#like when i get a certain way my go to response to it nowadays is to isolate and typically that would be a bad thing

[hella1975]

the harsher parts of mental illness are always treated so so badly in media and it's genuinely very special to see someone handling them gently - especially because you've said it's very personal for you and that makes it so much easier to like? live in i suppose? because like you said the guilt can be overwhelming and the crushing weight of knowing KNOWING that you're one bad day away from wrecking an important relationship just out of pure FEAR can be so debilitating to live with especially bc people do fundamentally view that as just. a bitch response. knee jerk malice. but it's not half the time it's sheer fear (which doesn't excuse it but it does explain more) so it's nice to see that being treated like the actual complex response it is <3

yes omfg i need to stop getting surprised when taob winds up being incredibly cathartic for me bc i put a bit of myself in it and (shocker!) there are people like that who actually get it. like there are multiple people that to this day ACTIVELY dislike me because i not only said something bad to them but because i ON PURPOSE took the thing i knew would hurt them most and said it in the harshest way i possibly could. like that was a conscious effort on my part i went out of my way to think about what would hurt them and i just went for their jugular. but i wasn't doing it for the sake of meanness any more than i was doing it because they deserved it. like i said before there are two instances when i do this and that's as a defence mechanism or to self-destruct. i dont really do the former anymore - and that took YEARS to grow out of bc that was my Main Response to literally ANY conversation i didnt want to have. people are significantly less likely to ask you personal questions if you immediately try and make them cry when they do lol. this is where 90% of my 'i was a bitch in secondary school' posting comes from - but ironically the less i gave into the former the more it translated into the latter, so i lost either way and so did the people around me. i really dont think im that bad anymore bc i found ways around it and now i cant think off the top of my head anything even CLOSE to what i used to do that's happened recently, but i have YEARS OLD guilt from long dead friendships that i will - and deserve to - live with forever bc regardless of the reasoning behind it i still said terrible things. and like. it never gets talked about bc from an outside pov im very obviously being a complete cunt and who would want to sympathise with that

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

[samuelsdean]

New Favorite Game

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: maybe a part of spencer has always been sadistic but seeing your tears, seeing you mindless in pleasure has awakened something sinister in him. and spencer is nothing but a competitive, eager learner. (part 1 to new favorite banter, but this can be read as a standalone.)

genre: smut (minors dni!)

warnings: smut without plot, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dom/sub undertones, slightly mean!spencer, rough sex, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, mating press & doggy style (tell me if i forgot to add something!)

word count: 834

author's notes: my first ever smutty piece! i'm kinda happy with how it turned out but considering it's my first time writing smut, i know i have lots to improve on. however, i hope everyone will still like this. with that said, please tell me your thoughts about this & minors do not interact (please)! anyway, have fun reading! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

PART TWO

SPENCER CAN’T BELIEVE THERE’S A PART OF HIM THAT ENJOYS SEEING YOU CRYING. It’s cruel. Sadistic, yet he can’t help it. The sight of you wailing, begging him for more, begging him to go harder, deeper gets him going.

Pounding you into the sheets, Spencer thinks he just died and entered heaven with how delicious your cunt has tightened. Your cries and moans are so loud, he’s certain he’s getting a noise complaint in the morning. His very first one, considering he’s rarely home and he’s a stickler for rules.

Plus, he never thought he had it in him to make a woman cry out in pleasure.

He’s not Morgan, who, when compared to him, is very experienced in that department. Derek always had a line of girls whenever the team went out for drinks until he met Savannah. Nowadays, Derek is a one-woman kind of guy.

Spencer is definitely unlike Rossi, who had a revolving door of spouses, no offense meant. Of course, Rossi knew a lot of things when it comes to women.

Spencer is not like Hotch, for certain. Hotch is a father, of course, he knows a thing or two about the many ways in the acts of sexual prowess.

So, when the night with you took a steamy turn, Spencer didn’t think he’d be able to bend you over the table, pound you into the mattress, and blow your back out in just one night. He thought it’d be done so soon but no.

You were insatiable.

You weren’t content with just simple foreplay and fucking him in one position. You were relentless and Spencer was eager to please you.

Spencer was eager to get lost in your body.

And now, Spencer has you on your back, legs folded toward your chest, as he fucked you into total submission. His strokes were so deep, he could feel his tip nudging your cervix. He knows you’ll be sore by the time the sun rises but he can’t help it. It feels so good to be buried deep inside you.

This might just be Spencer’s favorite position. He gets to pound you relentlessly. He has you at his mercy as he burrows into you rhythmically, entirely, while seeing your face wet with fresh tears as his sweat beads and trickles down to you.

He likes that he gets to see how much of a mess he has made when he looks down and sees himself entering your cunt, hearing the sloppiness and the sound of sloshing.

God, you were so wet. How is that possible? How could someone get that wet? Spencer knows the answer but he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it when he has your body writhing under him.

“More, Spencer,” You sob as you fisted the sheets you laid on, writhing and moving your hips in time with Spencer’s. “P-please, baby. I’m so close. Shit, close, fuck!”

“You feel so good.” Spencer groans in response, punctuating each word with a deep thrust, causing you to whimper, slight drool rolling down the side of your lips. “Is that what you want?”

Too lost in the pleasure, your eyes roll so far back, your body moving to your own accord. You couldn’t hear what Spencer has just said. You couldn’t even begin to process a single syllable he has uttered. Not a single coherent thought going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. 

Spencer, although exhilarated that he has reduced you to just a pile of gyrating flesh, does not like the lack of response at all. Grunting, he flips your body over which caused him to slip out in the process.

“No. No. No.” You whine pathetically, cunt trying to clamp down on him as you feel him slip out. You scratch whatever you could get your hands on in protest. The sheets. The pillows. Spencer. “Y-you’re m-me—shit—mean, Spence. P-please! Cum! I wanna cum! Please!”

“Mean?” Spencer glowers mid-thrust, gripping your hips hard enough to leave purple bruises you’ll be sporting for at least a week. 

He’s being mean? Hasn’t he done everything you’ve asked for tonight? He has given in to all of your demands, prolonging your pleasure, and reducing you to tears, but he’s being mean?

“You want mean, princess?” Spencer asks as you sobbed, trying to get him to move but his hands hinder you from doing so. His cock deliciously pressed against that one spot inside of you. But it wasn’t enough. You want the entirety of him inside you. You want to be filled up to the brim. Your cunt molded to the shape of his cock. “I’ll show you mean.”

Maybe a part of Spencer has always been sadistic but seeing your tears, seeing you mindless in pleasure has awakened something sinister in him. And Spencer is nothing but a competitive, eager learner.

This might just be Spencer’s new favorite game. Pleasuring you until you become a boneless, mindless, and thrashing mess.  

And he always gets what he wants.

[justaticklishdeer]

Video Killed The Radio Star (with tickles.)

Dedicated to @aleestor !! (enjoy :> ) Vox notices Alastor seems a bit off and decides to help out in rather unconventional ways.

TW/CW: Tickles (a lil intense,) restraints, a bit of angst at the beginning, fluffy! Somewhat RadioStatic?

Word count: 1.3K!

A certain TV demon was walking down the street. Vox looks around, unimpressed with the flocks of demons murdering each other. He walks up to a meat shop, a certain deer sitting outside it. The demon’s ears pin in mock irritation. ‘Go away,’ Alastor hisses, his grin tightening in annoyance. ‘Hmm, I’d rather not,’ Vox hums, leaning on the table. Alastor leans back, growling. ‘Y’know, I run a rich company. Ya should join me.’ 

‘I am perfectly fine with my radio, Vox,’ Alastor mutters, jumping back as Vox gets closer. ‘Trust us,’ Vox says in a mockingly happy tone. Alastor rolls his eyes, standing up. ‘At least I don’t spend my days in front of a screen. Oh wait, you are the screen.’ 

Vox snorts, ‘oh, the buck finally has a sense of humor!’

Alastor growls back, ‘I’ll show you humor when I devour you in front of your colleagues!’

‘I have a multimillion dollar company with some of the best employees imaginable!’ Vox scoffs back. He had noticed Alastor hadn’t gone for a full on physical fight yet. ‘At least I have a ton of fans and followers who do what I say, as well,’ Vox smirks, leaning close to Alastor who scowls at him. ‘At least I have some creativity when it comes to showing off,’ Alastor sneers, his ears pinning in displeasure. ‘You’re only jealous because people prefer a modern overlord rather than an old timey radio host! Just remember, radio is dying out! And people prefer the modern path nowadays!’ Vox snaps back. Alastor stands up, backing away. As he stalked off, ignoring the television, his smile fades, if only for a minute. Vox stops, staring at him with a confused look.  ‘Al, wait, I didn't mean–are you okay?’ Vox asks, starting towards him. Alastor simply dissipates into the shadows without a response. Vox’s only thought running through his mind?…was Alastor okay?

Alastor’s ears flick at the sound of a small zap and a thud. He turns around, his coat off and slung on a chair. His smile wasn’t even there. The deer looks for the source of the sound, casting an unamused look at the heap on the floor. 

‘Vox, why?’ he growls. ‘You–you seemed upset!’ Vox says as he stands up, brushing himself off. Alastor’s smile comes back, though not nearly as genuine as Vox would’ve liked. ‘I am fine,’ Alastor replies simply, walking across his radio tower and sitting down on the floor, staring blankly out one of the tinted windows.

Vox comes up behind him, holding Alastor’s coat. Alastor goes to grab it, but Vox quickly grabs his wrists and ties them together with the sleeves of the coat. ‘What in the hell are you doing?’ Alastor growls, feeling oddly vulnerable with his arms restrained like this…pride be damned, he wasn't letting this prick gain full control. 

Vox ties his restrained arms to a nearby post on the wall. Alastor growls. ‘I can summon–’ ‘You haven't,’ Vox cuts him off with a smug grin. He walks up to Alastor, gently pushing his shirt up to expose Alastor’s belly, his whole body covered in this downy deer-like fur. Vox curiously traces a claw on the deer fur, earning a screech of microphone feedback from the Radio Demon. ‘No fucking way! You’re ticklish! Oh, this just got a whole lot better.’ 

Alastor struggles and pulls on the ties of his coat, clearly trying to escape. Although, he would have melted into the shadows if he hated it that bad… Vox starts to scritch quicker over Alastor’s belly, and he could see the demon shaking. ‘Oh, come on, let it out. You know you need to. Just let me tickle you silly. You clearly need it, otherwise you would’ve melted into your shadows by now. Yeah?’ Vox inquires, fingers sliding near Alastor’s navel, earning a snort. ‘Oh, so this is a bad spot? Hmm? Is it?’ Vox teases, fingers teasing the tickly fur near Alastor’s navel.

Alastor arches his back, head shaking in an odd mix of defiance and giddiness. ‘And remember, Alastor...this is just the beginning. I'll have you begging for mercy each time I touch your ticklish belly. And if you're a good sport about it, I might just find other spots that make you squirm,’ Vox chuckles darkly, switching to the demon’s ribs, earning a muffled whiny giggle. ‘st..st-ahap–!’ Alastor gasps out, shaking his head again, ears flicking. Vox slowly massages his fingers into the skin, over the ribcage underneath. The deer cackles loudly, unable to hold back his mirth. Alastor kicks his feet and shrieks. 

‘Vohohox, stahahap! Stahahap! Thihihis isn’t–snrk!--neheheccasary!’ He snorts as Vox’s claws slide close to his underarms. ‘Oh, perhaps here? Are you a ticklish little buck? C’mon, laugh it out. All of it. I’ll have you–’ Vox pauses in his ministrations as Alastor bleats like a fawn from Vox’s underarm tickling. 

They both stare at each other for a second or two, gaze unwavering. ‘Did you–’ “No!’ Alastor cuts him off quickly, face starting to flush with embarrassment. Out of all the people who were allowed to tickle him–Vox not even on that list, although, he would admit, Vox wasn’t too bad at it–he had to hear that?

‘Do that again,’ Vox chuckles, resuming the rib tickles. Alastor bleats multiple times–pride be damned, he wasn’t admitting to that!--helplessly and giddily. He had craved this for so long, his–

‘Nohohohahaha, DOHOHOHON’T!’ Alastor’s laughter increased in volume, jumping up on octave as Vox traced fingers up and down his ears. ‘I’m barely touching you,’ Vox muses, scritching behind his ears, making Alastor’s laughter wheeze as he drags in a breath and digs his hooves into the floor, arching his back and shaking his head. 

Vox moves back down to Alastor’s belly, playing with the soft fur. ‘You know, I never took you to be the sofie kinda type. You always act so stuck up and shit, y’know?’ ‘ShuhuhuHUHUT uhuhuHUP!’ he shrieks, snorting and bleating as Vox’s claws dig into his hips. ‘Aw, who’s a pretty tickle baby? Hmm? Is it you? I mean, look at you! Your tail is wagging, you haven’t tried to murder me, and you haven’t melted into the shadows yet! Perhaps you…enjoy this?’

‘If I dihihid–snrk!--wohohuld you shuhut uhup and lehehet me enjohohoy it?!’ Alastor shrieks, static invading his voice fully before he breaks out into true, genuine laughter. No radio filter at all. Vox smiled, teasing, ‘Oh, there’s that voice! Ticklish little fawn, just a helpless deer in the headlights!’ 

‘Stahahap beheheeing an ahahass–eeeeeahaaha!’ he squeals as Vox sits on his shins, facing his hooves. ‘No. Nohoho, plehehease–!’ His laughter goes silent almost instantly as Vox emits small shocks from his claws – not enough to hurt the deer, oh no. Just enough to make Alastor practically scream with pure ticklishness as the claws drag up and down his hooves.

Alastor drags in a breath and bleats loudly through laughter, much to his embarrassment. Vox stands up after a moment, moving back to Alastor’s head, scratching his ears. ‘Okahahha–EEEEAHA! I’m hahaha–hahahappy! Ehehehaha stahhahap!’ Vox slows down the tickles, making Alastor giggle frantically as he tugs on the restraints desperately. Vox reaches down and scratches claws up and down Alastor’s ribcage, the other teasing at his underarm. Alastor gives in fully, slumping as he lets the laughter consume him, filling the room with ease. 

Vox backs off after a couple more minutes, untying him. Alastor rubs his wrists a little, and Vox watches with a fond smile. ‘Are you alright now?’ he asks, coming close to pat Alastor’s shoulder. Alastor’s smile was genuine and happy as he nodded. Surprisingly not shoving Vox away. ‘Thank you…for that. I needed it.’ 

‘What was wrong anyway?’ Vox asks, grabbing Alastor’s coat for him. ‘Oh, nothing important. Just…lost in thoughts, I suppose,’ Alastor hums as he throws his coat back on, pretending his deer tail isn't wagging still. He sighs, looking up at Vox. ‘You should go, before someone wonders where you are.’ 

‘Oh, Right,’ Vox says, and smiles at Alastor before he teleports out of the room with a small zap! 

Alastor sits in his broadcasting chair, looking out the window. Perhaps I should antagonize Vox more often.

[local-ground-apple]

clown

In which Sebek in order to cope with his feelings towards certain human, decides to get you together with Silver

You were confused.

Silver was also confused.

Meanwhile Sebek was confused that his desperate attempts were shattered by the two of you.

However, Lilia wasn’t confused and he promptly organized a special-secret-meeting-without-Sebek (sadly, Malleus wasn’t invited, since he wasn’t even aware of the current situation). Oh, how you wished to be blissfully unaware of it as well.

,,Guys, I think Sebek is freaking insane”

You whispered, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. Despite Lilia’s assurance that Sebek was currently out studying in the library, you didn’t want to take any chances given the topic of today’s meeting.

,,And you noticed it just now?”

Silver retorted nonchalantly, earning an eye roll from you. Meanwhile Lilia was pouring some tea for all of you with a small, yet playful smile on his lips, which told you that he knew exactly what was Sebek’s problem this time. The way amusement was visible in Diasomnia’s vice-house warden clearly showed that he knew the root cause of Zigvolt’s weird behavior recently.

,,I mean, he was always a clown, but nowadays? He’s the clowniest clown ever. Something changed, but I can’t pinpoint his intentions”

You calmly stated, playing with the hem of the tablecloth. Silver didn’t really look that worried or surprised; after all in his eyes Sebek has always been some sort of clown. It was quite alright to disregard this situation. However, you seemed a bit concerned. You furrowed your eyebrows, pondering for a moment.

It’s not like you and Sebek were close friends. Frankly, you weren’t even sure if you could call your bizarre relationship a friendship? Perhaps, you were just colleagues or acquaintances. You couldn’t tell, since Sebek was hard to analyze.

Your first meeting ended in you two loosing your tempers and screaming at each other over some trivial matter. Then, you both got paired for the class project, that resulted in more ungodly yelling and arguing. Sebek thought that after that catastrophe of the project, you two would part your ways never to speak again. Oh, how wrong was he. You and Silver got along splendidly, so you became a frequent guest in Diasomnia, which irked Sebek who was always picking up a fight with you.

Then he spotted you reading and appreciating his favorite book, then one time you managed to calm down the horses that were scared of him for no reason, then you were impressed at him when he lifted heavy things…

And suddenly and magically, Sebek tried not to yell in your presence.

Or at least, not to yell at you specifically.

Which made you concerned for his sanity. Perhaps, you were losing him.

,,Leave him be. It’s Sebek after all, there’s no point in analyzing his behavior”

Silver stated, yawning, clearly bored with the topic of the conversation. Yet, you weren’t one to give up. Your eyes flickered and landed on Lilia who looked as if he was having time of his live. He was clearly enjoying your distress over the whole situation.

,,He is acting weird, right? I’m not going insane?”

You asked, staring at Lilia. He could hear in the tone of your voice that you were getting impatient and you were anticipating the confirmation. He let out an amused chuckle, before finally giving you a response.

,,My, my, yes. Poor Sebek has something on his mind that it’s troubling him and he doesn’t know how to deal with it”

“It’s concerning Malleus, isn’t it?”

Silver snickered, not bothering to open his eyes. You were sure that in the span of next 10 minutes, he would be asleep and peacefully napping, ignoring Sebek-situation. You rolled your eyes once again, prodding the man sitting next to you.

,,If it concerned Malleus, I would invite him here. The matter concerns two of you, Y/N more precisely”

You almost choked on your tea and Silver opened his eyes in surprise. You two had never expected that perhaps you two were the cause behind Sebek’s antics. Lilia signed heavily.

,,My, you two are really oblivious. Sebek has been trying to get you two together and so far, he is failing splendidly”

Now Silver was wide awake and clearly in shock, while you were left speechless. Although, with this explanation a lot of things began to make sense.

Sebek's first failed attempt

,,Human.”

Sebek’s oddly calm and not-so-loud voice startled you. You jumped slightly in surprise, raising one eyebrow questioningly. It wasn’t normal. Usually you would hear Sebek from a kilometer before noticing his presence.

,,Hmm, what it is?”

You asked, smiling in his direction. If you paid more attention, you would notice the way his cheeks slightly blushed and how he avoided direct eye contact, given his embarrassment. Unfortunately, you were blind and oblivious, especially when it came to this loud guy.

,, What do you think of Silver?”

Now, you were totally caught off guard.

It wasn’t your Sebek, Sebek that you knew.

You furrowed your eyebrows, squinting your eyes, eyeing him suspiciously. Yet, he refused to even look at you. He appeared a tad bit nervous, hesitant even to ask such question. Normally, Sebek was loud, honest and well, quite confident in whatever the hell he was screaming about.

,,He is a dear friend of mine”

You stated, not expecting another question that followed right behind. Sebek clenched his fists, taking a deep breath before he spoke once again.

,,Do you think Lilia-sama would give you his hand in marriage?”

Needless to say, you choked on your water.

Sebek's second failed attempt

,,Where are you dragging me now, huh?”

You asked softly. You were way too tired to be dealing with Sebek’s antics today. Yet, this knight was relentless and he wasn’t the type to give up easily.

,,Y-you will see, Human!”

If you were more observant, you would notice how his voice slightly trembled and how nervous he looked. Sebek felt as if he was about to combust from his conflicted emotions. The grip on your wrist felt firm, yet not painful. You could feel that his hand was slightly trembling.

If you paid more attention to Sebek's flushed cheeks, you would figure out that this man was nervous from the sheer proximity to you.

Yet, you were blind and oblivious human.

Sebek dragged you through almost entire Diasomnia dorm, firmly holding your wrist. You had to almost run to keep up with his pace. he was leading you through dark and unknown hallways, various stairs till you reached the highest tower in the dormitory.

You were, once again, confused.

,,Why are we here?”

You asked him, raising one of your eyebrows. You didn't expect to end up in such place. Sebek seemed even more nervous. Now, his face was red and a scowl appeared on his lips. He didn't dare to look into your eyes and he felt like his heart would explode in any second.

,,You ask too many questions, Human! Talk!”

Sebek exclaimed before he pushed you into the room. You abruptly turned on your heel after gaining some balance, yet he slammed the door right in front of your face.

You did not appreciate such treatment.

,,Sebek! You bloody idiot! Open the goddamn door, you…you clown!”

You screamed in frustration and surprise. Suddenly, you could feel your blood pressure rising abruptly. You pulled on the door handle violently, yet it didn't budge. So you opted on slamming your fists on the door, while cursing Sebek in your mind.

,,Not until you two talk out some things”

You heard his nervous voice, before you heard him leaving in hurry. Great, and now he was leaving you here for god-knows-how-long. You wanted to scream in frustration, as you hated closed spaces. Yet, his words make you wonder.

,,Two, what do you mean?”

,,Y/N, stop screaming, my head is killing me”

You jumped startled by the sleepy and tired voice sounding right behind you.

You simply couldn’t believe that Sebek locked you here with Silver.

Sebek's third failed attempt

Sebek couldn't take it anymore.

He wanted to scream in pure frustrated. Everything was perfect and carefully planned before hand. He made sure to fake Silver's handwriting when he wrote the invitation for the date. He prepared romantic dinner with candlelight, tricked you both to come there (without stating that it was a date).

Even the stars were aligned, yet you and Silver were so dumb and oblivious.

He was hiding in the bushes, observing the situation. Needless to say, Sebek was this close to loosing his composure, coming out and just yelling at you both. He was truly hopeless, beyond the repair.

You and Silver stood there awkwardly, confused.

Sebek could faintly hear you two discussing the situation, not even realising it was a date set-up.

Sebek was devastated. His conflicted feelings made themselves present once again. He clenched his fists, sighing heavily. He had hoped he would get over his complicated feelings towards you.

Yet, it was all pointless.

He was not only a clown, but also a simp. A simp for you.

And Sebek hated himself for catching romantic feelings for you, a mere human. He was delusional thinking they would go away the moment he hooked you up with Silver.

He was a clown.

His feelings only grew stronger.

Sebek shook his head, focusing once again on your figure. Everything will be alright, once they get together with Silver; he told himself. He would repeat that sentence as many times as needed to gaslight himself. A playful yet mischievous whisper behind him, slightly startled him.

,,My, my, you poor, pitiful knight~~ Mayhaps, I could suggest you something, hmm?"

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending my original fictional characters are my "friends" for the purpose of asking questions online?

Alright, so hear me out: I'm a writing hobbyist, I run a long-term D&D campaign, I like writing characters a lot and sometimes do it even outside of any stories, you could even say that it's my passion. Whenever I create a character that would have experience with something that I don't, I try to experience that thing myself, or if I can't, I ask others online about their experiences to make sure I can write my character accurately.

Here's the problem: back when I used to ask questions online from a writing/creative perspective, I felt like a lot of them concerning more controversial topics were getting dismissed and I got a lot of unsolicited writing advice unrelated to the original question. The most infuriating were always "You shouldn't write a character like that." or "You should change this integral part of the character to remove the issue that you're having."

Now, you can have whatever opinions you want about writing certain aspects of characters, but I would kindly ask you to shove them up your ass. I firmly believe that you can't judge a character accurately merely by their character traits written down in a vacuum, the execution is what really matters. One trait that could be seen as problematic when written badly can really enhance the character, story and it's themes if incorporated correctly. I'm not going to remove integral story-relevant characteristics of my OCs, and I sure as hell am not gonna delete them entirely just because an internet rando didn't believe that I could do them justice. Literally the entire reason why I'm asking these questions in the first place is because I'm trying to be as respectful/accurate to your culture/ethnicity/sexuality/gender/religion/disability/anything else. I GENUINELY want to learn and understand, so why don't you at least try to give me the benefit of the doubt instead of assuming it'll be done terribly?

Anyway, to give some examples of the questions that I've asked that were met with this kind of response:

"How would you write an autistic character who uses ASL but doesn't like to emote with their face?" (Was told to simply "make" the character like using their face even though it would go against how their other symptoms interact with each other, plus it would change how other characters view them and thus the story itself)

"What kind of slang would a black character raised in Brooklyn use?" (Was told to not write a black character using slang as a white person.)

"How would a Muslim character go about leaving their religion after losing their faith?" (Was told that the mere idea of an ex-muslim person was offensive)

I don't know if other writers also struggle with this, or if I'm just the unluckiest and always attract those kinds of people somehow, but after having to deal with it way too much I simply started lying and pretending that my characters are real so people would stop questioning my writing choices and just focus on answering my actual questions. For example, instead of the three questions above nowadays I would ask:

"Me and my Autistic friend are learning ASL together, but she doesn't like making expressions for sensory reasons. Is there anything else she can do?"

"What are some examples of actual slang used by black people in Brooklyn? My friend is from there but he likes to mess with me by coming up with fake words and pretending like they're slang, at this point idk what to believe."

"My friend lost their faith and is planning on leaving Islam. They don't have access to internet due to their parents so they wanted me to ask about what could be the possible consequences and how go about the process, or even where to start."

Also, obviously, I do way more research than just these questions, but I also really want to know the opinion of people in these communities about these topics and the discussion that develops from it. That's not something that simply reading a book or an article on a topic can give you and I believe that interacting with the community itself is an important part of properly portraying characters that belong to them as well. Still, a few of my friends told me that it's kinda shitty of me to lie in this way, especially when the end goal is to be respectful about certain traits yet me lying to these people is a sign of disrespect in their opinion. Personally I don't see it that way, I simply want people answering my questions to treat them seriously and if presenting them as real scenarios is what gets them to do it I feel like I have no choice, it has nothing to do with the respect I have for the communities in question.

Also, if this matters at all: 90% of my writing is entirely personal and will never be published in any way at all, the other 10% being the writing that I do for my D&D campaign which only my players get to witness.

So, with all of that out of the way, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[theoccultz]

🎸What is your power ? & how can you channel it for your own good.

A reading to shed light on your brightside so it helps you further with your sense of self .

General reading can resonate can not

Permission to read

The decision is always yours i'm never responsible for it

Pics not mine credits to their rightful owners

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Pile g. Pile f. Pile c.

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Pile G-

Angel number:5922

Key words-hope & establishment

This pile never stop believing in themselves they fight through their fears and still stand strong i have a feeling theres this fear of never standing again which weighs down sometimes ,you feel scared to believe in yourself cause you might make it even if the circumstances doesn't allow so

*i'm very surprised to find such a good self esteem tbh its raree*

I catch overthinkers here as well oh wait dont you find depth in situations by overthinking now i'm really against the idea forgive mefor it " that overthinking helps amd doesn't exalerate the problem" but here i do find a sense of peace in overanalysing situations now this might be your power or downfall in certain things which i do feel you acknowledge but its all safe from what i can see so don't worry by thinking about it (;

I feel like you guys like quality over quantity and people around you notice that you guys provide quality stuff the type to excel stuff for instance in 2 days which others was wondering about for 2 years maybe you are a phillosopher a good team member a nice co-worker who take care of their responsibilities or a good student who values their modesty

Your strength is your honesty pile 1 when nobody is standing firm against a power figure ...you have no problem shifting matters in your own hands and presenting your truth even when its not worth it or things might be on you for a while .

Idk why was i getting this msg so i gotta put it 1*1week before something happened that situation will heal a conflict arised within yourself or somebody's else- you got this and it will be over soon dont control it let yourself feel and be it.

I feel like this pile is high on control you might want it yourself to find balance or to sort of to put things off for wahile and thats your power ? Do u have by any chance pluto in 3rd house , Neptune in 1st or venus in 12th i feel like your visualisation sometimes helps and take a turn for the best ,you do understand ......is this for me ? What will i get if i react to it? Even if its a good opportunity you re-evaluate the process of that idea will i be able to balance this with my other work? and thats a good sense of quality in you and that way you come back 10x stronger with your stable ground which you have built.

I feel like this pile belongs to lightworkers there was this sense of manifestation,dedication , empathy towards yourself which is rare nowadays and realistic goals ofcourse.

Song i channelled which may contain messages:

Thanks for reading....hope you have a great day!!

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Pile f.

Angel number:69

Key words: lie detector, opportunist

I feel like this pile move on fast they do not dwelll on that lover who never gave them back or that job that never serves their highest good for 5 years or so , you show middle finger and move on with yourself this idea that it happened for a reason and now i'll make the best of it to never happen again is high and its very soothing to hear

Creativeness and decisiveness might be a theme for your life you wish to live your own way with your own set of wishes you dont settle for less and that might a problem for others oh how they dont want what made me "feel" accepted in this society? You might find the idea to toy around absurb you go for your goals at your own pace i feel like this pile do a lot for thselves and do not wish to jump into competitions they have a thing going on for themselves lol and thats amazing i'd say cause whos doing it like you these days ?! Yeah exactly very less than we can find .

I feel like you dress as you own the hell and thats intimidating but it helps cause others do not want to overstep your boundaries.you dont do things " just to do " you give your all and its astonishing because not everyone do it others leave it on x and they leave it " just do it to do" but its never the case for you .

I feel like you vanish from time to time lol that was random .

people feel like you wanna achieve something so you can show to them who never believed you thats nice pile 2 although they are not worth it.

You know who is fake and thats your power, people who scam others with the idea of love and fake positivity you dont let them find any opportunity to step on you ,you may have a platform or you need to honestly.

Lmao i felt like a hypeman this pile was so smooth to channel like you it had a clear vision.

Songi channelled which may contain a message:

Thanks for reading...hope you have a great day ahead!!

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Pile C.

Angel number :725

Key words: crazy ,dream-person.

You face reality even when its hard sometimes u dont want to identify your emotions with just a phase of i love myself you truly want to love yourself even if its meant to go through tough struggles of finding parts of your shadow self and taking your time to acknowledge it you hold yourself accountable and work towards it and thats powerful

We have some real people here who are inspirational and do not back down when faced with harsh crisis of life you guys might be a risk taker from what i can see you have hobbies that are very different from others hobbies- its like you into dark shit ? I'm more advanced in it wamna know lol

I'm getting a cool vibe ngl like you are peoples favourite they find you weird unusual different from the rest not not pick me 😭i'm having a hard time but still a mystery to solve yet they find themselves detangling a part of themselves through you ? hmm people are either nosy or curious like people might dislike seeing cartoons childerens because " its not their age " and still you find it interesting & dumb and others are like okay we might not agree but we respect your choice lmao are you a boss or a professor ?

If judgement were a person it would be you pile c 😆people gravitate towards your decision making skills and your complex energy ,seems like you have great ideas you might have a way to present things which is funny and entertaining as well haha.

Yeah you might have a dry sense of humour and not so right timing of saying things & it comes of as entertaining rather than insensitive becyz it changes the environment to light-hearted.

Your power is how you see things from a positive perspective and head towards the right direction even when others do not agree or see the purpose in it or it seems impossible to do so its like a inner self motivation here even when the timing is far ahead of your vision you still do not give up halfway .others may only see what you achieved but i can see how you achieve it and i wanna praise you for it you are not alone pile c you share a commmon ground with many keep being positive thank you for being here.

Ah i hope it made sense cause i feel like i get it but it was really confusing channeling the energy my goodness 🫴

Song i channelled that may contain a message:

Thanks for reading....hope you have a great day ahead!!!

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[elliespuns]

It’s definitely not a hate comment towards the actresses; it’s just a critique of the makeup staff or whoever’s responsible for that. But what I’m getting at is that both Bella and Isabela look way too young; they could pass for 10-year-old girls, and the worst part is they’re trying to sell us on Isabela carrying a child all empowered and Bella taking care of the baby like Dina’s partner??? Bella will end up looking like JJ’s slightly older sister. And can you believe both women, barely 5’1, are going to be taking down every guy in their path??? Good Lord, I’m so frustrated.

And I’m sure as hell we’ll just settle for whatever they give us and eventually accept it, but it’s not what we deserve as fans.

I agree with everything you say. Not here to dis either. I loved season 1 even though there were so many things that made me roll my eyes or mad for actually not happening at all (like all those Ellie and Joel moments they screw us over with by not delivering them and making their bond less impacful). But this is too much. I get it. They can't make the actresses meet the original Ellie's height, but with what the make-up artists can do nowadays, I was at least expecting Bella to age for the show. 

We can't have two (19 and 20) year old girls slaying everyone throughout their way of Seattle if they look like 12 year olds. Not to mention one of them is supposed to be pregnant; how's that going to look? Also, the cast for Jesse? Young Mazino definitely looks like Jesse's real age, so we're now having Dina, who is 12, date Jesse, who's over 20?

I love this duo for how capable they both are as a team. I don't mind that they won't look exactly the same, but the age, chemistry, and dynamics should fit. If I'm not getting this, I don't want anything else. 

I am not the one to point out flaws, and I usually look for the better parts in everything because I can appreciate effort, but I feel no effort really has been put into anything I've seen leaked. It feels like everyone's just pissed that Pedro won't be there on set to light up everyone's day, so they just kind of gave up on trying, or idk. It's just sad.

I can't even start thinking about certain scenes because they get even more hilarious when I imagine them based on what I've seen so far. Can you imagine the weed den scene? I don't want to watch two 12 year olds make out. Or the shamblers encounters? (if there will be any). Not even talking about the farm era, where Ellie and Dina live as a couple with a kid. If they don't make the girls age, nobody will take the whole show seriously. There are already so many people disliking S01 (most of them are game fans), and the creators just keep adding to the pile of dislikes. People are gonna be so angry and upset. 

Look, these are just leaked photos, I get it. Maybe the girls were just testing/practicing. Who knows. Maybe they'll even surprise us. But until then, I know I won't be expecting much because I'd rather expect the worst than expect a lot and then get a slap in the face.

[sofoulandfairaday]

Actually very curious to hear your thoughts and head canons on Sirius + Walburga + Orion

Under the cut, because it's very long. But I'd love it if you read it all. I hope it succeeds in being eloquent, it's hard to put my thoughts into coherent writing for such a sensitive topic.

I don't think that the majority of this fandom actually understands the subtleties of abuse. Also, too many people weirdly like the idea of abused characters, and emphasize their torments, especially physical ones, as a way of... I don't know, evoking more sympathy for them? This happens all the time with Sirius Black.

@ sofoulandfairaday, was Sirius Black abused in your opinion?

Yes.

But not in the way people think.

I am fascinated with stories that explore generational trauma, the cycles of abuse that get repeated over and over. I think Sirius was abused in the way the Roy kids in Succession are abused, in the way that the people in The Crown are abused. It's not that the people in themselves are abusive it's that the family system is.

This doesn't excuse individual adult responsibility because, at a certain point, it becomes your duty not to pass on your traumas to your children. But traumatized adults raising traumatized children is something much more realistic, to me, than “The Blacks liked torturing their children for fun” (wtf?).

The Blacks were an upper-class family in the 1950s. To put this in perspective, my parents both got physically reprimanded as children (1970s), and my grandparents did too (1950s-1940s). It was just the way things were. It wouldn't have been seen as weird if they had been hit, at the time. Do you know when corporal punishment was abolished in UK schools? 1986. And people say Snape was abusive to his students. Bro, 1986. The world has changed a lot in the last 20/30 years but it's a little unfair, in my opinion, to judge their times entirely through our lenses.

And even in light of this... I don't think the Blacks were that physically violent. Maybe Orion clipped his sons behind the ear when they really misbehaved, or threatened physical punishment, but they most likely never truly hurt their kids. I also don't think they raised their hands like filthy Muggles, so maybe... Stinging Hexes? Going to bed without supper? They definitely did not use the fucking Cruciatus curse on their children. The torture curse. The one that scrambles people's brains if used for too long. Sometimes I think that authors don't put thought behind what they write, or exaggerate for the shock value, which... doesn't really sit right with me, to say the least. I don't really care for character bashing of any character. I don't care for painting Walburga & Orion as Disney villains who hurt their children because... they? like? hurting children?

With this being said, I'm pretty sure they were emotionally abusive, maybe psychologically abusive. Tons of families are like that, even nowadays.

Master always liked his little joke,” said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, “Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother’s heart — ” “My mother didn’t have a heart, Kreacher,” Sirius snapped. “She kept herself alive out of pure spite.” Kreacher bowed again and said, “Whatever Master says,” then muttered furiously, “Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother’s boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was — ”

According to Kreacher, Sirius broke his mother's heart when he left. That might have been a dramatic choice of words (Sirius definitely thinks it is because he replies in kind) but perhaps it wasn't.

The problem with the Blacks' love for their children isn't that it wasn't there, it's that it seems very conditional. I fully believe that for a time, when he was a kid, Sirius was a little prince, a perfect pureblood heir. Given his temperament, he might have been the bad child, always in detention compared to Regulus, who was probably quieter, more shy, more poised. Except. Despite all of this or maybe because of all of this, he was probably the more respected out of the two: more handsome, more charismatic, more outspoken, stronger, quicker. Someone like Bellatrix (and Walburga too, I think) must have respected him much more than his brother, even though they probably said the opposite out loud. Sure, they liked Regulus more, but everyone knew he wasn't the brightest out of the two stars. I think the Blacks respected and praised strength.

Want proof of this? Sirius himself calls Regulus soft and an idiot. How many times do you think he heard that sentence as a child?

For these reasons, it's always been my headcanon that the two brothers grew up resenting each other subtly: Sirius probably envied that his brother was their mama's favourite, the one who was shown more affection, despite being not as bright as him, not as good. But children are petty and have very strong senses of pride. In stressful environments they latch onto the identities they create for themselves: if Sirius painted himself, in the family dynamics, as the strong one, the one who doesn't care, the one who rejects even his parents' rare moments of affection, he will most likely never be the one to go to them to beg for their love, or kisses or whatever. On the other hand, Regulus was probably babied by their parents, but never truly treated like the heir, like the competent, brilliant one. His mother might have been more tender with him and yelled at him less, but children are perceptive.

Also, Grimmauld Place has all the characteristics of the Haunted Hause trope, horror film style (which I cannot get into here lest this becomes a dissertation), but generational trauma likely permeates those walls. Merely being back in the house is enough to trigger Sirius' depression.

Sirius is my pride, but Regulus is my joy sort of dynamic for the Blacks and their parents, me thinks.

They love each other but are also constantly pitted against each other. They fight for their parents' love. They think the other had it easier.

Then, Sirius is sorted into Gryffindor. Now, he's already fighting back against his parents now (he's almost 12, the perfect age), but it's always been a little headcanon of mine that Sirius doesn't know how much this will damage him until it happens. We see, again and again and again, in-universe, how much stress the Sorting put kids through - what if I'm not in this house my parents were sorted into? From the way he appears in Snape's memories on the Hogwarts Express, I think Sirius must have thought it hilarious if he was sorted into Gryffindor, the first Black ever to be one. Truly a most rebellious act. This lasted about... seven seconds?

The next day, Walburga sends a Howler and she's the most displeased Sirius has ever heard her, this is not a joke, Sirius, how dare you? You are such a disappointment etc.

Disappointment. The family disappointment.

This becomes Sirius' new persona. The more he leans into it, the more his mother doubles down. Headcanon n°2: they have the same personality, Walburga and Sirius; Regulus takes after Orion.

Golden-child/scapegoat dynamic ensues, worse than ever. This is the abuse I was referring to: no matter how brilliant, how high his grades, how good Sirius is, it'll never be enough. He's the foil to Regulus - less good in school, less brilliant, less popular, less... So. He fraternizes with Mudbloods and werewolves and dissenters of our Lord and Saviour Voldemort, which is a disgrace. He comes back from his first year saying Muggleborn instead of Mudblood, puts up semi-naked Muggle girl posters in his room with a permanent sticking charm - every time Walburga is in there her stomach flips in disgust. He buys himself a Muggle motorbike.

He can never bring himself to tell his parents that he wants their love and approval and they think he wants everything but. Not just that, they think he's actively trying to drive them to an early grave with all of that rebelling.

This, by the way, puts an enormous amount of stress on Regulus. Now he has to step up, wants to step up, to prove himself as finally better, but also he doesn't want to lose his older brother, but also he can never live up to the comparison, but also why do his parents love him now that Sirius is gone, why couldn't they love him better, sooner? This breeds resentment. Desperate to prove himself, he joins the Death Eaters (whose ideas he fully embraced anyway, let's not forget that Reggie was a racist little arse).

Why did Sirius run away?

This fandom makes the MISTAKE of thinking that Sirius ran away because his parents were evil and mean. No. Nu-uh. That's not what happened.

“But… why did you…?” “Leave?” Sirius smiled bitterly and ran his fingers through his long, unkempt hair. “Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal… my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them… that’s him.” Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name Regulus Black. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth. “He was younger than me,” said Sirius, “and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded.”

Sirius hated his parents and his brother, but he doesn't offer any indication that they were physically violent towards him - sure, they sound like dicks and they definitely created a situation of emotional abuse (why can't you be more like your brother?), which is still very scarring for a child/teenager, but no indication that they ever brutalized him.

I'm not saying this to argue that emotional or psychological abuse (lying, gaslighting, justifying treating your children horribly with oh, but I'm doing it for your own good, etc.) is less damaging than physical abuse. But I think that half the fandom just writes in a few rounds of Cruciatus to get out of writing the hard stuff - the complexities, subtleties, two-way pain of dysfunctional households.

When Sirius ran away from home, Orion and Walburga blasted him off the family tree. That means that he couldn't come back even if he tried to. He had no family any longer. Running away from home is something that a teenager in Sirius' situation and with his personality might conceivably do - and I'm sure it did hurt his family. But his betrayal was followed by their own betrayal.

Also, I want to contrast this with BELLATRIX and the way she speaks of Andromeda (because we all know that she's actually referring to Andromeda in that first quote):

“Cissy, your own sister? You wouldn’t — ” (HBP) “She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “We — Narcissa and I — have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.” (DH)

and Walburga:

“- comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he’s back, they say he’s a murderer too -”

Bella, even after 25 years, still calls Andromeda her sister. Sure, Ted and Dora can rot - nay, she wants to actively kill them -, but Andy is her sister. Walburga declares that Sirius is no son of hers. She cut ties with him just as much as he cut ties with them. He lived with the Potters until Alphard died and miraculously left him gold; he didn't have a Galleon to his name otherwise. This is incredibly hurtful for a child. He was sixteen.

So. Anyways. This is getting rambly, but I hope I got my point across.

As for pure headcanons, that have no actual basis in the text:

All the Blacks are hot, but Orion & Burgie were not the hottest of them. That title goes to Alphard & Lucretia and then Sirius & Bellatrix in the next generation.

Orion is like Regulus in nature, and Walburga is like Sirius. Ice and Fire. On the other hand, physically, Sirius looks like his dad and Reggie looks like his mum. (Which is not to say much because they are second cousins, and the Black genes are strong lol)

(By the way, they are second cousins guys, not first cousins, not brother and sister!)

Orion wears exclusively shades of black and grey.

He's a quiet man, likes to read, despises noise.

A heavy drinker since he was young, it became a coping mechanism after Sirius' turbulent teenage years, almost drank himself to death when Regulus died. That's not what got him in the end, but it could have very well been.

Walburga always had a temper on her, could scream like a banshee, but she wasn't insane until one son abandoned her for the lowliest of scum and she lost her youngest boy and her husband in the span of six? three? months.

Austere. I can imagine her with her hair pinned up, high necklines... always very proper, with a severe type of beauty. I really like that aesthetic for her.

Crack: Definitely involved in the infamous Love Triangle of '43 when Tom Riddle tried to ask her out (to get access to the Black Family library's Dark Arts books) and she rejected him (not my headcanon btw, I remember reading it on here but I can't remember who came up with it rn - if anyone knows, I'll give credit!). Guess who was smitten with him? Alphard. Chaos of the kind you're thinking ensues.

Theirs was a semi-arranged marriage (there were wink-wink, nudge-nudges from other members of the family and the two of them decided it would be advantageous). I don't think they loved each other but they had a good partnership, gave the House of Black two heirs. (lol, see how that turned out)

Walburga had pregnancy issues, which I headcanon for every single woman of the House of Black, except the only one who was-maybe-sorta-kinda relying on them: Andromeda.

That's all, folks!

(I think.)

[santacoppelia]

Of fandom, age, and David Tennant being our own personal Time Lord

I read the fantastic post that @davidtennantgenderenvy wrote about David Tennant and aging (if you haven’t yet read it, go for it!) and, as a fan who is closer to DT's age range than to what seems to be the rest of the fan base's age (yeah, being well over 40 is A THING), I had an interesting mix of ideas and emotions. I was going to just reblog her post with some of these musings, but when this started getting longer (and I started searching for bibliography, ha), I decided that I was not going to hijack her post, but rather cite it (and reblog it on its own right, really, read it). I should say that this is a long essay, and it comes peppered with references to one of my preferred fields of study (but I make it light and fun, promise).

Becoming an “old geek”

The first time I came into the idea was when I found a thirst TikTok with that very nice audio that goes “I think I need someone older…” and clearly, the thirst was there, but also… David is 8 years older than me, and when you are 45, thirsting over someone who is 53 doesn’t feel as “edgy” (and thinking about “needing someone older” starts verging on thirsting over people well over 65, which is absolutely fine, but a very different category over all for the rest of TikTok). So yeah, it was weird. You see someone who you feel is "in your range" and everyone is calling them "old"… And you start thinking about aging, inevitably.

Of course, I "don't feel old", but most of my friends are younger than me, and I'm the oldest person in many of my "fun activities". Take, for example, my lightsaber combat team, where every sponsorship is pitched to people under 30, and you should be training at least twice a week and following a strict diet to reach the expected “competitive or exhibition” level (enter the “old lady” who is taking this training just for fun, who needs to take care of her joints and who is not going to be invested in becoming Jedi Master General or anything of the sorts in the near future). Or we can talk about the expectation about fandom in general being a “teenage phase”, and thinking about everyone who still is into it actively after certain age as “immature” or “quirky” at best (hi, mom! Hi, work colleagues! Hi, students!).

Society, aging and social constructs

Of course, this has a lot to do with societal expectations. For almost 80 years, popular culture has been built around "youth" and "young people": before rock & roll, most things (music, clothes, movies, art in general) were targeted to “adults”, and you were expected to be “a functional adult” since a younger age. There was a seismic shift in the way popular culture was built when consumer culture decided to see and cater young people: trends became shorter, being “hip” was desirable, staying younger for a longer period was a nice aspiration (a good, light reading to get a deeper view around this is “Hit Makers” by Derek Thompson. It is written for marketers, but that makes it an easy historic overview and I like that). This has a lot to do with the change of our view about old people, too: while being old 100 years ago (yup, 1924 still fits the bill) made you “a respected elder” and you were expected to be wise, to know best, to be the voice of reason and an expert, nowadays not even us older people like being seen as “old” or “older”.

Frequently, culture becomes entrenched in binary oppositions. The binary opposition between “young” and “old” is… well, old! And while the opposition is sustained, the meanings around it change over time (that’s what the past paragraph was about, really). If in the 1940’s being old meant “mature, respectable, wise, responsible” and being young meant “inexperienced, immature, foolish”, after the 1950’s those meanings shifted a lot: being young became “fun, interesting, in the now and in the know, attractive”, while being old was about being “boring, dusty, passé, uninteresting, dull”.

In reality, being young can be a mix of all of these things (inexperienced and fun and foolish and attractive), and being old can be, at the same time, being responsible and wise and a little dusty and dull, because that’s life *shrugs*, and the wonder of lived experience is that, even if we simplify it, it is complex and rich and sometimes contradictory in itself: we can be old and foolish and interesting and boring, or young and dull and inexperienced and attractive. But, as we need to make “social sense” of things, simplifying them is… easier. That’s why we build stereotypes, and why we use them! We need to have a “base” of signifiers to build upon, so we usually take what we have on our environment and run with it. If you find this idea interesting, welcome to the world of cultural semiotics! *takes her Iuri Lotman picture out of her pocket and puts it on the desk*

(Iuri Lotman, people. He is my "patron saint").

Pop culture versus “real culture”

Another cultural opposition that piques my interest in this area is the notion of “pop culture”, of course. It is opposed to “real, serious culture”, the sort of thing that everyone expects "older, mature people" to enjoy. In the sixties and seventies, there were a lot of studies and writing about "high brow" and "low brow" culture, trying to keep this distinction between "things that make you familiar with the now, but have no intrinsic value" and "eternal things that cultivate your mind, soul and spirit".

Evidently, if you ask me, this is a whole load of horse manure: probably useful to fertilize other things, but with little intrinsic value on its own. My main point is not dolphins, but the idea of culture: historically, it has used to mean a lot of things; from the notion of (exactly) fertilizing something and making it grow to make it come to fruition, to the hodgepodge of practices that a social group creates when they are together and are trying to make common sense of things.

I like the latter better (that is the one I’d ascribe to if this was The Academia TM, but this is tumblr!), but another popular definition, which comes from the Illustration and has been quite prevalent, is the notion of culture as the set of cultural practices that make you a better, more intelligent, far more educated person. For example: if you want to have real culture, you have to read Shakespeare and know what a iambic pentameter is, rather than watching “10 Things I Hate About You”. You must read real books, not listen to audiobooks, and “real books” should be written by “serious authors” like (insert old white Western European or American cis men, preferably born before 1960).

Here comes the notion of “cultural canon”, grinning widely. Yup, that set of practices becomes an expectation of what and how you should experience any area of the human experience, and they become a sort of “nucleus” of the whole experience, with people playing “defense” around them and culture shifting all around and sometimes across them. This is not exclusive to “high culture”: Have you ever heard about “gatekeeping”? Yeah, same fenomenomenon (Shadwell, of course). Whenever something gets this “shape”, it becomes a “norm”, the “common” thing, the “rule” if you participate in that set of cultural practices.

As every cultural set of practices tends to generate its own “canon”, they also have a lot of practices surrounding it, which are ever changing, shifting, learning from new and old practices, and redefining what everything means in their common/shared space. For example: Neil Gaiman, my beloved, was part of the “comics” frontier when Sandman first appeared, but as he and Alan Moore (yeah, I know he did it first, but Gaiman is my study focus right now, so let me be) and other very talented and interesting people started creating fascinating stuff that hadn’t been done, and they found people who loved it, they not only redefined the world of comics, but became part of the new canon themselves. And then, Neil’s presence in the world of literature and fantasy became widespread and recognized and then revered… And then he is doing it again by adapting his own work to a streaming platform in a serialized way… I hope this explains why I’m growing an obsession with studying Neil Gaiman as an author who crosses through different media: a transmedial auteur, an anomaly in his own right. But that is not an essay for tumblr, but a thesis, one that I don’t know if I’d ever have the time or mental resources to write (being a runaway ex academic with ADHD who works on their own is hard, people). Besides, this was about aging and David Tennant, so let’s cut this tangent short and start talking about our Time Lord and Savior: David Tennant, the king of frontiers.

David Tennant as a Frontier Lord

David Tennant is another fascinating case in this sense, mostly because he is an actor who has been able to build a whole very impressive career through crossing symbolic frontiers. Through his massive filmography (161 roles just for screens, as registered in IMDb) and his stage career (I love this gifset for this exact reason), he has acted his way through almost everything, from classical Shakespeare to improvisational comedy, from procedural police drama to wacky fantasy sci-fi. This has a lot to do with his personality (he loves acting, he decided to pursue acting as a career thanks to his love for Doctor Who, but he is also smart and inquisitive) but, as it happens with a lot of “frontier figures”, it also has a lot to do with “unpredictable” circumstances: less of a strategy, more of an instinct.

David has talked many times about how his impostor syndrome made him feel, for the longest time, that he had to keep accepting roles, because you never know if there is going to be another one after. He is talented and open and curious (this is quite a good interview about his perspective), but this… anxiety? meant that he had also lower quandaries about saying “yes” to roles and projects that were “less consistent” with a typecast (which has been, for the longest time, one of the main strategies to build an acting career). Yeah, he has some defining characteristics that make a role “tennantish” (I’m not starting that tirade here, but yeah, you know that almost fixed set of quirks and bits), but he has also worked his way through many different genres, budgets, styles and complexities. And he has usually been as committed and as professional in a big budget-high stakes-great script sort of situation, as he has been in a highly chaotic-let’s see what sticks-small scale project.

That can be correlated by the way he talks about “acting advice”. “Be on time, learn your lines, treat everyone the same, never skip the lunch queue”… Acting is a job, and he treats it as such. Yeah, he looks for interesting projects anytime he can, but the “down to earth” attitude about it is, once again, not-usual, not-common: pure frontier. Then, when David talks about his own self (specially at a young age), he is pretty clear about his “outsider” or “uncool” status (this interview is fantastic), and how strangely disruptive it was to become not only recognizable, but cool and sexy and… everything else, thanks to Doctor Who. He went from living in the frontier to being put in the canon, but he is still, at heart, a person who is more comfortable not defining himself by that “expected” set of rules.

Him being a very private person, who insists on having a family life that seems, form this distance, stable, loving and absolutely un-showbiz just makes the deal (and the parasocial love and respect) easier to sustain; as does his openness to talk about social and political issues that interest him (passionately, again; against the norm for “well liked celebrity”, again). His colleagues also talk wonders about him, mostly because he is this sort of down-to-earth but also passionate about his craft and easy to work with. Again: not the “norm”, not the “rule” of being such a celebrity.

Many of his fans (should I say that I’m one? Or is it obvious at this point?) find this not only endearing, but comforting: he is a massive star, who has acted in a lot of terrific roles in huge productions… But he feels, at heart, as “one of us”. But he is, also, a well-respected thespian, a Shakespearian powerhouse, an international talent. He lives in a very authentic, but very unstereotipical frontier. And he seems happy about that and has made a career from it. Extensive kudos and all the parasocial love and the amateur-actress mad respect for that.

I should mention, just in passing, that a “natural” archetype for this characters that traverse frontiers… are tricksters. Think again about the “tennantish” characteristics. Here goes another essay I’m not writing right now.

Aging: The Next Frontier

This takes me to the original post that inspired the essay: living in a culture where the “norm” is “being young and famous is a desirable aspiration”, we have a fantastic actor, at peak of his craft, who is in the heart of middle age (past 50, nearing 55). Not only that, but he is an actor with whom at least a couple of generations have grown older: from the ones who feel him as “our contemporary” to the ones who grew up looking at him (like Ncuti Gatwa!).

David, being the frontier person he is, has been navigating this transition in a very “unconventional” way: he came back to the role that made him iconic (The Doctor, now with more trauma!), is starring in another fantasy series about middle-aged looking ethereal beings that at times is an adventure thriller, at times is a comedy of errors and at times is a romcom (having another beautiful trickster of a man as his co-star… There goes another tangent that is an essay); he is playing one of the quintessential Shakespeare roles for middle-aged men (Macbeth), and is, seemingly, having a lot of fun doing a lot of voice acting for animation roles (if you haven’t watched Duck Tales, you’re missing a whole lot of fun, really).

Traditionally, middle aged actors navigate that period of their career trying to reinforce their “still young, thus a celebrity” status (for example, doing a lot of action-packed movies and keep doing their own stunts while seducing women 20-30 years younger than them), or strengthening their “prestige thespian, so now a real culture person” position (fighting for more serious roles, going from comedy to drama, or working their way into The Classics©). Sometimes, they face the internalized societal expectation by also becoming a shipwreck in their personal life (yeah… the stereotype of “getting divorced, having an affair with someone half their age, getting another red convertible, getting in trouble…”) because we don’t have a good “map for aging responsibly” yet as a society. We have been so focused on youth, that we have forgotten how to age.

Again, switching to the personal experience. I was raised as a female-shaped person (yeah, being queer is fun), so part of the experience of growing (and then growing old) has been closely related with that concept from the female point of view. I decided, pretty early on (but not so much, probably 25 years ago), that I wasn’t going to conform to the norm… And that included aging naturally. When I found my first white hair, it was a shock (I was 21 or 22), but I had already seen my father fighting his own hair being white since forever. I decided it was a loss of time, money and effort… And the judgement from people in my generation and in the one that preceded me (my mother, my aunts) was stern and strict: “it will age you, and it will date us. You shouldn’t do that”. Men could do it, given the right age (being over 50) but women must not. Same with wrinkles and sagging and gaining weight and getting “pudgy”. But when men grew older, they needed to make a “show off” of their ability to seduce, to “still be a man”. Aging, then, was undesirable by any standard.

As me and my peers have grown older, and my hair has gotten increasingly silver, there have been women that come to me saying that “I look great” and “they wish they were as brave as me”. I would like to state in front of this jury of my peers (hi, tumblr!) that the only bravery it took was deciding, somewhere between my twenties and my thirties, that I wanted to be as myself as I possibly could, so no bravery at all, just the same lack of understanding of social rules that took me to become interested in… you guessed it, cultural semiotics. We’ve come full circle with this. Now, let’s finish talking about what it means for an aging fan to have an aging star to look up to, shall we?

David Tennant as a cultural Time Lord

I am pretty sure that he wouldn’t have chosen this role for himself (as he wouldn’t have chosen being a massive star just by playing his favorite character and being so talented and charming), but he is, as Loki would say, burdened by glorious purpose. Being “the actor of his generation”, and him crossing so many frontiers with such ease and grace, without even thinking about it too hard, just because he is a hard worker and likes to try new things and is just so good at what he does put him in the exact cultural crossroad for it.

He is not in a sudden need to “resignify himself” as anything: he has already shown his very flexible acting muscles through his very long career. He is not bounded to “keep his public image relevant”: he likes to have his personal life clearly separated from the spotlight, and being married to the brilliant and funny Georgia, who herself grew up with a famous father, so she is no stranger to staying sane and in control in the eye of media, and who manages their social media presence with a good mix of humor and well-set boundaries.

Therefore, he is in a moment where he can (and probably will) chose to do whatever he likes. And he has the public support to do so: he is prestigious and respected, but likes to make fun of himself and is not self-important; he has a lot of awards, but he is also a very likable person with whom most people in the industry enjoy working. And he is up to do a lot of things: heroes, villains, morally grey characters; romance, drama, thriller, fantasy, sci-fi, procedurals, historical fiction, classic plays, silly parts, voice acting… We are going to see him aging on screen and stage, with no playbook: the playbooks were written for people that certainly are not him. And I have some evidence to prove it.

He is starring in a groundbreaking series (yeah, Good Omens) where the protagonists are two middle-aged looking entities, full of queer relationships, written by another trickster. This series, in an on itself, is a showcase for characters that are rule breaking in many ways: in the narrative, by being hereditary enemies who are inevitably linked to one another by a loving bond that may or may not be romantic, but that has been in the making for 6,000 years; in representation, by having the protagonists being represented by a couple of middle aged actors who are “not serious” and “not action” coded, in a role where they are delivering romance, banter, intrigue, joy and a whole other range of emotions that are “not your stereotypical” middle-aged male-lead coded.

He also delivered the baton on a relay race with Doctor Who: he came back after almost 20 years, to bring back the generation who grew up watching him in the role, and deliver us into the arms of Ncuti Gatwa’s 15th Doctor, with the promise of taking a rest and working on getting better from all the trauma The Doctor has endured in 20 years Earth-time (which, as any Doctor Who fan knows, account for centuries of trauma in Doctor’s time). Not your usual Doctor Who Anniversary cameo, but one built to deliver some zeitgeisty emotional health promises that made the specials feel… healing. At least, for some of us.

Even when it wasn’t the hit series it deserved to be, his Phileas Fogg in “Around the World in 80 Days” is also a great delivery of an unconventional middle-aged protagonist, who goes from meek and scared and too worried about societal norms, to a lovely, tender, slightly awkward and daring person, with friends half his age who look at him but are also his peers (another kind of relationship that is not very frequent in media).

And, with all fearlessness, he has played a lively old duck in Duck Tales! Scrooge McDuck has never been a middle-aged character: he is, quite openly, an old gentleman. An adventurer, quirky, with a lot of spunk… but also quite clearly an elder to Huey, Dewey and Louie, and obviously older than Donald Duck (who is also not a young adult himself!). When you watch that series, and if you have the opportunity to catch any glimpse of him behind the scenes while recording the part, you can feel the joy he got from playing the part (and he has said time and again that he IS Scrooge McDuck, so it will become his “recurring bit” for the future).

Hopefully, David (and some other actors and actresses, for sure) will dare to build that new “aging publicly without making an arse of myself” playbook, and I (and I can imagine, many other fans in our middle age, but also fans that are right now leaving behind the “young adult” stage and becoming “adults” fair and square, and others who will arrive to this place at a future time in their lives, so I hope) will be there to bear witness, support, cheer… and learn from the model. Because that’s what fandom is about, but also because that’s how culture itself gets shaped and changes, continuously. And that is exciting and a little scary, and that’s why it is better if we do this together.

And I'd love to imagine diverse (in the full sense of the word) role models for this process and this playbook, too!!!

If you read all the way through this, I'm very grateful, take a cookie, have a gold star and suggest names for our aging interestingly role models on the "non-white-male" side of things!

Class dismissed!!

[moonpool-system]

In your most recent (to making this ask) reblog you mentioned being other kin and having facets that seemed to be kins at one point (or being both). How did you figure out they were facets vs kins? I'm still learning about my system, but have a few kins figured out but some kins I'm wondering if are facets/alters/etc and would love any advice I can get on knowing the difference.

Heya! I know this is pretty late but hope this advice still gets to ya!

On telling the difference between facets & kintypes!

[On telling the difference between facets & kintypes!]

We identify as both otherkin and a system, and while telling the difference between the two is much easier nowadays, it really wasn't when we first started out - we realized our median monoconscious host facets had been masking under 'kin shifts for years. Nowadays we have a sort of checklist we go through to tell if an identity is a kintype or an introject of some sort. Hopefully this can help people sort out the difference!

Note: these are all from the perspective of a single system! Others may have other experiences and are encouraged to add to this post.

Otherkin experiences

[Otherkin experiences]

- Being otherkin means having an innate "other" identity you identify as You. Many singular people feel like they have different aspects of themselves, and a kintype may feel like that, but it will still be intrinsically intwined with your core self. Your kintype identity cannot be "separated" from You.

- We find a good way to tell if a potential kintype is yours, is to refer to the 'type and their actions with I/me pronouns. For example, let's say someone's fictionkin as Character xyz. They likely would feel comfortable saying, "I am xyz. My friends are [xyz's friends] and I partook in [experiences xyz experienced]. I feel a certain way about those experiences because they affected me personally."

- Kin shifts, in the otherkin community, are periods of time where you experience the aspects of your otherkin identity more intensely for an amount of time. This is generally considered not a plural experience, since those in kin shifts might lean heavier into the aspects of themselves aligning with their kintype, they often will not contradict their non-shifted selves on things like identity, current dislikes, and moral opinions.

- Sometimes we feel more or less connected to certain kintypes than others, but not only is that likely because most of us are past life otherkin, but the dissonance doesn't get too extreme unless we're in a different facet or another member all together.

Polyconscious median experiences

- Being co-conscious with another system member can feel like "you" at first, but there're some distinct differences. When you're experiencing an emotion or memory related to a possible kintype or other member, consider how it may feel for these emotions to be coming from a third person perspective within your own body. Ask yourself these questions: Does it feel like these emotions/memories are coming from my perspective? Does this directly contradict how I'm feeling right now? Do I feel a disconnect from this feeling/memory/identity, as if I'm feeling someone else next to me experience it rather than feeling as if it's me? (Remember, for many people with system members connected to their kintypes, it can be both)

- Do your emotions and experiences related to your "kintype" feel controlled by you, or do they feel like they have a whim of their own, changing on a course only connected to yours? Does your "kintype" feel like they have their own free will? If unsure, try reaching out to and talking with that identity with your mental voice, and see if you get an emotional or mental-verbal response!

- Your kintype will feel like an inseparable aspect of you, while another member may feel more like an "outside force" despite being internal. Do you feel like you "tune out" of the world while your identity takes the wheel of doing things and expressing using the conscious awareness/body? Many systems can misinterpret switches as kin shifts due to not knowing that not all systems black out when not in front.

- When you're unsure if you're just in a shift or if someone's around with you, try calling out to and talking to them with your mental voice. You might have to do it a few times! You may feel a stirring of emotion separate from yours or even get a response in internal voice as well. Kintypes generally don't act on their own or respond to you.

Monoconscious median experiences

- Switching between monoconscious facetw can feel a lot like kin shifts. Compare how you feel in a "shift" to how you felt before. Do you feel drastically different? Do you feel like using a different name, or that you have a different gender or pronouns? Are your opinions & tastes different from before? How differently do you act outwardly? Kin shifts generally just make you feel more intensely in the headspace of your kintype- it won't change anything drastic or contradictory like that.

- Compare your self before the "shift" to now. Does your identity, opinions, gender, tastes, etc feel unpleasant or wrong to apply to you? Does it bring discomfort or dysphoria? That's probably separation you're feeling. While in median systems, members may have similar aspects, there're usually contrasting elements as well. (this median part goes doubly for polycon members as well)

- A way to conceptualize monoconscious medianhood is feeling as if "you" are shifting and changing into something new, rather than being there along with somebody else tied to you. Your point of perspective may not shift when you switch front, but your identity does.

Important points of crossover!!

[Important points of crossover!!]

- You may feel like more than one of these concepts apply for a singular source/'type, and that's okay! Kintypes can form as headmates and still be your kintype as well - it takes a little to get used to, but that's just how it is sometimes. Having two people that both ID as the same source is typically called doubles, just the same as the fictionkin community

- Other members of the system can have their *own* kintypes, which can get a little complicated, but it'll get easier to sort out as you practice and increase communication.

Hope this helps out some!! Sorry it took a bit

[sonic-hot-takes]

New Sonic media needs to introduce more heroic male characters to the lineup.

Normally I like my takes quick and spicy and let people come to their own conclusions with them, but out of all my thoughts on the series that I’ve shared with fellow Sonic fans, this one tends to get the most ire. Bellow the cut are my more in depth thoughts on the matter.

I may be forgetting someone but I’m pretty sure the last character the series introduced that was simultaneously a guy, a hero, and had any sort of staying power was Silver all the way back in TWO THOUSAND SIX. This applies to ALL Sonic media/canon, by the way (be it the games, comics, spin offs like Boom, etc.)

The closest character I could think of that fills this criteria is Razor from the post-reboot Archie comics—he did appear in both the main comic and Sonic Universe, and was the only new character to get his own SCO backstory—but for obvious reasons he’s not showing up again any time soon. I don’t count Chip or Yacker since they’re pretty blatantly meant to be one off characters that fill a specific niche for that game’s plot. Also let’s be real they’re both mid as hell

Compare this to the girls: Sticks, Tangle, Whisper, Sage (who is framed as more of an antihero in Frontiers than a villain), Trip, this new girl from Dream Team…

People scream sexist at me whenever I bring this up, which is ironic because I am a Girl™ myself. My favorite Sonic character, Blaze, is a Girl™. Sticks is one of my favorite additions to the series in a long time, and she’s a Girl™. I’m not against Girl™ in Sonic.

BUT it does make me raise a brow looking at the track record of new characters that have been introduced to the series, specifically when it comes to gender and morality alignment. This is a lot more prevalent in the IDW comics than in the games, but it’s present in both.

Since Colors (which signaled a shift in direction in the series), the new antagonists we’ve gotten in the games are: Orbot and Cubot, the mostly male Deadly Six, the Hardboiled Heavies (if you wanna count them), Infinite, and Sage (kind of). In the IDW comics, we’ve gotten Rough and Tumble, Dr. Starline, Mimic, Clutch, Kit, and Surge.

In the same time period, the new leading/supporting protagonists we’ve gotten in the games are Yacker, the Forces OC, Sage (kind of), Trip, and Ariem (the new girl from Dream Team). You can also squeeze Sticks in here since she’s the only Boom character to get any extra relevance or spotlight on her outside of that spin off. In the IDW comics, we’ve gotten Tangle, Whisper, Jewel, Belle, and Lanolin.

Sure, there’s a little overlap here and there. But you should notice a pattern.

Do not interpret this as me saying that Sonic Team or the writers at IDW have some kind of anti-men agenda going on. That’s not what I’m suggesting. BUT I am getting tired of every new hero being a girl and just about every new villain being a boy. Can’t we switch it up a little?

Even the most prominent female antagonists in the series have some kind of sympathetic edge to them. Surge was brainwashed and experimented on by Starline. Sage’s character arc is supposed to be the focal point of Frontiers, and she only does evil things under Eggman’s command. Trip isn’t even evil in the first place, she just ends up working with Eggman and Fang for…reasons, and ultimately turns against them and becomes a playable hero. They’re not framed the same way that most, if not all of the male villains are. Not even Merlina is fully immune of this.

Outside of the sexist allegations, I usually get one of two responses whenever I bring this up:

A lot of Sonic fans are girls, so the series should introduce more female characters in order to appeal to their female fans.

The series already has a lot of male characters, so they need to balance out the cast with more girls.

Both of these points have their merits and flaws. I think that both of them are/were true up to a certain point, but nowadays they don’t hold up as well after we HAVE gotten tons of new female characters. When Sticks and Tangle were first shown off, I was ecstatic! Sticks being a fourth wall breaking conspiracy theorist is both tons of fun and a character archetype that the series hadn’t explored until then, and Tangle has one of my favorite designs of any Sonic character. But at some point, I started to notice the trend of every new hero being a girl and every new villain being a boy, and it really started to bother me. For IDW Sonic it was around the time Belle and Clutch were introduced (with Lanolin ultimately being the straw that broke the camel’s back—she insists upon herself), and for the games it was after seeing Ariem in Dream Team (I probably would’ve been more annoyed by the Fang/Trip dichotomy if I wasn’t absolutely joyous that the Nack Is Baaaaack). The whole “we need to introduce more girls to the series” angle doesn’t hold up as well when the series seems reluctant to commit to a straight up evil girl. Sonic desperately needs to flesh out his rouges gallery in the games, so why not add an absolutely psycho female antagonist?

Also this is a more personal note but I hate hate HATE it when people allege that girls can’t relate to male characters, so franchises need to introduce the Girl™ character so the Girls™ can relate to her. Can girls not relate to boys? Can boys not relate to girls? Once again, not against female characters in general, but that particular mindset has and will always bother me.

Who knows, maybe Ariem will end up being the main villain of Dream Team. It’d be cool, but I don’t see Sonic Team taking that route, especially not on an Apple Arcade exclusive. I don’t expect any big twists in that game.

Those are my two cents. I just think it’d be cool if we got a new boy as well as all the new girls we’ve been getting.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/728749660104278016/a-lot-of-people-nowadays-are-all-fanon-is-boring?source=share

I feel like a lot of this is in response to some particular fandoms that seem to have forgotten what is canon characterization, like where people seem to be engaging more with fanon than with the original work. And while that's totally fine, especially since sometimes the choices made by the original canon are, you know, bad, I feel like it's a thing that people should at least be aware that that is what they're doing. For instance, it's one thing if you decide that this heinous thing a character did in one particular episode was bad writing and inconsistent with their previous characterization so you're going to ignore that when you write them; I've felt that way about many individual episodes in my shows. It's another if I get the sense you don't seem to realize that episode exists. Some of it's about how much of the canon you're ignoring: e.g. ignoring the BTVS episode where Spike rapes Buffy because you don't actually think it made sense to have Spike do that, fine, whatever, that's a thing fandom can legitimately argue about and has for over 20 years and it's fine to take a particular position on that in a fic, but acting like Spike would never hurt anybody when he's a vampire we've seen repeatedly kill people on-screen is lol. Like there's a certain point after which you're going so "off-canon" that you may as well just write original characters.

And yeah, as this one says, sometimes it's because the popular fanon is something you DON'T LIKE and you'd prefer to have some variety in the fandom.

--

[hopefulvittori]

Kindled emotions

Pinocchio (Lies of P) x OC/Reader

Angst/Fluff

So this is my very first fanfiction... To be honest, I was kinda afraid to post it at first, but every starts are always the hardest. Sorry about my english in advance, I'm not a native speaker. I only created this blog as a placeholder because AO3 has a pretty long inv queue nowadays. As soon as I have an account, I'll post my upcoming fics here and there. :)

As his journey goes on, the puppet of Geppetto starts to experience fear and doubts about his circumstances. Luckily, a certain helpful falcon helps to take that despair away.

──────────

Pain wasn't foreign for the puppet of Geppetto. At least not anymore. He noticed a few changes ever since he started his journey. It hurt him when the frenzied puppets hit him with a candle holder or a shovel. Or when the monster-turned infectees latched themselves onto him. 

Yet, this kind of pain was different. It came from his chest area. It was suffocating. 

Ever since he dealt with the Black Rabbit Brotherhood and saw that painting, he's been thinking a lot. Every time he was close to shutting down, the woman in blue always stayed time's hand from claiming him. And despite his struggles, he always saw his father - his creator - watching that portrait with melancholic fondness. Oh, how he wished that his only family would've looked at him with similar tenderness...

He started to feel fear. Fear from the uncertainties of his time-manipulating circumstances. What if the next of his perilous endeavours will be the last? What would his father think of him then? Will he be sad? Disappointed, maybe both? Questions, yet no answers.

"Are you okay, pal? You've been spacing out a lot lately." Gemini asked him with a worried tone. His green light flickered in the dark streets of Rose Isabelle.

It was all true. He has been extra cautious when it comes to his stalking. Krat was certainly a dangerous place to live by, especially with these frenzying puppets and monsters around. Despite that, although slightly, his non-legion hand was shaking. He couldn't feel the sword in his hand the way he held it before. His cerulean gaze was glued to the ground. 

He felt cold...

"H-hey! Watch where you're going or else we'll be--!" Even though the puppet guide in the lamp tried to warn him, the encounter was inevitable. A large number of frenzied puppets fell from a storeyed house. Screaming like wild animals, they were lunging themselves towards the puppet of Geppetto. He reacted as quickly as he could and turned his back on his desired destination. Although he avoided getting clobbered by the puppets, he couldn't stop one of them latching itself onto his leg. Trashing against his captor, the boy managed to get himself free and cut it down with a single powerful strike. Then he ran away with the feeling of hopelessness and confusion.

He didn't even notice that lack of the lantern's green glimmer. The hostile puppet managed to grab Gemini and drop it to the ground. It couldn't see where the puppet boy ran off to nor warn its partner in crime as the impact managed to turn it off.

───── ⋆ ─────

The Falcon felt quite tired after spending the night on the streets of Krat, getting rid of the maddened puppets. With each strike, her indigo dress was painted with oil. She felt the taste of iron in her mouth. It sickened her. 

Separating her lance into two blades, she finished her work on the last two or three automatons. Electric sparks lightened the darkness as her enemies lifelessly fell into the cold stones. She sighed in relief while sheathed her swords. She saw no other puppets on the streets. None, except one. The Falcon noticed a familiar lanter lying on the ground. Its side was kinda battered.

"Cricky? What happened?" She asked as she picked up the lantern. No response. The lack of his peculiar green light worried her. Then she suddenly remembered how its owner turned it on and off. She looked for a button on its side. With a "click" and its signature green spark, the lantern turned on. 

"T-t-tori?" Though her distorted voice surprised the stalker, she was more annoyed about calling her that silly nickname.

"What happened to you?" She asked. 

"I-i don't know. There were... so many puppets and... and..." He said with fearful hesitation.

The Falcon looked around, searching for the signs of Gemini's owner. Did the puppets get him? He was pretty much inseparable from his lantern. Something bad must've happened.

"Where is Speckles?" She asked slowly. 

"I'm... n-not sure. One of the puppets grabbed me a-and... and..." Even though it felt kinda impossible, Gemini sounded like it was in despair. Its entire purpose was to guide its owner. Without him, no wonder it sounded so lost.

The Falcon grabbed the lantern and strapped it on her belt. Her hand rested on its form as some comfort of sorts. She didn't say anything but started her search for the puppet of Geppetto. She knew his nature. He was pretty much an Ergo-harvesting automaton. She always felt the sweet scent of life on him. It was both of her blessing and curse to being attuned to those souls, feeling their desires as her own. She followed that odor of the puppet's Ergo. She always found his scent quite nostalgic. Like settling around a fireplace after getting away from the cold rain or snow. It was warm. 

She stalked around Rose Isabelle streets for almost an hour. Luckily, she felt it. The scent of Ergo got a lot stronger inside of an abandoned storeyed house. She was careful though. Her steps were light as a feather when she started searching through the home. There she heard it: a quiet but hasty heaving. It came from a bedroom. The Falcon doubled her steps, carefully opening the door. Then she slightly gasped at the sight that awaited her. 

The puppet of Geppetto sat before a bed. His frozen expression was lightened in the fireplace's gentle gleam. It was subtle, but his eyes were staring forward in shock. Lips parted and gasped for air. 

It seemed that he was searching for some sort of solace. To remind himself of the comfort of his home. Yet despite his endeavors, he clearly failed to calm his nerves. 

"Speckles? What are you doing here?" The Falcon asked gently. She hoped for a response, yet the boy couldn't even look at her. The woman got closer and crouched before him. Even like that, the puppet failed to notice her presence.

Judging by his body language, he had a panic attack. The stalker didn't know that this was even possible. He was a puppet after all. Yet even though she had questions, she needed to wait for answers. 

"P?" The woman tried to call out for the boy once again. Only this time, her hand found its way to the puppet's human one. To the Falcon's surprise, it felt wet. His hand was drenched in sweat. She placed her other hand on his freckled cheek, forcing him to look at her. Despite tilting his head towards the woman, his eyes were unfocusing. 

"It's alright, P. It will pass." She said gently, stroking his cheek. "I'll stay with you until this is over."

Then she felt it. His human hand gently squeezed hers. He showed her appreciation in a way he could in this situation. She warmly smiled and sat beside him. She petted his fluffy chestnut brown hair while holding his hand.

"Try to control your breathing. It will help you calm down." She continued on as she showed it to him. "Take a big breath... keep it in for a bit... then breathe out."

She kept doing it until the puppet of Geppetto tried to do something similar. Even though he couldn't look at her, he tried to do his best to calm his breathing. His shoulders rose and fell in a more rhythmic manner.

"That's it, P. You're getting better at this. You're going to be alright." The Falcon said in an encouraging way.

His chest heaved less and his eyes became more focused. He needed a few minutes before he could finally look at her. He tilted his head a bit slightly to the right, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. 

The Falcon smiled at him, unstrapping Gemini from her belt in the meanwhile. The boy was surprised to see his puppet guide in the hands of the stalker woman. 

"Some puppet must've snatched it. I found it after you hid here." She explained quietly, handing over the small puppet to its owner. The boy gave her a small smile as his appreciation. 

"What happened?" As she asked, his simper disappeared. He tried to avoid her stare, but the Falcon searched his gaze curiously. 

"I..." His lips were parting slowly, but no more words came out. She knew now: these feelings were beyond his comprehension. He wasn't ready yet.

The Falcon shifted and sat before the puppet boy. She grabbed his automaton arm and gently squeezed both of his hands.  

"I see now. You can't tell me, can you?" She asked quietly. 

The boy nodded curtly. 

"...Because it's something you can't exactly explain." She continued. 

He blinked a bit before nodding again. The woman averted her gaze and looked at the fireplace. 

"The flames partake in such warmth. To wash away the pain."

The puppet raised an eyebrow curiously. 

"Oh, just a phrase someone I knew used a lot..." She said with a tint of melancholy. The Falcon shook her head. "Anyway... if you have any doubts, you don't need to be afraid. I know how these new feelings and doubts can burden one's heart. But..." She gave him an encouraging look. "When you're ready to tell me about them... you know where you can find me. You can always partake in this warmth." 

This woman - this girl - intrigued him to no end. Sometimes she was witty, yet showed kindness to others. Even strangers. She was willing to sit with him, helping to understand these new emotions without asking anything in return. His doubts were washed away in those sea of flames she spoke of. As he held onto her hands, clutching them like small, fragile things, he felt... safe. Like a warm blanket, this new feeling covered his entire being.

He felt warmth...

Without hesitation, he leant towards the Falcon and gently pressed his forehead to hers. Her breath hitched as her entire body froze. His human hand shifted to stroke her long ashen brown hair. His eyes were closed as he tried to express the gratitude he had felt. Then a small smile appeared on his lips as he felt her being relaxed in his grasp. Her hand found its way to his arm as a way of support. This situation was also new to the stalker. Her kindness was appreciated. Her words didn't fall on deaf ears.

It wasn't in vain.

Realizing this, she gave out a sigh of bliss. The Falcon felt a bit light-headed from the content she had felt... or maybe from the tiredness. Her head slowly slipped from the boy's forehead onto his left shoulder. He gave her a mild puzzled look as his arms encircled around her form. Each time she sighed, her shoulders were rising. The puppet of Geppetto could've sworn he heard her snoring. He felt his gears moving a bit faster as he looked at her peaceful form. The Falcon completely tired herself out, yet she found the strength to help him. He carefully scooped her up and laid her down onto the bed. He watched her serene face as a content smile appeared on her lips.

"Geez, she is completely tired herself out. Just to look out for you." It was a genuine surprise how long Gemini has been quiet. Its voice was kinda raspy from the damage it sustained, but it survived worse situations than this. The boy was fully convinced that it was fine when the puppet guide suggested to draw a mustache and a monocle on her face. With a deadpan face, he reached for his lantern.

"Imagine her reaction, that would be price... Wait wait! I was kidd--" With a loud "click", Gemini was turned off. The puppet of Geppetto quietly sighed as he sat down next to Falcon's resting form.

Morning wasn't coming any time soon. He could wait until down to make sure she gets some rest. As he watched her defenseless form, his hand reached for hers. He gave her a last squeeze before standing up and reaching for the door.

"Sweet dreams."

──────────

In the original storybook, the Falcon was a minor character. It was the Blue Fairy's helper who rescued Pinocchio from hanging. I thought it would be a neat idea to put P in a similar but symbolic situation. He was literally suffocating from his fears and doubts until the Falcon tried to make those feelings go away. :) Btw my OC just loves giving nicknames yet she hates being called Tori (her real name is Vittori, her nickname means "bird" in japanese).

Once again, sorry for any grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed this story filled with angst and fluff!

[ironstrange1991]

Strange Love (Part 5)

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: When planning a new mission, Y/n ends up getting into a confrontation with one of the Avengers. Meanwhile, Stephen tries to convince her that she needs to learn more about her powers before using them in battle.

Word Count: 6,9k

Warnings: Y/n hates a certain Avenger and has a rather peculiar view of things. This can be uncomfortable for some people who don't agree with her point of view. Other than that, we have sexual content, basically oral sex and penetration with no protection.

A/N: I'm going to endorse all of Y/n's words on the matter at hand because (obviously) that's also my point of view on the matter.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Chapter 5: Stand My Ground

Back in your apartment, you concentrated very hard not to think about Loki, but deep down you were feeling bad even though you knew you hadn't done anything wrong. You weren't cheating on Loki, you had been pretty honest about your feelings. You didn't feel the same way about him, something had changed and even if you hadn't said it word by word, he knew that Stephen Strange was responsible for this change. He just didn't know that the Stephen Strange of your universe was involved. You were happy. After so much suffering, you were feeling happy and you couldn't let guilt spoil that.

Tony and Pepper returned to the tower three days later on a busy Thursday. Natasha and Clint were there too, plus Banner and Rogers and Rhodes of course. You liked the feeling of having the Tower crowded with people you liked and cared about. Of course, if you could exclude Rogers from the equation you'd be happier, but that wasn't an option.

However, with Tony's return, you became aware of murmurs and conversations and soon you realized that something was going on, something they needed to sort out and that Tony wasn't telling you. You had no idea what it was and was too distracted to catch anything.

Your mind was lost on Stephen, always on him all day. It was your first thought when you woke up and the last when you went to sleep. You couldn’t deny you were in love with him. Those were definitely symptoms of passion.

Or love. Stephen’s voice sounded in your head and you were shocked.

I'm not the one doing this, sweetheart, you're actually distracting me from what I'm doing.

You smiled to yourself in total surprise.  “Sorry, I don't know how I'm doing this.”

“What are you doing?”  Tony asked coming in and approaching with both hands in his pocket.

Oops, dad caught us. Stephen’s voice teased you.

You concentrated on trying to end that mental link with him and were surprised when you could physically feel it slipping away. As if an uncomfortable pressure on the side of your head disappeared.

“You said you didn't know how you were doing it.”

You decided to stay close to the truth.

“This thing in my head, it's getting out of hand.”

He looked at you worriedly.

“Is everything okay, Tony?”

He smiled trying to hide his concern. “Well, I'm glad you mentioned that thing on your head... I need your help.”

You nodded. “Of course, whatever you need.”

He sat in the sofa next to you. There's a guy, we suspect he has weapons made with technology from Strucker's lab.

“What kind of weapons?” You asked already feeling anxious.

"The dangerous kind. Strucker was working with Loki's scepter.”

“The mind stone.”

Tony agreed.

“Does this guy have a name?”

Tony ran a hand over his face. “I don't know, Rogers knows him. I think he's called Crossbones." He shrugged “You know, nowadays any idiot gives himself a cool name...”

“What…?”

Tony looked at you surprised “Do you know him?”

You nodded. “Worked for Hydra. I know him, but Rogers knows him a lot better.”

Tony shooked his head. “Yeah, It looks like Rogers thought he was dead, but that's not what happened. He came to me asking for help to put an end to the guy.”

Your blood boiled in your veins and you got up. Why did everything that went wrong always have to be related to Steve Rogers?

“Lagos.”

“What’s that?” Tony seemed confused by your sudden irritation.

“Rogers lost him in Lagos. That's when it all happened. The Civil War.”

Tony didn't seem to keep up. “What civil war?”

You sighed in a rare moment of impatience with Tony. “People name big things that happens with the Avengers, Tony. I thought you knew that.” You sighed trying to stay calm. “That's not the point. The Civil War was when the Sokovia accords came out. The fight at Leipzig Airport, all that, that's what they call it.”

Tony nodded getting slightly more serious. Memories of the event flooded back to his mind, apparently.

“Rogers... everything that happened was his fault. What came later with the accords was a consequence of his actions and everything he did…”

Tony ran a hand over his face and seeing him shaken like that just by the memory of that event infuriated you even more, bringing out a protective instinct towards him that you didn't even know existed. Usually you were his protégé, but sometimes Tony needed someone to care for him. Though he liked the name, he was far from being iron made.

“What they did to you, the way they acted... and now he says he didn't solve the case?”

“Listen...” He ran his hand over his face. “I'm not going to defend the guy, he screwed up, but we need to solve this.”

“How can you take this so calmly? Tony, I cried all night when I saw what he did to you.”

Tony took your hand in his. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It's not about him, it's about the people who might get hurt if this lunatic decides to use these weapons. He asked me for help, I'll take over the case, but I need your help.”

He grabbed your shoulder. “Will you help me?”

You sighed. “Of course. I'll do anything for you, Tony.”

He smiled “And I for you.”

You tried to put your thoughts in order. “I'll try to locate him. Is that what you need?”

“Yes. Thank you, darling.”

…

It wasn't long before you managed to see Crossbones. The use of your mental abilities was starting to freak you out. You had no doubt that you had exceptional powers and abilities, but you had no control over them and wondered how far you could go without the help of someone who could teach you how to deal with them.

Crossbones had a secret laboratory in a disused power plant in Ukraine. When you told him what you discovered, Tony called a meeting to decide all the details of the plan for the attack and asked you to pass the information to the other Avengers.

“The plant has been deactivated for more than 40 years.” Natasha informed after researching the name and location that you gave her.

You nodded. “Only Strucker's men roam the place” You explained. “Anyone who stands in our way is an enemy.”

“They don't even imagine we're going, so it will be easier than we thought.” Rhodes stated. “I still think we should put the army in front of this.”

“If we use the army the government will know about the mission and it's not what we want”  Rogers said with his calm voice that always got to irritate you.

“We have the element of surprise, but it won't be easy” Tony explained. “Y/n took a look at the weapons they created.”

“The weapons are dangerous” You  said. “They have weapons with firepower equivalent to half the bomb used on Hiroshima. The others are even more disturbing.”

“What kind of weapons are we talking about?” Rogers asked.

“The dangerous kind” You replied dryly without looking at him. “They are weapons with cognitive-psychic powers.”

Natasha seemed scared and you knew the mind control thing was something that could mess with her because of her forced process to become a Black Widow.

“If they use it, they can turn us against each other” Banner said, understanding.

"It wouldn't be the first time something involving Crossbones has put one Avenger against another," You replied.

“So, what's the plan?” Nat asked.

“I came up...” Rogers started, but you stared at him and he stopped.

“I believe that the weapons reach the mind through a peculiar sound it makes, something imperceptible to our ears, but which has a cognitive behavioral effect.”

“In other words” Tony said smiling at you like a proud father. “Ear plugs developed with nanotechnology.”

Tony showed the devices you created together.

“What if it doesn't work?” Rogers asked. “Or if something goes wrong? We need a plan in case this goes wrong.”

“Like it happened in Lagos?” You asked and he didn't answer. Everyone was silent. “Explain to me, Captain, this is your mess, isn't it? Or does no one else remember what happened in Lagos?” You asked the others sitting now in dead silence. “All those people died because of you. “

“I made a mistake” He said staring his own hands.

“You made many mistakes and I'm sorry if I can't do like everyone else and pretend that nothing happened. Pretending that you and Wanda Maximoff weren't responsible for hundreds of deaths in Nigeria and swallowing your arrogant face wanting to give orders and make plans.”

Everyone was stunned, but you couldn't stop talking, the words just kept coming out of your mouth.

“The great Captain America. The first Avenger.” You looked at him spitting the words like they were poison in your mouth. “You're not living in a bubble anymore, Captain. The world just got bigger. There are bigger fishes now and if we take away the serum and your arrogance, what's left?”

Tony glanced at you understanding exactly where you got those words from.

Rogers remained silent. Fists clenched.

“I'll say... mistakes. It's what's left. Many mistakes. You can play nice all you want, but when things got really tough you weren't there to help. And I'm not talking about guns dealers.”

“Y/n…” Tony’s voice was shaky. “Let it go.”

But you just couldn't let go. Not when you'd seen in Tony's eyes how much it still hurt.

“The missile in NY? Tony. Sokovia in the air? Thor and Tony.”

You took a step towards him. “A spaceship has invaded Manhattan. Where were you?”

He looked at you, clearly shaken by your words.

“You were never there. You're good at making promises, but not very good at keeping them, are you? Unless of course we're talking about your dear friend Bucky. For him all promises are kept. All the... secrets.”

Tony ran a hand over his face.

“So when I say we have a plan, you accept the plan because this is your fault and we are cleaning up the shit you did. Don't question it because you have no right to question. You shouldn't even be here, but I'm not the one who decides, am I? I'm just suggesting that next time, unless you got your hand in that gauntlet and destroyed Thanos and his entire army with a snap of your fingers... shut the fuck up.”

Tony looked at you, clearly upset about the situation, but something in his eyes showed he was glad those words were spoken.

You sighed. “But I'm going to leave now, and you can put together a plan in case I'm wrong and the Captain is right. After all, he likes to be right, even when he rarely is.”

Rogers stared at you mutely as you left the room leaving them in complete silence.

…

You  went up to your apartment and made yourself some tea to try to calm your nerves. You knew perfectly well that you shouldn't have lost control, but you had it all stuck in your throat for years.

You drank tea slowly and distracted yourself finishing some French exercises that were already late and then your phone rang, it was Stephen.

“What you were doing unintentionally” He said. “I think I know a way to help you learn to control.”

 “ How?” You asked confused.

“Well... it involves other issues that I would like to talk about. Can we have dinner tonight?”

You thought for a second. “Of course. Yes, please, I would love to get away from this environment today.”

“What happened?” He asked confused.

“It’s nothing. Well, I'll tell you at dinner.”

“I'll pick you up at 8 pm. What do you think?”

“Great. Will you drive us there or just open a portal?” You asked teasing him.

“Unfortunately I don't think opening a portal it’s a very discreet way to enter a restaurant” He said laughing that deep and dazzling laugh. “At 8pm, then.”

“Can’t wait.”

You hung up the phone and Natasha was behind you.

“I'm sorry, the door was open.”

“No, it wasn’t.” You replied dryly already a bit defensive.

She nodded. “It wasn’t locked.”

“If you came here to scold me, it's a waste of time. Nobody in the world is going to convince me that Steve Rogers didn't deserve to hear that.”

Natasha nodded. “I didn't come to scold you. Rogers can be...difficult to deal with. You don't like him. You don’t need to.”

“Good, I'm relieved to know.”

“Actually I came to ask how you are” She said sitting in the armchair next to you. “After everything that happened... I didn't have the opportunity to say how sorry I am.”

You took a deep breath “Thank you, Nat. I'm fine, I'm feeling better.”

She nodded and then looked at the cell phone in your hand. “And does this improvement have anything to do with this date you are going to?”

You didn't answer right away which she took as a yes.

“Tony said you broke up with Loki”

“I  wasn't talking to Loki.”

She glanced at you with those watchful eyes and then she smiled. “I knew you guys had a thing.”

“We don’t.”

“Yes, you have.” Natasha smiled, seeing you fall into her usual trick. She seemed happy for some reason. “He's a nice guy.  Doctor, sorcerer...”

“Master of the mystic arts” You corrected her and she smiled, seeing you unintentionally confirm it.

“A little bit old and very old-fashioned with that goatee, but if that's what you're into...”

“Are you talking about me?” Tony asked and then apologized. “The door was open.”

“It wasn’t” You and Nat answered in unison.

Tony looked at you with his hands in his pockets. “Rogers left. I think you hurt him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I came here to thank you. Really. But I don't think it's worth, Y/n... I've already tortured myself too much for everything that happened, I don't want you to suffer for me.”

You shook your head. “I'm sorry, Tony, I just... lost my temper.”

He agreed “That happens. He needed to hear... like twelve percent of everything you said.”

"The rest was a bit mean" Natasha said.

You smiled mischievously and he sat down next to you.

“We’ll keep the plan, then?” You asked.

Natasha nodded. “Apparently yes. It’s a good plan.”

“So, what were you talking about?” Tony asked and you gave Nat a serious look, pleading with your eyes for her not to say anything. She gave you a mischievous smile, but remained silent.

“Remember what I said about doing things I can't control?” You asked once again sticking to the truth.

He nodded.

“Stephen promised to help me. He said there might be a way to control it.

“That's great” He said seeming a bit confused “I didn't know you were talking after... everything that happened.”

You smiled “Stephen is a nice guy.”

“And he is a wizard” Natasha completed.

“Sorcerer” Tony corrected her.

“Is there a difference?”

“I think he prefers the term master of the mystic arts, but sorcerer works too.” You said.

Natasha stared at you with a smile “His goatee is old-fashioned”

“Come on, we're facial hair bros” Tony said indignantly.

“I think this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard” Natasha said getting up. “Anyway, say hi for me when you see him” She said winking and leaving.

Tony looked at you noticing you were staring at him. “What is it?”

You smiled. “I love you” You said hugging him tight. “You are the most important person for me in this world.”

He wrapped you in his arms a bit surprised with the declaration of love. “Then promise me you will never leave.”

You sighed heavily “I promise.”

You laid there cuddled with him and for a second Stephen crossed your mind and you wondered if your relationship with him, not that it was exactly a relationship, perhaps not yet, but your clearly wanted it to be. Anyway, you wondered if Tony would approve. His approval was very important to you because, as you said to him, he was the only one that mattered to you.

…

You were distracted with your chores when the doorbell rang. You answered and Pepper stood at the doorway smiling shyly.

“Hey, are you busy? I can come back later.”

“No. Come in.” You said. She looked apprehensive. “Is everything okay, Pepper?”

She smiled looking around your apartment. “Ah it's so beautiful here now that you put all your stuff. I helped Tony decorate.”

You closed the door “A feminine touch is always nice”

“Yeah, I contained a bit of Tony's extravagances too.”

You gestured towards the sofa. “Thank you for that. Well, sit, please.”

She sat down shyly and you waited for her to say why she was there.

She sighed “Thank you for saying those things earlier today.”

You were surprised.

“I wish I had the courage to say it myself many times, but I'm relieved someone did.” She looked away. “I sleep with Tony every night and I saw what that whole situation did to him. What fighting Thanos, using that gauntlet did to him.”

You nodded “Someone needed to put Rogers in his place.”

She agreed. “Tony suffered a lot from everything that happened, it was very difficult.”

“I know, I... I saw everything Pepper, I suffered from afar for everything that happened and I really wanted to be on his side, I really wanted to be able to say that he was right.”

Your eyes filled with tears that you wiped away.

“You said the other day that coming here was a mistake, but I don't agree. You were the best thing that ever happened to Tony. He needed a friend. He has Rhodes, but it’s not the same.”

You smirked. “Second best thing that happened to him, then. You are everything to him Pepper. You, Rhodes and Happy were the ones who kept him in line, you're the people who never turned their backs on him.”

She nodded. “He loves you very much” She said also getting emotional. “He cares about you, I care about you. You are very important to us. You are part of our family now.”

You shook your head “I know.”

“Tony doesn't think he needs it, but he needs us to take care of him. We are all he has and he is all we have”

…

It was 8 pm and you were ready to leave but you stopped thinking about what you would say to Tony. When he was home, he knew about everything, Friday kept him informed of who was coming and going and that made you rethink the idea of ​​going out by conventional means, but it was too late and you could see Stephen's car parked in front of the tower.

You took a deep breath and went down hoping not to bump at anyone on the way, but as you approached the exit, you saw Tony parking and getting out of the car with Pepper at his side. You watched as Stephen got out of the car and greeted him. 

“I'm sorry to inform you, but I’m not working today. Schedule an appointment with Ms. Potts.” Tony said and then looked at Stephen from head to toe. “It's even weirder to see you dressed like a normal guy, I thought you only wore your monk clothes” Tony said and as you approached  he noted you.

You were wearing a reasonably simple black dress, totally normal, but you still feared what he might think.

“I invited Y/n to dinner. I hope you don't mind” Stephen said ignoring Tony's provocations completely. “Hi, Pepper.”

"Hi Stephen" She replied, smiling.

Tony greeted you with a kiss on your cheek and then turned to look at Stephen. “I'm glad you mentioned it, because I...”

“He doesn't mind at all.” Pepper said answering for him. “Have a great dinner.”

Tony gave up on his argument and the two left, entering the Tower.

Stephen and You looked at each other laughing softly. “Are you sure this is the guy you love?”  He asked teasing you while opening the car door.

"Yes, I do" You said, smiling as you walked in. He turned around, started the engine and drove fast through town.

You had dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant. Stephen looked even more handsome than the last time you saw him. You loved seeing him in a suit.

"Tony will ask questions" You said, sighing.

“Like everything else, Stark seems to think that you are also his property” Stephen replied looking at the drinks catalogue. You thought you felt a bit of jealousy in his voice, but you also could have imagined it.

“He feels responsible for me and I like having him around taking care of me. I've never had anyone to do that.”

He nodded with a smirk then called the waiter and ordered a shot of whiskey.

“What are you going to tell him if he asks about us.”

You thought for a moment. “I don't know what to say, but it won't take Tony long to figure it out by himself.”

He smirked. “The truth is always a good idea.”

The waiter brought his drink and a bottle of water for you. “Are you ready to order, sir.”

“No, not at the moment.” Stephan replied and the waiter nodded leaving you alone.

“Would it be so absurd to tell the truth?”  He asked and only then you realized how much he wanted that. He wanted Tony to know about it.

“No”

He smiled. “Tell him what you think is best, he will believe anything you say.”

You nodded and he took a sip of his drink and stared at you with those blue eyes seeming to pondering his next words. “Potts seems to handle the situation so naturally.”

“What situation?”

“That romance between you and Tony.”

You smiled. “She came to my apartment today to thank me for defending Tony. She said he needs people to take care of him. I think that proves that she's really okay with our relationship.”

Stephen seemed incredulous “And what did you have to defend him from?”

You sighed. “Not what. Whom. Steve Rogers.”

“Oh, are they fighting again?”

You shrugged. “There is a mission to solve. A madman with psychosomatic weapons made from the Mind Stone. It turns out that this guy is only alive because Rogers faltered and everything that came after, the Sokovia accords, was a consequence of that mistake.”

Stephen shook his head. “I remember all the news at the time, I was still working at the hospital in Manhattan.”

“Please don't tell me you sided with Rogers.”

He denied it. “Both sides seemed wrong at the time.”

You strongly disagreed, but didn't say so.

“Tony asked me to help him find these guy. I found them in Ukraine. We will attack the location and take the weapons. Tony and I put together the plan with the information I got, but Rogers didn't seem to trust my abilities and I ended up losing my temper and saying some things he needed to hear for many years.”

Stephen frowned. “You said we”

“What? Did you hear what I said?”

He nodded “You put Rogers in his place” He said impatiently. “Is it serious that Stark is going to put you in the field on a mission with psychosomatic weapons?”

You blinked surprised with his annoyance. And the way he put it made you falter. “I... haven't asked him yet, but…”

He sighed in relief. “I'll speak to him personally so he won't let you go.”

“Stephen!”

“Listen, I know you feel you can do this and that's what you want, but it's too dangerous and you need training. We barely know how to deal with these skills, imagine in a battle!”

Part of you was ecstatic that he had referred to the situation using "we", indicating that he felt responsible for you, but you strongly disagreed. “I need to help Tony”

“If you want to help him the best way to do it is in the safety of the Tower and not in the field where he will be worried about you and may make mistakes for not being focused on the mission.”

When he put it like that it seemed too obvious. You went silent.

He extended his hand across the table and you took it. “At some point you will become an important part of the Avengers. Your skills can be of extreme help to them, but right now you need to focus on learning to control them.”

I nodded “You're right, I'm being naive.”

He denied “No, you are thinking of defending him as you did when he argued with Rogers, but Stark knows how to take care of himself, I saw him fighting, he is very good.”

You nodded and then he smiled trying to change the subject.

“What happened earlier today, you were having difficulty concentrating, left your mind open and vulnerable for a long time.”

You blushed –“I'm sorry, I don't know how I did that.”

He smiles “You don't have to apologize. I'm glad it happened to me.”

You smiled at him a little sheepishly.

“But it could be very dangerous if in my place it was someone who wanted to harm you, so I suggest we work on that.”

“I don't know how to control it. I didn't do these things before.”

He looked interested “Tell me how this all started.” You thought for a moment trying to remember “They were thoughts. I dreamed sometimes, I could hear things that happened, but they were just suggestions, but it was enough for me to know it was real because I could feel it.” You shook your head “I don’t know how to explain”

"Is that how you made the decision to come here to find Stark?"

You nodded.

“And when did it start to change? To evolve.”

“When I got to NY, I...”

He waited watching you with those suggestive eyes.

“I didn't get the reception I thought I would. Everyone was worried when I arrived, some of them wanted me to come home. Only Tony, Pepper and Natasha stayed by my side, but I still felt like a fish out of water. I felt alone and Thor was all over the place with all that agonizing sadness.” You sighed.

"Keep going" he said.

“His sadness implied an absence...”

Stephen seemed uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

“I started thinking too much about Loki. If all this was real, these people, I wanted him to be there, for him to be real for me. But he was dead. Killed by Thanos or so we thought.”

Stephen understood “It was your first mind connection. With Loki.”

“I didn't realize what I was doing. It wasn’t intentional.”

Stephen's discomfort implied a jealousy that was strange and new to you. He barely mentioned Loki's name  “And so he answered. How?”

“ You felt your face blush “He came to me first in my dreams and one night he was in my room. It was the first time I saw him.”

Stephen sighed looking around, called the waiter and turned back to you. “Ready to order?”

You agreed and you ordered your food. You weren't really hungry.

“It's possible that your abilities were suppressed by the environment you lived in. Your parents house was hostile, I imagine, once you decided to leave it all behind and just ran away.”

You nodded, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation but knowing that at some point it would have to come out.

Stephen soon realized that you didn't want to talk about it and moved on “But once you moved away from the environment that oppressed you your abilities began to expand immeasurably because there was no longer a barrier blocking it’s development, on the contrary, you said that Thor it made you think of Loki, so he was a trigger.”

“But then it kept increasing” You said still confused and trying to understand everything he was explaining to you. “With Loki's presence the visions began and now this...”

Stephen sighed. “Well, the stimulation with Loki around have also increased” He said against his will “The presence of Loki, your sudden relationship with him... I believe that what we are seeing is only a fraction of your capabilities and that they will increase a lot more.”

“My sudden relationship with Loki.” You repeated slight offended.

He grimaced. "It wasn’t exactly a healthy thing."

“Why not?” You asked still not understanding.

“Oh sorry, I thought it was implied in my face of disgust the whole time…”

“It's as natural as any other relationship...”

“With Loki? The god of mischief? Literally  the father of lies…”

You could barely answer and he realized he had overreacted so he just stopped talking.

“It wasn't sudden. I've always been drawn to Loki.”

He agreed sighing “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken like that.”

You agreed and went back to the subject that really mattered. “I'm afraid of these skills, Stephen.”

“You need to learn to have control over them” He said understanding that you were upset “With the right direction there is nothing to fear.”

“Will you teach me?”

He smiled proudly. The idea seemed to amuse him, but he denied it. “Wong would be a better teacher, he has experience and discipline.”

You hesitated a bit “I don't know if it's a good idea, Wong is... too serious.”

Stephen let out a small laugh. “Maybe this is what you need. You need to take this issue more seriously.”

You nodded “I don't understand why I have this... thing. No one in my family does these things. They are normal people. Boring people.”

“Magic, contrary to all the bullshit we see in pop culture, is not hereditary, it is an individual condition that develops in evolved minds.”

“I don't do magic, Stephen.”

“You’re sure?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh sure, I'll become the next Sorcerer Supreme.”

He smiled  “The Ancient One would have liked you. And she would be the best mentor you could ever dream of having. She taught me everything I know.”

You sighed knowing that it hurt him to think about his mentor. “I'm sorry you lost her. I’m sorry it was too soon.”

He nodded “She told me that she saw all the possibilities of my future. I wonder if she foresaw the things I did and everything that happened after.”

You held his hand “You and Tony saved the world. You are a hero, Doctor Strange.”

He smiled but seemed to disagree “Many people fought that day to save the world.”

“But it was you and Tony who made everything work.”

He agreed in disagree apparently.

You had dinner and got back in the car, Stephen pulled you in for a kiss before starting the engine and driving back to the Tower.

He stopped in front of the entrance and you stared at him confused.

“Won't you come in?”

He denied “I'd rather not risk bumping on Stark again.”

You pulled him to your lips, thrusting your tongue into his mouth in an extremely sexual kiss that demonstrated how much you wanted him.

He smiled cocky. “Wait for me upstairs.”

You smiled in agreement. You went up in the elevator, went straight to your apartment and found Tony waiting for you on the sofa.

He smiled. “I was worried, I needed to see you before bed.”

You closed the door and went to him sitting next to him “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I just... with everything that happened I think I am traumatized. Knowing you're not in the tower made me anxious, that's all.”

“I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me all the time, Tony. I don’t want to be a burden.”

He scowled "You only have me to worry about you, I need to make this right. And don’t ever say that again. You are not a burden"

You smiled reassuringly. “Pepper was here this afternoon. She came to thank me for what I said to Rogers.”

He looked surprised. “Really?”

“She cares about you, I care about you and you care about me. I guess that means it's normal to worry about the people we love. We are family, Tony.”

He agreed. “Yeah, you’re right, but let's face it you scared me a few times, like the last few weeks.

You nodded “ I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. Let’s try to put a stone on it.”

You smiled and he hesitated looking curious “But then... going out to dinner with Doctor Strange... I have to admit that it surprised me.”

You smiled trying to sound as casual as possible “He wanted to talk about my skills. He wants Wong to help me to learn more about them. That’s all.”

Tony agreed “That's good. It’s a really good idea.  Will you?”

“I need too.” You agreed trying not to show how nervous you were. There would be no way to explain if Stephen opened a portal and entered there and considering that the Sanctum was not that far away and Stephen drove very fast, this could happen at any moment.

Tony sighed “I like to see you living in this apartment, doing your thing, having friends. I want you to feel well here, it's your home.”

“I know. I will never be able to thank you enough for everything you did for me.”

He got up. “ Just promise me you’ll stay around. You won’t leave. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled “I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

He smiled then got up “I'll let you rest, now. Goodnight, darling.”

You hugged him tight, stronger than the casual moment asked and he noticed and squeezed you in his arms too. “I Love you, Tony. Good night.”

You  stood there as he left and closed the door. You loved him so much that your chest hurt, You had never loved anyone the way you loved Tony.

You turned Your attention back to the moment and went to your room. You went to the closet and took off your clothes, leaving only your lingerie and you smiled when you heard the soft squeak of the portal opening in the bedroom. You went to him and leaned against the wall, he came to you, both hands on your face and he kissed you deeply and you hold him by the nape of his neck and he pulled you to his lap, your legs wrapped around his hips and he put you on your sideboard leaning against the wall

"I thought you weren't coming" You said into his lips.

He kissed you smiling on your lips “How could I not to come after that kiss?”

You tugged on his suit to get rid of it and he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. You caressed his bare chest, your lips moved down to his neck and shoulder and you bit down gently there.

He unfastened your bra and took it off and cupped your breast in his hand squeezing gently as his lips trailed down your neck.

"Tony was here a minute before you arrived." Your legs tightened around him, yearning for his touch.

He gently lowered your panties.

“I don't want to talk about Tony Stark right now” He said taking your panties off and then he kissed you again tasting your lips slowly.

“Do you think he would mind if he knew about us?” You asked on his lips.

He brought his hand to the middle of your legs and stroked there gently and then he thrust a finger inside you slowly moving it back and forth.

“ Right now, I really don't care” He said lowly forcing his finger and then put another one penetrating slowly.

You moaned squirming in his hand as he watched you melt away in pleasure. He smiled and kissed you and then picked you up and put you on the bed and spread your legs further with his hands. His lips trailed down your stomach to the inside of your thigh and dipped between your legs where he licked and sucked masterfully, his beard brushing your skin there and the feeling was so good,  you could barely contain yourself.

You moaned loudly holding his hair and he continued and your legs shook with the uncontrollable pleasure he gave you. You pulled Stephen back to your lips and he kissed you smiling while turning his fingers inside you to touch exactly the perfect spot he knew your loved.

“Stephen...”

He penetrated two fingers while stroking your clit with circular gestures of his thumb and you squirmed in his hand and he smiled smugly, completed satisfied of seeing you melting beneath him.

He got up taking off his pants and underwear and came back between your legs making way with his waist. His cock already totally hard, he caressed it for a second and your eyes didn't leave him. He put his fingers on you again feeling all your wetness and then put only the tip on your entrance, hesitating, analyzing, provocating you.

“Stephen…”

He forced himself to enter you with a single thrust and you moaned loudly squirming under him feeling all his huge cock inside you. He leaned back on the mattress and fucked you hard and fast understanding that was the way you liked it.

...

You woke up in the middle of the night and Stephen was sleeping beside you on your bed. You stood there watching him sleep. There was no reason to deny it, You were completely in love with him. He was perfect in everything. The man was a god of sex. He had made your cum three time only in that night.

You got up and dressed your hobby and left the room. You were heading towards the kitchen when you noticed something in the living room and screamed scared.

“It's okay, it's me.” He said leaving the meditation position in which he was. Floating.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked staring at his scary astral form. He looked like a ghost.

“Meditating... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You're sleeping... how do you do that?”

He smiled. “My body needs to sleep, my mind on the other hand needs to stay active, I like to enjoy the night.”

"That's weird" You said.

“I shouldn't do that here, you're right…”

“It's okay” You smiled looking at him.

“Give me a second, I'll be right back” He said disappearing and you went to the kitchen to drink water. You heard the door opening and he appeared with a sleepy face smiling “That's better.”

He walked over and kissed you softly on the lips.

As you had completely lost sleep you decided to put the kettle on to boil and make some tea.

"Your mind also needs to rest" You said, scolding him.

He agreed “I don't do this every night, well most nights.”

You sighed understanding that there was no point in arguing “You almost scared me to death.”

He sighed leaning in the counter and then changed the subject “You asked me before if Tony would mind if he knew we were together…” He sat on the counter watching you prepare the tea. “Would you like him to know?”

“I'm tired of secrets, Stephen” You said “I’m tired of doing things in secret thinking about what they would say if they knew, but as much as I don't want to care about what everyone has to say...

“You care for what Tony has to say.”

You nodded “He's not just anyone.”

Stephen thanked you when you handed him the cup of tea.

“I don't know what we're doing Stephen, I don't know where you want to go with this, but... you know I'm in love with you and I don't want to have to keep hiding.”

“There is no need to hide it” He looked at you seriously “When you left the Sanctum that day, Wong asked me if I was sure about what I was doing … about you”

“And what did you say”

He cupped your face and pulled you closer to him “That I'm in love with you, that all the things that happened brought us together and that I feel like you're the only person who understands what I'm going through since...”

“I know.”

He smiled “I understand that you have doubts about us, but I don't. Let them know.”

You smiled sipping your tea.

“Do you think Stark would mind?” He seemed concerned about your answer. He was beginning to understand that Tony had a huge influence on you.

“I think Tony wants to see me happy. He's already worried about me too much.

Stephen nodded and then chuckled “Romanoff hinted a while back that we'd have something, Stark wasn't too happy about the idea.”

“When did she say that?”

“When we were trying to rescue you from him.”

You nodded “It's impossible to fool Natasha, she realizes things even before we do. She knows I was going to have dinner with you yesterday.”

He agreed.

You put your empty cup in the counter “I need you to tell me what to do, I... I don't know how to handle any of this alone.”

He hugged you resting his head on your chest and you stroked his hair. You  held his head and kissed him sweetly on the lips. He smiled at you “You'll be fine and you don't have to do anything alone, never again.”

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[tanadrin]

i think the other thing that chaps my ass so much about the american conservative legal movement--as opposed to other flavors of conservatism in politics--is that it seems uniquely pro-business in a way which is totally unprincipled. fedsoc types will twist themselves into knots to help large businesses avoid penalties and lawsuits even when there’s basically no case to be made, on legal or public policy grounds, conservative or progressive--i think the exxon valdez oil spill and the final legal outcome there is a good example. heck, tort reform generally--like you could make a conservative argument that a regulatory state is expensive, we don’t want to pay for it, we think people suing businesses only when actual harm occurs is better for society. i think that’s wrong, incidentally; i think it means that only people with money have access to the law, and it means that companies that sell dangerous products or break the law are much less likely to suffer consequences. but that’s definitely a consistent way you can argue society should be arranged, and is frequently the option u.s. lawmakers have gone with.

but the conservative legal response to this has been, “hmm, this looks too much like businesses actually having to follow the law,” and then to push for tort reform to drastically limit punitive damages, so that even when firms do sell dangerous products or otherwise break the law, they don’t suffer significant consequences, because damages are capped at an absurdly low level. this gets cast as fat-cat plaintiffs somehow unjustly enriching themselves, even though the whole point of punitive damages is, well, punitive, to disincentivize certain behavior! and this money only goes to defendants because in a civil suit there’s no one else for it to go to--we explicitly opted for this regulatory model when we decided we weren’t going to have the government step in and fine these companies directly!

(the response to this, by the way, was mandatory arbitration clauses; but nowadays firms have decided that even arbitration favors plaintiffs too much, which is a self-evidently absurd thing to say, since companies largely get to pick and choose the terms of arbitration. so conservative legal movement types are hard at work trying to come up with ways to further favor companies in arbitration, because the alternative--allow companies to actually be incentivized to break the law less--is too absurd to contemplate)

by and large, i do not think many americans who are conservative are pro-business, except in the weak sense that they are broadly authoritarian and business is historically one of many local forms of baronial authority in society. but for modern, large firms, both the distribution of power and the ways which you might want to rein it in to prevent or mitigate negative externalities (like environmental disasters or risks to consumer health) are not naturally aligned with any ideology except what might loosely be termed a “pro-business” ideology. it’s not even a classical liberal/libertarian ideology, though, because it’s not an ideology which promotes competition of free markets--conditions under which competition and free markets flourish are very different from conditions under which sprawling, highly-integrated firms flourish!

it’s a bad and incoherent set of policies unless you are ideologically in favor of rent extraction and government corruption--so it masquerades as conservatism, but could probably just as easily cast itself as progressive if that particular political coalition broke down.