#Para: Self

[askhunterclarington]

Surrender || Self-Para

CHARACTERS: Hunter Clarington, mentions of Kitty Wilde. DATE & TIME: December 6th, 8pm LOCATION: Hunter's bedroom. SUMMARY: Hunter reflecting on some things, and facing his very evident feelings for Kitty. WARNINGS: Brief mentions of sex. Nothing in depth.

It had been three days and since the snow storm that had lead to Kitty and Hunter running back to Kitty's apartment. And it had also been three days since that god awful attempt at sex. An attempt that had Hunter cringing even still just at that thought of. Due to no fault of Kitty's of course, and completely due to his own which most certainly made things worse. At least Kitty had some sort of valid reasoning for nerves. It was supposed to be her first time after all, nerves were perfectly normal. But not for Hunter. He was supposed to the experienced one. The cool, calm and collected gentleman that had been so assured and ready to please at any given time. The one that made promise after promise of a stellar performance - an unforgettable one, even. Not this shell of the façade he'd put on for months now, caving and failing at the very first opportunity presented. Kitty wasn't coming back now, that he was sure of.

It had been two days and ten hours since he'd snuck out in the morning after sleeping on the couch, too ashamed to face her the next day.

Things had already been awkward at very best as he took the couch, there was no way that it was going to be any better when they woke. Kitty had also made zero attempt to contact him, so Hunter was more than confident that things had been done. He'd played the long game, and he'd still lost. And all because of the stupid butterflies that had settled their way into the pit of his stomach and refused to leave. It hadn't helped that his mind had also been sent into overdrive, trying to live up to not only the expectation that he assumed Kitty had set, but to his own. The expectation that everything had to be memorable, satisfying. It had to be perfect.

Hunter should have known applying such pressure was only a recipe for disaster. Spontaneous sex was the best sex, and whilst it was certainly spontaneous in the most technical sense of the word, in Hunter's mind it was anything but. He'd been thinking about it for weeks now. What he would do when the time came. How things would be managed. Ways to keep Kitty feeling as comfortable, and happy at the end of the experience as she possibly could be. To ensure that the choice wouldn't be something that she's grow to regret later down the line. And yet none of it mattered when it came down to it. He'd done everything he'd thought so hard on avoiding. The memory of her first attempt spoiled immediately with his lack to even really get going to begin with. The one fear that he'd had playing out before him, and all thanks to his own doing.

Countless times during the past couple of days he'd picked up his phone. Typed out a text, some form of apology over the poor (or compete lack of) performance on his behalf, a brief phone call to explain himself. To let her know that he missed her dearly and would give anything to try just one more time- but he found himself deleting it or locking the screen once again just as quickly, the nerves regarding what her possible responses could have been keeping him frozen in limbo.

In his mind, it could only go one of two ways. She's tell him to leave her alone and that she never wanted to see him again, immediately shutting him down; which was a sting far worse than he was willing to admit to himself. A heartbreak that he'd been sheltering himself from for years, and had not been willing to put himself through.

Or she's ask him why. Why did he struggle so much to the point that nothing happened? The outcome where he would be forced to admit that he cared for this far more than he had been willing to admit. Not only to her, but also to himself. He would have to face the reality that he had fallen for her. Hard. Kitty Wilde had him, completely.

This was no longer some fun game of cat and mouse, seeing who would cave first. Their flirty banter that was once light-hearted teasing, now held a deeper meaning to the young man. It was more than some harmless fun; and in feeling this way, what should have been something relatively simple, was suddenly so much more complicated. He'd been in his own head by trying to be selfless, and in turn, still ruined the moment he'd been trying so hard to perfect. It was excruciating, though, doing nothing at all.

And so once more, Hunter picked up his phone, scrolling through the list of contacts until he found the number he was looking for. 'Kit' with the kissing emoji beside it lit up the screen, the contact image of blonde hair and a dazzling smile right above her number. Hunter wasn't usually one for mushy contacts, but like any of what he had going on with Kitty, she had him doing things he never thought he would.

Sitting in his bed, Hunter's thumb hovered over his screen; but once more he found himself hesitating before pressing to dial the number. Why was this so fucking hard? Slamming the phone down onto his bed, Hunter let out a groan in frustration as his head fell back against the pillows once more, his mind racing at a million miles an hour. Being honest with himself, he knew what he needed to, he just needed to find the courage to actually do it. The things he was feeling terrified the crap out of him, but not having Kitty? Well that scared him even more.

Jumping up, Hunter grabbed his phone and quickly tucked it into his pocket before racing to grab his coat. He'd been wallowing in his own self-pity for too long, and he needed to stop. If this was all going to blow over in the end, there was no way that it was going to happen without him having laid it all out on the line first. He'd been too afraid to dive in the last time, he wasn't going to make that same mistake again. This time, he was going to get the girl. Or, he'd go down trying.

[thejugheadjones]

Going Through The Motions || 11/19/23, After 1pm

Jughead felt as though he were running on autopilot, and in a way that was exactly what he was doing. His body had been going through the motions of what was expected of him since the mock auction the day before. He'd not fought, argued, or even given the guards any sort of dirty look. He hadn't even registered it when one of them commented on his newfound obedience and how it had been only a matter of time before he learned his place. Jughead felt numb, detached and as though he were floating and watching his body move on it's own accord without any control or input from him.

The final morning seemed to go by in a blur, or maybe it was the fact Jughead had not slept at all the night before and had seemingly lost all sense of time. He joined the groups of students as they were finally released and able to return to the school. The fact Jughead had asked JB to tell him where to go after this was probably the only reason the Switch found himself walking past the floor to his room and walking directly to his sister's room. He knew Delilah had been working to get things in order for them when they got there, including the spare room for Jug if he desired it.

He said nothing to either Delilah or JB as he instantly zeroed in on the spare room and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment before slowly sliding down the door until he was sitting in front of it, his back pressed against it as he sat there and stared blankly across the room. Somewhere in him he knew he needed a proper shower, food, and the minor injuries he'd gotten from the guards cleaned up, but Jughead couldn't bring himself to worry about any of that in the moment.

Jughead knew his sister had experienced the same nightmare as him, and while she'd always proven to be stronger than he was, that didn't mean she didn't need to be taken care of too. He might not be in the mindset to take care of her in the same way JB always took care of him, but at least he could make sure Delilah gave JB the attention she deserved after this.

[dallasevans-gardner]

Of course I'm fine || 7/13/24, After Dinner

Even though dinner had already been made, eaten, and leftovers were put away and cleaned up, Dallas was still fidgeting around in the kitchen, much longer than he needed to considering he had already washed the counters, stove, and and the dishes from dinner. He had even dried them all by hand and put them away. It had reached the point he was literally organizing things precisely because it was simple, and didn't require him to truly focus, because it was simple and gave him something to do. This past week had gotten to the point where he was working, spending time at the hospital in rotation with the others, or keeping the house cleaned up and in order. Sleep was technically in there too, but Dally hadn't done much of that or had a sound sleep all week.

He let out a soft exhale a he finally made himself leave the kitchen and walked over to grab his phone from where it was sitting on the table. "I'm going to take a walk." Dally said, loud enough that he knew someone would hear him as he stuck his phone into his back pocket and slipped out of the door without waiting for a response. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair as he made his way down to the sidewalk and began his walk away from the house. He knew he could go to Robin and not fear judgement for needing the man, and he was sure Kat wouldn't think less of him either for needing the extra support considering the circumstances, but Dally was a big brother through and through and the one bad habit he had was ignoring his own needs when those around him were in need.

He knew Sam's subs and slaves were a mess, Hunter, their parents, brothers and sister, and any other person that Sam had managed to touch were all feeling some level of fear and uncertainty. Dallas was older than most of them, and that meant the side of them that placed the pressure on himself also told him he needed to keep it together. "Are you alright, Dally?" He jolted out of his thoughts as one of his and Robin's neighbors spoke to him, stopping as he recognized the elderly lady that lived a few houses down from him. "Oh, I'm fine, ma'am." Dally reassured her, offering her what he hoped would be a believable smile. "Just out for an evening stroll."

The submissive could see the woman giving him a glance over, almost as though she were debating on questioning if he were sincere or not before finally giving a simple nod of her head. "It is a fine evening for a stroll. Warm but not terribly warm." She confirmed, taking a step back to allow him by. "I won't keep you, but do remember you and Robin, and the new young woman I've seen, are always welcome to stop by." She told him. "I'll be sure to let them both know. Thank you." Dally said, managing another small smile before he continued on, glad that she hadn't kept him terribly long. He enjoyed speaking with her, but he also knew he wasn't entirely himself right now either.

Dally went around the block once and then a second time, and only when he realized it was starting to get late did he finally return home and let himself back in. He let the door close with a click, locking it behind him as he took his shoes off by the door and then headed into the bedroom to grab himself some pajamas and then into the bathroom to shower. The shower was also the one place that Dallas had been allowing himself the chance to crumble a bit under the pressure. The sound of the shower and the spray both masked the fact he'd been crying-- at least enough to pretend like he was fine. If he could convince himself that he was fine then maybe he'd actually be fine, or so that's what he kept telling himself even though he knew it wouldn't work. Denial of his feelings was Dally's strategy for the week, or at least it was the only strategy he'd allow himself to have.

[dancer-subclarington]

Para: You’re Keeping Me Down || Self

At Madeline’s suggestion, Kyla turns to music/lyrics to determine her feelings about her father’s accident.

TL;DR: She wonders whether his accident is a tragedy she should feel horrible about or if it was just karma that was a long time coming. Feat lyrics from Gravity and Broken Angel.

Kyla went to the auditorium, checking about a hundred times to make sure she was alone. She hooked up her phone to the sound system and let it play quietly, warming up her voice to whatever songs came on shuffle from her chosen playlist.

Madeline had asked Kyla to create something to help her try to figure out or communicate her feelings about her father. Because Kyla’s brain didn’t think in a very linear way, she thought maybe it could actually happen. She’d tried making a craft, but it had been ugly. So she’d covered in glitter, and then it was so ugly she had to throw it away. So now she was on to music.

Her feelings on her father were always complicated, but lately they’d been even messier. Ever since the Colonel had gotten injured and ended up paralyzed in a wheelchair, her feelings had been everywhere. Part of her felt like what happened was a tragedy, and that she should do all she could for her parents. She should go home to Texas, help take care of her father, and marry whatever military guy he currently had picked out for her. Leave her brothers, leave her friends, leave Gwen, leave her dreams and just do what she was supposed to do.

But luckily, the other part of her said that wasn’t going to happen on her watch. She had a decent life going on, and her dad didn’t really deserve her. But was it really about ‘deserve’ with family, or was it about doing what’s right? And what was right here anyway? Getting sucked back into her parents’ circle? Or deciding her dad had shit coming to him anyway? Was there a middle ground to be found? She had no idea.

So now here she was, ready to get some feelings out without using her own words to talk about them: her preferred coping method aside from doing nothing. She’d gone looking for a song to fit her situation. She hadn’t found a song about whether or not a bad person deserves pain. But she did find three songs that kind of captured some of her feelings about her dad in general. She was determined to not even poke at her issues with her mother right now.

She went back to her phone and pulled up a new song, one she’d never heard before searching the internet for songs about complicated father relationships. She’d never heard of Boyce Avenue, and it wasn’t something she’d usually bother trying to learn and sing. But the words worked, so she did her best.

🎵You showed him all the best of you

But I'm afraid your best

Wasn't good enough

And know he never wanted you

At least not the way

You wanted yourself to be loved

And you feel like you were a mistake

He’s not worth all those tears that won't go away🎵

🎵I wish you could see that

Still you try to impress him

But he never will listen🎵

🎵Oh broken angel

Were you sad when he crushed all your dreams

Oh broken angel

Inside you’re dying cause you cant believe🎵

🎵And now you've grown up with this notion That you were to blame

And you seem so strong sometimes

But I know that you still feel the same

As that little girl who shined like an angel

Even after his lazy heart

Put you through hell🎵

Kyla finished the song strong as stone, and though she had tears on her face, she didn’t much notice them. She went to play Gravity, singing along to the end of the song with Sara Bareilles. She usually would dance to it, but decided this time to let all of her feelings just live, instead of rushing to physically get them out. Kyla took a deep breath, knowing this would somehow be harder, as this wasn’t the first time she’d seen a relationship of hers in this particular song.

🎵 Set me free, leave me be

I don't want to fall another moment

Into your gravity

Here I am, and I stand

So tall, just the way l'm supposed to be

But you're on to me and all over me🎵

🎵I live here on my knees

As I try to make you see

That you're everything I think

I need here on the ground

But you're neither friend nor foe

Though I can't seem to let you go

The one thing that I still know

Is that you're keeping me down🎵

🎵You're keeping me down

You're on to me, on to me, and all over🎵

🎵Something always brings me back to you

It never takes too long🎵

She was fine. She was fine singing. She was fine singing until the end. The end of the song, with its stupid fragility, was what got her. She disconnected her phone and fled to the dance studio, choreographing a group dance to Gravity so that the pain wouldn’t go to waste.

[highpony-betty]

[Backdated a year ago. Here for my own reference]

F2F: The Unknown In The Known

Betty: Morning, Manny.

Manny: This one’s all you, Cooper.

Betty: And yet I don’t like the sound of that

Manny: Solerno is back.

Betty: Call him by his moniker

Manny: It’s hard to be scared of Mr Nice Guy

Betty: Exactly. Bad guys don’t deserve cool nicknames.

Manny: Whatever you call him, he has returned and is overachieving

Betty: He’s in jail.

Manny: His apprentice, then.

Betty: Or the real guy is still out there and Solerno is the fall guy. Two this time?

Manny: Yes

Betty: I wrote my prediction of that in a report a week ago. I told them he’d go after a pair next, and to put their protection towards potential victims who came with a partner. A sibling, boyfriends, teammates. *sighs* Who’d he get this time?

Manny: Kaylee and Ri-

Betty: The Pact sisters. Why do we do reports if they won’t do what we say?

Manny: I’ve told you before that you’re a field agent. If you want someone to listen, become an analyst.

Betty: I do both, I’m two hires for the price of one. Okay *points a remote at the screen* Kaylee was 19 and had custody of her 16 year old sister, Riley. They were on the list of suspects because of vicinity and social media profile types.

Manny: And your gut

Betty: Yes, but that’s tacky.

Manny: Wanna guess who Riley had as a science teacher?

Betty: Mr. Liam Syng?

Manny: That’s the one.

Betty: I didn’t pick up anything in his interview

Manny: Best not to bring him in again. He’s too hot right now.

Betty: Well what if he got a new student?

Manny: You want to go undercover as a high schooler?

Betty: Not me, you idiot. We’ve gotta have some informant or intern or whatever who can do what I did before I was an agent.

Manny: Aniyah. She’s on assignment. If not you, we’re stuck with Chris.

Betty: His immaturity would help sell it but he won’t be able to help standing out. What about Jenna?

Manny: She’s pretty green.

Betty: We could talk her through it.

Manny: Or focus on a different piece of the puzzle. Riley and the last victim Hanah went to the same school- it’s not a surprise that they had the same teacher.

Betty: Got any other leads?

Manny: Possibly. Hear me out.

Betty: *raises brows*

Manny: I got cell phone records. Hanah and Kaylee’s cell phones were both at a bar on Jacob Street. Different months.

Betty: So they had fake IDs.

Manny: Not that I can find. What I did figure out is that Kaylee went on a Tuesday night and Hanah went on a Thursday night. Karaoke nights. The bar is open to anyone 16 and up.

Betty: So this guy is trolling karaoke night?

Manny: Could be another thing that’s just a likely story because they live in the same area.

Betty: Their social media showed they both liked performing. What about the girl before Hanah? The one done by the local cops..Natalie? And before her was Julia?

Manny: We don’t have clearance to investigate-

Betty: It’s our case now.

Manny: Our case was Solerno. He’s in jail.

Betty: Oh who cares?

Manny: Im paid to care.

Betty: Im not. *sits at a computer* Your code isn’t working.

Manny: Why do you know-

Betty: What’s the code this thing is looking for?

Manny: Do you want to get fired?

Betty: I wouldn’t get fired. *rolls eyes* I’ll do it myself then.

Manny: You can’t build a profile from scratch off of nothing.

Betty: Take this as a sign that you totally need a young partner like me. I don’t have to build a profile off of nothing. She’s a teenager, she has profiles online for anyone to see.

Manny: How will you know their last names?

Betty: *typing* I remember things. Julia Haley and Natalie Kirsten. They both had last names that are typically first names, just like Hanah Jordan. It’s probably why the Pact sisters weren’t seen as a valid next target. He strayed from his pattern.

Manny: Unless it wasn’t a pattern.

Betty: Julia auditioned for a singing competition. *plays video* She’s good, too. Natalie played violin and was starting the guitar. Does the bar the other two were at have open mic nights?

Manny: Hang on. *types* Yes, every other Wednesday. But Natalie and Julia didn’t go to the high school that the other three went to.

Betty: The only things they all have in common is sex, age range, slim body type, and that they’re musically inclined. It’s not enough to predict the next target.

Manny: You predicted the Pacts.

Betty: My list had 31 people on it.

Manny: Then do that again.

Betty: He’s changed his style. Security footage?

Manny: Taken out with a laser pointer. Same as Natalie, Julia, and Hanah.

Betty: Calling card?

Manny: Bows around their necks. The first two had one kind, the third had something else, and these last two had something else.

Betty: Physical evidence?

Manny: Partial print on Kaylee’s clothing.

Betty: It’s on purpose. Next he’ll leave something. Something of more substance.

Manny: But still not completely useful. Like a hair without a rootball.

Betty: Can we find out if the first two went to that bar?

Manny: They went to a different bar, but it’s the same concept.

Betty: Distance from Julia and Natalie’s school to Hanah and Riley’s school?

Manny: *clicking keys* 7.7 miles.

Betty: I think the key lies with Hanah. The first two were the same, the last two were the same. Hanah was a transition. His next move is either to continue with what he did with the Pacts since its what the transition led to, or he’ll transition again. What evidence is there that this is the real guy? It could be a copy cat. Is it just the ribbon and random adoration for thin musical babes?

Manny: The original Mr. Nice Guy that you bested is in jail. But I was never fully convinced he was the real culprit. Involved, sure. He led the first two to their deaths. But the killings continued, with the same specs. He wants us to know we got it wrong.

Betty: I still think this guy is not unlike the guy in jail. Jail guy was the real guy’s mask. Not exactly projected out there, but just hidden enough to make us feel like he was the real thing. But the one thing this guy has is a need for attention. If he has nothing to do with the fall guy, he doesn’t get attention.

Manny: Possibly. I propose we change his name though. Ribbon Bro, maybe.

Betty: Hmm..moniker accepted.

Brian: Catch me up.

Manny: Mr Nice Guy is the dude in jail. The real killer is now Ribbon Bro.

Brian: Good to know.

Manny: Cooper’s going undercover.

Betty: No Im not.

Manny: Not at the high school. At a karaoke bar. Specifically, one that is within a few miles of the one Hanah and Kaylee went to. He’ll either repeat the 7.7, double it, or cut it in half. Im going with the latter.

Betty: So you’d like me to make a night of singing a song and getting hunted?

Manny: Sounds on par for your work. He’ll stake you out first anyway.

Betty: There’s no evidence of that.

Manny: The girls didn’t have serious physical harm, nor were they drugged. They willingly approached him.

Betty: That just means he wasn’t outwardly a douche.

Manny: He’s calculated. He won’t just attack.

Brian: That may be true back when he had an accomplice. Now his best chance at success is to strike outright.

Betty: Did the Pacts die in an alley like the others?

Manny: Found in an alley but killed elsewhere.

Betty: And the methods are all different right?

Manny: Julia’s head was smashed against a brick wall, Natalie was strangled, Hanah was stabbed, the Pacts were shot.

Betty: So the Pacts were a single accomplishment.

Manny: What method is next?

Brian: Electrocution, poison. Possibly a whipping.

Manny: Drowning is possible too.

Betty: Then you go undercover.

Manny: It’s not my turn.

Betty: I went under last.

Manny: For like ten minutes.

Betty: I meant the trafficking one.

Manny: Okay; thirty minutes.

Betty: This would be a song and maybe a conversation.

Manny: Im not a girl.

Betty: Im not thin.

Manny: Thin enough.

Brian: Cooper has tits.

Manny: But she’s still thin. Some kind of fancy bra is the answer, Im sure.

Betty: We don’t know how the actual hunting goes down. He could find them at the bar then check them out online then intercept them. Or he could have lured them somewhere in their typical routes so that it looks like he intercepted them. He could have talked to them, bought them a drink, or maybe he kept his distance. There’s no information to rely on, we have no leg up. Those aren’t good undercover circumstances. So. Im thinking I’ll pass on the death sentence, thanks.

Manny: If we don’t feed him a victim, he’ll pick one himself. We can’t protect someone if we don’t know they’re the target.

Betty: Then we need more information before we go in.

Manny: You were mad that no one acted on your hunch.

Betty: Right; that was when I had a hunch. If he’s continuing his current deal, we have no idea what he’ll be doing. And if he does another transition, we’ll be even more blind.

Brian: You figured out his transition last time. He went from one victim to two. If he doesn’t continue-

Betty: Exactly. Two victims in this one move. So the last two victims in his spree were the same, but they only counted as one. He’ll do two at least one more time.

Brian: Sibling again?

Betty: No idea. Some kind of duo, but I don’t know what relation they’ll have.

Brian: Pact is a weird last name.

Betty: Looking at last name patterns, his first three had the pattern in common: last names that are first names. Assuming he does three again, one of the next duo of victims will have something in common with Pact. And the other one won’t.

Brian: But he moved from one vic to two. He could go from a group of three last names to a group of four.

Betty: True. *sighs* Unhelpful.

Brian: Pact is a word. The next could have a last name that’s a noun. Look up last names- something like alliance or promise or oath.

Manny: Elias Promise.

Betty: A guy?

Manny: Yeah, but he has a niece. Not the right age though.

Brian: What’s the age?

Manny: Emma Promise, age twelve. She goes to private school. Plays softball.

Brian: Any other female family?

Manny: Unmarried, only sibling is a brother- Emma’s father.

Brian: Find synonyms then.

Betty: Swear, agree, deal.

Manny: Brianna Dealy, age 19.

Betty: Part of a duo?

Manny: Scrolling.

Betty: I’ll check Insta.

Manny: She plays piano. Ballroom dancing.

Betty: Cheerleader. A flier- her base is a girl. Search Karina Montes.

Manny: Also age 19. She auditioned for the school musical and got a callback. Huntington School of the Arts.

Betty: Is she a soprano or alto?

Manny: No idea.

Betty: Find a clip of her singing. A picture of sheet music; anything.

Manny: Midrange notes.

Betty: Mezzo. Probably the alto lead. What show are they doing?

Manny: It doesnt say

Betty: Find out who the director is, see if its on their social. The soprano lead would make them a duo.

Manny: But she’s not the one with the right last name.

Betty: Right, right. Okay. Are there any more Dealy’s out there who fit?

Manny: Not local. We got the case when it crossed state lines, but it’s still been within a small radius.

Brian: Manny, get me the PD who the case originated with. See what he has to say. And ask if there’s a girl on the team to talk to.

Betty: I’m going down to the cave. See if they’re playing around with this one like we are.

Brian: There’s no code.

Betty: Not an alpha-numeric one, anyway.

Manny: So what? He’s communicating through colored ribbons?

Betty: Hell if I know. This is buzzing around in my head, I have to do something.

Brian: Im surprised you’re not going to convince-

Betty: Frazier won’t listen to me. He won’t alert Brianna. You’ll be doing the convincing.

Manny: Brianna has a brother.

Betty: Then I’m going to talk to him.

Brian: Take someone with you.

Manny: Not Joshua

Betty: Well Im not taking Chris

Manny: The brother is 13. Chris is basically his equal.

Betty: Then you go with him.

Manny: I do computers, not people

Brian: I always suspected you do computers.

Manny: So not the time.

Betty: At least he’s getting some.

Manny: Thanks, partner.

Betty: *two finger salute as she leaves*

[coldranger]

Am I late to the hugfest? Ah well, not like it would matter much to Smitten

[paracosmicessence]

twitter makes me feel like i need to fight for my life so that i can get people to see my art but tumblr feels safe enough where i can take a step back and breathe and i don’t have to worry about numbers bc i wanna admire all the cool art and sillies here and not feel negative emotions the entire time i’m on the app

[wallpapedits-vvc]

Matching wallpapers #180

Like/reblog if you save ✨

None of this wallpapers/pictures belongs to me, I just do the matching.

[unpersoniverse]

modern! clicks Korra chilling in a park

[2snuffseb]

collar around my neck but it’s a rope and you are shoving your hands down my throat making me throw up and keep beating the shit out of me making me move around and tighten the rope, slowly choking myself to death??

[neuroticboyfriend]

some disabled & neurodivergent side of tumblr safety & etiquette:

dont: dump negativity on positivity posts. if you dont relate to a post, it's either not aimed at you, or you're not ready for its message (and thats ok!)

do: make your own posts expressing how you feel; your feelings still matter and your blog is just the place to express them.

dont: speak over people with different experiences than yours, or speak on things you don't know about.

do: have an open mind and educate yourself on things you don't know much about - uplift the voices of people with direct experience.

dont: send unprompted vent or advice asks to blogs that dont have that as a stated purpose.

do: check out a blog to see if they take vent/advice asks; if you dont see anything, ask if you can vent/seek advice first - or add a disclaimer at the start of your asks, with TW.

dont: engage with triggering content. dont post your triggers publicly either, my lord.

do: engage with content that helps you express, process, and cope with your health. take breaks when you need them, too.

dont: treat bloggers like celebrities or like they owe you a response.

do: treat bloggers like regular people; respect boundaries.

dont: demonize ANY condition. including paraphilic disorders, sexual/moral OCD, personality disorders, addiction, or factitious disorders

remember: we're all dealing with our own stuff, and we're all in this together. if anyone acts as if this isnt true, they're probably not in a good place themself.

(feel free to add on!)

[thejugheadjones]

Late Night Musings || 11/18/23, early morning, maybe 2:30am

Jughead's head jolted up from where it had been resting against his knees, having dozed off at some point. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, nor did he even remember falling asleep given just how little he had been sleeping since they'd gotten here. The first thing he noticed was how oddly quiet it was in the auction house and that told him it had to be late. He slowly pushed himself off the floor of the cell, wincing a bit as his body protested the movement. He wasn't sure if it was from the position he'd been in or the intense level of physical activity that he'd been made to do, or both. Jughead, while not out of shape, was definitely not one that actively worked out regularly either, but he found himself thinking he needed to start once this was all said and done.

He slowly made his way over toward the pathetic excuse for beds that had been given to them for the duration of their stay here. As much as the cots might suck though, Jughead knew it was still better than sleeping directly on the floor-- if only barely. He had chosen to stay against the front of their cell until the guards had all seemed to stop hovering, prepared to direct any attention directed at his cellmates toward himself. He might not know his cellmates very well, or at all actually, but he'd seen enough to know they all had some previous connection between them and being the odd one out, he felt it was only fair he do what he could to keep them safe and together as much as he could through this. Which was why Jughead was fine with biting the bullet if he needed to. Yes, he knew it didn't mean the others wouldn't still end up targeted, but other than his sister being locked away in a different cell, Jughead didn't have anything to actually lose by allowing himself to be the scapegoat and if he could keep them safe even for a bit then he'd do it.

He slowly lowered himself onto his cot, rolling onto his side and facing the wall behind him as he shifted a bit in order to try and get comfortable. He'd survived day one and day two, and he just had to get through day three and then their final and even shortened day. He knew there was meant to be some sort learning experience here and how they'd all be stronger for it, more aware of their future if they didn't change, and blah blah blah. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, closing his eyes in an attempt to maybe get a bit more sleep, but at the same time Jughead knew sleep had been scarce since they'd arrived and he'd been lucky to sleep even a couple of hours each night. The fact he'd dozed off already would most likely be all he slept tonight, unless he managed to doze again at some point.

The switch opened his eyes again and stared silently at the wall in front of him, his mind moving a mile a minute as he thought about what was in store for them next-- mock auctions. They were going to be stood up and treated like they were nothing more than a piece of property. Which, he supposed, was the point since ending up here essentially lead to that outcome. An outcome that Jughead silently feared would become a reality for him. Realistically, he knew he still had time and, even more so, he didn't doubt for a moment that JB wouldn't consider claiming him just to keep him from ending up here if he didn't find someone to claim on his own, or to be claimed by if he ever gave into his submissive side. Maybe it was the Jones family stubbornness or simply Jughead's pride, but he didn't want to resort to asking his twin sister to claim him just to avoid being turned into a slave, even if he knew it wouldn't be the end of the world if he were claimed by her.

Jughead tucked one of his arms beneath his head, the other resting in front of him by his chest as he stared straight ahead, swallowing thickly as his mind started down the path of this could be you in just a few short years. Which, Jughead knew, was a very real possibility. It was also the reason Jughead had decided to travel rather than follow JB and enrolling when she did. He wanted the chance to travel... see the world... just in case it was his only chance to actually do it. He'd known JB would find a submissive to claim and she'd be fine. She knew what she wanted and she would take it-- as he'd picked up on with how she spoke about Delilah. JB had not only found herself a submissive, but she'd found someone that she trusted enough to let in to some extent.

He wasn't to that point, nor was he sure he'd ever get to that point. He kept everyone at a distance with his snark and sarcasm because it was easier than allowing people in and giving them the chance to hurt him. He'd been hurt by the person who had given birth to him and his sister, easily left behind each and every time she decided to come back and then leave them behind again and again. It hadn't taken Jughead long to realize his mother-- his egg donor didn't actually love them. She didn't love him and JB and she certainly didn't love their father and only wanted something to do with them when it was convenient for her. Jughead didn't want a life like that, and the best way to avoid it was to keep everyone at a distance.

Unfortunately, that also meant the alternative was this, for real, and he knew it would end up much worse than it was now. He swallowed thickly, feeling a sense of anxiety and fear building in his chest. It wasn't often that Jughead felt fear. He was bold, confident, brave, and he had no trouble when it came to holding his own and going head to head with someone regardless of their status. If he were being honest, prior to this entire field trip, Jug couldn't even begin to guess the last time he had felt fear.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breath slowly and deeply as he pushed through the feeling of panic he could feel was building. This wasn't the time and place to end up with a panic attack over 'what ifs'

I still have plenty of time. This isn't my future yet. I might feel as though I'm a lost cause but, technically, I'm not a slave yet. I can still find a way to avoid this. I can still find a claim and graduate by the time I turn thirty.

He kept repeating his little mantra in his head. The reminder that as terrified as he was of this happening... it wasn't happening yet. He still had time and he still had the chance to change it.

[dallasevans-gardner]

Self Para: A Quiet Night, 4-26-24

Dally's day was, more or less, a normal work day. He'd woken up when he heard Robin moving around in the early hours and rather than go back to sleep he'd chosen to get up and hop in the shower before he started getting ready for work. He'd gotten dressed for the day and then made the bed and cleaned things up in the bedroom, before going out to the kitchen before making himself a cup of coffee and some light breakfast. When he got to work, he spoke with his manager and offered to stay late if they needed an extra pair of hands. It didn't surprise Dallas when he took the submissive up on it, but did bring up if it would be a problem with his Dom. It was only when Dallas reassured him that it wouldn't be an issue and Dallas had already mentioned it to him that he allowed the matter to drop.

It was only as Dallas reached ten hours that his boss actually told him to go home because it was starting to get late, and he had no desire to risk the wrath of Robin for overworking the submissive-- even if Dallas had volunteered the hours and not actually given a time to leave. It was a fair concern and one that Dally didn't blame him for worrying about. Dally was well aware that if he willingly overworked himself too much that Robin would not approve either. He was potentially pushing it working a ten hour day, but that he could justify as a one-time thing and he hadn't needed to rush home to make dinner for the two of them.

He'd finished up the job he was doing, cleaned up, and then clocked out, saying goodnight and that he'd see them on Sunday, since he had Saturday off and that had been another reason he'd agreed to work late Friday. He went home and let himself inside, locking the door behind him as he registered just how quiet it was inside. He took his shoes off by the door and made short work of running through the shower again even though he'd showered that morning. He needed to shower after work because he normally came home with oil, grease, and dirt from work.

Once he'd showered, he wandered into the kitchen to make himself something for dinner. He knew it'd be easy to just skip dinner entirely, but he also knew that wasn't actually an option unless he wasn't feeling well and even then soup was normally light enough for him to manage. He settled on a sandwich, tossing some sliced veggies with it and even poured himself a glass of milk so it seemed like a well-rounded meal even if it were a simple meal.

When he finished eating his dinner, Dallas made short work of cleaning the dishes from dinner and cleaning up the kitchen a little bit. He'd take care of the thorough cleaning tomorrow on his day off, like he normally did when he actually had the time to do it. He could actually start the laundry tonight though and decided that he'd do just that as he went into the bedroom and grabbed the basket. He did a quick scan around the room and in the bathroom to make sure there was nothing that got left behind and then headed into the laundry room to start the laundry. It'd take two loads to wash, but he had all night to get it done, and after starting the first load and leaving the basket on the ground, Dallas returned to to the living room where he settled on the couch and turned on the television for something to watch and even distract himself from how seemingly quiet the house felt.

Between mindless television and laundry, which he did end up bringing into the living room once it was done so he could dump it onto the couch beside him to fold, the evening seemed to be going well enough, and he was fine just like he'd promised he would be. He was managing, and that was the important thing.

He then carried the basket into the bedroom and made short of putting their laundry away. Once he was done, he glanced at the time and saw it was getting late, just after midnight now between getting home, showering, dinner, and then laundry.

He figured sleep was probably a good idea as he walked through the house again to double-check everything was picked up. He also double-checked that the door was locked and then turned the television off and headed back to the bedroom, and climbed into bed on his side. Dally had made the joke about taking over the entire bed since it was his bed while Robin was gone, but after a few minutes, he'd shifted over so he was laying on Robin's side of the bed, and while it wasn't the same the subtle and familiar scent of his Dominant was comforting as the exhaustion from his long day finally seemed to catch up with him and he fell asleep curled up against Robin's pillow.

[angelicbook]

Since I’m back, I’ve decided to kick my profile back into gear by doing a . . 𝑹𝑬𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑮 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 !

That’s right, hun. Simply reblog this post with 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑭/𝑶, and I’ll assign them a cat image from 𝑴𝒀 𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻 !

𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆’𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 !

if you want a specific image (angry, excited, etc), just tell me & I’ll make sure you get exactly what you wanted, sweetheart!

𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑭𝑼𝑵 & 𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑹𝑬𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑮 ! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[writingsinashes]

Multi-Muse

Novella || Multi-Para || Canon & OC || Multi-Verse || Multi-Ship

30 || CST || NSFW

Muses and plots that span various media, such as films, literature, video games, mythology, and with the power of imagination.

With a touch of canon and a sprinkle of OCs, this blog might have just what you've been looking for!

Write with someone who's been in the RPC for about 17 years without the drama of the past 17 years! 😂

{Memes} {Rules} {Muses}

－ Ｐｅｎｎｅｄ ｂｙ Ｓａｈ． ᴰᶦˢᶜᵒʳᵈ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗ.

ᴾʳᵒᵐᵒ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @etherealxmuses ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᴶᵃˢᵐᵃⁿᵈᵉʳ

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