold your legs open. Your eyes shut tight feeling the explosion behind them. Her finger softens against you but doesn’t let up. She rides out your aftershocks, kissing your jaw gently.

“So good, baby,” she whispers.

“I-I don’t-“ you breathe out.

“Shh, I know,” she says. You realize the riding out of your aftershocks is not that at all. The pace on your clit has picked up again and it hurts. You’re too sensitive and she just keeps going.

“I-“ you’re interrupted by your own moan in pain. “Wait-“ you tug on the cuffs.

“Can’t take it, pretty girl?” she says, her movements not letting up. “Hmm?”

You try to bend one of your knees but she sits up as best she can to push your knee back down with her other hand.

“Agh,” your heads hits the pillow in defeat. “Ange, wait, I-I’m serious.”

She wouldn’t stop. Why wasn’t she stopping? You started to get pissed off. Your clit hurt, your wrists and shoulders hurt. Her weight on you now felt claustrophobic. You could barely move beneath her.

The bone of your thumb strains against the cuffs as you continue to pull on them in vain.

Suddenly you remembered you created a safe word. “Catfish cabin,” you wiggled against her. “Catfish cabin, Ange,” your voice strains.

“Mm-mm,” she hums against your neck. Her fingers still going fast against your clit.

“Angela!” you yell, surprisingly yourself with the volume and desperation you say her name with.

“Shut up!” she yells right back. She pushes her fingers sharply to your clit causing you to yell “ow!”

“Shut up,” she yells again, this time adding another slap to the same side of your face as before. The sound was deafening and so is the pain that follows. It feels like someone snapped a hundred rubber bands against your face.

“Angela, please,” your voice is softer and more of a desperate whine if anything. Your stomach flexes so much it’s painful. She’s never done anything like this. Angela is by far the sweetest person you’ve ever known. She didn’t even want to do this stupid game with you for she was too afraid of hurting you. Was that all a ruse?

You barely know the woman above you who won’t take no for an answer. Who is /hurting/ you.

The familiar feeling of the beginning of an orgasm wracks through your body. You whimper out of fear and pleasure. Pleasure you don’t want but feels so good.

More tears fall from your eyes. From pain, panic, and frustration. And shame as well. Shame that part of you is still enjoying this. Shame that your body is reacting exactly how she wants. Your hips move in turn with her finger’s circles.

You try one more time, using all the strength you have left, to wriggle out of her grasp. The cuffs clang loudly as you thrash your arms. You try to bend your knees again, try to get your feet against her to push her off but it’s to no avail. She’s so much stronger than you. Stronger than you ever realized.

The hand in your underwear leaves and you feel empty yet so relieved. The involuntary flexing in your stomach subsides and you can finally catch your breath. Though the euphoria that comes from it finally being over is quick to end when she hits you. This time, it’s a closed fist. You’ve never been punched and fuck does it hurt. She hit the side of your nose. She does it again, this time on your cheek bone.

You let out a sob, squeezing your eyes tight. You can’t look at her.

“Don’t fucking tell me to stop,” she says from above. Her right hand goes back into your underwear and three fingers push into you violently. It felt embarrassingly good for her to finally be inside you. The aching pain in your face mixed with her hitting your g-spot over and over again when that’s all you wanted all night sends you over the edge. Another sob escapes your lips. She kisses you and when she pulls back, there’s blood in her upper lip. Your blood. She hit you so hard your nose bled. You begin to full on cry when your orgasm calms down.

“Katchem,” you cry. “Katchem.”

Angela’s eyes go wide and soft. “Ok, ok,” she whispers and hurries off of you. She’s back in a second with the key to the cuffs and unlocks you. “Ok, take it easy,” she says back in her usual, caring voice while helping you lower your arms from their raised position. “Are you ok?” she asks, touching you as softly as she can. She lightly squeezes your arms down to your calves. One hand reaches back up to hold one of yours while the other strokes your hair. “Are you ok, Y/n? Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to go overboard. Fuck fuck fuck, I am so fucking sorry,” her voice cracks, eyes watering.

You start laughing. You must look crazy. Tears and blood streaking your face. She looks a little crazy too, though. She’s got blood on her too. Her big brown eyes covered in a layer of tears.

“Oh my god, Angela,” you sigh. You take a second to catch your breath. “You are amazing, /that/ was amazing.”

“What? Really?” she asks, blinking that causes a tear to run down her cheek.

“Yes!” you practically yell, sitting up. “Ow,” your arms still hurt a bit. “Angela you are fucking incredible,” you kiss her.

You hug her tightly as she sits on the bed, definitely still confused.

“But, but you started crying and-“

“I told you I probably would,” you reassure her.

“And you used the safe word so I got scared-“

“That doesn’t mean anything was bad, I just knew a third orgasm would destroy me,” you laugh and she hugs you tighter.

She lets go to look at your face. “You fucking scared me!” she says, pushing your shoulders a little.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, baby,” you kiss her cheek.

“Oh my god, Y/n,” she exhales, putting her forehead on your shoulder. You rub her back. The skin of her back is hot and sweaty.

“I love you,” you say to her.

“I love you too,” she says back.

She leans forward, pushing you into the bed. Her face nuzzles into your neck and one leg wraps around your waist.

“Come on, we should go shower,” you say.

“Can we, lay here for a minute?” she asks so softly you might cry again.

“Of course,” you scratch her scalp lightly and kiss her forehead. The two of you end up falling asleep until the morning.

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

IM BACK TO ASK IF YOU HAVE ANY BUNNY FIC RECOMMENDATIONS 😭😭

Hiiiii!!!! Omg dbcvhkjabchjbc I'm honored you want recs from me but honestly I'm on the lookout myself😭😭😭😭 I'm either terribly picky or really bad at finding fics so I can give you my faves, but they're probably gonna be ones you've already read-- I'm seriously slacking on the Bunny fanfic consumption maybe

Lock and Key by sp_peppers

This one is more Butters than Bunny but one of my absolute favorites. Wish I knew the author's tumblr because god damn. HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING because this one is super dark, it's an elaborate fic about Butters' canon abuse with the timeline a little rearranged, but it has a happy ending and Bunny is sprinkled all throughout and nicely wraps up the end. But please for the love of god proceed with caution; It's heavy on the abuse

Just Underneath by TrashKat

You might know this one already but it's your classic Mystechaos fic. Love it. Wish the ending was a little less short because it was SO GOOD so if you haven't read it, you're welcome

Midnight Snack by Blame Canada (OneHitWondersAnonymous)

This one's a really cute oneshot <3 Kenny comes over to bring Butters a midnight snack, very fluffy, what more would you need? :3

until the sun comes up by starglitches

another sweet oneshot where Kenny climbs in through Butters' window. I will never EVER get tired of those.

The Night Bound to Come justtothesea, orphan_account, thewordsleep (justtothesea)

a cute but angsty little oneshot where they both find solace in each other's company while having a bad time. I reread it sometimes :>

May Nothing But Happiness Come Through Your Door by boy-thighs (sop)

Probably my absolute favorite, I fucking WISH I could write like this. You probably already know it (it's very popular) but holy fuck, I reread this often. I wanna kiss the author on their forehead and thank them for their service.

So these are ones I have saved to my bookmarks, but I'll keep being on the lookout. Check if I find some that are maybe unfinished but still bangers. And feel free to always go ahead and recommend stuff to me too!!

I'm mostly focusing on writing rather than reading right now, so let's hope I can soon add more to the bunny tag. They're my favorite little guys and, again, I'm very honored you're asking me for recs <3333

[freddie-77-ao3]

sup yall we're vibing here

anyway. hey, my name's freddie, and i'm finally trying to write an actual intro/master post which... we'll see how this goes.

important stuff is highlighted in orange.

so, basic stuff:

as I said, my name's freddie. he/him pronouns. i'm a college student (majoring in accounting, might add a psych minor). not gonna say which college but i'm currently in california.

i've been on tumblr since 2019 i think? not under this account, this started as a fandom account and then spiralled out of control... really fast. um, my regular tumblr which i've not actually opened in ages is @chronicchthonic14 so. yeah.

not particularly relevant to this blog, but i might mention it at some point so, i have autism and adhd. and some other things but. like. that list is very long and those are the two most relevant because i promise if i come off wrong/mean, i didn't mean to, i just forget to make my words normal. but. those are the two most referenced. if for whatever reason someone wants to know more or has questions you can send an ask ig?

i'm scottish, born there. moved to US when I was four. finishing uni and moving back.

some quick warnings

this blog definitely contains cursing/vulgar language, whatever you want to call it, so if you're not comfortable with that, probably not the blog for you, as i don't tag cursing or anything for you to filter out.

if, for whatever reason, if i ever reblog something that contains a slur (against racial minorities, queer people, anything) i will ABSOLUTELY tag that though.

also if anyone has any trigger warnings they think any content needs, please let me know-- asks, dms, comments, reblogs

the cursing thing also applies for sort of dirty jokes? think that only applies to like. two posts and very not explicit. those aren't currently tagged but if they get any more explicit they certainly will be.

queer identity because the explicit reminded me, i'm asexual, and probably straight. maybe bi? dunno, don't particularly care. and i'm trans. ftm. this isn't the blog i talk about that on usually though, unless it relates to a specific ask or a fandom thing.

which, getting into what this blog is for because i can't think of anything else i need to add here (guys let me know if i forgot important stuff, please, i'm an idiot!!! i will forget the important stuff and write random shit instead!! i've already deleted three tangents from this!!)

sooooo

fandoms!! ones i write and/or post about or will potentially post about

percy jackson extending to hoo, toa, tkc (definitely post way less about this), mcga (again, way less). haven't read TSATS or COTG yet, but spoilers are fine. i post way more about minor characters. write fanfiction for and have some posted (both on here and ao3) and a bunch of snippets.

dcu-- films, comics, animated shows, all of it. personally, my favorites are young justice (the comics, not show version), new teen titans, and batman inc (batgirls, nightwing, and red robin esp). late 90s yj run is my favorite, and i loved the DCeased event. favorite batman comic is definitely court of owls run. no fanfics posted, but some on docs.

mcu-- way less so, but have a stucky oneshot. slowly making my way through in timeline order.

throne of glass. i'm an aedion and chaol apologizer because they do a bunch of dumb shit but then WHO DOESN'T in this series. fanfics in doc, not posted.

this would go on for ages if i listed everything so instead, here's an ask i answered on my fandoms/genres and everything. feel free to send me asks about anyone. if you send me something about radium girls i may cry though (tears of joy) so there's your advanced warning.

main things you'll see on my blog are incorrect quotes, snippets, and the occasional fic

this^^

my... idk, contact policy? seriously what do i word this

asks are always open, anon is on.

if you send hate... whatever. i'll probably delete it.

unless i find it funny. then I'll post it. there's really little you could say to me that would hurt.

when i say asks are always open, you can drop anything you want.

literally anything

you need to vent? want advice? want to request headcanons? request a fic? give me a prompt? ask random things about me? something else I've forgotten? go right ahead

if you want to ask me to update my fics? go right ahead. sometimes i forget i didn't post something.

send as many asks as you want, i don't care if it might be spam

i can't promise i'll respond to asks in a timely manner, sometimes i open my inbox and forget they exist for months, i'm sorry. if it's something you really want answered you can send another one

dm's are alright? if you want to be friends or something, go right ahead.

anyone can reblog any of my posts/comment/heart, i don't care. you want to heart 50 things in a row? i adore you. if i had kids, you would get my firstborn

if we're mutuals you can ask for my insta/give me yours.

now, other accounts:

anyway, i think that's it?

[nurgletwh]

Hey all! You’re about to see why this got so delayed when Tumblr ate my post. >.<

Remember how I’ve previously stated “I disappeared because I had issues, but no worries!”?

Yeah.

Not so much this time. Which has only sunk in with retrospect and time. (@grumpyoldsnake is gonna be “I told you so!!!)

It still doesn’t really feel that way, because the human mind is stupendous at deemphasizing how much danger you might really be in/were in.

Some of this might be covering ground I’ve already covered here or elsewhere. However, I think having it all in one place and all sequenced together will not only help me keep things straight but give it all perspective.

With that out of the way, let’s see if I can not only keep this all the fuck straight but remember what ground I need to cover. I’m putting the rest under a cut for a couple of reasons. It’s long, and it may be triggering for some people. Please let me know if I’ve missed a tag I should have added.

October 2023

I went back to the Dr. to get my medications adjusted, as my blood sugar had gone back up. (Side note: I hadn’t been properly and regularly testing my blood sugar. I was exhausted and sleeping what felt like all the time with no energy to do much of anything at all.) For whatever reason, my blood pressure comes back rather shockingly high (164/108!!), not in line with what it’s been at all. I comment that I’ve never seen it that high, and the nurse says to have the doctor check it after I’ve been there a while.

It doesn’t happen because I’m forgetful.

My cholesterol also comes back high, but that’s been creeping up for years, so no shocker there.

Diabetes medications are adjusted, one is added for the cholesterol. By the time I get home, there’s another one for my blood pressure. I shrug and add it to my pile, since my blood pressure had never come down as far as I thought it should in the first place.

November 2023

Back for a follow-up appointment. My sugar levels haven’t changed all that much, and my blood pressure still comes back as pretty damn high, and I make a mental note to test it at home more regularly, because it doesn’t seem right.

Warning: diet talk.

———

We talk about stuff and whatnot, and decide to try Ozempic (as its original purpose was for diabetes) as the next step to get my blood sugar down.

I was aggravated as he goes on about things like how I’ll feel better for losing some weight, and I half-assed express a few concerns because I have disorganized eating habits. I already don’t eat consistently, and I firmly believe my current weight “problems” are due to my disorganized eating patterns (as well as picky eating and just not really wanting to eat in general) in my youth leaving me borderline malnourished. Most of my teen years were spent trying to get me to gain weight. FYI: being significantly underweight for a long time is a great way to have issues with being overweight later.

I go home with a prescription for Ozempic. Fine and dandy, although I’ve been getting the impression he doesn’t really listen all the time.

———

December 2023

Christmas happens, travel happens, fun happens.

January 2024

Cute cat pic, just because. :-)

Next appointment. My blood pressure still reads significantly higher than normal (156/92), and higher than it has been at home, but what with travel and all, I haven’t really been testing it to back up that assertion. The doctor tests it and gets approximately the same result.

I get another prescription for an additional blood pressure medication.

(Can you guess where this one is going?)

I woke up a few days later with a massive headache that wouldn’t go away. I didn’t connect this at the time, but based on what happened next, I think it was.

The day after that I felt a bit dizzy. When I wasn’t feeling much better by lunch, I took my blood pressure and got 94/68. I took it again and got about the same thing, so I had my coworker (who is also a volunteer EMT) test it. He got 100/54. I continued to check it throughout the day, but it wouldn’t stay consistent. I bugged out of work early, finally sending a… well, grouchy message to the doctor (after hours, unfortunately) firmly expressing my frustration that I wasn’t believed when I stated my at-home readings, pointing out I am also an EMT.

My reading was 96/74 when I went to bed.

I felt even shittier the next day. BP was 94/62 that morning; I stayed home from work. The doctor responded to my message when the office opened, discontinuing the most recently added BP med, sanctioning the choice I’d already made. :-P

Unfortunately, my BP continued to plummet throughout the afternoon and evening. I sent a message that evening and asked what to do, continuing my pattern of sending messages after the office closed. 🙄

I took my blood pressure using my automated cuff before going to bed. It errored out twice before I got this:

Lovely, eh?

(The systolic generally reads 8-10 low, but the diastolic is generally bang on.)

I took it manually; 80/54. I send a follow-up message with those readings.

I felt awful the next morning. The act of sitting up made me dizzy. I stumbled out to the living room and called in to work again; I was in no condition to drive. My heart rate was elevated to around 100-110 (it normally runs fast, about 80-90 in the morning).

By late morning, the automatic cuff wouldn’t do anything but error out. I sent another message asking at what point I should go to the ER. I didn’t get a response from the doctor, but did from one of the nurses, who told me that anything under 90 systolic with symptoms qualified.

What. The. FUCK.

I basically decided that if it got worse, I’d go in. I told a friend to check in with me regularly and stayed in my recliner, drinking water and Gatorade to at least get fluid in.

The lowest reading I got on my manual cuff was 78/52. FYI: I should have been in the hospital the day before. This is “almost died” moment number 1. I was a fucking idiot. Denial is deadly.

——

I think this needs split up; I’m gonna post this now and keep writing, because I’m going to hit some sort of character limit sooner or later. O.o

[yanderes-galore]

Hello!! I'd like to request for homestuck please! Do you have any headcanons for the type of yandere Dirk Strider would be? And how he may treat or act around his darling?

(If you need a time frame at all in the comic timeline, I can suggest post-game (before the epilogues so no worry to know those or hs^2) - it might work out easier to write for!! Otherwise if you don't, disregard this paragraph hehe)

Sure! Sorry it took so long (It's been MONTHS 😥😭), I needed to shove the entirety of Homestuck in my brain and have coherent thoughts about it. I'm actually not entirely done with Act 6 yet (I wanna say halfway through-ish?) so if he's very OOC my bad.... I can make an updated version at a later date maybe? Take this as an AU of Act 6 just in case, I just wanted to explore his yandere type.

Here's what I got! Now that I think about it I want to write more for Homestuck... it's really good and I'm happy I finally experienced it. Thanks Tumblr 💜 I tried to keep this general as the first concept for a character I write typically is :)

Writers who gave me motivation and inspiration to start this work; @yandere--stuck and @bunnyjam-imagines . Your work is incredible and keep doing what you're doing ^^ 💜Your Dirk fics really helped me with this so I dedicate this to you, too. IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BE TAGGED LET ME KNOW, THANKS.

Possible Spoilers For Homestuck Act 6

Yandere! Dirk Strider Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Hidden cameras, Secret recording, Dirk struggles expressing feelings, Invasion of privacy, Brief violence mention, Swearing, Kidnapping, Dubious relationship, Isolation, Controlling behavior, Implied jealousy, Angst, I like this version of yandere Dirk where he just feels conflicted.

Dirk is a very interesting character and I've noticed there has been a pattern in the way people write him as a yandere.

Dirk seems like a yandere whose lucid in his behavior.

He has tendencies to know what he's doing is wrong, or at least this is a pattern I've seen in the way others write him.

I can agree with this as Dirk seems like he takes on the role as guardian for the other people in his group at times (Jake, Jane, Roxy).

Dirk would be very caring towards his darling despite the emotional baggage he has behind the scenes.

He most likely met you through a chat client like the rest.

Since he was young he's always had an interest in puppets, robots, and horses...

He could've met you through one of these interests or by one of his other friends introducing you.

Either way, Dirk finds himself talking to you more and more when he adds your handle.

Dirk's yandere behavior isn't overly romantic even when his feelings are that way.

He doesn't really like expressing it all that much.

Dirk's behavior comes off as just him looking out for you.

He's like a guardian who's willing to do anything for those he cares about.

Based on the fact Dirk has made robots for Jake and Jane in the past, usually for special occasions or requests, he probably would make one for you eventually.

Dirk is very skilled with robotics and wouldn't mind creating some sort of bot for you no matter the size or purpose.

Dirk does try to keep one goal constant when making you a robot gift...

It has to protect you.

He's responsible and wants nothing more than those he cares about out of harm's way.

If they reciprocate his feelings or not doesn't matter....

When he does make that robot gift he puts a lot of his time into it.

AR has to spend a lot of time responding to his friends as all of his time is spent multi-tasking on a ton of tasks.

Building your gift... talking to you... watching his dreamself...

He's kind of worn thin.

Once it's finished he sends it to you with a brief message.

It's his way of showing his care even if he seems very closed off with feelings.

This robot is the first camera he manages to sneak in your home.

Dirk even has secret folders on his PC of just footage.

Part of him feels guilty for recording you... but he tries to reassure himself this is what a robotic guardian needs.

The robot is the biggest part leading into his obsession.

It can act on its own to protect you or like a drone he can control and see through.

He feels guilty that he's using it to interact with you like he's actually there....

Dirk's feelings could swap over the more he sneaks electronics into your house and the more he cyberstalks you.

There's a certain threshold he passes when he eventually has to admit he's got feelings for you if he has them.

Clearly he doesn't just want to protect you like a friend, right?

Why else would he watch you sleep with that robot you thought of as a cute gift from him?

He can't help but search through files upon files containing pictures and video feed of you being... you.

He feels he could never admit it fully but he does like you.

One way or another....

Dirk's obsession is very... what's the word... quiet?

He seems like the yandere who would just hover in your shadow... just to keep you out of harm.

He isn't a very violent yandere and is more just like a guardian to you due to his fear of revealing his feelings, which makes him work well as a platonic or romantic yandere.

Dirk probably could use violence to protect you but doesn't always tend to.

His robot guardian he made for you is indeed armed, though.

The robot he gave you isn't as merciful and may even get bloody if it has to for you.

He doesn't mind if you feel the same for him or not... he would like you to but you don't have to....

He seems like the yandere who'd sigh and regret saying anything if you rejected his feelings... but respect the decision somewhat.

That doesn't stop his overbearing behavior.

The comic does say when he puts his heart to something he won't give up until he accomplishes it.

Friend or lover, Dirk tends to act controlling.

Be it him talking to you through your robot, in the chat client, or in person if he ever meets you... Dirk seems to act like he knows more than you.

He has a bit of an ego and can come off as obnoxious in conversation at times.

He always acts like he knows what's best for you.

He looks back on the times he has acted like this with regret later... as I said, lucid yandere.

In fact a lot of his obsession makes Dirk regret it at times.

This could be because he harbors self-hatred for himself already and his obsession over you doesn't help.

He doesn't really want to give you up, though.

Dirk would manipulate you like a puppet at times.

For some reason when others are close to you, he hates it.

They could just be close friends, or potential partners...

He just can't handle it... he feels he has to prevent it or he may just lose the chance to have you.

Sometimes the darkness of his obsession kicks in and he... gives in to acts he shouldn't.

Such as using your robot to invade your privacy...

Maybe even manipulating your friends Jane, Roxy, and even Jake away from you...

That and the countless times he's considered kidnapping you to keep you alone with him just to soothe his aching thoughts.

Dirk seems like he'd struggle a lot with his obsession.

He hates the idea of hurting you.

He knows there's a good chance his obsession will hurt you, which hurts him...

All of this just causes him hurt.

Yet the more he speaks to you about interests and learns more and more about you...

He knows he can't let you go.

There's no doubt Dirk vents the frustrations his feelings cause him to Lil Cal his puppet pal.

Who else is he supposed to tell?

It's not like these feelings, regardless of the intention, are normal?

'Yeah, I stalk my friend through a robot and manipulate their life like some sort of puppet stage. What do I do to make them reciprocate?'

It's batshit and he knows it....

Roxy will just use it as gossip later... she may even tell you with some subtle hint or something.

Jane's a very sweet woman but he just feels... uncomfortable admitting he has such dark feelings about you?

You'd think Jake would be a good fit to talk to, being bros and all, but Dirk decides he'd rather just vent his feelings to himself and keep it like that.

Until he eventually acts....

Soon Dirk is going to just wing it.

It seems like a very Strider thing to do.

Your robotic companion he gifted is going to act against you in the end.

While he once used it to make you feel like je was always there with you... soon he's going to use it to abduct you.

Somehow.

Dirk's obsession feels like a constant battle with himself.

Even more so than his fights with AR.

He begins to wonder what is truly right.

Is isolating you beside him the right thing to do?

What will his friends say?

That shouldn't matter, should it?

You can all talk together when you're safely with him... if he hasn't scared them off by then-

Yet, how would YOU feel towards what he's doing?

You'll hate him... and he can't blame you.

He'd hate him too. He probably already does.

But... what he doesn't hate is you.

Surely he can make you understand once he has you.

Dirk has always tried to be caring for you.

Even when your robot companion drags you into his home, you clinging to it with fear, Dirk greets you warmly.

Oh he feels so sick when he locks you in his home.

He feels he doesn't deserve you when you cower... no longer willing to converse with him like you used to.

You don't deserve him, he deserves only to suffer under the weight of his obsession.

He's always beating himself up about it the whole time, yet won't change any of it.

Even if you do somehow forgive him.

Even if you try to say you do care for him?

He isn't sure if he can believe you after he's kidnapped you.

Don't bother lying, he sees through it.

You can hate him... you're allowed to as any other sensible human would.

There's truly nothing he can do to salvage what he once had for you after he goes off the deep end.

He's made you all alone... now there's only him.

He knows he should let you go...

But wouldn't it be cruel to abandon you after he made your life hell?

He continues his behavior with this new form of reassurance.

He'll continue to look after you, he'll prove to you he can give you so much better.

He tries to show affection.

He gives you hugs, he tries to express his obsession in a loving way.

Perhaps even kisses, some on your cheeks or lips depending on his feelings?

Lucid yanderes tend to be self-destructive.

They know this isn't how they should feel.

Dirk knows he should do what's best for you.

His mind has been clouded in darkness, however...

Far as he knows now, HE'S what's best for you.

He promises to care for you like he's always done since you mean so much to him... ironically to help heal the pain he's caused... and is probably still causing.

Dirk still helps you when you cry and comforts you when you act out.

He emphasizes with your pain and feels sick that he knows why you feel this way.

Every touch he feels from you his heaven, while you may think he's hell.

Every apology from his lips doesn't feel truthful... they're empty.

He could always let you go...

He could always try to make things right...

Those options require giving you up.

Deep down... he knows he can't.

He feels he can finally say it,

He loves you too much to let you go.

He may be his own worst enemy but he wants to be selfish when it comes to you.

He's always at a constant war with himself, resulting in him seeming distant with affection.

You quickly become his everything... thoughts of you destroy his psyche...

Soon... he gives up... he surrenders... he begins to accept it.

He loves you...

and this is how he's going to show it.

[lore-gore]

Ride The Cyclone Open Roleplay

Doing a Ride The Cyclone roleplay.

Jane Doe: Taken by me

Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg: Taken by @democracyrockzz

Noel Gruber: Taken by @astral--horrorshow

Constance Blackwood: Taken by @savannahwiththegreeneteyes @thenicestgirlintown

Mischa Bachinski: Taken by @parasolyaa

Ricky Potts: Taken by @krowsselfindulgy (@spacingbachelorette)

This will be the main trigger warning for the beginning of every scene:

Tw: death, unreality, body horror, implied gore, yelling, trauma, loss of identity, internalized queerphobia, horny teens being horny teens

This will also be in the tags.

Any other trigger warnings should be added to reblogs as well as tags.

The concept is basically if Karnak died before ressurecting anyone. So it's just them doing silly shenanigans as ghosts, singing songs we think they would sing, and probably a bit of angst. It will mainly act as a follow up to the 2016 bootleg version, with yannick's edits of course. (If you headcanon a different performance of your song for your character that's fine.)

We will also create character sheets consisting of name, gender, pronouns, age, sexuality, sign, birthday, favorite ride, appearance, personality, backstory, and "the most _ in town." (Mine is the only one without a sign, birthday, and favorite ride. If you forget, don't worry, I can edit it in.)

It's how you imagine the characters, with a mix of headcanons and canon.

The uniforms are the same as the 2016 ones but without the plaid.

How they wear their uniform and how they accessorize is up to you.

You can interpret the characters however you'd like, but make sure to stay faithful to their base character traits. (Things like Noel being gay and Misha being Ukrainian. Also Ricky using MOBILITY AIDS THANK YOU.)

Be as descriptive as possible. (See mine and my friends character sheets for examples!)

Also me and friends are high school students, so please only other high school students!

No NSFW roleplay. Talking about sex is fine, but no actual sex scenes! I'd prefer SFW blogs too.

Characters having crushes on other characters is allowed, but it might not be reciprocated. (Me and @democracyrockzz are pretty much planning to do perfectdolls.)

Every thread will be a scene. When you want to start a new scene, make a new thread. Give a synopsis of what the scene will be about, as well as the location in the fair.

Example:

New Scene

Synopsis: The choir plays a board game.

@democracyrockz reblogged

Ocean: Guys look what I found!

(Ocean emerges with a board game)

Noel's roleplayer reblogged

Noel: Oh god, no.

It will be a public thread so people who aren't in the roleplay can still enjoy it.

No racist, sexist, ableist, saneist, colorist, binarist, pigmentist, homophobic, transphobic, biphobic, panphobic, acephobic, arophobic, enbyphobic, queerphobic, xenophobic, islamophobic, fatphobic, misogynistic, transmisogynistic, body shaming, "pro-life", transid, "MAPS", pro contact para, TERF, anti semitic, anti neopronouns, anti xenogenders, anti mspec, anti BLM, anti feminist, or incel blogs.

Toxic behavior will not be tolerated. Hate comments will be deleted.

To claim your character, simply comment who you want to play or DM me.

Afterwords, write your character sheet. Take your time, the person playing Noel won't be ready for a little while so don't be rushed. (I'm getting ahead of time.) Make sure to tag me too.

Also let me know what to add to the main tw. If you plan on having your character bring a sensitive topic up, I need to add it.

I will then put your character sheet in the pinned post of my side blog @mystery-contestant. Make sure to follow it!

If you want to make changes to your already posted character sheet, edit the original post and send me a message letting me know!

You will know the roleplay has started as I will announce it on my side blog. I will be starting off the first "scene."

Also if there's something you think should be a main tw let me know!

We will be starting this summer!

Jane's character sheet!

Ocean's Character sheet!

Ricky's Character sheet!

Constance's Character sheet!

Breakdown of edits!

More:

[ticklace]

Intro time! Hi friends, I'm Lacey!

Long-time lurker who has finally mustered the courage to join the tickling community officially. Looking forward to making some friends here!

A bit about me... (👇 below the cut 👇)

27F from Southeast USA. She/her 🙂

I like/follow from my main blog, @cozy-clutter-pile (which was originally called ticklace, before I decided I wanted my main blog to focus on multiple topics and split off this side blog for tickling only)

dating the sweetest guy on the planet (read: not looking for romance unless you're @ticklishpirate 😘)

Asexual :) In a perpetual cuddly mood.

Neurodivergent (and how)

Hobbies include crafting, choral singing (what I lack in talent I make up for in enthusiasm 🙃), and snuggling my sweet doggo 🥰

Tickle Switch (lee/ler percentages vary wildly, on a person-to-person basis)

Might as well go ahead and add that I'm a huge fan of tummy tickles 😅 it's kinda my specialty lol

I post (tickly) fandom stuff on @cozy-cinnamon-roll! Be advised, it is almost entirely Stardew Valley content right now. 😅 (If you haven't seen me around for a bit on this blog, there's a good chance I'm obsessively posting about something over there... When I hyperfixate, I hyperfixate hard.)

I use tone indicators/tone tags regularly. Personally, I don't mind if other people use them or not (if you don't, I might just ask you to clarify sometimes if it's ambiguous), But I do need people listening to me to be comfy seeing them.

Below are the rules of my realm:

✨This is a trauma-friendly space✨ If you would like me to add content/trigger warnings for anything at all, I am more than happy to do so. ❤️

✨This is an LGBTQIA+ friendly space✨ I will block bigots indiscriminately and with relish.

✨This is a chub-friendly space✨ anyone who disrespects my soft friends can get the hell off my dash.

I do not see tickling in a sexual way. Many of the blogs I interact with and reblog from do, but you won't see anything explicit here.

This blog is not open to minors. "not sexual" does not automatically mean safe for minors. Ageless and under-18 blogs DNI.

If something I post makes you uncomfy, PLEASE let me know and I will remove it.

And finally, a disclaimer regarding my Lee side:

Lee!Lacey does not appear until I know you well enough to trust you. Do NOT send me lee-oriented teases/messages/asks unless we've discussed it ahead of time, or (preferably) you've asked me directly if it's okay.

I have a lot of quirky boundaries and past trauma related to being tickled, so direct communication and discussion of those boundaries is REQUIRED before any lee!Lacey interaction can happen.

I'm always open to new friends! I will warn you I find it much quicker to interact via comments, asks, and posts rather than DMs, since extended one-on-one conversations in text tend to be very draining on me for some reason.* So I tend to be a bit of a slow reply-er... but if you're down for DM chat at the speed of snail mail, I'm your gal 🐌 🐌 🐌

*that reason is that I am far more accustomed to being the roomba friend puttering around in the background than an actual Conversational Being. And I tend to use up all my Conversational Being Imitation juice in real life.

[cornflowerbluewrites]

this one was INTENSE I would love to hear your commentary

--

He cannot do it, Dick does not think he can live at the cost of his family dying. He is not willing to make that trade. He cannot make that trade. He cannot wake up tomorrow morning knowing that someone he loves is dead because they wanted to save him.

Dick refuses to make that trade. Refuses to risk the possibility of breaking the loop at the cost of their lives.

Everyone seems convinced that his death resets the time loop, restarts the day with everyone alive and well. That his death is the one consistent thing about today.

He might not be able to stop them from dying, but Dick can still save them. He can still reset the loop and restart the day. Dick can still save them, he will save them. He will not let his family down, he will not let them die like this.

--

Ooooh, boy, this scene. Oh this scene. This scene was one of the first scenes I wrote down in my outline when I started plotting out this fic, before I even had a firmed up order of operations. This was one of the big focal points of this fic because it's going to be impactful for the Bats, and was hopefully impactful for the readers.

Trigger waring for the rest of this post for suicidal ideation and suicidal actions.

So, at this point in the fic and this specific loop, Dick is pretty well aware that the Bats are in a time loop and is aware that the reset condition for the loop is his death. And then his family starts dying while he is literally handcuffed to a cot in the medbay. There is no way that he is going to be able to reach them in time to save any of them, but he knows how he can save them, he has been told how he can save them.

And while he might have been trying to convince himself otherwise earlier in the loop, right now he has faith in his family and what they have been telling him they have been going through, and he throws his whole faith behind them and he chooses to restart the loop by killing himself.

It is a leap of faith by the way, because the readers are aware that the day is looping (if you made it 11 chapters into a time loop fic unaware that the day is looping I don't know what to tell you, lol), and the Batfam is aware that the day is looping, but Dick isn't. He has to take them at their word, and he has to trust that they are being truthful and experiencing the world in an accurate way. He has to trust that him dying is going to be the thing that saves everyone.

Because Dick is, at his core, someone who wants to do good, and cannot stand the idea that someone, especially his family, died because of him or for him. He is not someone who will make peace with what he is perceiving as a trade off (their lives for his/them dying instead of or in place of him) easily. So his mind latches onto the idea that killing himself is the answer and his brain starts circling it until it's the best and only option. He will save them, and he is going to do it in the way he knows will work.

I actually waffled back and forth a lot on if I was actually going to fully commit to this scene. I wanted to, but it was really emotionally draining for me to finish writing because it was so intense and I wrote it relatively quickly, and I knew those factors going into it. So this whole chapter almost ended up on the cutting room floor (there have been a few scenes that ended up being cut or reworked for this fic) and you all almost got an altered scene where I brushed over everything and moved on, but it was important to me that this scene, as one of the bit emotional turning points for this fic, that this scene play out the way that it did and that the through line, of Dick wanting to save the people who are trying to save him, was highlighted.

Ask for more fic DVD commentary!

PS. Please let me know if I need to add any additional tags to this post, I tried to cover them all but I'm happy to add more if I need to!

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Stackson Week Day 4

The Bleeding Hearts Club

Rating: mature

Other tags: trans lydia, Derek Hale/ Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey/Scott Mccall/Allson Argent , Peter Hale/Chris Argent, Minor Character Death

triggers: fighting, drug use

Please let me know if I need to add any more tags.

Archive of Our Own

Chapter 4: Anxious and Afraid

Stiles chuckled, as he sat next to Isaac and Scott. “Hello, my wonderful friends, that I never see anymore.” 

Scott raised a brow at him. “I thought you were not allowed to leave the house?” He leaned back in Isaac’s arms, smiling at his friend. 

“Dad is at work and what he does not know won’t hurt him.” He leaned back and lit a cigarette. “I just wanted to see the world outside the house for a little while. Don’t tell me that you aren’t happy to see me.”

Scott chuckled. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” He pushed over a plate of brownies. “Allison made these. Enjoy one.” 

Stiles grabbed one, taking a bite. “So… things are going well between you three?” 

Isaac giggled. “Don’t eat with your mouth full, Stiles.” He kissed the top of Scott’s head. “We’re doing great. How are you and Jackson doing?” 

Stiles hummed as he finished his brownie. “We’re great, I guess. Mostly we just sit in his room and watch movies. Sometimes we make out a bit, but I’m not really sure what we are right now.” He bit lip. “At least I am comfortable knowing that his father completely hates me.” 

Scott shook his head. “He’s a fool. No one should hate you.” He pushed his shoulder softly. “But you like Jackson, right?” 

Stiles nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’ve never actually liked anyone like this before.” He smiled softly. “He’s kind of perfect.”  

Isaac giggled. “Yeah, a couple weeks ago you were calling him a rich entitled nerd.” 

Stiles groaned, wiping his face. “Don’t remind me. I was wrong, okay?”

Scott nodded. “He seems to have a good influence on you. You haven’t done a single drug since you got back. I am surprised I don’t even smell weed wafting off you.” 

Stiles shrugged. “Jackson doesn’t like the smell.” He put his cigarette out in the grass. “I should go. I just wanted some fresh air, but I need to be home when dad gets home. Jackson wants to go out tomorrow and I have to grovel to dad, and hope he will be lenient.” 

Scott chuckled. “Get out of here, Stiles. I hope it works out. Jackson sounds great. He was very polite at Chris’s dinner. Hey, try to see if your dad will allow you out Saturday. Allison is cooking this time.” 

Stiles nodded, grinning. “Maybe he’ll let me off for good behavior.” He grabbed another brownie and got up, walking back home. 

📚

Jackson stepped into the sheriff’s station and looked around. He smiled walking up to the reception desk. “May I please speak with the sheriff please?” 

The woman looked up at him smiling. “Let me see if he is available, hun. Is it an urgent matter?” 

Jackson chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “It really depends on what you consider urgent, but I guess not. I’m kind of dating his son.” 

Tara laughed softly. “Oh you’re Jackson. The sheriff talks about you all the time. Let me just call him.” She picked up a phone on her desk and pressed a button. “Sheriff. There is a nice young man here. He looks like he just might melt into the floor in a blob of nerves.” She chuckled, winking at Jackson. 

Jackson laughed, blushing deeply. “Oh my god…” He licked his lips as the sheriff poked his head out of his office. “Hello, Mr. Stilinski.” 

“Get in here, Jackson, before you cause the entire station to riot.” Noah laughed, mock glaring at the deputies. “Get back to work.” 

Jackson nodded, rushing over to the office. “Of course, Sheriff.” 

Noah closed the door behind them. “None of that. You can call me Noah. What can I do for you, Jackson?” He smiled, pouring them both a cup of coffee. “You look terrified. Calm down.” He sighed as he handed the teenager the coffee. 

Jackson nodded, holding the coffee close. “I’m, I know that Stiles is still grounded, but I had hoped… am hoping that you would allow me to take him on a proper date.” He squeaked out the end of his sentence. 

The sheriff chuckled, shaking his head. “Is that all you wanted? Calm down kid. Let me think. Allison called asking me to allow him to go to dinner Saturday night, and you want him to go on a date with you?” The sheriff sat at his desk, staring at the boy for a moment. “Okay. I think he can get a couple of days reprieve, for good behavior. You can take him out Friday evening, but I want him back by 11pm. You pick him up and drop him off on my doorstep. Do you mind taking him to this dinner at Allison’s” 

Jackson grinned, taking a sip of his coffee. He cringed looking at his cup. “That is bloody awfull.” He chuckled. “I agree to all your terms, sir. I just thought I’d take him to dinner and a movie.” 

“Alright, but I am not asking him out for you. Why don’t you go over to the house and ask him yourself.” The sheriff chuckled, winking at him. “One more thing, no drinking, drugs, or sex.” 

Jackson squeaked and nodded. “God no, sir. I don’t drink or do drugs… I’m not sure I’m ready for sex. The farthest we’ve gotten is kissing.”  

Noah nodded. “Just establishing the rules. Do not worry, kid. Get out of here.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Jackson hopped up. He put the cup of coffee on the desk and ran out of the station. He headed straight to Stiles’s house, and rang the bell. 

Stiles answered the door and leaned against the frame. “Well, hello, beautiful.” He reached out and took his hand. “Don’t know why you are here, but you are a sight for sore eyes.” 

Jackson grinned, kissing him softly. “I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner and a movie with me, Friday night.” 

Stiles pouted. “I would love to, but I’m grounded. My father would never go for it.” 

Jackson chuckled. “I already got his permission. He also said I can take you to Allison’s Saturday night. That is two nights you have free.” 

Stiles chuckled. “You are amazing. Thank you. I would love to go on a date with you, babe.” He pulled him into another kiss and sighed happily. “Why don’t you stay and watch a movie?” 

Jackson grinned. He could not believe how happy Stiles made him. He did not think it was possible to be this happy. “If I do that, I doubt we’ll watch the movie.” 

“Is that a problem?” Stiles grinned, pulling him into the house. “You can’t leave me here all alone. I’m so lonely, Jackson.” He sighed, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so dramatic, Stiles.” Jackson laughed and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He groaned, letting Stiles’s tongue into his mouth. 

Stiles whimpered as they fell to the couch, with Jackson on top of him. He wrapped his arms around the other boy and lost himself in the kiss. He could almost forget about all trouble in his life at that moment. It felt entirely too soon when Jackson pulled away from the kiss. Stiles flushed, tracing his cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

Jackson grinned and kissed his neck. “Thank you. You are too. I really like you, Stiles.” He kissed up his jaw line and smiled, hearing him sigh. “I love these moments.” 

Stiles groaned letting his head fall back. “I like you too, Jackson. Don’t ruin it by talking.” He gripped Jackson’s hair, pulling him back into a kiss. 

Jackson groaned, shifting his hips. He whimpered, feeling Stiles hard under him. “Fuck…” He pulled away and sat next to Stiles. “I… I’m sorry.” He shook his head, trying to calm himself down. 

Stiles frowned, staring up at him. “What’s wrong?” He sat up and kissed him, softly. 

Jackson shook his head. “I just need a minute to cool down.” He blushed, looking over at him. “You know that I like you… I have never felt like this for anyone, but I’m not ready for sex, Stiles.” 

Stiles raised a brow at him. “I never said anything about Sex, Jackson. I would never push you.” 

“You didn’t. Your father did. He said that he did not want any drinking drugs or sex on the date Friday.” He chuckled. 

Stiles groaned, pulling his hair. “Fuck. That must have really freaked you out. I’m Sorry Jackson.” He chuckled softly. “Jackson, babe, I’m not ready sex either. If I didn’t care about you, I probably would have brought the topic up already, but I am actually hoping this relationship goes somewhere beyond sex.” 

Jackson nodded, chuckling softly. “I’m such a disaster at this type of thing. I felt you were hard and totally freaked out.” 

Stiles grinned, smirking softly. “I’m sorry. I think that is the body's proper reaction when my hot boyfriend is laying on top of me.” 

Jackson chewed his lip. “Boyfriend?” 

Stiles blushed, looking away from Jackson for a moment. “I didn't mean to say that.” He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “I kind of… I guess we are boyfriends.” He looked back at Jackson. “I’ve never had a boyfriend, you have to understand-“ 

Jackson grinned and kissed him. “No, it’s fine.” He bit his lip, laughing. “I would really love to be your boyfriend, and we can learn together what that means.” 

Stiles smiled, blushing. “So, you’re okay with the whole boyfriend thing, and taking it slow?” 

Jackson nodded. “Of course I’m okay, Stiles. We’ve only been dating for two weeks.” He gripped his hand, kissing the back. “So… you promised a movie. I am sure that your father will not mind if I stay a bit longer.” 

Stiles grinned. “Great idea. Dad just got a new copy of Blade runner.” 

“Sounds wonderful.” Jackson smiled and kissed him, moaning as they began leaning back on the couch. 

Stiles chuckled, pulling away. “You keep doing that and we’ll never watch that movie.” 

Jackson groaned. “You’re right.” 

📚

Stiles chuckled, plucking a cherry tomato from Allison’s salad. Allison slapped his hand. “You steal another tomato Stilinski and I will cut your hand off, next time.” 

Stiles grinned, plopping the tomato into his mouth. “It’s not my fault that you chose the tomatoes that I enjoy the best.” He jumped off the counter and kissed her cheek. “So, how can I help?”

Allison smiled and rolled her eyes. “Wow, you’re offering to help? What have you done with Stiles?” She tossed him a box. “Preheat the oven and put the garlic bread in the oven.” 

Stiles smiled, reading the instructions on the box. “Sorry if I am in a good mood?” 

“Hmm,” Allison chuckled. “Does Jackson have anything to do with this good mood?” She leaned against the counter as she watched him. Dinner was near completion and she was actually getting a little tired. She had no idea how her father did this every week. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in years.” 

“He might.” Stiles sighed, thinking about his boyfriend, who was sitting in the living room with all his friends. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” He chewed his lip. “You all like him, right? I know I was such an asshole about him last time, but I was wrong. I really like him.” 

Allison laughed. “Listen to you. Don’t worry. We love him.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “Just like we love you. Now put that garlic bread in the oven. So it can cook while the spaghetti sauce simmers.” 

Stiles nodded as he did what he was told. Peter walked into the kitchen. “So, Stiles, you are just leaving your new boyfriend to the wolves while you are hanging in the kitchen with my daughter?” 

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sure he is surviving. It’s not like he hasn’t met all of you.” 

Peter leaned against the counter with his arms crossed in front of him. “Ah, but now he is your boyfriend. You are letting the boy you like sit with the people who know all the most embarrassing stories about you.” 

“Oh my god.” Stiles gasped, running out the kitchen with Peter laughing behind him. Stiles skid into the living room where everyone was playing cards against humanity. “Hey, babe. What are you guys talking about?” He kissed his cheek and sat next to him. “Deal me in?” 

Jackson leaned against him and sighed. “Nothing significant. We were just talking about graduation.” He nuzzled his neck and kissed the hickey he had given Stiles the night before. “And what our plans were before we all split up in the fall.” 

Stiles hummed. “I think I am going to the police academy.” 

Jackson stared at him. They had not really talked about that yet. “Really? I thought you wanted to go into forensics?” 

Stiles shrugged. “If I work at the station with dad, I can study and work up to forensics. Maybe I can help build a forensic department for our sheriff’s station.” 

Jackson grinned and pulled him into a kiss. “That sounds amazing.”

Stiles nodded. “Chris said that if I graduate, he’d help me pay for school. I just have to study and stay clean.” 

Jackson wrapped him in a hug and kissed him passionately. They pulled apart when the others around them made choking noises. Stiles flipped them off and sighed. “Come on. I know where Peter and Chris keep the wine. Dinner will be done soon and Allison will want a good wine to pair with her spaghetti.” 

Jackson nodded, and stood up with him. “I’m sure she has already chosen the wine, luv.” He chuckled as he followed him down to the wine cellar. He had no idea why he was arguing when he knew that Stiles was just finding an excuse for them to make out. 

Stiles grinned as he turned, wrapping his arms over his shoulders. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

“So bossy.” Jackson grinned, kissing him lovingly. “Hmm, I am starting to believe that you cannot go an afternoon without kissing me.” 

Stiles hummed, kissing his jaw. “I certainly am starting to believe that. You are addictive, babe.” He trailed kisses over his neck, letting out a soft sigh. “I could eat you up,” 

Jackson whimpered and leaned against the wall as he got lost in the sensations his boyfriend was sending through him. “Stiles… You are terrible.” He chuckled. Pulling him into a hungry kiss. His hands ran over his sides and gripped his ass. 

Stiles groaned into the kiss and jumped up, wrapping his legs around Jackson. He never thought he would feel like this and he never wanted it to stop. The world was spinning but it felt like Jackson was holding him steady.  He let out a long moan and kissed over his neck, as his back hit the door to the cellar. 

Jackson heard a door slam and pulled away. “Did you hear that?” 

Stiles was kissing over his neck. “Hear what?” 

Jackson put him down. “I think the door is closed.” 

Stiles looked around and panicked. “Oh, no,no,no.” He ran forward and tried to open the door. “Bloody hell, No” He slammed his hands on the door and leaned his head against the door frame. “This door cannot be opened from the inside. It’s a safety precaution.” 

“Why would that be safe?” Jackson pulled out his phone and held it up trying to get a signal. 

“In case of a fire or something like that happening upstairs. It’s a bomb shelter that Chris converted into a wine cellar.” He gasped, sliding down the door, and pulling his legs up to his chest. “Oh my god… I can’t do this.” 

Jackson sat in front of him, and took his hands. “Luv, it’ll be okay. I’ll just get a phone signal somehow and I’ll call Levi to get us out of here. If I can’t do that, they know we are down here.” He kissed his hands and sighed. “They will come get us before dinner is served.” 

“We are locked in here.” Stiles whimpered, looking around, eyes growing a bit wild. He was not good with closed spaces, and he was not able to really listen to what Jackson was saying, “The door doesn’t open.” 

Jackson gripped his chin and kissed his forehead. “Look at me, luv. It’s okay. Someone will know we are missing and open the door for us.” He was really starting to worry about his boyfriend. “Let me know you are listening to me, luv.” 

Stiles shook his head as he started shaking. He let Jackson pull him into his lap. “The door is locked.” He buried himself in the other man’s neck. 

Jackson carried him to the other side of the room and sat him in a chair. “Okay, Luv, I need you to breathe with me.” He grabbed a random bottle of champagne and pulled the cork, handing the bottle to stiles. “Take a drink.” He wasn’t really sure how to handle someone who was in the throes of a panic attack. 

Stiles took the bottle and began gulping down the champagne. 

“Whoa, not so fast.” Jackson sighed, pulling the bottle away. “Can you look at me, my love?” 

Stiles looked into his eyes. “The door is locked.” 

Jackson nodded. “Yes it is, but everything is going to be okay. We are safe here.” 

“I don’t like this.” Stiles pulled out a pack of cigarettes and looked around as he lit one. He felt like the world was slowly coming back to him, but he was still having trouble focusing on anything but the fact that they were locked in a very small room. “What the bloody hell was I thinking?” 

Jackson chewed his lip, sitting in front of him. “We weren’t exactly thinking. We were kind of lost in making out.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry I got you into this. I kind of lose my mind around you.” 

Stiles chuckled nervously, wiping his eyes. He took another swig of the champagne and sighed. “You make me go crazy, Jackson. All I want to do is kiss you and have you touching me” He pecked his lips. “And now we are locked in a fucking room the size of a broom closet.” 

“Hey, it’s bigger than that, luv.” He cupped his cheek, kissing him lovingly. “You really don’t like small spaces, huh?” 

Stiles shook his head, resting their foreheads together. “I don’t like feeling trapped. I don’t like walls with no way to escape.” 

Jackson nodded, holding him close. “Don’t think about the walls. We’re back on campus, sitting on our bench. The wind is blowing the leaves around us as I kiss you.” Jackson smiled. 

Stiles chuckled and closed his eyes, relaxing in his arms. “And then Mr. Harris will badger us because we are committing the greatest of sins, public displays of affections.” He grinned, kissing his neck.

Jackson laughed, running his hand through his hair. “Oh, how scandalous.” He kissed him softly. “And then I’ll end up in detention with you at lunch. 12 years of education and not a single detention. All ruined because I simply cannot resist kissing my boyfriend.” 

Stiles groaned, kissing his neck. “You are such a nerd. Why do I love you again?” He froze looking at Jackson. “I mean… shit.” 

Jackson shook his head and sighed. “Please don’t freak out, Stiles.” He squeezed his hand and sighed. “It was a simple slip of the tongue. I understand if you are not ready for that particular sentiment.” 

Stiles groaned. “We;ve been dating for like two weeks. I really like you, but I don’t think we are ready for that.” 

Jackson nodded, kissing him softly. “Then not saying that just yet.” He grinned at him. “Conflict averted.” 

Stiles chuckled. “You are entirely too reasonable.” He sighed, resting his head on Jackson’s shoulder. He looked up as the door was opened. 

Chris popped his head in. “Dinner’s ready. Did you guys close this door? You know it can’t be opened from the inside?” 

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I understand that, Mr. Argent.” He got up and took Jackson’s hand, leading him up the stairs. “Thank you.” He blushed, looking into Christopher’s eyes. 

Chris nodded, patting his shoulder. “No problem. Maybe you shouldn’t go down to the cellar to make out?” 

Jackson smiled at the man. “Trust me, we’ve learned our lesson.” He followed Stiles back into the kitchen and smiled as they took their seats. 

Stiles looked around the table smiling. “This looks delicious, Allison.” He sighed as he began to eat. He was not really sure what else to say. They had been locked in the cellar for what felt like hours but they were probably only in there for minutes. 

📚

Stiles stood in Peter’s office, pacing in front of his desk. “You have got to fix that cellar door. I… damn. I freaked out in front of Jackson, and he was… dammit, he was so bloody perfect.” He looked up at the professor and sighed. “I fell apart and he stayed so level headed.” 

Peter raised a brow. “Why are you talking to me about this? Look kid, maybe Jackson is good for you. You haven’t come to me once since you started dating that kid. Sit down, Stiles. We have a few things to talk about.” 

Stiles sighed and nodded as he sat down. “That does not sound promising.” 

Peter chuckled. “You disappeared for 10 days worrying the fuck out of all of us. You went to London, with my drugs and about a thousand dollars of my money.” Peter growled. “I’m pissed.” 

“Oh god.” Stiles groaned. At least he knew where he had gotten the money for the hotel. “I’ll pay you back, Peter.” 

Peter nodded. “You will, but you will never pull a stunt like that again. Do we understand each other?” 

Stiles sighed, running a hand over his face. “I understand. Why haven’t you brought this up before now?” 

“Because I hadn’t gotten you alone yet.” Peter growled. “You know I keep this part of my life out of the school, and that Chris can never know about it.” 

Stiles shrunk under his glare, nodding. “ I got it. How do I plan to pay you back?” 

Peter sighed. “Well, seeing that I plan to never let anyone else find out about this little side project, I want you in class every day, for at least one of your free periods, helping me to go through my research. I think that sounds fair. That is just a start.” 

“Of course, Peter.” Stiles groaned. “Anything else?” 

“Stay out of my shit, Stiles. I thought I could trust you. Chris came dangerously close to figuring out where you get your shit.” Peter sighed. “I can’t do this anymore. I thought if you got it from me, I could keep you safe… but you proved me wrong by running off like that.” 

Stiles chewed his lip, nodding. “I’m going to stay clean.” 

Peter ruffled his hair. “You better kid. Get out of here so your boyfriend can take you home.” 

Stiles nodded as he got up and ran out of the office. He met up with Jackson. “Can you take me home now?” 

“Sure, luv.” He took his hand and led him out to the Porsche. “What’s wrong?” 

“Just another lecture about running off and how I need to stay clean.” Stiles sighed. “

Jackson kissed his hand. “They just really care about you.” 

Stiles chuckled. “I’m just not really sure about that sometimes.” 

Jackson smiled. “I am. They love you.” 

📚

Stiles stood outside campus and looked up at the Latin etched into the side of the building. One month, he had to survive this hell hole for one more month. He walked into the building, making his way through the halls. It was Saturday, so there were not that many students here. He found his way to Mrs. Martin’s office and knocked on the door. 

The professor opened the door, smiling at him. “Come in, Stiles. It is nice to see you.” She gestured at a chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat please.” 

Stiles smiled at her as he sat down. “Levi said you wanted to see me.” 

She nodded, sitting behind her desk. “Yes, don’t worry. You are not in trouble. It’s the opposite, really.” She pulled his file in front of her and sighed. “In the last month, you have shown remarkable improvement. I have no doubt that you will pass my class, if you keep up the good work.” 

Stiles blushed, pushing the hair out of his face. “Jackson has been a tremendous help. I know that I have been a real asshole this last year.” 

Mrs. Martin chuckled. “Stiles, I understand that you have been through a lot, and you are Levi’s best friend. I never wanted you to fail.” She studied him for a few moments. “You have a month and two exams until graduation. I trust that you can make us all proud?” 

Stiles smiled, nodding. “I plan on it. Professor Martin.” 

“Call me Natalie, Stiles.” She let out a long breath. “I have one more point to cover with you and this was a request from your father.” She stood up and handed him a business card. “You are going to start seeing the school psychiatrist starting Monday. This is non negotiable. Your father has told me that if you do this, he will lift your grounding.” 

Stiles groaned, taking the card. “I really have to do this? You’re serious.” 

Natalie nodded. “We want the best for you. You have to get over this hill that is blocking your path.” 

Stiles puffed out a breath, pouting. “I already have tutoring, helping Peter with his research project, classes, and homework. How am I supposed to fit this into my schedule?

She grinned at him. “You will figure it out. I have faith in you.” 

Stiles glared at her for a moment before nodding. “Can I go now?” 

“Of course, Stiles. Call me if you need anything.” She patted his shoulder. 

“Whatever.” He sighed, leaving the office. He walked to the library to meet Jackson. 

Jackson looked up, grinning as Stiles sat in front of him. “How was your meeting with Professor Martin?”

Stiles shrugged, tapping his fingers on the table. “She just wanted to let me know I have been doing much better in her class.” He chuckled, bitterly. “And that I am no requires to attend meetings with the school psychiatrist.” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “As if I don’t already have a full schedule.” 

Jackson reached over and took his hand. “Hey, You and I can meet anytime that you are available.” He smiled, running his thumb over his palm. “Don’t you think it’ll be good for you to talk to someone?” 

Stiles glared at him for a moment. “No, I talk plenty, with you and Levi, but my father said that he would only lift my punishment if I see the psychiatrist.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So, I guess I’ll be talking to this unknown person who knows nothing about me.”

Jackson groaned. “Stiles, Levi and I do not have the education or experience to really help you, the way that you need. I do not mind listening to you and comforting you, but I want you to be able to get the help you need.”

”And do you really think I want that? I know that I have screwed up, but I don’t need all this crap.” He stood, straightening his jacket. “I’ve been clean for over a week, and I’ve started cutting back on the cigarettes.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. “I don’t want to talk to someone I don’t know, letting them judge me.” 

“She won't judge you Stiles. Her job is to listen without judgment and to give you advice to manage your past trauma.” Jackson sighed. 

“Fuck that. I don’t need to manage anything, Jackson.” He groaned, shaking his head. “I’ll call you later.”  

Jackson stood and reached for his hand. “Stiles, please don’t leave like this. I just want you to be happy.” 

“I am happy. Why can’t you all get that?” He let out a breath. “As happy as I am going to get…as happy as I deserve.” 

Jackson shook his head. “That is what I’m talking about. You don’t think you deserve happiness? Luv. Just go see the psychiatrist. If nothing else, it’ll allow me and you to go out without having to ask your dad every time.” 

Stiles nodded. “Fine, I really do need to go. I’ll call you.” He kissed Jackson and smiled. 

Jackson smiled. “See you Monday.” 

📚

Jackson flipped through the college guide for oxford and took a few notes. Someone sat in front of him at the café table and he looked up. “Oh, hello sheriff.” He put the book aside and took a sip from his latte. “What can I do for you?”

The man smiled at him. “Can I ask you an invasive question?” 

Jackson raised a brow, and nodded. “Yes… I can’t guarantee I will answer.” 

”Of course, I just need to talk to you about Stiles.” He nodded at the waitress as he accepted his coffee. “Do you see you and Stiles getting serious?” 

Jackson chuckled. “I’m not sure, Sir. We’ve been seeing each other for less than a month.” He chewed his lip, thinking. “I really care about him, and he seems to like me. I… can I be frank with you?” The sheriff nodded and Jackson took a deep breath. “It’s too early to guarantee anything, and I leave for Oxford at the end of the summer. Stiles doesn’t need me. He needs something more stable, and I’m not sure what my father will say when he finds out I’m dating a man, much less someone who is a drug addict.” 

Noah frowned, staring at him a moment while he tried to gather his thoughts. “You haven’t told your father about Stiles?” 

Jackson shook his head, blushing. “I don’t exactly know how to approach the subject with him. He knows I’ve been spending a lot of time with Stiles, but I don’t know how to tell him that I’m… Well am I gay, or bisexual… I don’t know.” He groaned, wiping his face. I’ve never dated before. I’ve never really been attracted to anyone before Stiles.” He let out a breath. “I never want to hurt him, but am I really what he needs? But what if I fall completely in love with him and it doesn’t work out? And my father will lecture me on-“

”Hey, hey, calm down, Jackson.” Noah sighed. “”You know, you don’t have to have everything figured out, right now?” 

Jackson looked at him, a little panicked. “I’ve never not had everything figured out for me. Everything was always planned out for me by my father. Stiles is wild and unpredictable. I am falling in love with him and… I want it to be serious, but he might never want that.” 

The sheriff nodded. “I like you Jackson. You’re a good kid. David is a good man. He’ll love you, no matter who you love.” He took a long drink from his coffee. “This is pretty good coffee. It’s much better than the station.” He chuckled. “As far as Stiles goes, both of you are very young. Stiles needs to focus on healing, and you need to focus on who you are, outside of your parents. Just try not to take anything too seriously.” 

Jackson nodded. “”Sorry to unload all of that on you.” 

Noah smiled. “It’s alright, kid. I know what it’s like to be in a new relationship, even if it’s been 20 years.” He chuckled. “I’m just worried that Stiles will do something stupid if he gets too overwhelmed.”

Jackson nodded. “He’s upset about being forced to go to see a psychiatrist.” 

The sheriff nodded. “I’m afraid that I will not yield on that. He needs to talk to someone who has the knowledge and experience to help him. I appreciate all you have done for my boy, but you are not a trained expert.” 

“I understand, sir.” Jackson smiled at the sheriff, fixing his hat and glasses. “I will try to make sure he doesn’t get too overwhelmed.” He looked at his watch and sighed. “I really should get  back to campus to meet Stiles for our tutor session. Do you mind if I take him to dinner afterwards?” 

The sheriff shook his head. “Not at all. Have an enjoyable evening.” He dropped his hands on the table. “Well, I guess I should be going too. The station does not run itself.” 

Jackson nodded and shook his hand. “We should talk again, sir. Thank you.” He blushed softly as he grabbed his bag and walked out of the café. He could not believe he had just had that conversation with his boyfriend’s father. He knew he had to talk to his own father about his relationship with Stiles, but he was really not sure where to start. 

📚

Stiles laughed as he and Jackson were swinging at the park. “You were really ambushed by my dad at the coffee shop?” 

Jackson chuckled, shrugging as a blush covered his cheeks. “I would not really call it an ambush. He just wanted to know where you and I stand, as far as a relationship goes. I told him that we’ve only been going out for a month. I can’t really answer that question.” 

Stiles stopped swinging and kissed him softly. “Did you want something more serious?” 

“Stiles, I leave for oxford at the end of the summer. Do you want something more?” Jackson blushed, twisting his swing. He really did not want to have this conversation again today, or to be rejected. “I really don’t know what I want.” 

Stiles licked his lips and groaned, looking up at the moon. “Honestly Jackson. I don’t know either. I’m not sure if I am ready for a serious relationship. Can’t we just have fun for now?” He stared into Jackson’s eyes and smiled. “Do you hate me for that?” 

Jackson shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. You are being perfectly reasonable Stiles.” He got up and stood up to kneel in front of Stile’s swing. “We’ve known each other for a month and I don’t know where this is going. We can just enjoy each other’s company for as long as we still feel comfortable doing so.” 

Stiles grinned and kissed him lovingly. “Sounds perfect, babe.” He plucked his hat off his boyfriend’s head and put it on his own. “Kiss me like you miss me.” 

Jackson laughed, pulling him into a hungry kiss. 

📚

Jackson opened his dorm door and his father walked in. “Oh. Hello father.” He grinned and opened the door for the older man to come inside. “What can I do for you today?” 

David grinned. “Just checking in. How are you doing?” He sat at his son’s desk, looking around the room. “Just another month in this room and then you get to graduate.” 

Jackson nodded, sitting on his bed. “I guess so. I’m doing alright. I actually was thinking about talking to you. I need to tell you something.” He sighed and began cleaning his glasses. “I’ve started seeing someone.” 

“Oh, that is great. What’s her name? We’re going to have to have her over for dinner.” His father chuckled, slapping his knee. “I’m sure your mother will love to make a night of it.” 

Jackson blushed, shaking his head. “Yeah, no. His name is Stiles… I understand if you are upset with me, but-” 

His hand held his hand up and shook his head. “So.. you’re telling me that you’re gay?”

Jackson coughed and shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure. I just know that I am attracted to Stiles.” 

His father sighed, running his hand over his face. “Jackson. You are a young man, and that comes with a certain amount of experimentation. I am not going to deny you that right, but does it have to be Stiles?” He chuckled nervously. 

Jackson raised a brow at him. He was not really sure how he was supposed to take that question. “You really don’t know him, father. He’s had a hard year and a half, but he really is a nice guy, once you get past the stupid mistakes.” He shook his head. “But if you knew the reasons behind the stupid mistakes, you wouldn’t be so hard on him.” 

David shook his head, glaring at his son. “He’s a drug addict and a punk. I don’t care if you want to be gay, Jackson. I just don’t want you dating him.” 

Jackson got up to pace the room. “I can’t believe you are acting like this. You don’t know him, and… I don’t know if I’m gay, but even if I were, it’s not something you just choose to be.” He let out a long breath, rubbing his eyes. “I really like Stiles, father. You don’t have to like it, but I would like you to at least accept it.” 

David nodded, looking at the far wall. “He’s not good enough for you, Jackson. I don’t see this fling lasting past the summer. And imagine how a relationship with him will look for your political career. Being gay is not political suicide, as it used to be, but who you're with can still be used as a weapon against you.” 

Jackson shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, Stiles and I have already talked about that. We agree with you on that point.” Jackson chuckled, shaking his head. Dad, I don’t care about a political career. That has always been your dream for me. So, are you okay with this?” 

The man nodded, looking up at his son. “The political talk is not over. We can discuss that later. If I catch you doing drugs with this punk, I will press full charges on the both of you.” The man growled. “And you’ll be putting your entire academic career in danger. Your reputation will never recover.” 

Jackson sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Have a little faith in me. I would never touch drugs, and Stiles is in recovery. He hasn't done any drugs in weeks. He’s actually a pretty good guy, father. He just hit a rough patch in life.” 

David raised a brow at him. “Exactly my point. He had a year and a half of bad choices and they will follow him the rest of his life. Don’t let this fling bring you down with him.” 

Jackson chewed his lip, nodding. “And if it turns into more than just a fling, as you put it?” 

David groaned, shaking his head. “Don’t let it, Jackson. If you want to spend your life with a man, that is fine, but not Stiles. Have your fun now, but there comes a time when you have to get serious and settle down with someone respectable.” 

“And respectable is someone you approve of, father? I can’t believe I am seeing this side of you. You are judging Stiles without really knowing him.” 

David sighed. “You have known this boy for a month. I’ve known him for five years. He had such a promising future and he threw it all away for a few drugs.” 

“He lost one of his best friends, father. He did not know how to deal with it.” Jackson growled. “Maybe if some had reached out to him….” He threw his hands up in the air. “You are looking at him from the surface. People are deeper than that.” 

The man nodded, sighing. “I know about Erica. The event was… how do I say this? All the parents talked about it when it happened. Stiles and his friends went up to the cliffs and got drunk. Erica tripped and fell. It was none of their fault, but it happened.” 

Jackson growled. “You knew and you did nothing to help Stiles?” 

David stared at him. “What was I supposed to do Jackson? I offered him an ear to talk to. I sent him to the school counselor, but he refused all help. Then he started acting out. I did all I could.” 

Jackson shook his head. “He was hurting. I have learned more about the human capacity to hurt in the last month than I have in 18 years. I really care about Stiles and I really don’t want it to end after the summer.” 

David sighed. “I don’t have the right to choose who you love, Jackson. But make sure that he is the right choice. You deserve the best, and to be happy. If he makes you happy. I guess I have nothing else to say.” 

Jackson smiled, tears filling his eyes. “Thanks, dad.” He nodded, chewing his lip. “I guess that’s it. I did not want to fight you on this.” 

David smiled as he stood and hugged him. “I wasn’t kidding earlier. Bring him to dinner with me and your mother friday.” 

Jackson groaned. “Father… He is still grounded” . 

David chuckled. “I’m sure I can talk to the sheriff and get him to agree. Hell, the sheriff can join us.” 

Jackson sighed and nodded. “Of course, father.” 

To be continued…