#they care about each other so much i could cry

[activesplooger]

ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ | ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ | ꜱᴍᴜᴛ 18+

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) ITS DONNEEEE!! omg guys i literallyyyy akjbfkwjefhkbwefk longest fic ever and honestly my favv i had so much fun making this!!! Also, "Papermint" is like the fanon name for Vox's assistant in ep 2

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You got a job working as an assistant for Vox at VoxTech! Though, his behavior is quite strange around you... He's very touchy-feely, a strange thing for the infamous TV demon to do. Oh, well! It's probably nothing (it's not nothing).

ᴄᴡ: obsessive behavior, stalking, yandere, infatuation, voyeurism, smut, body pillows, masturbation, kidnapping, hypnotism

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7,614

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!

"M-Miss L/N?" A nervous sinner in a VoxTech uniform steps out of the office you patiently waited outside of for about an hour now. You smile politely at the employee and nod. "Yes?" you respond. "M-Mr. Vox would like to see you now.". "Great, thanks!" You grab your resume off your lap and slowly walk to the office door. Your hand hovers over the knob as you mentally prepare yourself for the interview on the other side of the door. ‘You’ve got this… Deep breaths… Inhale… Exhale…’.

Candidate after candidate had gone in and out of the office, each coming out with an upset expression, one of them even started crying! The TV Demon had a reputation for being pretty ruthless, but you didn't know it could be that bad. Even the employee that called you in seemed like he was about to crap his pants from all the pressure. You really needed this job. Rent is higher, and income is at an all-time low. You're hoping your less-than-accurate resume was believable.

You take a few deep breaths, 'C'mon, I've got this! I can handle it... I hope...'. After managing to calm down, you plaster on a wide grin and open the door.

“Hi, Mr. Vox! I’m here for the interview.”

— Earlier...

Velvette rolls his eyes as she walks into Vox's office, "Ugh, are you seriously still spying on that saggy old radio fuck?". Vox sat in his office chair, eyes fixed on the Radio Demon displayed from different angles on various monitors. A few swears were muttered under Vox's breath before prying his eyes away from the screen. Spinning his chair around, he slaps on a faux customer service smile, "Velvette! What can I do for you this sinful afternoon, my dear?". A scoff escapes her mouth, "How long are you gonna let this little Alastor obsession run your life? You're supposed to be interviewing new assistants, not stalking some poor hair-styled geriatric fuck! Get it together!". Vox was only half listening, focusing on the screen with Alastor more than the furious overlord before him. Click Click Velvette snaps her fingers in front of the distracted TV Demon. Vox waves a dismissive hand in response, "Yeah, yeah, I'll have Papermint take care of it...". "You really think Papermint can handle that, darling?" A look of realization spreads across Vox's face, "Fuck, you're right. I'll deal with it.". "Attaboy!" The Fashion Overlord praises with a satisfied grin before exiting the office. An annoyed scowl spreads across Vox's face once she leaves. He gets one last look at The Radio Demon displayed throughout the monitors, "Until next time...". __

After countless interviews, Vox was at the end of his rope. Each candidate wasn't qualified in some aspect according to Vox's standards. 'Too eager.' 'Too little experience.'. Some of them simply had an "unlikable face" according to him and sent them out before the interview could even start. "S-Sir?" Papermint hesitantly speaks, "Would you like me to send in the next applicant..?" Vox sighs, "Papermint, let me ask you this. Have I hired anyone yet?" "N-No..." "Then, ɎɆS ɎØᵾ ƗNȻØMⱣɆŦɆNŦ WȺSŦɆ ØF ȺƗɌ. ŦĦƗS ƗS WĦɎ Ɨ ĦȺVĘ ŦØ ǤɆŦ ŦWØ ȺSSƗSŦȺNŦS."

Papermint trembles as sparks of electricity emanating from his angry boss fly toward him, "S-Sorry, Sir! I'll bring them in right away!".

Vox rolls his eyes as Papermint goes to fetch his next victim applicant. You open the door and walk in with a warm smile, the mere sight of you causing Vox to choke on his own spit.

“Hi Mr. Vox! I’m here for the interview.”

—

You place your resume on his desk and sit down on the chair in front of it. The wires in Vox’s head nearly short circuit, unable to comprehend you. You clear your throat in an attempt to cut the initial tension and silence, “Ahem-“

The TV Demon snaps out of his trance and picks up your resume, “Ah, Miss Y/N! Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too, Sir!”

“Please,” he flashes a charming grin, “Call me Vox, doll.”. You smile and nod, “Nice to meet you, Vox.”. The sound of his name on your lips sent shivers down Vox's spine.

He regains his composure and clears his throat, “So, I see you have some experience assisting other overlords. What made you want to be a co-assistant to me at Voxtech?". “I’m sorry, co-assistant?” you ask.

“Yes,” Vox gestures to Papermint standing idly in a corner, “This one over here will also be my assistant. You’ll handle the more personal needs of mine while Papermint handles more business-related needs.”. “I see."

Vox, completely entranced by you, puts your resume down and extends a hand out to you across the desk, “Well, that’s all I really need! Congratulations! You got the job!”. Winning sound effects could be heard from Vox’s speakers as he congratulated you. “Oh! I-Is that it..? No questions..?” you inquire. Was he joking? “Nope, I’ve seen enough," he states firmly.

"Actually," a sly smile creeps out from his teeth, "what size are you?”

“Uh, why?”

“For your uniform of course!”

— You could've sworn the uniform you received was 1-2 sizes smaller than you said you were. The uniform consists of a navy and turquoise pinstripe mini skirt, a low-cut white blouse fitted with a red tie, and black sheer stockings. “I look like one of those clown robot sex toy things…”. Looking in the mirror, you felt very exposed... It wasn't any more slutty than the stuff you'd usually wear, but that was exactly the problem. Why was your work uniform so revealing? You looked like one of Valentino's pornstars rather than a Voxtech employee. No doubt, you looked killer. But, it's still very strange.

"Eh... Whatever. I'm overthinking it." you reassure yourself. __

"Yes, YES! SHE'S PUTTING IT ON!". Vox presses his face against the screen as he watches you through his monitors. He had gotten an employee to stash hidden cameras in your apartment immediately after your interview. The cameras he used for you were the ones he used for spying on Alastor. It's time for someone new to obsess over, someone better. More attainable.

“Fuck, that’s hot…” Vox's pants start to stretch uncomfortably as he continues watching you. His eyes stay glued to the screen, gaze lingering on the exposed skin peeking out through the skimpy clothing.

His hand travels down to the large concealed bulge, palming himself slowly before looking at the time. “SHIT, She’s gonna be here in an hour!.”. The TV demon springs up from his seat and makes his way to the modeling floor of the Vee Tower.

__

"I don't have time for this!" Velvette exclaims, walking away from Vox. "Come on, Vel," he pleads, "just this once! You do it for Valentino all the time!". She stops in her tracks, turning on her heels sharply to face him, "That's because Valentino has a make-up-applicable face! Not a screen!". Vox chases after her as she walks away. "Velvette," he says with a nervous chuckle, "who said anything about makeup, my dear? Just a little touch-up would be nice!". "If I say yes will you leave me alone?" she asks. "Absolutely!"

Velvette gets some of her workers and assigns them to give Vox a makeover. The employees adorn him in the finest colognes and do his skincare (which is honestly just screen wipes). They tailor his suit to make sure it fits extra perfect and hugs all the right spots. His claws get a nice manicure, having them sharpened and polished to perfection. He's getting all dolled up just for you!

Vox waits patiently in his office for you to arrive, a wide grin on his face as he stares at the door.

__

Unfortunately, you were running a bit late. Traffic in the entertainment district was brutal at 7:00am, everyone's trying to get to work at this hour you suppose. You wish you had known this prior to your first day, but you usually never wake up before 9:00 so you've never seen the morning traffic. Running late on your first day? Very professional.

To make things worse, when you did finally pull in for work, some jackass parked in your designated spot. Prick. You managed to find a spot down the street and quickly back into the space. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you then hop out of your car and sprint down the street as fast as possible.

You never were much of a runner, but determination set you off into a pace you've never reached before. Pushing open the doors, you find the elevators. A crowd of people huddles around it as they all await the next lift. Fuck that. You dart to the stairs and climb them with all your might. 40 flights. Maybe you should've waited for the elevator.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, you sluggishly pull yourself up the next step. You take a moment to collect yourself and take some deep breaths before running into his office. Bursting open the doors, you sprint down the walkway yelling, "I'M HERE!".

"I *wheeze* am soooooo sorry for being late sir," you apologize, hoping you weren't automatically fired for this, "traffic was horrible and someone took my spot and I'm so sorry, sir!".

__

Vox had patiently waited an hour in his office for you, anxiously waiting your arrival. Paranoid thoughts of you not showing up ate away at him as he stared at the door in front of him, waiting for you to walk in in all of your glory. His smile never faded, of course, his customary showman grin plastered on his face. Occasionally, he'd glance into the reflection of a monitor, checking his appearance. Did he look good enough? He sure hoped he did.

And then, finally, you come bustling through the door. Your hair is messy, loose strands falling from your neat ponytail. The uniform was a bit disheveled, but still. Holy shit.

__

The TV demon chuckles softly, putting up a hand to stop your rambling, "No worries, my dear, I understand.". How could he ever be mad at you? To him, you're absolute perfection. "Really?" a smile spreads across your face. "Thank you so much, sir," you beam, "it won't happen again I promise!".

"It better not!" he teases, a bark of laughter escaping him. "You know," he adds, "to avoid this little issue again, why don't I give you a ride sometime?". "No no," you protest, waving your hands as a declining gesture, "I couldn't ask you to go out of your way to do that. I'm supposed to assist you.". "Nonsense, my dear," he insists, "it wouldn't be out of the way at all!".

He's certainly very accommodating to you, but why? Wasn't he supposed to be the infamous horrifying TV overlord you've heard all about? Maybe it's just exaggerated gossip, after all, he seemed like a nice guy! Maybe too nice. "But, don't you live here..? Wouldn't it be a little inconvenient to drive all the way to my place and back?".

You got him there, he really had no reason to go out of his way for that without raising suspicion. His smile falters slightly, his voice a bit quieter now, "Yes, of course. That makes more sense...". It goes quiet for a moment, Vox projecting sweat on his screen as he's nervous that he already screwed everything up.

He clears his throat and throws on a fake grin, "Anyways! How about we get you started on your first task, hm?". You nod, grabbing out your notepad and pen, and getting ready to write down whatever he says.

"Let's see," he taps a sharp turquoise claw to his screen, "how about you start with running a few errands for me? I'll write down a list of groceries for you to fetch. Vox jots down a few items on a post-it and rips it off before handing it to you. You grab the list and nod, "Yes, Mr. Vox.".

Truthfully, he didn't want you to do anything. Preferably, he'd have you perched on his lap like a pretty little trophy. But alas, that wasn't exactly a normal thing to ask of your new employee so, he settled with groceries for now.

__

Heading back into your car, you drive to the store of choice, Hellwhon. Personally, you think that store is gaudy and outrageously overpriced. But, hey, if you were as rich as Vox you'd probably shop there too! "Alright. Sushi, dolphin meat, coffee beans, and redbull..." you repeat to yourself, trying to memorize the list of bizarre groceries. Man, rich people are weird…

Despite your opinions on the abnormality of the upper class, you happily comply in buying the groceries.

__

Unbeknownst to you, Vox had been watching you the whole time. Street lamps, drones, security cameras, etc., were all Voxtech-owned and therefore can be monitored by the TV demon himself. All eyes were on you.

Alastor, his previous infatuation, was now completely disregarded by Vox. He cleared out his shrine of the Radio Demon and made way for a new one, you. Only you, always you. Previous body pillows, photos, and posters of Alastor were replaced by custom-made merch of you.

He'd taken screenshots of you from his surveillance cameras and plastered them onto body pillows. Nude, clothed, and uniformed photos of your likeness got printed and sent to a VoxTech manufacturer for some poor employee to make. The TV demon spent hundreds of dollars on products in your likeness: candles with your face on them, framed photos, etc. His infatuation is growing, and it's growing fast.

__ Heavy grocery bags fill your arms as you approach the V tower. Pressing your back against the heavy glass doors, you struggle to open them. Vox's other assistant, Papermint, notices your struggle from the lobby and hastily opens the door for you. "Thank you," you breathe out. He nods and gestures for the groceries, "N-No problem! Let me get that for you-". You turn your arms away, "Oh, I've got it. Thanks though!".

As much as you wanted help, you had to do it on your own You needed to prove yourself after showing up an hour late on your first day. Vox needs to know that you're capable of this job!

Your arms start to give out the longer you hold the heavy plastic bags. "Fuck," you mutter to yourself, "why didn't I just accept his help?". After an agonizing wait in the crowded elevator, you finally reach the penthouse floor.

Scurrying across the penthouse, you reach the high-tech, lavish kitchen. You sort all the groceries into their respective cupboards or shelves, except the dolphin meat, you weren't sure where that hell went.

__

Vox's head snaps towards the door as he hears you enter his office. "Hi, Mr. Vox," you say with a wide smile, "so sorry to bother I just have a quick question...". Vox beams as you enter, turning his full attention to you, "Yes, Doll?". "I wasn't sure what to do with this," you gesture to the package of dolphin meat. "Oh, right," he explains, striding closer towards you. He gestures his arms to the array of sharks surrounding his below office, “It’s for the fish, of course!”.

Right, the "fish". He glances down at the techy sharks before looking back at you, "Wanna feed them?". His eyes light up at the prospect of this. A hot, sexy woman feeding his precious little sharks?! He fought the urge to fuck you then and there.

"Uh," you hesitate, having the slightest fear of sharks, "maybe another time.". "C'mon," he insists, stepping closer to you. Large hands find the small of your back and guide you to the edge of the platform. "They won't bite..." he whispers in your ear softly, his hot breath hitting your skin.

Fuck. You couldn't say no now! Not with your boss all insistent and close to you like this. You swallow as you brace yourself to face your fears. Glancing down at the package of dolphins, you struggle to tear open the plastic wrap. Maybe if you procrastinated enough with the packaging, he'd let it go and get his soft hands off your waist. Shit, were you turned on or scared? Either way you needed to get this over with ASAP!

Taking a step forward, Vox reluctantly releases his grip on you. You hold out the food far out in front of you and plop it into the water. Sharks splash and surround the meat, fighting viciously for it.

You shuffled back rapidly away from the aquarium and bumped into your boss, "Shit!". His firm chest presses up against your back, hands gripping your waist to keep you in place. "Careful now, sweetheart," he whispers in a husky voice. Fuck, that was hot.

You quickly regain your composure and step back to maintain a professional distance between the two of you, "Yes, sir! I-I'm so sorry!". "No apology necessary, Doll," he says with half-lidded eyes and a casual smile. You were for sure fired for this, despite his reassuring words. You were late, reluctant to do what he asked, and now you're kind of turned on by your boss. What kind of assistant are you?! "I guess I'll get back to work. A-Anything you need? Coffee? Tea?".

"Hm," he ponders for a moment, "do me a favor and organize the pantry in my penthouse.". "Yes, sir!" you say, quickly running out of his office and to his penthouse. Phew. Finally, you're out of that humiliating situation.

__

Vox didn't need his pantry organized. His penthouse is practically spotless! Truthfully, he just needed you occupied for a while so he could revel in the lingering scent of you on his clothes. As soon as you're out of sight, he scrambles to his desk and whips out his surveillance footage. He'd already had his favorite clips of you compiled into a file named "<3". In said file, there are various videos of you roaming around doing routine tasks. He'd save it into the file whenever you looked particularly cute or ravishing.

Vox scrolls through the file and clicks on different videos and screenshots compiled in it. "Hnnf, yes," he moans out, unbuckling his belt with haste. He quickly slides down his pants and boxers, freeing his aching navy cock. Pre-cum leaked through his tip and slid down the side of his hefty shaft. Shrugging his coat off, he sniffs the place where you'd been previously pressed against. He takes in the scent, trying to smell every trace of your scent that lingered on his clothes.

His hand wraps around his length and squeezes tightly. He closes his eyes as he pumps himself, imagining your pretty little hand wrapped around him, "Fuck, Y/N... That's it, Doll...". The pace of his movements increases while inhaling your scent on his jacket with desperate fervor. Prying his eyes open, he looks at the monitor displaying your likeness.

He drops the jacket and reaches for his computer mouse. Scrolling through the file, he finds the video he's looking for, a video of you in the shower. A grin spreads across the TV demon's screen, "Hah, fuck... So fucking perfect, gonna make you mine.". He pumps his hand faster, hips bucking into his own hands as he chases his release. "Fuck, fuck, fuck FUUCK," buckets of cum pour all over his hand as his orgasm crashes over him.

He grabs a couple wipes and cleans himself up, wishing he had you there to lick him clean. Slumping back into the chair, a frown spreads across his face. His focus is fixed on the screen with longing in his eyes. Staring at the monitors, he reaches out, putting a hand onto the screen, "Why can't you be mine...?".

__

The rest of the week droned on pretty monotonously. Despite a few tasks that would take you tops 5 minutes here and there, you didn't have much to do. You'd insist on helping Vox with whatever, but rest assured, he always claimed that there was simply nothing to do. And while it's great to sit around all day in your Boss's fancy office, it does get boring and a little strange. Why did Vox even hire you in the first place? It seemed like he didn't need you.

One day, you're out on a coffee run for Vox. Of course, he insisted that you buy something for yourself on him. You make your way down to the food court in the lobby and grab two coffees, one large black coffee, and a small iced latte. On your way back, you run into Vox's other assistant, Papermint. "Hey," you greet him, "how's it going?".

The demon looked nervous and stressed out. He gives you a shaky smile, "H-Hey there.". He almost immediately darts away after he speaks. You follow after him, "Wait up!". Why'd he run away from you? Did you say something wrong?

He stops in his tracks and sighs, unaware of the fact that you're right behind him. You tap him on the shoulder. The sinner jumps at the contact of your hand on his back, "Ah! Y-You're still here...". He nervously chuckles, to which you raise an eyebrow, "Uh, yeah! I was hoping to chat, actually. I'm pretty bored around here.". He stammers, "B-Bored? H-Here?". "Uh huh..." you confirm. Maybe you should've let this guy run away, he didn't seem very stable-

"Y-You're not tasked with an impossible list of things to do?!" he asks, gripping your shoulders tightly. "What, no? I've barely had anything to do all week!" you reply, trying to gently pry yourself from his grip. He realizes his intense embrace and lets you go, eyes scanning the surrounding area as if he were making sure nobody was watching. Papermint leans in closely and whispers, "You're telling me you have had no work?". You nod. He takes a deep breath, speaking in a strained voice, "I have had the same, if not more, work than before. Hiring you was supposed to alleviate some of my workload...".

"I-I'm sorry," you squeak. He shakes his head, "No, it's not your fault...". Whipping his head back, he looks at the security camera facing directly toward him, "C-Crap, I've got to go!". Before you can protest, he darts out of sight, the camera turning its head to follow his every move.

What the fuck was that?

__ A scowl forms on Vox's face as he watches you and Papermint through the live security feed, "I thought I told that քʀɨƈӄ to never speak to you...". His eyes stay fixed on the screen, electricity sparking from his screen as his anger simmers. It seems Papermint needs a "friendly talking to".

__

You made your way back up to Vox's office a bit after your strange encounter with Papermint. Balancing the two coffees in one arm, you used the other arm to push open the office door. The door doesn't budge open. Huh, weird...

Pressing your ear to the door, you hear yelling and the commotion of objects being thrown. You can't exactly make out what's being said, however, it was clear Vox was the one yelling. He sounded pissed.

Moments later, you hear the yelling stop, along with footsteps getting louder as they reach the door. Stepping back from the door, Papermint emerges, bruised and limping, sporting a dark black eye. You reach your hand out to him, to which he flinches. "Are you-" Before you can finish, his eyes widen in fear, and he limps away as fast as he can.

Shit, was this your fault? You were supposed to be picking up Papermint's slack. He probably got in trouble for wasting time and talking to you. Maybe you should talk to Vox about picking up your dead weight...

A shakey hand reaches out to push open the door, a determined look on your face. Vox is hunched over his desk, the room disheveled with a few objects lying broken on the floor. "Sir?"

He turns over with a deranged look. His expression softens as he sees you, a smile stretching across his face as he straightens his posture, "Ah, there you are! My favorite assistant? What do you need, Doll?". "Actually," you take a deep breath, stealing yourself for the conversation ahead, "I wanted to talk about something.". He tilts his head and nods, gesturing for you to continue.

"Well, I-I want to start doing more around here. I feel like I don't do much," looking up at him, you try to gauge his reaction. He sighs, narrowing his eyes as he speaks, "Did Papermint say something to try to guilt trip you into doing more work? Because if he did I-".

"No, no, no!" you interrupt. You start pacing in small circles as you find the words to express yourself, "What I mean is, I feel as if I don't do enough. I-I'm your assistant, I want to assist you... and I guess I feel as if I'm failing...".

Terror flashes across Vox's face. Failing?! His perfect little assistant?! The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel bad, he just wanted you to relax at work instead of stressing out over work, "What? No, uh, here! I'll assign you something very important!". A wave of relief washes over you, "Really?". He nods, chuckling nervously as he scrambles to find a task for you. Scrolling through the calendar on his computer, he finds something for you to do, "Ah, here we are!". He turns to you with a composed grin, "I have a meeting today at 4:00. Now, I understand that it's last minute, and it's not the type of duties that you usually do-". "I'll do it!" you say with a smile.

Vox lets out a satisfied hum, "Good girl.". He clacks away on his keyboard for a moment before turning back to face you, "I've sent you an email regarding all the information you'll need to present at the meeting.". "Great! You won't regret this Mr. Vox!" you beam.

__

As you step into the conference room, a sense of purpose fills the air. The long table, polished to a shine, invites collaboration, while the chairs await their occupants. You methodically arrange the seating, making sure everyone will have a comfortable spot and a good view of the presentation.

Eventually, a few of VoxTech's affiliates walk in and wait for you to present. "Hi, I'm Y/N," you introduce with a wide smile, "I'll be here in place of Vox today!". A couple of the demons give you a skeptical look. "Rest assured, I know everything there is to know! So if you'd just look over here," you point to the presentation displayed on the flatscreen at the head of the room.

As you present, you find yourself reaching over the table often, causing the skimpy uniform to ride up in the back. And while you tried to fix it, it looked a bit odd for you to fidget with your skirt hem every 5 seconds. So, you let it ride up. Nobody would see you anyway since they're faced the opposite way, so no worries! Right?

__

Vox leaned back in his office chair, his eyes glued to the live feed on his computer monitors. You were currently bent over the conference table, your short skirt riding up and exposing the skin of your ass as you worked diligently on the presentation. Vox's needy cock twitches in his trousers at the sight, his mind filled with dirty fantasies.

He imagines running his hands over your toned body, gripping your hips as he fucks you hard against the table. He reaches down to unzip his pants, freeing the heavy erection from the confines of his pants. His cock springs out as he pulls down his boxers, beads of pre-cum leaking from the turquoise tip.

His breathing grew heavier as he watched you, imagining all the filthy things he wanted to do to that beautiful body... Bend you over the desk and pound into your tight cunt until you scream. Suck on those perfect tits while he fingered your dripping slit... make you beg for his cock like the desperate slut you are…

Vox starts stroking himself, "Fuck, so pretty...". He whimpers as he pumps his cock faster, watching as more and more of your ass unknowingly gets exposed. Pressing a button, the segment clips and loops over and over. Releasing his shaft, he opens a cabinet where a body pillow of you is stuffed inside. Positioning the pillow of you under him, he starts humping the pillow, rubbing his shaft against the soft fabric.

His eyes flicker back to the screen, a dopey blissed-out smile across his face, "Hnnf, so naughty... Showing off for me like that...". Hips buck against the pillows vigorously as he approaches orgasm. Unbridled moans and grunts leave his lips, not bothering to keep his voice down in case others might hear. With a final thrust, cum shoots across the pillow, painting your printed self.

Slumping against the chair, he wipes the cum off himself and the pillow with a tissue, "Let's get you all cleaned up, Princess.". With a satisfied sigh, he tenderly gathers the used tissues, disposing of them discreetly in the wastebasket at his feet. Then, cradling the soiled pillow close, he brings it to his face, he inhales deeply as if trying to somehow get your scent. A contented smile plays on his lips as he nestles the pillow against him, the soft fabric relaxing his body after the aftershocks of his orgasm.

For a moment, he relaxes, sitting perched on the chair as he cuddles the pillow. But soon enough, reality sets in. With a sigh, he tucks the soiled pillow away in a dresser drawer and pulls up his pants. He grimaces, realizing his underwear is damp from precum. Ugh, he needs to do laundry. Grabbing both the pillowcase and his soiled boxers, he strides out of his office and makes his way up the elevator to his penthouse. __

Meanwhile, the meeting had gone very well! Despite the minor wardrobe malfunction, you got through your presentation quickly and efficiently! Hopefully, this alleviated at least one task of Papermint's plate... every time you thought of what happened to him you got a horrible stomach ache.

You clean up the conference room and head to Vox's office with news from how the meeting went. Damn it, the door's locked again! Trepidation filled you as the worst possible scenario plagued your thoughts. Did Papermint get in trouble because of you again?!

You listen in through the door and hear a loud voice. However, it wasn't exactly yelling... it was more akin to moaning. "The fuck's going on in there?" you mutter to yourself. An unnerving chill crawls down your spine, "Ugh, I don't even want to know.".

Instead, you take the elevator to his penthouse and make yourself busy there, cleaning, organizing, and whatever else that could keep you busy.

__ Vox walks into the penthouse, panic settling in as he sees you cleaning the sink. Quickly hiding the cum-soaked items behind his back, he flashes a nervous grin. "Oh! H-Hey! What are you doing here?" he asks with a nervous chuckle.

You set down the dish in your hand and smile, "Just cleaning up. You were busy in your office so I occupied myself with some tasks.". The color nearly drains from his screen as you mention him being "busy" in his office, "Right right... You didn't happen to walk into my office, did you?". You shake your head no. "Good, good," he says with a relieved sigh.

The two of you stand there in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say. Vox shuffles awkwardly to the side towards the laundry room, "Don't mind me, I just need to wash a few things.". Tearing off a paper towel, you dry off your hands, "Oh! Let me do that for you-". You walk towards him but he backs away, "No!" he blurts out louder than intended. "I- Ahem, what I mean is," he starts sweating, nervous that you'll find out about his perverted venture, "I can wash them myself! No need to halt your duties, my dear.". "Uh, okay..." you comply, confused about why he's so adamant about this. What's he hiding?

Vox walks backward into the laundry room, shutting the door in front of him with an awkward kick. "Alright, that was super normal," you mutter to yourself sarcastically, "just another normal day with my normal boss."

Walking back to the sink, you resume cleaning the dishes. After around 5 minutes, Vox walks out of the laundry room, checking you out from behind. A husky low voice calls out from behind you, "Bye, Doll.". You turn your head back and see Vox standing by the door. "Bye, Mr. Vox," you reply with a polite smile.

The TV demon practically melted into a puddle at your warm expression. He takes one last longing look at you before leaving the penthouse __

An hour or so passes, and you hear the beeping of the washing machine. At first, you ignore the sound. You really should respect your boss' privacy. The machine continues to beep, the relentless noise testing your nosy tendencies.

Maybe you could just switch the clothes into the dryer, that wouldn't be nosy! It'd be the responsible thing to do as his assistant. Once you justify your snooping, you walk into the laundry room with an air of confidence in your decisions.

The door of the washing machine swings open. Hmm, it just looks like a few pieces of clothing. You reach out and grab the wet articles of fabric. The first one you look at is a simple pair of navy boxers. 'Pft, maybe he pissed himself or something,' you chuckle at the thought.

The discovery sends a chill down your spine as you inspect the pillow, fingers brushing against the soft fabric. It was you. A bizarre photo of you that you hadn't seen before. A wave of nausea washes over you as you take in the unmistakable resemblance - the same shade of hair, the curve of your neck, even the subtle blemishes in your skin. Your mind reels, trying to process this unsettling discovery. Why would Vox keep such a disturbing object? Was it some kind of fetish of his? Your breath comes in short gasps as you stare at the pillow, your eyes tracing over the photo that evokes a haunting familiarity.

Suddenly, a hand grabs at your waist and another at your neck. "You really weren't supposed to see that," the familiar whisper sends a chill down your spine. You try to explain yourself, but you can't seem to find the words. Your flight or fight response kicks in. Flight.

You attempt to pry yourself from his firm hold on you, but your attempts are futile. "You're not going anywhere, princess," he stares into your eyes with his hypnotic red glowing eye. Your vision blurs, your mind going numb as the room starts to spin.

__

Your eyes blink open, your head throbbing as you wake up. Looking around, the surroundings were familiar of sorts, you just couldn't put it together. Your fuzzy mind works overtime to figure out where you are. It's a bedroom. A lavish one at that. It's sleek and modern and, frankly, quite boring. Blue and red accents are scattered around the room. Blue and red... Wait, this is Vox's bedroom. In that instant, everything became clear — the cloth covering your mouth, the ropes bound around your waist and wrists, securing you to the chair.

"Someone's awake," a voice coos into your ear. Your muffled screams do nothing to help you, the TV demon looking back at you with an unfazed grin. A single tear rolls down your cheek, fearing the worst. Would he kill you? Would he torture you?

"Shh, don't cry," he wipes the tear off your cheek with his thumb, hand cradling your face as he tries to soothe you, "You're safe with me, don't worry, Doll.". Safe?! Was that a joke?! You shoot him a glare.

He cups your face in his hands, "Don't look at me like that, Y/N.". Tracing a finger along your jawline, he tilts your face up towards him, "You look beautiful like this, all tied up and helpless.". Fear twists your stomach into knots as you meet Vox's gaze, searching for any hint of humanity in his eyes. His claws rake through your hair, hands finding the knot at the back of the cloth. He unties it, freeing your mouth from the confines of the tight fabric. "What do you want from me?!" you gasp out.

Vox chuckled, the sound sending a chill down your spine, "Oh, princess, I think you know exactly what I want. I've wanted it for so long now.". His fingers drifted lower, brushing against the top of your breast through your blouse.

Trepidation and anxiety course through your veins, sweat building up on your skin. You try to squirm away, but the ropes binding you to the chair only dig deeper into your skin, making you wince. "Please, stop..." you whisper helplessly.

"C'mon, don't try to deny how enticing life with me would be," he explains in a low voice, "I'd take care of you, you wouldn't have to worry about work or money ever again.". He circles around behind you, soft hand massaging your shoulders as he speaks into your ear, "You wouldn't have to live in that crappy apartment anymore. No more worrying about rent, food, anything. It'd all be taken care of.". You turn your head and meet his gaze, your expression unconvinced. He scowls at your expression, red rings appearing in his eye in a pattern. Shit, he's trying to hypnotize you. You have to fight it.

"You will be mine. Your role here at VoxTech has changed, alright?" he commands, the once repulsive idea now sounding strangely enticing. You close your eyes and shake your head, "No! Stop, you can't manipulate me like this.". He scoffs, tired of hearing your rejections, "Oh, be serious! Do you really wanna live out the rest of your afterlife being nothing? Face it, without me, you can't get out of the dull life you have.". As much as you wanted to yell at him, tell him he was wrong, you didn't... You hated yourself for even considering his deal. On one hand, you'd be with someone unfathomably unstable... on the other, you'd be financially stable for the first time in your life... you'd be protected and loved, something you've never had. "...Fine," you hesitantly agree.

Vox reaches out to untie the rope around you, "Good girl.". He takes your hand and guides you to his bed, sitting you down on his lap, "See? That wasn't so hard.". He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "This is where you belong, Doll. Isn't that right?".

He takes note of your lack of response, grabbing your chin roughly to look at him, "Answer me when I talk to you.". Swallowing your pride, you nod, "Okay.". Vox releases his grip on your chin and smiles softly. He moves in closer and kisses you tenderly while combing his claws through your hair. His kisses were surprisingly soft and loving, yet you couldn't bring yourself to kiss him back.

Hands snake down to your blouse, unbuttoning it until your chest is exposed. Grabbing your wrists, he guides your hands to his jacket, silently asking you to undress him as well. You comply, sliding the jacket off his torso and reaching around his neck to unite his bowtie. The TV demon watches you with adoring eyes, biting his lip softly at the sight. To him, doing this was a sign that you actually wanted him.

"Arms up," you command softly. He obeys with a delighted smile. Slipping the vest over his head, you take off his dress shirt and discard the clothes onto the floor. His chest was surprisingly toned... Not a bad sight to be honest.

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Like what you see?”. You roll your eyes. Vox smirks and leans in for another kiss, mashing his lips against yours feverishly. He moans softly against your lips, laying you down on the bed until he's hovering over you.

Hands trail down your chest and to your skirt, pulling it down with your stockings and panties. Once fully undressed, his eyes widen with admiration, gently reaching out to cup your breast in his palm, "Finally... Mine".

Vox kneads your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peak into hard little buds. Leaning down, Vox captures your lips in a brutal kiss, forcing his tongue past your teeth to claim your mouth.

"I've dreamed of this," Vox rasps against your skin, his free hand sliding down to grasp your thigh. Your body betrays you, an uncomfortable slick building between your thighs, causing you to squirm. He smiles softly at your fidgeting, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you, princess.". His fingers find your sensitive nub, rubbing firm circles that send shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your core. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction and more pressure.

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as the coil of tension within you winds tighter. Vox's fingers never faltered, driving you closer to the brink with each passing second. Suddenly, Vox withdrew his hand, leaving you panting and aching with need. You whine softly. "Not yet, Doll," he whispers, "we have all night, and I intend to make every moment count.".

He sits up, legs on either side of you as he unbuttons his trousers and pulls down the zipper. Sliding off his pants, he discards them onto the heap of clothing on the floor. He now sits before you in his boxers, the outline of his hardened cock visible through the fabric. Pre-cum soaking the stretched underwear, your eyes fixed on the damp spot.

The TV demon hooks his claws under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down hastily without hesitation. His cock springs free, the erect member standing tall against his stomach. Vox's cock is impressive, thick, and long, with a prominent vein running along its underside. It's a terrifying and tantalizing sight, the girthy head flushed a bright turquoise, a stark contrast to his navy shaft. The tip leaks beads of pre-cum that glisten in the dim light. He climbs over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "Behold, Doll... My body, a testament to my love for you.".

His hands grab your thighs and spread them apart, revealing your slick pussy to him. He pushes into you slowly, filling your needy hole completely, "Hnnf, so fucking tight.". Hips rock into yours at a leisurely pace, savoring every moment of this. His cock filled you entirely and hit your g-spot just right. You couldn't help the moans that fell from your lips with each thrust.

A smile spreads across his face as he pants, pistoning harder into you now. His fingers find your swollen bud and gather some slick onto it. He rubs slow circles, the added stimulation bringing you closer to orgasm.

He keeps pounding into you, each thrust sending shivers through both their bodies. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with your soft moans, his eyes locked onto yours. His movements became faster, more erratic as he neared his peak. Lewd wet sounds filled the room as he slammed his cock inside of you, "Say you love me...". "Wha?" you look at him confused. "S-Say it!" he commands shakily, his rhythm slowing as if threatening to stop.

"F-Fuck, okay, I love you.".

He reaches up to hold your hand against the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, "Love you more...". Your hips buck up to meet his, craving release. With a loud grunt, Vox buried himself deep inside you as he came, filling you up with his hot seed. Your orgasm follows soon after, walls clenching around his spent cock. His body trembled against yours as he rode out his climax, collapsing on top of you.

The two of you take a moment to collect yourselves before Vox rolls beside you, a giddy smile on his face. You roll over to face him and immediately get pulled onto his chest, hugging you suffocatingly tight. What have you gotten yourself into? Before you can let the regret set in, you fall asleep.

"Goodnight, my love.".

__

Sunlight creeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his bedroom, causing you to stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, still intertwined with Vox. "Shit, what have I done?" you whisper to yourself, dragging your hand down your face. Maybe you could just leave, change your name, and never come to this sector of the pride ring ever again. Carefully, you untwine your body from Vox's and hop off the bed, gathering your clothes off the floor. You slide on your skirt when large hands grab at your waist. "Where do you think you're going~" a raspy voice asks from behind you. Shit, you got caught. "I, uhm-".

Vox cuts you off and pulls you back into bed with him, "You're not going anywhere, my dear... You belong to me now, only me.". His grip on you was tight and relentless, no way of escape now. You lay there staring at the ceiling, remorse causing your stomach to ache. There's no chance Vox was gonna let you go now, no, now that he had you you'd belong to him forever.

The End.

__ I HOPE YGS LIKED THIS ONE!! PT.2 MAYBE LOL IF YGS WANT IT WKEFBHKWEFWKBHF. my mind is FRIEDDD so if i randomly repeated stuff or spelt some shit embarrassingly wrong im sorry.

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ:

@takemetoneverland420, @rlini0914, @ithofficial, @angel-fallz, @sweet-radio, @fru1tbatzz,

@janussillyprompts, @leonotlara

[suljaffs]

Nanami Dabble - Surprise Dinner / fluff

Warning: this may not be that good it was just a random brain fart I wanted to write about sighfhfghfgfhhh

It was 11:30 pm. The apartment was dim with a scenic nighttime view, a couple of your vanilla candles around the dining room to set an ambiance with a somewhat nice layout of food: Mac and cheese, fries, pizza rolls, and even home made heart shaped cookies for desert. “He should be getting home any time now.” You thought, stepping back to view your creation in full. Your body tense with excitement waiting for the door to swing open.

Nanami always came home at late hours, leaving at the crack of dawn, entering while you slept. It bothered you not being able to spend much time with your lover but you never held it against him because you understood his job was hard, draining even, and you wanted nothing other than to provide a safe space for your husband. Today, you decided to do something for him. For the longest, you two have postponed plans of going to dinner because of work. The two of you could’ve just gotten in the kitchen but he wanted it to be a day where the two of you could simply relax. At first, it seemed like a good idea but with each date night turning into “I don’t have enough time after work.” And lots of cancellations on reservations because of last minute work issues, You decided to take matters into your own hands and what better than a quick at home dinner?

“That carpet fragrance is quiet strong.” Hearing not only his voice but also the lock hitch and the knob shuffle, you pulled out your phone to take a quick picture before ducking under the table, snickering to yourself.

Nanami creeped the door open, he was always careful as to not wake you up. “My.. love?” He stopped in his tracks, tucking his lips as he watched you come up from under the table, a small smile creeping its way on his face as he watched you bump your head in the process. “Su-ouch-prise!” You jumped up, a big smile on your face despite your minor injury. He softly shut the door behind him, keeping his body turned towards the closed door, back facing you. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me big boy.” You snickered, making your way over to him. “I just wanted to do something special but in all honesty, it’s not my best work.” You dismissed your hard work, but you hadn’t known what else to say to ease the moment.

“It’s perfect my love.” He turned to you, two tear trails visible on his face. Seeing him cry wasn’t crazy to you as he had been a softie: that time when you said yes to being his girlfriend in high school and even that time when a cute squirrel approached him on your guys walk through the park. You took a hand to his face, drying his tears as his head hung low. “It’s all for you.” You cooed. “Now come eat. I only really had time to actually cook the Mac and cheese so you better appreciate my hard work.” You teased, untying his tie which you know he would hate to get dirty. He took your hand before you could walk over to the table. “You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world, y/n.” He whispered before planting a deep kiss on your hand, another tear dropping.

He guided you to the table, seating you before seating himself. “I thought the smell was that carpet fragrance got you, never would’ve expected it to be this…” Nanami looked around the table, a nod of approval. “oh how I love you.” He whispered. The night was full of giggles, conversations of work, and old memories between you two like the times when he thought it wasn’t obvious he had a crush on you, when you rejected him because you didn’t know him well enough, and most importantly the cute moments you two shared every now and then.

As the time ticked close to 1, you two had wrapped up dinner, he had taken him a shower, and you two decided** to reside yourselves in bed for the night. For once in a long time, you two were finally going to sleep at the same time again and it wasn’t just him cuddling you when you were already asleep. This time, it was you who was big spoon. Playing with his blonde strands as his head rested in your chest, you couldn’t help but to sniff him. He smelt of tréseme hair conditioner but you had no issue with it because it was him… his smell.

[wintergreenoreo]

Been in my feels so I wrote a small Strollonso hurt/comfort fluff piece. Enjoy 🙏🏽

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fernando and Lance sit side by side on the edge of Fernando’s hotel bed. Lance sighs.

Lance: I feel like a burden…

Fernando: Why is that?

Lance turns his head slightly towards the older man and gets a good look at his face. He looks rough. His eyes devoid of any light. The bags underneath them sunken and heavy. Eyebrows furrowed. ‘Poor guy’ Lance thinks to himself. He answers.

Lance: I watched you struggle to finish the race. Your radio… it made me realize that… you do so much for this team. Even putting your own health aside just to make their hardwork pay off. I couldn’t even start the fucking race….

Lance turns his head away from Fernando and stares at the ground underneath his feet.

Lance: I’m a screw up.

Fernando: Hey! Do not say that about yourself!

Lance continues to stare at the ground, tears starting to form in his eyes.

Lance: I mean am i wrong? I could never do the things you do for them…. i don’t know why you even continue to mentor me and teach me skills that i’m obviously not smart enough to do myself…. im useless.

Fernando sighs.

Fernando: Look at me.

Lance doesn’t move. ‘Crying infront of your teammate…crying infront of Fernando Alonso… he must think im pathetic…’ Lance’s thoughts making his eyes water even more.

Fernando: Please look at me cariño.

The ‘cariño’ being the reason Lance slowly turns his head to face Fernando. Stray tears falling down his flushed cheeks.

Fernando: You really think you’re a burden?

Lance tries to look away but Fernando catches his chin to keep him faced towards him.

Fernando: Because to me you are far from that. You don’t understand how much the team needs you… how much I need you.

Lance’s eyes widen, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. The older man lets go of his chin and looks up at the ceiling with a small sigh leaving his mouth.

Fernando: Every teammate I have had… I always wanted to best them. Humiliate them. I wanted them to fear me. Know that no matter how hard they tried they could never compare to me.

Fernando tilts his head to look at Lance.

Fernando: But not you. You are different. I felt like it was my duty to help you. Guide you to become a better driver. Use my experience to help you adapt to different situations. By doing that, I knew that I could care about someone else other than myself. Be a better person.

Fernando places a hand on the back of Lance’s neck and leans closers to him, wiping the tears off his face using his other hand.

Fernando: You’ve made me a better person Lance… I need you to know this.

Lance is to stunned to speak. He let his mouth hang open at the words Fernando had just said. Fernando chuckles slightly to himself as he looks at Lance’s goofy expression.

Fernando: And remember, you are the centerpiece of this team. Without you, this team would not function properly. Your presence and determination is what drives this team. Even though people will say differently or say you don’t care, they don’t know you like we do. We know how hard you work. You are not useless. You are an incredible driver. You are valuable.

The Spaniard’s face moves closer to Lance’s. His hand gripping his jaw softly while the other is still grasping Lance’s scruff. Their lips inches apart. Both of them staring into each others eyes.

Fernando: You are loved.

Lance immediately makes the first move, crashing their lips together without a second thought. He for a split second expected Fernando to pull back or show some sort of resistance… but instead he felt Fernando kiss him back. Suddenly all the tears swelling up in Lance’s eyes had been released, down pouring down his cheeks and pooling into his collarbone as he deepens the kiss with his older teammate. Fernando continues to whisper ‘you are loved’ in between kisses making Lance’s face blush red like a tomato. They continue like this for a couple more minutes until Fernando breaks their kiss and leans a few inches back, leaving a strand of saliva hanging between their lips. They both take a moment to catch their breaths.

Fernando: You feel better?

Fernando tries to dry Lance’s face with his sleeve and moves his other hand gripping Lance’s scruff to the top of his head, ruffling up his hair a bit which causes Lance to giggle softly.

Lance: Yeah… I do. Thank you for caring about me Nando.

Fernando: Of course cariño. Just… promise me you won’t go calling yourself those terrible things. Useless, burden, a screw up. Get those words out of that talented head of yours, OK?

Fernando drops his hand from Lance’s jaw and holds it out for him to take. Lance rolls his eyes and sharply exhales out of his nose at the ‘talented head’ part but can’t help his blush from getting any redder. Lance takes the Spaniards hand into his, locking their fingers together. Sealing an unbreakable bond.

Lance: Ok. I promise.

[prettyoddfever]

Hey, sorry if you've already done a post on this but do we know why Ryan ross stopped wearing stage makeup /makeup in general? I haven't seen any pics of him during pretty odd with any makeup on xx

Ryan only wore stage makeup from June – December 2006. It was just a short phase and then he was totally over it.

The Pretty. Odd. era started in 2008. Ryan and Jon talked a lot that year about how they wanted to make music that was more “honest” and authentic. At that point they viewed all of the Fever-era performers, costumes, makeup, and elaborate sets as “distractions” that weren’t necessary if the music was good enough to speak for itself. There were times that year when Ryan would almost look down on the Fever-era’s dramatic stage shows in a condescending way, as though those things were totally beneath him now. He certainly wanted to distance himself from all of that. He also made comments like “I think we’d be silly if we were wearing the circus outfits again. I don’t even know how we got on that kick.” He also told Cosmogirl in spring 2008 that “I think we’re playing a lot better than we used to... I guess you could say we’re more about sounding good than looking good.” Even his comments that weren’t dismissive of the Fever era still made it sound like the previous version of the band was inferior.

I loved that Ryan had found a direction he was happier with! But he didn’t seem to care that a lot of us were kind of hurt over how he was treating the Fever era. He had moved on. Ryan was more focused on establishing & defending the new version of the band in 2008 (and making it clear that fans didn’t own P!ATD; the band members controlled it and could take it in whatever direction they wanted). A lot of us were definitely interested in the new era, but we were loyal to the old familiar one. I wanted to be able to like both, but many of Ryan’s comments sometimes made me feel silly for ever thinking the Fever era was cool. 

Ryan changed so much every year. He also seemed to like to shake things up and make changes to the band so he could feel a stronger sense of ownership & control in something that was more authentic to who he was at each point. Like we had seen many other times, Ryan wasn’t interested in doing something for approval and he didn’t care what other people thought (which could be a strength). He was just going to move ahead with what he liked. Ryan told NME in 2008 that “Fever was a moment in time and it’s not who we are anymore.” Basically, his interests & focus had changed by 2007 and he wasn’t interested in looking back. Here’s something Ryan told Alt Press in 2010 when they asked him if he regretted any decisions from his years in P!ATD:

“At the time, I wouldn’t have changed anything, whether it be the weird makeup or whatever. Now would I do that? No. But at the time, that’s what I felt like I should do, so I did.”

I’ve seen some people these days make comments about how they wish the modern P!ATD had the Fever-era makeup/aesthetic and that its absence is somehow connected to Ryan’s absence? I have no idea how that conclusion works. Any hint of theatricality that the band had after the split was because Ryan was no longer there. Take a Vacation by TYV is basically what Ryan & Jon had in mind in 2008 for PATD’s third album... and that’s a far cry from AFYCSO. 

Basically, people change as they grow up nbd.

[rhiannonsknife]

rhiannon lewis & detective!reader anyone?

nsfw content, mdni! but also: this contains canon-typical dark content. we all know she's a bit crazy but here's your extra warning. knife play. semi-public sex.

thinking about rhiannon who knows that, sooner or later, someone will come to find out the truth about the murders if she’s not careful. if she’s not thorough about it. rhiannon who seduces you, the lead detective on the murder case, to ensure the investigations won’t go anywhere for a long, long time. rhiannon who acts out of pure self-interest, rather than genuine attraction -at first. she only needs a way to get close enough to the ongoing investigation, to steal potentially dangerous evidence from the police, to mess with the documents, causing leads to go nowhere time and time again. rhiannon who’s all smug and satisfied with your growing frustration. rhiannon who uses it to her benefit. she’ll watch you sit by the dinner table, bending over the documents and trying to figure out how this could’ve happened, clearly pent-up with tension she could help you with. rhiannon who approaches you from behind, one hand on your shoulder that is tense to the touch. “baby” she’ll whisper, pressing kisses against the back of your neck. “you’re all tense. it’s this case again isn’t it? you’re overworking yourself. here, i can help”. rhiannon who finger fucks you from behind and looks down at all the crime scene pictures that are scattered across the table as you bury your face in the side of her neck. rhiannon who makes the best of how needy you seem to get in your frustration, who gets off to your desperation and the fact that you have no idea that it’s her. to you, she’s just your clueless girlfriend, someone you’re trying to protect from these terrible things. the faster this vile person who’s committing all these crimes is behind bars, the better. oh, how endearing it is for her to watch you and the other investigators go after fake trails she has put out for you. how it turns her on to imagine the shock on your face if she were to get out her knife one of these nights. to watch the blade sink into you and see how you’d react, the last thing you ever feel the realization of what she’s been doing all along. the dark fantasy is enough to push her over the edge sometimes, crying out softly as she cums on your fingers. rhiannon who, in a horrible moment of weakness, realizes that she can’t go through with it like she had always planned. rhiannon who plans it, who plots it, and lures you into your office. who’s got everything ready for the kill and has you pinned against the wall with a blade to your throat and still can’t fucking do it. now she’s the one who glares in frustration, as her hand won’t do as she wants it to.

you, who sense the frustration. you, who -against your better judgement- lean in first, unable to stand the palpable tension that lingers between you. you can feel the length of her body press you up against the wall, the cool metal of her knife against your throat, and yet she won’t do it. you are in love with her, after all, there’s nothing you can do about it and it dawns upon you that rhiannon is too. that she hasn't been faking it like she had so proudly announced when she first pinned you to the wall. that you’ve both fucked up big time. you’re the detective who’s supposed to get her arrested, she’s the killer who couldn’t do the one thing she had been planning all along.

rhiannon who still has to let her frustration out somehow. who knows that she’s made sure the security cameras are off for the time being. who knows you seem to want this just as much, judging by the way you’re kissing her. it’s fucked up, she knows that too. but perhaps you both are. perhaps you both fuck each other up in ways that will eventually have consequences for one of you. it doesn't matter, for the time being. instead of focusing on what will happen after, rhiannon kisses you deeply. her hips begin to grind against you deliberately, but not once does she take the knife away, not quite trusting you yet. you only feel the bulge in her pants when she grabs one of your thighs and wraps it around her waist so that she's rubbing it directly against your center, nothing but your pants in the way, creating a delicious kind of friction between your bodies that has your head spinning and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. "off" you finally whimper, realizing that she won't give you what you crave unless you ask for it.

you can feel the way her lips curl up into a satisfied grin against the side of your neck that her lips are pressed up against. she has you exactly where she always wanted. she might not be capable of killing you, but she can at least have her fun with you now.

"do you let all of your suspects do this to you, detective?" rhiannon asks conversationally as she unbuckles her belt. she doesn't even give you time to answer, though you probably wouldn't have been able to string coherent words together anyway. instead, she turns you around so that you're facing the wall and kicks your legs apart harshly. her hand sneaks down your stomach, working with the buttons of your jeans. you grind into her fingers instantly, breathing heavily as they slide up against your wetness. "fuck" rhiannon mutters, skilfully pressing them against your clit and rubbing quick circles.

"do you, hm?" she demands again, this time sinking her teeth into your earlobe from behind so harshly she might as well be drawing blood from the flesh. "n-no" you stammer, your voice coming out as a whimper. "no?" you can hear the way she must be pouting, mocking you. you're mortified that it's not an instant turn-off for you, but quite the opposite. your knees nearly give out when rhiannon shoves your pants down to your ankles before bending you over. "ask me for it" she snarls, grabbing your waist tightly, so there's no way for you to grind your hips against her strap. you can't even see it, but you can feel its tip between your slick folds, just lingering there.

"please" you manage through gritted teeth. you hate that you want her, hate that you'll have her way with you however she likes.

"please what?" rhiannon grins. you try to look at her over her shoulder but a hand shoved into your hair pushes your face back against the wall. "tell me".

"please fuck me" the words have barely left your mouth when rhiannon sinks into you. the stretch is intense but so good, the pace she's set brutal. the sound of her skin slapping against yours can be heard all through the office, only accompanied by your moans as she forces your cheek against the wall. your relief is still intense when rhiannon finally drops her knife. as thrilling as it may be to have her hold it to your throat, this is all the proof you need that she's most definitely no longer planning on killing you.

rhiannon, on the other hand, notices that you let her fuck you either way. that you make no attempts to reach for the weapon either, only cry out in pleasure as she grabs your waist with both hands.

you're both fucked, but you'll deal with that later...

[graciegoeskrazy]

one more fight - she's begging you to stay stay part THREE

Matty Healy x lost!OFC!daughter!r

part 1 part 2

Warnings: crying, mourning/death of a parent, mention of running away, school lol, idk really, angst, ft George a bit

A/N: Idk how I feel about this but I think it's good. I had this way longer originally but the rest will just be separate parts. Some if the rest isn't s angsty (who IS she??) I like it. When Liam Payne died this reminded me that this is basically “I got adopted by one direction” fan fiction so now I hate it all actually but whatever

It had been a week since you attempted to run away from home, and a week since you decided to try calling this place home.

The days had been strange and tentative, each one blending into the next. You were slowly piecing together routines, latching onto anything that made you feel settled, though part of you wasn’t ready to trust the feeling. School, of all things, had become a useful distraction. It wasn’t that you suddenly loved studying or cared much about what grades you’d get—just that there was comfort in the rhythm of it. It gave you something to think about other than Matty or Mum. With midterms looming, you had a convenient excuse to keep your head down, keep to yourself, and attempt to be unnoticeable.

Your room, the biggest you’d ever had, still didn’t feel entirely like yours, Since the night Matty found your diary and read how you truly felt about staying, you’d been slowly adding little pieces of yourself to it—posters, knickknacks, little things that might make it feel like you belonged there. Nothing too bold or permanent, just small touches, as if you were testing how much of yourself you could leave behind in this space without making it obvious. It was easier to imagine Matty noticing and disapproving, though he’d only ever tried to show how much he wanted you to feel loved.

Every morning he’d check in, a soft knock on your door, asking if you needed anything. He never asked outright if you were okay or if you wanted to talk, and you only assumed it was because he knew that was too much to ask, too soon. Instead, he let you take each day as it came, hoping that small gestures—a cup of tea, your favorite snack he’d bring home for you, a movie night he’d suggest but would never force—would show you that this was, in his eyes at least, home for as long as you wanted it to be. Maybe even for good.

Yet the question lingered in the air between you both, like a thread that neither one of you wanted to pull. The question of staying. You hadn’t spoken about it since the night he found your diary, and though you’d been too mortified to say anything then, you wondered now if he’d been waiting all along for you to come to him and make it real with words. But for now, you settled into the quiet in-betweens, letting the weeks go by without saying anything final, and instead working to leave small pieces of yourself where you hoped they might take root.

…….

You never heard the quiet rumble of the car outside or the front door shutting. It was only when the light spilling through your bedroom door shifted into the shadow of a man that you finally turned around. Matty stood there, dressed in black with his wallet and keys in hand, dress shoes still on—he hadn’t even bothered to drop them off by the door. He’d come straight to you. “What the bloody hell are you doing up at this hour?” he asked. You rolled your eyes, too exhausted for his lecturing, and turned back to your work.

“Studying,” you said calmly.

He walked toward you, his tone firm but holding no anger or malice. “Not at one in the morning! You should be in bed. I told you I wanted you asleep by the time I got home.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not looking up from your work.

He sighed, setting his keys and phone down on your desk. “Did you eat dinner?”

“Yes,” you replied, a little too quickly.

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re lying now, are we?” You shot him a confused look. “I checked my credit card charges,” he added, shrugging with a smile. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your study guides. But before you could get back to work, he closed your laptop and began shutting the books on your desk. “It’s time for bed.”

“No, I’m busy.” You said, starting to open everything back up. Matty started closing everything again as soon as you did, putting more books into your backpack beside your desk.

He laughed, which pissed you off even more, “Don’t tell me ‘no’, it’s time for bed.” You ignored him, opening your laptop and trying to resume working, but it was no use, he just kept shutting everything off around you,

"Stop," His voice was firm, cutting through the air. The word felt heavier than it should, a gentle command that broke through the walls you had been trying so hard to keep up. Your body reacted instantly, curling in on itself as if his voice had unlocked something inside you. You pulled your knees to your chest and clamped your hands over your eyes, as though covering them could make the world go away. The tears you'd fought all night surged forward, warm and relentless. The sobs you’d been choking back finally broke free, trembling out in small gasps, filling the silent room.

For a moment, you felt nothing but the weight of it all—your sadness, your anger, the uncertainty that seemed to wrap itself around you like a second skin. You couldn’t stop shaking, the tears pouring out faster than you could handle, but before you could drown in them, you felt Matty slowly shift beside you. His hand wraps around your wrist. It wasn’t forceful, just a quiet, persistent tug, and you let him pull your hand away from your eyes. Your vision blurred through the tears as you blinked up at him, trying to make sense of his face through the haze of emotions.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice softer now, the firmness replaced by something warmer, something that felt like home. His arms opened prompting you to come to him.

Without thinking, you moved. The space between you two disappeared in a second as you pushed yourself off your desk chair and stumbled into him. You buried your face in his chest, your body shaking as his arms came around you, pulling you in tightly like he was trying to piece you back together. His chin rested on top of your head, and you could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, a rhythm that began to steady your own.

"It’s okay," he whispered into your hair, his voice a soothing tone against the storm raging inside of you. "I’ve got you. Let it out."

You sobbed harder, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as if clinging to him could stop you from falling apart completely. He didn’t flinch, instead, his hands moved in slow, comforting circles across your back. His touch was light but steady, grounding you with each stroke. He rocked you gently, the motion slow and rhythmic like he was trying to lull you out of the darkness with nothing but his presence.

"Shh," he murmured again, his breath warm against your hair, "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

His words wove their way into the cracks of your heart, slowly calming the tidal wave of emotions crashing inside of you. The ache in your chest began to ease, though the tears kept coming. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed this, how much you’d been holding back until this moment. The dam had broken, and now there was no stopping the flood.

But he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you tighter, wrapping his arms around you like a shield, protecting you from the world. He leaned back slightly, shifting his position so that you could sink further into his embrace, his arms cradling you like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice steady. Each word felt like it was unraveling the tight knots that had wound themselves deep in your chest, loosening the tension that had been building since your mom died. You weren’t sure how long you’d been crying, but he never left your side, never pulled away,

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and slowly, the sobs began to fade. Your breaths, though still shaky, came easier now, and the iron grip you had on his shirt began to soften. You felt heavy—exhausted, drained—but somehow lighter at the same time, as if some weight had been lifted. His hands never stopped moving, rubbing soothing patterns across your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over your shoulder blade.

He didn’t push you to speak. He didn’t pry or prompt you to explain. All he did was hold you, shushing your tears, whispering that everything was going to be okay. And it was you who chose to break the silence, your voice muffled against his shirt as you continued to cry into him.

“I just miss her,” you whispered, your words broken by the tears that hadn’t fully subsided.

He paused for a moment, letting the weight of your words hang in the air. The only sounds were your quiet hiccups and the soft rustle of his breath as he held you tighter.

“I know,” he finally said, his voice gentle, full of understanding.

“I just...want to see her again.”

“I know, baby-”

“And I’m so tired.” The exhaustion wasn’t just physical at this point.. Every part of you was worn thin, stretched beyond breaking.

“I know,” he whispered again. “But pushing yourself like this, studying until you can’t see straight, working every second of every day... it won’t bring her back, love. It won’t take away the hurt.”

His words settled in your chest, heavy but true. You felt the warmth of his breath on your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He then spoke words that would take a while to itch out of your brain, “You don’t have to be so strong all of the time, kid.” You continued to let the small tears flow off of your cheeks and onto his shirt, “You can ask your help every once in a while, you know that right?” You didn’t nod or answer, just stayed still, letting his words sink in.

He looked at you as he spoke, “You’ve had a long day,  I’ll bet money your exams will go just fine, and deep down, I think you know that, too.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes soft but serious. “But if you don’t get some rest, you’ll be too tired to keep your eyes open for any exam you take.” His fingers brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It’s time for sleep now, love.” You just nodded as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go get changed. I'll be right here.” You slowly pried yourself off of him, the chill in the air coming back without his warmth.

You grabbed one of the pajama sets from your dresser and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The momentary silence felt heavy, almost suffocating after the outpour of emotions just moments before. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly as you turned it on, casting a harsh glow on your reflection in the mirror.

For a second, you just stared. Your face was blotchy and red, eyes swollen from crying, dark circles lingering beneath them from nights of restless sleep. It was hard to recognize yourself like this—so raw, so vulnerable. A completely different person than the one you were mere months ago. You reached up to rub at your cheeks, your fingers brushing over tear-streaked skin, but the feeling lingered deeper than the surface.

You dried your face, tugging on your pajama top and slowly made your way back out of the bathroom. Matty was still sitting where you left him, his expression soft but watchful as you re-entered the room. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a small, reassuring smile, patting the spot beside him.

And without thinking, you went to him, letting the quiet between you two speak for itself.

He moved out of the way and moved the covers down, prompting you to get in. He pulled them up once you settled in and started fluffing your pillows. His gaze finally met yours once he got you settled and he couldn’t help the small frown on his face when he saw your eyes, still full of tears.

“Shh. It’s alright my love.” he said, voice almost a whisper, secretly trying to lure you to sleep

You looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. The ones he has become very accustomed to. “Will you stay with me?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

It took everything in your father to not cry in that moment, seeing you so small, so fragile. So terrified of what was to come made his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Of course I will.” He said.

Once he took his place next to you, you wasted no time, immediately finding a spot against him and his chest. He held you tighter as you cried into him. He didn’t say a word, yet you felt the most supported you’ve ever been. It almost felt as if a weight started to lift off of you. Eventually, your sobs subsided. The amount of crying in that short time was enough to wear you out during your barely conscious state, He was still in his dress shirt and pants, not that he cared. All he could think about was you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to let go of you.

…….

George bursted through the door, slamming it loudly. Not aware of your sleeping form on the couch, You were cuddled into your father, asleep, face hiding in his chest while your legs were sprawled out on the rest of the couch. To Matty’s surprise, his loud, booming voice didn’t wake you. Matty shut him up before he could continue. “Shhhh! Shut up will you!” he whispered. If he could’ve shouted he would.

George abruptly stopped when his eyes caught sight of you. “Christ, is that her?”

“No, it’s another 12-year-old who lives in my house.” George rolled his eyes. Matty continued, “She’s still asleep. Come sit.” He nodded towards the chair next to him.

He saw George’s hesitant look as he slowly crept to the couch, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. Matty noticed the way his gaze hovered over you as he took slow, calculated steps towards the chair, afraid a creek in the floorboard would wake you up. He spoke as he sat down. “Why so tired? It’s barely 3?”

Matty shrugged, “She’s been up late. Barely sleeps through the night since Flo died. Being up through the night studying for her exams sure didn’t help.”

George quietly sighed. “Poor girl.” He looked at you once more, paying attention to your features, now having a proper chance. “Christ, she looks just like you.” He said, almost a whisper.

Matty looked up at him quickly. “You think?” He said, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.

“Without a doubt.”

Matty hummed, looking at you again, “Acts like me too, stubborn as hell.”

George let out a small laugh before quickly responding. “Nah, I don’t imagine she’s as big of a pain in the ass as you.”

Matty rolled his eyes. “Oh shut-”

“Dad?”

Both men panicked when they heard the timid and groggy sound of your voice. You were still half asleep, not even bothering to open your eyes all the way. The sun peeking in through the living room windows was too bright anyways,

“I’m sorry I woke you, my love.” He whispered sweetly. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

You rubbed your eyes as if doing so would get rid of the tiredness in them. “What are you doing?” You asked while stretching.

“Nothing, just talking with George. Come here, come back to sleep, my love.” You didn’t argue, just fell limp again into his arms. Matty smiled down at you as George breathed a sigh of relief.

“Shush,” Matty said to him.

“Me shush? You're the one who woke her up!” He whisper-shouted,

Matty shrugged and repeated. “Shush.”

“She’s been doing alright otherwise?” George asked, his pettiness now replaced by pure concern.

Matty smiled as he continued his mindless movements of rocking you back and forth, “As good as she can be. All things considered.”

George hummed. “...And you? You doing alright there ‘Dad’?’

Matty sighed as he looked between his best friend and his daughter, his shoulders falling slump. “...I don’t know. I just…Sometimes I can’t believe she’s mine. Not because of everything that’s happened, but because she just seems…too good for me.”

As much as George wanted to make a joke and say something stupid like well, most women are, he didn’t. He stayed silent, only nodding his head to prompt Matty to continue. “She’s so mature. Well beyond her years, sometimes I think she’s more mature than me. She’s smart. Really really fucking smart, way smarter than me…sometimes I wonder how i’m supposed to help her…grow.” 

“I think you’ve done much more and much better than your giving yourself credit for.”

He sighed, “She’s already amazing. I don’t want to fuck her up. She too perfect.”

George nodded “Maybe that part she gets from Flo.”

Matty smiled, knowing he was right.

[neege]

Lesbian Wolfstar Prom AU!!

Part III

Part I | Part II

Part III!! Finally some substance!!! And an explanation of who the hell Emma Pierce is lol. I just read the lesbian wolfstar au that @werewolfenthusiast just posted and it inspired me to update this since it's been sitting in my drafts hehe. I hope you like it!! Remus is struggling in this one, again...

Oh also I learned how to add a cut!!! Part III below 🥰

Remus had always known to an extent that she wasn't particularly interested in boys, at least not in the way that other girls her age seemed to be. Being homeschooled until she was 14, she didn't really interact with any kids her age, and after spending a year at her new fancy private school, she still didn't have a good understand of what her peers were going on about in regard to the sweaty, annoying boys in their year.

So yeah, she already knew she didn't care to be swept up behind the science building with a strong senior football player so he could shove his tongue down her throat—which honestly... does anyone actually want that??—but it wasn't until a sleepover with Lily Evans, winter break of Sophomore year that things... clicked for Remus. She still remembers the fluttery feeling in her stomach, watching Kate Winslet kiss Leo while Lily braided her hair, and she still isn't sure if it was Kate herself or the feeling of another girl's fingers carding so gently through her curls, but she understood herself a bit better that night.

She never watched Titanic again, and she packed that knowledge away in a private little box shoved to the back of her head, locked and not to be opened until she was maybe 30. Or 40. 

And then she became friends with James and Peter.

And Sirius.

The four of them became fast friends—inseparable at all times—god, she loved them all so much.

But Sirius was different.

It was so hard to understand how Remus felt while being around Sirius. She had always been the most beautiful person in any room, maybe in the world, but although it did not go unnoticed by Remus by any means, there was always something else that just... stood out.

She was so smart and quick and funny in a cool, cutting way that no one else their age was. She was top of the class without trying and she was passionate and she made boys cry. She was captivating. And Remus was drawn to her in a way she's never been before.

And then she showed up to the first day of school with a new hair cut and the entire school whispering behind her back—did you hear? Black's a lesbian now—striding confidently up to their typical lunch spot, and Remus knew: she was in so much trouble. 

From that day forward, all she could think about was Sirius. 

Sirius's laugh.

Sirius's eyes. 

Sirius's long fingers and what they might possibly be able to do... 

It was torture.

But she also couldn't help but feel like maybe there could be something there, Remus and Sirius had always been something else—something different than the soul-bond that James and Sirius had, and something much more than her friendly but strained relationship with Pete, even something unique from the friendships Sirius shared with other girls their year. 

They were different, Remus was so sure.

And just when she was starting to come around to the idea of maybe trying her hand at flirting—for the first time!—James decided it would be a grand idea to discuss Sirius's taste in girls.

It was something that he'd apparently been trying to push with Sirius since she'd come out to them all—he seemed to be under the impression that talking about the girls Sirius might like would make everyone, but especially Sirius, feel more comfortable in their friendships. Remus wasn't sure. She kinda thought that maybe they shouldn't know so much about each other.

Unless it's me she likes. I wouldn't mind knowing that.

It had been a failing endeavor for about 2 months, with Sirius refusing to speak about the subject unless it was to crack a joke about Lily, which James was not very amused by. 

And then one early November school day, it happened. 

"Come on Sirius, we all know you have a type! You're so damn particular about everything else, how could you not!" 

"Shut up, dumbass!" Sirius was leaned back in her plastic school chair, balancing on the back two legs in a way that arched her back and pulled at her shirt to reveal her bellybutton—which Remus was decidedly not looking at.

"Just because you're always drooling after every red head you see doesn't suddenly mean everyone likes the same type of girl. Besides, girls aren't just separated into types like that, they're not movie genres." Remus felt good about this answer. It was smart, like everything else Sirius said. 

"Okay fine! Then just tell me who you like—" 

"Jesus Christ James we've been over this! I don't like anyone, this isn't middle school!"

"Fuck off, I don't believe you at all! You're always so defensive about it whenever I ask, there's gotta be someone here that you like. There's like a million girls at this school—" "Not true." "—there has to be one that you at least think is hot. Just tell me, and I'll drop it." 

Sirius sighed in response and pinched the bridge of her nose with her long fingers, which again, Remus wasn't looking at. She was, however, listening very carefully for Sirius's answer while badly pretending to complete the assignment that had been given to them fifteen minutes ago. She'd answered two out of twenty-five questions so far. 

"If I tell you, you can't make it a whole thing okay?" "I can't promise that at all, but I won't ask again for the rest of the day!"

Sirius squinted at him for a moment before responding, "Deal." 

She sat forward, smacking the chair fully back to all-fours before leaning her elbows on the edge of the desk. She looked around the small classroom, and Remus couldn't help but follow her gaze—what was she looking for? Was there some kind of secret... thing? Some secret power that slowed her gaze long enough to be noticed? Remus wanted it, whatever it was.

Finally, Sirius leaned forward even more, until her voice could be heard quietly as she declared: "Emma Pierce is pretty hot." 

Emma. Emma Pierce. 

Varsity Cheerleader with the long, smooth blonde hair and beautiful curves that Remus has heard Pete grossly wax poetic about on many occasions. 

That Emma Pierce.

James let out a long whistle and clapped Sirius on the back—Remus noticed the pale-pink tint developing on her lovely cheeks and it made her stomach lurch.

"Damn Sirius. I was right, you would go for the hottest girl in school—" "Lily, James?" "—excluding my beautiful Lily of course. Nice! you should make a move, see where it leads!"

Sirius let out a short, loud laugh and shoved James away roughly. "I'm not going for anyone, dipshit. I just think she's pretty, she's got that long hair and... yeah I'm not talking about this anymore, actually!" She stood up as the bell rang and began collecting her things. "Someone wake up Pete, I think he drooled on his assignment." 

Remus sat, stunned, and thought about her own frizzy brown hair. The color of dirt. 

It at least used to be long, down to her waist even, but Remus had decided to chop it all off as a show of solidarity with Sirius this year. Her mom had cried when she cut it. She'd wanted it to look edgy and cool, kind of like the short, mullet-y style hair Sirius sported now, but it looked more like she was the young mom of a two year old with a baby on the way. The frizzy curls now just touched under her jawline, and when Sirius had first seen it, she had ruffled the curls aggressively with a beaming smile. It was amazing.

"Moons, you alright?" Sirius broke her out of her reverie, and was looking at her with wide, concerned steel-grey eyes. 

Her eyelashes are so long. 

"Yeah... m'fine Pads." 

Oh my god, I'm so fucked.

[l-in-the-light]

How does Law deal with his fear of losing loved ones? 😢

Uh, how does he deal with it... Considering what we saw already, I think the answer is "he deals with it badly".

Let's take a closer look at the situations in which he lost people. Fair warning, this will be kinda long and I will go into insufferable number of details, because I feel like it :D Flevance, for starters. First he lost his parents, then his friends from church, then finally his sister, and each time it seems to hit him only harder. One of these traumas would be enough to make you paranoid of losing anyone ever again, but it's a freaking triple portion of that.

Helplessly sitting there in the midst of corpses of his friends, crying and screaming, as if they could still hear him.

His first longterm reaction was losing faith, but not just in religion or god, but "anything". This means he most likely lost faith in people's kindness and compassion (soldiers killing off children and the nun), honesty (again, soldiers tricking the nun and breaking their promise to her to save the children), morality (not even women and kids will be spared), his doctor skills (he didn't manage to save anyone despite being a kid of a doctor), trust in others (because again no one helped him, his parents or anyone else in Flevance. He got out just because he didn't expect to receive any help, he's solely self-dependant at the age of 10 and probably survived on the streets completely by himself too).

Finally, he joined Doflamingo's Family out of desperation, but at first they didn't want to take him in.

He was sitting on a pile of trash, having a really vivid flashback that clearly triggered him and make him lash out at Corazon, full of directionless rage. He was probably thinking they won't accept him into the family after all, so he wanted to take down at least one life of a "scum", as he said it himself.

But even after they accepted him into the family, he's still pretty much expressionless and avoiding getting close with people, which might have been his subconscious self-defense mechanism. If he's not close to anyone, it won't hurt him anymore if anyone dies. He might have been part of the family, getting engaged with his studies and training, but he really didn't grow close with them. Sure, he spends some time with Baby5 and Buffalo, but it seems their interactions are mostly forced by the other kids and didn't start from Law's own initiative.

Like here, "I wasn't asking for [your real names]" and "I only said [my name] because you kept bugging me!". He is not curious about the other kids, he doesn't feel like having fun anymore either (possible sign of depression or traumatic response: suddenly not enjoying things you previously did enjoy). Considering the fact he believes he's gonna die soon, depression would be also pretty much understandable.

Summing it up, at first he dealt with it by putting distance between himself and other people, succumbing to depression, not only feeling like nothing is fun but also thinking it's pointless to even try to change it, and also trying not to think about Flevance (the last part is for self-preserving reasons).

We could see him getting retraumatized over and over again while Corazon dragged him around the different hospitals, and he says it himself: it took so much toll on his mental wellbeing that it even affected his physical health and made the disease progress faster. Anything related to amber lead syndrome and what happened at Flevance, and even just people's reactions to sick people, seem to really affect him in a bad way and psychologically-wise revisit the hell he barely survived.

After he finally got someone he cares about again (Cora-san), he starts to regain his faith in people's kindness and love again (he probably thought no one can love him after he lost every single person who loved him before). Doesn't mean he stops fearing that Cora-san might die and he deals with his fear by constantly worrying about him:

He's so one-track minded about it that he doesn't even pay attention to what Cora-san is telling him. His fear and worry must have been really overwhelming him to the point that he couldn't focus on anything else.

He's blaming himself whenever anyone gets hurt as the result of trying to help him. Later he ever provokes Vergo just so he would harm Law instead of Cora-san, because Law can't deal with the thought that someone dear to him would suffer for his sake or because of his mistake.

Next step is him trying to compensate for the damage. He literally does everything Cora-san wants him to do, even go and talk to a Marine, despite having really hard time doing it (he has bad memories of the Marines and he might have feared them at this point).

Despite promising to stay put, he wants to get out of the chest as soon as he hears gunshots (after all last time it happened, Cora-san ended up badly injured!). But what would he do next, if he truly managed to get out? You can guess it, he would take the blow for Cora-san instead of him. He tried to do the same before, take the beating from Vergo so he stops harming his Cora-san. Law's not beyond self-sacrificing himself if it saves people who are dear to him. He would prefer to die himself than seeing them die (especially for his sake) and not being able to do anything about it.

That's why he says this despite the fact he's in such a bad state he can't move. But he doesn't worry about himself, only about his crew's wellbeing (they can't die on him!).

It's the same in Dressrosa. He either sacrifices himself for them so they can escape (he almost died there, lost his arm, was buying time for Luffy; all of these actions count as sacrifice), or he dies together with them. Technically, what Bepo did by saving him makes Law 100% re-live his past trauma again.

And since trauma is a vicious cycle, that means he might go back to his previous stages after he lost to Blackbeard: putting distance between himself and people, keeping people dear to him safe (which means away from him), trying to focus the possible backlash on himself instead of on them. Generally, he would make sure they don't get harmed for his sake. He might go on another solo mission, leaving his crew behind, just like he did for Dressrosa and Punk Hazard (until he stumbled upon Strawhats, but he also wanted to break the alliance before they get too engaged into his plan, despite barely knowing them).

That could potentially also make us better understand his refusal to get saved by Luffy back in Dressrosa, especially after Law made sure that Doflamingo lashes out at him, not Luffy and the Strawhats, sacrificing himself for them and buying time.

He also deals with his fear by being overprotective. What could he even do for Luffy here if someone attacks them? He couldn't even move or stand up! He would protect Luffy simply by bodyblocking, taking harm in his place... His own survival or wellbeing be damned.

So the second phase of him dealing with his fear of losing people is being overprotective of them, pushing them out of harm's way even at the cost of his own wellbeing or life (sometimes that means tucking them away in a safe place, sometimes it means taking the damage on himself in their place), and agreeing with anything and everything to compensate for putting them in danger, as long as it doesn't harm them. For example, they want to carry them for half of Dressrosa in uncool fashion? So be it, as long as they're not in danger.

That's Law's way of dealing with his fear at it's worst. At it's best though? Hearts and Luffy taught him again how to have faith in people. Bepo, Penguin and Shachi (and Wolf) opened his heart after he had again no one left (second time in his life already) and simply were there for him, and he returned the favour. He lived in quite a peaceful town so for a while he didn't have to worry about losing them (though he had to save their lives twice anyway, always overdoing himself in the process and doing everything by himself, because he couldn't mentally handle the possibility of losing them). Yet soon after trouble in the town happened, he decided it's time to leave the island for good and maybe it wasn't just a coincidence; his fear of losing people might have finally pushed him to take that step.

Law also trusted Luffy to deal with the Sanji's situation on his very own. He could have gone with Luffy to Whole Cake Island, simply because he was worried sick and afraid he might lose him, but he chose to *have faith* in him instead and to wait for him in Wano. What's the difference between this situation and Dressrosa? I guess the urgency. In a normal situation, he can convince himself that it's okay and people won't die on him, if he tries hard enough to fight his fear. Perhaps he also takes some measures to prevent bad stuff from happening, to calm his mind (could he help Luffy in any way on the Whole Cake Island despite not being there by himself? Who knows. But I wouldn't put it past him). But when the situation is dire, he loses to that fear and does really reckless things to protect people. Thankfully, he still has enough awareness to not die on people either, but at times it gets alarmingly close (again, nearly dying in Dressrosa, putting himself in jail in exchange for freeing his Hearts in Wano).

Third time's the charm, let's see how he reacts after the scare of losing his crew to Blackbeard and probably believing, yet again, this is all his fault, because he's the captain and responsbile for their wellbeing. What do you think, after Law lost did the Heart Pirates throw themselves between him and the enemy to protect him?

Because I think they did, 100% certain of it. Law would take it really badly. He would feel like he's again in his past, having to watch his parents and sister and kids dying, or Cora-san being shot to death, and Law again can't do anything about it. That ought to crank up his fear of losing people to 1000%. We can't really expect rational behaviour out of him as the result. I think he will do anything to never repeat it again, and that doesn't mean training like crazy with his crew, but instead leaving them behind so they're out of the harm's way. It is definitely not one of his better days, in which his faith in people will win over his fear of losing them.

I don't know how much he's bluffing when he says things like that, both in Dressrosa and Wano, but even if he himself doesn't always believe in this, just him saying it to others means a lot. Also faith in others doesn't have to be "blind faith". I think it's unreasonable to expect Law to have blind faith in *anything* after what he went through in his life. But he seems to never doubt Luffy, for example, and that's also a sign of his belief in him. Doesn't mean he won't worry his ass over him or that he won't become overprotective, because one doesn't exclude the other :)

And a bonus: how I wish Law dealt with his fear instead. I want him to have a strong crew that he can have faith in to take care of themselves, to trust his dear people to prioritize their own survival (even if it's Usopp's style!) so he won't have to worry for them dying for the cause. And he should definitely stay close to Luffy, because they both having self-sacrificing tendencies and they both worry about each other so much. They can learn together how to be better about it. But Law's fear will always come back in worst situations, because something so deeply rooted can't just go away and never resurface. I'm sure he can manage it better though, we saw him doing that in Zou!

[wheneverfeasible]

Used

wc: 2.3k || rating: E || cw/tags: a/b/o dynamics, d/s dynamic, degradation, pain play (spanking, pinching), gagging, double penetration, intersex omegas, vaginal sex, anal sex, knotting, referenced domestic/child abuse, MDNI || ao3

I’m gonna be honest. I have mixed feelings about Billy Hargrove, but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. So I present to you, shameless A/B/O Metal Sandwich smut.

~~~

Everyone had always expected him to be an alpha. Hell, he’d been raised like one even before his presentation, his father refusing to accept anything else from his only son.

Nature had a way of ruining one’s expectations.

Staring up into the brown eyes of the leering alpha before him, the man’s cock thick and heavy and already dripping with precome begging to be licked and sucked clean, he couldn’t help but be so utterly thankful that nature gave him a tight little pussy instead.

Especially when strong hands fisted his hair from behind, jerking his head back so his neck arched to take in the second alpha at his back. A moan left him at the action, his pussy throbbing with fresh slick. He didn’t touch himself, however, no matter how much he longed to, how much it was almost painful to refrain.

“Such a good little slut, waiting so patiently to be filled,” the dark voice intoned above him. His hands tightened where they were resting on his thighs, kneeling on the ground as he waited for his alphas’ orders.

He knew he was lucky, having both of them. They took care of him, made him feel safe in a way he never felt with his family, and used him in just the way he always craved. In moments like this, he could let all the rest of it go and just be.

A whimper escaped when the heavy cock of one of his alphas tapped at his lips already plumped by teeth, dropping his jaw obediently and rolling out his tongue so his alpha’s cock could drag teasingly over the muscle. Saliva pooled, mixed with the salty precome, and dribbled down his chin.

“Always so fucking eager,” the alpha before him scoffed, mean and perfect, while the other pulled his hair harder. His slick had already made its way over his thighs, his body aching at being empty for so long. He knew better than to rush his alphas, however.

Sometimes, when he wanted to be punished, he would be a brat. But today he just wanted to be used however they wanted him. Wanted nothing more than to be their little slut and cum dumpster, or whatever else they wanted from him.

As the thick cock continued dragging on his tongue, pressing up against his palate over and over again, his other alpha reached around him to slide a hand over his chest, fingers reaching for his nipple and squeezing hard, tugging at the new bar that pierced through it, causing another sharp moan to leave him as his cocklet jerked and spurted out its own pre-release, pussy gushing out his pleasure.

His alpha’s cock left his tongue to slap him in the face, smearing the preejaculate there on his cheek with a small growl.

“You’re as noisy as a bitch in heat. You wanna be used like one too, slut?”

“Yes, alpha, please,” he whimpered. “Please use me. Please show me what a filthy slut I am.” His alphas grinned at each other, and he knew he answered the way he was supposed to. “Please fuck me.”

“Oh, we intend to, precious,” his alpha behind him whispered. He twisted the piercing between his fingers some more, smirking at the cry of pain-pleasure that caused. “What do you think, Stevie? Should we put this whore in his place and see just how much his little omega pussy can take?”

Steve grinned across at Eddie, his hand reaching out to roughly grip Billy’s jaw between his fingers harder enough to bruise. “Let’s make certain he doesn’t wake the neighbors, shall we?” With that dangerous gleam in his eyes that Billy loved so much, Steve forced his jaw open and shoved the soaked, filthy silk panties he’d made Billy wear earlier into his mouth.

Only when he released Billy did Eddie shove him to the ground, forcing his hips up in presentation. A sharp smack to his ass had Billy yelping against the panty gag in his mouth, as well as causing another rush of slick to coat his pussy in anticipation.

Steve moved around to watch as Eddie shoved three fingers deep inside Billy without any other preparation, grinning when Billy let out a muffled yell as his fingers scrambled against the rough rug below him. Like the whore he was, Billy pressed back against those fingers eagerly, wishing for more.

Eddie was, of course, a generous alpha. He roughly worked his fingers inside Billy, the wet sound of it filling the room amidst Billy’s moans. It wasn’t enough, however, couldn’t fill him as he needed, couldn’t go as deep. He moved to spread his knees wider, pushing back for all he could get.

“God. You really are a cock slut, aren’t you?” Steve scoffed, watching the display with a disinterested expression, but his eyes took in the sight of Eddie’s shiny fingers disappearing in his pussy with hunger. His large cock bobbed in the air in anticipation that Billy felt in his bones.

“Maybe we should just leave him like this in punishment. Leave his gaping pussy empty,” Eddie sneered, pulling his fingers out with a loud squelch. Before Billy could whine in complaint, however, his large hand was coming down and slapping his pussy hard, causing Billy to jerk forward with a high whine.

“Or maybe we should call Tommy, fuck him instead and make this slut watch.” Steve knelt down on the carpet, grabbing Billy by his curls and forcing his head back, tsking at the sight of the tears Billy couldn’t keep back any longer. “Pathetic.”

Steve rolled his eyes as though greatly put upon, letting out a heavy sigh. “Though we already have this one here. It’d be a pity to have to start over.”

“You’re too right,” Eddie agreed with a small groan as though equally annoyed. Another sharp sting of hand hitting Billy’s pussy caused him to cry out against his gag, rocking forward before pushing back for anything to fill how empty he was. “Might as well use this used up pussy for now.”

Yes, yes, yes, that was all Billy wanted at this moment. To be used and put in his place and shown just what a fucking slut he was for his alphas. He wanted to be good for them. His mind was already starting to go hazy with just the thought of them both inside him.

Eddie settled back on the pile of blankets they’ve shoved away to get Billy on the hard ground, watching Billy shiver with a small smirk as he slid his hand over his own thick cock before glancing up at Steve. “Make him work for it, honey.”

Steve released Billy’s hair to grin down at Eddie, and though Billy couldn’t see it properly, he could hear the way Steve swooped over to the other alpha to draw him into a filthy kiss, could hear the hiss of Eddie as Steve’s hand replaced his on his alpha cock, making Billy whine.

“Our whore is jealous, I think,” Steve breathed against Eddie’s lips. “Have we been too mean to him?”

A dark chuckle left Eddie that went straight to Billy’s core. “Maybe we ought to make up for it. Fill that tight little pussy. Then maybe fill his tight little ass too.”

Billy shuddered at that, his cocklet twitching madly at just that thought. He loved his pussy being filled, but he also loved his ass being filled too. He always felt so deliciously dirty and used up after that.

“Maybe if he’s a good boy,” Steve agreed, and then hands were in his hair again, pulling and dragging him around to face Eddie splayed against the remains of their temporary nest. “Can you be a good boy, pet?”

Billy nodded rapidly, uncaring of the way his hair tugged painfully in Steve’s grip.

“Prove it, slut. Take his fucking cock, all of it.”

Billy scrambled forward the second his hair was released, climbing into Eddie’s lap and not even hesitating for a second as he lined his alpha’s cock up before impaling himself in one swift glide all the way down. He threw his head back with a sharp keen as he felt his alpha spearing him open, sheathing his alpha fully with that one swift movement.

Eddie let out a groan of his own, his hands moving to Billy’s hips with bruising pressure. “You take my cock so well,” he groaned, sliding his feet to rest flat on the floor, bending his knees up to give him the needed lift to thrust up into Billy. “Show me how well you can ride me.”

Billy wasted no time with that, placing his hands flat on his alpha’s chest to behind rocking forward, thighs quivering as he rode his alpha fast and hard. Still, it wasn’t enough, however. Not when he could feel his other alpha watching from behind.

He whined and whimpered, needing more. Needing to be bred properly like the bitch he was, needed both his alphas inside him. Please, please, please please pleasepleaseplease—

The pop of a cap answered his prayers.

Billy cried out against the sodden gag in his mouth as he felt a strong hand push him forward against Eddie’s chest, and then two fingers cold with live were pressed up against his asshole. They only teased his hole for a moment before shoving their way inside, causing Billy to choke on the panties in his mouth as an orgasm ripped through him.

“Fucking slut,” Eddie chuckled darkly against his ear. “Couldn’t even get another cock in you before you blew.” He glanced over Billy’s shaking shoulder at Steve. “I think he needs to be punished.”

Steve smirked down at Eddie, sliding his hand from Billy’s back to curl against the back of Eddie’s neck to draw him forward, ignoring Billy between them as he brought Eddie in for a kiss.

“Let’s make him feel us tomorrow,” Steve agreed on a breath as they parted. “If he wants to act like a slut, I’ll treat him like one.”

That was all the warning Billy received before Steve’s fingers were removed from his ass, at the same time Eddie pulled the soaked panties from his mouth. Eddie’s fingers immediately replaced them, pressing down on his tongue until he gagged. Then, slick with lube, Steve’s cock pushed him.

Billy screamed against Eddie’s fingers, feeling split in two in a wholly new way as Eddie’s cock continued rocking up into his pussy and Steve pushed deep into his asshole. His eyes rolled back as he all but collapsed fully against Eddie as his two alphas fucked into him, his own cocklet hard once more.

Delicious pain and never ending pleasure were all he could acknowledge as he was filled and used and stretched around his alphas, drool pooling out around Eddie’s fingers that had started fucking his mouth with them too. Spoken about like he wasn’t even there, just an insignificant toy used by his alphas for their own pleasure.

It was hard and it was brutal and it was perfect.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie groaned beneath him.

“Fill him, baby,” Steve moaned behind him, his pace quickening as thrust into him with more and more abandon. “Fill his dirty little pussy up for me. Come with me, baby.”

Eddie growled, shoving Billy down hard on his cock until his growing knot popped inside, and then he was coating Billy’s insides with his seed in a flood of warmth. Almost immediately after, Steve thrust in hard against him, his own knot popping inside his asshole, and as both his alphas filled him with their love, Billy’s vision whited out before going dark.

An unidentified time later, Billy slowly came too with a groan of pain, feeling his pussy, ass, and jaw throb with exquisite aches. Almost immediately he felt gentle hands stroking over his back, his sides, pushing his hair out of his face so soft lips could brush over his brow, cheeks, nose, and jaw.

“You were so good for us, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice rumbled quietly from below him. “So perfect for us, our perfect omega.”

Eddie pressed against Billy’s back, soothing him with his own murmured praise as Billy slowly came back to himself.

“Is that what you wanted, darling? Do you feel better now?” Eddie wanted to know, nosing behind his ear as Steve cupped Billy’s cheek with a worried gaze.

“Were we too rough with you?”

A sleepy, content smile curled at Billy’s lips, and he snuggled in deeper against his alpha’s chest as he grabbed his other alpha’s hand to wrap around him more firmly. He could tell his alphas had cleaned him up, had relocated him into Steve’s bed the three of them were now curled up in. He never felt so loved.

“That was perfect, alphas,” he slurred a little, still a little too blissed out from everything.

He had come over to Steve’s after another argument with his father, thankful Eddie was already there, and told his alphas exactly what he needed to feel better. As always, they were more than happy to provide Billy with what he needed.

There were times that he craved something gentler, sweeter, but sometimes he just needed to be used and forget about everything else. His alphas always provided him that. Always provided him with everything.

There were also tentative talks of moving in together, after graduation. Of starting a real family, the three of them. And maybe, a little further down the road, maybe a few pups too.

Billy let out a content, happy sigh as he cuddled between his alphas. He’d feel the night’s activities for several days, he could tell, would be reminded of his alphas’ love for him with every twinged muscle and throb of a bruise, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

This might not be strictly Steddie but it’s part of it so…

Hostage Hotties:

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife

@everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

This will probably be the only Harringroveson I ever write, so if it’s not your jam, feel free to ignore this 😅

[girl-named-matty]

My last paper - Matty Ambrose

synopsis ✧ Matty is closing in on her final year of Hogwarts. For her last assignment in Professor Weasley's class, she's been asked to write a paper about herself. It can be anything as long as it has something to do with her. So without spilling all the secrets of her diary, she jots down some of the most important things in her life.

word count ✧ 2.5k

a/n ✧ This is my entry for the HL edition of my November writing prompts. Week one "Backstory". Hope you all enjoy!

"Well, this is my last paper I’ll ever write for school.

Three years have gone by all too fast. I’m in my last week of school at Hogwarts. For our last assignment, Professor Weasley asked us to write a paper on ourselves. About things we know, we remember, etc.… So really, just about anything as long as it was about us.

She said it was a good way to reflect on our past before we step into adulthood and the real world. And it’s just for us; we don’t have to show anybody if we don’t want to. I’ll probably have to stop a few times during this paper to go cry my eyes out, but who knows?

Hello, I am Matthew Loraine Ambrose. Yep, my name is Matthew, and I really like the name, to be honest. Although I’ve gone by “Matty” my whole entire life, if you call me Matthew, I’ll probably be terrified of you for a few moments since the only time someone uses my real name is my parents when they’re upset at me—which doesn’t happen often. But just be warned.

I was named after my paternal grandfather. My grandfather Matthew. I never met him, as he died before I was born. But after his death, my Da always swore he’d name his first child after his father.

Well, I’m the first and only child in my family, so I was the one that ended up with the name. I’d get teased for it whenever someone found out it was my real name, but honestly, I don’t care much. I think it’s a good way to honor the family member I never got to meet.

I was born in Dublin, Ireland, on April 26th, 1875. I grew up right beside my mother's side of the family—we lived right next to each other as neighbors. So I grew up surrounded by my aunts, uncles, cousins, and my mother's parents. It was the best start to my childhood that I could ever ask for. Near the people I loved the most who I knew loved me.

I often remember visiting my Nana and Granda’s house, sitting around their big stone fireplace with my cousins. I spent every Christmas there.

As for my grandmother, my parents and I tried to visit her as much as we could. She lived a bit away from Dublin, in Carlingford, Ireland. It was only her living in that little old house. I could tell she was lonely since my grandfather passed, but she always had the biggest smile on her face. Eventually, she did actually end up leaving Carlingford to come live with my mum’s side of the family.

My Mum and Da grew up together, so naturally, the families knew each other. Grandfather and Grandmother only left Dublin after my Da was grown and married. So it was no surprise that after she was left alone, she moved back. Both sides of my family are close, so they see each other as family blood related or not. I miss them a lot ever since leaving Ireland.

As for my friends, growing up, I had a really good friend named Declan. His family lived near mine, and he was always obsessed with my Granda’s boat—which is how we met. He wanted to grow up and become a sailor. Almost eighteen years later, I was told he finally did become one, and he’s somewhere out there on the ocean.

Declan and I did almost everything together. He was a bit of a delinquent, to be honest, but he was fun, and my parents thought he was a good kid, just a little misguided. Apparently he liked me at the time, and looking back, I probably liked him too. But we were just too young to understand what that was. I’m sure he’ll meet some wonderful person out there who’s capable of handling his personality, if you understand what I mean, of course.

He had brown hair that was always messy. I don’t think I remember a single time it looked neat. He had freckles all over his face. And for some reason, his appearance said a lot about him.

(At this point in my paper, I had stopped to show it to my best friend Hope. She told me I had a “type” in men, and I think that was just her way of calling Sebastian a delinquent. Should I be offended?)

Anyway, I still consider him to be my first best friend. We had a lot of good times together. I do hope he’s doing well out there.

My Da is a carpenter, and he likes to “invent” (as he calls it) all these little trinkets and things. He’s quite the intelligent man, really, and they are honestly quite useful. But his main job is carpentry. When I was seven, my Da and his business partner, Mr. Athy, wanted to expand their business opportunities. That ended up in them deciding that London would be the best place for them to go.

The business move was sponsored by Mr. Athy’s aunt, Alice Hammond, who lived in London. To be honest, she’s the scariest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. The business was dependent on her for the first two years but eventually broke out of that, and it's very successful now. Mrs. Hammond still seems entitled to our lives though—I don’t think that’s something we’ll ever escape.

Moving to London was quite hard. I spoke English, so that was no problem. But I still had a thick accent and hadn’t yet adapted to the area around me. Not to mention—being from Ireland—I wasn’t exactly sure how people would treat us.

We moved in next to a family of the name McGowan, and they came over to meet us that same day. They had a daughter my age, Hope (who I mentioned earlier). When we first met, she could hardly understand what I was saying because of my accent, yet she took the time to listen to me anyway. From that day on, we were best friends.

Ironically, I ended up finding out my best friend was a witch only because we bumped into each other on the first day of school when I finally attended Hogwarts. I had always found it quite weird how she went off to a school miles away for several months every year, but I never questioned it. Then I found myself at the same school years later. It was surprising, to say the least. Especially because I had no knowledge of the wizarding world until I was fifteen years old.

While in London, I also made friends with two girls named Eugenia and Nora. They are two of my close friends from home. All of these people in my life have helped me shape into the person I am today.

When I was fifteen, a man of the name Eleazar Fig showed up at my doorstep. I was terrified, to say the least. I had found the acceptance letter mere moments before he knocked on the door to my house—I freaked out mentally. I didn’t know how my parents would react. He was already inside by the time I had gathered my senses.

But my parents didn’t freak out; in fact, they were extremely supportive of me. It was surprising, that’s for sure, but truly they wanted me to do what made me happy.

I stayed in London for one more month while Professor Fig mentored me and taught me the basics of the Wizarding World and the magic therein. I love reading, but I don’t think I’ve ever read so many books in one month before then—it was a lot.

Then it came time for me to actually go to Hogwarts. Usually, students go on this train called “The Hogwarts Express,” however, Fig and I—and a friend of his, George Osric—traveled by flying carriage. Now that was an experience for sure. Long story short, I could definitely see Thestrals by the time we made it to the school.

The first day brought a lot of change in my life—most of it I wasn’t expecting, or at least thinking that it’d make that big of an impact on my life. I met many wonderful people, but just to name a few—

I met a boy named Sebastian Sallow, and the first thing I ever did was beat him in a duel. He’s now my boyfriend of almost two years, and we’re planning on getting married whenever the opportunity shows itself. I met a boy named Garreth in my common room. He was a bit silly to me at first, but now he’s dating my best friend. I’m hoping the safe side of his creative genius will rub off on their kids.

I met my dormmates, Nellie and Natty. Those two girls have helped me through more than they think. I could always go to them if I needed. And as I mentioned earlier, I bumped into my best friend that day as well.

Soon after, I met Esme, who has taught me a lot in the three years I’ve known her. Ominis, who has had the hardest life out of us all and yet still cares so much about others. He was a bit intimidating at first—after all, the first time I met him, he was yelling at me, but he was sweet after I got to know him for a bit. And if I remember correctly—Esme was yelling too. But she was yelling at Sebastian for stealing her diary. I suppose those two really are a match made in heaven.

Other friends I met are Leander, Amit, Zerena, Poppy, Cressida, Adelaide, and even a girl named Imelda, who I honestly clashed with for a while, but we’re surprisingly good friends now. She started respecting me only after I became Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain, and honestly, I’m not even mad for it taking that long. It’s just cool that I’ve earned that.

It’d take all the paper in Hogwarts for me to write down every friend I’ve made and their impact on my life, so I’ll try to keep this brief. But truly, I think coming here has been the best decision ever. My mentor and professor, Eleazar Fig, unfortunately passed away before the end of my starting year here. That hit me harder than anything, but his death encouraged me to keep going even after he was no longer here. He wished for me to do so to make sure that Hogwarts was protected, so I did just that.

Many of the other professors here have taught me many wonderful things and important life lessons. I truly believe each and every one of them cherishes their jobs and their students (well, maybe besides Professor Black, but that’s a different discussion), and that’s what makes the school how it is.

In summary, the past three years were crazy. I went from some random girl in London who didn’t know what she wanted in her life to the “Hero of Hogwarts,” who knew exactly what she wanted to do and pursue.

I fought and defeated Ranrok, Rookwood, and Harlow all in one year—not to mention the countless other things I was doing for other people. My sixth year at Hogwarts consisted of me doing mass research of Isidora Morganach after meeting her last descendant, which was crazy even of itself, and then I was betrayed by that descendant later that same year. What a time to be alive.

This year has arguably been the craziest year of my life. I used to think not much could compete with my fifth year, but I guess the universe decided to take that as a challenge. Because of Apollo opening the repository and trying to kill me—it left me with no choice but to take the magic myself to ensure that it was kept in good hands. I’d do whatever needed to be done in order to keep it safe.

I unfortunately got the blunt end of it—nightmares, sickness, insomnia, exhaustion, and so much more. And at points in time, I didn’t even have control over my own body, which led to “me” doing some horrible things.

I faced off with a psychopathic escapee from Azkaban whose only mission in life was to kill me—basically, her interesting "lover" second in command who pretended to be my professor, two of Ominis’ older brothers—one who blackmailed me into helping him put the other into prison and the other who was working with Leona (the psychopathic Azkaban escapee) who was also trying to kill me.

So, pretty much everybody had it out for me this year. Yet miraculously, I’m alive.

But regardless of how many things happened this year, good was still present. My relationship with Sebastian has never been stronger. I truly want to spend the rest of my life with this man. He spends every day of his life getting better, making up for his past, and setting up for a good future. My friendship with many others is very strong too, especially those who were by my side all year.

Anne—Sebastian’s sister, who has been cursed for many years now—was finally cured. She’s still recovering, as the cure was only a reversal of the curse, but she’s doing much better. She’s happy now, a smile on her face almost all the time. I never realized just how much she and Sebastian looked alike until recently.

Oh, I—and the both of them—met their aunt. Yes, the one everybody thought was dead. Even through all the crazy things that happened to me this year, I still think that’s the craziest.

I feel like I’m dragging on here, but this paper hardly captures just everything that’s happened in my life—mainly in the past three years. Luckily, I have diaries for that.

But in conclusion, no matter how hard it’s been, coming to Hogwarts has been the best decision I’ve ever made. I’ve learned so much, met lifelong friends, met my future husband, and already have my future career set up for me. It’s bittersweet to say goodbye, especially since I only got to spend three years here instead of the usual seven, but nonetheless, I’m lucky that I made it.

I’m a better person than I was then. I’ve saved lives, helped others, and now that’s my mission in life. To continue to help others with the gift I have. Professor Fig once told me that this magic just doesn’t come to anybody who wants it and that it's given to those who will do good with it. He pretty much gave me an assignment for life right then and there, and I took it up.

Even if life is hard and sometimes it feels like I want to give up, I know that it was all worth it to keep trying.

And regardless of all the things I’ve gone through, at least my kids will think I’m cool. :)"

[hydrachea]

Oh the polycule is so real to me.

[dollypopup]

"Colin should have grovelled more!" "Penelope folded too easily"

I think statements like this typically come from people who like Penelope. . .but don't really understand her. And don't really understand just why she cares for Colin, and just why him groveling would not in any way bring her peace.

Penelope and Colin are kindred spirits in their loneliness, in season 3 more than any others. Penelope had lost her friendship with Eloise, and Colin didn't really have a close friend circle to begin with. Except with Pen. Pen was the person he could put the mask down for, could open up to, (in particular with their 'dreams' discussion) and that's why he couldn't even entertain the idea of giving up talking to her in Season 2. She is a vital part of his life, and holds so much significance and importance to him.

I imagine that's what made their silence over his travels especially painful for him. They spent such a long time talking after Season 1, and he even informs her that her letters were so encouraging, that it helped him heal something inside of himself. That if she could see him in a gentle way. . .so could he. (And he repays this, because he is honest to god out here acting and looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky). But without her presence in his life, he spiraled. Didn't feel confident in being who he is, and thus put on his persona more firmly. We know this because he wrote in his journal that "I want to be less needy, less insecure, while still maintaining the core of my vulnerability that makes me who I am". That he misses his family, that he misses home.

And we know, from the books, that Home? Home is Penelope. Penelope is his North Star, is his guiding force, and who I argue he feels he needs. In his very first scene, he looks toward her house, tries to find her in the window. When he does not, he returns to his family. In the outdoor gathering, he looks for her and finds her, eager to talk. He states aloud that he misses her, and I imagine he wrote it, too. Not hearing back from her over the course of his travels was surely something that hurt him, but he doesn't hold any ill will toward her for it, only wants to reconnect again. In fact, the one and only time he brings up how he misses her and that she didn't respond, she makes very clear the reason why: she heard what he said and it hurt her. And he's ashamed of it.

Colin hears her call him cruel, and instead of ruffling his feathers about it, instead of getting upset, instead of having a chip on his shoulder as I feel so many men would about it. . .he understands why she does so.

Penelope is a woman who has been largely treated poorly in her society. She feels unheard, she feels undesired, and in her circumstances, and I can't help but ask myself. . .has anyone ever truly apologized to Penelope for hurting her, before? Her mother? Her sisters? Eloise, likely, but. . .anyone else? And the way Colin did? Because of all the characters in the show, Colin? Colin knows how to apologize. He has a lot of practice in it. And very importantly: Colin, a man of privilege in his society, apologizes. . .predominately to women. To Marina, to his mother, and multiple times to Penelope.

Ultimately, Penelope wants to be heard, Penelope wants to be understood, Penelope wants to feel desired.

And Colin checks every single one of those boxes. He informs he is not who he was before, and then he proves it to her. He hears that he hurt her, and he comments on it directly. An entire night apart, and he comes back to her 'Because I embarrass you' with 'I am most certainly not ashamed of you', replies to her 'I am a laughingstock' with 'you are clever, and warm, and I am proud to call you my good friend'. He hears her proclaim her own insecurities, and empathizes so deeply with her. He listens. He understands. He makes clear that he cares for her, and that she *is* desired. 'You lift my spirits' 'I seek you out at every social assembly'. That she helps him see the world in ways he loves, that he sees HER and how much she has cared for HIM, that she makes him feel appreciated, that he appreciates her, in turn.

And then? Then? He shows her. He tells her, and he shows her. His actions all throughout Season 3 reinforce this apology. He continues looking for her in every corner of every ballroom, he continues complimenting her, he laughs at her jokes and respects her boundaries, he is ever so gentle with her, he listens to her with an attentiveness that no one else has ever given her. To Lady Whistledown? Sure. But to Penelope? Who else in the entirety of that ton has listened to Penelope the way Colin has?

Absolutely no one.

Penelope Featherington ghosts Colin Bridgerton for months with no explanation, and Colin comes back wanting to reach out to her, and she finally tells him why.

And he apologizes. Because he listens. Really, truly listens. And really truly cares.

I need you to understand how rare that is, even nowadays, but especially back then. That Colin is the kind of man who can put his hurt to the side and realize he made a mistake, that he said something callous, and he adores her, and he can't lose her, and he has to see her and make it right.

Because that's why Penelope fell for Colin. Not because he's beautiful, not for his charm, not for his family. But for his heart. Because he shows her kindness in a world that so often disregards her. Because he seeks her out and tries to understand her, truly hears what she has to say and compliments her, says he's sorry and looks at things from her perspective.

Because he saw her when she was invisible.

Penelope Featherington, who grew up in a house that made cruel jabs at her, has Colin Bridgerton come to her and say he regrets what he said, and that he was wrong, and that he understands why she's mad at him. Penelope Featherington who has so rarely had much of anyone tell her that they're sorry for what they said about her, sits before Colin Bridgerton as he professes how much she means to him. That he cannot even spend a full day away from her knowing they're on bad terms with each other without making it right. That he sees how she is hurting and he has to in any way he can amend it. She is lonely, with no one really in her corner at the start of season 3, and she feels like she lost it all, and Colin comes to her and says 'no, I'm here and I appreciate you and you are special to me, please let me in and let me prove it'. Is it any wonder why after she shakes his hand, she stands in the sun, and she feels the warmth of it, she can smile? That she can breathe, again? That she can be truly content for the first time in the season?

Because Penelope Featherington does not want Colin to beg. She knows him. She knows the tender, full heart he hides behind the new cavalier persona. She knows the soft underbelly of Colin Bridgerton.

He never had to grovel. All he had to do was love her. Assuredly. Fervently. Loudly. Unapologetically.

And he does.

[jamandjazz]

“I love Soda more than I’ve ever loved anyone, even Mom and Dad.” I think about this quote all the time and just kinda cry because oh my god they love each other so much and they’re BROTHERS and and—

[brrdhouse]

i've been given the incentive to write angst about MORE of them.... yes..... 😈🫶

aka, just talking about his relationships with people you brought up because me? overanalyzing relationships between characters who either hate each other or never interact in canon? never. i'd never do that

pacifica:

pacifica wasn't allowed to have close friends growing up. she could've been friends with gideon, the gleefuls were influential enough in town that her parents didn't completely disregard them, but he was younger and immature so she didn't pay him much mind. then she got older, and she met the pines twins who helped her move past her parents' prejudice, and that year she spent working with gideon at greasy's was one of the best she'd had, spending time with someone who knows so intimately how it feels to be outcasted and above it all at the same time. when he told her about what the amulet really did to him, she was horrified. she knew firsthand how horrible the supernatural could be, but would it really kill a kid? he couldn't even drink yet, and he'd be gone? when he left the year after, they kept in close contact, and she'd send him workplace drama and food recommendations, and he'd mail her clothes he knew she'd like and tell her about random gossip he heard on the train.

and when he died, she was one of the first to know. melody called her while they were waiting for an ambulance, and she showed up before they did. she cried, waited with them, and ended up sobbing into wendy's shoulder when she came after soos called her too.

at the funeral, she wore an overly-dramatic veil, sunglasses, and a chic black dress. he had sent her the dress, and she called him in fake-anger yelling about if he really thought she'd dress like a goth freak, but they had a good laugh about it. she cried the hardest. dipper was the one who first noticed how her mascara was slowly dripping down her face, and he held her hand tight for the rest of the service.

and after... she didn't really know what to do. one of the first people she'd ever let in and see the meanest parts of herself, even as they were healing, was gone and she couldn't do anything about it. it'd been years since she learned that money couldn't solve anything, but there was always that desperate hope that whatever took him could take her money and bring him back to her.

things got better, eventually. she couldn't drink certain wines or wear certain clothes because she could practically hear him call it tacky or because she knew he'd been the one to pick it out for her. she did wear some things he gave her, there's no way she could avoid it, but there were some that were for comfort and some that had to be preserved. that black dress was perfectly ironed and hung in it's own alcove, outcasted. above it all.

robbie:

just because you said all that, i'm taking it into my own fanon 😈

robbie hadn't given much thought to the gleefuls, honest. he knew they existed, but the first time he truly interacted with gideon was that year he stayed in town. he was wearing the shirt for a band he knew no one cared about when gideon said off-handedly, "y'know i saw them live. definitely seen better, but it was alright."

and so when gideon started texting everyone, he'd ask robbie if he liked the band on whatever poster he saw. then, it was getting their shirts and CDs and sending them back to gravity falls so robbie could be pretentiously punk about them.

robbie wore one of those shirts to the funeral. the rest of his gang did too in a somber solidarity, wearing them with neatly-pressed blazers. he'd worn it when he helped his dad get gideon in a blindingly blue suit, when he dabbled blue glitter on the boy's eyelids and brown on his lips, and when he watched his mom tuck a bright bouquet under gideon's arms.

he doesn't cry at the funeral, he just looks angry. and he is. he is angry. he's pissed, honestly, moreso at the apathy he's seeing than anything else. there is a dead 23-year-old in that casket, and no matter how much foundation he caked onto that kid's face, he can't hide the fact that this town killed gideon gleeful. weird things happen all the time, and it's cool when those weird things are gnomes or fairies or love spells, but those aren't killing people, and no one seems to care that this town's stupid anomalies are hurting them. this isn't some sort of cosmic punishment for gideon's wrongdoings—those had happened years ago in a throne room at the end of the world. this is just cruel.

he cries when he gets home and spends the next year in grief-stricken anger for the corpse he had to play dress-up with. mabel invites him to coffee the next time she's in town and they talk, and he can see how she's angry too but working through it, and it makes him consider that maybe he can work through his, too.

stanley:

stan didn't like "li'l gideon." he didn't, and he'll never be ashamed of his distaste for the kid.

but gideon? just gideon, the young man who sent him pictures of crappily-made bobbleheads and obviously-fake cryptids? that was a good kid. sassy as all hell and mean when he wanted to be, but what college-aged guy wasn't.

stan showed up to the funeral in a basic black suit, same as ford, with a "li'l gideon" pin on his lapel, polished and gleaming. he hugs his niece, who is already sniffling, and then his son successor who is already sobbing, knowing their hearts are too big to carry on their own. he greets everyone else from town, shares a moment with his nephew and other niece ex-employee, gives his condolences to the family, and sits down.

stan pines does not cry. his voice doesn't shake when he steps up to the podium to tell a funny story or two or ten about the deceased. and he absolutely does not stare into the casket, thinking about how many kids he saw on the move who just wanted to find themselves and found themselves in a grave, even if the one in front of him knew that it was coming.

he does give bud a rare nod of solidarity after he leaves, and that's all he's willing to admit to.

it gets a little harder after that. he's off with ford on some foreign port and he takes a picture of a silly gift shop and realizes, oh, i can send this to my niblings and their friends but the brat won't get a giggle out of it. he's visiting the gravity falls pool the next summer and that chair in the "perfect spot" has someone else in it, some random tourist, and stan finds another one. he sees a sideshow psychic and starts ragging on the guy but... it's not him. it's not the spoiled little kid that he'd shoo out of his house with a broom, or who he'd see doing his public service on the side of the street with the rest of his gang, or the young man he'd grown into matching stan beat-for-beat on a con, where he could almost see himself.

he really needed to stop getting attached to these kids. hopefully he goes before the next one does.

the others support him, ford obviously and especially, and the grief slides into the rest of the weight he drags around, but it still makes his shoulders heavier.

sorry if these rambles are boring ack! i wanted to do everyone but it was taking enough out of me to write these so.. paz, robbie, and stan and the brat they miss so dearly :,)

i am also so upset (in a great way) about deity!robbie and his care for that little guy, even if it confuses baby!gid because why is this guy here? where's soos? should he be worried, is this something he saw in the journal? and then it's the chill of death and the warmth of love . they make me sick! i'm ill! deranged, even!

teen gideon headcanons because i love him :] i am constantly thinking about him and how he's the only zodiac member (and honestly, only main-ish character because of the book of bill and the website) that doesn't get a sympathetic moment, other than POSSIBLY the finale but that barely counts

i think he deserves to have a SORT OF redemption, at least internally, because he took dipper's advice in weirdmageddon to heart. even if he gets over his crush on mabel (which i think he does. mom said its my canon now) theres still the truth of "people wont wanna be around you if youre a selfish prick"

anyways he makes me emotional so i'm giving him attention

im scared tumblr will kill the quality on my tiny handwriting so transcription under the cut:

after turning like 15, he just starts traveling, gets out of oregon and hits the ground running

uses my headcanon (?) that the amulet takes years from you, and gideon probably won't live past his 20s

he finds this out, has a total mid-life (literally) crisis at 14-15 and decides to do anything "normal" he can do because he doesn't have long to do it

ofc he still has anger issues and obsesses over people and everything else, but he's a lot better at managing it [than] when he was a kid

he doesn't care if he dies with people still hating him, but he wants it to be known that he tried

[theonewithval]

A "wouldn't risk losing you" kind of concern, when work and personal relationship's lines get blurred

Just rewatched this scene in my native language too because I love comparing translations and Ziva instead of "I saw you..." says "I was afraid you..." ("could be killed by that gunshot", maybe) she was afraid she could lose him so much, she had to do whatever she could to avoid that

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 749: The last Straight Road*

(NdT.: same pun Kinaka always makes with his name and the word for straight road)

Pag 1

1: I....

3: Imaizumi-san!!

4: Go- good work!!

Good work!!

You were taking a long time for this lap

Pag 2

1: Yes, teh, I got a fl-fl-flat- my bike!!

Yessir!!

2: It's the tire!!

4: Only tires can get a flat

Ah- damn, yes, that's right

Right!!

6: I thought something like this might have happened, so I brought these

Replacement tubes, tire levers, and a pump. Use them

Pag 3

2: This is unusual!! I never thought Imaizumi-san was the attentive type – is it just for us!?

Yeah!! I thought first and second years were just not important to him....

3: You don't want to use the,?

We'll use them, thank you so much!!

4: You saved us, teh....!!

That's true

6: Ah, uhm... but..... Imaizumi-san

Earlier you said that

7: Sugimoto-san won't come”, what did you mean?

Pag 4

1: He retired

Pag 5

1: He's still displayed on the board, but

3: There's still time until midnight

If Sugimoto-kun....

4: Please leave the possibility open in case Sugimoto-kun wants to come back!!

5: Onoda insisted

6: Re... tired.....

Sugi..... moto-san....

Pag 6

1: He used up all his stamina and mental strength in his fight against Danchiku, and he was defeated

2: You didn't notice because you've been on the course the whole time

4: Ah... actually, when it got dark, Sugimoto-san and Danchiku-san passed us various times... teh

Huh!? That? So at that time-!?

5: You have no time to talk about unimportant things

As soon as you're done with the repairs, run, first years

6: Soon

Pag 7

1: Waa, ye-yes, teh, thank you for the tools

Yeah, there's still 40km

2: If we join our strengths....

Don't cooperate

5: Teh!?

7: From now on, you can't allow yourselves to run like friends

8: Huh....

Our “buddies” stickers.....!?

You have to fight

Pag 8

1: And win the last spot to be an Inter High member!!

Pag 9

1: Fa.... ight....

2: Against.... Kinaka-kun

3: Against.... Rokudai

4: 35km left!!

Gooo!! Kinakaa, Rokudaii!!

Do your best...!!

5: I feel like they'll be able to run the 1000km!!

Amazing!

Ah, but there was no distance between them just now?

Pag 10

1: Fight....

2: The spot as a regular in the two-times national champion, Sohoku....

3: I can't take it by just being friendly....!!

4: And also

5: There's Sugimoto-san's wish!!

Pag 11

1: Wa- wait, please, Imaizumi-san

But.... if in this training camp the condition to become the sixth regular was to finish the 1000km first....

2: Then why did Sugimoto-san and Danchiku-san race!?

4: I came here to give you a message from Sugimoto

5: I think, I think it's necessary, you know

Sohoku is a team that connect and support each other

6: Just like during our first year, you, Naruko, and Onoda, connected your wishes and aimed for the goal

7: And last year Kaburagi ran with Aoyagi-san and carried the team until the mountains on the third day

8: So I think we need it

9: Our third year Inter High members

Pag 12

1: Definitely need a “first year”!!

3: Even if he knew he was making his own situation worse, he thought about the best shape for the team would be

4: He accepted it, and fought

Pag 13

1: For the fifth place

3: Among the first years, those two are left, I look forward to see what they do!!

That's too much food

4: Danchiku probably understood it, too

That's why he fought with all his strength

6: Now you two have to run with the weight of those expectations on your back!!

7: Fight, against your opponent and against yourself!! Use all your strength

Pag 14

1: And pull to yourself that last jersey!!

2: Straaa-

Pag 15

1: Straight roaaad!!

2: - traight!!

3: …. ngh

Ugh.....

4: Kinaka-kun.....

5: Don't cry, Rokudai!!

Pag 16

1: What are you doing, oi!! I'll leave you behind like this!! I'll tear you off!!

If you give up, then it's lucky for me!!

2: My goal has always been the Inter High jersey!!

To get back at those senpai who made fun of me!!

3: To show it to the Onii-san who taught me how to ride bikes!!

So, for that....

6: So I'm telling you not to cry!!

Pag 17

1: But, Kinaka-kun....

It's that your “Straitgh road”, wasn't fast at all....!!

4: You knee? It's your knee, right?

Since when? Since a while ago?

5: Since when we were at about 800km

Pag 18

1: It's a race, Rokudai

2: You should have told me, teh

I didn't notice, teh!!

3: I'm such an incapable former manager, teh....

4: Since when I lost to you in the first years' race

6: I've been thinking that I would definitely not lose the next time we race

7: Even though the truth is that I don't really care about that anymore

So, once again...

Pag 19

1: It's a race, Rokudai!!

3: Let's do it, Rokudai!!

I can't, teh

4: Race me, pedal!!

I don't want to, teh....

5: Fight me!!

I won't pedal, teh

Pag 20

1: Because, if I fight you now, Kinaka-kun, I'll end up winning, teh

Pag 22

1: With that kindness of yours, support our senpai during the Inter High