#but them constantly stalking and talking about me for living my life is fine i guess

[thealternateuniverse]

How did you handle it?

1st part here

A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭

Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.

Warning/s: Read at your own risk

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

Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.

She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.

Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.

"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.

"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.

"Shut up!" She took her phone.

KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.

"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.

"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.

"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.

These two are as mischievous as ever.

Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.

"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.

"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"

She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.

"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.

Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.

"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.

"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."

Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.

"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.

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

Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.

"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.

"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.

"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.

"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.

Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce

In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.

While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.

Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.

The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.

Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"

KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."

Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."

The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.

KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."

KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.

The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.

"That's what we're talking about."

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

Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.

Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.

Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.

In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.

"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.

"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.

"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.

Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.

"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.

"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.

Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.

Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.

-------

"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."

As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.

Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.

Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.

"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.

Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.

"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.

"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"

"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.

"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."

Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.

"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.

Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.

"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.

They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.

Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.

They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.

"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.

Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.

"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.

"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.

"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.

"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.

"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.

"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.

Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------

[mrsaltieri-real]

Good Boy, Meeks (Mickey Altieri X Randy Meeks)

Words: 2.8k

Warning/s: language, smut, slight dom/sub dynamic, handjobs, blowjob, teasing, cum eating, cum play, filming/sex tape, hair pulling, Randy’s a nervous wreck, Mickey’s a teasing ass, implied stalking, frenemies to fuck buddies.

A/N: SO this is my first fic that is two canon characters. No reader insert, no OC. Just Mickey and Randy. The Film Bro’s™️. This was ridiculously fun to write, I’m definitely going to do stuff like this more often. I love them so much. Thank you @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing! You’re such a massive help dude!

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Mickey had always found Randy sweet.

In a lot of ways, they were the same. Film geeks with an unfiltered passion for cinema and the art surrounding it, constantly looking for a deeper meaning, both there and in real life. Then again, they were more different than similar.

Randy was a small town boy still reeling from the series of murders that rocked him a year back. He never showed it, but he lived in a constant state of unease, glancing over his shoulder and never letting anybody but Sidney in. Even then, he couldn’t talk to her about this stuff. She was healing, getting better. He was happy for her, but when she began dating Derek, he realized that he truly was all alone.

Mickey, on the other hand, was from the city. Eager, outgoing, confident. He wasn’t scared about people finding him arrogant or full of himself, he lived his life with no regrets. He was being bankrolled through college by Billy Loomis’ mother to help her finish the job he and Stu Macher couldn’t. Mickey was violent, in more ways than the obvious. His ambition made him all the more magnetic, especially to Randy.

They had a fun frenemy vibe going for a while, though they both knew it was more affectionate than anything. Mickey liked Randy, he thought he was simply adorable. Randy liked Mickey, he enjoyed arguing with him even though most of the time he knew he was just saying opposing views on cinema to get a rise out of him, like when he’d sat in front of him and blatantly said that Superman 2 was better than Superman 1. Randy could see the amusement in his eyes as he argued back, but decided to roll with it.

Anything to stretch out the conversation.

Randy wasn’t gay. He knew he wasn’t gay, he’d been in love with Sidney since before he even knew what love was. But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d glance over at Mickey in class or in the cafeteria, watch his head tip back as he laughed, the dimples in his cheeks. His eyes would drift to his strong, muscular arms, watch his huge hands run through his hair or drum against his thigh, and it was almost impossible to look away.

But no, he wasn’t gay, he wasn’t bi, he was straight. Right?

“Randy!” Fingers snapped in front of Randy’s face, and he blinked, shaking his head before his blue eyes tentatively met light brown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine, why?” Randy cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat and looking down at his paper. He and Mickey had been paired for a project on cinematography in horror, and it bugged Randy that the moment their names were spoken out one after the other by their professor, he’d felt his heart flutter a little.

“Well, I was talking to you and you were just… Staring at me.” Mickey’s tone was light, almost playful. He didn’t look away from Randy, his grin spreading wider as he saw the rush of colour flood to the boy's cheeks. How cute is that?

“Fuck off, Mickey, no I wasn’t.” Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “Stop fucking around, what were you saying?”

“C’mon, Meeks! Tell me what you were thinking about.” Mickey leaned forward in his own seat, his hand reaching out and playfully pushing Randy’s shoulder. Randy swatted at his hand, only making Mickey chuckle and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay!” He shook his head, still smiling as he grabbed his camera from his desk, flipping the small flap open and holding it up. “Don’t wanna tell me? Tell the camera.”

“Mickey, I swear to God, fuck off.” Randy held up his hand, turning his head to the side and burying his face into his shoulder. “You’re such an ass, dude.”

“Aw, I know.” Mickey didn’t drop the camera. His eyes were fixed on Randy through the tiny screen, his head tilting just slightly to the side. His smile had changed into a somewhat affectionate half smile, watching as Randy peeked up at him. “What?”

“You like me, don’t you?”

The question took him by such surprise, Randy let out a laugh that was a little too loud, a roll of his eyes that was a little too dramatic and stood to his feet, pushing the chair back a little too hard. Mickey watched the ordeal with an amused expression and a cocked brow, the camera still focused on Randy, “I think you’re a dick.”

“And I think that you think I’m blind and stupid.” Mickey retorted, finally looking up from the small screen, his eyes settling and Randy’s awkward stance. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t do that.”

Randy looked away, as he says, “I don’t like you. Not like that.”

Mickey presses, “Like what?”

“Like- Oh, shut up.” Randy muttered, beginning to walk toward Mickey’s bathroom.

Before he could get past him, Mickey’s large hand that Randy had so often admired shot out, wrapping around his forearm easily and holding him next to him.

“Don’t make it weird, Meeks. We can fuck if that’s what you want.”

Mickey said it so matter-of-factly it took Randy a little by surprise, his eyes shooting to Mickey, who still gripped the camera in his other hand, the band around his wrist and his arm resting beside him.

“But you’re not…” Randy’s voice trailed off and Mickey let out another laugh.

There is that infuriatingly dazzling smile as he asked, “I’m not what? Gay?”

Randy stumbles over his words as he responds, “I mean… Yeah. I’ve seen you with girls and stuff.”

“Yeah, so? What, you're a film major and think people can’t branch out a little?”

Randy frowned, this isn’t as simple as making a movie in a different genre, at least not to Randy. His eyes darting from Mickey’s hand wrapped around his arm and to his face. He couldn’t deny, when Mickey touched him, he felt an uncomfortably strong wave of arousal flow through his body and stab him straight in the stomach.

Fuck, he hated that Mickey made him feel this way. Fucking Mickey Altieri of all people. It was no surprise really, though. Randy had seen first hand, he could pretty much fuck anybody he wanted. He was outrageously attractive, magnetic and just downright charming. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to him, and had been for a pathetic amount of time. And now, here he was, telling him he wanted him.

Randy didn’t move, caught in a hesitating limbo, so Mickey helped him, tugging on his arm and pulling him in front of him.

He had no idea what he was doing. He’d thought about this, this moment more times than he cared to admit whilst he was fisting his cock in the shower, thinking of Mickey. His hands, his arms, his smile, his cock, and more often than not, his lips. He was always filled with guilt after, wondering how Mickey would feel if he knew that Randy touched himself to thoughts of him on his knees with Mickey in his mouth.

This was fucking unbearable.

Mickey’s brown eyes were fixed on Randy’s torn expression, watching the vast array of emotions pass over his face. Suddenly, it wasn’t so amusing.

“Nod if you want me.” Mickey said, his voice unnaturally soft and tender.

Randy’s final thought was simple.

Fuck it.

He nodded his head, eyes, watching as Mickey released his arm and gently palmed over himself. Randy hadn’t noticed before that he was already half hard. Did he know? This entire time that Randy wanted him this much? Did he want it as long as he did, too?

Mickey didn’t speak, but he stood to his feet, placing the still rolling camera down on his desk, the lenses facing them, a light smile on his lips as he leaned forward, his hand moving from his own aching bulge in favour of Randy’s. The two of them were wearing sweatpants, and Mickey smiled in satisfaction at how fucking hard Randy was for him. He could feel his heat, feel the throbbing before he even made contact.

Mickey’s other hand cradled Randy’s flushed cheek, finding it sweet how panicked Randy looked, as if he was afraid this was all some big joke to his expense. But this wasn’t, Mickey wanted Randy, had done since the first day the little geek challenged him in film class.

Randy found that focusing on the beauty spot just beside Mickey’s eyes calmed him down slightly, humanizing the other boy a little more.

Mickey wasn’t going to kiss Randy first, however. He felt like that was something Randy had to do, and it didn’t take him anywhere near as long as he expected.

The minute Mickey’s head ghosted over him, Randy bit the bullet, closing the space and pressing his lips against Mickey’s with a passion that took Mickey by surprise. Randy let out a shaking moan into his mouth, pushing himself greedily against Mickey’s hand in desperate need for friction, to which the other boy eagerly obliged, his hand moving to frail his fingers down Randy’s happy trail and slipping smoothly into Randy’s sweats and boxers, eagerly kissing him back as he did. Mickey tasted like mint, his lips were unbearably soft and something about them seemed like home, the rough feeling of Mickey’s stubble scratched against Randy’s face, so satisfying and just how he dreamed it would.

The moment Randy felt Mickey’s well worked hand wrap around his cock, he was worried he was going to cum then and there. His hips thrust a little as he gasped into Mickey’s mouth, feeling him smile against him as he did. Randy’s hands were fast and eager, but he was stopped sharply by Mickey, who pulled back, shaking his head.

“Oh, God I- I’m sorry, fuck, I-“

Randy began rambling, his face flushing a deep red. Mickey simply rolled his eyes, bending down to pull Randy’s sweats and boxers down before pulling his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “Shut up, I thought it would be easier this way, no?”

This was the first time Randy had seen Mickey shirtless. He momentarily marvelled at the hairs on his chest, his toned stomach, and swallowed thickly.

Before Randy could reply, Mickey kissed him, deeper and with more vigour than last time. Randy’s leaking cock pressed between both of their stomachs. Mickey’s hands gripped Randy’s hips, pulling him even closer to him and forcing him to grind against him before he pressed him firmly up against the wall, his lips beginning to drift from Randy’s lips, to his jaw, to his throat.

“F-fuck.” Randy’s moan was unsteady, his hands unconsciously moving to knot in his thick dark hair, his hips beginning to grind against him by themselves. The friction felt incredible, but what felt even better was Mickey’s hand beginning to slowly pump Randy’s cock as he kissed his neck, the sensation making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Mickey used Randy’s pre-cum as lube as he allowed the boy to messily thrust against his hand, his simpering whimpers and moans fucking music to his ears.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you like this, Meeks.” Mickey breathed into Randy’s ear, twisting his hand expertly and relishing in the gentle whines flooding out from Randy’s lips. “A leaking fucking mess just for me.”

“Just for you.” Randy echoed Mickey’s words, his hands gripping his hair even tighter as his pace began to steadily increase.

The feeling of his rough hand gliding up and down his shaft, his messy cock aching and throbbing, it was nothing like he’d had before. His first and only time with Karen Kolcheck back in Woodsboro seemed pretty much laughable compared to how Mickey was making him feel right now with just his hand. Randy knew he was close, his balls were aching, and he could feel himself ready to unload all over Mickey’s stomach, but he didn’t want to. He knew that once he did, it would be over.

Fuck, he didn’t want this to be over.

“You gonna cum for me, Randy?” Mickey asked. Randy let out a soft whine, flinching in effort to avoid doing just that.

“N-no.” He groaned out, the grip on Mickey’s hair tightening.

Mickey let out a breathy laugh, his hand slowing to a gentle pump. “Why not?” He asked.

Randy didn’t answer, his head falling forward, so his forehead pressed against Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey wasn’t having that. He pulled his hand away from Randy’s sloppy cock, knocking his arms out of the way so he could pull Randy’s head back before gripping his chin between his long fingers.

“Why not?” He asked again, his tone a little harder.

“Because I don’t want it to be done.” Randy blurted out. He felt Mickey cock twitch against his from the confines of his sweats and briefs and felt an overwhelming desire to touch him too. Mickey looked at the hungry expression on Randy’s face and smiled affectionately, releasing Randy’s jaw and sliding his hand into his hair.

“Okay, on your knees then.”

Before the words were completely out of Mickey’s mouth, Randy was on his knees, pulling down Mickey’s remaining clothes.

Randy had only seen his own dick and dicks in porn. No pornstar cock would ever compare to Mickey’s. The only word that came to mind was mouthwatering.

After Mickey spent a little time talking Randy through it, Randy took him greedily into his mouth, moaning at how delicious he tasted, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Fuckkkkk.” Mickey groaned, his head tipping back and one hand still resting on the top of his head. He glanced at the camera, picking it up and focusing it down on the adorable sight before him; Randy greedily sucking his cock as if his life fucking depended on it. Randy made a sound of disapproval at the sight of the camera, but Mickey shook his head. “Thought you might want to watch this back when you fuck yourself thinking about me.”

A brief thought of how the fuck does he know I do that? Crossed his mind for the briefest of moments before he forgot all about it, focusing on the feeling of Mickey’s thick, heavy cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head obediently, feeling Mickey begin to thrust harder, pushing his way down Randy’s throat.

“Yeah, good boy. Look up into the camera with my cock in your mouth, Meeks.” Mickey instructed, voice heavy and dripping with arousal. Randy did just that, feeling Mickey begin to twitch in his mouth as soon as he did. “Mm. You wanna get off?” He asked, smiling at Randy’s muffled yes. “Go on.”

Randy quickly took his own sensitive cock into his hand, realizing quickly his pre-cum had dropped onto Mickey’s hardwood floor. Mickey angled the camera, zooming in on the sight and watching it intently, his hips snapping against Randy’s face urgently.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Mickey grunted, halting his movement. Randy’s nose pressed against Mickey’s skin for a moment, beginning to splutter slightly as Mickey began to release hot ribbons of white down his throat, before pulling back to fill up Randy’s mouth.

The delicious taste, along with Mickey’s gorgeous expression, his head back and his chest heaving as he came, sent Randy into a convulsing mess, cumming all over his own hand, stomach and the ground beneath him. Mickey pulled out of his mouth quickly, relishing in the sound of Randy’s gasping moans as he finished.

It was silent between them for a moment, Randy trembling on his knees, not looking Mickey in the eyes. Mickey still had the camera rolling, looking fondly into the small window of it, before he glanced down at Randy pointedly.

“You made a mess, Meeks.”

Randy let out a sigh, relieved at the broken silence, before he asked, “What?”

Mickey nodded down beneath him at the cum staining the floor. Randy blushed, moving to shakily to stand up, only to be stopped by Mickey’s large, grounding hand.

“Clean it up.”

“I- I was going to. Was gonna get some paper towels and-“

“No, Randy.” Mickey cut him off, the cheeky smile back on his face as he knelt down in front of him. Mickey’s finger dipped into the impressive pool of white, before he raised it to his own mouth and licked it. Randy watched intently, his once softened cock twitching at the sight. Fuck.

“On your hands and knees-“ Mickey stopped, moving the camera and angling it down at the mess. “And clean. It. Up.”

Randy stared at Mickey for a moment, before nodding his head, and doing exactly what he was told.

He got on his hands and knees, dipping his head down, and began to lap up his own cum from the hardwood floor. Mickey watched through the camera, teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sight.

“Good boy, Meeks.”

[gvtted-ratz]

read all our tags/ratings. they are important and give you all u need to decide if you wanna actually read or not. do not like the tags/rating? do not read.

FEM ALIGNING/IDENTIFYING PPL (unless mutuals/friends) DNI WITH OUR MLM WORKS. fem ppl can still request tho. respect our wishes or get blocked. yes we do read/check everything. we tag appropriately/use tags that go with our posts.

want 2 request? find the rules: here!

want 2 see all the fics? find em: here!

Look Outside The Window

Jay Merrick/Skully x M!Reader

Last Edited: July 4, 2021 12:03 AM

TW: stalking, obsessive behavior

Requested: no

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: these used 2 be posted but i deleted them after some comments made me hate them. however, i found them again recently n may end up adding more. i also do not hate them anymore. tws will be in the notes before every chapter and some will be put in the additional tags. the character is also in the notes/summary before each chapter. (The 1st 4 r old n unedited)

You had needed an out. You needed to get away from home. Your parents did nothing but trap you there. You couldn’t make your own decisions or even buy anything with your own money without them talking you down or insulting you over it. They wanted you to live with them and go by their rules. They didn’t care about what you wanted in life and only saw you as their “little boy”. You weren’t a child anymore; you were a young adult. They were constantly trying to infantilize you and you hated it. You were a young adult and you needed to branch out, make mistakes, and move on. So that’s what you did. You left home after finding a house-sitting job.

The job would last a few months, which was odd to you. Why house sit for months on end? The owners didn’t tell you anything. You didn’t even call. You emailed them and they emailed you. Every interaction with the couple was through emails. Or at least, you think the person messaging you is in a relationship. It sounded that way. One part of the email said, “We’ll be leaving the house to you. My partner and I are going on vacation for a few months. You can watch and live in the house while there. Your pay will be sent to you in a check via mail. The groceries will be delivered to you once a week. May you watch it carefully.” The last part gave you a sense of foreboding, almost like you should be watching out for something out in the house deep in the woods.

When you had arrived at the house, you were pleasantly surprised to find it very tidy. Everything was spotless in the two-story home. It held four bedrooms and three bathrooms. There was a dining room, living room, family room, kitchen, foyer, dressing area, and a nook. Overall, a large house. Well, a large house for a simple couple. Perhaps the couple has quite a bit of money? Especially if they’re going on vacation for a few months and are paying you a large sum to simply watch the lonely house in the woods.

The first few days were fine. Nothing really happened other than the feeling of being watched. What creeped you out the most though was that you never heard any birds. It was always silent outside. Silent and still. There was barely any wind thanks to the dense forestry. Despite that, the feeling of being watched continued. Sometimes, though, you would hear gentle buzzing in your ears. It reminded you of bees but it sounded more like an old tape. Whenever you heard it, it seemed like static covered your eyesight. You could still see, but the static was like a film over your sight. Whenever you would look in the mirror, your eyes seemed to have a slight glaze over them. Of course, there wasn’t much you could do and no amount of searching the internet seemed to help.

By the second week, you were hearing birds. There was something… off about them. They didn’t sound lively. They sounded hollow. Almost like something was mimicking them. You would hear them next to whichever window you were closest to as well. It was like something was by the window, mimicking the birds only when you’re there. It didn’t happen all throughout the day either. It only happened when you weren’t doing something. If you were to turn off the television, ready to get started on a meal, the chirping and singing would start up. Because of how hollow and synthetic it sounded, shivers would run all over your body. It didn’t help that the static over your vision seemed to get slightly worse whenever it would happen; the buzzing in your ears also seemed to get louder. At night, however, there was no chirping or singing. The static seemed to have tripled at that point though and the buzzing was so loud that you could barely hear your heartbeat and breathing.

By the first month, you were looking outside constantly. The bird noises seemed to happen constantly by now and notes started to appear around your home. When you would try to sleep, the hollow tune of the birds would be there despite the fact that no birds were out. The buzzing was so loud that it was all you would hear. The static was so bad that it completely covered your sight; it was like looking at a static screen. The notes terrified you. There were never any footprints in the snow outside and you were the only one in the home. You believed, at first, that you were writing them. Maybe you had been half asleep and wrote them. But that changed when the notes didn’t match your handwriting and started to be… weird.

You look handsome today. One said. Do you like the birds? They don’t seem very lively though. Another read. I wish you would see me. You always know I’m there thanks to the static and buzzing. Maybe we’ll meet soon. More and more would come in. They were always placed where you’d see them. A window. The fridge. Even on the television. They were taped there, all signed with an S. One was even on your bedroom door. How did someone get in and out without leaving any footprints or any evidence behind? You didn’t know but it started to make you close every curtain and try to raise the volume of everything, trying so hard to drown out the unlively birds.

Today was just like the last few. The static over your vision makes it hard to see right with how thick it is. The buzzing in your ears is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the synthetic birds. You make breakfast for yourself, dressed in some simple sleepwear. The breakfast you make doesn’t take too long, just some scrambled eggs and toast with jam. You eat in silence; well, not entirely in silence thanks to the buzzing and birds. When you finish your breakfast, you wash the plate and other utensils you had used to make your meal. Once done, you decided to do some light stretching in the living room. There wasn’t much you could do in the home. Outside was too cold for you to explore the wilderness without sustaining frostbite.

All of the curtains were closed except for one. It was the closest to the television. You were going to close it before spotting the note taped on the box. You stare at the note before tearing it off the screen. It reads: Look Outside The Window . You pause, staring at the note. The buzzing slowly starts to get louder just as the static over your sight starts to worsen. The birds, however, stop chirping. There’s only the buzzing. Slowly, you look towards the window. Nothing. Nothing but still snow.

A small smile worms its way only your face, mocking. A small, forced chuckle leaves your lips before you turn around, ready to head back into the kitchen to make some tea to calm your beating heart. You freeze though when you see the figure standing in the doorway. The beige-orange coat covers most of their figure while the black-ish blue hood covers their face. They have on a pair of gloves, the same colour as their hood. Their pants are a simple pair of jeans while their shoes seem to be black combat boots. Seeing a figure in your home is terrifying, yes. It wouldn’t have been as scary if the figure didn’t have a mask on. The mask was an off-white-ish colour with black eyeholes, high black eyebrows, and a box shape for the mouth, somewhat resembling teeth.

You both stand there, no one moving. The buzzing is so loud now that you can barely hear your own heart and breathing. The static is so bad that you can barely see the figure clearly. “IT’s NiCe To FiNaLlY mEeT yOu, [Redacted],” They, or he, says. His voice sounded weird. It was like a mix of different pitches and he couldn’t decide which one was best and went with all of them. You didn’t think though, only acted. You quickly dropped the note and fled the living room. You could hear him following you as you ran for the back door. You slam into it, trying to unlock it. “YoU dOn’T wAnT tO gO oUtSiDe! It’S tOo CoLd FoR yOu. EsPeCiAlLy WiTh HoW yOu’Re DrEsSeD!” You don’t listen though, not even as he slowly approaches you. With a final turn of the knob, the door is flung open and you run out into the snow.

It’s cold and stings your feet. You run and run and run. You don’t once look back, too scared that he may be right there. You don’t hear him following you, but that’s due to the buzzing. It’s so loud now that it’s all you can hear. You’re basically running blind; the static is so thick that seeing your surroundings is almost impossible. You stumble around mostly, hands in front of you so you don’t run face-first into any trees.

You’re unsure of how long you have been running. All you know for sure is that you can’t see anything anymore, the buzzing is starting to give you a headache, you feel like you’re sweating buckets beside the fact that your legs, arms, fingers, and toes are going numb. It isn’t long before you collapse. You’re breathing heavily, panting in the snow. You can feel yourself shaking despite feeling so hot, so overheated. Your hair sticks to your forehead as you continue to sweat. You try to move, to drag yourself somewhere but your body refuses. You lay there, your eyes open despite them wanting to close. The static is still strong, just like the buzzing. They scream danger but your body refuses to listen.

As more time passes, you feel yourself slowly going numb, your eyes fluttering every now and then, trying to close. The static slowly starts to fade away until it’s back to the normal, barely there, state. The buzzing fades into a gentle hum, it barely being able to be heard. You can hear how heavy your breaths are and see the pure white of the snow. One of your hands is in front of you, pale and slowly turning blue. Frostbite will, or already has, set in. Were you going to die out here? Here, all alone. Nothing to your name. No one looking for you besides your parents. Who would find your body? Or would the masked man hide your body away, letting it decay somewhere?

You can hear the crunch of the snow and gentle humming coming your way. It seems the man has come for you. His pace is slow, not at all rushed. Soon enough, he walks into your field of vision. He crouches down, sitting on the balls of his feet. His gloved hand is brought up before it comes through your hair. “LoOk At YoU. A sHiVeRiNg, HaNdSoMe MeSs. As MuCh As I lIkE hOw YoU lOoK rIgHt NoW, bEiNg VuLnErAbLe AnD aLl, YoU’rE tUrNiNg BlUe,” As soon as those words leave his mouth, he scoops you up in his arms, holding you close to him tightly. “DoN’t WoRrY. I’lL tAkE gOoD cArE oF yOu. I lOvE yOu ToO mUcH nOt To. YoU’lL bE sAfElY tUcKeD aWaY iN tHaT hOuSe, WiTh Me By YoUr SiDe To KeEp YoU cOmPaNy. NoW dOeSn’T tHaT sOuNd NiCe?”

[jhilsara]

Tie Me to You/ Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Mika finds some compassion from Erik and James in her grief.

Word Count: 2.5k

<Last | Next>

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, and parental abuse

This fanfic will explore heavier emotions and will have eventual smut. Minors DNI

Can also be found on AO3 X

It only feels this raw right now

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind

Break up, break free, break through, break down

You would break your back to make me break a smile

You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back

Just like that

Labyrinth - Taylor Swift

Chapter 5

Mika is sitting at the dinner table trying to ignore the whispered hissing across the table. It’s hard when it’s the two men she has the least interactions with and when she definitely knows they’re talking about her. 

They think they’re being subtle, but it’s obvious they aren’t. Especially when Sam’s version of a whisper just sounds like a normal speaking voice. Just somehow rougher instead of softer. 

“James stop staring her down, it’s creepy… and not helping you.” Sam tells his older brother with a clipped tone in his voice.  

“Oh? Like you’re not constantly glaring daggers?” James redirects with a raised brow.  

Mika is trying to focus on the conversation Matthew is having with her, but it’s hard. She catches Damien across the table giving her a sympathetic look. He knows where her head is at, and it’s not focused on Matthew. 

“…that’s my resting face you dick.” Sam growls out at him.  

She can feel their eyes on her, and it takes all her attention to focus on Matthew. She’s even turned her body to face him fully. Too bad she doesn’t know what he’s saying. Was it something about the show they’ve been watching together? She just smiles and nods along, pretending to listen.  

Erik, who sits on the other side of her, leans towards his two stubborn brothers. “Why don’t you both just talk to her?” He calls them out with an annoyed tone. Crossing his arms looking at the two men in irritation.  

The table goes silent as everyone turns towards James and Sam. Mika doesn’t look up, instead taking more interest in her food.   

“Fuck this,” Sam groans and gets up, storming out of the dining room.  

The front door slams and Mika physically flinches at that. Erik puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder in comfort.  

“Excuse me.” James mutters stalking off on his own. His anger was much more repressed and simmering under the surface. He’s probably skulking off to her grandfather’s office. 

Erik sighs and stands up, “Sorry for their attitudes. I can talk to James.”  

Erik leaves the room and it’s just Damien, Matthew, and her. She sighs and feels herself losing her appetite. She excuses herself to go to her room. 

She still hasn’t changed the bedroom or unpacked any of her belongings. The room is still very much her grandfathers… and it’s exhausting. She lays on the bed and covers her eyes.  

She doesn’t know what to do about James or Sam… It was so easy to talk to the others, but those two. They made it hard.  She wonders if she’ll ever be close to them, but to be fair she wasn’t close to the other three either. They were just much easier to talk to and get along with.  

She wouldn’t say they were friends yet, but they were getting along. Which is more than she could hope to ask for.  

Could she really live in amicable hostility for the rest of her life? If the three of them just stayed out of each other’s way, would it be fine? Somehow this solution is still the better alternative than moving back in with her parents. She could almost laugh. 

There’s a soft knock at her door and she doesn’t move from the bed. “Come in.”  

The door creaks open and she doesn’t move to look at who it is, settling for wallowing in self-pity on the bed. “I talked to James, he’s much more reasonable than Sam.” Erik’s voice says as he comes in. 

“Are those your bags in the corner?” Erik’s voice asks in surprise.  

She finally sits up, a little embarrassed. “Yes?” she says it like it’s a question but those are her bags filled with her belongings. Included some of the miscellaneous items she had grabbed from her room before storming out of her parents. 

Erik gives her a look of concern before walking over to the dresser. He reaches for it, and she almost vaults herself off the bed. “Don’t open those!” 

Her voice is louder than she wants, and it hinges on desperation. Erik raises his brow before opening the drawer and looking in. He makes a small face, as if he’s confirming what he already knew. He looks at her in pity.  

“Mika… have you emptied any of his things?” he asks her softly.  

She stands in front of him, looking into the drawer of her grandfathers’ clothes like something had come to haunt her. “I did in the bathroom…” she says in a small voice.  

Erik sighs and closes the drawer, looking down at her. “Sweet girl, you can’t live like this.”  

“I just, I couldn’t do it…” She says, “Every time I opened it I just, I froze. It felt like if I didn’t empty it out, then it was like he would come back.” She admits softly.  

“I guess that’s a little silly, huh?”  

Erik looks at her with sincerity, “It’s not foolish, you’re grieving. There’s a difference.” He tells her. “This isn’t good for you though; you need to make this room yours. Or you’ll feel like a guest in this home forever.”  

She shakes her head, “I… I can’t. Physically I can’t, I tried to last week and I just…” she grits her teeth and sighs moving back to sit on the bed.  

“I can’t.” she murmurs.  

There’s a pause before Erik talks again, “What if I did it? I could clean out his stuff and just put it in his office in boxes. So, it’s all in one place for when you are ready?” he suggests. 

“You would do that?” she asks him in surprise.  

Erik nods his head. “I can redecorate in here too if you want, make it yours.”  

“You really don’t have to do that, I mean, it’s a really nice offer but-“ Erik cuts her off raising his hand telling her to stop. “Don’t worry about it. Think of it as an apology for how I treated you at first.” He pushes himself off the dresser and leaves the room.  

“I can do it soon. Just leave it to me.” He waves at her before leaving the room. 

She gives him a half-hearted wave as he leaves, and she deflates. She pads over to the bathroom wanting to take a shower so hot she can’t feel her skin anymore.  

It’s finally a nice sunny day in early spring that Mika feels like she can tackle the back yard. The old flowers have died and gone, and she wasn’t about to spend money on a gardener like her grandfather.  

She also thinks it would be a therapeutic activity for her. She’s outside, her black hair pulled back out of her face into a ponytail, elbows deep in soil. The only thought she really has passing through her head is if she can even keep the flowers alive. She went on a run to the closest garden center with Damien and Erik. The three of them bought more flowers than was likely necessary. She’s debating on if she should plant the roses next to the marigolds or if the hyacinths should replace one of them, when someone sits next to her.  

She pauses and looks up to see James of all people putting on gardening gloves and looks over at her. “The marigolds and white roses will look better next to each other.” He tells her gently. She raises a brow in question. 

James sighs and starts to dig out a hole for the bushes, “Sorry about…well behaving like I have been.” He tells her. 

She pauses and sits up looking at him in surprise, “Oh? What changed?” she asks him going to hand him the rose bush. 

“Thanks.” He starts settling the bush in soil. “Erik came to talk to me…he told me about you in the study.” His hands press the soil down harder than probably necessary. His brow is furrowed as he avoids her gaze.  

“It’s obvious you’re grieving like we are. It was overwhelming and completely out of our control when Harold died. I mean we came home to a young woman in our house telling us our only friend was dead.” He looks up at her and his face furrowed in clear frustration.  

She sighs and digs up her own spot for another rose bush, “To be honest, I wasn’t planning to live here for a while…” She pulls an offending weed out of her way aggressively.  

James looks at her curiously, “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” he pries a bit.  

She bristles a bit, James put the roses in the ground, and she packs the soil harshly.  She doesn’t look up at him. “My father’s a dick is the short story. He was pissed grandpa left everything to me, including the company.”  

She pulls back assessing the bush placements. She turns her head to look at James, “Which I find hysterical since he was always going on about how it was the plan for me to go into the family business !” She bites out the last part like its venom.  

“The second he hears that he gets nothing from a man he never even talked to, I’m the bad guy!” she scoffs in irritation.  

She pulls to sit up straight, her fists clenched tightly in her lap, and she focuses on the ground instead of James. “He made us bury grandpa almost immediately and he had the shortest funeral service imaginable. When grandpa’s attorney came and told us he left me everything...my dad just got so mad.” her anger has washed out of her body as she just sits there staring at the rose bushes.  

“We got into a yelling match that night and he hit me. So, I left.” she whispers. 

“Wait, he hit you?” James tries to ask for clarification, tone clearly furious.  

She just nods nonchalantly, like it's as normal as discussing the weather. She rubs at her face, trying to use her sleeve and not her soil covered hands. She moves to grab the marigolds and starts digging in the dirt again.  

She feels his eyes burn into her form and she wishes he wouldn’t do this. Over analyze her like the older brother he is. He’s not her brother, she doesn’t need his judgmental eyes analyzing her every move.  

He sighs before following her motions to plant marigolds on his side of the bed. “Your father sounds foul and you’re clearly better off without him.” 

His statement surprises her, not that she doesn’t agree with him. She just thought he’d try to talk her into reclaiming some lost relationship with her father like others had before. She remembers Erik’s statement about their own father. ‘Our lives, our father.... let’s just leave it at he’s a real monster.’ She wonders if James feels like they can share this common ground between them.  

She gives a soft huff of a laugh, “Thanks… I just- I don’t even know if I want this company. I’m getting a business degree, but I don’t want one. I hate it…”   

James is quiet, mulling over her words. “What do you think your grandfather would tell you?” he prompts softly.  

She laughs, it’s a cold sharp noise, “I know what he would tell me. He wants me to follow my heart… I don’t even know what my heart wants.” she says with a sigh.  

James smiles, “What a very Harold thing to say.” He shakes his head finishing the section of marigolds he’s planted. 

“Yea just like him huh?” She adds with a soft grin of her own.  

“You don’t need to know what you want yet. If you know you don’t want the company, then don’t take it. You have time to figure out your life.” He tells her, in a tone that’s very much leaves little room for discussion. Like he’s an old wise man and not some twenty-something in the dirt with her. What was he? Maybe five years older than her? 

She looks at him like he’s grown two heads, “If I don’t take it my father will flip. It would also go to him, but he wants to keep it in the family. Our legacy. I can’t escape it.”  she adds with a shake of her head.  

She looks at the flowers and wishes life were as easy as a flower growing. It had a purpose. The flower grows, makes food for the bees, the bees pollinate the other plant life, and the circle of life goes on.  

What was her purpose? Did she even have a reason for living? Would she ever find one?  

Not good enough,

    not good enough,

      not good enough, 

                     not good enough.  

                                          Useless daughter,

                     unloved daughter,

                 useless daughter, 

                                                                        unloved daughter.  

N o   o n e   w a n t s   y o u 

“…What if I did it?” James voice cuts through her spiral of anxious noise in her head. She snaps her head to look at him. She feels how tight her body was and unclenches her fists. She blinks in confusion at his offer. 

“Harold talked to me about it all the time. Honestly human work sounds so much easier than what I was doing before.” James shrugs saying it nonchalantly. “You also have let my brothers and I keep our lives here. It’s a way I can give back to you and him. I can take care of your grandfathers’ legacy.” he says looking at her, his gold eyes piercing.  

He’s serious. 

She gives a little scoff, “I’d actually love nothing more than to do that… We’d have to go through a process though and an announcement.” she warns him. She knows this world; she’s been around the Anderson Toy Company since she was a kid. Was James really okay diving into this without a care? 

“We can do that. It doesn’t have to be now. When do they expect you in the office?” He asks. She can see him already doing mental calculations.  

“After I graduate in 2 months…”  she answers quietly.  

“Then we’ll do it before graduation.” he says matter-of-factly, like that was that. End of discussion.  

“What do I do though? I’m just gonna have a business degree I don’t want…” She adds trying to imagine what a life not burdened by her family’s company would look like. It’s unknown. It’s scary.  

It’s exciting. 

“You could-” James gently grabs the last of the marigolds to plant next to hers, “look at majors at your school that interest you. Get a different degree, something you like.” he suggests. 

“… I did get great scholarships for this degree. I don’t have a big student loan. I only had to take out $10,000.” She hums in thought, more to herself than anything. 

“Don’t worry about the money. Your grandfather left you a lot and I can pay for it. Just find something you think your grandfather would know you’re happy with.” James says, wiping his hands off.  

Her eyebrows raise. “Why would you do that for me?” she asks him.  

Just the other day he was so angry he left the room and couldn’t even look at her. Surely it was more than just Erik talking to him? He was being... so kind. It wasn’t condescending, but genuine. 

He shrugs, “I’m repaying my debts… besides, it’s what Harold would want for you.” he tells her. It’s a peace offering. An apology for how he’s treated her this past month.  

She gives him a real, warm smile, “Thank you James. It means a lot, more than you could know.”  

He just shrugs like it’s not a big deal and stands up, taking his gardening gloves off, “I just know what it’s like to feel trapped.” he tells her with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.  

He walks back inside before she could ask what he meant.  

[funkii-fox]

Should I block the French Guy?

This mf has the audacity to pretend to agree that AI “art” is wrong, then STILL is using AI to generate images of his ocs. I posted the quote of Araki condemning AI “art” and this fucking guy has the audacity to like it, even tho I had him in mind while posting it.

I was like “yk, I havent seen this guy’s story in a while because it’s 100% hateful, maybe I should check to see if he still does.” The most recent one I could find was from September 8th in a highlight abt ocs, but that’s not to say he hasn’t used it since and just didn’t save it to highlight. Make of that what you will, but I choose to believe he’s still using AI. I remember once I even had a convo telling him to stop using AI, but bro just went “ok” and still used AI BRUH🗿

But guess what else I saw: he likes Jimmy 😭😭😭 this was 100% expected tho. He once changed his pfp to Curly and i was like “your ass is NOT Curly ur Jimmy bro.” He posted 3 whole stories abt the community judging ppl that like Jimmy. He compared it to how ppl like DIO and said its bc he has pretty privilege and not Jimmy and thats why ppl judge them. I won’t lie; yes, most ppl like DIO bc hes pretty and charming, but at least he has some types of redeeming qualities. Jimmy is just 100% asshole. Every scene you see of him is he’s being a jerk or a fuck up that says “i can fix this” but actually can’t. Mouthwashing is SO un-nuanced in the way you’re supposed to hate Jimmy, it’s amazing rlly. We’re not even shown much of his personal life or other aspects of his personality; unlike other antagonists like Kira or Diavolo.

Now, am I gonna throw rocks at your window for liking Jimmy? No. Do what you want. But, i will psychoanalyze you and conclude that you like him either for the abusive dynamic or you like him bc he’s like you. This guy 110% likes Jimmy bc he’s relatable.

Simply looking at it face value right now, the way this guy is so OBSESSED with other people is insane. 90% of my conversations w this guy has been bruja arianna, snerufu, antis, women who make self insert ocs, or his arch nemesis Fay that he just can’t stop stalking. It reminds me of how Jimmy was obsessed and jealous of Curly’s success. He is also negative all the time. Even when making a joke, the punchline is always someone else or a cheap horny joke that comes across as a 7th grader. It reminds me of how Jimmy HAD to take Curly saying “i want more in life” the wrong way. It even manifests in the way bro had Curly as his pfp; because he wants to be like Curly.

We met from me shitting on bruja arianna. My criticism came from logic and a want to make change in the community, but it’s clear now that his criticism comes from hate and insecurity. He’s so passionate about hate, i think it’s the only thing he’s passionate about. He’s not even passionate enough about his own ocs to draw them himself. He’s so hateful he makes fun of women in the fandom for damn near anything they do, as if millions of ppl don’t also see him as a woman and as if he never lived as a woman. Then he hides all of his edginess as “im French lol we’re just angry :p” be so serious

His only other characteristic is being hypocritical. This guy “doesn’t deserve hate” but is constantly negative all the time. This guys gets upset at shit on a screen just to search it up more. This guy HATES bruja arianna for mocking trans men, yet all his male ocs are “androgynous” no mf they look like girls.

Chat, I don’t care anymore about being stalked. I’m stronger now. I have better things to worry about now that I have a life. I don’t care if he talks a lot of shit nor do I care if he “exposes” me for some made up bs. He can have a tantrum all he wants; i have better things to care about

Poll whether I should block him under the cut.

[oraclemoontarot]

Lmao I've been seeing people requesting for straykids opinions on you if you were friends and tbh i found that quite interesting lmao like imagine them as your friends. 😭☝🏻

So can I try with BTS?? *As i don't stan a lot of groups and they are my OG lol* Like how would BTS view me if we were friends?

My info->Jasmine, (cap) sun, (virgo) moon and (taurus) rising.

Also, I'm sorry i sent another request i was just going through your posts (stalking you) and i found the question really interesting tbh so I was like Lemme try it too. Also, no hurry if ny request will come after others as I've already asked before it's fine as well I don't have any problem!!

Also have a beautiful day ahead, have an amazing day!! 🫶🏻🤍✨🧿

hii jasmine, ofc!! and it's no problem, this is a fun request! (the stalking part is sending mee 😭 you're so real). honestly, i think about it sometimes, especially with idols who have similar personalities to me, and i'd feel sorry for anyone in the same room as us... 💀 here's the reading you requested 💗

this is also a new deck that i'm currently learning interpretations of, so lmk if it resonated!

requested reading ★

jungkook ୨୧

cards pulled: world, knight of swords, four of pentacles, two of pentacles, six of pentacles, seven of pentacles, hanged man, page of swords, wheel of fortune

this is already starting off really sweet. jungkook would feel like you complete him in a way, but also that you achieve whatever you set your mind on. like, you work on your skills and you put a lot of effort into your career. he would find you to be someone who values communication and share interesting viewpoints and talk about unique topics - you would have meaningful conversations.

he may view you as someone mature, takes care of their appearance, but also really sweet and cute? like, he would find you endearing. but also really dreamy and he would like how you dress and take care of yourself. but, with the seven of pentacles card in this deck, it's just such a sweet and dreamy card, and it's how he would view you. maybe you know how to enjoy the moment, or you may catch yourself living in your head at times and it's like this moment of peace - maybe you may smile to yourself at times.

with the wheel of fortune, he may find you to be someone surprising. it's like there's a new side to you each time he meets you or learns something about you. like you're constantly changing... i'm getting you're an enigma to him (i had to double check the meaning as it came out of no where 😭 but it seems to explain it well). you're mysterious and unique and that's intriguing.

rm ୨୧

cards pulled: seven of wands, nine of swords, eight of swords, two of wands, strength, four of pentacles, queen of wands, death + hierophant

rm would view you as someone who is open to communicating about your worries but also his. he sees you as someone who would want to sort misunderstandings, open communication, and hear others out. he sees you as a great communicator.

he also sees you as someone who looks ahead and has plans for the future. you set goals for yourself and, with the strength, you're someone who is strong-willed and you aren't shaken easily. it seems like he would have a lot of respect for you. he also sees you as the queen of wands, you have this allure to you, but you're also fun and exciting, you can by the hype friend where you bring energy and life to a party.

with the death card, he sees you as someone who has grown and changed a lot, you may have even gone through struggles but, paired with the strength card, you always manage to get through those challenges.

overall, with hierophant, he views you as someone special and unique, like you would be an important person in his life. but also, you could be a good mentor, you may have good advice or guidance for others, you may also have a sense of moral righteousness, where you know right from wrong and don't step over others boundaries.

v ୨୧

cards pulled: queen of swords, knight of wands, page of swords, five of swords, tower, five of cups, five of pentacles, two of swords, lovers

tae would view you as the queen of swords, someone who is a great communicator but also good at setting your own boundaries. you express concern for others and care for others, but you don't let anyone walk all over you. for some reason, in this reading, your appearance is important in how he'd view you. you may have sharper maybe almond eyes, but there's something expressive about them. you may appear cold or with an inner strength, but there are times when they'd soften and have a warmth to them? I'm not sure, but he'd see you as having many sides to you, and it would intrigue him in some way.

tae would view you as someone who appreciates gifts that people give to you and would care for it if they were fragile like flowers etc, he'd also view you as someone who knows how to have fun and pursue things you're interested in. he also feels like you're someone who brings change with you or at least have changed a lot, maybe you've gone through significant events in your life.

it may feel like the two of you may not get along/see eye to eye at times, and this may cause worry between the both of you, but there's this connection and the working through it, it's like you'd still be great friends regardless of certain misunderstandings. he may also see you as someone who has their fair share of worries, maybe you deal with personal problems on your own and don't really seek help from others sometimes? maybe you'd push people away if they asked about it etc.

jimin ୨୧

cards pulled: hermit, four of wands, two of wands, king of pentacles, two of pentacles, two of cups, world, four of pentacles + ten of pentacles

jimin would view you as someone who spends a lot of time thinking and improving themselves. you may be like the hermit, where you spend time evaluating things such as your feelings, actions, yourself, your relationships and the direction in which your life is heading. you may be an overall thoughtful person.

with the four of wands, he would see you as someone who is supportive, reassuring, strong and grounded. you're like a pillar in his life and keep him grounded. you also look towards the future and set goals that you stick to. he may view you as someone he'd want to protect or look after, because you'd be someone special to him. it feels like he treasures and values all his friendships/relationships, and this would be clear with you.

he would see you as the two of pentacles, you know how to have fun, you dress well for events, but you are also someone others can rely on. jimin definitely sees you as a supportive person through and through, like you're they hype buddy or the life of the party.

with the two of cups and the world, there's an emotional connection here and as though the two of you complete each other. there's a deep understanding that feels more like family than friends? or as though you'd have known each other for years. no words would have to be spoken for the two of you to know what's on each others mind.

with the four of pentacles, jimin would view you as someone who is reserved, maybe guarded at times. or it may feel like when he would try to get close there may be parts you protect. it may be that sometimes he may place you on a pedestal and sees you as being above his league.

overall, with the ten of pentacles, jimin would view you as someone who values family and relationships, he may view you as being family-oriented, wise, and an incredibly warm person.

(he had a lot to say 😭)

suga ୨୧

cards pulled: three of pentacles, ten of wands, emperor, three of wands, six of swords, seven of cups, two of swords, three of swords, king of swords

there's a lot of respect for your determination, almost like admiration and seeing you as an inspiration or role model of a sort. like, you would be good at cooperating or working with others, where you may bring new and interesting ideas, and hear everyone out.

with the ten of wands and seven of cups, even if a lot of options are presented to you, you stick towards one goal and work towards it, not letting anything sway you. he respects that determination and that you don't stray off track. with the emperor and two of swords, you are able to keep your composure under pressure, there's this strength to you where you don't let things weigh you down.

suga, with the three of wands and three of swords, would view you as someone who is able to look ahead towards the positives despite heartbreak or pain, you have a positive outlook on life and to him, are quite the optimist.

overall, with the king of swords, he would enjoy the balanced and interesting conversations with you. it feels like a really chill friendship where you guys would appreciate each other, it's nothing really deep or emotionally connected like jimin, but more so a mutual understanding.

jin ୨୧

cards pulled: five of swords, ace of wands, page of swords, two of pentacles, queen of swords, four of pentacles, lovers, nine of swords, strength

jin would view you as someone who doesn't let others words get to you, you're strong and set on your boundaries, you don't let people mouth off to you or say negative things to either you or the people around you. he also views you as passionate and creative, you have this energy to you where you stick to your goals and what you believe in. you're inspiring and someone who he would be motivated by.

with the page of swords and lovers, jin would view you as someone who matches him in terms of communication. he may like the way you speak/sound, maybe its the way you express you thoughts, or the way you use words. there's a harmony there, and this gentleness and grace. he views you as a positive person.

with the two of pentacles and nine of swords, jin views you as someone who has a cool and calm composure on the surface, someone who is mature yet he feels like you have a lot of worries that you bury.

overall, with the strength, jin would view you as someone who can get over any hurdle or challenge, you have this fearlessness about you and this confidence that is contagious. it's like you have this go-getter or the 'bring it on' energy. you could also motivate others really easily.

jhope ୨୧

cards pulled: four of swords, ten of wands, seven of cups, knight of cups, king of swords, five of wands, two of wands, hierophant, judgement

hobi would view you as someone who knows when to take a break from things, you're able to put yourself first when needed. with the ten of wands and five of wands, even if people may have objections or say things behind your back, you won't let it hinder you off of your path, you're determined even if it would take a lot of time and effort. and, similarly, with the seven of cups and two of wands, even if a lot of options are presented before you, you would weigh them and stick to one without looking back.

with the knight of cups, hobi would view you as an ideal friend, like someone he would value deeply in his life. paired with the hierophant, you're someone who is a great supporter, again a hype buddy, you'd motivate him and guide him if needed. he also sees you as someone who can be very driven and a great communicator, you're peaceful and mature, even the quiet moments with you wouldn't feel awkward as there's this sense of calm about you.

overall, with the judgement, you are constantly working on yourself, and he feels as though you're someone who knows your purpose or at least knows yourself really well.

[victims-of]

Tumblr is Unsafe for Women

This post includes details about stalking and harassment

I started using this website when I was a teen girl. Almost immediately, I was followed by a man who started stalking me. He had already been on tumblr and part of it’s community, before I even joined and had already established stalking other women as well including 16 year old girls.

He post images of kids on his tumblr account, and images that were directed at us (the kids he was stalking.) He also had a youtube channel, and a twitter account where he made nasty jokes about us or jokes referencing sexual assault, jokes like “you’re fine - but how old is your little sister?”

I didn’t realize at first what was happening. It took time for me especially as a kid to recognize what was going on. One day on Facebook, one of my dad’s friends posted one of this man’s youtube videos. After that, I was no longer just being stalked by this older man on Tumblr, but also by more men twice my age that I knew in real life. At the same time, the pedophile on tumblr, he posted a bizarre rant one day. He started his post off by making a joke about masturbating to his ex-wife. He said he was stalking her and that he found her living in another country. He said he was mad that he dumped her and she moved on with her life. He was mad that even though he dumped her, she still had to be basically property to him. He started talking about how he was going to “travel”

After that heis tumblr account went silent. A week passed and one of the other young people he was stalking online, made a tumblr post about a strange man that tried to roofy them. A week passed, and another person he was stalking posted about a strange man waiting outside her apartments for her. The strange man told her “Don’t be scared. Let’s smoke weed together” but she was terrified.

I lived in fear during this time that he was traveling and looking for the group of kids he was stalking. I was constantly paranoid and ready to call the policed if I saw anything weird at all. I decided to block this man stalking me on tumblr. I deleted my tumblr account that he was following. I tried to make it so that he couldn’t stalk me anymore.

What happened after that, is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me in my life. The cruelty that I experienced is unbelievable and so disgusting. I tried to live anonymously online so he culdn’t find me. So no one could stalk me anymore. I was being harassed by a group of men twice my age at this point. It was this man stalking me on tumblr, who had definitely been in contact with men twice my age that were “friends of my family.” Basically creepy uncles.

But trying to get away from him pissed him off. He found my Facebook account, he found my anonymous tumblr account anyways. He started messaging anyone I followed on tumblr. Anyone I reblogged. Any page I liked on Facebook. He would tell these people to harass me for him, AND THEY WOULD DO IT.

I was a teen girl and this man was much older than me. They would join in and harass me anyways. Suddenly I was fully immersed in a wide scale harassment campaign. Everywhere I went online, I was being harassed for this pedophile. I know that employees that worked for Tumblr were part of it. On Tumblr, everyone called themselves “feminists” yet they still would harass and blame me for a man much older than me stalking me. They used homophobic cliches. They said that because I’m not straight, I’m the creepy one and I’m the problem and not the pedophile stalking me and other teen girls. It was the most homophobic hate campaign I’ve ever been through in my life.

On tumblr, they drew an MS Paint picture of me being sexually assaulted and reblogged it with each other to laugh about it and they purposely reblog it so I would have to look at it.  Every day I was being harassed by mobs of people online everywhere I went. I was being sexually harassed by them, and just harassed in general. Everyone just acted like it was funny, while still calling themselves “feminists.” I was just a teen girl, and I was contemplating suicide just to get away from the harassment. Eventually I had to stop using the internet all together. For a year I never looked at social media. I refused. It was all harassment.

I think because I removed myself from social media, that pissed off everyone harassing me and group-stalking me that they decided to dox me at my job.

I had creepy men showing up at my job and harassing me at my job. They talked to my coworkers, so my coworkers started harassing me to. I had to stop going to that job. And the harassment only continued to get worse after that

[gooserps]

hey! cody / dorian here. first of all, red has been stalking / harassing me and sending me horrific messages despite being blocked for many years now. secondly, the doc layout they claim i “stole” was a template made by a creator on twitter so the favt they’re claiming it as their’s is, in fact, plagiarism. when i used said template i kept the credit in tact as i got it from the creator, not red. red couldn’t even be bothered to do that as they love to claim every little thing as their own, including any templates or graphics i’ve made ( even those that aren’t even similar ) out of idk imposter syndrome or jealousy idfk. they love to cry wolf why doing shitty things to other people. like i said, instead of ever messaging me privately they send mobs after me and spam my inbox with disgusting awful messages or bait me into agreeing that i stole things when i didn’t, then claim that i’m clearly guilty cuz i block them. i’ve had them blocked on any account of their’s that pops up and it’s been that way since like 2017 - 2018 as they’ve been doing this consistently for this fucking long despite how many times i block them they just make new accounts to harass me. i never posted about it cuz red stans are so obsessed with them that they just never listen so i knew there was no point, so i’d delete and restart so i can freshly block them and their friends but immediately they’d find me and blow up my messages with nasty things again.

also, about the rps, no one bothered to ask about anything but 1. i don’t make anyone do all the work. i relayed it to the co admins i had at the time that i was going through a job transition when they signed on and they knew what my situation was and all agreed, but apparently instead of talking to me 1x1 like adults someone got butthurt when i said i had to step down because i was under a lot of personal stress ( moving my bf and i into an apt asap to get him out of a dangerous situation, transitioning from one shitty full time job to another, etc. and then red popping back up on top of everything ) and went to red which says to me they’re probably friends with them and only joined for that. the other situations i’ve had have either been with co admins who ghosted and i didn’t have the availability to take it on on my own, someone tried to hijack the rp, or red’s constant harassment.

this is the one and only time i’ll speak on this. the red stans will do what they please and red will constantly cry victim with their own stolen content and baggage they try and push onto everyone else to cover up their own shitty behavior and that’s fine. i’m going to live my life and write and enjoy it because that’s what i want. shame red can’t find any joy in creating / writing anymore that they have to result to this.

oh and btw my group is doing great! super original plot with graphics and a google doc i made myself. my co admin is absolutely wonderful as well!

.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

I guess since I'm the hell out of there and enough time has gone by I can explain what the hell was up with my name and rebrand while I was living with Fine and GB...

Because yes I completely changed my online image and my screen name and all my graphics after over 10 years of not doing that and kept changing my urls on zero notice... I even used Ai to make some new graphics again after that when I am in fact a digital artist myself and I know some people feel like that's a weird choice for me too.

Warning for just about damn near fucking everything:

After the first assault and then using my memory issues to do it the fuck again, it triggered me into remembering both instances and dumping all sense of connection to GB and I told him we weren't together anymore, so he wasn't allowed to use any of my stuff, or my bathroom -he also flooded it once and pretended nothing happened- and that he wasn't allowed to come into my back end of the basement anymore, and that I didn't want to speak to him about it.

In response he wrote me two separate and weird poems or notes acing like he didn't understand what was going or on claiming innocence about not understanding that his behaviour was harmful to me. Yes, do not put it past someone to try to force you to touch their dick and then act like that isn't harmful behaviour. Yeah, don't put it past them to wait until you don't seem to be remembering that it happened and that you have expressed that you never want to have sex again, when they know you have memory problems and issues with dissociating, to try to have sex with you again, and then act like that isn't harmful. Like they can't possibly know it would be harmful. Yes, even after being told I didn't want to kiss him either because of the risks to my health at the time, he still waited until I wasn't on guard to stop him, kissed me, then smirked and gasped about it, like he obviously fucking knew, and then tried to play innocent about it. He's say shit like "but why wouldn't you want me getting close to your mom?" and other shit like he was constantly testing to see if he could catch me dissociated again and not remembering what he did. All this after I explained how deeply traumatizing it was for men to do this to take advantage of me before. He knew. But he's skated by his whole life on everything by acting confused and like he can't understand. He understood well enough to use it to manipulate me until it stopped working.

He also started following me around. Anytime other people weren't home he would glue himself to my side and constantly talk to me and ask me questions about our relationship. Who I was going out with, constant grilling about who I was going to go see, where I was going, what my relationship was to anyone else I had contact with. "just curious :)" All after being told hundreds of times how stressing me out too much about something is how my brain ends up locking it in a box for later, after being told how making me stressed out about something is how to make me forget it involuntarily. Of course, thankfully, he misinterpreted what that meant, and had selective earwax about the part where once there was more bullshit than anything good, a switch would flip and he'd be stuck with the version of me that remembers -only- the abuse, while all the other memories die in their place... But the point is he started stalking and harassing me.

And he started going out of his way to get so fucking extra chummy and attentive with Fine and Tictacs and literally everyone around us.

He was my housemate and my only way to buy anything I needed online. We had to communicate over rent and bills and anything I couldn't buy locally.

And he started doing really ballsy shit like trying to bond with me over how 'stupid his therapist was being' by telling him he hadn't done anything wrong and how none of it was his fault "haha crazy ammairite? XD" Like he thinks I an so fucking stupid...

...

And then corona started, Fine infected me while trying to hide it was even happening because I was on a social media hiatus, and I got too sick to get out of bed, for months and he was the only one willign to bring me supplies.

Thankfully at that point he knew that if he tried anything overt I'd just call the cops... But he controlled my food, what cleaning supplies I got. I got really fucking sick multiple times after eating food he brought me, he refused to bring me the supplies I needed to clean up after the cats or to kill to toxic mould in my room from the flooding he helped cause... Bread he brought me was spoiling in 3 days with horrendous amounts of black mould, lots of things seemed tampered with.

I told my doctor he might be poisoning me and I wanted to get tests done and she said "well we can't do these procedures and tests on a 'maybe' u.u" As if the proof of him poisoning me didn't rely on those tests???

Yes you heard right, my doctor wouldn't confirm if my housemate was poisoning me so I could take legal action to stop him having physical access to me and my food in my own home!

And I couldn't tell you about it because he had access to my blog and to me in my own home!

Then after long enough of being deathly ill but not actually dying. He stopped. He just started refusing to bring me anything at all. He wasn't getting whatever he wanted out of bringing me supplies and just left me to die.

He kept letting the dryer exhaust flood into the whole basement where only my room was instead of doing what he was repeatedly told to do with the lint trap.

So, suffering the symptoms of multiple organ failure, post covid from hell, every autoimmune fuckery it triggered, CO exposure, black mould in my room with mould allergies that was closing up my lungs, Fine using cleaning supplies I was high-key allergic to and REFUSING to stop, having daily heart attacks from my blood minerals being wildly off from what I now realize was the same kidney malfunction causing me to not pee for a week around that time, and all the bone pain... Which I also told my doctor about, and the hospital, to zero fucking effect... and jaundiced as hell and barely able to remember what I was thinking for a whole 2 seconds at a time, I realized I was dying and absolutely no one would help me. I got angry about it.

Even my mother and Tictacs both, when asked to check in on me daily to make sure I responded, both waited a week before sending me some passive aggressive "so are you sill alive" fucking bullshit message and not waiting for a response. Like I cannot stress enough how much surrounded by people and actively asking for help, I am still alone in everything.

So I took the bed out of my room, treated it with the last watered down mould enzyme spray and built myself a replacement bed out of rope and palette board. Instead of a 3x6 foot mass harbouring moisture 6 inches over my floor, I had a woven net bed that was over a meter off the ground in the driest corner of my room with only a yoga mat in it to insulate me from the cold of the floor, so it wouldn't harbour moisture. I put a latch on the dryer exhaust and started cleaning the filter out myself. I researched my symptoms however I could and found things I could eat without having cardiac spasms. I started to be able to pee again after a week and all the pressure in my abdomen went away. I got less yellow. etc...

And how much of dying at the the time was corona and autoimmune VS being actively or passively poisoned? WHO KNOWS! My doctors sure as fuck weren't going to help me figure that out!

And the timeline is a little fucky for me because I had 1-2 viruses and my immune system trying to eat my brain while my organs failed and I was being exposed to carbon monoxide from the drier exhaust and to black mould. So forgive me if some of this is out of order, but this would be around the time you saw photos of the nest/bed I made in my closet. I couldn't tell you all of what was going on at the time. I think I also tried paper making because the humidity in my room had been jacked for over a year anyway??? I had needed something to work on in my room that kept me up and moving around.

I recovered enough-ish and started climbing out the back window of my room to get my own supplies, and so I could leave the house without him noticing and to avoid breathing upstairs. It's also how I had to take out my garbage and etc, because Fine and GB refused to do absolutely anything to not constantly bring corona into the house, but they mostly stayed upstairs. There was a living area downstairs but my room was down a hall after the laundry room off of that and so was my bathroom and neither of them had any excuse to be there. We remember this.

And yet I got the distinct impression he was coming in there when I was out.

In addition to following me around --but only when no one was paying attention or was home to notice, so he obviously fucking knew it was wrong-- he had my url to follow me here on tumblr.

And the problem is that your internet history maintains links, even if you change the url. Firefox would just update that shit. And most of the time he left the house he would take his whole desktop computer with him to his mothers, so I didn't have access to it.

You need physical access to a computer in most cases to good and truly wipe the links to sites that their browser has recently accessed. Just changing your url and IP does jack shit, and yes I know that.

And I had told him to stop checking up on me. To stop talking to me socially, to stop looking at my blog, to respect my fucking boundaries. After years of him hearing about how other people following me around or outright stalking me or fucking with my memory was a seriously fucking traumatizing issue that kept ruining my life.

And he kept saying shit to me he couldn't have possibly known unless he was checking up on my blog, and I just had to keep playing stupid so he wouldn't stop incriminating himself to me. Even after I deleted any follower that might conceivably be him. [yes I went through what was 300+ followers at the time, probably shot a lot of bots in the process]

I didn't want to lose all the followers I had gained for my writing etc, only to not shake him off my ass anyway because he had access to me in my own house!

So I did what I could. I changed my entire image to something that seemed a little out of left field at the time for me, so I didn't look like me anymore and the name was different, and kept changing the exact spelling of my URL across social media, unlinked things, got a vpn... And whenever he left the house and didn't bring his computer with him, I would sneak upstairs and repeatedly wipe his internet history and ect as thoroughly as I could... And then immediately change my url again and hope he wasn't also looking at my tumblr on computer systems at his mom's house.

All in the hopes that the link wouldn't be maintained and when he put in the name or spelling he thought he remembered he wouldn't be able to find me again. And if he did he might not be sure it was even me.

And I kept telling Fine and anyone else who would listen to not give him links to my social media, not to let him use their computers. I never knew if they took it seriously.

And I couldn't really say anything to you guys about the gritty details of what was happening -while it was happening- because he had 24 hour access to me in my own home and potentially still had access to my blog. So if I even seemed like I was too suspicious about the potential of being poisoned or if I looked like I was remembering the assault, etc... He would see that and have access to me. I don't know what details I have talked about since but I do know I've probably been too angry/avoidant to really give the full rundown in context... Probably, my memory is shit.

So I used people coming into our yard and fucking with our bikes as an excuse to get him to help me buy a security camera online. I tried to confirm multiple times with him that it would work on any system, because I prefer cheap android phones, and he kept just saying "it'll work with what you have :)" and that's why I am stuck with a stupid apple product that will ONLY work on the replacement phone his mother gave me second hand, or another 600$ fucking dollar phone [also my new phone only got broken because of him sabotaging me too, but that's another story... but also it will work with my tablet and I bet he didn't fucking think of that now did he?]... But I took that security camera and I aimed it down the hall facing away from my room, so I would be alerted and have video evidence any time someone tried to approach my room.

And I lived like that because having to move during the pandemic by rights should have killed me.

But eventually, Fine was threatening to move out and leave me alone with him, to go live with a guy she knows wants to fuck her in a very one-sided way out in BC, with him promising to pay for everything and let her live with him... And wouldn't listen to sense... So I had to chose between bringing another roommate or two into that existing circumstance, and telling them about the problem, thus guaranteeing we would never find anyone, or not telling them about the problem...

But see my landlord actually had a legal obligation, as my landlord, to evict other tenants who were abusing me. Like that's in his fucking job description, legally! Replacing both of them would be better than any other option...

So I bit the bullet and told my landlord what GB was doing to me. The landlord who kept acting like my friend and kept saying we were friends and I could go to him if there was a problem.

And he told me that'd have to be "between [me] and the police :)" That he wasn't going to put himself in the middle of it or help me.

...

And then within 3 months he decided to sell the house and evict us.

And when he brought up having another apartment in a building he managed/owned that he could rent to one of us, Fine leapt to try to snatch it up right in front of me, both of them knowing the situation I was in, and I never heard back about it. [So much for "I would never let you be homeless u.u" right, Fine? But then you didn't care GB kept trying to rape me either and kept calling that a "two sided issue" so I don't know what the fuck I expected. Not only would you -let- me be homeless and assaulted but you'd sell me to Satan for a corn chip... Don't worry she won't see that because I told her to stop looking at my blog too, so if she does that's a 'her' problem]

Which is how I ended up being forced into a 1000$ apartment on a disability pension that I at least get to myself.

And well I have certainly been documenting how THAT all went with the movers and their bullshit and everything I have been struggling with since...

And that's why I was such an obnoxious asshole with changing my url for a while there and why suddenly rebranding with no fucking warning after I spent years not doing that, and promising I wouldn't do that unless it became necessary.

I wasn't out here -trying- to make it hard to follow me or keep track of who I was for anyone, just GB. Well, him and every other stalker I have had or every other person who didn't respect it when I told them to stop reading my blog...

That's the stalking issue I was having, not -THAT- guy, not the second guy, not Moriarty again... Just like... The latest guy.

[bookfreaky]

On Last Week - Something Still Hurts

The topic of being constantly and permanently insatisfied with the world and unhappy with my life has caught up to me again. I'm sorry to myself because I had a great fucking year, I am not complaining that anything could or should be better, 2023 I lived a lot. I went under plastic surgery; I recovered and now I have boobs; I partied a lot; I ended (drastically) a four-year situationship that felt that only happened in my head and hurt me a lot; I got a publisher's contract and just published my first book now in 2024. I can see all these accomplishments, I just don't feel able to appreciate them.

I feel sad all the time, I feel terrible about myself all the time and it seems like the older I get, the most refined is my ability to hurt the people I love and care about. I am becoming violent, isolated and (as I feared), completely out-of-touch with reality. The old demons are still here sleeping on my couch, alcoholism, my depression, an occasional suicide ideation that doesn't even scare me anymore, a ridiculous need to stalk my ex on social media just to see his face so I don't call him, the constant sensation that my mother is angry at me because I did something wrong, feeling dysphoric about my body (now my new obsession is my face, and I can spend hours picking on flaws I see in the mirror), googling plastic surgeries when I should be sleeping, talking to myself while I walk aimlessly into rooms.

Is this me? Sometimes I don't even know. When you lived a huge part of your life playing a character in order to feel loved and safe, you get into habit to always look for somebody else to be. I put on a this new face - is it even my face? is that how I look on camera? God! - I wear a suit, I put on a flower dress and I speak in this is manner that makes me sound like a british lady from 1920s, and it's now filmed and transformed in stories and reels and posts for instagram, because now I need to have an "image". Who is even that person? Who am I trying to be? Maria Bethania mixed with Virginia Woolf?

My face on videos look like a jewish transvestite (which I am), but what I mean really is brick-ugly. Or worse, passable pretty if she's got talent and personality. I don't want to look like a personality, I want to have a fuckable face. A face that you look at and think "I want to put my dick in her mouth". Well, because goddamn it, I craved for it like a goddamn whore while I was the perfect and most loyal friend. The thing is, having a personality-face doesn't take me anywhere, and if I won't be happy anyways, I might as well be hot. Commercially hot.

Everything seems to eat down on my too much, I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could just enjoy things... I wish I didn't try to find hidden meanings in everything that happens in my life, as if the Gods were planning to punish me. I wish I didn't feel so angry all the time. Last Saturday, I was having a dinner party at my house and all looked fine but I got into a fight with one my best friends, it got physical, I yelled at my parents, and then I started running in the middle of the street, in the rain, barefoot and completely drunk like a crazy woman while my friends called my name after me. I have to stop this, I have to stop fucking it up with the people what show up for me. I'll die alone in a ditch someday.

I had to create a fake instagram account, because I just cannot stand the interactions on my main account. To me, instagram was for pictures of fashion shows, makeup tutorials, cooking and cute animals. Like a maganize from a waiting room. Now it feels like people want to see me, whatever "me" I am. Making a professional account makes me feel like a prostitute. So I made a fake one so mainly I don't need to see my face, or faces I recognize, and I can stalk whoever I want and post random pictures of random things.

I feel like no one in there. And I miss how things were, but I am already writing poems that I hope I will not publish this time. If I am still writing poems, means something still hurts.

[johnaeryns]

I’m not a lesbian but I can understand your take on spuffy. But what I find absolutely hilarious is the fact that you have people so mad about it especially people you blocked on Twitter are posting your tumblr post and commenting on it. Like no one can have their own opinions unless it falls in with that they think. You’re more controversial then Spike

they like policing people’s opinions more than they like the actual show. half these people were spuffy stans at one point but stopped when it stopped being trendy on twitter. a ton of them also just watched the show recently so idk where they get off telling me what to think when i remember them joining the fandom. anyways i just think it’s really sad that they aren’t able to let people, including themselves, enjoy things just because of some moral high ground they for manufactured about a vampire tv show from the 90s. 

me, a lesbian, writing about how i feel this relationship connects to my personal experience and how that’s comforting to me is lesbophobic, but them constantly berating a lesbian for something they care about is not? how is me not liking a lesbian character lesbophobic, but them persistently belittling my identity isn’t? it makes me a little sick honestly, considering a lot of those people probably aren’t even lesbians themselves.

i know you sent this with 100% good intentions and i really appreciate your support but in the future i don’t really want anyone to tell me that people are talking about me on twitter. i have them blocked because i don’t want to see their tweets and knowing they’re complaining about me just makes me feel worse. i do like the connection to spike though, makes me feel better dklfajsl.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Villain DekuWife Au | 2

For context you should read Villain Deku x Wife Reader first And Here's the Masterlist

enjoy🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

❄️🔥He was enamored with your husband seeing as he was one of the reasons he became a Villain

❄️🔥Of course the final decision was up to him but Izuku definitely encouraged it

❄️🔥They've burned a lot of bonfires (read as: buildings) together

❄️🔥Even sharing a heated kiss or two

❄️🔥But a fine line was drawn when Izuku started dating you

❄️🔥It was irritating just how in love he was with you

❄️🔥Constantly gushing about his cute girlfriend and then his sexy wife

❄️🔥Shoto wasn't amused in fact he was so jealous of everything you did because Izuku loved it all

❄️🔥He was so obsessed with Izuku he'd even listen in on the private jacking off his friend would do when he got a text from his wife

❄️🔥And when he snuck a peak at what the text was it went along the lines of this

❄️🔥"Hey hun, I left your briefcase in the trunk of my car. Sorry 😞 BTW I saw u in ur suit before u left and u looked cute❤"

❄️🔥He could definitely text sexier than that

❄️🔥His stalking of Izuku would escalate until he got good enough to watch him during his home life

❄️🔥And he was obsessed

❄️🔥The busy wife coming home around the same time as her tired husband

❄️🔥Both just undressing amongst themselves with no insecurities

❄️🔥And the food made by them together as they chatted about their day

❄️🔥And sometimes the sexy times that followed if they weren't too tired

❄️🔥He loved it, it was his favorite past time

❄️🔥Envying you and wishing he was in your place

❄️🔥This wouldn't change until he got the faithful mission

❄️🔥"Shoto watch my wife for a bit, Shinso may try to bother her and I have to deal with something in Tokyo."

❄️🔥Silent protests only came out in a snide, " Why don't you get Bakugo to do it?"

❄️🔥Deku gave him a 'what the fries' kind of face.

❄️🔥" Because he has a drooling problem."

❄️🔥With that Todoroki suited up directed his limo to your humble home

❄️🔥"Uhm who are you?"

❄️🔥You seemed on guard immediately

❄️🔥"I'm Todoroki I work with your husband."

❄️🔥"Oh-ok c-come on in." You were still so hesitant

❄️🔥You made him tea as he sat in your quaint little room noting the cameras he had hidden there

❄️🔥"So what brings you here? I'm sorry Izuku isn't home right now."

❄️🔥"Oh no that's ok I just came to meet you. He talks so much about his 'cute wife' all the time"

❄️🔥He was practically seething

❄️🔥" Oh no! Is he not getting his work done?"

❄️🔥You went on to ramble on about how scatterbrained he can be

❄️🔥Todoroki was getting annoyed and accidentally spoke his mind

❄️🔥"Did he really have to pick you?"

❄️🔥"What?"

❄️🔥Mumbling something along the lines of 'this is just like that shounen manga I read'

❄️🔥You stand your ground, saying you love your husband no matter what he will try and in the end it will always be up to Izuku

❄️🔥"But Midoriya-san you shouldn't have let a man like me into your house if you love your husband so much."

❄️🔥He towered over you pinning you against the wall he's seen Deku do so many times before

❄️🔥And as if you were thinking the exact same thing he could see your nervous (blushing/biting lip/fidgeting/etc) that you did when your husband did the same

❄️🔥"I-i u-uhm w-well-" You were absolutely speechless, just the way he liked it

❄️🔥He enjoyed how small you were compared to him

❄️🔥Small enough so he could just trap you against his frame

❄️🔥And he was about to do just that but the specified vibration on his phone told him the time he had to spend with you was over

❄️🔥He excused himself saying its an urgent matter at work

❄️🔥He walked out but not before giving an open kiss to your vulnerable neck

❄️🔥No hickey, just a very embarrassed wife left in the living room

❄️🔥And Todoroki left confused but oddly invigorated

❄️🔥Midoriya would see this pep in his partner's step and he knew for sure that he had met his wife

[hollywoodxwhore]

save me

Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: angst, crying, talk of mental illness, arguing, smut (18+), fluff at the end

Word Count: 2349

Requested? Yes! Trying to crank out these requests. "can we get reader comfort Colson after he has a hard day of work and him x reader argue about him working too and he breaks down in the middle of the argument then the reader comforts him and the rest is up to you I love your blog 🥺💕💕"

Another angsty request! Angst and smut are my favorites, keep them coming.

Your favorite part of the day was when Colson returned home from work. Usually, he was happy to see you, even if it had been a rough day, but lately, that hadn’t been the case. He’d been coming home increasingly more frustrated each night. He was working on his new album in the studio and you knew what a perfectionist he was. If songs didn’t come out exactly how he wanted them, then they’d record again. 

You were tense when you heard his car pull up in the garage. You had been waiting for him to snap at you and you had a strange, sick feeling that today would be that day. You jumped as he threw open the door, slamming it behind him. You finished washing the plate in your hand and then slowly reached for a towel. 

Wordlessly, Colson went right to the fridge and pulled out a beer, prying the top off with his teeth. The lid clattered onto the floor and you lifted a brow, turning around to look at him. His shoes were left haphazardly into the kitchen and as he stalked to the living room, his shirt fell onto the floor as well. He was being a dick, disrespecting the house you’d spent all day cleaning. He hadn’t even said hi to you.

“Um, hi,” you said, putting yourself in his path and reaching out to touch him. 

Colson pushed your hand away and ignored you, walking right past you into the living room. 

You watched him go, stunned, then scoffed and threw his shoes over toward the shoe rack. You scooped up his discarded shirt and followed him. “That’s fine, I haven’t been cleaning your house all day or anything,” you muttered.

“Lay off it, Y/N,” Colson finally mumbled.

You stopped in the doorway, watching him drop onto the couch. “Oh, he speaks!” You knew you were being a bitch, but you were so done with him acting like a child. He was in his thirties now and it wasn’t fair to act like a teenager when he was pissed off.

Colson just shook his head, not looking up at you. He didn’t look angry, just defeated. Guilt twisted your stomach for a brief moment until he spoke. 

“Goddamn, why do you have to be such a bitch?” he mumbled, still not meeting your eyes.

“Fuck you, Colson,” you spat. You were egging him on but you couldn’t help it. “You’re allowed to be pissed off but you don’t get to come home and be a dick.” 

Colson laughed harshly. “Act like you have any idea how hard my job is.”

Your blood boiled. Colson was constantly downplaying your life and your job and making his seem so much harder. You knew it was tough, but it wasn’t a contest. You knew you needed to walk away but there you stood, speechless. 

Colson finally looked up at you, his eyes cold. “What?” he snapped so loudly that you flinched. 

Your lip wobbled but you bit down on it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of tears. “You’re an asshole,” you said quietly. “I’m your girlfriend. I don’t deserve this.”

“Then leave!” he yelled. His eyes were fiery with passion and anger, a vein protruding from his neck. He had reached his limit. “I don’t need you anyway! Fuck!” 

“You don’t mean that,” you said shakily, twisting his t-shirt between your trembling hands. 

“Maybe I do, Y/N,” Colson said coldly. 

You laughed humorlessly. “So, you’re just going to throw away two years?”

“Maybe I fucking am,” Colson shot back, glaring at you. “I don’t need a bitch nagging me when I’ve had a bad day.”

“Stop calling me a bitch!” you snapped, throwing his shirt at him. It wasn’t hard enough to really cause an impact, but it pissed him off enough that he jumped to his feet and was up in your space in mere seconds. You could feel his breath against your lips as he got in your face. His heart was pounding just as hard as yours. 

Colson scared you sometimes. You were worried he’d hurt himself. But this was the first time you’d ever been scared that he was going to hurt you. You tried standing your ground but you were scared, and finally, you cowered, ducking away from him. You crossed your arms, noticing just how hard your hands were shaking. 

You jumped when you felt his hands on your shoulders. “Y/N…” he croaked, and you felt him let out a shaky breath against your hair. You couldn’t have predicted what happened next. All of a sudden, Colson was full-blown sobbing. His arms wrapped loosely around your neck and he ducked down, sobbing into your hair. It scared you even more than his fury moments before. 

You were frozen in place for no more than a second before you turned around and wrapped your arms around Colson’s trembling shoulders. You’d never seen him cry this hard before and it was scaring you. He was audibly crying, sniffling and groaning miserably into the side of your neck. Your heart raced wildly as you held him, shushing him and trying to soothe him.

“Baby, breathe,” you told him, your brow knitted together in concern. “Col, honey, breathe.” Colson drew in a shuddering breath and exhaled another sob. You stumbled a few times, but managed to walk him over to the couch where you sat down and pulled him closer. He was practically in your lap at that point, hunched over with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. 

You cupped his face and lifted it so you could look at him, your thumbs brushing away thick streams of tears beneath red eyes. His face crumpled and more tears came, so you laid back on the couch and pulled him close. He lay on his stomach between your legs, his head on your chest and his arms wound tightly around your waist. He cried for a long time. Twenty minutes passed and you were still stroking his hair, whispering calming words into his ear. Finally, all that remained of his breakdown was the way he trembled in your arms. You stroked a hand down his sweaty neck and pulled his face away from your chest. His skin was hot and his hair was wet from where his tears had streamed into it. You pushed his hair off his forehead and left a kiss there. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked finally. “You’re not a bitch. And the thought of losing you….” His voice faded away but you knew what he meant.

You chewed your lip and wound your fingers in his hair, scraping your nails gently against his scalp. “Did it all get to be too much?” you asked gently. He nodded, whimpering miserably. “Okay,” you said, nodding, too. “I’m here. You’re okay.”

“I can’t do it, Y/N,” he blubbered, more tears coming. “It’s too hard. I feel like I can’t get anything right. I hate all the songs. I’m being a dick.”

“Shh,” you soothed. “You know you’re too hard on yourself, Col.” 

He sighed. “I know.” His voice was small. 

“Baby, you need sleep,” you told him. “I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I can’t,” he replied. “My mind just races.”

You thought for a moment. “Alright, we’re getting up.” Colson looked confused but sat up anyway. You reached for his hand and he followed you up the stairs and into the huge bathroom attached to the bedroom. You let go of his hand long enough to lean over the tub and turn the water on. You went back to Colson and unbuttoned his jeans, helping him to step out of them and his boxers. You paused to pour some bubbles into the water, then stripped off your own clothes. 

Colson held your hand as he stepped into the tub and then he helped you in after him, settling into the hot water with a sigh. He closed his eyes as he pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. “I love you,” he muttered into your hair. 

“I love you, too, Colson,” you assured him. Slowly, you felt him relax beneath you. Neither of you said anything during the bath. You sat there and held each other until the water cooled. You pulled away to drain it, then got out to dry off. Colson wrapped his towel around his waist and followed you into the bedroom. 

You told him to get into bed and he followed your direction wordlessly, rolling over to face the large, sliding glass door to the balcony. You ordered a pizza and then set your phone aside, crawling in bed beside Colson. You ran a hand down his back and leaned in to kiss his shoulder. He rolled over to look at you, his blue eyes sad and tired. Even still, he gave you a small smile. You couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him softly. The two of you lay there kissing slowly, just enjoying one another’s presence until your phone dinged the pizza’s arrival. 

Together, you ate in bed with nothing but soft music playing, the smoke from a joint mingling in the air between you. It was a really good Indica, one that was bound to help Colson sleep. Once the joint was done and the pizza was gone, Colson rolled onto his side to look at you. 

You mimicked his body language and smiled softly. “Better?” you asked. He nodded, his blue eyes holding your gaze. “What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said quietly. “You’re just beautiful. I don’t deserve you.”

You softened, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You deserve love and happiness, Colson.”

He studied your face for a moment and opened his arms. “Come here,” he said. You shifted closer, gladly settling into his arms. He hugged you for a moment and then cupped your chin, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. Then, he kissed you. 

You melted into the kiss, feeling your anxiety fade away. Colson still loved you. He wasn’t going to leave you or keep pushing you away. Somehow you just knew that everything was going to be okay. 

This kiss quickly turned deeper, Colson’s hands gently guiding you to straddle him, and you felt him hard beneath you. You broke the kiss and stroked your fingers over his cheek. “Are you sure, baby?” you murmured. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to be close to you,” he said, lifting his head to kiss you again, his hand cupping the back of your head. You smiled a little and kissed him back, letting yourself give into the desire. Your hips pressed down into his and he groaned softly, big hands sliding to cup your ass. 

“Let me take care of you, then,” you said, leaning in to kiss his neck. Colson groaned softly and nodded. He was always fairly submissive when emotional, and you wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to make him feel good. Usually, it was all about your pleasure, but you wanted him to feel good tonight. 

You left one more kiss on his swollen lips before disappearing beneath the blanket to kiss down his body. You took your time kissing his soft skin, listening to the soft sighs he released above you. When you took him into your mouth, Colson’s back arched off the bed and he moaned. A rush of cool air hit you when Colson lifted the blankets to look down at you. You met his eyes and moaned around him as you took him deeper. Colson muttered a quiet “fuck” and bit his lip, eyelashes fluttering as he watched you. 

After a few moments, you moved back up his body and positioned his cock between your legs, grinding yourself into him. You whimpered softly at the sensation and Colson’s lips parted in pleasure. “Y/N,” he sighed, hands tightening on your hips. “Please, baby.”

“What do you want?” you murmured, kissing softly at his neck. 

Colson squirmed. “Want you to ride me, baby,” he moaned, arching his neck to give you more access.

Wordlessly, you gave him what he wanted, sinking down on him slowly. He let out a breathy groan, squeezing your ass firmly. Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, his hands moved to your face, holding you close for a passionate kiss. 

You took your time working him up, loving his soft, needy sounds and the way he squirmed and writhed beneath you. You sat up slightly, pressing his hands into the bed beside his head, and he looked up at you in awe. “Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned, brow furrowing as you moved almost painfully slow. Colson’s cock twitched inside of you. “Shit, stop, I’m close,” he pleaded.

But you ignored him, fucking yourself onto him harder. He looked worried at the fact that you hadn’t come yet, but then his eyes fluttered closed as he couldn’t hold back anymore. He breathed out curses as his hips jerked and he came inside you, hard. You picked up the pace and rolled your hips until you were coming, too, with a soft moan. 

After, you collapsed on his chest, panting softly as he stroked your hair. Colson took a deep breath. “Did you come?” he whispered, and you nodded. Colson relaxed beneath you and hugged you closer. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, Col.”

“Y/N? I’m sorry,” he said, almost timidly. “You’re right. Bad days don’t give me an excuse to be a prick. I’ll do better. I promise.”

“I’m sorry I was being bitchy,” you agreed. “I made it worse.”

“It was my fault, love,” he insisted.

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” you said gently, sitting up a little to look down at him. “I love you. We’re okay, Col. I promise.”

Colson smiled softly up at you and you cupped his cheek. You were so in love with him and so grateful that he’d opened up to you, finally. You knew everything was going to end up okay. It always would.

[dameronology]

6 from the angst prompts with frank please🤲🏾

frank castle + 6) "why does my mind go back to when you used to hold me?"

ok. i'm gonna be real with you. this started by following the prompt, then it...it went somewhere else entirely. but we move.

You should have been happy in your lover's arms.

Anyone else in the world would have been fucking elated; wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa with a five-foot-eleven guy, with his ginger tousled hair and broad arms. Your first date together had been a favour to your sister, but you'd never found a reason to stop seeing him. After all, he looked after you. Texting you to make sure you got home safe, bringing you lunch at work, fixing your broken kitchen cabinet in your shitty little apartment. He was nice. Too nice. He was a sensible t-shirt made out of husband material.

So what did that make Frank Castle? The leather jacket that your parents had forbade you from buying? The stupidly ripped jeans that made your relatives ask dId yOu bUy tHeM lIke tHat?

But truthfully, there was no stupid, cliche metaphor for Frank Castle. He was absolutely indescribable; a walking contradiction, a fucking confusion. He was rough and soft and giving and taking all at once. He stole the air from the lungs and breathed it right back into you; stole the show, but never came out from behind the curtains. He'd ruined your life for twelve straight months and yet, you looked back on that year as the best time of your life.

Frank was gone now - gone to the wind, wherever his next crime took him. You still thought of him, though. Constantly. About how your new boyfriend's arms didn't hold you as tight; about how his hair was a lot softer than Frank's, and didn't scratch you in the same way his did whenever he buried his head in your neck. His hands weren't as large and protective. He didn't make you black coffee every morning - oat lattes and fancy cappuccinos, yeah. But not the shitty, sugarless crap that Frank served to you in a chipped Coney Island mug every day at 7AM. The new guy cared enough to walk you home, but not enough to elbow his way into your apartment at 3AM because he'd heard sirens four blocks away and panicked. Frank Castle had had a weird way of loving you - and now, everyone else's attempts at it paled in comparison.

Like I said before - anyone else would have been infatuated with the new man sat beside you. Admittedly, you'd only found one problem with him.

He wasn't Frank.

"I'm just going to make some tea," you said. "I'll be back in a second."

The auburn man looked at you. "Should I pause the movie?"

"It's okay, I've seen it before," you forced a smile.

Shrugging off the blanket, you stood up and stalked through to the kitchen. It was a separate room from your living area - Frank had always given you spiel about how cramped it felt. But the minute you spotted a pair of combat boots on the fire escape? You were just thankful for the privacy it now gave you from the man you should have been falling in love with.

Hopping up on the counter, you slid open the window and stuck one leg out onto the metal stairs. Frank naturally leant forward to help you, a large handing wrapping around your wrist and pulling you up. The sky was pitch black, lit only by the starry facade of the Lower East Side. Hell's Kitchen was beautiful from this angle - probably because the man who constantly tore it to pieces was stood on your fire escape.

"You look like shit," you greeted him. It was true; his hair was cropped and neat, and he was clean shaven like usual, but there was a fucking massive shiner on his left eye.

"So do you," Frank shot back. "Who the fuck does that t-shirt belong to?"

"None of your business," you said.

"It belongs to your ginger friend, doesn't it?" he deduced. "What's his name?"

"Again - none of your business."

"Fine. I'll just call him Ron, then."

"Okay, Frank," you huffed. "Why are you turning up on my fire escape at 1AM and giving me spiel about Harry Potter?"

"I was just checking in," he shrugged. "Am I not allowed to do that anymore?"

"No."

"Fine," he held his hands up in defence. "But I know you're thinking about me."

"I'm not thinking about you," you countered. "In fact, the first person I think of when I hear the name Frank is Frank Reynolds from It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia."

"You're a terrible liar, sweetheart," he reminded you.

"It's true. I really love Danny Devito-"

You abruptly stopped talking when Frank grabbed you by the waist, pulling you towards him. Your lips crashed against his - warm and familiar and chapped - in a passionate kiss. Time might as well have fucking stopped in that moment. It was a feeling you'd craved for so long; begged for, prayed to every god you believed in and even those you didn't.

"You love me more," Frank murmured. "More than the man inside."

"Frank," you murmured.

"Just say it," he pushed. "I know you love me - not him."

"Is that why you came back?" you asked. "Because you were worried I'd found someone else?"

"I came back because I missed you," he confessed.

"You went upstate to get away from all this," you half-heartedly gestured to the city below.

"And I came back for all this," he gestured to you with a large hand. "It's nothing to do with you being with someone else. It doesn't mean I don't want to left hook the guy for putting his hands on you, but..."

Frank trailed off. You, meanwhile, were still in disbelief. It had taken so much effort to move on; to force his remaining belongings into a box under your bed. Even more so to let another man in to said bed.

In a swift movement, he'd taken off his hoodie and pulled it over your shoulders. The zip was done up in mere seconds, thick hood pulled over your head. It smelt of Frank - domestic Frank, not I've gone bat-crap crazy on a gang in the middle of the night and come back looking like the prom scene in Carrie Frank. It was a mixture of cheap laundry detergent and a little of his spicy aftershave. He rarely wore the stuff, but you deducted he probably put it on for tonight. What kind of fucking weirdo put on expensive aftershave just to creep around on his former lover's balcony? Frank. The answer was Frank. Just...quintessentially him.

"You really hate the look of me in his clothes, huh?" you teased.

"You looked cold," Frank lied. "Does Ron give you his hoodies?"

"He'd give me his damn wardrobe if I asked."

He snorted. "Yeah, okay. I'm glad to see you that you still enjoy dancing around important conversations-"

"- you know I love you, Frank," you cut him off. "But I'm not skipping into the fucking sunset with you at 1AM when it's freezing as shit outside. Especially not when there's a man on my couch, who thinks I'm making a cup of tea when I'm actually kissing a man out on the fire escape."

"I love you too," Frank gave you a lopsided grin, completely ignoring the second half of what you said. "I'll come back in the morning."

"Yeah, okay," you pressed another kiss to his jaw. "See you then."

You slipped your hands away from Frank's, sliding your legs back through the window and onto the kitchen counter. Leaping off the side, you shut the window and reached to turn on the kettle - you did have the whole cup of tea lie to keep up with.

And with a smile on your face, you reached for the chipped Coney Island mug on your shelf.

[cinnamonest]

Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask.  Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

[robininthelabyrinth]

3. I have no idea if this time line would work, but MYX and XY get attached to each other, so when the time comes that MYX and XY need to leave Koi Tower, JGY helps them get married in secret and run away to Dongu. Anyways, a few years latter, JGY has a kid that needs to go and people in a removed location that owe him favors! Isn’t that a wonderful combination! A Jin(?) Rusong raised by Uncles Mo and Xue, or whatever they go by these days, would be very chaotic. Bonus: they start a relatively safe demonic cultivation sect, maybe with some guidance from the Nie (has NMJ never been killed by the Jin in this Au?), or more specifically, Huaisang. SL and XXC who got a happy ending decide to check out this no blood line sect (it looks slightly dubious, but surely can’t be to bad! Right?) A-Qing at least is enjoying her new friend -🟪🦋

Should Have Been Listening - ao3

“Let go of me.”

“I won’t,” Mo Xuanyu said, clutching Xue Yang’s arm. “I won’t, I won’t! You’re my only friend here!”

Xue Yang looked down at him in what he thought was mostly exasperation, but might have also been a little fondness – after all, if it’d been anyone else who’d grabbed him, he’d have stabbed them.

He still didn’t know why he didn’t stab Mo Xuanyu, too, but in all honesty, he wasn’t that interested in exploring it. He did what he wanted, and right now, he didn’t want to murder Mo Xuanyu.

Irritating as he sometimes was.

“Little brat,” he said. “I have important business to go do.”

“It’s not something that he ordered, though!”

“So what?” Xue Yang bristled. “I don’t just do what hetells me!”

“But that means he won’t cover for you, and that means you’ll get in trouble!” Mo Xuanyu argued. “How can I let you go all alone to get in trouble? You have to take me with you! What will you do without me? Who’ll keep you entertained and sneak sweets for you if not for me?”

Xue Yang’s lips twitched. Okay, maybe there was a reason he kept the brat around.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “This is something I’ve got to do – something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m going to kill a lot of people and get into a lot of trouble, more trouble than ever before. I’ll probably lose my life. How can I possibly take you with me?”

Mo Xuanyu scowled up at him. It was a very weak scowl – barely more than a pout. “You think that’s going to make me not want to come with you?”

Xue Yang’s eyebrows went up. “You cry at the sight of blood!”

“I cry at a lot of things!”

Xue Yang wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, Mo Xuanyu cried at a lot of things.

“Maybe if I come with you, it won’t be so bad!”

Yeeeeah, Xue Yang wasn’t going to count on that.

“Or maybe you don’t have to go…?”

“I have to go,” he explained. “If I don’t go, I can’t get revenge, and I have to have revenge.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked up at him.

“I don’t really understand, but okay,” he said, and tugged on his arm. “Let’s go together, then. I promise I won’t cry!”

-

He cried.

He cried a lot.

-

“Stop fucking crying.”

-

“Just – ugh. Listen. You’re ruining the mood.”

-

“If you can’t stop crying, go away. Now. Or I’ll stab you!”

-

“Okay, see, look, I just killed the leaders, see? Just the old men. Everyone else is just locked in their rooms. Once the sect leader comes back, I’ll kill him too, and that’ll be all. Okay? Everyone else lives. I promise. Now stop crying, okay?”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said when they got back. “I don’t want to know at all.”

“Good,” Xue Yang grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Enough people heard about the reason for what you did that opinions are mixed as to whether your actions were the Chang clan’s just rewards for their former misdeeds or if they were actually wrong,” Jin Guangyao said. He looked irritated. “But you still killed high-ranking members of a sect, and you left enough alive that they’re demanding your head on a platter. You’re going to need to run away.”

Mo Xuanyu hesitantly gestured as if he wished to speak.

“Yes, you can go with him. Now that my father is dead, no one cares where you are.”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“You’re just going to let us go?” Xue Yang asked suspiciously. “That seems unlike you. What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I’m not just going to let you go. I’m going to give you money, too,” Jin Guangyao said. “And all you need to do for me is one little tiny favor –”

Pity that that was when Xue Yang stopped listening, too busy staring at Mo Xuanyu’s delighted face and counting all the way he was in for it now.

-

“I’ve always wanted to take care of a baby,” Mo Xuanyu said happily.

“Good for you,” Xue Yang said darkly as he stalked through the streets.

He would rather that Jin Guangyao had needed a body buried and a death covered up or something – and judging by the baby’s perturbed expression, it probably agreed with him. Fuck, maybe Jin Guangyao had meant for them to murder the baby once they got it far enough out of the way. It was just as plausible as Mo Xuanyu's assumption that they were supposed to take care of it.

Damnit, maybe he should have been listening.

“Listen, neither of us are equipped to handle a baby. Go find a woman to help us – someone poor and helpless who doesn’t have any other choice.”

“Okay!”

-

Xue Yang shut his eyes. “What exactly,” he said slowly, “did you think I asked you to get us a woman for, exactly?”

“To…watch the baby?” Mo Xuanyu guessed. “When we’re busy or sleeping? Anyway, what’s wrong with A-Qing, anyway? She’s nice!”

“I’m not nice,” A-Qing said. The damn brat was smirking – and for once it wasn’t his damn brat, but some blind brat with a cocky expression. “I stole your wallet and you burst into tears and it was really embarrassing.”

“He does that,” Xue Yang said wearily. At least he’d noticed the theft this time – all of his lessons in ‘how not to be a sucker and get constantly taken advantage of’ were maybe having something of an impact. Maybe. “For some reason I’m apparently into it.”

He couldn’t explain it any other way.

“…loser.”

“I will stab you,” Xue Yang threatened. “I don’t care if you’re blind.”

“Won’t someone tell me why A-Qing isn’t a perfectly good babysitter?” Mo Xuanyu demanded. He was holding the baby in his arms again – the baby liked him more than it did Xue Yang, which meant that between Mo Xuanyu and the baby, the baby had better self-preservation instincts – and he was trying his best stern scowl which was of course barely more than a pout and a so-called ‘fierce’ expression that made Xue Yang want to laugh.

Not even Mo Xuanyu’s horrific make-up skills could make thatface intimidating. Or maybe it was just that the person behind the face was just so completely unthreatening that there was no help for it?

“Well? Tell me!”

Xue Yan opened his mouth, then shrugged and shut it again.

A-Qing patted Mo Xuanyu on the shoulder. “I’m too young. No milk.”

“…milk?”

“You know. The thing babies eat?”

“…milk,” Mo Xuanyu repeated, only now he looked absolutely heartbroken at having failed the mission that Xue Yang had assigned him almost entirely just to get him out of the way while Xue Yang collected some spare cash and threatened their way onto a ride out of this piece of shit town.

“It’s fine,” Xue Yang said hastily. “We’ll just get a goat or something, I don’t know.”

“Okay, I actually only came here to laugh at you,” A-Qing said. “But now I’m legitimately worried about this baby. Don’t you two know anything? How’d you even get a baby, anyway?”

-

“Stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”

-

“Seriously. Stop laughing, or I stab you.”

“Don’t worry, A-Qing,” Mo Xuanyu said. “He doesn’t mean it! Threats are just how he expresses affection!”

“It most certainly is not.”

“That is absolutely amazing,” A-Qing said, wiping her eyes. “Best thing I’ve ever heard., if by best I mean worse-but-hilarious. I mean. If that’s what he considers affection, what must his flirting be like?”

“No one is flirting with anyone!”

-

“Are you going to leave at some point?”

“Obviously not,” A-Qing said. She’d caught the same ride as them, using Xue Yang’s cash no less – Mo Xuanyu had insisted that it was the least they could do after the whole milk misunderstanding, which was stupid, she ought to be paying them for wasting their time. Xue Yang couldn’t wait to get rid of her, although he had to admit that she’d been pretty useful in terms of putting on the ‘poor sad blind girl and her two brothers all alone in the world’ act to get them a room at the inn at prices even Xue Yang felt comfortable paying. “Are you joking? This is so much funnier than walking by myself. Anyway, I enjoy watching people crash and burn.”

“Aren’t you too young to be such a bitch?” Xue Yang hissed. “And, I don’t know, blind?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t care what you –”

The sound of crying came from the other room.

It was quickly followed by a second set of crying.

Xue Yang felt the onset of a headache.

“…truce?” A-Qing suggested sweetly, as if she knew exactly how much it pissed him off and thought it was the funniest thing ever, which was…probably accurate, actually. “I’ll get the baby to stop crying if you do the same with Mo Xuanyu.”

Yeah, that was definitely a headache. The sort of headache called why do I like that brat.

Mo Xuanyu owed him so much candy for putting up with this shit.

“Fine,” Xue Yang said begrudgingly. “Truce. Temporarily. And then you leave!”

-

“So we live here now, huh?” A-Qing said, looking around the house they’d claimed. “That’s neat.”

“Why do you live with us again?” Xue Yang asked her, though by now he barely even meant it. A-Qing was clearly another one in the same mold as Mo Xuanyu: you just couldn’t say no to her…or, rather, you could, at length and top volume and with threats, only it just didn’t stick. “I definitely did not recall asking you to stay.”

Though it was nice to have someone else around that wasn’t going to get immediately ripped off by literally anyone who came their way. Mo Xuanyu’d started getting conned by the literal infant that they were taking care of – he was completely hopeless.

Also, questionably blind or not, at least A-Qing had no hesitation about beating people with her stick if they struck her the wrong way, which was a life approach Xue Yang agreed with wholeheartedly.

“She’s going to learn to cultivate!” Mo Xuanyu chirped from where he was applying his make-up. “Demonic cultivation, too! We had a whole discussion about it while you were out getting groceries!”

That made a certain amount of sense, Xue Yang supposed. You didn’t need talent to be a demonic cultivator – technically speaking, given his bloodline, Mo Xuanyu was more naturally gifted in cultivation than Xue Yang, which was just wrong on all sorts of levels – and it was certainly more effective a defense mechanism than A-Qing’s stick. If there were two of them, they could protect Mo Xuanyu and the baby more effectively, taking shifts when needed, and Mo Xuanyu, who was also going to learn demonic cultivation no matter how many times Xue Yang had to hammer it into his head, could be the last line of defense, largely since no one would ever expect him to be able to do…anything…and they’d be right, too.

So it wasn’t the craziest idea in the world, only…

“…who is she going to be learning from, exactly!?”

-

“Have you ever considered charging for your skill in teaching cultivation lessons instead of your skill in stabbing people?” A-Qing asked one day. They were lying on the ground and having the corpses they’d raised fan them to try to reduce the temperature – it was that sort of day. Also, Mo Xuanyu, who might’ve objected, wasn’t around. “You’re not actually that bad at this. Might be more profitable, and less work. Just a thought.”

“Shut up. I’m great at stabbing people.”

“Yeah, but then after a while we have to move because people get annoyed at that, and it’s getting a little annoying to have to pack up all the time.”

“We’d have to move anyway. We’re wanted criminals, remember?”

“We could be wanted criminals with a house. Besides, wouldn’t you like to be called Teacher Xue?”

“What? No. Gross.”

-

“So you see, it turns out that they were teaching demonic cultivation in a safe and organized fashion,” Xiao Xingchen explained enthusiastically. “They’d even gathered up their own little sect! And of course everyone heard what the Chang clan did, so there’s no need to worry about them going around and murdering people at random – it was a targeted revenge scheme.”

“We’re working on teaching them regular cultivation,” Song Lan agreed, nodding. “To help mitigate the negative effects of demonic cultivation…well, we started out by just teaching them.”

“It turned out that they’d been secretly teaching all of the local delinquents, too, or at least Mo-gongzi had been teaching a few and Mistress Qing was teaching a few others, and even Sect Leader Xue had a few disciples,” Xiao Xingchen said, politely omitting or possibly having not noticed the fact that Mo Xuanyu had been teaching his ‘friends’ (read: scammers trying to take advantage of him), while A-Qing and Xue Yang had each been trying to form competing gangs and/or obtain lackeys. Xue Yang didn’t mind the oversight, largely on account of the fact that A-Qing had been winning, damn her – he’d kept getting distracted by inventing new things. “And a few of them had real talent – and you know that Zichen and I have always wanted to start a sect of our own, with no bloodline ties –”

“We’re joining their sect,” Song Lan said. “We’ll be leading the orthodox side, while they lead the demonic cultivation aspect – safely, of course.”

“I guess it’s better than them being crazy,” Jiang Cheng said. He sounded dubious. “I don’t like it, but at least all the demonic cultivators can be in one spot, you know?”

He made it sound like they’d be dropping off new ones there in the future.

Like they’d opened up some sort of pet rescue and were taking in unwanted puppies or something.

“Agreed,” Nie Mingjue said. “To the extent that they aren’t causing active harm, containment seems an appropriate remedy here. Who seconds the motion?”

“I do,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled at the newly agreed-upon sect. “Welcome back to the cultivation world, Sect Leader Xue.”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said, glaring.

“Don’t worry,” Xue Yang told him. “This comes as much of a shock to me as to you.”

The glare intensified, but that was fine. Jin Guangyao’s facial expressions, however minor and generally overlooked, had been the only thing getting him through that awful, awful meeting just now where people kept trying to salute him and make him salute back and if he didn’t then he was letting down Mo Xuanyu (who would send him a sad look) and A-Qing (who would hear about it from Mo Xuanyu later and then find a way to step on his foot right when he was concentrating on something).

Not to mention their two new resident lovebirds, who looked so righteous and proper from the outside but who also may or may not have accidentally full-on actually resurrected some dead asshole cultivator more or less the first time they’d joined Xue Yang in his demonic cultivation laboratory – which would have been fine, you know, that happened in demonic cultivation though not normally to quite such a wow-is-he-actually-alive extent, except that the guy’s intermittent moments of clarity suggested that his two new sect members might have just brought back the Yiling Patriarch himself, which was going to make all of them wanted criminal again the second anyone found out about it.

Ugh.

Being called sect leader was completely not worth this shit.

Xue Yang comforted himself with the reminder that later today he was planning on publicly introducing Jin Guangyao to the Xue sect’s head junior disciple “Xue Song” and announcing loudly that the brat needed some lessons in manners, that he’d heard that that was Lianfeng-zun’s specialty, and nominating him to take care of the kid while they were visiting.

See how the fucker liked that.

“I always knew Xue-gege could do great things!” Mo Xuanyu said, clapping his hands as A-Qing rolled her (by now, Xue Yang was almost definitely sure not actually blind) eyes behind his back. “As long as I went with him!”