#but instead of ANY form social anxiety

[minweber]

Since everyone is posting Rooks, wanted to show off mine:

Yarina "Found In a Crypt, Raised In a Cave, Who'd Have Thought That Human Connection Is Something I Crave" Ingellvar, who is apparently the protagonist in a story about a sheltered introvert forced to interact with people, only to suddenly find out that this shit is actually pretty easy.

[novy2sirius]

MERCURY HOUSE CORE ©novy2sirius

trigger warning: mental health issues, pedophilia, killing, physical health issues ☘️

this is just a random post abt things ppl with these placements could experience ☘️

these r only abt isolated placements so take it with a grain of salt bc the whole chart matters ☘️

a lot of these r experiences i’ve heard from my friends and ppl who’ve purchased readings from me directly ☘️

☿ mercury in 1h core

being diagnosed with more mental illnesses than u can count, being very intelligent which leads u to be anxious just by existing bc of all ur knowledge, saying things u don’t mean cuz u were angry, being told u have a youthful face, knowing a bunch of random facts abt things and telling ppl and them asking why tf u know that or care, hyper-fixating on things u can’t control, getting internet hate by simply existing, getting dmed sexual stuff by random weird dudes trying to prey on u (especially when ur younger), getting nauseous bc ur anxiety is so bad (especially before school), having sexy hands, skipping school to be on ur phone all day and do nothing, asking way too many questions bc of ur curiosity abt everything and annoying ppl (especially as a kid), giving ur opinion when no one asked for it, being told u could be a good rapper/singer, being rly good at flirting bc of ur charm, cussing a lot

☿ mercury in 2h core

being obsessed with mukbang/eating videos and then making urself rly hungry and being frustrated bc u can’t have the food they’re eating in the video, valuing ur own opinions more than others, not answering texts or calls bc ur too lazy to but then liking those same ppls posts on instagram, saying “um” too much or having a lot of pauses in between words bc ur a slow thinker, talking to ur toys as a kid when u were lonely, getting all ur food recipes from pinterest, buying online gift cards for ppl instead of putting effort into an actual gift/on the flip side if ur a more creative person putting a lot of thought into gifts, being good at making things from scratch, being more wealthy in online games than in real life, being obsessed w the papa’s food games on cool math as a kid, holding grudges against ppl who kill u on roblox, liking scents that smell like food or scents that make u smell rich/boujee, always making money, making money online

☿ mercury in 3h core

double texting bc u have sm to say and will forget abt it if u don’t type it immediately, being able to get lots of followers on social media, being gossiped abt online, being a huge reader, enjoying hearing abt other ppls drama but not wanting to be in any, having a child-like energy (this can be in a positive or negative way depending on what vibration ur at in life), saying childish things in arguments when ur at a lower vibration (example: meh meh meh :p), drama following u wherever u go, aging well, being obsessed with sims, not believing things unless there’s very good reasoning to back them up, being able to communicate well, being a talented writer, forming all ur opinions from ur older siblings (if u have any), math or literature being ur favorite subject, being a good driver, enjoying traveling but not for too long bc u get tired quickly of it, being charming af, being witty and quickly thinking of good jokes

☿ mercury in 4h core

posting all ur feelings on social media or going thru that emo phase in middle school where u would post those sad lyric vids on ur snapchat, ur family gossiping abt u a lot and u overhearing it in the next room, having a super low pain tolerance, enjoying watching self care vids, getting baby fever after seeing tiktoks of cute babies, being a rly good person to come to if someone needs a comfort person, living in an rv/camper at some point in ur life, telling ur mom everything and her giving u advice abt certain situations but then u don’t listen and she ends up being right abt the whole thing, coming to ur mom for advice on everything in general, ur mom being more childish than u, being able to write stories that readers rly emotionally relate to a lot, ur mom having videos of u still up on her facebook from when u were little that still haunt u to this day

☿ mercury in 5h core

being creative as hell, being a natural performer, having a fun childlike energy, being a huge risk taker and thrill seeker, being a talented actor, being rly good at video games and possibly becoming famous from playing them, living for the drama but not wanting to be a part of it, downloading tinder and not knowing y u don’t just delete it, being sassy, being told ur trying to hard to be the main character but u literally r the main character and can’t help that, not having ur first love until ur an adult and only experiencing puppy love in ur youth, going to a bunch of concerts, being turned on by wattpad stories and feeling like a whore bc of it, flirting w ppl online and then being scared to say anything to them in person when u see each other, being a good driver

☿ mercury in 6h core

ppl saying u come off super innocent (even if ur not), constantly doing things for others even when they don’t give the same energy in return, being obsessed with improving ur health or with videos online abt being healthy/fit, feeling awful before going to school bc it gives u horrible anxiety and makes u feel like ur gonna puke, thinking ur gonna get a stroke every time u have a normal headache (and being a hypochondriac in general), not functioning without consistency in ur life, having an entire pinterest board of cute animals, being good with animals, being obsessed w ur hygiene and feeling nasty when u don’t shower everyday, weirdly loving medical shows such as greys anatomy, having a lot of stomach issues

☿ mercury in 7h core

convincing ppl to do things with ur charm, wanting to tell ppl something and be honest with them but being too scared bc u don’t want them to hate u and r constantly afraid u’ll hurt them, copying ur romantic partners slang/ur partners copying urs, meeting lovers online, dating or marrying gemini/virgo placements, having age gaps in ur relationships, getting into a lot of conflicts online, ur ex partner/ex best friends posting abt u and subbing u (not saying ur name directly but talking abt u) online after u have a fallout, flirting with ppl on club penguin or roblox when u were younger, changing ur opinions easily based on what ur partner or close friends think, dating ppl when ur too young to even drive, posting a lot abt ur relationship online

☿ mercury in 8h core

analyzing ppl well and understanding them before anyone else does, ppl randomly telling u their deepest darkest secrets when u didn’t even ask, being interested in the way ppls minds work which leads u to become obsessed w books abt psychology/astrology/tarot/etc, starting to masturbate from a rly young age that’s almost concerning, having a lot of mental health issues bc of ur childhood trauma, using dark humor as a way to cope with ur trauma, not realizing how much trauma u’ve went thru until someone verbally tells u that u’ve been thru a lot (usually a therapist), being a tomboy as a kid, being obsessed with true crime, being told ur mysterious, saying out of pocket shit that has high shock value, being stalked online

☿ mercury in 9h core

having a more optimistic mindset than everyone around u, enjoying traveling a lot, wanting to leave ur hometown as soon as possible, driving when traveling instead of taking a plane cuz u don’t wanna pay for the flight, majoring in communications or something involving technology or literature, having an interest in other cultures more than ur own, coming off as intelligent bc of the way u talk and ur mannerisms, being told that u could be a good lawyer from a young age, being a good interviewer, knowing multiple languages, having logical ethics, being a comedian, being an amazing story teller

☿ mercury in 10h core

trying to keep ur daily life private and ppl still getting in ur business, being able to influence the public easily bc they seem to care a lot abt what u say, being famous on social media, being a famous singer, rumors being spread abt u to the public, having a talent for teaching others, having goals that u set as a kid that u feel u must fulfill, having a career involving cars, having a career involving technology, having a career involving writing/literature, being seen as someone who’s intelligent (especially in ur workplace), having dad humor, coming off as a know it all (10h is associated with experts and mercury is the thinking/the mind), being known for ur humor and how funny u r, playing online games that involve having a job such as papa’s freezeria

☿ mercury in 11h core

having random bursts of creative ideas and doing crazy stuff like writing an entire movie and then literally forgetting abt it the next day, ur best friends being ur siblings, having the most random thought processes, being able to make friends easily, having lots of online friends, being clumsy as hell, having a fan page/editing page when u were younger, being known as “the weird kid” in school (this doesn’t mean it’s always in a bad way tho it can mean in a unique/fun way), being popular online, having unique mannerisms, having a unique voice/unique speech patterns, being a good rapper, being dragged into online drama, cussing a lot, saying random things out of nowhere like ice bear from we bare bears, having a lot of ideas that r unique bc u think outside of the box, having unique perceptions, constantly changing ur mind abt things

☿ mercury in 12h core

speaking/writing things into existence with minimal effort, being obsessed with the feeling of nostalgia and making urself feel it then regretting it bc it hurts, ppl interrupting u and talking over u a lot, ppl ignoring what ur saying and making u feel like a ghost, having a huge interest in spiritual things, manipulating and lying a lot when at a lower vibration, being bullied (especially as a kid/in school), feeling lonely even when ur literally socializing or at a social function, having an astrology account, having more online friends than friend’s in person, daydreaming a lot in social settings (and in general), gaslighting ppl when at a lower vibration, being able to speak to the dead thru ur dreams, hearing ppl talking when ur half asleep, sleep walking, being sensitive to things ppl say but trying to hide it, healing ppl through ur words, hiding ur true thoughts abt someone, hiding ur true intentions, having strong emotional intelligence when at a high vibration, easily figuring out what someone’s feeling, being able to do rly good impressions

[gremlingottoosilly]

konig falls in love with his therapist and kidnaps her because he thought her compassion was her showing interest in him

how instead of breathing exorcises as a coping strategy he’s using therapist!reader as a fleshlight for a coping mechanism

You dared to say he has a problem with showing affection and committing to people in non-violent ways. He can be good at showing affection! Great, even! And he will show it to you once he is settled with the basement where he is going to keep you for the rest of your life. At least now you will have time for therapy sessions when he needs it - because you're literally going to be at his beck and call. And on his cock, too. You whimper something about him still having a chance at redemption if he just lets you go, that his coping mechanisms in the form of kidnapping people he cares about are not healthy and won't help him in the long run - but he doesn't fucking care, not when he can pepper kisses across your face and make you warm his cock with your pussy like any good specialist should. Fuck the boundaries and morality - Konig is convinced he can heal his social anxiety by banging his cute therapist. Surely, this is going to make him so much better as a human being. He is very good at breathing, exercises, and counting to ten when it involves plunging his cock deep into your warm pussy and making you milk him for all his worth. He is even better at listening to you when your words are muffled from his cock entering your mouth. If you really want to help him become a functional human being, you will have to adapt - and you will have to let him nuzzle in your chest and listen to his rambling about how much he fucking hated his parents and his old classmates. This man is a bundle of psychological curiosity, and you sort off feel like an explorer, trying to understand whatever the fuck is wrong with him. It's almost impossible to know, honestly - but you're trying to unwrap the layers of trauma settled in this man's head. While giving him head, yes. Konig keeps his pretty therapist chained to his bed and only ever lets you roam around when you're indulging in his mommy issues and domestic fantasies, creating a stable home environment that he never had as a kid. Playing his wife and a little bit of a caretaker, making sure he eats 3 meals per day, all of his snacks, and gets to fuck your pussy while you stroke his head and ask him how many people he killed on his last mission. It is fucked up - but it's a civil service in keeping this man in check.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

🤫🤔🫢🫦🧠🗣️ Your Communication Issues Based on Your Rising Sign 🤫🤔🫢🫦🧠🗣️

Disclaimer: If it don’t apply, let it fly ☺️😌

Aries Rising:

* Speaking aggressively even when calm.

* Noticeable anxiety when they speak ( voice getting louder, shaky voice, stuttering, mumbling).

* Struggle to listen as their minds are fired up.

* Changing their opinion frequently and playing devils advocate.

* Easily able to manipulate others, watch out for their convincing ways especially when they want something.

* Can come across as judgmental and can make people uncomfortable with this aspect.

Taurus Rising:

* Can be hard to know how they truly feel, they can play off just how emotional they are, closed off.

* Reserved and private, hard to get these people to open up.

* They can tell people what they want to hear, instead of choosing to be honest.

* They can retreat into their own world especially to deal with their emotions, hard to reach.

* If they feel a certain way towards someone they can be stubborn, defensive, and take things personally.

* Can hold a lot of their real feelings in.

Gemini Rising:

* Needs an audience or some form of validation to be talkative and social or they will be quiet.

* A lot of pride over their opinions and perspective.

* They can dish it, but they cannot take it.

* Can struggle to allow others to shine, they want to be the brains, beauty, and more.

* Selectively choosing to engage with those who give their ego a boost.

* Saying things just so people can like them.

* Telling lies.

Cancer Rising:

* Categorizing people into boxes before getting to know them.

* Indirect communication style. ( skimming around topics, avoiding certain conversations, not allowing anyone in, passive aggressive).

* Not being authentic in their communication, saying what they believe the other wants to hear.

* Can become detached and emotionally distant when sorting through their own issues.

* Difficulty expressing their feelings, but can be a therapist for other people.

* Criticizing the way they speak too much, over analyzing their communication.

* Can be a complainer.

Leo Rising:

* Perfectionist about your social image.

* Feeling a sense of importance amongst others that can come off as a superiority complex.

* Easily see the flaws of others, but can have a hard time being forthright and transparent about their flaws.

* Always trying to make everyone happy and feel good, but struggling with their own insecurities.

* Being superficial and caring about outward appearance too much, constant criticizing people’s appearance.

* Have a big ego and feel slighted and personally offended fast.

* Wants to be popular so will people please to fit in with the in crowd.

* Can be avoidant or disappear when issues come up.

* Can gossip about people behind their back.

Virgo Rising:

* Can be detached due to their introspective and analytical nature.

* Withdraw a lot and need a lot of time to themselves to process their experiences.

* Intensely introverted and retreats a lot into their own world.

* Going through extremes of isolated and constantly socializing and talking.

* Either dead silent or chatter box’s.

* Scrutinizing themselves too much so others feel awkward around them.

* If not scrutinizing around others, mentally doing it in a conversation and then feeling the need to be quiet.

* Psychoanalyzing and probing others but get uncomfortable when people do this to them.

* Speaking intensely.

Libra Rising:

* There is an excessive need to appear positive, bordering toxic positivity.

* Head in the clouds

* A tendency to overpromise or overextend theirselves to others.

* An issue with instilling boundaries.

* Do things just to keep the peace.

* Will run away at the sight of any issue or problems.

* Friends with people they outgrew but just keep thinking things will get better.

* Can be naive in conversations.

Scorpio Rising:

* Negative, pessimistic, cynical mindset which can often undermine their communication.

* Chronic complainers.

* Feels restricted in speaking freely. Feels they need to speak when spoken to or with people they are close to.

* Reserved and timid.

* Can have a mindset that nothing matters so can a bit dry responding to people’s issues.

* Or may take on other people’s issues as their own and act like a therapist.

* They can probe and psychoanalyze others but keep a lot of their personality and business hidden.

* Need to have control when communicating with others. Control and power dynamics are apparent in their communication.

* May feel more mature than others, so constantly feeling they have to dumb theirselves down or parent others.

* Can be grammar and pronunciation police.

* Judgmental of how people present themselves. May think everyone should be like them.

* Usually ends up trauma bonding or attracting people who vent a lot of their emotions on them.

Sagittarius Rising:

* Has big ideas that often are not yet accepted or people deem crazy, unrealistic, or wishful.

* Want others to join along their ideas, and may deal with pushback from more conservative individuals.

* Interrupts mid conversation cause they have something they have to just get out.

* Doesn’t listen well when people talk to them about things that aren’t interesting.

* Challenges others beliefs which can come off as personal attacks.

* Detached and insensitive when engrossed in a new idea, project, or interests.

* Unpredictable communication.

* Can have random outbursts or random moments where they are super happy and social.

* High energy which can be overwhelming to some. Talks a lot and then distant.

Capricorn Rising:

* Feeling restricted in communication. Wanting to express themselves freely but feeling that they have to control a lot of what they say.

* A sensitive soul with a hard exterior.

* Finding that people project a lot onto them.

* Feeling you they cant be themselves , so choosing to stay silent.

* Being deceitful or lying.

* Having to hold in a secret that weighs heavy on them.

* Needing someone to stimulate a conversation with them or else they don’t know what to say.

* Unclear on how to assert themselves. May come off passive aggressive.

* Off into their own world, withdrawn from the world.

Aquarius Rising:

* Can come across as less emotional and detached. Can say things bluntly and outright that shock or upset others.

* If someone isn’t being forthright and honest you can become irritated easily.

* Needing space to do their own thing. Can feel smothered by too much interaction.

* Unexpected communication. They might go weeks without talking to someone and then call them.

* On the other hand they can attract abrupt personalities where communication is spontaneous.

* Controversial opinions.

* Some of the ways they talk can be strange or odd.

* Females might carry a masculine theme to them that can intimidate others.

Pisces Rising:

* Withdrawn and uncommunicative.

* These people are sensitive and will retreat if they sense an issue or conflict.

* These people struggle to initiate conversation.

* Stubborn towards other people’s ideas.

* Can lie and fabricate things.

* Masters at deflecting and gaslighting.

* Can rationalize their feelings or at times make it seem their feelings are insignificant. They can also do this others.

* Rose colored glasses and can come across as delusional.

* May refuse to take any criticism.

[k4vehrtz]

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE YOUNG, YOUNG LOVERS? dom ! nanami kento / sub ! m. reader

content warnings. nsfw content / hybrid au ergo predator - prey dynamic where applicable / bunny hybrid ! nanami & reader / explicit mentions of and allusions to social anxiety / age gap (reader is 25 + nanami is 45) / satosugu cameo / self - degradation (brief, nanami) + mild degradation (r receiving) / fingering (r receiving) / spontaneous sex / ‘bunny’ & ‘little rabbit’ used as a pet name / doggystyle / ass‐to–mouth / overstimulation / heat cycles / nipple play / explicit consent / reader is shorter than nanami but there is no explicit description of a body type / virgin nanami ergo loss of virginity

word count. 3K

notes. i’ve had this bunny ! reader req in my inbox for a while and it has been on my mind so i decided to explore a couple ideas :) i’m dyslexic so any errors just give the fic personality

nanami had, over the course of his life, nurtured a particular distaste for other human beings.

he’d grown up in a city — one that never slept; a city that hummed to the tune of debauchery. busy days pre–empted busier nights. and he’d always remember two things: one, that the winters were cold, but the people there were always colder and two, he’d stuck out in a crowd.

hence, at the age of forty–five, he’d decided to leave.

“… so let me get this straight,” satoru, who’d made it his mission to mimic a koala, says as he untangles himself from suguru after having concluded that this was, in fact, a serious conversation. “you’re moving to a small town to avoid human interaction more efficiently instead of addressing your underlying social anxiety?”

satoru naturally spoke faster than the average individual, but his pace increased near the end of his sentence. nanami pretended not to notice (something he’d become exceptionally good at).

“real subtle, smart ass,” suguru hadn’t though, narrowing his eyes at his partner before turning his attention back to nanami, “i think it’s a good idea, better environment to write and all.”

writing, yes. he’d gotten in the habit during high school. it was nothing more than a hobby — something to pass the time between classes. being a loner by choice (as he’d liked to call it), he’d had a lot of time to get lost between the lines of an empty notebook. and being a creature of habit (in the self–proclaimed ‘right’ opinion of the startlingly blue–eyed man sitting across from him), he’d made a career out of it.

“i…suppose,” he responds almost nonchalantly, lacking the energy that his two closest friends possessed.

he hasn’t written since his last work — a collection of essays on how one’s perception of their surroundings is impacted by one’s perception of oneself — was published two, almost three years ago.

he’s embarrassed, a sensation that sticks to his skin uncomfortably and the silence that falls between them only exacerbates his discomfort.

“i’ll see you two, then,” he speaks up after the silence proves to be too much for him, standing to his full height in a bashful sort of way that can only be described as endearing — typical for rabbit hybrids.

the two fox hybrids, long since accustomed to the abrupt end of get–togethers, exchange their goodbyes as they stare at his retreating form with sympathetic eyes.

and nanami, instinctively observant of his surroundings to a fault, doesn’t have to turn around to know the expressions that colour their complexions. he can feel it — the eyes of predators following his every move.

he exhales slowly through his nose: once, twice, and then a third time before the intensity of his heartbeat subsides. they’re his friends, not a threat.

his stride resumes, albeit awkwardly, with full awareness of the fact that he has a problem. he’s had a problem for a long time. but running comes naturally to prey animals.

designated ‘safe spaces’ for prey animals had become the norm in recent years following a series of unfortunate events. the café you worked at was one such establishment.

“…i’m so sorry for the delay, my co–worker called in sick so i’ve been on my own and today is a lot busier than—”

nanami clears his throat, his intention crystal clear, and your ramble comes to an abrupt end.

warmth gathers beneath the surface of your cheeks as you raise your gaze to his, though he swiftly looks away, “what can i get you?”

without looking at the menu, he responds, “a croissant,” and you interject, “so you’re the croissant guy!”

he stares at you for a moment before slowly repeating after you, “the…croissant guy?” and when you smile at him, he can’t help but think that he’d need sunglasses if you were to do that again.

you apologize for the second time before continuing, “you should know by now that there aren’t that many people that live here and, between you and me, even fewer people that buy our croissants,” a distinct warmness to your tone.

nanami nods thoughtfully, responding curtly with an indifferent, “i see,” as he pays for the pastry before finding himself someplace to sit with his laptop.

it’s been a week since he’d first arrived and he considers himself familiar enough with his new surroundings. all that was left to do was to write but, as it turns out, a change of scenery only goes so far.

as he stares at the empty document on his screen, his thoughts wander back to a few minutes ago. you’re a new face — he presumes the co–worker you’d mentioned was the barista he’d met before.

but his thoughts wander so far before you appear at his side, croissant in hand, “i heard you were an author, that’s pretty cool,” and your seemingly perpetual smile curling your lips.

you mean no harm; it’s merely an attempt to be polite, making small talk is perfectly normal. but nanami isn’t normal, he feels strange, a surge of anxiety materializing seemingly from thin air.

“you heard?” he repeats after you, stumbling over his words, and he feels stupid and embarrassed.

you tilt your head to the side, your overly large ears flopping as you do so, before taking it upon yourself to sit across from him.

“isn’t it great to have places like these to ourselves?”

he raises a brow at the sudden change of topic but you continue nevertheless, “i think it’s great, ‘cause you get to meet people who understand you. there’s a book club at the library down the street this saturday, i think you should stop by if you have the time to spare,” before excusing yourself, leaving as fast as you came.

nanami lowers his eyes to the croissant, not entirely sure of what had just happened. while you stare at him from behind the counter, a complex mixture of emotions colouring your expression.

“i think you should go; it won’t hurt to get out of the house.”

satoru’s voice echoes through his laptop’s speaker and nanami falls into contemplative silence.

“besides —” suguru interjects, “you’ve been seeing that therapist, right? i bet she’d agree that this is a step in the right direction,” moving into the camera’s frame as he settles down on satoru’s lap.

they’re not wrong; he, deep down, knows that they’re not wrong, but he hesitates all the same.

“i don’t know,” he breathes out after a moment of silence, pushing the pickled vegetables around his plate with his reusable chopsticks absentmindedly.

the line of communication falls silent once more and then suguru responds, “whatever you decide to do, we support you,” before ending the call.

and nanami exhales slowly, staring at his reflection on his laptop’s screen. he’s aged (of course he has), baby fat no longer rounds his cheeks, and crow’s feet round the corners of his eyes.

but, even now, he stands out — and nanami hates standing out.

he’d stood out among his peers; other prey animals were shorter, always shorter. there was always ‘too much’ of nanami — it made him easier to spot and made his movements awkward. he never fully knew what to do with himself.

rabbit hybrids were meant to be small and cute, two things nanami wasn’t.

you, on the other hand, were the epitome of society’s expectations; smaller and sociable. at least, that’s what he’d observed over the past four days. and he doesn’t hate you for it — ‘hate’ is too strong of a word to describe how he felt.

‘envy’, however, leaves a bad taste in his mouth, it ruins his already depleted appetite, and he pushes the ceramic plate of pickled vegetables away from him when the thought crosses his labyrinthine mind.

he doesn’t envy you; that would be absurd. but, isn’t that what this world is, absurd?

‘it is’, he decides as he changes into more suitable clothing for leaving the house — abandoning his pyjamas for a white shirt tucked into the waistband of black slacks. it was plain, nanami liked plain; he liked uniformity.

but you, you again, you were anything but plain.

as he rounded the corner of the library after receiving directions from the librarian, a sweet elderly woman, your brightly coloured sweater caught his eyes first. it stood out amidst the piles of books of all different shapes, sizes, and colours that surrounded you.

his gaze flickers to the watch around his wrist, an all too familiar sensation creeping up on him. he’d come too late. but the sound of your voice drags him out of his thoughts before he can spiral any further. hell, he hadn’t even noticed when you approached him.

“you should get out of your head sometime.”

he narrows his eyes at you, not entirely because of what you’d said (though it played a role) but because of how you said it. now that you were in such proximity to one another, he can’t help but acknowledge that you look terrible.

you sound as though you’d just run a marathon, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. without thinking he presses the back of his palm against your forehead, beads of sweat dampening his skin but he doesn’t mind. you’re burning up.

“christ,” he grimaces as he gives you a once–over, adrenaline coursing through his veins as his own body begins to heat up in a similar manner.

so, this is not a regular fever, duly noted.

“i don’t consider myself a believer but each to their own,” you grin, a lopsided type that nanami swore could give him cavities. but now is not the time for that.

he clears his throat, making the conscious decision to ignore the growing strain of his cock against the fabric of his slacks, and asks carefully, “do you need a ride home?”

nanami’s studio was a blank canvas; untouched white walls, and brand–new furniture (some still encased in its plastic wrapping) in different shades of grey. even in your heat–induced haze, you could tell that this was a ‘house’, not a ‘home’.

he doesn’t comment on it though, so you keep your thoughts to yourself as he gently guides you to his designated bedroom.

the mattress sinks under the combined weight of the two of you. your chests rising and falling in sync as you stare into each other’s eyes, your oversized ears touching in a way neither of you knew could be so pleasurable until now.

“i look old enough to be your father,” he murmurs, his voice breathier the longer his body hovers over yours. and your response comes between laboured gasps, “i’m—oh shit, you’re big—twenty-five, don’t worry, i’m a big boy.”

you can feel his growing erection through the fabric of his slacks against your own. and the air between the two of you feels charged, igniting as he lowers his lips to your throat, his warm breath feeling like miniature needles against your sensitive skin, “do you or do you not want this?”

it’s the question of the hour and you nod eagerly but he pauses, holding your chin between the soft pads of his thumb and index finger as he tilts your head upwards, “i need words, bunny, think you can use your words f’me, bunny?”

your lips part, a low, open–mouthed moan cascading down your tongue before you manage to form a coherent response, “i want ‘you’, not ‘this’.”

and your choice of wording is not lost on him, he hears you loud and clear.

“i’ve never done ‘this’ before,” he blurts out, embarrassed by his lack of cleverness when compared to your confession only moments prior.

it is the truth though; something he prides himself on being to others — truthful. although it’s up for debate how forthcoming he is with himself.

he had, however, every intention of taking you back to your place wherever that may be. but as the distinct floral scent indicating the arrival of your heat enveloped the confines of his car, he had to make a decision that was for the best of both of you. driving while approaching his heat was no better than driving while intoxicated; thus, the choice was clear.

“i can teach you,” comes your response, sounding as though it took a great deal of effort to say whilst pushing yourself up into a seated position, unintentionally bumping your forehead against his in the process.

“it’s so warm,” you both groan in unison as you pull away from each other, removing all articles of clothing deemed ‘unnecessary’ which truthfully rendered you both nude.

your state of undress mattered not, though, as nanami promptly leaned to the side, rummaging in the upper drawer of his nightstand for a moment before retrieving a lubricant specifically designed for rabbit hybrids (a gift he’d received from the ocean–eyed freak) and handing it over to you.

which you happily accept, coating both your own and his fingers in a considerable amount of lubricant before leaning against the headboard and spreading your legs.

you carefully guide his palm between your legs, gently nudging the tight ring of muscle with one of his fingers.

“i haven’t done this in a — fuck fuck fuck, your fingers are thick,” you hiccup, your breath catching in your throat as you rapidly descend into a string of curses as his finger breaches your entrance. the sudden intrusion hurts, but in the midst of your heat, it’s enough to send you over the edge, your toes curling as ropes of cum erupt from the head of your cock.

and there’s that bad taste in nanami’s mouth again, clinging to his bones and invading his muddled thoughts: ‘you just have to be perfect, don’t you?’ but with it comes the realization that he’s the reason why you’re like this and it fills him with an odd sense of satisfaction.

determination renewed, and perhaps in tandem with his desire to experience such relief, he cautiously adds another thick finger whilst you come down from your high.

“is penetration all it takes to send you over the edge, little rabbit?” he questions, curling his fingers towards what he presumes is your prostate, and you can’t help but whimper.

it’s strangely degrading when you think about it; nanami, a rabbit, a prey animal like yourself taking on a dominant role. a role that isn’t in his nature thus his tone remains mild–mannered whilst his words and actions, while cautious, are the exact opposite. 

 another finger is added — the total amounting to three now. you’re stretched around three of his thick fingers as he memorizes the layout of your insides, curling his fingers in such a way that he grazes your prostate with precision.

instead of teaching him, you’re rendered speechless as he maintains a steady pace with his fingers. the sound of your gasps, moans, and whimpers creating a symphony in the otherwise silent studio.

by the time he retracts his fingers for the final time, you’ve already climaxed two more times, your cum splattered across your bare abdomen.

“you’re so easy, little rabbit,” he whispers as his lips ghost yours before fully enveloping them in a heated exchange of saliva. there’s no real heat behind his words but you shudder nevertheless.

when nanami pulls away from your lips, it’s solely because you both need air. a string of saliva, however, remains connected to both of your lips, a testament to the heated kiss.

as you both catch your breath, you take it upon yourself to reposition yourself so that you’re on all fours, gleefully presenting yourself to nanami who obliges you.

your thighs tremble in silent anticipation of what’s to come, your loosened ring of muscle winking invitingly. but it’s not his cock — no, when the wet muscle breaches your entrance you squeal, almost losing your balance had nanami’s hands not been on your hips.

it’s a strange sensation — his tongue in your ass, his warm breath wafting across your most sensitive region. but you slowly adjust as he ravages you, lapping at your puckered entrance as you subconsciously clench and unclench.

and in a matter of minutes, you’re climaxing once more, the muscles in your pelvis twitching convulsively as your erect cock spurts ropes of cum onto the sheet beneath you. 

nanami pulls away from your ass with a ‘pop’, aligning himself with your entrance before easing into you and savouring every spasm of your gummy walls. he doesn’t move until he’s buried to the hilt, angling his hips as he thrusts into you with a steady pace, his balls colliding with your sensitive skin.

you’re overwhelmed by a sense of euphoria, having experienced multiple orgasms. so much so that salty tears roll down your cheeks as you feel nanami throb inside of you, the angry tip of his cock bullying your prostate relentlessly.

he truly is brutal, desperately chasing his high as one of his hands wanders up to your chest, taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger and teasing it.

nanami’s thoroughly bullying you but you can’t even protest, ‘uh–uh–uhs’ tumble past your lips in rapid succession along with the overwhelming urge to please him rearing its head.

thus, you endure his assault on your body until you fall limp on his mattress in a puddle of your cum as his leaks out of your entrance, some cascading down your inner thighs.

you’re still asleep when nanami wakes up the next morning, golden rays filtering into his apartment through the blinds. and he takes it upon himself to wipe your unconscious body with a damp towel from head to toe before taking a shower and heading into the kitchen.

a sense of dread settles in the pit of his stomach as he ponders the various directions the conversation the two of you are bound to have may go. but with it comes a new perspective.

[mariespen]

Birthday Reunion ¡! ❞

bf!rafe cameron x daddy issues!reader ¡! ❞ warnings: swearing, drinking, implied drinking problems, implied body shaming, mentions of anxiety, degrading comments summary: “What did I do to deserve you..”

based on this request!

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Your light pink heels tapped down the long staircase of Tannyhill, the curved architecture giving you the perfect princess moment. The only difference was that instead of a ballroom of people at the bottom, it was simply your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron. It didn’t matter, though. People would have thought you were real royalty just by the way his jaw hung when he saw you in the pretty dress he picked out just for your birthday present. It swished around your thighs, bringing his favorite parts of your body to focus… maybe too far into focus.

Your soft giggle broke him out of his star-struck trance. You couldn’t help it, he looked so cute in his formalwear for your birthday dinner. Just as your heels touched down on the ground, Rafe swept you up into his loving embrace.

“Looking fuckin’ amazing, hm?” He said with a grin, love coating his gaze as he looked down at you. All you could do was giggle. 

You poor thing, he always left you speechless.

Rafe’s face softened. Any form of laughter that left your sweet, glossy lips was music to his ears. You kept him close to him for a while and he let you, of course. Tonight was supposed to be fun, a care-free date between you and Rafe. However, it was your mother’s genius idea to bring the family together and celebrate your special day, all together. A family reunion on your birthday.. why did Rafe let you agree to this?

“Gotta cover up..” He muttered, busying himself with your cardigan and handing you one of his bigger zip-ups.

“Thank you..” You said gently, letting him help you drape it over your shoulders to keep you warm.

“Mhm.. you ready princess?” Rafe asked cautiously, still prepared to call you in sick from this whole thing.

“Yeah..” You said, a small frown on your face as you wrapped yourself closer into his sweater.

“Okay, let’s go, yeah?” He said, obviously disappointed that you were so insistent on this, somehow still supporting you.

Rafe knew how these things played out. He could predict it now, keeping you close as the two of you tried to socialize awkwardly with your family and then eventually your father showed up. Usually it was late, most of the time he was already a little drunk, and there was a 100% chance that he was not going to leave the reunion sober by any means. That’s the basic routine besides the fact that in-between downing every drink on the table, your precious daddy would degrade you until you ended up right back in Rafe’s arms.

Right back where you’ve always belonged.

The car ride was silent besides your girlie music and the soft sound of Rafe’s hand occasionally brushing against your dress when he rubbed your thigh comfortingly.

You had a tendency to react poorly in anxious situations, he knew this for a fact. Rafe planned on keeping you very very close tonight.

Pulling up the prolonged driveway of your mother’s expensive house on figure 8 made you want to throw up. She moved from your old house into this atrocity of a mansion, so at least there weren't any prominent reminders of your lonely childhood. It comforted you enough to take Rafe’s hand and let yourself out of the car. 

The two of you winced as you walked up to the door. Neither of you really wanted to be there all that much, Rafe arguably hated it even more than you (which was impressive).

He reached over your head to knock on the door. Five hard knocks that echoed through the soft music playing within the house. Your eyes darted around the cars, thankful to not see your father there yet. Maybe he forgot, he could be so drunk off his ass that he forgot about you.

For the better, probably.

Your mom eagerly opened the door, instantly wrapping both you and Rafe in a tipsy yet somehow still loving hug. Rafe greeted her with a hesitant smile as you slowly worked up the motivation to plaster on your own faux smile for the rest of the night.

Then began the awkward greetings. Your aunt and uncle instantly greeted you, your aunt marvling at Rafe for maybe a second too long. He smiled kindly at them. Rafe had always been better at putting on a nice show. You were thrown around the room, embraced in many of your family’s drunken arms and sluggish greetings. Somehow, even through all of the commotion, Rafe’s gentle hand remained on your back.

Hours passed and you felt a gasp of relief leave you as you realized the reunion was nearly over and your father had yet to make a show. You stood near the front door with Rafe over your shoulder, giddy to leave the moment that the clock struck 9pm. 

You felt his hand come down to your waist and clutch you closer to him, causing you to flinch slightly in surprise. Your heart stopped, realizing quickly why his grip was so prominent on your side. 

Dragging himself into the house through the long, arched doorway was no one but your own father. His drunken gaze skimmed over the crowd before instantly dropping on you. One quick and judgmental up and down look comprised his purpose; to make your life hell.

His suit was too tight on his body as he breathed sharply and made his way over to both you and Rafe. You avoided Rafe’s gaze entirely, not wanting to witness the narrow stare of his eyes.

“Dad!” You said softly, beginning to pull away from Rafe until he pulled you right back to him. Your fake smile must have been obvious because all you got from your father was a scoff and a judgmental glance before he stumbled into the party.

Rafe was already urging you out of the door by the time your mother came to tell you that it was time for cake, “your favorite!” She said with a squeal, motioning to a chocolate ice cream cake. 

Which wasn’t your favorite, but you’ve learned not to care. 

You got ushered to the large dining room, Rafe shuffling behind you and looking ready to kill anyone who took one step too close to your shaking body. All of your family surrounded the table, leaving barely enough room for you to fit in next to your fast-melting cake

A short and unorganized rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ was sung by the slurred voices of your family as you stood quietly, shyly smiling and feeling Rafe’s comforting hand holding yours. More cake was brought out to provide for all of the guests as your mother happily laughed with drunken joy.

Your piece was brought to you, a smaller slice than most. As you leaned down to grab your fork, you felt the plate leave your weak grip. Standing up in an instant, you were ready to pout at Rafe and tell him to get his own slice. However, you were met by your father’s mean and unforgiving stare.

“You don’t need… this.” He said plainly, obviously scanning your outfit and figure.

Tears swarmed your eyes as he spat more at you. Over time you had learned to tune him out, but you hadn’t heard his words for months now, nearly a year. 

“It’s disgusting that you walk into your mother’s house looking like a slut.” He said with a scoff, either unaware of the tears dripping down your face or choosing to ignore them (it was the latter).

“Thank god you have a boyfriend, hopefully he keeps you in your place.” Your father sneered as you vaguely watched Rafe push through the crowd to get back to you after he was pushed away in the cake swarm.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Your stare was blank when Rafe finally got to you, shoving your father away without hesitation and taking your purse from your slouching arm as he pulled you away from everyone. Rafe’s grip on your body was persistent as he took you through the house, through the front door, and eventually through his car door. You were still trying to tune out everything that had happened, proving to be non-responsive when Rafe begged you to answer his questions.

“C’mon princess, tell me what he said.” Rafe said through gritted teeth as one hand gripped his steering wheel with white knuckles and the other softly brushed over your palm.

The world was silent, your eyes deep and dull and you stared down at your pink heels when Rafe took you into Tannyhill.

“Hey, baby.. talk to me.” Rafe said gently, his thumbs already flicking away your tears as the two of you sat on the luxurious couch. His pleading voice eventually got back into your head and you nodded softly.

“Oh sweetheart..” Rafe whispered, starting to say something else before you let yourself fall back into him and bury yourself into his warm body. You hid away from the spiraling world as he whispered into your ear.

“I got you, princess. I’m here.” “Want you to only listen to my voice, don’t let him stay in your head.”

“I love you, sweetheart.” His lips peppered two soft kisses against both of your rosy, swollen cheeks before more tears poured out of your eyes. You were slowly coming back to yourself and Rafe couldn’t fully tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Your body came to you in small tremors, your poor shoulders shaking as your sweet and honey-like voice rasped over with deep sobs. Rafe held you close, whispering gently into your ear for a while, eventually feeling you relax into his arms.

“I’m sorry I… I just-“ You started, trying to apologize for your sudden outburst.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Focus on me.” Rafe said, kissing you softly and smiling as he felt your sticky lip gloss smear against his lips.

You smiled back, suddenly focused on the way he looked down at you, opening his mouth to tell you more.

“Aw look at that..” He said, kissing your smile and grinning into the gentle contact before pulling away.

“What did I do to deserve you..” He whispered with adoration in his eyes as he scooped you right back up and held you to his chest.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

[mrzombielover]

— könig relationship headcanons

rating; sfw and nsfw

warnings: nsfw, virginity, this is just filthy and not really edited and a spew of random disconnected thoughts

a/n; oh my actual god tysm for 1k+ likes on my ghost drabble i did NOT expect any attention so thank you😭

to get in a relationship with this guy you def had to make the first move, he’s too shy to do anything

(i’ll prob make separate headcanons w him pining over you tbh)

but once you ARE in a relationship? man

his severe social anxiety manifests in a way that just makes him really awkward. like🧍

clingiest boyfriend alive, mf like 6’10 250 lbs clinging to your arm when u go in public and asking you to order for him

doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re not there. you leave and he just waits for you to come back.

he just loves you so much, he’s not stupid by all means but you’re the one that thinks for him and he’s happy w that arrangement

likes when you refer to him as big guy or esp YOUR big guy bc yes. he is a big guy. thanks for noticing :)

while he couldn’t be a sniper bc of his size, there are some perks to his height. namely scaring the ever loving fuck out of any guy he may be jealous of

he’s not vocal and much too shy to really do anything but he will stand over your shoulder vaguely threateningly glaring at the guy.

he’s incredibly easy to fluster, part of the reason he likes wearing a mask is because you won’t be able to see how easy it is to make him blush

this is heightened in public places, because of his shy nature any type of pda drives him crazy and he gets wound up very quickly

gently touch his arm or chest when talking to him, put a hand on his shoulder or thigh when laughing, get his attention touching the back of his neck, literally any of the tamest touch will have his face and ears all hot and red.

not just touching him, either, just existing as hot as you are in his presence makes him stiff.

doesn’t talk a lot in general, and i don’t think that changes in bed. he’s a quiet person, so treasure the groans you do get to hear

down so horrendous

everyone knows the quiet guys are the hung ones

and man is he PACKIN

i hope you have a size kink because everything about him is huge, from his stature to his muscles to his cock

i’m thinking upwards of 8 inches, insanely thick and a deep reddish color, tip color #b3505e

due to his anxiety and quiet nature, he has had extremely little experience with relationships and sex. he was bullied in school, and i can’t imagine him having a lot of practice before meeting you

my little meow meow so easily flustered and blushing bright red the whole time

his thoughts are probably “oh my god oh fuck wow holy oh my god oh my god” and he can’t form any real sentences or coherent thoughts

probably busts prematurely and then he’s so embarrassed, would freak out about it until you calm him down and tell him it’s okay

then he’d make it up to you

what he’s lacking in experience he makes up for with eagerness, he’s a fast learner and attentive to detail

gives AMAZING head. once he learns how you like it it’s over for you. has his head buried between your thighs for hours, and his tongue in combination with thick fingers splitting you open will have your legs shaking and you crying

if you ever don’t want to sit on his face for fear of hurting him or hover above instead of putting your weight on him he looks at you like >:((

leans towards the submissive side, will do anything you want him to do and is down to experiment

when it comes to what HE wants tho… he is much too shy to ask to try stuff out it takes a lot of courage u might need to infer some things

enjoys being submissive the majority of the time but there are times when he gets so wound up and desperate he’ll just take you how he wants (lord have mercy…)

in these situations i imagine it’s probably been a bit since you’ve last had the chance to be… intimate. naturally you take it upon yourself to tease him whenever given the chance, trying your hardest to make him blush

he also has an extremely high sex drive, he’s an absolute beast of a man and can go for 2-3 rounds without break. just crazy amounts of stamina and strength. this in combination with you teasing him means you’re really in for it the second you have some alone time

no matter how much you weigh he could pick you up and handle you like a rag doll. he is HUGE and insanely strong as previously mentioned

in conclusion just big and strong and very much loving and protective in his own weird 🧍 way

**these will be elaborated on soon trust i plan on doing nsfw alphabets for the whole task force + my boy

masterlist

[collapsedsquid]

The Darién Gap was thought for centuries to be all but impassable. Explorers and would-be colonizers who entered tended to die of hunger or thirst, be attacked by animals, drown in fast-rising rivers, or simply get lost and never emerge. Those dangers remain, but in recent years the jungle has become a superhighway for people hoping to reach the United States. According to the United Nations, more than 800,000 may cross the Darién Gap this year—a more than 50 percent increase over last year’s previously unimaginable number. Children under 5 are the fastest-growing group. The U.S. has spent years trying to discourage this migration, pressuring its Latin American neighbors to close off established routes and deny visas to foreigners trying to fly into countries close to the U.S. border. Instead of stopping migrants from coming, this approach has simply rerouted them through the jungle, and shifted the management of their passage onto criminal organizations, which have eagerly taken advantage. The Gulf Clan, which now calls itself Ejército Gaitanista de Colombia, effectively controls this part of northern Colombia. It has long moved drugs and weapons through the Darién Gap; now it moves people too. Everyone who works in the Darién Gap must be approved by the cartel and hand over a portion of their earnings. They have built stairs into hillsides and outfitted cliffs with ladders and camps with Wi‑Fi. They advertise it all on TikTok and YouTube, and anyone can book a journey online. There are many paths through. The most grueling route is the cheapest—right now, about $300 a person to cross the jungle on foot. Taking a boat up the coast can cost more than $1,000.

[...] Guides and porters follow the migrants in the jungle with their iPhones rolling, asking, “Do you feel good?” and “Have we treated you well?” They film incessantly during the first day of walking, when people are still able to conjure a smile. (Even I ended up in one of their videos.) They post the videos on social media, selling trips across the jungle as if they were joyful nature walks. The profit motives of the cartel have become yet another factor fueling migration. [...] The porters we had paid to continue on with us told us to stay close together because bandits were thought to be intimidated by large groups. Later, we learned that was false—they were in fact targeting large groups, perhaps because it was more efficient than robbing a handful of people at a time. Our anxiety grew when we passed a couple of abandoned backpacks. We pushed through thicker and thicker brush until I realized there was no longer any sign of a path. One porter accused another of leading us astray. They started arguing, until a third hissed, “No yelling!” We turned around, but a bottleneck formed in front of a fallen tree trunk. One of the porters shouted for us to hurry: “Grab the kids and go!” [...] Most of the migrants I met in the processing line told me they’d been robbed by bandits at a checkpoint within a day’s walk of the community. The women said they’d been groped; some said they’d been digitally penetrated under the guise of a search for hidden cash. Panamanian border officers standing nearby showed no interest in investigating. Indigenous leaders say they have asked the government for help addressing crime against migrants, but the situation seems to be getting worse. In February, Doctors Without Borders published a report on sexual violence against migrants in the Darién Gap, showing a frequency more typical of war zones. Soon after, the government kicked the organization out of the area.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

I Can See You (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem! reader

song prompt: I Can See You (From the Vault) - Taylor Swift

warnings/content: mutual pining, Hotch being a gentleman, making out.

word count: 1571

And I could see you up against the wall with me, and what would you do, baby, if you only knew? Oh, oh, oh, that I could see you throw your jacket on the floor, I could see you make me want you even more

You sipped your drink as your eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. You dreaded social events, especially ones where you hardly knew anyone by name, let alone anyone you knew comfortably enough to talk to at length. These work galas were nothing short of awkward and you were thankful they only happened a handful of times a year, but even that was too often. You specifically took up an admin position with the FBI to avoid the social interactions with others regularly - you just weren’t a *people* person. As you continued to sip your cocktail, praying for the fire alarm to ring through the hotel ballroom as the perfect escape for you, you heard a deep voice say your name. You spun around on your heel to see Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief for the Behavioural Analysis Unit standing before you, a warm, friendly smile on his face.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here!” You grinned, trying to mask the social anxiety you were feeling, especially when faced with a man you had feelings for. 

Aaron laughed softly, holding his whiskey glass firmly in his large hand. His fingers wrapped around the glass, making it look as though it was meant for a doll rather than an average sized high-ball glass. He rarely smiled, let alone laughed, so the fact that you were able to accomplish even the slightest snicker out of him was a feat to be admired.

“I don’t normally come to these things,” he nodded his head, “I was told I had to attend this one though for some reason.”

Aaron’s dark brown eyes watched the others as they mingled, creating small talk with colleagues and avoiding the dance floor like the plague. He shook his head, laughing. 

“Why did they think a group of FBI agents would want to dance?” He said discreetly to you.

You laughed at his comment and shrugged your shoulders, “You know, I was wondering the same thing.”

Aaron turned towards you, a warm smile on his lips. You were used to the odd friendly glance from him in passing, but a genuine smile was rare. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lit up when he smiled, his whole face appearing completely different from the normally reserved, stoic man everyone knew him as. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of golden brown you’d ever seen, with honey and hazel coloured flecks in the irises. His dark hair had the faintest hint of gray to it, which made him even more attractive, if that was possible. He wore his hair cropped fairly short, with his bangs gelled up slightly, the way he always wore it. In fact, he didn’t really dress any differently from how he usually did at work with his suit and tie, except instead of his usual red or blue tie, he opted for classic black, with a black suit and pure white pressed dress shirt underneath. Aaron was at least 25 years older than you, but that didn’t change anything about the crush you’d developed on him over the past year. If anything, his maturity made him *more* attractive to you. 

“I could use some air,” you nodded, a soft smile forming on your face as you spoke to Aaron.

“Mind if I join you? I could use some fresh air too.”

You nodded your head and followed behind Aaron as you walked outside into the cool October air. The two of you walked further down the pathway into a garden area, further away from the party that was taking place inside. You could feel a shiver down your spine as you walked, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the sheer nervousness from being alone with Aaron. You bit your lip as you looked up, admiring the stars and the peacefulness of being outside, and you didn’t notice Aaron’s eyes on you at first. He watched your features closely, as if he was studying them carefully, trying to memorize them. Aaron sighed happily as he looked up at the sky, watching whatever it was you were staring at.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Aaron said, breaking the silence between you.

“Go for it,” you laughed softly, nodding your head. You couldn’t help but wonder what Aaron could possibly want to ask you.

“You always seem to come to these events alone,” he nodded, his profiling skills coming into play, “are these events just, not your partner’s thing?” He asked. 

“I don’t have a partner to bring with me,” You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I sort of wish I didn’t have to attend these things alone though, at least then I’d have someone to talk to for the evening.”

“Well…you can always come find me,” Aaron nodded. “I get the sense I’ll be attending these more frequently now.”

Your eyes met with Aaron’s, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip slightly as your gazes crossed paths. He gave you another rare smile, before shaking his head.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who makes me as nervous as you do. I’ve never had an issue talking to women before,” Aaron let out an awkward laugh.

You almost couldn’t believe what he had just said, you had half a mind to ask him to repeat himself. Aaron Hotchner was one of the most intimidatingly handsome men you’d ever met, and here he was, telling you that you made him nervous. You raised an eyebrow at him, speechless, and hoping he would elaborate further. 

“You know, I’ve thought you were beautiful since the day I first saw you,” Aaron nodded, his cheeks flushing to a soft pink colour. 

You couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly as Aaron complimented you, and for a moment, you swore he almost had a look of defeat on his face. You shook your head and smiled at him.

“You know, I’ve had a crush on you since the day I first saw you,” you replied.

Aaron took a step closer to you, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. You could feel your heart racing as his hands rested on your hips. You’d had the odd daydream about this happening to you before - you’d often daydreamed about Aaron, but rarely of him in a romantic light, normally your daydreams consisted of Aaron inviting you into his office for a “meeting”. The sweet, soft kiss he was giving you now was a welcome surprise. 

“Aaron,” you said softly as he pulled away, “you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.” 

“Oh? Funny, I could say the same to you,” he grinned. 

“Do it again,” you challenged. 

As if on command, Aaron kissed you again, this time with passion and excitement behind it. You felt like a teenager having their first romantic experience - almost giddy with excitement as his tongue slid across your bottom lip gently. You had to admit, kissing Aaron was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. You couldn’t tell if it was the passion he had, the experience of his, or the fact that you’d longed for this moment, but Aaron was unmatched in terms of passion. You felt Aaron press his body against yours, your back gently pressing against the wall behind you. He gently caressed your sides, his hands running up and down on your waist and hips slowly, in almost a teasing fashion. 

Aaron pulled his lips apart from yours slightly, shrugging his suit jacket back off his shoulders in one quick motion. He tossed his jacket to the ground as his lips met yours again as if magnetized to one another. He put one hand into your long curled hair, perfectly styled for the event, although at this point, you couldn’t care less about how your hair looked. Aaron’s fingers gently tugged on your hair, pulling you in as close to him as physically possible. You could smell his Bleu de Chanel on him, the notes of his cologne giving you a rush as you realized just how close your bodies were to one another. The typically reserved, serious Aaron was a completely different person as he kissed you - he was passionate, romantic, intimate, and it only made you crave him more. You craved his touch, the taste of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his voice, the feel of his gaze on you. You didn’t just want Aaron, you needed him, at this point. 

As you heard the sound of voices calling Aaron’s name, you realized that some of the other guests had set out to look for him, wondering where he had disappeared to, as he was about to be called for an award of some sort. Aaron pulled his lips away agonizingly slow. He whispered softly to you and smiled. 

“We can continue this once I’m no longer needed inside,” his voice was almost seductive as he spoke. 

Aaron bent down to pick up his jacket, then straightened his clothes out before laughing softly. You noticed a smear of nude lipstick across his mouth and grinned. 

“Aaron, you know, that isn’t really your shade,” you laughed as you licked the tip of your thumb and wiped it off quickly. 

Aaron smirked at you before whispering again.

“Maybe we should test it out again, it might look better in the lighting at my apartment.” 

[transmutationisms]

(bc i saw ur post abt chatgpt and ppl thinking it kills ur brain or wtvr) what do you think abt similar claims for tiktok?

yea my response to any such claim about a 'weakening' of the intellectual faculties due to [social or cultural factor or change] is basically always the same, namely: that is blatantly eugenic logic, it's ahistorical, it's moral anxiety invoking biological terminology to justify reactionary political diagnosis and prognosis, &c &c. wrt social media in particular i also see a lot of appeals to crass evolutionism (as in, "humans weren't evolved for this form of stimulus" and other such), which is also very poor reasoning on multiple counts (essentialist, appeals to a vaguely-defined state of nature, the perceived technology–nature antinomy, &c). i dislike a lot of social media because of the ways it's frequently designed to promote profit-generating conflict; the outsourcing of necessary moderator functions to predominantly impoverished and global south workers who are underpaid and frequently traumatised by this very work; the wilful refusal to grapple with the colonial and imperial resource extraction committed to build and maintain the physical technology upon which 'cyberspace' depends; &c. but i'm so turned off by 'critique' of tiktok and other social media that fails to grapple with these and related issues and turns instead to reactionary ideas about mental degeneration 'loss of critical thinking' or however we're phrasing it now

[winxanity-ii]

IT'S ME, MARIO!

ship: itadori x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 1.7k a/n: idc idc idc, yuji would definetly make a fool of himself if he knew you were nervous

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Since living on campus, you'd adjusted to being on your own. It had been… interesting, to say the least.

Moving from the comfort of your hometown, where you knew everyone and everyone knew you, to a sprawling university was like stepping into another world.

But you'd managed. Slowly but surely, you'd found your rhythm.

You'd been pushing yourself to attend those countless events and programs that the campus threw at you, dipping your toes into the waters of socializing at your own pace.

Sometimes, it was easier to just be a face in the crowd, observing from the sidelines, taking mental notes of how people interacted, what made them tick.

You'd practiced small talk like it was an art form—commenting on the weather, complimenting someone’s shirt, asking what their major was—and for the most part, you'd gotten better at it.

It was a slow process, but you were learning to navigate the chaotic dance of college life.

Currently, you were sitting in your honors open communication class, trying to remember how to breathe without making it seem like you were hyperventilating.

The classroom, with its cozy size of about ten people, should have felt intimate, manageable. But instead, it felt like a pressure cooker. Every word, every glance, every single goddamn breath felt magnified.

You were staring blankly at the front of the room as your classmate, Akane, wrapped up her presentation on how to cook a traditional Japanese breakfast: tamagoyaki, miso soup, grilled fish, rice, and even a beautiful spread of pickled vegetables.

It sounded extravagant, yet she made it look so simple.

Probably because she didn't have to wrestle with the invisible, clawing beast of anxiety like you did every time you so much as thought about public speaking.

Your palms were sweaty, knees weak—okay, maybe not that dramatic, but still. You were jittery and nervous, your pulse a steady drum in your ears because you were up next. And Akane, bless her, was finishing up with a flourish, her smile bright and confident.

You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighten. Itadori Yuji, sitting right next to you, leaned over slightly, his shoulder brushing yours, and whispered, "Hey, you okay?"

You managed a stiff nod, mumbling out a barely audible, "Yeah." But you didn’t dare look at him, because you knew the concern in his eyes would undo you. Instead, you stared hard at the scratched-up desk in front of you, willing yourself not to freak out.

Yuji knew about your anxiety. You'd confided in him more than once, spilling the mess of thoughts that spiraled in your head before you had to speak in front of people.

How your heart raced, your mouth went dry, your hands shook. How no matter how much you prepared, how many times you practiced, your body still froze up.

It was like your brain and body were in this weird, dysfunctional relationship where neither of them wanted to cooperate.

"L/N-chan?" Your professor, Nitta Akari, said your name with that polite, expectant tone that sent another jolt of panic through you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could make any sound that resembled a response, Yuji spoke up.

"Sorry, teach, but is it alright if I go first? I'm a little shy…" His voice was as smooth and casual as ever, and you turned to look at him, utterly confused.

What the hell?

Nitta-sensei blinked but nodded, clearly caught off guard. "Uh, sure, Itadori-kun. Go ahead."

Yuji stood, giving you a quick wink as he made his way to the front of the room. You were still processing what just happened when he started speaking, but instead of launching into the well-thought-out paper on global warming you helped him prepare, he began with: "Mario, the Idea vs. Mario, the Man."

You blinked. Once. Twice.

What the fuck?

"Everyone knows Mario is cool as fuck. But who knows what he’s thinking? Who knows why he crushes turtles? And why do we think about him as fondly as we think of the mythical (nonexistent?) Dr. Pepper? Perchance…"  

You couldn't even react properly because he was already going off, delivering the opening lines with this bizarre mixture of enthusiasm and conviction, as if he was genuinely pondering the existential meaning of a pixelated plumber's life.

Everyone in the room, including Nitta-sensei, was staring at him with varying degrees of confusion.

There was a couple of snickers, and you saw one of your classmates, Yuki, already recording this on her phone, probably for TikTok.

Yuji, however, was undeterred, fully committing to the bit as he paced slightly, gesturing with his hands like he was giving a TED Talk. "Why does he crush turtles? Is it because he's saving the princess? Or is it because he's trying to save himself from his own internal void? Is it about the princess or the chase?"

You were sitting there, mouth slightly agape, because this was not what you spent hours helping him research. You'd spent countless nights, coffee-fueled and sleep-deprived, going over statistics and climate change projections, not pondering Mario’s deep-seated motivations for stomping on Goombas.

"And those mushrooms. Seriously, who decided that eating weird fungi would make you bigger? What kind of metaphorical bullshit is that? Some kind of growth narrative, maybe? Mario, the eternal underdog—"

"—Itadori-kun," Nitta-sensei interrupted, her voice carrying that unmistakable tone of an adult who's trying very hard to stay patient. Her eyebrow was twitching ever so slightly, and you could almost hear her internal scream as she tried to make sense of whatever the hell Yuji was talking about. "What point are you trying to make with this?"

Yuji blinked, completely unbothered, like he'd only just noticed he'd wandered off into another dimension of thought. "I dunno, but I think…" he trailed off, his eyes flickering around the room like he was looking for the answer somewhere in the air.

It was almost endearing, the way he tilted his head like a confused puppy, his lips pursed as if deep in thought.

There was a pregnant pause, the kind that stretched on just long enough to become uncomfortable. Nitta-sensei exhaled, the sound barely restrained, and she muttered his name again, "Itadori-kun." There was a warning there, a gentle push for him to get back on track, but you could tell her patience was wearing thin.

And in that moment, something in you snapped, like a rubber band stretched too far.

You knew you should let him flounder in his awkwardness, let him take the hit because, well, he put himself in this situation. But instead, you heard yourself saying, "I think Itadori-kun is trying to say that Mario isn't just a game character. He's a symbol of all the pointless shit we chase in life, only to find out the reward wasn't even in the castle—it was in the journey..." The words tumbled out in a rush, your voice wobbling slightly, and you felt the eyes of the entire class on you.

There was a beat of silence, then another, before Yuji broke into a grin, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Yup! That's what I was trying to say!" He clapped his hands together, looking almost proud, and you couldn't help but feel a little heat rise to your cheeks.

How does he make everything sound so simple, so obvious?

Nitta-sensei just sighed, rubbing her forehead like she was trying to ward off a headache. She looked at Yuji, then at you, then back at Yuji, her expression caught between exasperation and something almost like amusement. "Alright, thank you, Itadori-kun," she said finally, her voice dry. "For that… unique interpretation."

She waved a hand, clearly done with the whole ordeal. You could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, like she was trying not to laugh, and it made you feel a tiny bit better.

At least she wasn't mad.

Just as she opened her mouth again, probably to call your name, the bell rang, loud and obnoxious and utterly glorious. You nearly sagged in relief, your muscles unwinding all at once.

The class collectively began to shuffle, packing up their things with the sluggish enthusiasm of students who had made it through yet another class.

Nitta-sensei sighed again, louder this time, and you almost felt bad for her. "Those of you who didn't present today will need to submit a recording since we spent too much time on…" She gestured vaguely at Yuji, who grinned sheepishly, "…this."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relief flooding through you as you started packing up your things, all the tension and worry melting away like snow in the spring sun.

You glanced at Yuji, who was already waiting for you by the door, his bag slung over one shoulder, looking like he'd just casually won the lottery.

As you walked over, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "What the hell was that, Yuji? Why didn't you read the presentation we practiced?"

He shrugged, giving you a lopsided grin. "I saw you were nervous, and I figured if I made a fool of myself first, maybe you wouldn't be so worried. You know, like, break the ice or something."

Your heart gave a little flip at that, and you couldn’t help the small, soft smile that tugged at your lips. He'd always been like this since you met him—considerate in his own goofy, unpredictable way. "Thank you, Yuji..." you murmured, feeling your face heat up a bit, the corners of your mouth curling up despite yourself. "Seriously, that was… really sweet."

Yuji beamed at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No problem! I like being there for you, you'd do the same for me."

You giggled, the tension easing out of your shoulders as you nodded. "Alright, how about I buy you lunch at The Den to fully show my appreciation. Deal?"

"Deal!" He practically bounced on his feet, his energy infectious, as he reached out and took your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours in a warm, comfortable grip.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but his touch was gentle and familiar, and you found yourself relaxing, your hand fitting perfectly in his.

"Come on, I'm craving those teriyaki burgers!" he said, already pulling you into the hallway, the two of you blending into the sea of students rushing off to their next classes.

You couldn't help but shake your head, a fond smile playing on your lips as you let him drag you along, your heart feeling a little lighter, your worries a little less daunting.

Maybe public speaking wasn't your thing, but having someone like Yuji by your side, you figured you'll be just fine.

A/N: hahaha i just couldn't help myself after seeing this meme going around online...

[hana-bobo-finch]

Assorted pikmin headcanons that I might end up deleting bc I definitely haven’t already posted enough today

• Most Hocotatians can’t grow facial hair. Those who can are greatly envied (even if it’s just a few scraggly hairs like the president)

• Hocotate is mostly desert. Because of this, hocotatians generally don’t need as much water as others.

• Yonny is. Extremely in love with dingo. But he still tries to be a good wingman when dingo’s trying to talk to shepherd cause even if he’s insane he’s a good friend

• Louie tries to zone out when olimar’s telling him “stories” (which are more just olimar’s train of thought) but ends up subconsciously retaining it all. He remembers more about olimar than olimar himself.

• Collin actually has social anxiety despite being the comms guy, ironically the only way he’s found that he can calm himself is to never stop talking. So he yaps. A lot.

• Yonny’s tried to tell dingo before that his disliking of dogs probably stems from some form of ptsd from the time he thought he was being attacked during a rescue. Dingo just bragged about it because he thought having trauma made him sound more “badass.” It did not. He was very confused when he got sympathy and not admiration.

• Olimar gets frustrated with Louie very easily, but keeps it hidden because Louie gets chastised by the other employees and the president a lot and olimar wants to be the one to help him instead of just yelling at him.

• Hocotate freight, despite being tasked with large shipping jobs, is a rather small company with barely any employees. There’s pretty much no experience needed other than a basic pilot’s license to get a job there because the president is so desperate for workers

• Louie doesn’t even have a pilot license. He only managed to get hired because his nana convinced the president to hire him because of his family’s lineage of renowned pilots.

• His nana didn’t even ask Louie before getting him hired. He was looking to get a fry cook job at a restaurant nearby to save up for culinary school. He just went with it because he didn’t want to disappoint her

• Collin is aroace. He doesn’t know it, he just thinks he’s “too busy” for sex and romance (am I just saying that bc I’m projecting onto him nooooo I would neeever do that)

• Koppaites generally age physically slower than most. Giyans? What’s it called uhh. People from giya tend to physically age faster. They both have roughly the same life expectancy, though

• it’s a common practice on most civilized planets for the people to dye their hair, as they all share the trait of usually greying quickly. Only hocotatians don’t do this, as they over time have developed hair that retains its color longer—although they have less of it

• Louie hates space travel. He gets motion sickness easily. Olimar, on the other hand, loves it, and likes to do tricks with his ship when flying like spinning around. Somehow that’s never been the cause of a crash, the worst that’s happened was just louie feeling sick

• dingo has low iron levels. I have nothing more to add it is just definitely true

• whenever Louie’s on pnf-404 by himself, he survives the creatures by just ignoring them. Turns out a lot of them aren’t inherently violent or have a taste for hocotatian. The ones that do attack can be defeated easily by giving them poisonous plants

• Many of the planets are more of dwarf planets, if even that. Only hocotate, koppai, Giya, and pnf 404 are larger. Most of them are tiny and in the same solar system, making them almost more akin to different countries or continents than entirely different planets

that is all for my yapping goodbye

[doodlegirl1998]

What do you think when people say that shoya (from a silent voice) and bakugo are pretty similar because I genuinely hate when people say that and I don't think that they are similar but for some reason I don't know how to articulate that

Hi @bibibbon 👋,

I genuinely hate it when people compare Shoya and Bakugou as well. I'll tell you why I dislike this comparison, so I hope this helps you articulate your own thoughts on this.

The only way I feel they are similar is that in their respective narratives, they are both "redeemed bullies." However, Silent Voice does Shoya's redemption well, MHA does Bakugou's poorly.

Silent Voice has Shoya experience conscequence for him leading the bullying and discrimination of Shouko for her deafness, becoming the victim of bullying himself ironically for his role (and everyone else pinning the sole blame on him) of bullying Shouko.

Shoya experiences his own mental health challenges (Depression, social anxiety , and brief suicidal ideation) as a result, loses his old friends, and goes through the effort of learning sign language and reconnects with Shouko.

Shoya also has people (Shouko's sister and mother) who are genuinely and rightfully wary or downright hateful of him for the majority of the story (and rightfully so.)

An aside - Shoya is shown to love and care for his mother. He is deeply guilty for putting his mother in financial trouble by breaking Shouko's hearing aids. He earns money, and one of the beginning scenes of the movie of a Silent Voice is him paying her back before he intends to commit suicide.

Aside 2 - Shouko's pain is also focused on by the narrative. She tries to commit suicide at one point (thankfully, Shoya saves her.) And she is allowed to be deeply upset, snap at, and fight back against Shoya when he is being so cruel to her. It is also shown in the manga that her dad left due to her deafness being discovered, leaving her mother to raise Shouko and her sister alone.

By contrast...

Bakugou is always well loved, by all, despite his constant screaming, despite his verbally, physically and emotionally abusive tendencies to everyone around him.

Bakugou is never fully 'outed' as a bully or experience any form of social ostracisation for his treatment of Izuku. In fact, this is ignored by 1A. (While Shoya's new friend Tomohiro is allowed to experience upset and disbelief at the thought of Shoya having once bullied someone for being deaf in the past - 1A is silent about Bakugou exploding Izuku and calling him useless constantly instead of his name.)

Bakugou does experience mental health challenges - however, this is completely separate to Izuku and his treatment of him - in the form of his kidnapping by the LOV, All Might losing his quirk and dying at the hand of ShigAFO. But it feels like he hardly grew at all... "Will I catch up to you, Izuku?" Along with the card memory feels unearned when you remember that apart from this, for over a decade Bakugou has been beating Izuku down constantly, exploding him, destroying his things and calling him useless (Deku) instead of his name. (Perhaps to ensure that Izuku stays a pebble in his path, stays beneath him, rather than overtaking him.)

Side note - when Bakugou remembers his past, he remembers Izuku offering to help him up, he remembers briefly him exploding Izuku and Izuku chasing after him. Rather than the full nasty extent of the bullying.

Bakugou has people that dislike him, but they are few and far between (Monoma, Present Mic, Tokoyami, Sato) but in the narrative they are always portrayed as wrong.

Bakugou is shown to be abrasive to all of those in his inner circle. His moments of 'softness' are few and far between, seemingly OOC before abrasive bastard Bakugou takes centre stage again. (There's no soft moments like there are between Shoya and his mother or Shoya and Shouko or Shoya and Tomohiro.)

Furthermore, Izuku's pain and thoughts on his own discrimination after some time vanish from the narrative. Nonsensically, throughout the story, he loves Bakugou and seemingly worships the ground he walks on. Bar, one moment in the beginning, Izuku is never fully allowed to stand up to Bakugou or (rightfully) think negatively of him. After some time, Izuku focus and internal voice in MHA just disappears. Izuku's dad is nowhere to be seen, and (unlike Shouko) we get no canon explanation for this. He's just not there.

TLDR - In a Silent Voice, Shoya is redeemed well. He saves Shouko from her suicide attempt, nearly dies in the process, and makes an effort to become her friend and learn sign language for her. He also experiences consequences for his discrimination of Shouko. In the narrative, he shares narrative focus with Shouko, so them becoming an item at the end feels earned.

In MHA, Bakugou is 'redeemed' poorly. His focus when he saved Izuku was about saving OFA. All of the effort in Bakugou and Izuku becoming "friends" is made to be carried by Izuku (Bakugou's victim.) He experiences no concequence of acting like a bratty spoilt child to everyone at UA and still treating Izuku like the dirt under his shoe. In the narrative, Bakugou overshadows Izuku’s focus so much that Bakugou is treated more as an MC and Izuku (sadly) we feel more distant from as a result. Bakugou and Izuku's "friendship" feels abusive and unearned, and I wish they were permanently separated.

[sylvies-chen]

my favourite thing about season 2 hands down was watching them bring darcy’s storyline to life and it really highlights what heartstopper as a comic-book-turned-television-show does so so well, which is encompass different forms of queer trauma/struggle

this season focused a lot on nick’s journey with coming out, the steps forwards and backwards he takes. it also shows him dealing with actual homophobic sentiments directed at him in his own home for the first time (can I get a good ol’ FUCK david nelson up in here? thank you!) which he has to learn to handle if he wants to come out sadly. and gaining that strength to step forward into the public eye and even just the point of having to actively own and protect your identity is definitely a valid struggle and anxiety-inducing thing, as we all see.

charlie’s trauma is also explored, though it takes to the end of season/vol 2 to get us there, in that spot where he opens up about it. the eating problems is definitely the red flag that consistently and subtly pops up throughout the season, but we don’t get that full unravelling of the impact it’s had on him until the last episode. he got outed and bullied at school at an age where social acceptance and community is so integral to your self-esteem. and he hasn’t developed healthy coping mechanisms to deal with the lasting impacts of it.

but darcy’s trauma and struggle weighed on my heart so much this season too, because not only is kizzy just a phenomenal actor but also because it provided a whole other angle of trauma that charlie and nick haven’t quite been through: the trauma of homophobia from a parent. like, it is so crushing to learn that the one person who is supposed to love you unconditionally just… doesn’t. nick has his mum, and charlie has tori as a protector and supporter, and his parents too in their very misguided way. they both have at least one family figure in the household that embraces them and, at the very least, will defend them. but darcy doesn’t, and her friends are her only support system. which doesn’t make her struggles any worse or better than nick’s or charlie’s, but it just brings a different angle into how she interacts with the group and I loved getting to watch her finally be able to open up.

I could also go into ben, how he represents a fourth sort of struggle which is when queer repression and internalized homophobia take a toll on your moral character, but instead I just want to wrap up by saying that as much as heartstopper represents the varying ways in which queer struggles impact your life, it does so thricefold in representing the different ways in which queerness and queer community heal you, making life more vibrant and fun and peaceful.

so… yeah. I’m not emotional you are.

[twilghtkoo]

ride: rendezvous [part two] jjk

“where we going?” “you’ll see.”

summary. you’re having one of the worst days so jungkook takes you to his favorite place

pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)

genres/aus. fluff, comfort, s2l, f2l, college au

warnings. slight peek of popular!jk, reader has anxiety, mentions of a panic attack

word count.

notes. this series is in chronological order so this is a bit after their first date!! a scene that i wrote is inspired by a tiktok i saw 🛐 guys i was deadass when i said i keep seeing motorcycle tiktoks on my fyp T__T it was so random but my brain somehow connected it to jungkook, anyway !!! stream still with you and likes/reblogs are appreciated >_<

[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]

—

you failed.

you failed the test.

you stared at your laptop screen, the big, bold, red colored fifty-nine almost mocking you in a sense. if the nine grew a pair of eyes and a mouth it’d be laughing at you right now.

you don’t get it. you’ve studied for this test, knowing it’d play a big part in your overall grade, and you still managed to flunk it.

tears started to form, blurring your vision, before you remember that you’re in the library that occupy other fellow students that don’t need to see a mental breakdown and a forming anxiety attack. even though they probably would’ve understood. you shut your laptop and shove the electronic inside your bag, standing up to push your chair in to make your way to the exit doors.

jungkook isn’t here with you today. he was working on a project with a couple of his classmates somewhere on campus, you can’t remember his text.

and although you wish you could just dial his number and cry to him, you don’t. no matter how bad your chest is tightening. instead, just taking the bus home and already deciding to have a crying session with your pillows.

-

“see you later jeon.”

jungkook waves one last time to namjoon and taehyung, his classmates, before he heads in the opposite direction. shoving his hands in the front of his jean pockets as he takes his time to walk to the campus’s parking garage.

he can feel the stares of the people who pass by but he ignores them.

he’s reminded of the one girl who’s been on his mind and he pulls his phone out to see if he’s gotten any notifications from you. but there’s none.

that’s strange. he pouts at his screen, only a few notifications being emails from his teachers and some from social media. but they don’t speak out to him the way yours do. he’s familiar with your schedule so he knows you’re out of class already. you usually text him to tell him how your class went and spam his tiktok with a dozen of tiktoks— he watches them all by the way.

before he concerns any further, his phone dings and he freezes.

“oh, jungkook!” a girl shouts from behind him, waving to get his attention. quickly glancing at her before he starts to pick up his pace. is she from one of his classes? he can’t remember.

he gives a tight lipped smile before he starts jogging. “can’t talk right now.”

yn 👑

ur out of class aren’t u, can u come over? ;-;

-

you got home about an hour ago and you still haven’t broke down. the heavy weight on your chest was becoming too much, but why won’t your body let you give out.

you groan out loud, turning over on your bed and clutching your plushie that looks like it’s been through hell and back— you’ve had it since you were a kid, okay— tighter against your chest. hoping it’ll ease the pain in your chest.

the familiar roar of a motorcycle awakens you and you’re quick to hop on your feet and rush to your door.

by the time you open your front door jungkook was just walking towards you.

“hey princess, eager to see me?” he chuckles, brushing back the strands of hair from his forehead with his tatted hand. it’s the same strands that have you itch to brush them yourself. an action that seemed too intimate, you weren’t sure if you could handle that. but you wanted to test the waters.

not trusting what you would say if you opened your mouth so you nod.

“you okay? anything happened today?” he asks while stepping into your home after you told him to come in. it’s not the first he’s been inside your home, your safe space that surrounds colors, photos and a scent that screamed you.

from his questions, the tightening feeling in your chest returned and you wince.

your fists are by your sides, opening and closing.

“i think i’m okay, i don’t know. and yeah, something did happen.” you responded softly. he observes the way your eyes dodge his and lower at his feet. something was definitely clouding your mind.

he sighs. “wanna come with me somewhere? you can tell me when we get there, if you want.”

“where we going?” you ask, as you get yourself comfortable behind him, before circling your arms around him.

he kicks the kickstand off, turning his head with his helmet on. “you’ll see.” revving the throttle as you both head to your destination.

-

“a park,” you giggled. “are you healing your inner child?”

he smirks at you, helping you with your helmet. since your first date, every time you are on his bike he becomes so attentive towards you.

“no, but i thought we could go on the swings and if you’re comfortable enough you can tell me who or what made you sad.”

your eyes dance over to the vacant playground behind him and back up to his eyes that are studying yours.

“you gonna beat up somebody for me?” you joke, but his face remains the same but with amusement behind his orbs.

“yah,” you nudge his side with your finger making him break his tough side, finally breaking out into a smile. the mole under his bottom lip reveals itself and you have to fight yourself to not reach on your tippy toes and kiss the beauty mark.

he gently places a hand on your waist, pulling you along with him. “come on, i’ll push you.” he tells you, leading you to the two swings.

you sit on a swing, holding onto the rusty chains as jungkook gets behind you. the mulch underneath you both crunching from his chunky boots.

“don’t push me too hard.” you tell him, a bit scared.

he lets out a laugh, “i won’t, promise.”

jungkook and you fall into a comfortable silence as he pushes you, careful not to push you too high.

“i failed my test.” you confess, you watch your still feet pass by the scenery blur beneath you.

“and i’m mad at myself because i studied so hard for it yet i managed to fail. god, and i don’t even want to see how much it dropped my grade, i literally almost had a panic attack in the library, but i left, and i wanted to contact you but remembered you were with your classmates so i had plans to cry into my pillow and fall into a pit of self-deprecation—“

jungkook grabs hold onto the swings chains to still you. “woah, woah princess, shhh.” he comes around to crouch down in front of you.

jungkook has never comforted someone, never been in a situation where a person in front of him showed their weakness. but you’re different. the way your voice cracked before he cut you off broke something inside him. it was an act of instinct how he’s crouching in front of you, his hands wrapped around the rusty chains next to your hips. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to console someone but for you he’ll learn today.

“do you want my advice or do you want to be held?” he asks you, his eyes raking over your facial features.

you purse your lips, curling your hands into your thighs before shyly answering, “can you hug me?”

he softly chuckles before straightening his legs, his figure towering over you before he envelopes you in a hug. cradling your head close to his chest.

once you were engulfed in the boy who slowly yet managed to warm up to your heart, you let out small cries. your fingers gripping the denim fabric of his jean jacket.

“you can cry princess, i won’t ever judge you.” he mumbles, his large hand brushing your head.

you don’t want to scare him but those words make you cry harder. like you’ve always wanted to hear those words.

-

you gasp, the palm of your hand is covering your mouth as you turn to jungkook. “let’s play rock, paper, scissors.” you suggest, grinning at him.

you cocks an eyebrow, “for?”

“if i win, i get to take your spot and you have to sit behind me. but if you lose…hm..i don’t know.” you laugh.

“i really like you princess, but i won’t let you ride us to our death.”

did your brain even process his words?

you smack him on the shoulder, he doesn’t even flinch. “no, just to sit. please,” you beg, putting your hands together and poking out your bottom lip and batting your eyelashes.

jungkook observes you with a smirk. do you even know that if you weren’t begging he would have said yes to you. because you affect him in that way.

in a way he’ll do anything for you.

he scoffs, letting out sigh and bringing out his hands out of his pockets. “okay.”

-

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

you: paper

jungkook: scissors

“two out of three!” you exclaim.

he laughs but accepts it.

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

you: rock

jungkook: scissors

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

you: scissors

jungkook: paper

“i won, you lose!” you bring your index and middle finger to cut his imaginary paper that’s his hand before jumping up and down.

he shakes his head. “you win,” he states, taking a step closer and leaning in.

“hop on, loser.” you jog over to his parked bike, throwing your leg over the seat to sit. you lean forward to grab the hand clutches with a big smile on your face.

“vroom, vroom,” you mimic the sound of the bike coming to life in an adorable way that has jungkook turning his head so you don’t see the goofy smile on his face. the way your figure looks tiny on the seat of his usual spot compared to him. your feet can barely even touch the ground.

he reaches in the front of his pant pocket. “let me take a photo of you.” he spoke, you nod giving him permission.

he quickly snaps a few photos of you before he finally makes his way over to you. leaving a mental note to send them to you and to look over them when he gets home. with one hand placed over your hip he manages to sit behind you. his legs are placed a bit uncomfortable but he doesn’t complain, instead he grabs your waist and squeezes it.

you let out a breathy laugh, “we look so silly right now. my feet can’t even touch the ground.” you wiggle your feet in front of you.

“what if i got a bike?” you ask, dipping your toes in the water. you would never get a bike, but you want to see his reaction.

he shakes his head, the wavy strands framing his face swaying left and right. “definitely not. bikes are dangerous, plus princesses can’t ride bikes.” he tries to reason with you.

you pout your lips, “princess peach does.” you mutter.

he scoffs, “babe, this isn’t mario kart silly. and, i enjoy having you as my backpack.”

[ataraxiaspainting]

Sweet Hibiscus Tea.

Yan Shalnark x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a day of finally trying to face your social anxiety, you walk home alone. The roads are empty, quiet, and eerie. But you are almost home now, aren’t you? You are not going to cry anymore. Just when you think life is starting to turn around for you, it goes in the exact opposite direction. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, kidnapping, misogyny, not SFW implications, psychological horror elements, manipulation, panic attacks, Shalnark being an asshole, unhealthy relationships, and stalking.

Word Count: 5k.

Can be considered to be within the Hier Encore universe.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham

Things She Said by Chris Garneau

Baby Bride Rag by Roar

Butch 4 Butch by Rio Romeo

Appetite of a People-Pleaser by Ghost and Pals

Valentine, Texas by Mitski

I’m Yer Dad by GRLwood

Cry Baby by Melanie Martinez

Freaks by Surf Curse

Neighbour by Mother Mother

“You stay soft, you get beaten; only natural to harden up.” — Mitski, Stay Soft

*~*~*~*

Regardless of how much time has passed, this convenience store always remains the same.

There is always the familiar, tired face of the clerk behind the cash register, her gaze never on you or any other customer who walks in and out of the doors, a simple, muted hello being the only proof that she noticed you.

The lights dim and blink without fail, fading from white to a shade of daffodil to dark flaxen before disappearing and resurfacing yet again as alabaster. No matter how black the night sky is, the less-than-bright illumination never changes.

Neither does the rest of the scenery.

Next to the payment area are two vending machines, with one not functioning. It is dead, with the glass broken by a punch that left a large gaping hole in the dead center. Once when you accidentally touched the front wall while bending down to get your can of lemonade from the working one, it left a sticky residue that had you rubbing your palm on your sweater for what felt like an eternity. It somewhat helped, you guessed, but it also stained your clothes. The vending machine to its right was always out of most sweet drinks, often leaving you with the choice of coffee, lemonade, green tea, or water.

You don’t buy any snacks aside from strawberry Pocky and, if you are lucky, a chocolate bar.

But you do buy meals here because it is cheap. Usually fish with miso or a salad, but there have been times when you can find a premade sandwich.

The total cost comes to between 500 to 1000 Jenny. There is always a poster that claims the cashier is the employee of the month, though you are certain that she is the only one who works there.

The only thing that ever changes is the calendar behind her. The past dates are crossed out in red ink that is in the form of thick, scraggly lines. They remind you of the drawings you used to make as a child when your father was too busy screaming outside your door and your mother was too powerless to do anything but cry and yelp as he hit her. One time you drew them fighting, and when one of your maids saw it, it inevitably found its way to his desk.

Needless to say, he was not happy by any means.

*~*~*~*

The calendar behind the worker reads the 17th of April, 1998. On this day in 1985, your first and only ever friend, the head gardener’s apprentice, went missing. When you eventually gathered up the courage after waiting for hours outside, you went to your father’s room to ask where she was.

“She has been removed from the premises for distracting you instead of doing her job.” The answer you got was to the point, because when has he ever been warm to you? “I made sure that she had learned her lesson before she died. She was in pain the whole time. It was a shame to put a bullet between her pretty eyes. But at least she had a bit more use to me beforehand.”

You cried and cried until you threw up.

That is when your mother, the usual bandage over her left cheek this time, came in and sat on your bed gently, sadly.

She patted the area next to her and slowly you stood up from the floor where you kneeled as you sobbed and went over. She asked you if you wanted a hug and you said no. She responded with a simple nod, respecting your answer. But then what she said next turned your tear-stricken face into a glare.

“She’s alive.” She muttered, along with thanks to God and a hold of the cross on her neck. 

“...What?”

Your mother shushed you when she heard footsteps coming to the door. When the sound eventually leaves further into the hallway, she leans into your ear while pointing to your vanity. Your gaze leads you to the dusty cat statue made of garnet.

It got shattered a little while ago when a maid cleaning your room accidentally made it fall to the floor. You felt bad for her as she was a new hire, so you never told anyone aside from your mother. You knew that if your father, the head of this household, ever found out he would punish her severely, even when he did not care for the statue at all. You got to choose, if you were lucky, which part gets whipped or cut off.

“Yes.”

Her short answer leaves you almost jumping up out of your seat. “...Huh?”

“At last week’s banquet, she caught the attention of your father’s wealthiest business partner.” She turns to the curtains covering the lone window in your room, her back now facing you. “She was tricked into boarding a car when the driver claimed you were inside waiting for her. To the partner in question, she is nothing but another pretty face to add to his collection.”

At the slight turn of the doorknob next door, you two go as still as wax people in a museum. “Why did he lie to me?”

“Why? Well, he certainly did not want you rebelling against his decision.”

“But I have never rebelled against him before.”

“I know.” Your mother lets out a sharp laugh, salty and sour. “I know you are always trying to be good, trying to stay under the radar. I know, I know because you are a lot like me. but now I am going to teach you a lesson about your father and the world at large. Remember that a man’s resentful attitude will always result in a woman’s agony, physical or otherwise, always. However, when things go right for a man, a woman is either praised like a dog or ignored until something goes wrong because it is never enough.”

You can’t breathe. “But why? Why, why, why? What did I do wrong? What could I have done right?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. There is nothing you can do or could have done. No matter what, your faults will always be found. That is how most men are raised, to find, and how most women are raised, to hide.”

“...”

“Men’s hearts are such cruel, small things. Oftentimes they can only fit themselves in them, but there have been times where even they cannot fit.” She is still holding onto the cross charm on her gold necklace, firmer than she has ever held you. “They are cold, are or are almost dead. There is no room for people like you and me. No room at all. All they see us as is something to own, something with no feelings whatsoever, and whose only purpose is to please no matter the cost. Such pigs, all of them.” She murmurs some prayers that you cannot hear. “I want you to be better. I want what is best for you, what I never have been able to accomplish; run and live.”

She opens the drawer beside your bed, and you don’t do anything to stop her. It is not like you can hide anything, from her or anyone else in this house. Whatever is buried eventually resurfaces. She pulls out your rarely used bible, a thick layer of dust on the leather cover. It smells and makes you cough. She doesn’t though.

“At least your father does not force you to read this day and night.”

“Mmhmm.”

“It is one of the few things I appreciate him not doing, I do not want you to grow up hating the church.”

“I know.”

“He has made you hate a lot of things already.”

She turns the pages, dust flying around the cold air.

“He made me hate a lot of things too. Blankets, steaks, cameras. The color white, the color black, the color red. The sounds of belts unbuckling, the sound of laughter, the sounds of doors opening and closing and locking.”

You don’t say anything, only looking at her hands. Only in the dark can you not see her scars, her blooming wrinkles, and the bruises that are always fresh. 

You don’t say anything, because you have learned from a very young age that you are her only listening ear. You are the only one who keeps her head on her shoulders. You don’t say anything, because she is right. He has made you hate plenty of things. But, but, but. But you can’t hate him, and you can’t hate your mother.

You can’t hate her, because who knows what she would do when she finds out that no one cares about her pain in this hell?

“Mother.” You mutter, putting your head on her shoulder as you scan the text on the page that she selected. She does not stop you. 

“Yes, [First]?”

“Do you hate me?” You ask, trying so very hard to not let her see the tears that threaten to come out of your eyes. “Because… because… if I wasn’t conceived, you wouldn’t be here hurting, would you?”

You could swear that you heard her heart skip a beat.

“...I would not be here, yes.”

She is honest, for once. You know at least some of this situation is all your fault.

“Do you hate me?”

“...”

“Mother, please answer me.”

You hear a sniffle as she starts mumbling the words written. “‘A gracious woman gets honor, and violent men get riches.’”

You choose not to press on the subject. You don’t want her to suffer anymore.

*~*~*~*

You buy an orange-flavored Ramune soda, a pack of pork ginger instant ramen, and strawberry Pocky.

The total would come to about 600 Jenny if your quick calculations are right. You could get something extra, like a topping for your ramen or some chips. But would it be wise? You have never been someone who finishes their plate after you had ran away, so what if you just waste your money?

So, you decide not to get anything else.

You walk to the cash register.

You hear an explosion from the back of the building. Small sparks of white and orange. The lights go off before you can place your chosen items down, and you can hear the employee cursing under her breath. The breaker. What happened?

“Damn it, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” She grumbles, putting her thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of her nose, rubbing. “No raises whatsoever. Only one here. Without me, this place wouldn’t be working, ungrateful pricks.”

Fighting the way your heart rate shoots up, you decide that talking to her would be best. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone aside from your boss, right? 

Maybe your anxieties would quell, and you can eventually graduate to talking to your co-workers, that would be a dream come true for you.

You haven’t had a friend, a real friend, ever since Rose was taken from you all those years ago. You still cry whenever you think about her. You miss her. Is she dead, is she alive?

You still blame yourself. If only you hadn’t talked to her, maybe she would still be with you. What kind of adult would she have been? A kind one, a responsible one? You would still be friends at least, wouldn’t you? Or would she grow to hate you, if she didn’t already?

You keep telling yourself that she wouldn’t and didn’t, but that is not what your mind tells you.

Is she dead?

You could picture a rotting corpse six feet under. An unmarked grave. Glassy, dead, amber eyes looking upward to anyone who looks down, helpless, pleading. You always liked them, always complimenting them much to Rose’s shy chuckles. She was so pretty, that much was true. You could only imagine how beautiful she would have been as an adult.

Her looks were a personal gift from God, the heavens, and the angels.

But if she didn’t have them, would she not have been treated like she was in the estate?

“Erm, excuse me,” You mutter, taking a few steps forward. “If you want I can go check it out.”

It is what Rose would do. She always liked helping others. You just wish that people would have appreciated it more and seen past her appearance. It was a double-edged sword. It helped her become the head gardener’s apprentice but also caught the attention of both your father and his business partners. You felt bad for her, and still do.

The employee turns around, her confusion prominent despite the dark. 

“Erm,” You mutter, looking down at your hands and entangling your fingers in one another. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment. “Is that okay?”

It takes a few moments to respond. Her surprise was unexpected, as you never spoke to her outside of asking her if she had change or telling her you hoped that she had a good night. Rose would be better at this kind of thing. You once had a dream that at a fast food joint, an adult her would order for you and correct the staff when they put pickles on your burger. It’s what could have been, funny moments like that. She had always been the one to take charge, you following her like a lost puppy.

You miss her so much.

So much.

The worker slowly nods. “...Okay.”

“...It’s in the back, right? The breaker.”

This is so awkward. Rose would be better. You wish she was here. Or your mother. Anyone.

“...Uh. Um… I like your eyeliner.” As soon as you say that, you curse at yourself, not wanting to sound like a creep. The woman’s confusion becomes even more prominent.

“...Thanks, and yeah, it’s in the back.”

“...Okay.” Jesus Christ. You turn away from her, the heat on your cheeks hot enough to be mistaken for a fever. This is not what Rose would have done.

“...You can leave your stuff here.” She says, and you quickly spin your heel and put your items on the counter. “It’s not like they are going to grow legs and run off, so relax.”

“...” You both chuckle, and you feel slightly better. “...Thanks. I’ll go now.”

“...” You start walking. “Wrong way.”

You stop.

It takes you a few seconds for you to move back to first base and go off in the opposite direction. As soon as you open the creaky steel door, strong rain and cold wind greet you, along with a loud clap of thunder and lightning.

Perhaps you could go back and get your umbrella from the stand by the door. But that would be even more awkward.

“Stupid. Stupid.”

“If we are lucky, the wind simply detached it or something. Not the best at this sort of thing, though.”

“I don’t think breakers detach.” You could picture her shrugging and scoffing at your murmur. “Sorry. Sorry. Just… sorry. I’m the best at this sort of thing either.”

You close the door behind you and start looking amongst the pitter-patter of the raindrops and gusts that nearly make you fall over. 

Stupid. Why do you make everything so weird? Rose would have been so much more charismatic. It was one of her strongest traits after all.

Stupid.

It’s hard to see. Trying not to trip over stones and cracked cement, you grip onto the wall and walk forward. Soon, you feel something.

“Ew, ew, ew!” You cry out, quickly moving your hand away from the slimy slug. “Ew!”

“You okay?”

“Uh, nothing. Just a bug. Yeah, just a bug.”

You hear a chuckle. Stupid.

“Sorry!” You exclaim, almost bowing your head. “Sorry! Really!”

Making sure you don’t touch the slug again, you keep moving.

Eventually, you find the breaker. But it wasn’t what you were expecting by any means. The damage almost looks like it was done on purpose, the way it was open and covered in soot. Did something get to it?

The breaker that exploded was a mass of melted metal that had been blown apart from the intense amount of heat and pressure. It was now barely recognizable as a single unit–parts of it scattered across the cement path and others having been fused and becoming something else entirely. The metal had been melted and blown upwards in the sheer force of the explosion, coating parts of the wall, wet grass, and roof with small, solidified droplets of metal. The ground around the remains of the breaker is burnt and scarred with traces of the immense fire that had consumed it.

It seems the rain put it out.

“No hope for this, huh?”

“Hey,” The employee calls out. “How bad is it? If there is nothing you can do, come back inside.”

So, you do.

The way she turns at you is robotic almost. A smile is on her face that was not there before. She nods when she sees you. Something tells you to not approach.

“It exploded into molten metal.”

“Oh well.”

Under the stormy skies, her gaze turns pale. Her eyes, seemingly captivating, lack any hint of vitality, while her lips curve in a disarming and saccharine manner. A shiver runs down your spine as you meet her gaze, every fiber of your being urging you to flee. Deep within your primal instincts, an innate awareness stirs, recognizing the smile as a charade, a mask of humanity that ventures into the realm of unease: akin to an artificial being adorned with synthetic flesh or a wax figure encased in glass. Those lifeless, white eyes, coupled with a forked tongue and an unsettlingly beautiful countenance, leave you with an undeniable sense of mistrust.

“You’re not mad? Really? Um…”

Something is off. What happened? She looks more like an imposter than anything else. But if she is, where did the real cashier go?

“Don’t worry.” She says, her voice oddly chipper and no longer confused by your awkwardness. “It’s fine. I’m quitting anyway, so it’ll be my boss’ problem.”

You turn your head. “Really?”

She nods. Something is off.

“Like really?”

You blink multiple times and you don’t think she does. She just stands there. Slowly, she nods. Something tells you to run yet again.

“Um… um… okay. Okay. I’ll just pay and leave. How much does it come up to?”

She shakes her head.

“Um. I have to pay. It’s thievery if I don’t.” You get closer. “It’s the law.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can’t just not pay.” You say, taking out your wallet from your sweater pocket. “That’s stealing. It’s wrong.”

Every action she takes is measured and precise, and she seems to move like a machine rather than a person. It’s as if she’s been programmed to act and talk in a certain way, and she doesn’t seem to have the ability to break out of that. She simply stares at you, not speaking.

Run.

You undo the metallic button, hearing the shuffling of paper Jenny within your wallet. “Um. Let me pay. Please.”

She simply shakes her head again.

“It’s fine.” The employee says, the smile still plastered on her face. There is quite more than a hint of blankness and detachment in her expression. She speaks in a mechanical and emotionless manner, her words delivered as though repeated from a script of carefully chosen sentences. Her movements are quick and precise, putting your chosen items in a plastic bag. There is no life or energy in her actions, instead, she moves like a mindless machine, performing her tasks before her without showing any personality of her own. Is it better to just accept it?

What should you do? What shouldn’t you do? Is she joking? Should you leave?

What would Rose do?

One of her hands grasps onto the plastic handles and she holds it out before you. There is no authenticity or warmth. Her eyes are blank. What happened? Should you ask? Should you just take the bag without saying anything further?

“Okay,” You murmur, obeying her silent command. “I hope you don’t get into any trouble though.”

*~*~*~*

Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)

Did you find anything?

Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)

Feitan found her heels nearby along with some blood, so she couldn’t have gotten very far.

You (9th May 1996 17:45)

Nothing yet

Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)

Try checking the stores nearby.

Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)

From the blood trail, she is most likely injured from running and trying to fix herself up in some sort of shelter.

Boss (9th May 1996 17:48)

She may have also discarded the rest of her clothes, not just the heels, and is currently wearing something else.

You (9th May 1996 18:15)

I found a dress and jewelry at the bottom of a lake

You (9th May 1996 18:18)

(image sent)

Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)

That’s it.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)

Disappointing. I’ll send over Pakunoda to ask people nearby.

You (9th May 1996 18:20)

K

You (9th May 1996 18:21)

Don’t cry, I’m sure we’ll find her soon :) 

Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)

I wasn’t crying.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)

I just thought she came around already.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:23)

This will set our heists back weeks.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:24)

She has planned this out for more than a year, it seems.

*~*~*~*

Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. You can’t hear anything else. The sounds sting your ears like an aggravated hornet. 

The darkness around you is solid, more so than the cracked, aged concrete path beneath your shoes. There is a tiny light in the distance; a streetlamp.

Silence.

“...”

“Have a good day!”

“...Thank you.”

Let there be light.

“Um…” You can’t see anything. The sounds… stopped. “...Time to go home.”

But the pain stays. 

It feels like a drill. 

It hurts.

“...” You feel deaf and blind. No, maybe something even worse. “...”

You turn around, to the dark convenience store, and you see the cashier still staring at you. “Have a good day!”

“...”

“[First]?”

…How does she know your name? Did you say it to her in the past?

When you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

“[First], dear.” She starts waving as you look at her. “[First]. [First]. [First]. [First]. [First]!”

There is nothing but emptiness. Is your name all she can say? What happened to her? It is like she has regressed. Like a storm cloud in summer, you do not wish for this pain. Now you feel deaf and blind and mute now. 

You almost wish that you were dead. All there is is pain. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. 

Interruption. The sounds returned. Is this good? Is this bad? Does it matter at all? 

You walk. You don’t speak. Only walk. You can’t breathe. You can only move. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. 

Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. 

A hand clamps over your mouth.

You drop the plastic bag from shock, and then you finally hear something other than those sounds; glass shattering.

“Sh…” A voice, calm, along with the smell of oranges. “It’s okay.”

“...!”

“Don’t scream.”

The touch of lips, a man’s lips, on your ear, thin and hard. 

“Breathe. Just breathe for me, okay?”

But you can’t. The wind goes down your throat. It is suffocating. You can’t breathe. You smell oranges and something rotting, blood.

It stinks. It fucking stinks.

Christ. Get away. That stink. That fucking stink. Your body rejects it by continuing to not breathe.

“Sh… Breathe. Just breathe, for me, for you, for us.”

“...St… Sto-”

“Sh…” The voice is sweet, not at all sour, like candy. “Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just breathe. You’re going to pass out.” The lips and the scent of his breath are like salted leather in a butcher’s shop, stinky and rotting. “Calm down. Don’t worry.”

“...Sto… Si-”

“Breathe. Sh… It’s okay. Breathe.”

“...Ge… Sti…”

“Sh… Breathe. Breathe, [First]. Breathe. [First]. Breathe. Breathe. It’s okay. Don’t worry about all this. Breathe.”

When you finally do, you gasp, desperate. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”

Get off of me, I can smell you. 

“There we go!”

Your vision clears up a bit. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”

“Just keep breathing.”

“...Huff…”

You can smell him. You can practically taste him, with his mouth so close to you.

“Whew! That was a close one!” The man exclaimed, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

Pain. Get off of me. I can smell you, I can hear you, I can taste you. Get off of me. Please.

The pain still stays, in your chest and your ears, and your head. Oranges. Blood.

Get off of me.

Please–

A pain in the back of your neck and you go limp.

Darkness. Then pain again. You can’t move. You can only breathe. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. 

*~*~*~*

SAINTSHORE SPACE THEATRE

UNDER THE DIRECTION OF RANDOLF URASLEF, GRETEL JAMES, AND QUINCEY J. ORATICE

PAUL DONSHEL CELESTE BAKER   ANNE CROAKS

AND

THE GREAT COMET THEATRE COMPANY

SWAN LAKE

ADAPTED BY MUSIC WRITTEN BY PYOTR ILLYICH TCHAIKOVSKY

INSPIRED BY THE CHOREOGRAPHY OF JULIUS REISINGER

WITH THE WONDERFUL CAST OF

(IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE)

Odette, the White Swan………………………………………………………….JEAN YVETTE

Odile, the Black Swan……………………………………………………………...JUNO LILOU

Prince Siegfried……………………………………………………………(the name is illegible.)

The rest of the list’s names cannot be read just like Prince Siegfried.

“She is simply beautiful. Just so beautiful. Simply wonderful, perfect.”

As the spotlights ignite, their scorching beams engulf you, causing you to shield your eyes with futile resistance. The sheer force of the light overwhelms your feeble defense. An ethereal audience erupts with exuberant cheers, applause, and whistles, resonating from vacant seats. Champagne flutes collide, men erupt with hearty laughter from their very core, and women unleash piercing screams akin to banshees.

The temperature rises and the noise intensifies, repeatedly, enveloping you in a symphony of overwhelming sensations.

Onlookers casually share their thoughts.

“Get off the stage, we want to see the play, not some stagehand!”

“Boo!”

“Fuck off!”

You run off crying.

“Where is that Odile girl?”

You run into a dressing room. One used by a woman wearing a black dress. She is so pretty. Her long strawberry blonde hair falls off her bare shoulders, clearly just done with a flat iron. There is a burning smell in the air. Smoke. When her gold eyes meet yours, she marches towards you and slams the door shut.

You can almost hear sobbing coming from the other side. Cries.

“So lonely…” The woman mutters. “When will it ever be enough?”

The voice sounds familiar. Her eyes. Her hair.

Nostalgia. Memories you would much rather forget. The basement. The imaginary ripping of clothes and tears and men’s laughter.

“I can’t do this much longer…”

Someone else knocks on her door. You want to scream.

“Come out, dearest.”

The devil. Tall with curved horns and a forked tongue. You want to warn her. 

You want to save her. “I’m not going to harm you, I am going to make you happy.”

You are so focused on whether the woman opens the door or not that you do not notice what happens next until it is too late. A clawed hand on your mouth. A tongue licking your ear. Tasting your sweat. Your tears. Laughter. The rest of the world disappears, and the only one there aside from you is the one behind you.

Sh… Sh… Sh… Sh… Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. 

Get off of me. Please.

“Breathe. It makes things more fun for me.” The voice echoed like you two are in a cave.

You gasp for air, and the smell of blood and oranges fills your nostrils.

“...Huff…”

“That’s better.”

You turn around. There is a body of a man. 

But the scaled, furred, horrifying face of a demon.

“Good.” He says, smiling his sharp teeth. “Deep breaths, in and out, come on.”

You do what he says. He praises you again, you think. But you can’t hear it. Either that or you simply do not pay attention to it. What happened to the woman? 

“...”

“We should go.”

The woman. The devil, this other… thing.

“...Rose…”

The demon laughs.

“Wake up.”

*~*~*~*

The first things you hear come from a happy man’s voice. “My boss’ girlfriend ran away more than a year ago you see, and he’s been heartbroken ever since. I want to prevent that kind of loss from happening to me. Real pretty one, too! He didn’t expect it, but I don’t blame her. After all, she’s been held captive for more than a year, she had to try to escape eventually.”

…The first thing you feel is lace on your neck. A collar.

It does not tickle or hurt. It itches. 

A cold hand plays with it, and it almost chokes you. At your discomfort, the man laughs.

“You are so cute.”

Something metal is on the collar, and it blinks a small red light.