#i had a ~~~ Vision ~~~~~ and went with it lol

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL PT2: A slippery slope

Part 1

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: after your adventure on Normandie, you've been dealing with the consequences of the horror. Unfortunately, you start to realize that you might not be the person you think you are. It doesn't help when a certain doctor finds you again.

Warnings: lingering head trauma, identity crisis, kidnapping, mocking, dog collar (lol), syringes/drugs, forced tattooing,

Word count: 9.3k

You get off the subway in silence and push your way through the crowd, walk up the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Blinking, you try to fix your blurry vision. Sometimes, even though it’s been three months since you were hit on the head with a glass bottle, you’re reminded of the events on board the liner Normandie. You had been running around over two days before going to the hospital about the blow to your head. It seems to have been too late. What could have been brushed off with some bandage and disinfection had now given you minor problems you are dealing with daily. Not enough to hurt or bother, but enough for your agency to hesitate sending you out on missions. 

These last months have been weird, to say the least. Not only have you been forced to take a break from your job, you have been lonely. So very lonely. You haven’t done anything and the only time you’ve went outside the door is when you go to your doctor’s appointments and when buying food. After the ominous note you got, you have been careful about going outside, scared that you will meet them again. How long will your life be forced to be like this? Maybe you should leave New York and start over somewhere new, where you can live a normal life. No more detective work, no more hiding, no more … fear. Perhaps a farm on the west coast? 

You open the door to the private hospital. It’s located in a house no other than any of the other houses on the street. The first time you were here, you thought that you had been given the wrong address and waked into someone’s private house. Quietly you walk into the reception. The young woman behind the desk has always been friendly. Her sparkly blue eyes and chestnut hair remind you of a squirrel.  

“Good morning”, the receptionist smiles at you. “Name?”

“Y/N L/N”, you say. “I’m here for a revisit at eleven am.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you. Your doctor is currently on sick leave, so there will be another doctor taking care of you today. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Take a seat and the doctor will see you in a moment.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You sit down in one of the wooden chairs. The clock on the wall ticks like a doomsday clock. You can’t help but shiver. 

Your eyes wander in the small room. A mother with her young son, a father with his daughter, an old couple. And you, alone. There’s paintings on the walls, as if to distract one from the horror they might have to partake in when they step through one of the three doors on the right hand side of the room. 

You’re not sure why you’re here. You have been going to this doctor for three months and all he’s done is to confirm that you do, indeed, have head trauma. As if you couldn’t figure that part out for yourself. Sometimes you wonder if you still have shards of glass stuck in your head. 

“The doctor will see you now, Mister Y/N”, the receptionist suddenly says. “It’s the middle door.”

You stand up and walk over to the doors on the other side of the room, opening the middle one. Behind the desk, a man sits. He looks up at you and you can feel your heart stop, and so does the clock. For a second, you wonder if it’s one of the side effects from the glass bottle, but you can still hear your heart pound loudly in your chest. He’s trying to hide a smile, trying so hard to make it look like you’ve never met before. What do you do? Do you close the door behind you and get into his office or do you make a scene and get away? Your hand still holds onto the door handle behind you. 

“Close the door, if you don’t mind”, Doctor Kry says and raises his eyebrows testingly when you flinch back. “Don’t even think about it. Close the door.”

With a frustrated sigh, you close it, but remain by the wall. 

“I figure that you’re not going to sit down”, Doctor Kry says and rises from his chair. 

“Don’t come closer”, you say quickly. “I will make a scene.”

“I’m fine with that. Easier for me to get you into a lunatic asylum.”

You freeze. 

“Your usual doctor is on sick leave, so I’m here today”, Doctor Kry continues as if the prior conversation never happened. “I hope that is fine with you.”

“I am not comfortable with having you anywhere near me”, you spit. “How did you even know that I went here?”

Doctor Kry leans back against his desk with his hands in his pockets. “I can’t take the credit for that, unfortunately. It was my dear friend miss Carter who managed to find you.”

“Hedwig?”

“Yeah. Who knew that a young heiress with a phenomenally large contact net and money would be able to find someone like you. Unbelievable.”

You don’t give in to his joke. 

“Sit down, Y/N”, Doctor Kry says and pulls out the chair for you, “or I will get you dragged out of here in a straightjacket.”

Involuntarily you sit down in his chair. Doctor Kry walks around you and you follow him in the corner of your eye. 

“I read your report”, Doctor Kry says. “Trauma to the head? What happened?”

“You fucking know”, you spit.

“Oh, right.”

You want to slap that smirk off of his face. He continues to smile as he puts on his gloves. 

“Let’s get it under control”, Doctor Kry says and takes your head in his hands. 

You flinch, silently praying that he won’t twist your neck and break it. 

“Don’t touch my neck”, you say. 

“How else am I going to treat you?” Doctor Kry scoffs. 

You start to wonder if he’s messing with you when he’s just touching around. He’s too close to your neck, he could snap it. 

“Can you hurry up?” The words just slip out, before you have the time to shut your mouth. 

To your horror, he chuckles. You freeze in your seat. 

“Why did you go so stiff all of a sudden?” Doctor Kry asks smugly, grabbing your shoulders. “Are you scared that I’m going to hurt you, Golden Boy?”

The familiar pet name sends a wave of nausea through your body. You feel how every hair on your body stands on edge. Terrified to meet his blue eyes, you concentrate on a point on the wall where it looks like a small bug has landed. 

“You threatened me with a tranquilizer”, you breathe out. “You could have helped me with my head that night — you’re a doctor — but you didn’t. You could have prevented me from coming here.”

“I could have”, Doctor Kry says. “But why would I? Remember what I told you? I’ve never said that I was nice.”

You stand up, shaking off his hands. 

“We’re done here”, you decide and start to move towards the door. 

“Alright, I suppose so”, Doctor Kry says. 

You grab the door handle with your shaking hand and open it forcefully. 

“I guess that I will see you soon, Y/N”, you hear his voice say behind you. “Can’t let a patient go before they’re healed, now can I?”

You ignore him. Stumbling on trembling legs, you pass the patients in the waiting room, struggle past the receptionist and out of the house. You throw up in the nearest bush.

For a few moments, the world has gone silent again. You can hear your heart thumping in your ear, feel every nerve in your body beat alongside it and you have to sit down on a nearby bench to collect your spinning head. That eerie feeling you had on board the Normandie returns … as if you’re being watched. You look around in a dizzy, blurry haze. Everyone looked like each other. Anyone could be them. If Kry had found you, what says that the others aren’t around the corner?

Going home feels wrong. What if they follow you and see where you live? Where do you go? What do you do? 

Your numb legs take you to a nearby telephone booth. With shaking fingers you call your boss and tell him about the incident. 

“You told me that I’d be safe!” you shout. “I knew that it would end like this! I knew that this would happen!”

“Y/N-”

“If I die, it’s your fucking fault, okay? You sent me out on that ship alone and now I have to deal with the consequences of your choices!”

You throw the telephone back in its hold and scream in frustration. The sound doesn’t escape the little telephone booth, which is probably for the best. You don't want to go to that mental asylum Doctor Kry threatened with.

You stand still for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You feel like crying.

The coming days can't be described as anything less than torture. You look over your shoulder for every step you take, flinch at every sound. Just as paranoid as on board the ship. Those four days will haunt you for the rest of your life … and the ones who caused it will hunt you until you're in their claws.

To calm your nerves, you've had to drink strong whiskey. Nothing else seems to work. Should you leave the country? You shiver. The thought of stepping aboard another ship again makes your skin crawl. You take another sip of the whiskey. It doesn't burn anymore.

The world started to blend together in blurry waves ages ago. It's starting to shift into black. Finally you're going to fall asleep and not have to worry about anything in this world. You’ll be safe in dreamland. 

A small sound reaches your drowsy ears, but you’re too far off to react in time, almost as if you’re drugged. The door opens slowly and a dark figure enters. Everything is fuzzy. The person says something, but you can’t hear it. A cloudy wall separates you from you and whoever has broken into your apartment. A cloud which quickly turns everything black.

When you wake up again, you feel every muscle in your body pulsating, hurting and a nauseating feeling roars in your body. You’re lying on a couch in what looks like a warehouse … or a basement. 

“He’s awake!” a familiar voice gasps. 

Hedwig jumps up from a chair right by your head and waves for someone to come over. You hear the sound of people move closer. You try to pull yourself up on your elbows. 

“You son of a bitch, Y/N”, you hear Silas say, a clear smirk in his taunting voice. “You thought that you could get away. How naive!”

“I want to put it on”, Jerry says and takes something from Edmund’s hands.

“Fuck sake, Jerry!” he hisses and pulls his hand quickly away. “I've told you to trim those nails!”

Jerry doesn't bother to answer. She walks over to you and slips something around your neck. You're too dizzy to realize what it is before it is too late. A collar and a leash. Like a dog. Just like they had promised.

“What an obedient dog”, she snickers. “Letting me put it on without protests.”

She tugs on the leash, causing your head to rip forward. The air in your throat gets abruptly cut off. Their laughter feels your aching head.

“Golden boy deserves a treat”, Edmund smirks and holds a piece of chocolate to your lips.

You turn your head away.

“Don't touch me!” you cough.

“A little too late for that”, Doctor Kry says and shrugs. “How do you think we got you here?”

You try to get up from the couch. Nausea roars through your body. Jerry pulls the leash towards her. You stumble before falling down on your knees, catching yourself with your hands on the hard cement.

“Just face it”, she says cockily. “You're too hungover to overpower us, and once you're sober enough you will already be broken. Don't bother to try anything. Hm, maybe he should stay on his knees, or what do you all think?”

“Stop fucking around”, Edmund sighs in annoyance and grabs the leash out of her hands, pulling harshly. “Stand up.”

It's on shaking legs that you manage to get on your feet. You're the same height as the king, but feel unbelievably inferior. Is it the collar around your neck, the degrading look in his eyes or the fact that you know what they're capable of that makes you terrified? You can't meet their eyes.

“This is humiliating, can you stop?” you hear Hedwig asks.

She's standing on the far end of their little line, a few steps away from them, with her arms hugging herself. Disgust covers her face.

“I feel nauseous just watching it”, she mutters. 

“Don't worry, Hedwig, we're just playing with him”, Silas smiles and ruffles your hair with his hand. “We're not hurting him.”

“Hedwig shouldn't take him”, Edmund says. “I don't trust him.”

“What do you want?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like a pathetic little puppy.

“What did you do with the list of names?” Silas asks. “The one behind the painting.”

“And where is my fucking painting?” Edmund asks.

“The painting, I don't know”, you say and meet Silas black eyes. “Your list was hidden on board the ship, but my contacts have found it. They're on the way to arrest everyone on your list.”

“Oh, are they now?” he asks deadly calmly. “And I suppose that you are still their shining Golden Boy thanks to that?”

You lower your eyes.

“Or did someone get put on an indefinite hiatus because they're a security risk?” Silas continues, moving closer, tugging ever so carefully on the leash. “Are you sure that you're their favorite? You never seem to have much protection, despite the threat against you. Don't worry, Golden Boy, we will make sure nothing ever reaches you. We will make sure you stay hidden.”

“If they don't want to give us our note, we won't give them their darling dearest”, Jerry says, shrugging.

You feel a lump in your stomach. Your contacts will never give over the note … and in that case they'll never give you. Wonderful.

A tug on the leash brings you back to reality. 

“It's healing quite nicely, don't you think?” Jerry asks, tilting her head to get a better view of the back of your neck.

“It's still fresh, it's nowhere near healing”, Doctor Kry says with his monotone voice, arms crossed over his chest.

Their eyes turn to your neck and you gulp, realizing that part of the pain isn't coming from your head, but from the back of your neck, easily mistaken as the brainstem. You lift your hand and try to touch whatever is hurting you. Hedwig picks up a pocket mirror from her pocket and hand it to you. You’re in disbelief when you see black marks on your skin, drawn in a strange symbol you have never seen before. The skin is swollen and tender to the touch. 

“What is this?” you question in pure fear. 

“We told you that you would be tattooed, didn’t we?” Silas smiles. “That tattoo is the symbol of my group. It’s somewhat of a trademark. Everyone who sees you will know that you belong to me.”

“I hate that you are the only one getting associated”, Edmund mutters. 

“Well, I am the only one with a symbol, aren’t I?”

“You are so self centered.” Edmund puts his hand on Hedwig’s shoulder. “As if we haven’t got one?”

“‘Self centered’, you absolute hypocrite”, Jerry scoffs. 

“I did not consent to this!” you shout angrily. “How could you just tattoo me when I wasn’t even conscious?!”

“It was pretty easy since you were, as you said, ‘not even conscious’”, Silas smiles teasingly. 

“Enough of this foolishness”, Doctor Kry cuts in. “We have things to do. The train leaves tomorrow morning and we still have things to do.”

Train? 

“Give the poor boy some food and make sure he sleeps”, Silas says. “It’ll be a long day for him tomorrow.”

They start to move towards the stairs of the basement, all but Hedwig who have went upstairs to get you a plate and Edmund — the man who’s holding the leash. 

“You don’t have to be here”, she says. “I can take care of him myself.”

“I don’t trust him”, Edmund mutters angrily and wraps more of the leash around his hand. “He knocked Jerry over when she was guarding him and — fuck it — she is tougher than you. I am not letting him anywhere near you alone.”

“Can you at least let go of the leash?” Hedwig asks. 

Edmund lets it go with great dramatic effect. You sit down on the couch with a thumping heartbeat. Hedwig sits down beside you, turning towards you. Edmund stands behind her, towering over the young woman like a giant, glaring at you. It reminds you of a lioness behind their cub. 

“Are you hungry?” Hedwig asks and looks down at the plate. “I’ve watched my maid cook ever since I was a little child but I don’t have much experience with it myself so I apologize if it isn’t the best.”

“I’m nauseous.”

“Then some sleep will do you good.”

“What train did he talk about? I’m not going on some train!”

“You are”, Edmund says, “and you’re doing it tomorrow morning. In a box.”

You look at him, baffled. “What?”

He looks at you with mockery in his icy blue eyes. “Nobody told you? You’re getting a first class ticket. I heard that they make those wooden boxes are quite comfortable nowadays.”

“I’m not going in some fucking box!”

You stand up in a swift, aggressive motion. Not only will they bring you onto a train going to who-knows-where, but they’re also stuffing you in a trunk? No shame. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“My father has a house on the coast, by the beach”, Hedwig replies. “You’ll like it. Hey, If you’re not going to eat, then will you please go to sleep?” 

“I will not be able to sleep. If I have to drink myself to black out, do you really think I will be able to fall asleep here?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You don’t want to see a sympathetic look from her. It’s their fault, after all. They took everything from you … and now she’s looking at you as if she’s pitying you. 

You refuse to sleep, refuse to even sit on the couch. It doesn't take long before the door to the basement stairs open and the sound of footsteps fill the air. You look up, seeing Doctor Kry walk down. In his hand, he holds a transparent syringe.

“I suppose that you are familiar with this”, he says and looks at the needle. “I thought that it was finally time for you to get acquainted with it.”

“Don't come close”, you warn him.

He's quicker than you've anticipated. Before you know it, you're tackled onto the hard floor. It knocks the air out of your lungs. Doctor Kry is stronger than you could have imagined. He doesn't look muscular underneath his clothes, and he probably isn't as muscular as Silas, but he is strong with firm grips. You try your best to fight against the needle coming closer to your neck.

“Goodnight, Golden Boy”, Doctor Kry says and finally punctures your neck with the sharp end of the needle.

He gets off of you immediately and you try to get up and run. You manage to get a few steps forward before your legs give up and you fall down on your knees. You start to lose your hearing, and your sight start to darken. Doctor Kry grabs your shoulders and pull you over to the couch. The last thing you see before it all turns back is his blue eyes staring down at you.

You’re not sure if you have opened your eyes. You try to shut them tight, then open them again. It’s just as dark. Your knees are pressed to your chin, arms folded over your chest. Panic rises in your body, suddenly feeling every single cell of your body and what it touches. Painfully aware that you’re squashed together in a wooden box. 

“Let me out!” you shout and try to bang on the walls, floor and ceiling. 

A harsh slap on the side of the box makes you flinch. 

“Shut the fuck up”, Silas voice hisses through gritted teeth, shocking you for being too close. “Do not make a single sound, whatever you do.”

You breathe heavily and crawl together. For these past months, you’ve felt scared … but never like this. The only thing you can compare it to is that morning when you ran around the Normandie with the painting tucked under your arm. Your heart has never beaten that quickly before. And here you are now, in a wooden box with a dog collar around your throat and a tattoo in the back of your neck. The leash is gone.

They won’t kill you before they have gotten the list, right?

You hear men's voices and suddenly the box jerks. Your head slams against the side and you groan, quickly biting your lip to avoid making sound. Silas will probably punch you if you disobey his command. You form fists. 

Whoever is handling the box does not care for it. It seems to go back and forth, up and down, with you hitting your head with every jerking motion. 

Finally, finally, it stops. The moving, the sound, everything stops. You breathe out, listening. Where are you? Can you get out of the box? You try to push the top of the box, but it won’t budge. Neither will the walls. With a frustrated yell, you kick and then, in defeat, sink down again. 

Silence keeps you company for what feels like ages. Suddenly, the ground under you start to shake and move. You gasp. The train!

It takes a while before the top of the box is moved. Bright light hits your eyes and you squint. 

“Good morning”, Silas smiles and pulls you up from the box. 

Your muscles are stiff and aching, popping when you try to move. Your legs threaten to give out. 

“Ouch …”, you moan. 

“Did you have a nice time?” Jerry smiles and claps your back. 

You look around, blurry eyes being met by a cargo hold. Silas and Jerry are the only ones here. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, stressed. 

“What do you mean?” Jerry wonders.

“What do you want? Why am I out?”

“Did you think that you were going to spend the entire trip in the box?” Silas asks. 

“Edmund said-”

“And you believe a single word that stuck up manchild says?” Jerry scoffs and grabs your arm. “Come now.”

They take you out of the cargo hold and into a thin corridor. Running along your left are cabins and to your right are windows. Silas opens a door and directs you inside the cabin. It’s a suite, and a gorgeous one a that. A king sized bed, couches, big windows, drapes and your own bathroom. Hedwig and Edmund sits on the couch doctor Kry is leaning against the window. Behind him, America swooshes past. 

“Here he is”, Jerry says.

“What’s going on?” you stutter. “What do you want?”

“We are not going to let you be alone in cargo hold”, Silas says. “We are not monsters.”

I have other opinions.

“We’ve decided that you are going to be by our sides so that we can keep an eye on you”, Hedwig says and smiles. “If you are in the cargo hold you could die.”

“You’re not going to wear the leash because that will cause people to be suspicious”, Doctor Kry says. “Yes, we are not the only ones on this train.”

“You will not talk to any of them”, Jerry says. 

“You will stay here in my cabin”, Silas says. “My second in command will be in Jerry’s cabin, so don’t think that you can do anything towards me. He’ll be just on the other side of the wall.”

Why does he have to be here too? 

Everyone leaves the suite but Silas. You sink down on the bed with your head in your hands. 

“Why do you do this?” you groan.

Silas sits down beside you. “You did this to yourself”, he says, voice weirdly calm. “You put your nose into the wrong business, knowing that it could put your life in danger.”

“It was my job.”

Was. 

“I still don’t understand why they sent you on that ship without backup … or any kind of protection at all besides that pitiful gun. Almost like they wanted you to get caught.” Silas furrows his dark brows and looks at you, unreadable hint in his black eyes. “Are you even sure if they liked you at all?”

This has to be some kind of scare-tactic. Don’t fall for it.

“Of course they did”, you mumble. “I had a high position, a good salary … they liked me. They did.”

“Are you saying that to reassure me or you?”

Silas stands up and breathes out. 

“Let’s go eat lunch, I’m starving”, he says. “You must be hungry too, I heard from Hedwig that you didn’t eat dinner last night. Come now.”

Silas walks out of the room, holding the door open out to the corridor. His words ring in your mind. Who are you trying to reassure?

“I’m not waiting all day”, Silas calls out. “You’re not getting lunch if you stay in there.”

You hurry to stand up and follow him out to the corridor, having to pass him on the way. The thin corridor is big enough for one of you. He walks closely behind you, peering over your shoulder. You’re led into a restaurant car with tables of four, each having seats instead of tables. The carriage is divided in two with a with a glass wall with open space where a door normally sits. Silas chooses one of these seats. 

“Sit down”, he says. “Now. By the window.”

You give him a questionable look before sitting down in the seat closest to the window. Silas sits down beside you, blocking your escape to the middle aisle. His second in command is already sitting by the table in the seat in front of you. Silas holds three menus laying on the set table in front of you, giving you one. 

“Choose what you want”, he says. “I have money.”

“I don’t doubt that”, you mumble. “With your dirty businesses you must make a lot of money?”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a small smile tugging on his lips. “More than you can imagine, Golden Boy.”

You start to look through the menu for things you like. You are, indeed, starving and head for a grilled salmon while Silas chooses a medium rare steak. When a servant is taking your orders, you look out the big window at the blurry obstacles whooshing by. Where are they taking you? You’re not leaving much, but you can’t bring yourself to start over. New York is not for you, not anymore, but you don’t want them to force you to leave your home. What will they do to you? You can’t give them the painting, you don’t know where it is anymore, and you don’t have the list of criminal names. You’re not sure that you will be able to be switched with it. You don’t have anything to offer them, but yourself … but why would they want you? 

“Pretty quiet today, huh?” Silas says. “You usually quite quick-witted.”

You pull your eyes away from the window and look at him. It’s almost comical, how a secret agent is having lunch with a mafia leader and his second in command. You have done it before, but under much different circumstances. 

“I don't have much to say”, you answer shortly. 

Everything in your body is hurting, which isn’t weird since you’ve spent the night crammed into a wooden box. Your broken head is not a help.

Silas converses with his second in command — a man you haven’t heard talk more than necessary. 

The food is served by a servant in a spotless tuxedo and slicked back hair. You thank him. It'd be so easy to let the words slip out of your mouth. A simple ‘help me’. The words are soft and rounded, it wouldn't be hard to pronounce them, but the fact that Silas and his second in command are sitting right here makes it impossible. The words are so simple. But as soon as he arrives, he disappears. 

“I've heard that the food on board is tasty, it better be”, Silas jokes and his second in command chuckles quietly.

He has gotten beef with grilled asparagus. You pick up your knife and fork and start to eat in silence. Silas is right, it’s delicious. Better than any of the food you have aten these last few months. It makes you guilty for enjoying it. 

“I have some rules, Golden Boy”, Silas says from beside you. 

You look at him. You are not a Golden Boy. He said that himself. Silas meets your eyes. 

“If you disobey us”, Silas starts, “by either trying to talk to someone, or come up with some stupid idea to get off the train, I will handcuff you to me, got that?”

Imagining being handcuffed to him, forced to join his every step, not have a single second to yourself is enough to make you shiver. 

“Yeah”, you reply shortly. “I understand.”

You let your eyes wander through the restaurant car, at the other passengers sitting and enjoying their meals. An older man is reading the newspaper while enjoying a bowl of soup, a mother and daughter pair are eating cheeses while chatting. How many on this train belong to Silas? He wouldn’t travel with only one man.

“I’m thinking about getting another car”, Silas smiles at his second in command and shoots a fork full of steak to his lips. “Any tips of a model?”

“One of those Ford models”, he replies. “It was good enough for Bonnie and Clyde.”

The news of the infamous couple’s death broke out in May last year. Some colleagues had been working on that case, from what you remember. For years. 

“I’m not Bonnie and Clyde”, Silas says and smiles. “But I’m a bit jealous of them. Imagine having a partner in crime like that. I mean, more than just a brother in arms, a love partner. Or what do you say, Golden Boy?”

You look up from your plate. Your vision has started to blur again. 

“Don’t you want a love partner, hm?” Silas asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Someone to back you up when needed?”

“I don’t want to answer personal questions.”

He exchanges a look with his second in command before smiling into his plate. “You’re shy, I see. Didn’t know that you were so cute.”

You ignore him. 

When lunch is done, Silas decides that it’s time for you to get back to the cabin. You get up, from your seat and scootch out into the middle aisle. You’re not sure if it is the moving of the carriage or your balance that causes you to stumble. Silas catches you by the arm. 

“That wine you had with lunch didn’t make you drunk, did it?” he asks. 

“No”, you reply and gulp. “It’s my head.”

“I see.”

You’re sure that it isn’t meant for you, but you can see how Silas gives his second in command a murderous look. Doctor Kry had told you that it had been Jerry and Silas’s second in command who had hit you with that glass bottle that night. 

“You should go rest, Y/N”, he says and places his hand on your back to guide you. 

He leads you back to your suite. The second in command closes the door behind him. You sit down on the couch, but Silas pulls you up again. 

“What do you think that you are doing?” he asks. “The bed is over there.”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you”, you mumble. 

“You are. Stop being childish and go to sleep.”

You’re pushed towards the bed. He’s quickly after you to pull the neatly fixed covers before you can change your mind. The mattress is softer than anything you’ve ever rested your back upon. 

“Sleep”, Silas orders. “I will get you for dinner.”

He asks his second in command to keep an eye on you. 

The gentle rocking of the train both soothes you to sleep and wakes you softly. You sit up and yawn. The second in command moves his eyes from the window. You can’t help but wonder if he ever does anything for pleasure or if he can turn off his emotions and needs whenever he wants. 

You reach for a glass of water on the bedside table and halt. After everything they’ve done, you wouldn’t be surprised if the water is contaminated. 

“It’s not dinner time”, the man says. “Back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“Lay down.”

You sigh and lay down again, listen to the gentle rocking of the train against the rail. Last time you spent a night in a cabin with them was when you were tied on the floor. You should never have taken that mission. Your mind involuntarily drift to what Silas had said and feel how your heart squeezes in pain. It can’t be.

Suddenly, the door opens. 

“Time for dinner”, Silas says. “Get up, you need to eat.”

You groan and pull yourself up from the bed. The second in command follows closely to the restaurant cart. One table can only fit four passengers. They have to separate three and three, and then you’ll have to choose whichever combination is the least bad.

Hedwig, Edmund and Doctor Kry … or Silas, Jerry and the second in command. You sit down besides Hedwig. Edmund is quick to have her change seats with you, so that you’re by the window and she’s blocking the exit out to the middle aisle. The girl smiles at you and takes your hand. 

“You look much better without that inhumane leash”, she says. 

“I think he looks better with it”, Edmund mutters and inspect his silver knife. 

She ignores him. “What do you want to eat, sweetheart?”

You shrug, telling her that she can choose for you. You don’t say anything throughout dinner, even though Hedwig tries her best to spark a conversation with you. She talks about the scenery swooshing past outside the window, the beautiful interior, how much she has missed you and how happy she is to have you back. You drown it all out to the point of wondering if her voice is all just a hallucination.

You’re barely active during dinner, only being able to think about your — former — job. Heart feeling unbelievably heavy.

“I have to leave”, you whisper to Hedwig. “I have to be alone.”

“Are you okay?” Hedwig asks worriedly and watches how you stand up. 

“I need to go.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She excuses the both of you from the table. You can feel the others eyes linger on you, burn right through you. You’re sure that Edmund wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut for once. Hedwig takes your arm and leads you back to the cabin carriage. 

“I don’t understand why they’re so afraid of me being alone with you”, Hedwig giggles and opens the door to Silas’s suite. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

At this point you’re not sure what you would and wouldn’t do. 

“Do you want to sleep?” Hedwig asks and walks over to the bed. “I can tuck you in.”

You lay down in bed and Hedwig makes sure that none of your body parts escapes the covers. She looks pleased with herself and lets her hand caress your cheek. Her hazel eyes look down at you with immense love and for the moment that is the only thing you can believe. That kind of look can’t be mistaken. 

“Are you tired?” she asks softly, continuing to caress your cheek. 

You nod, despite not feeling the slightest bit tired. Exhausted, but not tired. 

“I will let you sleep”, she says and kisses your forehead. 

You close your eyes, hoping that she will think that you’re asleep and leave the room. You need to be alone, but Hedwig is making it impossible. As long as she knows that you’re awake, she will cling onto you like a leech. She’s like a dog, a puppy. 

But she doesn’t leave. You can feel her sit on the side of the bed, and without opening your eyes, you know that she is staring at you with that same look of extreme love. As if you are the most important thing in the world. Her sun, her solar system. 

Eventually, she leaves. You wait a few seconds before opening your eyes and letting out a sigh. Lying down makes it hard to breathe. You try sitting up, but the pressure over your chest remains. You pull at your tie to open your airways, but neither that or buttoning up the first buttons on your shirt help. Your fingers claw at the window lock, but it remains in place. God, how badly you need air. You hurry over to the door and open it, exiting out to the corridor. They can get you, you don’t care. You need air and you need it now. 

You walk through the claustrophobic corridor in the opposite direction of the dining hall. You reach a door with a window. The rails run away from the train, towards the horizon. You rip the door open and find yourself on a balcony. Fresh air roams around you and you grab onto the oval railing, breathing in deeply until your lungs can’t take anymore, welcoming the pleasurable feeling of light headiness. You sink down on the floor with your back towards the train’s wall, watching the surroundings disappear further away. The sun is setting in the horizon, like in a painting. 

The thoughts return. Was everything a lie? Were you nothing more than a pawn? Why were you put on that mission? Did they know that you would be taken? Broken? Damaged? They didn’t bother give you any security or backup, and when you weren’t killed or taken, they use the trauma they caused to put you on hiatus and made you look at fault. You have worked for them since you left school, given them your everything. Did they want to get rid of you? Were you worth nothing more? Did they ever care about you?

Suddenly you’re aware of the tears running down your cheeks.

“There you are”, a voice sighs. 

You flinch and look over your shoulder. Jerry is standing in the doorframe, holding her hands on either side.  Out of all the people who could find you, why did it have to be just Jerry?

“Everyone is looking for you”, Jerry says. 

“Didn’t mean to”, you mumble. 

“You better have a good explanation.” 

She sits down on the other side of the door, in arms reach of you. The door closes behind her, leaving the two of you on the balcony platform. It’s first now that she seems to notice that you’re crying. 

“Oh, what’s wrong?” she asks in a sarcastic tone, clearly mocking you. “Feeling homesick?”

“No”, you sigh and look down at your hands. “Just leave me alone.”

“Can’t do, princess. You are not allowed to be alone, you know that very well. But sure, I can leave. I can tell the other that you have attempted to escape.”

Your hand shoots forward to stop her from leaving. “No, don’t say that!”

“Then tell me. Hurry up, princess, I don’t got all night!”

You sigh and rest your head back against the wall. She’s doing it on purpose, you think, riling you up to the breaking point so that she has something to punish you for. 

“Jerry, stop”, you plead and hold your head in your hands. “I’m asking you nicely. Don’t do that.”

“In what position do you think you are to speak to me like that? Do I need to go get the leash to remind you who you are? Hm? Is that what you want, Golden Boy?”

The name breaks something in you. You feel so stupid. Like an absolute fool!

“Don’t call me that!” you shout. “I never was a fucking ‘Golden Boy’! They just used me! And I just let them do it! Like the idiot I am!”

Your head pounds worse than ever. You’re afraid that it is going to rip out of your skull. You can feel how Jerry moves closer. 

“They never fucking cared about me”, you hiss. “No one does!”

“Now, who told you that?” Jerry sighs.

“It’s obvious! Just look at how they’re treating me! They wanted to get rid of me, that’s why they sent me on that ship, wasn’t it …?”

Jerry sighs heavily and runs her hand through her black hair. “Well, fuck … I don’t know what the fuck to say.”

“Be quiet, then.”

You don’t want to hear her ‘I told you so’ mantra. You’ve understood how much of an idiot you are, you don’t need her to remind you. She removes your hands and forces you to look at her. 

“It does not fucking matter what they thought of you, okay?” she says. “I get that they tricked you but you’re never going back there, so drop them. They’re not worthy of your attention. Just look at what a mess you become when you think of them! And I don’t want to hear that shit again, about no one caring about you. We have looked for you day and night since that last night on the ship!”

“That’s different. You know that. You won’t get the list or the painting. If they wanted me gone, they won’t trade me for it. I’m useless to you.”

She sighs frustratedly and runs her hand through her black hair again. 

“Fuck, I am not made for this”, she mutters and looks around for help, but the only thing nearby are the passing landscape. “Listen, Y/N, we could have done things a whole lot differently. We didn’t actually need you, alright? Not for business. Hell, we don’t even want the same things! Me and Silas are the only ones wanting the list. Edmund wants his painting. I don’t even know what the doctor and Hedwig want, but do you know the only reason why the five of us stay together? Because of you, dumbass.”

She grabs your head and holds it to her chest, letting you cry. 

“The term ‘Golden Boy’ isn’t just because of your job, it’s more than that. Don’t take it the wrong way. Now stop talking like that, it is getting on my nerves. Pity yourself to someone else.”

Silence. You listen to the rattling sound, the wind and Jerry's irregular breathing.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask quietly, emotionlessly. “Why did they do that to me?”

“I don’t know, Y/N”, Jerry answers softly. “Some people are horrible. There is a difference between people who's openly bad, and those that pretend to be good but are rotting on the inside. I can’t stand those people. If you’re going to be a bad person, at least stand for it.”

“I feel like a fool.”

“You are a fool, but it isn’t your fault. You did what you had been told, like everyone else.”

“I wish that I knew why they decided to let me go … I mean, that way I could have prevented it … or fixed it.”

“Stop thinking about it. I told you that you’ll never deal with those people again. You’re with us now.”

You sigh. Listening to Jerry’s heart beat makes you want to laugh at how hard it is beating when she has acted like she doesn’t have one. 

“Get up”, she says after a while. “We can’t sit here the entire night. It’s starting to get cold.”

You drag yourself up on your feet. Jerry takes your hand and leads you back inside. Warmth hugs you the second you reenter the thin corridor. She takes you back to Silas’s cabin where you find him arguing with his second in command. You catch something along the lines of ‘you hit him so hard he’s lost his mind’ and don’t have to think twice to know who he is talking about. A new punch in the chest. Does everyone view you that way? As a loser who can’t take care of himself after what happened? As a dog?

“Where have you been?” Silas asks angrily. “Wasn’t I very clear what would happen if you tried to leave?”

“I didn’t fucking try to leave!” you burst out, unable to do anything else beside matching his energy. “How could I when the train is moving at two hundred kilometers per hour?!”

“Yeah? What were you doing then?”

How dense is he?

“I tried to get one second to myself to try to think! My life is falling apart and no one is caring! Everyone is just mocking me!” Tears blur your vision. “Why is no one treating me like an actual human being?! No one respects me!”

Your knees give out. The carpeted floor does nothing when you fall. A few seconds pass where you’re left to sob in silence before a pair of arms wrap around you. They’re too muscular to be Jerry’s and the second in command would never touch you. It has to be Silas. 

“Get up, Y/N”, Silas says. “You need to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

He tells Jerry to get the doctor and she disappears out of the room. Doctor Kry comes in two minutes later. In his hands he holds an identical syringe to the one he injected you with before you got onto the train. Silas holds you down as the sharp needle pricks your arm. You can feel the foreign — yet painfully familiar — substance enters your bloodstream. Damn them, you think before the darkness swallows you, damn all of them.

You wake up with him sitting by the round table. He’s already dressed. You wonder how long that syringe makes you sleep. 

“Good morning”, Silas says. 

“Hi”, you mumble as memories from yesterday wash over you, like an ice cold shower. 

“I thought that you’ll stay here for breakfast. I’ve already ordered room service.”

Your eyes lay upon the silver tray with coffee, toast and waffles on the table, when you sit up. 

“Jerry filled me in about what you talked about”, Silas says. “I don’t want more of that, got it? You don’t get to run around causing havoc like that. You need to tell us instead of getting a melt down. Surprise, we might actually help you.”

You scoff and roll your head against the headboard. “You don't want to help. You just want to hurt me.”

Silas sighs. 

“Is that why I have tattooed my symbol on you?” he asks. “To hurt you?”

You don’t answer. How should you know?

“It never crossed your mind that I tattooed that on you so that you wouldn’t leave?” Silas asks. “Maybe because I want you here?”

“It doesn’t excuse what you have done.”

“Okay, maybe not, but ask yourself something, Y/N: where would you go if not here?”

You try to avoid his dark eyes. They burn right through you, confirming everything you have been thinking. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to stay. Nowhere where you are safe, nowhere where you feel like home. Not anymore. The only thing that kept you in New York was the pride in your job and now, if you go back, the only thing that is associated with that city is shame and hurt. With Silas tattoo on your neck, no one will want to have anything to do with you, for fear of him. 

Silas leaves you be. He doesn’t ask you questions, doesn’t try to get you on better thoughts or distract you. He lets you sit by the table with him, lets you feel your feelings. Lets you try to sort out the fog in your head. 

“How long do we have until we reach Hedwig’s house?” you ask after a while. “I’m getting tired of people.”

“Two days”, Silas answers. “You’ll like it. It’s far away from everyone and everything. You’ll be able to go somewhere quiet, where you can rest for once.”

The thought of resting makes you almost tear up. You can’t recall the last time you actually had a moment of peace. 

“I don’t know what you want, I don’t have anything more to give you”, you mumble. “I don’t have the painting, or the list of names, or any contacts. You can’t trade me for the list, and it’s too late now. They’ve already seen the names.”

“We don’t care about the list anymore”, Silas says. “When are you going to realize that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to … think.”

Silas grabs your neck and pushes your head onto his shoulder. You let him. And there it rests until you’re feeling better. 

You decide to get out of the cabin before it’s going to swallow you whole. You make your way down the carriages until you get to the lounge. People sit chit-chatting in their seats, drinking tea. You wonder how many of them belong to Silas, how many eyes he has on board. You do your best not to stare at any of them. Instead, you walk towards an empty table and sit down by the window, staring out towards the horizon. You’ve never been so … lost before. And yet, you feel better — just a tad bit. One day at a time. Things will be fine. Hopefully. 

“Good afternoon”, you hear a voice. 

You look up to see Edmund carrying a deck of cards. 

“ Have you finished sulking now?” he asks. 

You don’t answer. Not even these kinds of stupid questions deserve stupid answers.

“If you have, why don’t we play a game of cards?” Edmund asks and sits down in front of you. 

“Sure”, you sigh. “What do you want to play?”

“What can you play?”

“A little poker, I suppose.”

“Good. Let’s play.”

Edmund starts to sort the cards. He shuffles them skillfully. 

“What do we play about?” he asks. “What do i get if I win?”

“What do i get if I win?” you conquer. 

A spark ignites in Edmund’s eyes and for once, it gives him a human touch. He leans forward, over the table, and smirks. 

“What do you want, Golden Boy?” he asks. 

You think about it. What do you want? 

“I don’t know”, you reply and when he rolls his eyes, you add: “I actually don’t know. A bit more freedom, maybe.”

“Oh, as in?” Edmund asks. 

“Be able to walk around freely without anyone going insane, like yesterday. I can’t run anywhere on here, now can I? Just being able to go wherever I want on the train whenever I want would be a comfort.”

“Alright, I can work with that. And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

Edmund leans back in his seat and looks out the window, thinking. 

“You need to call me ‘your majesty’ or ‘your royal highness’ from now on”, he says, looking pleased. 

Any traces of humbleness is gone. 

“Haven’t I been humiliated enough?” slips out of you before you have the time to stop yourself. 

Edmund smiles boyishly. “Nope. Not nearly enough.”

There’s a small tug at your heart, and your first instinct is to feel offended … but you can’t help but feel relieved that, while the others are trying to keep you from breaking down, Edmund is still the same. 

You smile slightly. 

“Alright, let’s start”, you say. 

He’s a skillful player with sharp eyes. You wonder who he has trained with. 

“Oh, you’re an idiot, Y/N.”

Doctor Kry stands by the table, watching the table amusedly with his arms crossed over his chest. Edmund grins up at him. 

“Aren’t I smart?” he asks and nods at you. “This dumbass has to call me by my title — as he should have from the start — from now on.”

“The game isn’t over yet”, you remind him.

“Just throw the towel in and die a hero. That way you’ll have some dignity left.”

“No.”

Edmund shrugs. “Alright.”

You’re not sure how, but you manage to beat him. Doctor Kry laughs behind his hand. Edmund glares at him.

“Beginner's luck”, he insists.

“Good job, your majesty, now you've given him free roam over the entire train”, the doctor says.

“Don't get so fucking happy, doc, I can still have you executed”, Edmund warns him with dark eyes. “I don't care if Silas has you under his protection.”

Doctor Kry doesn’t seem affected. “It’s just a day.”

“This motherfucker did quite much in a day last time.”

“I’d like to see our friend Axel Ainsworth trying to do his stunts here.”

You rise from your chair and bid farewell to the two men, happy to show that you are allowed to walk away. Your last day on board won’t be too bad, you reckon. 

You take the time to sort out your thoughts and think. Sitting in the lounge, looking out the window with a glass of whiskey, listening to the sounds of the train moving and the other guests chitchatting. Your head starts to make sense, for the first time in months. Your heart beats in your chest. You hate them, hate what they did to you. How they played you. How they used you for bait. 

“Can I sit down?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts. Hedwig stands by the armchair in front of you, wearing a sweet pink dress. You nod. She squeals and sits down, looking giddy. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” she asks. “Maybe something to dilute the whiskey with? Drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good, you know?”

“What do you know about that?” you ask. “Are you a heavy drinker?”

“No, but Edmund is … and I guess that you can imagine how ha is when he is drunk.”

“I’m not drunk … but yes, i can imagine how he would be. He’s not the politest sober either.”

“He’s nice, in his own way.” She shakes her head, as if she’s shaking herself free from thoughts. “How are you feeling? I heard that you had some troubles. Do you want to share them with me?”

“No, I’m okay, I think I got it now. It’s been nice to sit and think … to deal with it myself.”

“What have you come up with?”

“That I don’t want anything to do with those bastards in New York anymore. If I had the list, I’d give it to Silas and Jerry. I wish I had written down the names.”

“You remember some of them, don’t you?”

She picks up a notebook out of her purse and places it on the table. A golden pen is connected to it. 

“Write them down”, she says. 

You stare at the notebook, questioning if you really should give away the little information you know. You would never have done that before. An old saying pops into your head — my enemie’s enemy is my friend. 

You pick up the pen.

[egg-emperor]

Does Eggman actually have dark red eyes? I wanted to hear your take on that!

Nah that was just an ongoing thing in non canon media. Likely due to how the US box art Eggman for classic games looked like he had black voids for eyes, then 90s shows seemed to take inspiration but gave him red irises, which the Archie comics then adopted- well pre reboot, as he was later depicted with white sclera there even.

In the games he's always had regular white sclera instead. Even before we knew his actual iris color, he was consistenly depicted with white sclera long before and it was always Sega/Sonic Team Japan's vision. Here I'll compile some times they've appeared in the actual games

This was an unused animation for the Egg Poison boss but it's still a sprite made for a game that depicts what they envisioned his eyes to be:

They should've kept it because it was very cute and funny, spilling Mega Mack over himself XD

But with that, it dates his white sclera all the way back to Sonic 2, despite what Western classic box art and shows depicted at the time

The Sonic Advance games and Sonic Battle have his eyes very comically pop out when he takes damage:

He's literally one of these keychains where you squeeze them and the eyes pop out, they need to make an official Advance/Battle Eggman keychain like this lol

The 2D animations like Sonic Mania Adventures are considerably canon as they take place after the game's events and are in an actual game now through Sonic Origins' museum. You can see them there too:

You can also see them again in the character sheet art that was also used as reference for the Origins 2D animation:

Trio of Trouble, which also should be canon as a prequel and promo for Sonic Superstars, also shows his eyes briefly:

The only time he's been shown with an iris color in a game is Sonic 06, where we finally see that they're blue

While 06's events were erased from the timeline, Eggman's eye color obviously wouldn't have just randomly changed just for these events and then been some other color after, so this solidly confirms what color his irises are

I really love the light gray-blue shade they went with specifically, suits him best for it makes them look cold and intense which I think works as a much better way to give him a sinister look than much more cliche red and black eyes

And a bonus which perhaps might not be the case but that one CD sprite has always appeared to give a peek at the whites of his eyes behind his glasses to me at least too:

There are also non canon depictions with white sclera as much as there are of him with red and black but I wanted to compile the appearances within actual games and tie-ins specifically. And as you can see, he has white sclera in all of them and blue irises in 06

Red and black is purely non canon. A lot of people have theories about his eyes changing or looking different because of non canon media but if he took his glasses off in a 3D modern game, he'd absolutely just have blue eyes and white sclera

I really hope they do at some point because they'd be fun to see on his regular model outside of 06 and would look very pretty hehe 🩵 I love to imagine them all the time and I'm very happy that they're the canon look because they're the best!

[thebiggerbear]

I absolutely adored this!!! Ever since I came across this I have been wanting to read it and I was not disappointed!!! I LOVED Jessica Rabbit when the movie came out and always wanted to be her but then when I rewatched the film when I was a little older, I went

"Oh!" Lol, so she's been a crush of mine for a very long time and I was beyond excited to come across your story.

Her eyes scanned the room until they found her—Jessica Rabbit, the stunning redhead, sitting at the bar, a vision of elegance and allure in her form-fitting, glittering red dress.

I love how aesthetically pleasing the visual is that you give us of her because it is so on point!!!

She slid off the barstool with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly and met her halfway, wrapping her arms around Y/N in a warm, welcoming embrace. “Hey, you,” Jessica purred, her voice like honey. “I’ve missed you.” Y/N wrapped her arms around Jessica’s waist, pulling her close. “I’ve missed you too,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Jessica’s temple. “You look amazing.” Jessica chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “You’re not so bad yourself, Y/N.”

Perfect greeting!!! I wish I knew of a more eloquent way to explain the feelings I got reading this scene. I literally experienced what Y/N was feeling, down to the physical sensations, but without the beautiful redhead in front of me. 😭 Flawlessly written!!!

Before Y/N could respond, their drinks arrived. Y/N took a sip of her whiskey, savoring the burn as it went down. Jessica opted for a martini, elegant and refined, just like her. They talked for a while, sharing stories and laughing together. Y/N loved the sound of Jessica’s laughter—it was genuine, full of joy. She found herself getting lost in Jessica’s eyes, the way they sparkled in the dim light.

I don't think I can say it enough, the shape your writing takes and how seamless it fits to this character just absolutely astounds me (in a very good way) and makes the reading experience that much more enjoyable and pleasant. You really nailed this!!!

One evening, they found themselves surrounded by boxes, the living room a chaotic mix of Jessica’s glamour and Y/N’s rugged style. They were sitting on the floor, a bottle of wine between them, laughing over some old photographs they had discovered. "Look at this one," Jessica giggled, holding up a picture of Y/N in her teenage years, dressed in a band T-shirt and ripped jeans, her hair a mess. "You were such a rebel." Y/N chuckled, taking the photo from her. "Still am, in a way," she said, looking at Jessica with a playful grin. Jessica smiled, leaning in to kiss Y/N's cheek. "I love that about you," she said softly. "You’ve always been unapologetically yourself." Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. "And I love that you love me for it," she replied, brushing a strand of Jessica’s hair behind her ear.

This was such a cute moment that then flowed into a very loving and sweet exchange between them that just had me

A few days later, they hosted a small housewarming party, inviting close friends to celebrate their new life together. The apartment was filled with the sound of music and laughter, a testament to the love and happiness that now filled the space. Jessica was the perfect hostess, moving through the crowd with grace and charm, while Y/N played the part of the attentive partner, always by her side, making sure she had everything she needed. They were a team, a perfect balance of glamour and strength, and their friends could see how happy they made each other.

Beautifully written!!! I could see it clear as a bell along with how well they balance each other out and are perfect partners, just as much as their friends could.

"That was amazing," Jessica said, leaning her head on Y/N’s shoulder. "Thank you for making this so special." Y/N wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "Anything for you," she replied, kissing the top of her head.

And I would like to thank you for writing this and making it special as well!!! My younger self is floating away somewhere about a hundred feet above us, sighing happily with humongous heart eyes. This was pure fluff and sweetness and I just absolutely LOVED it!!! Thank you again for writing it and for sharing it with us all. You truly have a gift as a writer and you're an excellent wordsmith, my friend. I really hope you write more for this character or even this particular reader x Jessica dynamic if you ever feel up to it, I would LOVE to read it if you do!!! 😀💖💖

Jessica rabbit x female reader

Y/N adjusted her leather jacket, tugging at the collar in a futile attempt to shake off the nerves. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Jessica Rabbit a hundred times before, but every time felt like the first time. There was something about the way Jessica moved, the way she looked at her, that made Y/N feel like she was falling all over again.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the club. The place was dimly lit, filled with the low hum of chatter and the occasional clink of glasses. Her eyes scanned the room until they found her—Jessica Rabbit, the stunning redhead, sitting at the bar, a vision of elegance and allure in her form-fitting, glittering red dress.

Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips as she walked over. Jessica turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw Y/N approaching. She slid off the barstool with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly and met her halfway, wrapping her arms around Y/N in a warm, welcoming embrace.

“Hey, you,” Jessica purred, her voice like honey. “I’ve missed you.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Jessica’s waist, pulling her close. “I’ve missed you too,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Jessica’s temple. “You look amazing.”

Jessica chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “You’re not so bad yourself, Y/N.”

They pulled apart, and Y/N took a moment to admire her girlfriend. Jessica was the epitome of glamour and sophistication, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride knowing that she was hers.

“Let’s grab a seat,” Jessica suggested, gesturing to a booth in the corner. Y/N nodded, taking Jessica’s hand and leading her to the secluded spot.

Once they were seated, Y/N ordered drinks for both of them. As they waited, she reached across the table, taking Jessica’s hand in hers. Jessica’s fingers were soft, delicate, but her grip was strong and reassuring.

“So, how was your day?” Y/N asked, tracing circles on the back of Jessica’s hand with her thumb.

Jessica sighed, a contented smile on her lips. “It was good. Busy, but good. I had a photoshoot this morning, then a meeting with my agent. But now, I’m here with you, and that’s all that matters.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. “I’m glad you could make it. I know you’re busy.”

Jessica shook her head, her eyes softening. “I’ll always make time for you, Y/N. You’re important to me.”

Before Y/N could respond, their drinks arrived. Y/N took a sip of her whiskey, savoring the burn as it went down. Jessica opted for a martini, elegant and refined, just like her.

They talked for a while, sharing stories and laughing together. Y/N loved the sound of Jessica’s laughter—it was genuine, full of joy. She found herself getting lost in Jessica’s eyes, the way they sparkled in the dim light.

At one point, Jessica reached across the table, cupping Y/N’s cheek with her hand. “You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” she said softly.

Y/N leaned into the touch, her heart beating a little faster. “Yeah? What’s that?”

Jessica bit her lip, looking a bit nervous. “I’ve been thinking about us. About our future.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this, but she was intrigued. “What about our future?”

Jessica took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “I want to be with you, Y/N. Really be with you. I want us to move in together, to build a life together. I know it’s a big step, but I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Y/N felt a rush of emotions—surprise, joy, excitement. She squeezed Jessica’s hand, her own eyes shining. “I want that too, Jessica. More than anything.”

Jessica’s face lit up, and she leaned across the table, capturing Y/N’s lips in a soft, tender kiss. Y/N kissed her back, pouring all her love and affection into that one moment.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both smiling, a sense of happiness and contentment settling over them.

“I love you, Y/N,” Jessica whispered, her eyes filled with emotion.

Y/N felt her heart swell. “I love you too, Jessica. Always.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking about their plans, their dreams for the future. It felt so right, so natural, and Y/N knew that this was where she belonged—with Jessica, building a life together.

As they left the club, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of peace. She glanced over at Jessica, who was smiling up at her, and knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together.

They walked through the city streets, the cool night air wrapping around them. Jessica leaned into Y/N, her head resting on her shoulder. Y/N wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.

“I can’t wait to start this new chapter with you,” Jessica said softly.

Y/N pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too, Jessica. Me too.”

They continued walking, lost in their own little world. The city around them seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the two of them, together.

When they finally reached Y/N’s apartment, they took the elevator up to her floor. Y/N unlocked the door, holding it open for Jessica. She stepped inside, glancing around the familiar space. It was a little messy, but it was home.

Jessica looked around, a smile on her lips. “I can see us here,” she said softly. “I can see us making this place our home.”

Y/N felt a surge of emotion. “Me too,” she said, her voice thick with feeling. “I can’t wait to start this journey with you, Jessica.”

Jessica turned to her, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s neck. “Neither can I,” she whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

They spent the rest of the night talking, making plans, dreaming about their future. It felt like a dream, but it was real, and Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

As they lay in bed together, Jessica curled up against her, Y/N felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She held Jessica close, listening to the sound of her breathing, and knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered into the darkness.

Jessica stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “I love you too,” she murmured, a smile on her lips.

Y/N kissed her forehead, holding her close. “Goodnight, Jessica.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jessica replied, her voice soft and sleepy.

Y/N closed her eyes, a smile on her lips, and let herself drift off to sleep, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be—with Jessica, the love of her life, by her side.

In the following weeks, the couple's life slowly intertwined as they started the moving process. Jessica's belongings, previously scattered in her luxurious apartment, were now finding a place in Y/N's cozy home. The scent of Jessica’s favorite lavender candles filled the air, blending with Y/N’s coffee and leather aroma. It felt right, the way their lives were meshing together.

One evening, they found themselves surrounded by boxes, the living room a chaotic mix of Jessica’s glamour and Y/N’s rugged style. They were sitting on the floor, a bottle of wine between them, laughing over some old photographs they had discovered.

"Look at this one," Jessica giggled, holding up a picture of Y/N in her teenage years, dressed in a band T-shirt and ripped jeans, her hair a mess. "You were such a rebel."

Y/N chuckled, taking the photo from her. "Still am, in a way," she said, looking at Jessica with a playful grin.

Jessica smiled, leaning in to kiss Y/N's cheek. "I love that about you," she said softly. "You’ve always been unapologetically yourself."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. "And I love that you love me for it," she replied, brushing a strand of Jessica’s hair behind her ear.

They continued sorting through the boxes, talking about their memories and making new ones as they did. The night was filled with laughter, kisses, and the promise of a future together.

A few days later, they hosted a small housewarming party, inviting close friends to celebrate their new life together. The apartment was filled with the sound of music and laughter, a testament to the love and happiness that now filled the space.

Jessica was the perfect hostess, moving through the crowd with grace and charm, while Y/N played the part of the attentive partner, always by her side, making sure she had everything she needed. They were a team, a perfect balance of glamour and strength, and their friends could see how happy they made each other.

As the night drew to a close and the last guest left, Y/N and Jessica found themselves alone in their apartment. They collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but happy.

"That was amazing," Jessica said, leaning her head on Y/N’s shoulder. "Thank you for making this so special."

Y/N wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "Anything for you," she replied, kissing the top of her head.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each

[tolerateit]

Jen’s 1K Celebration!!! For @maimyoutoo

you are in love // new romantics // state of grace // ivy // my tears ricochet // the story of us // safe and sound // the great war

[floralstorms]

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

To heck with it--FragMem fluff

aka Happy First Anniversary to Fragaria Memories!

Apologies if OOC, this is the gist that I got of their characteristics. I hope you guys enjoy regardless!

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

It was looking to be another late night in the castle's library, but at least you had the quilt Romarriche gifted you to keep the increasing chills away, and small snacks and tea to keep your spirits up.

Actually, you never brought the snacks and tea: they were always there when you came into the library. It started almost a month ago and none of the librarians could tell you who left them there (or so they claimed). You had an idea who the culprit was regardless; you recognized the tea set and plates as the ones he reserved just for special guests. You didn't approach him about them, though, afraid that if you did, your fluttering heart would make it difficult for you to properly thank him.

Besides, you still needed to figure out what to gift him back in return for the quilt. You've considered an embroidery of a bouquet of roses, tea from another kingdom that you think he may enjoy, and a quilt of your own making, to name a few. They were good ideas, but now that he was providing refreshments, you thought the gift should be a little more refined--

You blink, refocusing on the form in front of you. You chide yourself for letting your mind wander back to gift ideas and him. You have forms to finish and a bed to fall into, now isn't the time!

With a huff, you reread the paragraph and adjust the quilt over your shoulders. Your fingers run over the stitching and feel the soft texture of the fabric. Even if it's been months already, you still appreciate the craftsmanship of the quilt and you are thankful for the comfort it brings.

You know what, perhaps you should make a quilt after all; you aren't as skilled as the older needle-workers, but you're pretty good at the craft. You just need to figure out what patterns he likes, maybe you can casually bring it up the next time you two chat. While you're at it, you should thank him for the refreshments. He's so thoughtful, and you really should have told him you appreciate them when they started appearing.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the paperwork, your sleepy mind further wanders to him and plans for the quilt.

It isn't long before you quietly doze off.

You're not sure how long you were asleep, but when you become conscious, you realize a few things:

One, you're being carried by someone.

Two, you're snuggling against this person, who is so warm and whose arms feel safe to be in.

Three, there's a faint perfume of roses, tea, and a certain sweet something that altogether is unique to one person.

Romarriche.

Romarriche is carrying you.

You try to keep calm and be still. If you are still dreaming, you don't want to wake up quite yet.

After a few seconds, he stops to open a door and the familiar scent of the scented candle you burned earlier greets your nose. He's brought you to your room.

You feel yourself being laid on your bed, legs hanging over the edge, and your shoes carefully taken off. He lifts you up and puts you down again so that you're lying completely on the mattress, and your heart flutters at how he does it so effortlessly. The blankets are pulled up to your chin and gentle hands tuck you in. All the while, Romarriche whispers to the supposedly sleeping you.

"I deeply admire you for your dedication to doing excellent work and wanting to help wherever you can. I just wish there was a way where you wouldn't have to push yourself to exhaustion."

You feel strands of your hair being brushed away from your face. His fingers lightly touch your cheek and linger there.

"I feel that every time we meet, the bags under your eyes get deeper, and I cannot help but be more worried. I do remember what you told me that night, but I also remember you nearly falling asleep into your lunch just last week and again three days ago."

He sighs. "I want you to know that your coworkers and I would be more than willing to share your burden. You wouldn't need to stay later than usual that way."

His perfume gradually becomes stronger. "I hope that somehow, my words can reach you in your dreams. I dearly care about you and wish for you better health."

Something soft touches your forehead; it doesn't get past being feather light. It's there for just a second, then it's gone along with his scent.

"No," you hear him whisper to himself, "I mustn't. It would be improper of me to assume they would feel. . ."

Hang on, that tone in his voice. It couldn't be longing, could it?

He sighs again, then says with a smile in his voice, "Have sweet dreams, dearest."

Once he leaves, you open your eyes and think about what just happened. You clench your hands and internally scream.

Romarriche cared about you this much?! Did he know that you appreciate him and that you really like him?!

A realization hits you that makes your face warm up.

That feather-light touch on your forehead. . .

"It would be improper of me to assume they would feel. . ."

". . . dearest. . ."

He was in the process of kissing your forehead and stopped because he didn't know if you felt the same towards him.

Romarriche liked you.

You smack a hand over your now burning hot face. Great Strawberry King, you really need to work on that quilt ASAP!

. . . And tell him that you like him back.

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

You look forward to harvesting the newest species of apples, so much so that you're sure the horses would roll their eyes if they could whenever you gush about it. You can't help it! You just love seeing how well the apples grew, and tasting one and thinking about the potential dishes you can make.

Stepping outside, you take in a deep breath of the fresh morning air and smile. The sun is just on the verge of peeking over the horizon and the autumn chill lightly bites your cheeks. You notice some farmers climbing into a wagon, likely coming back from the kitchen after delivering vegetables and apples for this morning's breakfast, and you wave to them. They wave back, then head on to their side of the field.

Your fellow harvesters won't arrive until a little later, so you decide to meander around.

You pass rows of various fruits and take a quick look at a patch of ripe pumpkins. Your lips immediately lift into a smile as you remember a certain Fragaria helping the farmers plant the seeds and attentively listening to their talks about pumpkins.

He was cute and had a very bright personality, was proud and had faith in the goodness of everyone he met. You two would have small chats at random times throughout the day, but nothing more beyond that, what with his knightly duties and your tending to the farm and the livestock keeping the two of you busy. You'd really like to get to know him better.

You look up every so often at the sky for incoming warm shades and you rub your hands together or lift the collar of your coat a little higher. You don't mind the autumn weather, but it does get a bit too chilly for your liking. It still doesn't stop you from getting up early and being the first to be ready to harvest.

You suddenly hear your name being called. Startled, you turn around.

Jogging down the dirt path, white and red uniform visible in the early gray morning, is Hallritt. He stops before you, panting, and his cheeks are pink from the autumn chill and the small excursion. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you, but I wanted to give you something."

He holds up a red knitted scarf and your eyes widen.

"It's just, I've noticed that you keep hunching into your coat and I get worried that you might catch a cold. So, I learned how to knit a scarf," Hallritt explains bashfully. "I'm sorry if it's a little crooked in some parts. I've never knitted before and practiced before making this, but. . . I hope you still like it."

You're silent as your mind registers his words; he slowly starts to become worried. But before he could say anything, you smile and say, "I haven't seen you a lot as usual and thought it was just my imagination. I appreciate this, Hallritt!"

Your fingers brush against his when you accept the scarf. In that brief moment, you feel a tiny spark that makes your heart skip a beat. You don't notice that Hallritt's eyes had widened a little, feeling the same tiny spark.

You wrap it around your neck and immediately laugh. Hallritt joins with his own. "I didn't realize the scarf would be this long," he says.

"No, it's perfect! Look, I can wrap my hands around the ends!" You proceed to demonstrate this.

"That's a relief!"

Somewhere beyond the rows, you hear horses fussing, and the sky starts to take on a pink tint. "I have to get going soon. Will I see you at the stables later?"

"Yeah! I have to apologize to Blossom for not visiting her for so long. I hope she can forgive me if I bring her treats."

"For someone like you, I'm sure she will."

"Wow, you really love that scarf," your friend observes.

"How could I not? It's so soft and warm!" you say, nuzzling against the yarn.

"You sure it's not just because the knight gave it to you himself?" they tease.

Your cheek warm up and you narrow your eyes at your friend. "No!"

After a beat of silence, you quietly say, "It was nice of him to make this for me, though. I've been racking my brain for the past hours settling on a gift."

You sit back against the barrier of the cart, staring at the clear sky. "I'd like to make him something with apples, but there's just so many things I could do!"

Your friend considers something. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen you try the apples we just harvested."

You blink and sit up, knowing your friend is a fellow baker. "Have you?"

They smile. "I think the taste will speak for itself."

Hallritt had been looking forward to chatting with you again, so he was a little disappointed when you weren't around as much as usual. Was this how you felt when he got preoccupied with knitting the scarf? He feels bad now.

"Hallritt!" To his pleasant surprise, it's you. The scarf is wrapped twice around your neck, and the ends flutter a little behind you as you jog towards him.

"Hey!" you greet, stopping before him. "I was hoping you'd be here. Here, I want to give you something."

You hold up a small casserole dish wrapped in cloth.

"Oh, you didn't have to!" he says.

You shake your head, insisting. "It's thanks for the scarf."

When he accepts it, he could feel the warmth of whatever you had made. "I made it with the newest species of apples. It took me a little bit to come up with the recipe, but I did it!" you explain proudly.

"You came up with the dish from scratch? Now I really can't wait to try! At the same time, it makes me relieved. I've been wondering where you've been for the past weeks."

"Sorry about that, Hallritt." You shrug and smile apologetically.

"There's no need!" A thought comes to him. "Why don't we go to the parlor and share this? I've. . . kind of missed talking with you."

Your cheeks heat up. "Honestly, me too. But you don't have to share, though! If anything, I'd like to hear what you think of them."

And so the two of you spent a cozy afternoon in the parlor, catching up and laughing, and unknowingly moving closer together.

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

You yelp again for what seemed like the umpteenth time and manage to catch yourself against a brick wall. You're usually good at handling icy paths, but you've never gone down this street before and it is ridiculously slippery. You wouldn't be surprised if this street has an associated notoriety.

"Are you all right?" Tuxam asks, just three paces in front of you. You are impressed and envious over how he hasn't slipped even once during the walk. You think his cane might be helping, but it doesn't take away your feeling.

"Yes, just almost slipped again is all," you say, shaking your head and steadying yourself.

". . . Here." You look up from the sidewalk. He's offering his arm to you. "H-hold on to my arm."

He clears his throat, embarrassed by the stutter, and the dust of pink on his cheek darkens. He's still avoiding eye contact as he says, "As a gentleman, it would be unforgivable if I continued to allow the risk of you falling and hurting yourself. It is already improper that I let you slip the past few times already. O-of course, you do not need to accept my help, if you aren't comfortable!"

Like any other citizen of this kingdom, you are aware of Tuxam's fixation of being a proper gentleman. While there are moments where you think he is going overboard, you think it is charming how he insists on holding open the door for the next person or pulling out a chair for you to sit in. Or maybe you just think the Fragaria himself is cute--ahem!

You shake your head and smile. "No, it's fine! I appreciate it."

He's stiff and a little awkward as you both loop arms, but as you two continue down the sidewalk, he relaxes--just a little bit. This is much closer than the two of you have ever been; the other time was when he readjusted your tie and had unknowingly stood very close. You wouldn't forget how embarrassed he got over invading your personal space, but you didn't mind. . . mostly because you yourself were preoccupied by your racing heart.

You spy the two of you in a reflective glass pane. You had a pleased but shy smile on your face while Tuxam had a straight but blushing face. Altogether, you two looked like a couple heading for their first outing.

Whoosh!

"Whoa!"

A gust of cold wind suddenly smacks into you two. Immediately, you duck and huddle closer against Tuxam, your free hand gripping his sleeve. Once it passes, you look to him.

"Sorry about that, I was--Tuxam, are you okay?"

His face is bright red and he seems to be on the verge of exploding. He shakes his head. "Yes, I'm all right. You don't need to trouble yourself over me. Are you all right?"

"Yes, just surprised is all. Oh, your hat's a little crooked. Here, let me fix it."

You unlink your arms and adjust the hat accordingly. You then notice his bow tie is crooked as well and begin to carefully fix it. All the while, Tuxam is quiet. Another wind comes, but it's significantly calmer and causes loose snow from building roofs to fall.

He can't stop staring at you. He thought of you as perfection when the two of you first met, and being able to properly see your face, he was well reminded of it. The backdrop of lightly falling snow makes the scene somehow more beautiful.

You eventually notice his staring and realize how close your faces are. Your cheeks heat up. "I'm sorry, am I standing too close?"

He blinks, cheeks heating up as well. "Ah, no! I was just. . ." He falters for a moment, then collects himself. "Thank you for fixing my appearance. It would have been improper if it continued to appear unruly."

You smile in response. "Of course, Tuxam. Shall we continue walking?"

He agrees. When the two of you link your arms again, he's a little less stiff than before.

A few paces down the sidewalk, he speaks up. "If you need to hold onto me with both hands, you may. Your safety and comfort are important, and it wouldn't do if I ignored those."

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

You remind him of the poems he read about the the spring and summer breezes. Warm and refreshing, and a singing voice that carries beautifully across the field or a room with an open window. Sometimes, the breeze that is you turns into a dizzying wind full of anxieties. He's more than happy to listen to whatever is on your mind, and for that, you're forever grateful.

You try to repay him for being so patient and willing to listen to your anxious thoughts, but he waves them off. You accompanying him on his traverses into the nearby fields is more than enough.

It's something the two of you do sometimes after all the work is done, if the sun is shining brightly and Puruth is in the mood to look for four leaf clovers. Sometimes you bring your lyre to get his opinion on a work in progress or to have something to fiddle with. There are moments where you even come up with a poem or random composition on the spot.

The latter scenario isn't that rare, not when he looks right at home in a sunny flower field. You'll often see Puruth standing in the middle of ankle-height grass, staring at the distance with a relaxed smile, while the sun casts its golden light on him and turns him into an enchanting prince.

You think Puruth has caught on that some of your sporadic poems and compositions are inspired by him. You also think he's aware that you're aware some of the poems he writes himself are inspired by you.

Neither of you seem to want to point it out, but if the glint in his eyes are anything to go by and if he understands the glint in yours, this arrangement is just fine. It's basically a fun little open secret between the two of you, one that you hope lasts for a long time.

The gentle rustle of leaves. The smell of dirt and a tinge of lavender in the passing breeze. You open your eyes to the sleeping face of Puruth just a small step away from you. He's facing you, and you wonder if he had fallen asleep while watching over you. It wouldn't be the first time.

In the hour before you fell asleep, the two of you climbed up a small hill and sat beneath one of the trees at its top. There, he read poems from a book he borrowed from the town's library and the two of you chatted about them. You vaguely remember a poem about dandelions and thinking how nice it was to listen to his voice and how comfortable the grass felt.

The book now sits between the two of you; a ladybug was making its way across the cover. Surely Puruth wouldn't mind if you looked through to see what other poems were there.

You sit up--and that's when you discover something that makes you chuckle.

Three-leaf clovers have been stuck through the buttonholes of your jacket and the loops of your shoelaces. Puruth must have collected the clovers and stuck them in while you were asleep.

You pick the one at the very top of your shirt and realize it's a four-leaf clover. You huff through your nose, smiling. Carefully, you tuck it in his hair--then stand up and head down the hill to look for a clover patch.

In just a few minutes, his hair is dotted with the little green flora. You didn't have Puruth's luck in finding four-leaf clovers, but at least he had the one he gave to you. You silently laugh at your handiwork and reward yourself with reading the book of poems, eagerly waiting for his reaction when he wakes up.

You hope afternoons like these last for a long time.

[cashmere-caveman]

Hanif Abdurraqib, it’s not like nikola tesla knew all of those people were going to die | Anne Carson, H of H Playbook | Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain | Franz Wright, Heaven | Toby Whithouse, shooting script for Being Human S1E1 | Franz Wright, Heaven | Erin Slaughter, I Hope My Salt Lamp is a Weeping Deity | Richard Siken, Straw House, Straw Dog & My Country: The New Age, Episode 16

image descriptions in alt

[harukapologist]

Milgrammies! The ever dreaded (at least by me and Haruka-fan friends) birthday tl is in less than 48 hours, Haruka's birthday tl. So

Expand on what you predict may happen in the tags if you want, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I put mine in the tags of the original post but in short, I think he'll talk/be talked to by Mikoto :3c

[maliro-t]

as a bona fide vaxleth lover i am more confused than ever about how they are portrayed on the animated series i'm not gonna lie 😭

[rogers-attic]

same energy

[bananonbinary]

hey i saw your tags on the mental health walk post and i have major Sensory Issues that can be exacerbated by being outdoors (and am literally allergic to uv lmao), if it's not weird can i ask what flavor of spd stuff you're dealing with? i have some Techniques that may be useful if we've got overlap

hm. that's a bit of a difficult question, because i'm still sort of figuring it out? i went diagnosed for most of my life (which is insane cause it turns out its pretty severe lmao), and even now that i've been diagnosed, the doctors/therapists i've spoken to about it either have no experience in the area or are worse than useless, so i'm sort of piecing it together all on my own here.

the main obstacle for Outside is the sun. i don't LOVE all the other uncontrollable Stuff out there (wind, temperature, bugs, etc), but i can manage it okay. meanwhile i hate almost any light at all, and spend a lot of time in my room with the lights off and the curtain drawn, on my computer with a yellow light filter. i can hang out in the rest of the house without a problem as long as i can return to my dark room when i need it, but to go outside on a sunny day for more than like 10 minutes results in a full meltdown and often physical illness just in case i missed the memo that my brain Did Not Like It. i mean, i do it, because it's always worth it, but it takes like a whole week at least to claw my way back to my baseline again.

i would love to hear about your techniques even if you don't think they're very applicable, like i said i'm sort of in the dark about "normal" coping and treatment for the whole condition. my current coping techniques consist of a weighted pack i wear around my neck that my mom made (which does help a lot, i wear it every time i leave the house), and taking benedryl until it knocks me out of an overstimulation spiral and i can pass tf out for the comedown.

[mochapanda]

rebirth is cute but holy shit is the plot so fucking messy. what the hell is even going on

[daiseukiis]

if i wasn't with my coworker istg that dumb bitch would've gotten kidnapped

[crunchycrystals]

last post i make about this for the next few hours i swear just like. do you see why i'm going insane over this tracklist

[nerice]

shiki/SHIKI (knk) 🤝 avery/garvith 🤝 ryuuko/senketsu (klk)

[imreszekeres]

ITS ASCHER DAY THAT MEANS I CAN POST ABT MY HUBBY ALL I WANT :3

I think so much about casual domesticity w him. Holding hands while doing separate tasks, talking out issues, going to the store and making little things fun and buying shit we don’t need. Getting wine drunk on a Tuesday night. Just being there with and for each other. Aaaaa ❤️