#best junkie you adore

[thebloodbringscolorandfluoresce]

Everything I love is slowly skipping around the corner...

But I'm in the well wishing hard; best junkie you adore so...

Best Junkie You Adore - Jazmin Bean

(gifs & image: Puppy Pound MV on YouTube)

[sleepbeneaththeflowers]

Nothing makes me want to rail lines like a dingy pink bathroom in a bar somewhere...

Still I am sober

[heavensanswer]

i hate what i am

i hate what ive done

i hate that im scared

i hate that its not fun ,

not fun anymore

but cant find the brakes.

[fuckyeahjazminbean]

"Best Junkie You Adore" (Strawberry House Sessions

[someone-will-remember-us]

There is no collective noun for rapists but spend a week at the Pelicot trial and you wonder why. As the early morning queue of women who’ve come to support Gisèle Pelicot passes through security at the Palais de Justice, Avignon, you spy men with downturned faces scurrying across the lobby past the press. In court they sit on the left, clustered around a glass box containing more men, those in custody for the gravest crimes. Since there are 50 in total, the alleged rapists have been tried in batches and I’m just here for the final seven: Boris, Philippe, Nicolas, Nizair, Joseph, Christian, Charly.

Plus Dominique Pelicot himself, who invited them all into his marital bedroom, where he had his wife waiting, drugged and naked, and who joined in and filmed it all. Pelicot, 71, crumpled and fat now, but with a residual bulky power, sits sullenly alone with his guard in a separate glass box, protected from the other men who blame and detest him. Often after lunch he appears to doze off.

Such nondescript men. Grizzled, middle-aged (the mean is 47 years old), smart-casual in windcheaters or leather jackets and their best trainers, like minicab drivers waiting for fares. Ordinary men in many respects, not vagrants, junkies or career criminals. This week’s seven includes a fireman, an electrician and a journalist; several are fathers, two were keen weightlifters, one bred dogs. French trials helpfully begin with a personality profile formed from interviews with the men, their friends and colleagues. Poverty, domestic violence and mental breakdowns feature, but also that a man is “kind” or “gentle”, had a lovely childhood, adored his grandparents or is devoted to his mum.

Yet each one had sex with an unconscious woman, that is beyond doubt, thanks to Pelicot’s camera mounted on a tripod beside the bed, and by his own admission. “I am a rapist,” he has declared, “like the others in this room.”

From the Pelicot affair have come demands for reform to French rape law, for sexual violence to be treated more seriously, for an investigation into “chemical submission” — the coercive use of sedatives. But one question overshadows all others. How many men would have done the same? If Pelicot could recruit at least 70 willing participants (a number could not be identified) within a 25-mile radius of Mazan, the Provençal town where the couple retired, how many in the whole of France? As I walk through Avignon with Juliette Campion of radio station France Info, who bears the strain of reporting this case since September, she gestures to a bureau de tabac: “You think, ‘Would a guy in there have raped Gisèle? Or men in the boulangerie or those on the street?’ Women are looking at men differently: they’re asking, ‘Could you or you or you?’ ”

On the right of the court, behind her counsel of three serious, dark-haired young men, is Gisèle Pelicot with her female companion from victim support, leaning on the wall, as far from the men as the room allows, but facing her ex-husband. Her composure is remarkable. Although clearly tired and strained, she retains a quiet vivacity reflected in her clothes. Instead of shrinking away in black, she dresses each day as if meeting friends for drinks on a sunny terrace. A chic scarf, a faux fur bag, patent leather boots. Clothes that say, “I still have a life.” Every evening, when women line up to clap her out of court, she speaks to them warmly, neither reticent nor relishing the attention. Every day she walks through the cobbled streets past graffiti saying, “Gisèle, les femmes te remercient” (Gisèle, women thank you) to lunch at the same excellent brasserie, and people turn to gaze at her in awe.

The extraordinary woman who refused to be silenced

The humiliations of Gisèle Pelicot have a mythic quality. This is a woman who discovered the man she married aged 20, with whom she had three children and seven grandchildren, waited until she was deeply asleep before removing her pyjamas, dressing her in “sexy” underwear or writing on her buttocks, “I am a good submissive bitch,” then he let a stranger penetrate her inert body, filmed it, washed her intimately and replaced her pyjamas. This is a woman who thought she was going insane, had Alzheimer’s or a brain tumour, whose children thought she was dying, who stopped driving and going out alone, who slept all day and once woke puzzled why her hair was shorter. “But madame,” said her hairdresser, “you came in yesterday.” This is a woman who had mysterious gynaecological problems, including a swollen cervix (and still lives with four STDs), who thought her husband wonderful for accompanying her to medical tests, including an MRI.

This is a woman who, when her husband was arrested for “upskirting” in a Leclerc supermarket and police found the contents of his phone, discovered her whole 50-year marriage was a travesty, that he’d raped her in a service station car park, on Valentine’s Day and on her 66th birthday, and may have raped their daughter too. This is a woman who has listened to legal arguments about whether a man put his tongue inside or merely kissed her vagina, who heard another man say he’d only returned to rape her a second time because he couldn’t find anyone better, who sits in a courtroom while three giant TV screens show clips of her body being coldly humped by yet another “ordinary” guy.

Yet this is a woman who gathered up every scrap of her humiliation and with it constructed a mirror that she holds up defiantly to the court and to French society itself. “Shame must change sides,” she said, and in insisting the entire trial be conducted openly, that the worst men can do to women is witnessed by the whole world, she has done exactly that.

I ask many women I meet in Avignon how men in their lives regard the accused. They say they call them losers and freaks, that these are men on the margins, with no relation to themselves. But, along with the testimony I hear, the people I talk to believe this case raises many questions about French sexual mores. Whatever the decision later this month by five judges — there is no jury — Gisèle Pelicot will never be forgotten.

The court turns to Christian L, a fireman with a straggly castaway beard, who speaks from the glass box because after he was arrested, police found 4,000 child sex abuse and zoophilic images on his hard drive. We hear from his girlfriend, Sylvie, a small blonde in a grey hoodie, who says he’s a wonderful man, and is suspected of destroying evidence. Christian L recalls the victims he watched die in fires, the coffins of 11 colleagues he carried, the mental breakdowns that ensued. He was married but after his two daughters were born says he went off sex with his wife and turned to libertinisme. Strange, I think, that the French have coined this noble, philosophical concept, with its whiff of the barricades, to describe what we call swinging or dogging.

Like all the men, Christian met Pelicot through coco.fr — the murky, unmoderated site since closed down and now the focus of many major police investigations — on a forum called À son insu (without her knowledge). Christian L had already enjoyed “Sleeping Beauty” encounters with ten other couples. He spells out the rules: that you only dealt with the husband, sending him photos for approval, and during the sexual encounter he ran the show. Sometimes the wife woke up, other times not. How did he know, asked Gisèle’s lawyer, Stéphane Babonneau, that she consented?

“In a libertine encounter,” Christian L explained, “it is the husband’s responsibility to ensure consent.”

But how could you be sure?

“Are we expected to sign a contract?” Christian L spluttered.

“You could ask the woman,” Babonneau suggested.

How the case could change French law

Given the overwhelming video evidence, the defendants can only claim Pelicot deceived or drugged them, or they believed Gisèle was collaborating in a game. If this case were before a British court, rape would be decided by two tests: whether Gisèle had “capacity to consent” (tough to argue given Pelicot admits to drugging her) and whether the men had “reasonable belief” in her consent. Unlike most European countries, French rape law has no concept of consent. Rather, it is defined as penetration “by violence, constraint, threat or surprise”. (The prosecution case rests on a convoluted definition of surprise.)

But rather than demand consent be added to the law, French feminists are divided. Some agree with President Macron, who supports change; many others argue that consent would put the onus on the victim to prove her conduct was not an invitation. This seems an odd objection, especially as the whole purpose of the video evidence is to show no one could believe Gisèle capable of consent, given she was so lifeless one man asked Pelicot, “Is your wife dead?”

Alice Géraud is the author of Sambre, an investigation into how, due to the indifference and cruelty of police, a caretaker called Dino Scala in northern France managed to rape 54 women over a period of 30 years. “The Pelicot case with 50 defendants and one victim feels a strange inverse of Sambre.”

Géraud believes the Pelicot affair could provide the same impetus for change as a famous 1974 case of two Belgian tourists, Anne-Marie Tonglet and Aracelli Castellano, who, camping near Marseilles, were brutally raped by three local men. As was normal practice, the crime was downgraded from felony to misdemeanour on the basis the victims eventually stopped resisting. But the women, a lesbian couple, persisted and thanks to their feminist lawyer, Gisèle Halimi, it became the first rape case to be heard in the higher assizes court. Like Gisèle Pelicot, the women waived their anonymity. “We believe that it’s one thing for a man to rape,” said Halimi, “and another to know it’ll get around his village, his work, the papers.” Shame changed sides: the men were jailed and the French criminal code was rewritten defining rape as a serious offence.

For Géraud, the greatest current injustice is that whether a man has raped one women or 50, the maximum sentence is 20 years (here a serial rapist can be jailed for life). “This is law made by men,” she says, “with a grave lack of knowledge of rape culture.” She is scornful too about libertinisme as a universal excuse for male sexual exploitation. “Libertinisme was why Coco existed for so long,” she says. “It is the justification for prostitution, for the porn industry.”

Charly A is the youngest of all the defendants, just 22 when he first entered the Pelicot house. Small, bearded, now 30, we learn his childhood was chaotic, his father an alcoholic, his mother had many sexual partners; there are hints of abuse. “This is a family of secrets,” concludes the personality profiler. A psychiatrist adds he is immature, struggles to sustain relationships and instead consumes porn, “especially the Milf [Mother I’d like to f***] category with mature women”. In 2016, he made contact with Pelicot via Coco: “He said his wife would be lying there pretending to be asleep, he doesn’t tell me more.”

Over time Pelicot asks Charly if he knows anyone they could drug for sex and he proffers the only woman in his life — his own mother. Pelicot gives him pills (which Charly claims to have thrown away), shows him how to crush them, keeps pressing him to use them. “When can I come and we f*** your mother?” he asks in one video, but Charly keeps stalling, saying his brother is at home. Yet he returns to violate Gisèle, always with Pelicot, once with another man, a total of six times. “Did you feel like you were in a porn film?” asks Babonneau. Charly shakes his head.

Until this point, very late in the trial, the influence of internet pornography has barely been explored. The court only notes paedophiliac images, not “normal” usage. Yet Mathieu Lacambre, a psychiatrist who evaluates Charly A, remarks how porn sites not only push users to more extreme content but to enact porn fantasies in real life. “Until now Charly A was behind the screens,” he says. “Now [in Gisèle] he has an object served up on a platter a few miles from home. The sleeping princess Milf, voilà.”

A rented home in a quiet cul-de-sac

I drive out to Mazan, a lovely honey-stoned French village set in the vineyards below Mont Ventoux, where the Pelicots retired from Villiers-sur-Marne, a Paris commuter town where he was electrician and she was a manager at EDF. I imagine Gisèle browsing the little boutique, dropping into the beauty salon, sipping an aperitif outside the bistro. The home they rented for ten years is five minutes away in a quiet cul-de-sac of four houses behind tall cypress trees. It is lemon yellow with blue shutters, a pool, a very prominent alarm system, and new tenants. Given how many men knew her address, Gisèle fled four years ago for her own safety, with just a suitcase and her dog.

Today an immense cloud of migrating starlings swoops over the house like pixels in a photograph. This was where their grandchildren loved to visit in the summer, but also the centre of Dominique Pelicot’s porn operation. For what else was this grotesque man but a pornographic auteur?

We leave our car, just as Pelicot instructed the men, in the sports ground car park, by the bottle bank. I think of them texting their arrival, then creeping down the lane. (One man made his girlfriend wait in the car.) Pelicot would meet them at the door by the light of his phone, tell them to undress in the dark living room and warm their hands on a radiator. (They’d been instructed to be clean, not smell of cigarettes or wear cologne.) Then they were led into a bedroom with a TV, a chest of drawers, a bed with a naked Gisèle motionless on white sheets, and a mounted camera.

Whatever followed next was carefully orchestrated by Pelicot, a director urging on actors in stage whispers, since the objective was to do what they desired without waking Gisèle. Pelicot would tell them how and when to penetrate her, or hold his wife’s gaping mouth to facilitate oral sex. Given four Temesta (lorazepam), a powerful anti-anxiety drug he’d crushed into her wine or ice cream, his wife was like a patient on an operating table. Even so, if her arm gave an involuntary spasm,the men would scuttle from the room. A friend who has sat through many court videos says it was Pelicot ordering the humping men to go doucement — softly — that upset her, since she knew this was not out of tenderness for Gisèle.

All the while the camera rolled. Why did these men agree to have their crimes recorded? They say it was part of the deal, that Pelicot told them Gisèle was shy and liked to watch the sex later. But perhaps also because, in taking part, these men were promoted from porn consumers to creators. Filming was central to their fantasy. When Christian L finally climaxes he turns to give the camera a cheery thumbs-up.

For Pelicot, each film added to his oeuvre. Police discovered a carefully curated archive of 20,000 images and videos on hard drives and memory sticks showing 200 rapes. He gave each film a title like “Squirt on the ass”, “Cock in mouth” or “Jacques fingering”. This man, once caught by his daughter-in-law masturbating at his computer, was now a porn impresario.

The question at the centre of the case

Why did Pelicot do all this to a wife he professed to love, whom he called “a saint”? Was it to punish Gisèle for an affair early in their marriage (although he was serially unfaithful himself)? Or because when he’d asked her to join him in the libertinisme scene she’d refused — so he devised a way to make her. But Gisèle was not his first victim: Pelicot has admitted to the rape of an estate agent, using ether to drug her, in 1999, and will be tried for the rape/murder of another young estate agent, Sophie Narme, in 1991. The French police cold case bureau is investigating his possible links to many other unsolved crimes.

But as the “Without her knowledge” forum suggests, his was not a unique fantasy. The Pelicot case has illuminated the issue of “chemical submission”, not only drinks being spiked by strangers in bars, but drugs used to control partners within relationships. The French health service is noted for being blasé about prescribing heavy-duty medications, which is how Pelicot stockpiled his vast stash of Temesta.

Documentary-maker Linda Bendali has made a film for French TV about chemical submission, featuring seven cases, including a 13-year-old girl drugged by her father with medicine supposedly for her allergies, put in lingerie and raped over two years, and a 60-year-old woman drugged then raped at home by a man she was mentoring at work. “I’ve looked back at 30 years of press reports of rape,” says Bendali, “which includes dozens of women saying they woke up — mainly with men they know— unable to remember what happened.”

The Sleeping Beauty scenario, she says, is not merely a means for a man to get easy sexual access, but a way to enjoy absolute domination. “You are not even giving her the chance to consent,” says Bendali. “You can do anything you want to a drugged woman, for as long as you want. You can dress her how you want. These men want total power.” Pelicot is typical in filming his crimes: “Pictures are trophies. He was driven by a mix of desires for blackmail and voyeurism.”

Gisèle’s daughter, Caroline Darian, who was also drugged and photographed naked by her father, is heading a campaign on chemical submission, demanding police take samples of hair from rape victims, the only way sedation can be proved.

In court, I hear another psychiatrist tasked with assessing whether each of the final seven defendants has the profile of a sexual abuser. One by one, he exonerates the men, saying they are not dangerous or likely to reoffend, to the growing exasperation of Gisèle’s team. Then he reaches Charly A. “He doesn’t search [for victims] systematically,” says the psychiatrist. “He’s not a predator.” Finally, Babonneau explodes: “Six times with a sleeping woman and he’s not a sexual abuser?” The men do not identify as rapists because, like this psychiatrist, they define rape as frenzied sexual violence, not an opportunistic act performed to whispers in a private home. As one defendant put it, “It’s her husband, his house, his room, his bed, his wife.”

Women unite in the town of Mazan

Both in religious and political terms, Mazan is a conservative town: for 500 years it was part of a papal enclave and in the recent French election voted heavily for Marine Le Pen. Villagers regarded the Pelicot case with horror and sympathy which turned quickly to resentment when press named it l’affaire Mazan. Amid longstanding families who’ve known each other for generations, the Pelicots were outsiders who’d brought disgrace into a rural community. Tired of inquiries, the mayor, Louis Bonnet, 74, told the BBC, “It could have been far more serious. There were no kids involved. No women were killed.”

At the Lucky Horse Ranch outside Mazan, women victims of sexual violence receive equine therapy. I’m sceptical at first about how grooming and riding horses could help rape victims, but somehow these large, placid animals are calming and restorative. Here I meet Latika, 33, who at first was too timid to touch a Shetland pony, but now sits high on a saddle for our photograph.

Latika was separating from her husband, the father of her two children, but still sharing a house. He was violent, hitting her daughters, putting her in hospital with cuts and a broken rib. Two years after they’d last had sex, she woke to find him inside her. She believes the sweet tea he often gave her was laced with sedatives, but that night she hadn’t drunk it all. She realised he’d been drugging her for years — her mother recalls finding her deeply unconscious early in her relationship — and, worse, she was pregnant with a third child. She told the police, who addressed the domestic violence but ignored the rape. Her husband fled to Guadeloupe and she was left traumatised, fearful of leaving the house.

“I didn’t feel people really believed what had happened to me until Gisèle Pelicot spoke out,” says Latika, who has since made the police reopen her case. In October, as women across France holding white flowers protested in support of Gisèle, Latika headed the local march into Mazan and the next day Gisèle herself visited the ranch. “She said it is almost unbearable to return to this place where terrible things happened,” says Latika, “but she wanted to thank us. She told me, ‘I didn’t know the meaning of my life before this happened — but I do now.’ ”

Watching Gisèle take such sustenance from her supporters, you wonder how she will cope when the trial finally ends. She is writing a book and could, if she chose, become a global campaigner. “There is something particularly powerful,” says Linda Bendali, “about her being an older woman — she represents all our mothers. All generations identify with her.” But those close to Gisèle say that, at 72, she may just return to a quiet life of friends, grandchildren and her garden, in the secret location where she now lives.

But she is already an icon of courage for the women who come from across France and beyond just to watch the trial on a screen in an overspill room. Some want to witness history, a few enjoy the sensational evidence like tricoteuses at the guillotine, but many have risen at 5am, taking a day off work, to support a woman they deeply admire. Marion Spiteri and Amélie Planche, both 24 and law graduates, feel the case opened their eyes. “How can it be,” Spiteri says, “that so many men did this without her consent?” “It is terrifying,” Planche adds, “that a woman cannot even trust her own husband.” They tell me, astonishingly, that neither they nor their friends ever go to the toilet in a bar or club alone.

But then the nation of libertinisme lags behind in its attitude to violence against women. Until 2021, France did not even have an age of consent, effectively decriminalising even incestuous relations between children and adults, allowing several high-profile child abusers, including firemen who groomed a 13-year-old girl, to evade rape charges. Each time a prominent Frenchman is accused of rape — whether politician Dominique Strauss-Kahn or, currently, actor Gerard Dépardieu — famous French actresses leap to defend him. This is the nation that convicted child rapist Roman Polanski fled to from America, and is still fêted. The #MeToo movement was regarded by many as a wave of Anglosphere prudishness, contrary to the spirit of French seduction. So what can the Pelicot trial achieve?

I meet feminists from Les Amazones d’Avignon, the creators of graffiti across the city supporting Gisèle. (So as not to spoil the city walls, they write slogans on paper that can be removed.) Their latest reads “20 ans pour chacun” — 20 years for each one. I suggest a drink in a café nearby: “Not in there,” says one Amazone, “that’s where all the rapists go.” Blandine Deverlanges, 56, is part of the Coalition Féministe Loi Intégrale putting 130 proposals about sexual violence before the French parliament, including a ban on lawyers harassing victims in court. They are disgusted the defence asked Gisèle why she swam naked in her own swimming pool.

“This is a trial,” says Deverlanges, “of one extraordinary man, the monster Pelicot, and many ordinary men.” And as we talk I see a group of them emerge nervously from their favoured café and head back to the court. A collective noun for rapists? A violation, a banality, a shame.

(archive)

[metalandmagi]

Romance Anime Starter List

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sick and tired of seeing “Top ___ Best Anime of All Time” lists that are nothing but shounen. So, with "My Happy Marriage" getting a little attention from the anime community, I wanted to put together a list of some romance anime that I consider good “starters” for the genre. Because if I were just now becoming an anime fan, I’d think all there was to offer was shounen action series.

And by “starters” I mean basic stuff that’s not too…out there, and actually involves the characters getting together instead of just harems or using romance as a side plot (sorry Ouran High School Host Club and My Next Life as a Villainess). 

So if you’re new to anime and want stuff that’s not just guys beating the shit out of each other (which is also fun, don’t get me wrong), here are some basics.

Taisho Maiden Fairy Tale- When the pessimistic Tamahiko Shima loses all function in his right arm, his family sends him away to live in the mountains with the cheerful, hard working Yuzuki Tachibana…who was purchased by the Shima family to pay off her family’s debts and basically act as a caretaker/future bride for Tamahiko so they’d never have to deal with him again. It’s a more cheerful version of My Happy Marriage (without the supernatural stuff), except in this one, the guy is the one who has massive self-esteem issues and an abusive family. There are still very serious themes, but ultimately it’s not meant to make you cry every episode. I swear it’s so good, but nobody watched it!

Horimiya- A slice of life in which pretty and popular high school queen bee Hori, finds out her quiet, unassuming classmate Miyamura is hiding piercings and tattoos that could get him expelled. The two gradually find out more about each other and get together in the most realistic way I’ve seen depicted in an anime. It’s also fucking hysterical and genuinely emotional.

Recovery of an MMO Junkie- Another slice of life that focuses on two adults who meet in an MMO game without realizing they also know each other in real life. I don’t want to say much more than that. It’s adorable, and the main character is so relatable it hurts.

Love with Yamada-kun at Level 999- Speaking of MMOs, this is a newer series about Akane Kinoshita, a college first year who’s reeling from a bad break up. In an attempt to get back at her ex, she winds up meeting Akito Yamada, a popular gamer who happens to be in her guild in the MMO they both play at an IRL meetup. The two go from acquaintances to something more as they keep running into each other. Even more relatable main characters and just wholesome relationships all around.

Snow White With The Red Hair- A fantasy in which an apothecary named Shirayuki (meaning, you guessed it, “snow white”) runs away from her home in order to escape becoming the concubine of her town’s prince. While fleeing, she is rescued by Zen, the prince of a neighboring country, and she ends up becoming an herbalist to repay him. It's super cute with some genuinely swoon worthy moments and a couple that just works so well together. I have a habit of comparing this to Akatsuki no Yona, even though the two aren’t really that alike. This is more romance driven while Akatsuki no Yona is more of a serious historical fantasy with romance elements (Yona manga is amazing, but the anime barely scratches the surface, so that’s why I didn’t include it).

Sasaki to Miyano- When the shy, easily flustered Miyano meets Sasaki, a cool “delinquent” upperclassmen, the two end up bonding over manga…specifically BL manga. That’s right, Miyano is a fudanshi, but due to his small stature and somewhat feminine appearance, he’s constantly trying to convince others that he’s not interested in having his own love story where he’d be reduced to a stereotypical doe-eyed uke. But as Sasaki and Miyano spend more time together, they realize that what they have is more than friendship, and they have to come to terms with their own perception of gay relationships. This is my favorite romance of all time. It’s a slow burn, but boy is it worth it. Their relationship is so natural and realistic, just like Horimiya. Just two people hanging out and bonding over things the way people do in real life!

Given: The story of some boys in a band with trauma. Enough said. It's great. Go watch it.

Bloom Into You- Yuu Koito is a high school girl who’s been waiting her whole life for her own perfect romance to start…but when she receives a confession, she realizes she doesn’t know how to respond when she’s just not into the guy. And then she gets another confession…this time from the cool student council president Touko Nanami, who basically jumpstarts her lesbian awakening. Very cute story about how we perceive the concept of love vs actually feeling it. Also has a canonically aro/ace side character, so that’s a win for me. Another show like this is Adachi to Shimamura (but I honestly don’t remember much about it. It just didn’t stick with me as much).

Ore Monogatari- Takeo Gouda is a tall, bulky high school first year with a sensitive heart of gold. He wants nothing more than to find his own true love, but most girls are intimidated by his enormous stature, and they end up falling for his conventionally attractive friend instead. That is, until he meets the tiny, adorable Rinko Yamato. He falls in love instantly, but he’s sure she’s interested in his best friend like everyone else, so he vows to help get them together, even though his heart is breaking. Peak himbo behavior. Pure of heart, dumb of ass.

Yuri on Ice- Yes it’s the gay figure skating anime everyone knows. And yes it’s a fucking romance, okay? I will die on this hill. The romance between Viktor and Yuri is just as important as the plot!

Kaguya-sama Love Is War- Two insanely smart high school students both have a crush on the other, but since they’re…you know…high schoolers, neither of them wants to admit it first. So they come up with increasingly convoluted plans to get the other to confess first. This will go down as one of the best of all time. It’s a hilarious yet poignant modern classic.

Fruits Basket- I’ve talked about it before and I’ll talk about it again. A romance “comedy” that slowly morphs into a drama about a girl named Tohru who finds herself living with the mysterious Sohma family after her mother dies. Little does she know, the Sohmas are the victims of a  (somewhat silly, but ultimately tragic) curse that she must fight to break. Even though I’m more into it for the family drama, the romance is still top tier and plays an important role in the story. This is my second favorite anime of all time, and it’s a classic for a reason. If anyone hasn’t watched it yet, GO WATCH IT! IT WILL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!

Blue Box- A sports romance about an aspiring badminton player named Taiki Inomata who has a massive crush on the girls basketball team's star player Chinatsu Kano. Through a twist of fate, the two end up living together and having to hide it from the rest of their classmates, all while Taiki tries to work up the courage to ask Chinatsu out. It's so sweet and wholesome, and it's a great blend of sports anime and romance that can appeal to anyone who is more hesitant to get into the romance genre. The animation is also so freaking gorgeous!!!!

365 Days To The Wedding- A workplace romance between the two most awkward people you could possibly imagine! The story takes place at a travel company that is about to open a new branch in Alaska, but because our two main characters are...like I said...very awkward, they come up with a plan to avoid being sent to work at the new branch...by telling their boss they're getting married. Because they wouldn't want to split up a married couple by making one move away, right? As ridiculous as the premise sounds, hilarious shenanigans ensue, but there's also a surprising amount of serious discussions about romance and marriage. The main characters also have major autism coding, so if you're looking for a neurodivergent romance, this is it. (There's also an episode that involves a princess wanting to give up the throne to pursue a life with her girlfriend!)

And now for some honorable mentions that didn't quite fit into the regular list:

Ride Your Wave- A movie about a surfer who falls in love with a firefighter……and I’m not going to say any more than that. Go into it blind. If you like stuff like Your Name, this is a good one to watch.

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun- A comedy about a high school girl who finds out the upperclassman she has a crush on is actually a shoujo manga artist, and no matter how she tries to confess to him, he just never gets it.

The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague- A slow burn slice of life that focuses on a guy with ice powers who has a crush on his coworker. That’s it. That’s the show. When I say slow, I mean SLOW. It’s perfectly cute and fluffy, but my god does it take forever to get anywhere with these two.

Skip to Loafer- A high strung, small town girl decides to go to high school in Tokyo, where she meets a variety of classmates, including the laid back Sousuke Shima. The unlikely pair become friends, and soon enough, she starts to feel something more than friendship. The only reason I didn’t include it in the main list is because they don’t get together by the end of the first season, but it’s still really cute (also canonically trans character for the win!?)

So that’s my starter list. And no, I didn’t include Toradora, even though it’s a classic. I know it’s blasphemous, but I like it more as a comedy than a romance. It kinda lost me with the ending. But anyway, maybe someone will find something they like. Or maybe you'll just want to roast me and my picks 😅

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 3

*Abby's sticker to Bucky*

After work, the Avengers are relaxing in the common room or playing pool like Clint & Bucky. Hitting Bucky on the shoulder, "I heard lunch was entertaining", Sam enters the room with Nat.

Bucky glares a Nat. "What? I couldn't help it. It was so cute."

"Cute? Are we talking about Miss Abigail Rose?" Steve smirks at Bucky leaning up against the wall by the pool table.

"Who is Abigail Rose?" Clint cocks an eyebrow at Bucky.

Natasha leans in excited to tell the story, "Fury's new assistant got called in today and she had to bring her daughter to work with her. Just cute as can be. Sweet and precocious. She had stickers all over her shirt. How old was she?"

"Two? Three maybe?"

"Adorable! Made a beeline straight to Bucky." Bucky tries to concentrate on his shot while shaking his head but the tips of his ears are turning red.

Incredulously, "Wouldn't give me the time of day," Steve acts disgruntled & shocked.

Sam teases,"You weren't her type. She's into Cyborgs."

Steve laughs, "You're right because she loved the arm! The arm was so pretty. 'I loves it!' "

"Poor mom was so embarrassed. Abby didn't want to leave Buck's side. Finally before she left she peels off a sticker from her shirt and sticks it to his arm."

Sam nods, "It was the 2yr old version of giving someone your insta." They laughs at Bucky's expense and Buck rolls his eyes.

Most people are afraid of him. He doesn't need to threaten or say anything for people to stay away. He did not have that affect on Abby. She didn't fear him at all. She seeked him out. Her tiny body leaning against him. She didn't cringe at the feel of cold metal. Her little fingers traced the gold detail on his arm.

Nat grabs Buck's arm, "Aw, where's the sticker?" Turning it, this way and that. "You lost it," Nat frowns.

Bucky pulls out his ID card and shows them the back where he stashed Abby's sticker, joining in with their laughter. "They were cute."

Clint catches him, "They??"

"She."

"Uh uh, man. You said they."

Natasha smiles slyly, ready to play matchmaker. "Y/N is gorgeous!" Bucky shrugs yet nods staring at the sticker before shoving the card back in his pocket.

*****

Some days are such a struggle. You never would have thought you'd be a widow with a baby to raise by yourself. Abby's father was a pilot in the Air Force. That's what attracted you to begin with. The image of a sexy daring fighter pilot. Things Jason did or talked about were so exciting. He was an adrenaline junkie for sure. Which is fun for a boyfriend, but not the best for a husband & father.

Now, its just you and Abby fending for yourselves. This job with the Avengers was heaven sent. It was so hard to make ends meet but now that you're with the Avengers, a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You'll be able to give Abby a better life. Yet, sometimes just the day-to-day chores overwhelm you.

You finished getting yourself ready for work and started tackling the task of getting Abby ready for daycare. You brush Abby's hair trying to get it into a ponytail. Don't know why you go through the effort, because it's just going to fall out by midday after playing and naptime. "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Today is school day?"

"Yes. You get to go to daycare and see Ms. Grace and all your friends."

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Remember the man with the pretty arm?" She tries to turn around to face you and you have to face her forward so you can get the ponytail up.

"Yes, I do."

"Me, too." You nod, knowing where this is heading already. "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Mr S'gent don't go daycare."

"No, he doesn't. He's a grown-up. He goes to work." Finishing her hair, you carry her back to the room to put on her shoes.

"Mama?"

Rolling your eyes, "Yes?"

"I'm not a grows up."

Sitting her on the bed you kneel before her to put on her socks & shoes, "Grown-up. No. You are my baby."

"Mama?"

"Abby Rose!" Making wide eyes at her, "You are making Mama crazy." Abby laughs and pats your head.

"Mama?"

"Yesssss, Abby. What?"

She places her little hands on each of your cheeks, "Cans I go to work with yous?" She gives you the most angelic smile. You growl, picking her up & throwing her over your shoulder. She screams and giggles. "Mama!!!"

Bringing her down, to prop her on your hip, grabbing her backpack & your bag to make the trek to her daycare which luckily is only a couple blocks away. "You need to go to daycare."

"But...but...I wants to be with yous," she pouts.

"But...but...NO. You don't want to be with me. You want to see Sargent Barnes." She throws her head back and laughs with a cackle. You shake your head at her. Excuse me, Lil Miss! Who's child is this??

"Mamaaa."

"Abbyyyy." You laugh but sober up, "I'm sorry, baby, but no. You need to go to school."

"But...but...what if he forgets me."

"He will never forget you. He has your sticker. He has your drawing."

She puts her thumb in her mouth & nods her head, but she looks sad. She rests her head on your shoulder for the rest of the walk to daycare.

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute

[ironinkpen]

The interpretation of Rise Raph as a 'perfect responsible soft boy uwu' is so BORING I'm sorry, Raph is a rowdy adrenaline junkie with anxiety and I won't take this slander any longer

Raph secretly kept an enemy soldier in their actual literal house as a sparring partner. Raph glued his brothers together and dragged them out to fight crime. Raph once asked Leo to punch him in the face to prove he 'takes damage like a boss.' Raph tried to lift a school bus, twice. Raph offered to help his favorite wrestler beat his little brother up. When Leo suggests evacuating Bullhop, Raph says no bc the best defense is a good offense babey. Raph's idea of a 'friendly chat' with April's upstairs neighbor is to put on a black ski mask and go stand menacingly at their door. It takes Raph 10 episodes to conclude that they should MAYBE start training. Raph's plan to get a potentially priceless (and potentially FRAGILE) museum artifact is to punch a car in the middle of a busy street and also cut it in half with his brother still inside.

Raph's never met a problem he wouldn't try to punch in the face and does not know the meaning of the words 'excessive force.' He roughhouses with his bros and drags them out to fight villains and thinks any plan that doesn't involve an all-out brawl is boring and lame. He'll do anything to protect his family from harm and be a hero, but also he eats wet salami off the floor and once single-handedly destroyed a library.

I just adore how, at his core, Rise Raph is such a classic Raph—impulsive and stubborn and caring and passionate. He is a very sweet, strong, honorable guy who has a very powerful sense of personal responsibility... and he is also the exact kind of jock who throws you in the pool at a party without checking if you have your phone in your pocket first.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Stolas has an S/O that's obsessed with his scent

His Scent~

You met the prince when both of you were young, Stolas was, well, a nerd. Book worm, rather, if you felt more polite.

And despite his best attempts to interact with other nobles or even other children, it became painfully obvious to the boy nobody really liked him.

A deeply painful realisation for the owls sensitive soul.

This is where you come in, you being the son of an Imp servant, would too lack any real friends, though you were raised as an Imp, so you never really expected much.

This would be how you found the young prince hiding behind the palace.

It was a nook the servants usually used when they wanted soem fresh air, or simply to hide from their work.

You of course, did the whole formal act, asking if he was alright, if he needed anything.

But when it became obvious he was sad, somberly telling you he was fine, but given his statr you didn't really believe him.

Seeing him in such a state, you'd open up to him, asking him if he was alright.

Stolas was hesitant at first, not sure if he could trust you, but when you genuinely opened up to him, he'd warm up to you, the two of you quickly talking back and forth.

It'd be through your talks, you taking e genuine interest in his books that a genuine friendship would develop, the two of you growing close.

You'd end up meeting In that spot often.

You being his only friend, and with the spot being isolated enough to not draw attention, it became your little sanctuary, the two of you spending countless hours there building a deep friendship with one and other.

But it'd be one day, the Owl having received both a verbal and physical lashing from his father, that you'd find him in tears.

You finding him in such a state did the only thing you could. You hugged him.

You'd hold him close and it seemed almost instantly you both realised 2 very important things.

1. Stolas was incredibly touch starved.

The man feeling so very strange, yet so delightful as you held him close. Your warmth and firm body making him feel incredible in your arms.

And 2. You loved his smell.

You didn't know if it was soap, or his clothes, or just his general musk, but you were instantly hooked.

You held the man for hours, the owl holding you back, adoring the contact, relishing every second of it.

This quickly became routine, the two of you meeting in the back of the palace, changing your meeting spot to the middle of the palaces hedge maze, the two of you free to get nice and close.

Literally.

Stolas would lay back on a blanket, the man holding you too his chest. You curling up against him, nuzzling his fluffy chest, adoring his stuffy yet deep scent.

You were hooked. His scent like a drug, your mind going numb as you nuzzled his chest fluff, the chest tuft like a drug for you, as you lay against him, breathing deep.

You'd spend a good bit of time with the Owl, like, not just with your nose in his fluff, the two of you spending lots of time together.

You'd play games, read or just spent time together. Enjoying each other's company.

You'd often spend time around his book, reading it together or the avian would just read it to you, you learning a great deal from the man and his books.

But despite this, you spent most of your time craving his scent, usually curled up against him, breathing in that musk, or wishing you could do as much, keeping close to the owl.

You'd become unreasonably close.

You being Stolas' only and closest friend, he'd become deeply dependent on your, care and your intimate contact, loving the way you'd hug him, expecting nothing in return.

You, adoring his scent, became something of a scent junkie. You taking any opportunity to breath in that distinct avian musk, his feathered form creating a unique and distinct scent you couldnt get enough of.

You spent countless hours together, just curled up. You nuzzling his fluff as he read to you, the both of you happy with the arrangement.

But despite your bliss, your relationship's defining moment would be when your mother caught you with the Prince.

She wasn't demon royalty, something you both thanked Lucifer for.

Though that didn't stop her from chewing you both out, though she targeted you specifically, being her son and ya know, not demon royalty.

She chewed you out, berating you as she demanded you never have such inappropriate contact with a Goetia ever again.

After this the two of you would spend several months apart, even as you both desperately craved each other's embrace, you couldn't risk getting caught, and with your increased duties, you both had work to do.

No chance to sneak off.

In the time you spent apart, you quickly became a servant, working your very hardest to become a trusted and valued servant.

With you working your ass off, you'd eventually end up in Stolas' vicinity.

He was eager to greet you, hoping to rekindle the relationship you once had, the man missing you dreadfully during your separation.

Yet as you walked past the man, you stonewalled him, walking past him like he was nothing.

Stolas' hope dampened, the man going back to the depressed state he was in before. His mood always dampened, believing you never wanted to be near him again.

Yet after a few weeks, Stolas finally giving up on you, falling into a deep depression, believing his only friend had abandoned him, was shocked as one day, as he walked down the halls of his palace, he'd suddenly find himself yanked into a nearby closet.

You'd hug the man close, holding him for several minutes, nuzzling his fuzzy chest, practically huffing his scent.

Stolas, recovering from the shock of the sudden turn of events, smiled. Tears forming in his eyes as he held you close, the two of you holding each other for several minutes as Stolas shed tears, so very happy to hold you again.

You'd talk for some time, speaking softly as you apologised for ignoring him, but you had to play your part, not wanting to blow it before working your way to a position of standing amongst the staff. You taking the occasional sniff of the owl as you explained it to him.

Stolas meanwhile just held you close, relishing your embrace, telling you he didn't care. He was just happy to have you back, missing you dreadfully.

You'd talk, quickly agreeing not to act on your mutual impulses in public. Both of you thinking clearly.

It'd quickly become a part of your daily routine, you always snatching him into a nearby closet, stolas loving the surprise, giggling madly as you held him, you huffing his chest, the man happily holding you close as you both stood there, relishing each other.

This was a common occurrence, and the only thing that kept him sane as he endured the monotony of Royal life.

It became even stranger as you grew, Stolas becoming a lanky, yet powerful man, you still remaining the itty bitty Imp you were as kids, the man now more than triple your height.

Stolas came to love this size difference, never stating as much in plain words and yet he adored the difference, the avian relishing the power dynamic.

It was funny.

Once youd been enough to pin him to the ground, yet now. Now he held you so easily, the man holding your form like e would a stack of books, and yet holding you was even easier.

But ehat he really found funny was that you still believed you held the power.

You never outright said it, but it was clear you believed you were in charge, you usually being the one to drag him into a closet or private room.

It'd be not long after Octavias birth, you taking your natural place as his right hand as Stolas ascended to head of the household, though your position mostly worked as a cover to worship the man's form when in private, an arrangement he was mostly satisfied with.

Stolas, maturing, grew more confident, his form becoming more dominant, the man deciding he wanted your relationship to become more than it was.

It'd be one day, you attempting to pull the man into a private room that he'd finally take command.

He'd resist your pull, you freezing before looking towards him, concerned you'd been caught.

But instead, you found your face forced into his chest fluff, holding you there as youd stare up at him, eyes widening as Stolas simply smirked at you, the avian gripped the base of your skill, fingers gripped between your horns as you breathed in his musk.

With a smirk he'd hold you there for several minutes, out in the open, relishing the look of shock, then realisation in your eyes as he felt an odd sense of submission, finally feeling the mans power over you.

He was in control.

In Command.

The man claming and relishing this new and odd power dynamic.

Leaning in, he kissed your forehead, you already hooked on his scent as he cooed, telling you he'd handle it.

It'd be as you finally pulled back, Stolas holding you tight. And after panting hard you'd look to him, the owl smiling smugly, leaning in to tell you bluntly.

"Your mine. And you'll do as I say. Understand?" He spoke softly, yet with a commanding edge, a tone used by royalty, staring down at you.

Seeing the man's crimson gaze staring at you, you'd gulp, nodding your head, submitting to the man. Only for the man to shove your face back into his fluff, relishing the newfound power he held over you. Loving your reaction. Your... submission. The man feeling this power for the first time in his life, yet finding it, delightfully Sinful.

This marked a distinct shift in your relationship, the man taking charge from that moment forwards.

You found your relationship change over night, the man taking a dominant stance from that moment forwards. Taking command on your dynamic.

It was... odd. Yet you adored the affection he showed. His power almost as addictive as his scent.

The man became the dominant partner in your relationship. As he always would, yet lacking the confidence to embrace his role.

It became a power trip for the man.

He was so used to you being in control of your meetings, when and where about them that when he took charge, it took a minute or two to get used to being in charge.

It didn't take long though, the man relishing his new found power over you, adoring the way you submitted to him, Stolas especially loving the way you loved his scent.

It was almost funny how quickly the demon came to dominate you, the owl wearing a near sadistic smile as he'd hold you down, face smashed into your chest, or his pits, knowing you loved it, that only making it even better for the man.

Stolas, while it woukd take time, with Octavia being born and thr boost of his confidence and ego from dominating you, along with his love for you, the man would divorce his wife as he went through a slight power trip, taking you as his lover.

He'd spend days holding you close, holding you to his musky, avian form. Holding you to his musty feathered chest. He'd forgo perfumes, preferring to expose you to his natural scents, loving how docile you became.

It was quite the power trip for the owl, the man relishing having you close, and seeing the power he held over you, the man felt like a lord. A king in his own right, his love for dominating you only eclipsed by his love for you.

You of course, adored him, loving the owl with every fibre of your being, ensuring you treated him like a king, A God, adoring every inch of the man you could, something Stolas relished every second of.

It'd take some time, especially with the divorce in progress, yet after winning, mostly with your moral support and gaining majority custody of his daughter, the man became even more drunk with power over you.

You became a pet, yet in the very best ways. The man adoring you as much as you did to him.

The man loved you, loved being with you, and how youd be with him.

The owl relished the way you'd submit to him, his favourite ability being to grab you and shove you into his chest, making you huff his scent till you were drunk on him, the owl utterly dominating you.

It was an absolutely unbalanced relationship, Stolas holding all the power, thr man loving the fact, but put simply, so did you.

Stolas was your S/O and master, and you loved every second of it, breathing in the man's element yet sinfully delightful scent.

[whiskehorange]

jason,bubba ,michael and carrie with a s/o who loves fnaf and spend hours talking about the teorys and lore ?

oh yeah baby I know what the fuck is up with this shit right here

Jason

Get's invested because you talk about it so often

Definitely has names remembered and and gives you nods of acknowledgement whenever you re tell him something, signaling that he understands

Its a bit therapeutic for him to hear you go on and on, especially seeing how much your face lights up or contorts whenever you speak about specific timeline events. If only he got to experience this when he was a kid

Hates William with a burning passion. Like whenever he comes up in conversation he wants to combust (real)

His favorite animatronic is Glamrock Bonnie, but hates talking about the theories, makes him sad

Bubba

Just nods and smiles the whole time you talk, just happy to hear you speak to him about cute little animals and whatever the fuck a mega pizzaplex is

Can't remember shit about the lore, but absolutely remembers the names of the animatronics, at least up until the 3rd game

Has both the worst and best times playing the games if you have them. Every jump scare works on him and while he jumps and yells, he can't help but seem to be a bit of an adrenaline junkie and can't wait for another one

His favorite animatronic is Chica, specifically from fnaf 1

Michael

Retains barely any information whatsoever. Picks up on some of the names but just sits there and listens. However, you can't tell if he's breathing heavy under that mask or snoring

Doesn't jump a single time whenever you watch gameplay, who would've thought?

Now that I think about it, would probably get jump scared once and then get embarrassed it scared him so he'd punch the screen and then act like nothing happened for the rest of the day

His favorite is the red one, although favorite is a strong word

Carrie

Takes her a bit to get the ropes of what you're talking about, seeing as it's a form of media she would never be allowed to get into if she was still with her mother

Is as happy as can be while she listens to you speak for hours about the lore and the story line and she gets really emotional about it to

Thinks the story is extremely sad and always puts in her two cents about how awful William is or how bad she feels for the animatronics/kids

Absolutely adores Helpy and hates seeing him get hurt in those minigames LMAOOO

[repulsivecxnt]

Your kiss felt like I was touched by an angel 𓆩♡𓆪

[jrow]

May Prompts (29)

Day 28 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 30 here.

Hero

John Watson is nothing short of a hero.

Doctor. Writer. Veteran.

He will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life.

He is not a hero.

Junkie. Sociopath. Freak.

That John would choose him for a friend is unfathomable. That John could want more, entirely out of the realm of possibility.

It does not compute. It cannot have happened.

Currently, John is looking at him, concern etched on his features.

“Are you okay, Sherlock? You fainted.”

“No, that doesn’t seem right.”

The worry on John’s face morphs into a smile. “Who’s the doctor here?”

He furrows his brow. Perhaps he did faint. Perhaps he hit his head. Perhaps that’s why he hallucinated the conversation with John. But then he sees the gift. “You gave me a Yamaha SV250. And a case decorated with Rosie’s handprint.”

“Err … yes? I mean yes, I did.”

“That doesn’t seem right. Because that means you want to move back. With Rosie.”

The smile gets bigger. “Yes.”

“And this would entail sleeping in my bed. With me. Presumably.”

“Presumably.” And now John looks like the cat that got the canary.

“And I fainted?”

“When I tell everyone the story later, I may use the term swoon.”

His eyes snap to John’s. “You want to tell everyone?”

John’s smile softens. “Yeah, quite badly, actually. I want to move in. I want to sleep in your bed. And I want to tell everyone. Not that anyone will be all that surprised.”

None of this makes sense. “But you … you are … you’re a war hero!” he sputters.

John knits his brow. “I don’t think that’s true and I don’t see how it’d be relevant even if it was.”

“Of course it’s relevant!” he says, sitting up. “War heroes don’t raise families with sociopaths!”

John sighs fondly, reaching out and touching his arm. “It’s a good thing you aren’t a sociopath then.” A pause. “You know, I was just thinking how beautiful protagonists don’t usually end up with minor side characters.”

He scoffs. John can be such a fool sometimes. “I am the not the protagonist, John. I wasn’t even in the story until you came along.”

John chuckles and stands, before reaching out a hand to help him up. “ Well, I am certainly not the protagonist. So who does that leave?”

They both reflexively look up when they hear the sound of tiny feet hitting the ground. A couple seconds later comes the loud squeak of the upstairs door.

“Lock, play!” Rosie yells at the top of her lungs. The speed at which that girl can go from fast asleep to boundless energy is staggering.

John sighs and looks at his watch. “Right on schedule, I suppose. Busy day means short nap.”

“You go lie down, I am the one being summoned,” he says. Despite his fainting/swooning a moment ago, John is the one who needs to rest. He coughs and feels heat rising in his cheeks. “Lie down in … our bed?”

John looks at him with an expression that can only be described as adoration. “Okay, but can I make one request before you go see to the princess upstairs?”

He nods, slowly. Fairly certain, and fairly terrified, of what’s coming.

“Can I kiss you now?”

He nods again. And then, without hesitation, John kisses him. It’s slow and soft and like he’s something precious. And it is terrifying, but in the best possible way.

He’s still not 100% sure this isn’t a hallucination.

He closes his eyes and returns the kiss.

John Watson is nothing short of a hero.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty @quimerasyutopias

[m00ri]

First post no way! Time to listen to junkie brush

Ghostface/Danny Johnson x gn reader

Warning; Slightly obssesive behaviour, blood, stabby stab stab

You look pretty in red.

The stress that came with every single match was unbearable. Every single time your body was enveloped by smoke your heart sank, and your head felt light. The worst part of this whole ordeal is; you won’t know the killer before the match. You can count yourself lucky if you see them in the first minutes of the match and they don’t see you. It helps you, not much but enough to know how to deal with them when the time comes.

Gideon Meat Plant was the worst map you have found yourself in. Even though it had many rooms you got lost very fast. The concrete walls made you feel small, stuck and the smell, God the smell! The air was moist, suffocating, a light hint of copper mixed with the sweet scent of death and rot hung in the air. The first time you got here you choked and gagged.

Your hands clumsily fumbled with the broken generator in the edge of the map, your head was buzzing, heart in your throat as you tried your best not to mess up. One small mistake would lead to it exploding and the killer finding you. You haven’t run into the killer, but the other survivors were not so lucky, you could tell by how loud Jake screamed. It echoed through the halls sending a shiver down your spine. You hoped the killer wasn’t Ghostface, you two had some kind of beef. He likes to start chasing you first, just to scare you, then before you even know or notice you are the last person to be alive and the real game of cat and mouse begins. The worst part is he didn’t even say a single word.

Ghostface liked to torture you, watching how you would cry and bleed out crawling in the mud, only to pick you up and hook you.

Ghostface also had a fun habit of watching you, stalking, and taking photos. At first you didn’t notice a thing. He was one sneaky bastard, he seemed very happy and content with that, after some time he appeared to get bored of you being unaware of his existence.

He left you photos, a whole bunch, some of them had something written on the back. They were usually hearts, written in drying flaky blood. He scared the shit out of you and he liked that oh, too much.

You hate him with your whole heart.

Suddenly the generator explodes, hissing in pain you hide your hands and get on your feet. It was loud, echoing through the halls only to fall into silence and then nothing. No loud heartbeat, no chase. Nothing. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you bring your slightly sweaty and burnt hands to your chest. Out of instinct For a second a wave of comfort overwhelmed you, you were safe. Well, as safe as you could be in the Entities realm. “Boo” Your eyes widen and before you are even able to open your mouth to scream you are stabbed in the back and kicked onto the floor. White warm pain blossomed in the places he stabbed you, vision blurry from the impact that your head made with the floor. He sat on your back, stabbing you more. Ghostface grabbed your head, pulling it back to take a photo. A coppery taste filled your mouth, you coughed and it spilled onto the ground.

He took a few more photos, and when he felt satisfied he got off of you. Your mind was blank, the hot pain in your back made it impossible to think or scream.

You could only let out low whimpers, it made him chuckle. He lifted his mask, you could see his blurry smile and before you knew it he gently kissed you. You didn’t kiss back, your strength leaving your body as quickly as your blood. He licked the blood of your lips. He watched the light fade away from your eyes, oh how he adored the sight. His smile got wider.

Before the fog had the chance to take you away, you heard him chuckle and say;

“You look pretty in red”

[benana22]

overdose

lyrics from best junkie you adore by jazmin bean

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Nina The Killer Headcanons

Psycho Barbie’s turn in the spotlight!!!!

I’ve always thought Nina in concept was so fucking cool, like, an obsessed fangirl becoming a copycat killer always scratched a good niche in my brain, so I never hated her like most of the fandom did when I was younger, I just never really interacted with anything about her cause. The fandom hated her, lmao.

Expect canon typical violence/topics beyond this point pookies <3

TGIRL SWAG!!!!!!!!! Nina is trans I’m making it canon right now and you can’t do shit about it

Roughly about 25, two years younger than Jeff

Ann ain’t the only zombie adjacent character in the mansion

Nina actually has zero fucking clue why she keeps coming back every time Jeff murders her, but she’s having fun with it so ig it’s fine right?

Some of the more supernaturally intelligent members of the mansion also have no fucking idea what her deal is. By all accounts she should be dead and rotting a thousand times over

Eyeless Jack has done four vivisections on her and all yielded the same result, human

Except humans don’t bounce back after having their heart cut out????

Seconds after losing organs they just???? Reappear??? Inside her body???? What the fuck????

Out of everyone she’s a massive enigma. No one can figure it out but everyone loves using her as a guinea pig for murder purposes

Ya girl is such a masochist she actually gets disappointed when people don’t like testing new stabbing methods on her

She’s so unapologetically a freak, she’s cringe, but she’s free

Out of everyone in the mansion she’s the easiest to get along with

Sometimes to her detriment, her hyper extroverted personality off puts some of the more quiet and reserved inhabitants

No one truly hates her, you can’t exactly hate someone who doesn’t have a combative bone against you in their body, but not everyone likes to stick around her

It bothers her only a little bit when she’s noticed she’s pushed people away with her intense personality (it bothers her A LOT-)

She loves collecting and gifting trinkets and jewelry to people. The amount of Kandi bracelets she’s made Jeff and Ben, good lord-

The most persistent determined bitch in the world. You would have to nuke her entire existence to get her to stop focusing/going after something

Of course it ends up making her stubborn

Buuuuuuut she’s also an honorary favorite dog of Slenderman

The household often has monthly contests to see who can have the highest body count. You’ll never guess who’s almost always in the top 3

So she’s out on missions a lot. She comes back and gossips talks about what’s happened when she comes back two days later

Surprisingly doesn’t have a sweet tooth? You’d think with how manic she acts she injects sugar and caffeine into her bloodstream, but nope, she doesn’t. She hates fruit candies and can only stomach dark chocolate

Always comes back from hits and supply runs with tons of candy anyways to share with everyone

Is a SLUT for spicy foods

Ann had to cut her tongue off one time because she fucked it up so bad eating stuff that was borderline radioactive with how spicy it was

Everyone is convinced she would eat actual nuclear waste if given the chance just to feel the burn

The biggest foodie in general too. She’s not the best at cooking but everyone loves her pancakes

Ben made a joke one time about her putting crack in the batter. Two weeks later she had to apologize to mansion parents Masky and Hoody about why half the house was suffering withdrawal symptoms. Someone has to monitor her while she cooks now. Bummer.

She’s a total junkie but she is responsible about it at least dammit!

Like yeah she gets stoned out of her goddamn mind with Ben every other weekend, but that shit doesn’t leave her or his room

She has to set a good example for Sally!!!!!

The kid fucking adores Nina like a big sister

Nina is always bringing her goodies and toys

In return Sally does her makeup for the day

Does it look like a 5 year old scribbled all over her face? Yes and she doesn’t care!!!! She wears that shit with pride

Helen made fun of it once and he has since learned not to piss off the hyperactive pink glitter mayhem lady who knows how to wield a chainsaw

Oh yeah fuck knives. Nina got tired of knives pretty quick. Ya girl USES A CHAINSAW

It’s totally not the same kind of chainsaw Jeff used when he was a scare actor in college shut up no way

She’s really good with the thing too. It’s so heavy and she totes it around like it weighs nothing

She’s got such a sleeper build it’s insane. She’s 5”2 and 160 pounds of pure whoop ass

AND SHE DOES IT ALL IN PLATFORMS AND ACRYLIC NAILS??????

She’s just constantly full of energy and needs to be doing something at every second or she thinks she’ll explode

Besides her signature chainsaw covered in stickers and glitter, she’s also pretty handy with handguns, axes, and baseball bats

She’s got a small collection of weapons under her bed

Three guns (all customized with stickers and paint), a large axe (with a heart in the middle of the blade), and two baseball bats (one covered in nails)

Her room is a fucking mess but she knows where anything and everything is

Girl can’t even see her floor and she’s somehow able to find what she needs in there

Bead curtains, a disco ball, leopard print carpet on the ceiling, lava lamps, it looks like scene mixed with the 70’s threw up in there

Not exactly the most fashionable but has the biggest wardrobe and most flashy way of dressing

Like. I don’t even think she owns anything solid. Definitely not solid black

Has given herself many tattoos and piercings

To the point she’s so good at it that the others start coming to her asking for her to do the same to them

Her hair never stays one color for long, but often goes between red and purple

Is best friends/close with: Ben, Kagekao, Jason, LJ, Sally, the Puppeteer, Clockwork, and Jane

Has a tolerable relationship/is neutral about: Masky, Hoody, Liu, Eyeless Jack, Ann, Helen, and Slenderman

Hates no one

Has a… questionable relationship with Jeff

When first starting off he fucking hated her, but she was so goddamn persistent and just kept getting back up despite the multiple times he was certain he’d killed her, to the point she’s grown on him like a parasite

She sees him as her ultimate best friend, her ride or die, and he’s flattered…but he definitely doesn’t feel intensely as she does

Like he obviously doesn’t hate her anymore and actually quite enjoys her company. But she also annoys the shit out of him and he often finds himself needing a break from her constant state of “on”. Girl has no off switch

The two of them are often found lounging together and talking random shit, or sparring

She believes that somehow the first time he killed her, it gave her her weird zombie regeneration abilities

And of course she thinks that’s cool as fuck and nearly worshipped the ground he walks on because of it

The more time has passed the more she’s grown to stop feeling like she needs him to function

She went from making herself Jeff’s biggest fan her whole personality to becoming an actual decent person outside of her unhealthy obsession with him

Surprisingly never had any romantic feelings for the man

Like yeah she was obsessed but not like that

She just thinks he’s waaaaay cooler than other people see him as

Jane and Clockwork are her girl solidarity bffs

Jane was practically the girl’s mentor in how to be girl 101 when Nina was beginning to realize she was trans

Whereas Clockwork was her combat mentor who taught Nina everything she knows about kicking someone’s ass

They went from her cool lesbian moms to her cool lesbian besties

She’s one of the only few who can tolerate LJ’s nonsense

And by nonsense I mean his usual mad hatter ramblings and personality. Nina thinks it’s hilarious and loves that he’s just as down to clown (SORRY) as she is

Her, him, and Sally are the prank trio

The two would do anything to hear that little girl erupt into giggles

Her and Ben bond over scene fashion and old internet stuff

Ben is also her weed dealer. He’s everyone’s weed dealer but she gets special treatment and doesn’t have to pay him shit cause they’re besties

She’s a pretty positive person overall but cannot fucking stand/HATES anyone outside the mansion

She views everyone there like family

The outside world not so much. Bullying has really left her bitter

Hates blackmail but definitely holds grudges!!! It’s hard to get on her bad side though, so no one’s worried about it

Loves breakcore, kpop, jpop, any kind of hyper and electronic music, extra points if it’s pop