#i think romanticizing voice leading will work

[uyinq]

the weight of wanting ☆ owen taylor

part 1 — pray it away

[owen taylor x AFAB! reader] [somewhat slow burn] [religious trauma if you squint] [guilt] [shame] [yearning] [misty doesn't exist] [canon divergence]

❱❱ WORD COUNT﹕3,152

❱❱ SUMMARY﹕

You’re the new girl at Holy Grace; you're quiet, strange, and eerie in ways that no one can quite explain. You don't wear provocative clothing. You're not a flirt. However, the questions you pose about damnation, free will, and what it means to desire something so strongly that God doesn't seem to matter are the kind that stick in Owen's head long after they are said.

He believes you need guidance. Yet every time he tries to lead you back to righteousness, he walks away more uncertain of his own.

❱❱ WARNINGS﹕profanity, heavy religious themes, religious trauma, guilt, shame, eventual smut

❱❱ NOTES﹕ Small disclaimer!!!

This is a work of fiction based on The Starling Girl. I fully recognize that Owen Taylor is a groomer and an abusive figure in the film. I am not aiming to romanticize or excuse his actions. This fanfiction exists in an alternate context, reimagining Owen as a different character outside the film’s canon. 

Grooming in religious communities often goes unpunished. And if someone is punished, it’s usually the victim. If someone ever exploits your beliefs for their benefit, you have every right to leave and to call them out on it. 

Please keep that in mind, and feel free to scroll past if Owen Taylor as a character disturbs or discomforts you.

(divider from uzmacchiato)

★ parts ﹒﹒ masterlist

You arrived on a rainy Sunday morning in the middle of spring, dressed in gray and silence. 

No jewelry, no makeup. Not even a Bible. 

You just plopped down in the last row of pews, legs crossed, with your hands patiently clasped. You watched the altar, like you were expecting it to crack open and reveal the gates of hell. Maybe even Satan himself. 

Owen was curious. No one willingly switched churches around here. But you weren’t from around here. He knew that without speaking to you. 

He watched you from the corner of his eye, catching glimpses when no one else was looking.

During the hymn, your lips moved. 

But no sound came out.

When it was time to pray, you bowed your head. Closed your eyes.

But you didn’t say the Lord’s Prayer.

When the sermon ended and the congregation rose to mingle, you were already gone.

No handshake. No smile. Just an empty space in the last pew like you’d never been there at all.

It filled him with something like breath before a confession — shallow, aching, already too late.

He told himself it was just curiosity. That’s what good men feel.

The next time you show up at the church, it isn’t for Sunday service.

It’s for an outdoor charity event– the kind the elders love to fuss over. A bake sale, raffles, and fold-out tables weighed down with pies and prayer cards. The air smells like vanilla and old hymnals.

It’s not formal. It never is. But you come in a white sundress dotted with blue flowers.

Owen makes the connection this time when he sees you sitting at a table with an elderly woman, baked goods spread out across an old handmade quilt. 

“Mrs. Smith,”  Owen strides up like he normally would, hands in his pockets, as he greets your grandmother with a polite nod.

Your grandma lights up like a Christmas tree, smiling from ear to ear as she beams up at him.

“Owen, honey. You remember my granddaughter, don’t you?”

He does. 

“No, I don’t think we’ve met.”  He rasps back, and you look at him then. Really look.

His hair is a little messy, a little long– like he wasn’t quite sure what suited him. A clean stubble, but the kind of clean that wouldn’t last. His button-down is rolled at the sleeves, hugging biceps he usually keeps hidden away.

He looks like someone who used to be a boy, not that long ago. And he still hasn’t figured out who he’s supposed to be.

“We haven’t,” you finally reply. But there’s something in your voice. Something close to a dare.

Your grandmother laughs, oblivious. “Well, now you have.”

Owen gives you a short nod, like he’s being introduced to a visiting missionary or a storm warning. Something temporary. Something strange.

“Nice to meet you,” you say softly.

And even though you’re sitting, and he’s standing, Owen feels like he’s the one looking up.

“Where were you before this?” Owen asks, too casually.

“Nowhere interesting,” you say. “Not for long.”

“And you came here?”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You say that like you don’t like it here.” 

He raises his brows, not expecting the sass quite so soon. Then he shrugs. “I like it just fine here,”  He pauses, and the sound of children laughing cuts through the silence. “It’s just small.” 

You tilt your head, considering him like he’s a math problem you already know the answer to.

“Small isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Small means everyone knows everything about you,” he replies, hands still in his pockets. 

You reach for a lemon bar from the tray in front of you and tear off a corner with your fingers. Neatly. Deliberately.

“I think people only know what you let them.”

That lands heavier than it should. Maybe it’s the way you say it. 

Owen glances away, jaw tightening just slightly. A breeze picks up across the yard. He watches your hair move with it. Watches you lick a crumb off your thumb.

“I should get back to setting up chairs,” he mutters, half-turning.

“I’m sure you should,” you say, but it’s unclear if it’s a tease or an echo. You don’t stop him. You just smile faintly, like you knew he wouldn’t stay long.

And he walks away with a strange tightness in his chest– like he’s the one who just got studied, not the other way around.

That night, Owen tries to pray. His eyes skim across the words in his Bible, doing nothing but turning into gibberish in his mind. It doesn’t stick.

What does is your voice– soft and even. People only know what you let them.

He wonders what you’re not letting them know.

What you’re not letting him know. 

He closes the Bible.

Rubs a hand over his face.

The room is dark except for the lamp by his bed, casting long shadows on the wall. He doesn’t usually struggle like this. Not with scripture. Not with focus. But now his thoughts are spiraling backward, sideways, to you. 

People only know what you let them.

He lies back. Stares at the ceiling. Wonders if temptation always comes looking like sin. Or if sometimes, it just looks like a girl asking the wrong questions in the right voice.

The next day, he prays harder than he ever has in his life.

Its the middle of the damn week. Yet, here he is, kneeling at the altar like a man who’s sinned his whole life and plans to keep doing it.

You made him feel guilty. 

Owen Taylor doesn’t want for much. Maybe a pack of Marlboros and a ribeye now and then, but those are physical. Worldly. Things you could name and forget.

This is different. This is want with no object. Hunger with no name.

The kind that coils behind his ribs and makes him wonder if God can hear it– even when he doesn’t say it out loud.

He bows his head deeper.

Owen doesn’t like to pray out loud when he’s alone. But he is right now, words and confessions spilling from his tongue like someone’s slipped truth serum into his bloodstream.

Not neat prayers. Not Psalms or parables. Just want tangled up with regret, spat out in fragments.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers to no one in particular, pressing his clasped hands against his forehead as he lets out a frustrated sound. “I don't–I don’t want to feel this way.” 

He pauses.

Swallows hard.

The sanctuary is quiet except for the creak of the old wood beneath his knees.

“She’s just a woman.”

His voice breaks on that last word.

He squeezes his eyes shut like he could block the thought out with pressure alone.

But it doesn’t help. You’re there, in his mind, under his skin. 

But you’re there, too. He just doesn’t know it.

You slipped in through the back door, not wanting to linger, mostly because churches feel different when they’re empty. Too still. Too full of things unspoken. Or too full of things confessed. The silence feels less like peace and more like pressure, like someone watching you from behind the pulpit.

You didn’t expect anyone to be there. You just came to grab your grandmother’s shawl, the one she left draped over a pew the day before. You meant to walk in, retrieve it, and leave before the quiet settled too deep in your bones.

But then you heard a voice.

Soft. Strained. Familiar.

And before you know it, you’re standing there watching him confess his sins to God. It feels wrong, because it is wrong. You’ve caught a man in his most vulnerable, raw state. 

He’s alone, bathed in the faint yellow light of a single overhead fixture. His head was bowed, his hands clasped so tightly you thought his knuckles might split.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the empty church, pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead as if trying to block something out. “I don’t–I don’t want to feel this way.”

The words weren’t rehearsed. They weren’t even coherent. They sounded torn straight from the center of his chest.

He fell silent then, the quiet stretching until you could hear the old wood groaning beneath his knees.

“She’s just a woman,” he said next. But the way he said it– low and wrecked– made it sound like he was trying to convince himself.

You didn’t move. You didn’t breathe. You just watched.

And for a moment, you thought he felt you. His shoulders stiffened. His head turned slightly, like he’d heard a door creak or sensed something shift in the air. But he didn’t look back. Didn’t call out.

Instead, he stayed kneeling for another beat longer, then finally rose to his feet. Slowly. Like the act of standing took more strength than it should have.

You stepped back before he could see you, slipping into the hallway like a ghost; quick, silent, ashamed for reasons you didn’t want to examine too closely.

You found your grandmother’s shawl folded neatly on the back of a chair and walked out the side entrance without a sound.

You don’t think he saw you.

But you sure as hell saw him. 

A few Sundays later, Owen finds you sitting alone beneath the dogwood tree outside the church. You're flipping through a small notebook, not writing,  just turning the pages like you’re looking for something that you keep brushing past on accident. 

He almost walks past you. Almost.

But then you look up. That same hard stare. Still unreadable.

He clears his throat. “You always hang around after?”

You shrug. “Occasionally.” 

He nods once, shifting his weight awkwardly as he glances away. His jacket is tucked underneath one of his arms, his free hand fiddling with the edge of his pocket– unsure of whether it wants to go in or not. 

“What’re you reading?” You hold the small notebook up, the cover adorned in stickers you’ve collected over the years.

“Not a book. Just questions.” He tilts his head at that, taking a step closer out of curiosity.

“Questions?”  He frowns, that perplexed kind of frown people wear when they’re trying not to judge you. “About the sermon?” 

“Yeah.”  You reply, moving to your feet as you dust the dirt off your dress. Per usual, you didn’t wear anything revealing, loud, or flashy. It was another simple dress with long sleeves that stopped right at your knees. Enough fabric to keep you decent, but enough shown for people to appreciate. Enough for him to appreciate. 

Owen shifts, watching you stand, still holding the notebook loosely at your side.

“You keep a list of questions from the sermons?” He asks again, like he’s confirming the information. He didn’t believe it the first time.

You look up at him. “Not just from the sermons.”

There’s a beat of silence. The kind that feels like a long hallway with only one door.

He hesitates, then asks, “What kind of questions?”

You open the notebook, not because it’s what he wants, but because it's easier than making something up on the spot. You flip to a page without really looking, and read aloud:

“‘If God gives us free will, does He still get to punish us for what we choose?’”

Your eyes flick up to meet his. “That was from last week.”

Owen exhales slowly through his nose. His voice is low. “That wasn’t part of the sermon.”

“No,” you say, smiling faintly. “It’s what I thought about while he was preaching.”

You flip to another page. 

“Is wanting something bad only sinful if you act on it? 

He tenses at that. Your tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s not innocent either. It hits a little too close to home, and it makes his skin crawl with shame. It’s like you’ve flipped a book of his most recent thoughts open and you’re reading them aloud to him. 

‘Can you worship something you don’t quite believe in, just because it makes other people feel better?’”

That one knocks the breath out of him a little.

You’re not a believer. Or maybe you are, and you’re bitter about it. Owen doesn’t know what’s worse.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out at first. Then: “You think too much.”

You close the notebook, tucking it into your bag. “I think just enough.”

He’s not thinking when he reaches out and touches you before you can walk away, fingers dancing on your arm carefully. It’s not quite a grab, but it keeps you in place. 

There’s something in his eyes that gives you pause. There’s a flicker of something that wasn’t there before. It’s not want, or desire.

It’s fear.

He’s the one grabbing you, and he’s afraid? 

That strikes you harder than any sermon you’ve half-listened to in this town. His touch is featherlight, barely enough to stop you– but the look in his eyes pins you in place more than anything else.

You don’t pull away. Not yet.

He furrows his brows, like he’s thinking. Then he speaks.

“Have lunch with me.” 

The words hang there, suspended between you like a dropped hymn note no one quite knows how to finish. They don’t match the fear in his eyes. They don’t even match his voice, which wavers, like it’s still unsure of the sentence even after it’s left his mouth.

“Is that an invitation or a demand?” Owen pauses at your question, blinking once. He slowly removes his fingers from your skin. It burns, as if he’s branded you.

“Just lunch,” he says. “That’s all.”

You’re not sure if he’s reassuring you or himself. 

“Where?” You ask, and he purses his lips. 

“Wherever you want.” 

It sounds generous. Harmless. But it’s not.

It’s surrender.

Owen doesn’t realize he’s just given you the reins, but you take them up like he’s offered you control on a silver platter.

You chew on the inside of your lip for a moment, weighing your options out. Then you step closer.

“That old diner off Route 9.” Owen nods once, glancing off as he takes a half-step back toward the parking lot.

“Meet you there?”

The way he says it makes it sound simple. Easy.

But nothing about this is.

You nod slowly, your expression giving nothing away. 

“See you in a minute.” And then he smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it's the first time you’ve seen him show teeth. It’s unsure. Off-balance. Like he’s not used to handing his want to someone else and watching them hold it.

You don’t smile back. Not really. Just give him one of those looks that sits somewhere between curiosity and cruelty. The kind of look that makes a man wonder what, exactly, he’s agreed to.

Owen lingers like he might say something else, then thinks better of it. He turns and walks away, shoulders a little too tense, like he knows he’s already in over his head.

You watch him go until he disappears behind the church building.

Your coffee cup clinks awkwardly against the sticky table as you set it down, only because you’re too interested in the way Owen has his hands clasped and his elbows on the table, glancing off to the side like you’re not even there.

You catch him biting his lip, eyes shutting for a moment before he looks at you again. 

Like he’s trying to compose himself. Like being here, across from you in a place with linoleum floors and too-sweet syrup in glass dispensers, feels more dangerous than kneeling at an altar ever did.

“So,” you say, dragging your finger along the condensation on your glass, “is this the part where you ask if I’m saved?”

He laughs, the sound reserved and barely there.

“Well, are you?” He asks, his voice lost somewhere in the mug that he lifts to his lips. He takes a good sip of the bitter coffee, enjoying the way it burns his tongue. 

You give him a look. That’s the only answer he needs. 

He sets the mug down slowly, eyes lingering on yours like they’re trying to translate a language he’s only half learned. You’re not saved. You’re not pretending to be. And that unsettles him more than if you’d just lied.

“Why even come to church, then?” Those were the last words that should’ve come out of his mouth as a youth pastor, but he said them anyway. 

“People leave you alone if they think you’re doing the right thing.” Owen raises his brows at that, a bit surprised at your lack of shame. He wishes he could feel like that sometimes.

You go on, voice low but steady. “It’s not like I don’t listen. I listen. I take notes. I ask questions. That’s more than a lot of people in there can say.”

He doesn’t argue. Can’t. You’re right, and he knows it.

Still, he says, “But do you believe any of it?”

You don’t answer right away. Just trace the rim of your glass with your fingertip, as if the answer might form from condensation.

“I believe in the questions,” you say finally. “I believe in the good parts. Like taking care of other people and leaving the judgment part up to something bigger than all of us.” 

You glance up at him, catching the way he stares at your fingers. You stop tracing the rim of your cup, eyes narrowing in a silent challenge. 

A beat of silence stretches between you again. The clink of silverware and the low hum of conversation from other tables barely cuts through it.

Then Owen shifts in his seat, pushing his coffee aside like it’s suddenly too bitter to stomach. “You talk like someone who’s been hurt by it. The church.”

“I talk like someone who’s watched people twist something sacred into a weapon,” you reply, the edge of your voice sharp but calm. “Doesn’t mean I don’t see the good in it, too. It just means I’m not naive.”

He sees you then. For the first time, he sees you. There’s something vulnerable there. You hadn’t denied the accusation, only confirmed it. And that has a tiny smirk spreading across his lips. 

“You don’t scare easy, do you?” he asks, that smirk deepening just a touch. Not mocking. Curious.

You tilt your head slightly, considering the question.

“I’m not afraid of God,” you say. “Just the people who speak for Him.”

Owen leans back, exhales through his nose like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cross himself. 

“You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

You smile then, slow and knowing. “I haven’t done anything.”

He nods once, more to himself than to you. “That’s the problem.”

And for the second time in one week, Owen Taylor walks away from a conversation feeling like he’s just confessed something without ever opening his mouth.

Not to God, But to you. 

[kpoperotics]

Yeji's touch x Male reader

Yeji is your best friend, with benefits. She likes things slightly rougher than the typical romanticism. She loves taking your cum in her mouth.

You finally got back home from a tiring day of work. Yeji was inside the house behind the door waiting to see you after this long day. As you open the door you see her and she throws herself against you, hugging you at first but then taking a small step back to look at you.

"So how was your day?" Yeji asks.

"Everything was fine, thank you. It was another tiring day." You answer.

"Mmm I'm glad" She says. Her hands are already undoing your zip.

"So.. now that you're at home I can finally have you all for myself" Yeji says, her hands massaging your balls softly.

"You go straight today.." you say softly"

"I do" Yeji says. She then takes your hand and leads towards the couch, letting you sit. Once you're sat, she takes off your pants, running her hands on your hardening shaft.

"I want you so bad" Yeji moans, her voice breathy as she gets more and more turned on.

"Then, don't waste anymore time" You answer, and as those words leave your lips, she doesn't hesitate to take off your underwear too, letting your already hard length show up.

She takes it in her hands, stroking you softly yet passionately. She lets you feel her touch on you. She keeps going for a little, just enough to get more aroused, as well as wet.

"I'ma make you cum in my mouth today" Yeji says before taking the tip of your cock in her mouth, her lips hovering around your tip.

She slowly moves, up and down, in and out, nice and slow. At first.

Then, she starts taking you slightly faster but deeper, needing to feel you more in her mouth. You can tell she's been waiting for this for the whole day, and now she has you all for herself.

She bobs her head up and down on your cock and she moans while taking it, her moans sending you more shivers down your spine.

Yeji takes confidence with your big cock and her hands are now on your balls, massaging them just like earlier. Her mouth works on your cock tirelessly, up and down smoothly. She loves the taste of your shaft in her mouth.

She pulls away for a while from your cock, during that, she works on your balls, sucking each of them greedily, just as good as she was doing on your cock.

Yeji takes your balls in her mouth and suck on them eagerly, unable to stop tasting you. Some slurping sound escapes her mouth.

She then leaves your balls to take your length back into her mouth, sucking harder this time, not deeper but surely with more determination to have your cum on her tongue. She can't really wait to taste you, she wants you to cum in her mouth so bad.

Her effort is obvious, she's so determined and the sight of your best friend sucking your cock is too mesmerizing for you to resist. So you're undecided whether to let go and pump everything you've got in her mouth, or let her suck your cock some more.

You don't even have the time to think about it, even because your mind is clouded with pleasure and you can't think straight.

You're cumming, you're cumming so hard in her mouth. She gasps, moans loudly and rolls her eyes back as she feels your warm sticky fluid running down her throat.

She swallows every single drop of your essence, pulling away once you're done cumming.

"Wow, I made you cum pretty much, huh?" Yeji teases.

"You did-" You answer, still unable to think completely straight.

...The rest of the night it's you and her sleeping together after your tiring day.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Unpopular Synastry Opinions (From the Voice of Pain)

You don’t have to agree. This is my intuitive perspective.

• One bad aspect in synastry can absolutely ruin a connection. Imagine adding too much baking soda to your cookies—“but it’s just one ingredient,” they say. And yet, the entire batch turns out bad. It’s not just free will. Most relationships have a 99% chance of flopping.

• Squares in synastry bring passion. But let’s not romanticize that. Passion can lead to anger, obsession, control issues, and using physical intimacy as a bandage. If squares in a birth chart can symbolize childhood struggles and internal conflict, why pretend they’re magical in relationship charts?

• Oppositions are said to offer growth. But how do opposites truly grow together? Ever met two people with fundamentally different beliefs who actually grew from their differences? Rarely. Most of the time, it’s arguing, debating, criticism, misunderstanding, or frustration. Maybe 10% of people are evolved enough to find growth in conflict.

• 8th house synastry is romanticized, but most people can’t handle it. It’s like a haunted house—seductive and intense. But only a few want to stay. Most are just there for the thrill.

• 7th house synastry might as well be called the Neptune house. It’s glitter and gold, idealism, projection, daydreams. You think of them constantly, imagine a future—and then you’re crushed by the weight of disillusionment.

• Saturn in synastry doesn’t feel like glue. It feels like weight. It’s not longevity—it’s where you’ll suffer, feel restricted, and repeat karmic cycles with your person.

• Moon aspects in synastry are overrated. What about Jupiter? If you can’t laugh, grow, or feel expansive joy with someone, then emotional resonance alone isn’t enough.

• 11th house synastry means they see a future with you, but often miss the beauty and tenderness of now.

• Most synastry charts are a mess. Add Chiron, Pluto, Saturn, and the Nodes—and you’ll quickly realize that relationships are often spiritual assignments disguised as love stories.

• I used to think Mercury synastry was everything. But what’s the point of good communication if the rest of the chart is full of tension? It just becomes a series of conversations that never resolve anything.

• Venus in synastry reflects love languages. Harsh aspects to Venus? You’ll likely feel unloved, unappreciated, or unseen. Positive aspects? They touch you in the way your heart understands.

• Chiron in synastry is dangerous. This is where I believe domestic violence can emerge. Don’t touch someone’s wounds unless you intend to be gentle. Deeply gentle.

• Lilith in synastry is volatile. Also a possible portal to domestic violence. If it’s not a positive connection, rage can emerge—primal, destructive, and terrifying.

• Mars in synastry? Often a planet of passive aggression, conflict, dominance, and surface-level sex. Not the kind that makes you feel cherished. More like a battleground.

• Pluto synastry is terrifying. It drags trauma to the surface and exposes your darkest layers. It can only work if both people are deeply healed. Otherwise, it becomes toxic or even abusive.

• People downplay Sun sign compatibility, but the Sun is your core identity. If someone attacks that part of you, it cuts the deepest. Harsh Sun aspects in synastry lead to competition, criticism, and the erosion of self-worth.

• The Vertex shows fated meetings. It says: you were meant to meet this person. The North Node, however, speaks of destiny with conditions—it says: this person can only come into your life once you start aligning with your soul’s purpose.

• Uranus in synastry absolutely sucks. It’s erratic, chaotic, unstable. Who wants love that strikes like lightning and disappears just as fast? Even positively aspected, it’s unpredictable. Sudden beginnings often mean sudden endings.

• Neptune aspects in synastry often appear in connections with emotional avoidance. One person is trying to offer love—while the Neptune person distorts it, disappears into fantasy, or becomes evasive. It’s a fog. The Neptune person is usually the one who avoids.

• Now you’re wondering, where is the love? True love in synastry blooms through Jupiter. Jupiter with Venus, Moon, Sun, and Mercury—that’s where love expands. That’s the laughter, the ease, the grace. Positive Jupiter aspects are what make relationships feel light, safe, and enduring.

• You know what kind of relationships are karmic? The ones with Saturn, Pluto, Chiron, and the South Node. Saturn says: you made someone suffer—now you suffer. Pluto says: you brought darkness—now you face it. Chiron says: you caused deep pain—now you’re feeling that same ache. South Node? You’ve shared a past life—maybe even a sexual one. There’s unfinished business.

• If you’re in a karmic relationship, don’t move in together. Not until healing has taken place. Otherwise, you’ll be living in a personal version of hell.

• Most people need healing. Without it, their relationships will be wrecked—by projection, wounding, avoidance, or power games.

• Sun sign compatibility is crucial for water and fire signs. Water sign Suns wrap emotion around their identity, and fire sign Suns are fueled by passion and ego. These signs need to feel seen and aligned to thrive in love.

• If you have a natal Moon in air or earth, don’t stress too much about Moon synastry. Focus on Mercury and Venus—because for you, love language and communication matter more than emotional resonance.

• People with Saturn-heavy charts need to heal before entering relationships. Otherwise, they’ll bring heaviness, pessimism, and emotional burdens into the connection. They will unintentionally cause suffering.

• Harsh truth: certain ascendants bring challenges in love.

• Capricorn Rising: emotionally avoidant and cold

• Scorpio Rising: guarded with a deep need for control

• Gemini Rising: inconsistent and hard to pin down

• Aries Rising: self-serving and dominant

• Virgo Rising: controlling and struggles with vulnerability

• Aquarius Rising: detached and unpredictable

• If you crave words of affirmation, look for Mercury-Venus aspects. Without that connection, you may never feel truly seen or valued through words.

• And please—consider element compatibility.

If you’re water-heavy, be cautious with air-heavy charts. Air will rationalize your emotions, detach from your depth, and leave you spinning.

Example: A Cancer Sun with a Scorpio Sun sounds great, until the Scorpio has an air-dominant chart. Then it becomes a battlefield of unmet needs and emotional misfires.

[ozzgin]

OZZGIN!

May I request an idea/imagine?

It is about yandere! mental asylum patient and psychiatrist! reader, who is very practical and strict regarding her job, takes no BS from others. But, for some reason, she has a soft spot for yandere! mental asylum patient. The reason could either be he had a hard childhood in which he had to do what he had to do, which brutally killed his father, who used to abuse his mother and sister, but when the father tried to sell the sister into prostitution to buy more alcohol, all hell break lose. Psychiatrist! reader thinks what yandere! mental asylum the patient did was OKAY, and she wants to get him out of the asylum. They love each other deeply and would do anything, so far as to kill for one another. If you can, make it as twisted as you can. I live for some dark romance!

Please ignore my request if you are not able to do it. I completely understand. Thank you in advance! <3

Oh my, this request hits somewhat close to home as I have a friend incarcerated for similar reasons. I'm pondering the logistics behind this context you've provided, since murdering someone won't necessarily land you in a psych ward unless there are other symptoms that come with it. And so I've taken the liberty to expand the character's profile if that's alright. (Conveniently enough I still have my psychopathology lecture notes)

I want to add, however, that this story in no way romanticizes mental illness! If anything, one may consider it an opportunity to reflect on the fact that so many people struggling with disorders do not receive the proper care for it, or only do so when it's too late. Furthermore a medical professional should never, ever behave like this and whatever is written here should stay in the realm of fiction!

Yandere! Patient x Psychiatrist! Reader

Featuring a patient that's pushing the boundaries of your work ethic and might even succeed.

Content/warnings: female reader, detailed mentions of mental disorder, violence, obsessive behavior, breach of professional conduct

You roll up your sleeve and check your watch. He should be here soon. Out of habit, you shuffle the papers for a quick case review, even though you already know all the details by heart. You carefully set aside the patient’s MMPI and WHODAS entry assessments, then your first interviews. Your eyes briefly rest upon the resulting report you’ve comprised: Schizophreniform Disorder (Provisional) with good prognostic features; Diagnostic criteria consisting of delusions, disorganized speech (frequent derailment with episodes of incoherence, echolalia) and comorbid catatonia. Responds well to antipsychotic (clozapine 25mg/12 h) with no imminent need for dosage increase. As it currently stands, he will be fit for proper incarceration in less than 6 months. Is it something you agree with? Not quite. You’ve presented your case many times and it has always been met with pitiful shrugs and dismissals.

The door opens and you fix your posture, sweeping the documents back into your drawer. “And? How are you feeling today?” You ask, flashing a professional, cordial smile as the assisting nurse leads the patient to his seat and prepares her leave. “My chest hurts.” The man answers in a low voice, glaring at the nurse. He taps his foot against the plush carpet, seemingly restless. “How bad would you rate it? Chest pain is a somewhat common side effect of your medication.” You retort, following the movements of the woman finally excusing herself and exiting the room. Once you’re alone, the man’s shoulders droop and he visibly relaxes. “It’s not that, you know it. When can I touch you again?” He pleads, despair twisting his features. You tense up at the words. “Behave yourself. It hasn’t been that long.”

It’s not something you’re particularly proud of. In fact, you might even call it one of your great shames in life. You’ve always been a textbook professional, perhaps even too strict according to your coworkers and most patients. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dared to imagine you’d violate the code of ethics by falling in love with your patient. But something about his situation stirred your sense of justice. Surely one cannot be punished for protecting their loved ones. The only criminal in the equation, at least in your eyes, was that joke of a father and he had it coming. So you found yourself wrestling against a blooming protectiveness and favoritism towards the young man brought here last month.

What would have normally compelled you into action had therefore been silently swept under the rug. Or even worse, you secretly indulged in it. A patient showing signs of affection towards you would instantly be transferred to a different psychiatrist. Yet you couldn’t put away the letters written by this one. Erratic, crumpled notes of “I love you” written countless times, pencil dug so deep it tore into the sheet. Bizarre illustrations that looked almost threatening. His elaborate delusions before medication was introduced, where he’d detail in grand narratives how you were fated for each other and nothing would stop him from having you sooner or later. You do not know what forces possessed you into this addictive plunge, but you’ve come to enjoy his violent, frenzied confessions. So much, that during one of the unsupervised meetings you let yourself pushed into the sofa as his hands tugged at your body in rabid need. It was so out of character that you wondered if it truly happened, though the bite marks and scratches on your neck and chest proved otherwise.

“Are they going to send me to prison?” He changes the subject and stands up, walking towards your desk. “Most likely. What you have is the result of a traumatic event, not a lifelong condition. Sporadic episodes that can be kept under control with antipsychotics aren’t enough of a reason to keep you in the hospital.” You press your legs together nervously and glance at him. “Can’t you just say it’s no longer working?” He suggests, kneeling before you and placing a hand on your thigh. “You know I can’t lie on the report.” You really don’t like it when he manipulates you like this. “Ah, yes, because lying is worse than fucking your patient.” He scoffs, annoyed. “Don’t threaten me like that”, you say as you turn towards him, but you’re stopped by the rough grip of his hand over your cheeks. “I’m not threatening you, I’m threatening everyone else. Listen, (Y/N), I’m not fucking around. I don’t mind pretending to be crazy if I have to. Will the meds still be working if I steal a shaving razor and cut the nurse open?” You try to open your mouth, but his fingers are pressed into your skin, locking your jaw into place. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not. Then I’ll never see you again and that can’t happen. You know that.”

Eventually he releases his hold, allowing you to speak. "I understand. Then there's no choice but to arrange your escape." You sigh, defeated, and he raises his eyebrows. "Won't that get you in trouble?" You chuckle at his statement. "Either way I'll be in trouble. You said it yourself. Might as well quit before I have to stand in front of the ethics board and have my license revoked." You'd prefer to keep the last ounce of pride if possible.

He sits on the floor and you notice his trembling hands. "Nervous?" You ask. "No. Just really happy. I'm not a bad person and you were the only one here to see it. But God, (Y/N), I'd kill anyone if it was for your sake. I can't wait to hold you whenever I want." He gazes at you as a smile widens on his face.

[nekomaniac]

Loving Them ~ Kita Shinsuke

characters: farmer!kita x gn!reader content: (sfw) fluff, v brief mention of kita's grief, thoughtful bf! kita, just kita being perfect basically idk he's so cute word count: 700 a/n: sorry for the brief inactivity, my job is taking up a lot of my mental space rn, but anyways kita time!!! i love love love farmer kita so much! i grew up in a VERY rural area and cared for a large garden, so i have an easy time romanticizing farmlife lol! i hope you enjoy! 🖤 requests open!

masterlist

⊱ ─────── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─────── ⊰

Loving Kita Shinsuke is rolling fields of green and sweet summer rain. It’s warm tan lines that lead beneath his shirt as he reaches up toward the loft, giving glimpses of the creamy soft skin that hides underneath. It’s hosing off the thick layers of mud caked onto his work boots before he has the chance to. It’s offering to help hoist up and pack the heavy sacks of rice, only to be shut down by him with a gentle, reassuring smile. 

Loving Kita Shinsuke is waking up before the sunrise to look out at the farm, sharing a steaming cup of green tea in silence. It’s Kita sneaking a spoonful of sugar in yours despite your insistence that you want to drink it plain like him, knowing you just like the thought of sharing his favorite drink; he knows the way your nose would crinkle up at the lack of sweetness if you actually had it completely plain.

Loving Kita Shinsuke is the farmhouse he helped design and build for you both. It’s the small details he put into it, the spare room dedicated specifically to your hobbies, cabinets that are the exact height you need to be able to reach the top shelf, and beautiful windows so that natural light illuminates every room. It’s bringing him a cold glass of ice water and wiping the sweat from his forehead as you ask him to take a break and sit with you for a moment, enjoying the sound of the cicadas chirping from the nearby trees.

Loving Kita Shinsuke is falling into a familiar routine. It’s watching your step to not dirty the floor as he wipes it down. It’s noticing the zokin he always has on hand is made from scrap fabric that you used to practice your Sashiko stitching on when you were first learning, the stitches bulky and uneven. It’s knowing he fished your failed project from the bin by your desk and lovingly stitched along the edges to make a cleaning cloth, wanting to preserve the evidence of your effort.

Loving Kita Shinsuke is knowing and understanding the subtle changes in his typically stable moods. It’s kneeling beside him when he presses his hands together in front of his family shrine, offering gentle support in the form of mirroring his silent prayers. It’s turning your head away as unshed tears start to form behind his eyes later that day as he busies himself with chores. 

Loving Kita Shinsuke is offering solace in the form of allowing him to think he’s comforting you. It’s asking him if he wouldn’t mind helping you with dinner, that you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed, knowing his love language is acts of service. It’s peeling garden-fresh potatoes for him to take and dice into perfect cubes, watching those same strong hands that run a farm work with a quiet, careful precision. It’s thanking him for his help, a blush blooming across your face when he catches you staring for too long.

Loving Kita Shinsuke is seeing the calm return to his eyes as he works to help you prepare dinner, a simple soup, one of his grandmother’s recipes. It’s the savory, herbaceous aroma of a meal meant to keep you healthy and strong filling your small kitchen. It’s setting the table with beautiful heirloom dishes and ushering Kita to sit before dishing him out a portion. It’s watching the subtle nostalgic light in his eyes as he eats, careful not to spill a drop onto the linen tablecloth you had spread across the sturdy rosewood table.

Loving Kita Shinsuke is getting ready for bed next to each other, a nightly ritual you both take great joy in even if you didn’t voice it. It’s Kita laying your pajamas out neatly at the foot of the bed, taking care to tuck and fold them carefully, treating all of your possessions with the utmost respect and care. It’s him gently buttoning up your shirt after sliding it over your bare shoulders, a small smile on his face as he takes comfort in caring for you.

Loving Kita Shinsuke is cuddling up to a strong chest as another productive day finally comes to an end. It’s the steady heartbeat under your ear, sure and unshakeable as he was. It’s a security blanket in the form of two muscular arms wrapped protectively around you. It’s eventually drifting off to sleep and knowing with all of the certainty in the world that your lover would be there when you woke up bright and early the next morning, just as he has been every day and as he always will be for the rest of your lives.

NEKOMANIAC © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, MODIFY, OR TRANSLATE

[simpfordemetri]

Felix Volturi Soft Alphabet

A - Affection (how do they show affection)

Felix was unsure of giving or receiving affection from you,everyone is small compared to him and the fact that you are human scare the shit out of him.

So literally baby steps,he knows how to be gentle but what if he accidentally hugs you to tight?

However he loves affection,he is all over cuddles,kisses,hugs and once you two overcome this insecuritie of him he will be all over you,lingerie touches and forehead kisses.

B - Balance (how do they balance you, work/school/life?)

He is the Volturi executioner so whenever there is a trial or a mission he has to be there,but i dont think the Volturi are busy ALWAYS 24/7,for me thats a bit of bullshit tbh.

He loves quality time and loves preparing dates for you,lazy days consist on you two talking abouy everything and anything .

C - Cuddles (do they enjoy cuddling? what positions?)

As i said,yes he does,he loves laying you on top of him as if he were a pillow,your personal vampire pillow.He doesnt really understand why you love so much having your head on his cheast as its hard but he lets you be.

D - Date (what was your first date?)

He loves taking you on dates,it could be any kind of dates,too fancy or a cute picnic.

Your first date were you two at night at the beach,you love the sea but because of the sun he cant go there until night,but to his surprise you were more than happy yo go at night.

E - Excited (how excited do they get when they see you/are with you?)

A big smile is draw on his face,he feels at home when he sees you and he wish you feel the same towards him,he wants to be with you 24/7,even if its doing nothing,for him its perfect just the fact that you are near him.

F - Fighting (what happens when you fight)

Hates fighting but at the same time i think he can be a bit stubborn,however he knows how intimidating he can be so he would never raise his voice at you,arguments are calm and he have the patient of a saint.If you screan at him he will just stay there listening until you are done ,his expression is serious and he hates when you do it because its honestly hurt him.

G - Gorgeous (pet names. what do they like to call you? what do they like to be called?)

He calls you by your name most of the time,he loves hearing your name and the way its rolls out of his tongue,however he knows how much humans likes pet names and he probably uses “love” too.

He doesnt mind if you have a pet name for him or not,but callim him “Fe” makes his dead heart beat.

H - Hi (first time meeting)

He were on a mission in America,the moment they were done and almost heading to Volterra he smelled your scent,running to drain you as your blood smelled too nice,just to look deeply into your eyes and everything “clicked” in his head.

I - Intimacy (how romantic they are)

He is but its not good at showing it you know?He is pretty awkward when it comes to romanticism,he is not used to it but wants to show you all the love he has to you.Its pretty amusing tho,he will be giving you a big bouquet of flowers but at the same time he is just handing you the flowers while looking at the floor feeling the most cringe person to exist.

J - Jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they react to you being jealous)

He is really jealous and is not shy about it,he is very vocal about how you are only his,the mere fact about you having friends its just hard to accept to him,his possesiveness showing in every action or word he says.

He can get pretty “snappy” when he is jealous and honestly you just have to deal with it.

K - Kisses (where do they like to kiss you/how often?)

Kissing you its his number one favorite activity,however your neck its his favorite place to kiss,he loves to leave tender kisses there and it doesnt necessarily lead to anything more.

He loves picking you up to kiss you,specially if you are smaller(which you are).His lips feeling so soft against yours and its just the perfect mix of emotions.

L - Love (when was the first time they said I love you or realized it?)

He knew it from the moment he realized he didnt want to drink your blood the moment he saw you,you were just a human but he wanted you alive,he wanted you by his side because he love you.

The first time he said it was by accident,you cracked up a dumb joke that made him laugh so hard that probably all Volterra heard it,just by how much fun he was having with you and how comfortable it was to be around you it accidentally slipped.

M - Moving in (when do you decide to move in together)

He took you with him,he gave you the option go if you wanted to,but you decided to stay with him so it was just perfect.

At first you did have your own room but it didnt take much to share room with him permanetly.

N - Newborn (their reaction to starting a family)

He is not too fond on kids and the idea of having a babie that could be easily crussed by him its not very entertaining.He does fantasize about having a family with you but that wont happen.

If he were also human he would totally 100% have a family,even a big one with you.

O - Open (how open you are with one another)

He doesnt talk much about his past because honestly he doesnt remember his human life,but he does share his private thoughts with you and expects you to do the same.

He is an open book to you,you are his mate and he doesnt have any secret keep to you.

If you dont open up to him its fine,but if something its really wrong and its clear that is bothering you he is not giving you the option to shut down,he needs to know.

P - Photos (what kind of photos you take of them/they take of you)

Dont understand technology because he doesnt know how to use a phone,i cant really see him taking photos of you with a phone,however he does have a camera and he hace plenty of pictures of you.

Does not like the idea of you having photos of him in your phone because if Aro finds out the anger of Aro will be direct to you and he does not want that.

Q - Quirks (what random habits do you have that they love or hate/vice versa)

He is fascinated by how your voice sound when you are excited about something,he already love the sound of your voice but hearing you so happy its really something else.

He really hates self jokes,dont joke about yourself,if you have to make a mean joke about someone please do it about Demetri,he will literally say that.

R - Recovery (how you help them after an injury/vice versa)

He can't get hurt,but i think vampires can get really tires mentally and he just need your cuddles,nothing more,he doesnt need a warm bath or anything,your warm against him its more than enough.

If you get hurt its really a different story,his eyes wide open looking at the injuries while screaming who the fuck did that.He will kill that person later that for sure but first he need to get you a doctor.

S - Solution (how they resolve fights)

If the calm talk he tried to have with you didnt work,he will wait until the night,but keep in mind that he will not let his mate go upset to bed,he will lay with you even if you try to push him away,once you are in his arms there is no scape.Smothered in love.

T- Touch (when they need/want your touch, what will they do? how often?)

Always,will feel his heart hurt if he does not at least have you around.He is not one for PDA but his arm is for sure on your back,guiding you if you two are walking.

In private he is all over you,its like he is touch starved,will literally beg for attention.

U - Up ( waking up with them)

He is always there when you wake up,morning kisses are a must with him and long hugs until you finally get in the shower.

He will have you some warm coffe by the time you are out of the shower and will wait for you to dress up.

V - Vacation (where they travel with you)

Rome.He wants to take you there and show you everything,while telling you stories about those place.

The trip will be romantic as hell,he will as well take you out every night to the most expensives and fancy restaurants over there.

He loves spending so much time with you far from the castle,just the two of you without vampires Kings getting on his nerves .

W - Wedding (how they propose/where you get married/honeymoon)

Honestly he does not like too much the idea of marrying.

He is very old and mates bond are something more stronger than marrying someone,so there isnt almost any chances of having a wedding with him.

If you do,he will tell you he considered you his spouse long ago and found amusing that you didnt know it.

X - X-factor (what about you captivated them?)

How small you are in comparison to him.He knows everyone is smaller than him but never thought much about it.

But just the fact when you two interlaced your fingers and how small and tiny your hand feels,is something that really get him on his feelings.

Y - Yawning (how they act when they’re tired)

He will literally pout,his eyes are looking at you intensely waiting for you to understand he wants your hugs and he wants them now.

His head will be up yours,your hands are tracing soft patterns on his back as you leave kisses on his chest.

Z - Zzzz (how you fall asleep together)

He loves having you in his arms while you sleep,hearing your heart beat and your soft snoring ,his head is probably resting on your chest because of this,his big arms wrapped around your body as he just wait until the sun came up.

If you talk or mumble something while dreaming he will find it the cutest shit ever.

[cycat-carisi]

Lonesome Superhero

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: Gator keeps hitting on you and you finally give him a piece of your mind. He's not the sweet boy you once knew anymore - or if he is, it's far too difficult to see.

Tags: No spoilers! Angst. Post episode 1 and 2.

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show

Length: ~1.3k

A/N: This just popped into my head and I needed to get it out. Gator is despicable and unless he has some major character growth, I can't bring myself to romanticize him. I do think his character is super intriguing though. I hope we get to dive deeper into what makes him tick throughout the season. (:

(Plus, I have a theory that Gator may have unintentionally been a witness to his mother's murder as a boy...)

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

It's in the way the frosted glass door harshly swings open that immediately lets you know who is behind it. There could only be one person who felt entitled enough to barge into a retirement home like he owned the place.

You swallow thickly. Not again.

Turning around from your medicine cart, you find him standing there in his camouflage cargo pants and a black t-shirt that is two sizes too tight. His hands perch on his hips as his narrowed eyes and cocky smirk aim in your direction.

"Gator, please. Not today," you speak coldly.

His smirk only grows. "Oh, c'mon, babycakes, you don’t know what you're missin'!"

"Gator!" you scold, trying to hush your voice in front of your patients. "Come with me, please." Anger bubbles up inside of you as Gator's face contorts into a triumphant grin. He saunters forward as you lead him toward the back entrance of the small facility.

In the shadow of the building, the fall air nips at your bare arms. The chill, however, is easily quelled by your boiling blood.

"How dare you come to my place of work!" You waste no time laying into the Tillman son.

Your ferocity catches Gator off-guard, causing panic to dart across his features. He takes a half-step back, pulling his head and neck along with it.

Oh, but you’re far from done with him.

"For weeks now, you've been popping up wherever I go, asking me to go out with you in the most degrading ways possible! Every. Single. Time. I have turned you down, yet you clearly cannot take ‘no’ for an answer! And now you have the audacity to show up at where I work and do the same? No! It doesn’t work like that, Gator. I worked hard for my career. I went to college, got my license, and came back here to help my community. I am respected in this building, and I will not tolerate you waltzing in here like God's gift to women and disrespecting me in front of my patients!"

Out of breath and seething, you continue to stare Gator down. He looks downright gobsmacked – a mixture of a wounded pup about to run and a cornered hound ready to bite.

The silence is deafening. You wait for Gator to snap back like he always does – some moronic comeback that's as pathetic as his barbed wire LOL tattoo.

And predictably, he does just that. "What the hell?!!" he cries out, stepping towards you and invading your space. The pungent odor from his last puff of vape wafts off his breath. "I'm the law in this town! I'm a winner! All you ever do is humiliate me! You're fucking awful!"

"I'm awful?!" you scoff, eyebrows shooting skyward. You're about to rip him a new one when you simply stop and shake your head in pity. "What happened to you, Gator?"

Once again, the Tillman son is rendered speechless. His dark brow pinches together in confusion. "Wha-?"

You seize your opportunity to dive a little deeper. "I mean, what happened to the Gator from middle school? The one who used to be my friend? The boy who was sweet and kind and would spend lunch hours reading comic books with me. It's like you suddenly woke up one day and decided to become an asshole, always acting out in class and purposely bullying other kids. Doing reckless shit because your dad could get you out of trouble. And now? I think you've gotten worse! Hell, Mrs. Lakeland told me that you all but pushed Gladys Baker out of the way at the corner store the other day. What the heck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?"

"I - I -" he stammers, head spinning. Then Gator swallows, puffing up his chest. "I take what's mine! I take what I'm owed. I made it through police training. People in this town owe me their respect, so I take it as I see fit."

"Newsflash! That's not how you get respect, sunshine," you retort. "Respect is earned, and from where I'm standing, all I see is a pathetic man-child whose daddy got him where he is today. 'My father is the sheriff' are the magic words that force people to step out of your way. That's not respect; that's notoriety from being a grade-A asshole!"

Gator's face twists into a snarl while his fists clench and unclench at his sides. You've clearly hit a nerve.

Even though you’d love nothing more than to lay into him some more, you remind yourself that it’s notworth the fight. Instead, your chest constricts with disappointment. "I don’t get it, Gator,” you speak softly. “Why do you let your father run your life? He says to jump and you ask how high. When are you gonna wake up and realize that he's just using you?"

If it wasn’t clear that you’d struck a nerve before, it certainly is now. Gator’s combat boot strikes the gravel, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt, and his cheeks glaze over with a deep red flush. "I don’t – He doesn’t –" Lost for words, Gator simply clamps his jaw shut. He kicks at the ground again and throws his hands to his hair, letting out a frustrated yell.

You hop back in surprise; a fearful gasp escapes you at his sudden outburst.

Gator's head whips back up, and those dark eyes meet yours.

Middle school was a long time ago, yet Gator remembers everything. He remembers how nice you were to him; how one day you saw this quiet boy sitting alone at lunch with a comic book and decided to come over and ask what he was reading. He used to dream of being as invincible as the superheroes in his books – Gator's way of shielding himself from everything that he'd seen. But then you came along and somehow made him feel a little less alone. He adored you and your friendship, eventually developing a little crush. That was, of course, before Gator was taught that girls weren't supposed to like comics, that men lead while women follow, and that his father's word was absolute. If he pleased his father, any situation could go Gator's way. The power sought after by characters in his comic books was right at Gator's fingertips; all he had to do was prove to the senior Tillman that he was worthy. Nothing else mattered.

And now? Gator almost had it. He was so close to having his father's approval. He was certain of it! Why couldn't you see that? Why couldn't you see how awesome he had become? He had buried his crush on you away while you were at college, but now that you were back, there was no reason to hide that he wanted you. And there should be no reason why you wouldn't want him either!

Except…your words today hurt. They made Gator feel puny and pathetic. How could you say that he was just his father's pawn?! He was his own man! A tough and strong and important man in this town...right?

You watch as despair briefly flashes across Gator's face before quickly being replaced by aggravation. He grunts again prior to spinning on his heels and stalking off.

No! Gator is his own man, and you were just the type of woman his father had warned him about! His crush is stupid, and so are you...

As Gator storms off, his ears catch your quiet words laced with pity. "Silly me for thinking that the sweet guy who read comics with me would still be in there.”

For the first time since he was a boy, tears stab at Gator's eyes. He scrunches his eyes closed and shakes his head, instead focusing on the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he slinks away.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

| Series masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

[machveil]

Every composite number Pookie <3

had to Google composite numbers🧍🏻‍♂️hi pookie!!

4. Whats your favorite feeling? - being so incredibly moved by art and music that I tear up. like, the feeling of visuals, music, and voice acting that lead up to an impactful scene? something in me gets emotional

6. What’s your favorite candle scent? - Bath & Body Works sugared lemon zest✨it’s so good, makes me want to eat it… aah, forbidden snack

8. Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you? - for Pillow Pet enjoyers, if you’ve seen, have, or had the rainbow unicorn one, that is nostalgic. the fluffy rainbow back and the soft purple fabric? iconic, never giving mine up

9. Best childhood moment? - consistently being the last person standing on my team during dodgeball. I knew I couldn’t throw a ball to save my life so I focused on staying in. unfortunately that left me with a firing squad of kids chucking rubber at me

10. When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards) - today on Instagram reels, I laughed for a solid five minutes watching a dumb video

12. What calms you down? - talking to my friends and being around people I like. sometimes I need alone time too, but even being in the same room as someone is nice for me

14. Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for? - possible trip with my friends!! we might go to an aquarium

15. Comfort food? - my mother makes really good pork belly and kimchi fried rice. oh, and kimchi jjigae, aah and bulgogi… literally anything my mom makes, it’s always good. I have a soft spot for Korean dishes though

16. What’s something you want to create soon? - aah I should animate or storyboard something sooner than later. I like doing it, I just need to start something

18. What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at? - I mean, I feel like myself right now. I’ll probably still be changing into my twenties, but, like, I’m pretty happy and content as I am now too. I’m able to express myself with my friends and enjoy what I like

20. Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart - when I was a kid there was this obnoxious boy in my class. our playground had a fireman pole that was pretty high up off the ground. I was minding my business by it when he came up to me and said, “Watch this.”. he took a running start, jumped, tried to grab the pole, missed and fell into the wood chips below. he laid there for a minute before dusting himself off and sulking away. I think about that when I bummed, cheers me up

21. Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa? - mm I like ‘em all. cold barley tea, oatmilk latte, and cocoa with crushed peppermint

22. Name of your favorite playlist? - Drawing👁️👄👁️

24. Who is your bestfriend? - I don’t necessarily have a best friend, but I’m really close with two of my cousins and two of my girl friends. if I needed help I’d go to them first, I know they have my back and I have theirs

25. If your soul was a color, what would it be? - I mean, I vibe with your eyes being the gateway to your soul… so brown haha. something warm and cozy, a nice deep brown

26. If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring? - I’m lame and romanticize cute apartment living in an urban area haha. I don’t really take up a lot of space and I desperately want a nice balcony. the ‘where’ doesn’t matter too much to me, but uuh Canada is looking really nice right about now and it’s still technically close to my family

as for who’s coming with, I don’t really know. maybe a partner eventually since I know my friends are already sorting out their living situations? never really thought about that part

27. Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something? - in theory I like gardening. I gardened at my middle school for a class project, grew some cucamelons, assorted vegetables and berries, help my mom and grandma with their gardens whenever they feel like it, and it’s nice. my only problem is I’m not huge on dirt or bugs lmfao. the closest I have to my own garden is my one Jade succulent who’s doing really well in her pot

28. What are you proudest of? - my gut answer is my friends, seeing them grow up and do what they want to do makes me proud of them. I suppose my personal answer would be my art, I like looking back at my middle school art and seeing how far I’ve come

30. What do your hobbies look like? - other than drawing and writing, I’m really just big on gaming. right now I’ve been happily F2P in Wuthering Waves since launch. I’m not usually big on combat focused games, but WuWa is super relaxing and I’ve really enjoyed the combat. otherwise, I’ve also been playing Animal Crossing New Horizons again, slowly making progress on my island - still waiting for Pudge or Patches to show up

[em-prentiss]

get to know your moots

Thank you to @justwanted2dance for the tag💗

what’s the origin of your blog title? Emily prentiss :3 that's literally it, her name mashed together. Possibly the least creative thing I could've come up with but I was desperate for an ao3 account and couldn't be bothered to think of a new one for tumblr

otp(s) + shipname(s): Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss (hotchniss), Daisy Johnson/Jemma Simmons (skimmons), Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff (romanogers), Natasha Romanoff/Maria Hill (blackhill), I feel like I'm missing a lot though

favorite color: Purple and blue :)

favorite game: Hmm, Mario Kart? I very rarely play any type of game

song stuck in your head: I knew it, I know you by gracie abrams

weirdest habit/trait? I don't think these are weird per se - maybe off putting lol - but peeling my lips and breaking down my nails (help idk how to describe it)

hobbies: Reading, writing, crocheting, painting and drawing (though it's been a while since those last two)

if you work, what’s your profession? I don't! I'm a full time student

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? My inner child begs to be a baker/librarian though I know I've romanticized it beyond belief which would ultimately lead to me being disappointed lol

something you’re good at: Remembering stuff and crafts, I think. I'm good with my hands when I've had enough practice at something :3

something you’re bad at: Dancing, sticking to a routine, controlling my facial expressions

something you love: Cloudy weather and rainy days, hugs!!!, going to cafes with my friends, sweet treats, having a long drive when there's new music to listen to

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Oh jeez, my mind is so blank right now. Probably the feeling of nostalgia since I'm constantly drowning in it

something you hate: When people chew loudly or with their mouth open. Also having to repeat myself (this one is technically my fault, I don't like raising my voice, I'm a bit of a mumbler but damnn can you listen??)

something you collect: Mugs

something you forget: Putting food back in the fridge

what’s your love language? Physical touch

favorite movie/show: Shows: agents of shield, haikyuu. Movies: little women 2019, rogue one, princess diaries, the amazing spiderman, tangled

favorite food: cauliflower with bechamel (don't even try judging)

favorite animal: Cats!!!

what were you like as a child? Voracious bookworm, shy on my own but loud with friends (I'm still like this tbh)

favorite subject at school? Biology (up until a levels lmao)

least favorite subject? PHYSICS

what’s your best character trait? Uhh I'm not sure. I'd like to think I'm trustworthy? And pretty hilarious if I do say so myself

what’s your worst character trait? Way too caught up in others' opinion of me and never sure of myself, I'm also unfortunately quite lazy

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? It's actually been such a good day today, so not much! Possibly getting to see my best friend because it's been a while

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? My grandad (mother's dad), I think he would have loved me tbh

recommend one of your favorite fanfics:

-wrapped around your finger by @ssaemilyhotchner

-i hear her voice in the morning hour by @leavemurph

-reckless (just enough) by @eyesontheskyline

-someone to watch me die. by @criminalmindsgonewrong

tags if you feel so inclined! @leavemurph @twosignificantfigures @ssaprincess @duchessas @roseekara

[moondustinfj]

MBTI AND ENNEAGRAM ANALYSIS OF INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE CHARACTERS

Part 1

Louis de Pointe du Lac

Mbti

Introverted Intuitive Feeling Perceiving

Infps are highly idealistic, sensitive and driven by their values

Especially because their leading function Fi (introverted feeling) allows them to be in tune with their emotions. Very much so that they are driven by their inner compass. They have a clear sense of right and wrong and it's not likely or easy for them to change their mind about something, especially moral issues

Armand: I would have made this woman a vampire. But I thought it best you have a hand in it. Otherwise you would not give Claudia up. You must know you wanted it

Louis: I loathe what I did!

Armand: Then loathe me, not yourself

Louis: No, you don't understand. You nearly destroyed the thing you value in me when this happened. I resisted you with all my power even when I didn't know it was your force which was working on me. Something nearly died in me! Passion nearly died in me! I was all but destroyed when Madeline was created!

Armand: But that thing is no longer dead, that passion, that humanity, whatever you wish to name it. If it were not alive there wouldn't be tears in your eyes right now. There wouldn't be rage in your voice

Infps are very emphatatic and sensitive. They want to make the world a better place and they try hard to help others

"But why, with this passion and this sense of justice, do you wish to call yourself the child of Satan!" - Armand

Louis: I'm incapable of your detachment. I know what it is, and I do not possess it and I doubt that I ever will. I accept this

Armand: I understand. I saw you in the theatre, your suffering, your sympathy with that girl. I saw your sympathy for Dennis when I offered him to you; you die when you kill

They are introspective and they desire to find their meaning in life

"It's a terrible feeling, not knowing, not understanding, not being in control of your own destiny" - Louis

"I would have to know from what... from what it comes. Whether it came from other vampires...or elsewhere" - Louis

They focus on the big picture and are very intuitive

"No need to tell him what to observe, or what to remember. He always knew such things. Years ago, when I'd done the dark magic on him, I hadn't had to tell him anything; he had savored the smallest aspects of it all on his own. Then later he said I'd failed to guide him. Didn't he know how unnecessary that had always been?" -Lestat

With their strive for authenticity and their sensitivity, they look for ways to express themselves through art and stories

Enneagram

Basic fear: that they have no meaning or significance

Basic desire: to have their own identity and purpose, their meaning

Type fours are sensitive, self aware and reserved. They are also prone to be moody and self conscious. They can suffer from self pity and melancholy

Type fours see themselves as fundamentally different from other people. More than any other type, they are acutely aware of their weaknesses and defiances. They see themselves as uniquely disadvantaged or flawed

And because they see themselves as so different, they feel like nobody can see their true selves and therefore no one can love them for who they really are

"For the first time in my life, I was seen"

They might romanticize pain and bittersweet feelings

"I think to be this happy is to be miserable, to feel this much satisfaction is to burn"

Type fours often feel like there is something missing in them that others possess. This thing can't be properly identified but they feel like there is a hole in them that can not be filled

"If I ever thought we have souls, mine is gone forever"

So they feel like with this thing missing, everyone but them can fully understand who they are and their meaning

Type fours struggle to let go of their feelings from the past. They nurse their old wounds and hold onto their feelings about people who hurt them

4w5 (four wing five): The Bohemian

This subtype is combined with type five. So they're more reserved than the usual type four. But they're also more observant and speculative

"Louis, the watcher, the patient one, was there on account of love pure and simple"

Overall, infps and type fours are generally sensitive, creative, melancholic, empathatic, understanding, authentic, emotionally expressive and introspective people

"Louis, whose green eyes are soulful, the very mirror of patient misery, soft voiced, very human, weak; having lived only two hundred years, unable to read minds, or to levitate, or to spellbind others except inadvertently, which can be hilarious, an immortal with whom mortals fall in love" -Armand

" And it occured to me. If Louis does end his life, if he does bring his supernatural journey to conclusion, how will I ever answer for it to Lestat or Armand? It was the love of Louis which had at times crippled Lestat, and enslaved Armand" - David

"The first thing I'd ever noticed about him-well, after his green eyes that is- was his black hair. No, all that's a lie. It was his expression; the passion and the innocence and the delicacy of conscience. I just loved it!" - Lestat

"If I knew a mortal of that sensitivity, that pain, that focus, I would make him a vampire in an instant. But such can rarely be done. No, I've had to wait and watch for you. And now I'll fight for you. Do you see how ruthless I am in love?" - Armand

"Louis, my handsome Louis, in his dark wool and old fashioned high-collared linen, gazing down on us with a look of thinly veiled amusement, but with a secret in his hypnotic green eyes" - Lestat

[greenerteacups]

Have you watched Fleabag? If so- your thoughts?

Love it love it love it. The writing is phenomenal the acting is phenomenal and the first season especially has the electric energy of a creative doing her first major project and utterly firing on all cylinders. The characters are fantastic and I enjoyed every episode thoroughly. I'm picky about writing on television and the acting sold it completely even though it's a tragicomedy and toggles between moods very quick, I never struggled to understand what Fleabag's headspace was in a given scene. The Hot Priest is, of course, a wonderful character, and their relationship is deliciously interesting. I wish that fan content treated him more like the morally gray character he is on the show — the "kneel" scene is romanticized as a kink thing, which, IMO, it is absolutely NOT and it's actually one of the most funbad exchanges they have! it's about him using her confession of grief in order to indulge in his own vices of power and desire! It's the culmination of the Priest acting irresponsibly throughout the season as he leads her on, almost always under the assumption that he's eventually going to leave her, until he assumes a literal role as the voice OF God and immediately incites physical intimacy with her! It tells us so much about his relationship with sex (as does his brother's backstory in S2E1 and the fox motif). AND it's hot as fuck. All things can be true at once.

If I were going to nitpick — which is what I always do, when I love something and think it's the best — I would say the tonal shift between seasons makes me think it would have worked better as two different shows. I get the idea that the first one is about sitting with grief and trauma and not being the Perfect Healthy Survivor all the time, and the second is about the non-linear grieving process as we seek connections with new people, but the disjoint between the actual story of the first one and the story of the second one made me squint a little, like maybe we were missing some episodes in between the seasons. Claire and Fleabag end on an apocalyptically cruel fight where Claire throws Fleabag's trauma in her face and betrays her for her dirtbag husband, only for Fleabag to eagerly help and care for her through her miscarriage in the opening scene of S2E1. Is that an unrealistic depiction of a very complicated sibling relationship? No! But it shows how much better Fleabag is doing, mentally, between S2E1 and the finale of S1, that she's willing to put that kind of fight in the past without even bringing it up. Considering how slow and arduous her grieving process was in S1, that sudden leap towards emotional stability is jarring, like hitting a pothole. You can see how we got from A to B, but it doesn't feel smooth.

There's also the problem that Boo doesn't really come up in S2? Which is strange, since S1 is "about" Boo, insofar as it's about anybody except Fleabag? And I didn't want to rehash the beats of S1, but this is the problem of the tonal pivot I mentioned earlier — S1 is much, much darker than S2 is, and so there are certain elements of S1 that no longer seem to fit in S2. But these are bugs on the windscreen of a Ferrari, you know? You wipe 'em off and enjoy the ride.

[eisforeidolon]

Question: So when you were doing Big Sky, between you and the female lead there was a lot of like kind of back and forth on will-they-won't-they get together and then it got cancelled and didn't continue. When you take on your roles, do you consider the physicality and intimacy of the role with the fact that you're married? Is that something you take into account?

Jensen: Uh, good question. I haven't really been, I haven't really had a role or a storyline or something that has really challenged that -

Jared: [fake cough] Soldier Boy.

Jensen: Yeah, I mean - I will say this, my wife gave me really good advice for a couple of scenes with Soldier Boy. And some - not all of them made the final cut, there were more. [Jared laughs and nods] But I was nervous about it and I was talking to her about it and I was like oh man, this is, you know, I don't know what this is gonna be like. And she said this to me, she said, as nervous as you might be for this scene that you have to do today, imagine how much more nervous the person is that you're doing it with. This is a person that has just been hired on to do this one thing, you're gonna keep doing scenes - I'm gonna keep doing scenes, keep working and be on the show. So that really helped me kind of put things in perspective and then I then was able to kind of treat the situation much differently. That being said, I haven't been in like a big kind of like love relationship on screen in - probably since Eric Brady. So it's not something that I've necessarily had to give much thought to this point. But I'm sure if there is a role or a project or a storyline that presents itself in the future, then that's probably a conversation I'd have to have, with her. But the good thing is that she is, too, an actress and has done those kinds of scenes and gets it and understands that it is so choreographed, and so - the intimacy and the romanticism that you see on screen is nothing like that when you're shooting it. Every move, every head tilt while you're kissing, your every hand placement, all of it is so choreographed like a dance or like a fight scene that it kinda takes that emotion out of it a little bit.

Jared: I think - I don't know about Dee, but for Gen, when I have a like [finger quotes] intimate scene, or whatever? She's - I mean, we met when we were in our mid-twenties, she knows I have had exes, I know she has exes, so, like, the kissing on camera stuff? She's like, oh, I know how uncomfortable that is -

Jensen: Yeah.

Jared: She is less comfortable with me having a scene where I'm like, hey I love you so much. So if it's something like that she's like, [angry voice] I don't like that! Like the whole physicality thing, it's like, I know how weird that is, I know that nobody likes it, the crew doesn't like it, the cast is like this is awkward, like Hey Bill, you know Frank, and in your underwear or a sock -

Jensen: Yeah, you're like on a couch making out with someone and literally like four feet away is this [holds microphone stand like a boom mike, staring downward] - We rolling? Yeah, great.

Jared: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Jensen: So it is not - the intimacy again you see, what you see on camera is not how it feels when you're doing it. So yeah I don't think that there's that worry from our wives necessarily. But that's a good question, yeah.

[lausterdomyamong]

Can we learn a bit more about your hsr sona? What is her relationship with Ratio like? What does she think of Aventurine? (Considering how him and Ratio spend much of the Penacony quest bickering). What is her general view of Ratios trip to Penacony?

This is going to be long, I haven't checked my inbox this past month — sorry for such late answer in advance !

Moving on, I'm glad you asked this question about my sona! There are many things to explore between her character and her relationship with canon characters which I'm not really daring to talk about that much. I have her info in Thai, but since I haven't write anything in english for a while now, this might came out a bit wonky with the wording and all, feel free to ask more after you finished reading it!

I'll call her Lauster while we're talking, so it's easy to read than call her my sona repeatedly– let's go.

My HSR sona + relationship with canon characters.

With Veritas Ratio, the very first time they met — they were classmates at Intelligentsia Guild. She wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, thus meeting THE Veritas Ratio, making her feel admire as much as she despise to be on the same team with him, or opposite team, in any project. He was just that outstanding, so confident, so bright that she must close her eyes shut. Lauster hates how sharp-witted he is, hates how much he was so right about everything, hates how he never conceal or sugarcoating his words, hates that he constructively helping others. Slowly, that changes, after some times she spent with him, she feels genuinely attracted by said trait she sworn to hate so much.

She liked him first. She fell hard, she never knew how her heart would yearn for his voice, his stern look, his mind which never stuck to the past. She hated him before, but that changes. He was never selfish in her eyes, the egotistical, rude, and overly confident facade was just how people tend to literally perceived him just as that, it's not what he truly is. She didn't learn the hard way, because that was how Veritas always is. Not many people have such a tender and kind goal as his. To cure and help people to be free from their own idiocy, to be able to stand up on their own legs, even without any helping hand.

It was pure admiration that lead her up to this point, you can say that she is a Ratio defender, she literally is lmao. She is the epitome of hsr fandom if media literacy isn't dead — someone who doesn't judge Ratio by his cover and shallowly decided that was his whole character. Lauster has her own ego, one of them is to be someone who knows Ratio oh-so-well. But that kinda killing her too.

It wasn't completely one-sided. They dated at some point. Ratio does like her company, but he does think that she doesn't fit the life of a scholar, she is destructive to herself, too much of a perfectionist to the point that she suffered from her own idealization. He liked how she was a romanticism, it was interesting to explore her psyche as a person — surely noticed that she wouldn't survive a day in harsh reality, she will break, she feels too much, she would crumble from the inside out. You can say it is a opposite attraction, he is grounded to reality, where she is drowned in emotion and her own dream.

There were a lot of good time between tge two. But it was a sad relationship, honestly. She never once feel jealous of her love one's success. She truly is happy for how Ratio is thriving on his path, she was elated to be in his arms, to be lived by him, to see him persue his dream (that isn't to join Genius Society). But what killing their relationship is how her being a self-destructive perfectionist. She tried hard to be good on her works too, but there were too many external factors that keep her from being well, she tried not to a burden to him.

They loved each other, but they weren't meant to be. That realization hits Lauster first, it destroyed her. But Ratio view it differently, which is why he tried to help her, to grow, to be able to stand on her own feet again.

Then, stuff happened– she disappeared one day from Intelligentsia Guild. With thing left unsaid to each other, Ratio is striving to find her across the galaxy again.

___________________________

With Aventurine, to be honest, there wasn't so much depth I've been thinking about, they were civil and nice with one another. But one thing that is interesting to be reckon is Lauster actually hates the IPC. Her life on her planet was rough because of them, she hates their reputation, as she grew, she learned enough to acknowledge that IPC as a whole is awful.

But she does know the fact that Aventurine was a slave before, he doesn't have the choice to be engage in their system. He too — was a victim of IPC, she was well aware. So at least, on the first encounter where she met him, she was acting indifferent and being civil. She wasn't harsh or mean, but also not overly nice nor sending pitied eyes. It was a normal amount of kindness as one human shall receive. This is where Aven start to like her as a friend.

The two came around each other and form a beautiful friendship eventually. You can say that she is the only one who doesn't care (and I mean, her gaf is on vacation when she is with Aven) about his antics, even enable him to a lot of length. She doesn't really want him to buy her stuffs as a friendship reward. I can say they were really close friends where they can trauma bonding to a degree lmao.

____________________

The last question is— to be honest, if she's still with Ratio at the time, she may wish him a safe trip only. Despite being someone who lives in the fantasy, she doesn't want to visit Penacony at all. While she was intrigued in the concept of it long time ago, she already mentally living in a dream every day, so she wasn't interested to physically be in one (not really but you get what I mean). Living in a dream was sweet, but she has been like that her whole life, she knew how tiresome it would be sometimes. (Yeah, she is neurodivergent.)

Anyway, thank you for reading such a long post! If you have question, feel free to slide into my ask box !

[the-coven-of-bookish-hoes]

Ancient Geek Review: Love in the Time of Cholera

7/10 Literary Masterpiece

It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I absolutely adore the genre of Magical Realism, especially when it is explored by Latin American authors. I had really only read one book by Garcia Marquez before, and that was One Hundred Years of Solitude. This book really reinforced my opinion about the beautiful style that Marquez writes in.

Without spoiling much, the book follows two main characters that were in love in their youth, with the male lead, Florentino Ariza, waiting around 50 years to be able to try again in courting the love of his life, Fermina Daza. Set sometime in the 1800's in a vague country that is most likely Colombia. I went into this book with the expectation of a wholesome romance between two older people, and instead I found multiple explorations of the grotesque and disgusting nature of love. Garcia Marquez compares the idea of love with many afflictions, including (as the title suggests) the putrid symptoms of cholera.

I love when an author does not shy away from disgusting depictions of life, but I will say that this book contains a lot of gross imagery including: death, violence, blood, disease, s*xual assault, r*pe, grooming, and racist ideals. I will say it is not for everyone, especially people who equate the voice of a character with the voice of an author. As the story progresses, we realize that the main characters are not as wholesome as they seem at first, and I personally stopped rooting for the male lead and instead was entirely focused on the gruesome depictions of life, which is what I believe Garcia Marquez intended. He talks about life in the 1800's as they were, without sugarcoating, and very explicitly addressing about the problems of a time many now romanticize (a time of cholera, a time of backwards thinking and civil war and violence.)

I will say, and it is something I will probably address in the future, when I make my analysis of the next book I'm reading, but Marquez has a very distinct masculine voice in his writing. This happened in One Hundred Years also, but Love in the Time of Cholera is just way more male-centered, and sometimes there are plots that involve violence against women that are described as love, sometimes even from the women themselves. I am still hesitant to interpret this, I think I would need a re-read of the work with annotations to be able to give a clear opinion about the voice of the male characters in the book, and the way that misogyny is prevalent throughout it. This can be due to the setting of the work, but I believe it's deeper than that, and that inherently, violence against women would change in connotation depending on the context of the novel and the author that is writing it.

Overall? The novel explores the meaning of love, whether it is an affliction that gets to us all, just like an impending epidemic, or if is a beautiful condition that improves our lives and makes a poet of us all. It explores themes of the self, identity, society, womanhood, sexuality, and the history that haunts that corner of Latin America. I very much enjoyed this book, and I recommend it to anyone who is willing to challenge themselves and see a different perspective.

[thequietkid-moonie]

The diference between love and obsession

[ YANDERE COMPARISON ] [ AA2153 ] [ Cells at Work! Code Black ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just write it for entretaiment

My little mew mew ~ my little mew mew ~ i love so so so soooo much this guy, this is one of my favorite character in the whole series, between even both versions!!!

Hehe i really need more inspiration for this series <3

Despite the fact that for AA2153 everything has being crushed in a second by the reality of the world he decided that he will not give up, he will give his best for this world and for the people who lives in here

Falling in love wasn't expected but it isn't unwanted, for AA2153 love is a slow process, getting closer step by step as both work to survive, trying to have joy and find pride on what you two do to be able to wake up tomorrow and do your hard work once more

For AA2153 love is a hope but also a burden, its complicated because he lives in a really aggresive world so he would be constantly worried about you, it isn't that he underestimate you, he knows you for a while now, he have fallen in love with who you are, but is just that this world isn't exactly kind and he fears that one day he will simply not been able to see you anymore

Love for AA2153 is a burden because it makes him be constantly worried about you, even if you don't have a dangerous work he still can't not worry, and is also a burden because the simple thought of knowing that his work, as simple as it may seem, it helps you, it makes him want to wark harder and harder (even if he has to overwork himself) but at the same time contributes on making this life at least a little more bearable

Love gives AA2153 hope, it makes him hope that tomorrow will be better, even if it never happens and it feels like the world itself one of these days will simply colapse it still gives him hope, it motivate him to keep doing his job, even if you barely see each other during the day, barely having the opportunity to say a small hello thats enough because he knows you are still here

Maybe this love will lead him to nowhere, the posibility of this world colapsing before he even gather the courage to voice off his feelings is there, torturing him in the back of his mind, or maybe you even won't correspond this feelings but, even if thats the case and it would hurt him, at the end it will be fine, because this love make him feel like that, despite working in such cruel world it is still a live worthy of living, if he wasn't born he wouldn't be able to meet someone so amazing and wouldn't be able to contribute and work in this world, to share the burden with his co workers, with his friends, to help make this world a little less horrible

Love makes AA2153 happy, makes him feel motivated, makes him work harder but at the same time makes him feel alive, make him feel worthy of living because he can still find happiness, he finds reasons to keep working hard and even smiling

AA2153 has being lied, he has been told a cruel lie about this world before been forced to face the world, to adapt to the truth in just a moment and already start to do his job, is the only thing left for him and the only thing he can do after all

AA2153 was too busy to even think about the growing feelings inside of him, he was trying to get used to the rythm of the work as quick as posible that he didn't noticed how he started to follow you around, how he started to do what you asked and how you became everything in his mind

AA2153 obsesive love started by admiration, either because you had more experience or because you were better at the job, no matter who you were his mind found a way to put you above him, to make him think like you were better, like you were a good guidence, like if you were the only thing right in this world

The world you two live in is messed up, something as simple as living it hurts, is a pain, he needed something that he could relay on for the sake his own mental state, and that thing happened to be you, AA2153's obsesive love lead him to idealize you, to feel like you were the only ray of light in this world, the only thing that would be able to make this live worthy of living

AA2153's obsesive love blind him and make him feel like you are the one who works harder out there, someone who could do nothing wrong because this world is just messed up, anything you do is justified, he needed any kind of salvation and your kindness was exactly what he needed, even if you just pity him he accepted it, at this point he just thinks too high of you to realice how messed up his imagine of you is

AA2153's obsesive love blind him to the point that he doesn't even realice his feelings, the only thing that is in his mind and the only reason why he keeps working so hard is you but for him is completely normal, after all you are his ray of hope, the one that guide him and the one that makes his life tolerable, but is that same ignorance of his own feelings what makes him not so annoying

AA2153's obsesive is quite settle down, it can be easily overlooked until something happened to you, the bare posibility of something bad happening to you, the posibility of you leaving him all alone in this world make him lose himself, he won't be able to live without you! you are the only thing right in this world! he can't lose you! he can't let you let this world nor someone take you away from him, he tries to be reasonable to some extent but if he is pushed enough he will get violent, for once he will be more assertive and use what he have learned from this world to his favor, even if he has to end up with someone's life it won't matter, death isn't something strange in this world

[adistiany]

STUDIO CABANA: THE TWO SIDES OF LOVE

When we are in love, we will think it is the best feeling ever. The fuzzy feeling that tickles in the stomach, the warm burning sensation on the face and neck that we cannot control, and the skip of our shoes when we walk towards the person who has our heart in their palms.

That’s what Yukari Maki feels for Yuusuke Kusaka nowadays as she steps the stairs to the school’s rooftop. There, she sees how divine Kusaka is in her eyes; his features that are accentuated by the sun, the soft locks of his raven hair sway with the breeze, and, most importantly, when his eyes dart and lock eyes with her, she swears she catches sight of how his dark irises are glimmering like pearls from this distance.

When Yukari Maki falls in love, she falls hard to the point where she scrapes her knees for falling too hard. On the ground, she’s bleeding and winching in pain, not from the fall but from the realization that her heart will never beat in rhyme and sync with his, for his heart is clutched by another woman. This is a story of an unrequited love….

Studio Cabana is an on-going shoujo manga series written and illustrated by Uma Agri. The series was first released on 24 March 2021 and has been serialized in Pixiv Sylph magazine, published by ASCII Media Work. As for now, the manga has six volumes published in Japan, and sadly, the series has not been licensed in English yet.

The story of Studio Cabana begins with a diligent high school girl named Yukari Maki who keeps scolding Yuusuke Kusaka, the rumored delinquent classmate, for skipping class and school duties. One day, she uncovers that he is a member of a band when she follows him into a music studio called Studio Cabana, and she also discovers that Kusaka writes and sings a love song with such a lovely, melancholic singing voice. From that day on, she is enthralled right away by his presence, voice, and heart.

This manga doesn’t deserve my 3.5 stars rating because I still can’t get over the story and characters in it. I believe I have to change it to a higher number like 4 to 4.5 stars. Oh, but I digress. Studio Cabana is a shoujo manga that hits the nail on the head for me; something I’d been craving but didn’t know what it is before. It’s full of drama and pretty complex for a shoujo. Also, it’s a slow burn romance with a focus on the characters relationship and its development.

Studio Cabana does a great job of blending typical shoujo elements with dark and mature tones. We have soft and funny interactions between the protagonist and the male lead, and on the other side, we see the complicated love affair between the male lead and another woman. It’s like, one is a dynamic of sincerity and welcomeness, and the other is poisonous and destructive. One is showing the beauty of the world; the other is isolating the person from the world. One is pure love, and another is toxic love. To see two different sides of love in a love triangle is not something that I expected in a manga.

To shoujo demographics, love is sacred, love is everything that brings good and happiness. When a manga presents that love can’t be all sunshine and rainbows, and love isn’t shown in a perfect or idealized way, that shatters the concept of love in shoujo, in my opinion. It's not every day to see the portrayal of love realistically. In the real world, love can make people greedy, blind, and dependent on it. It’s such an interesting topic because love, as an abstract feeling, can be a very complex concept for humans. This manga addresses a deep subject that can be quite handful to write, but I’m glad the mangaka does it well.

As Nicole mentioned on her blog romancemangarecs.com in her review: “…Love isn’t romanticized in Studio Cabana. We see some difficult relationships, manipulative personalities, tons of emotion and struggles among the characters, and of course an unrequited love. The author explores a really important topic about relationships and the difficulty of leaving emotionally abusive partners.” I couldn’t agree more.

Obviously, the intention of the author is not always making it a sad, tragic, angsty love story. We get to see the main characters having their sweet moments together as they’re slowly progressing their friendship. It’s also a story about self-discovery, self-acceptance, and self-improvement. One needs to learn and grow before they can break free from toxic patterns and unhealthy relationship dynamics. One needs to learn and grow before they open themselves up to new possibilities in love and understand the true meaning of it.

All in all, Studio Cabana is a manga that surpasses my expectations. It's a compelling series that keeps me interested and captivated by the plot, themes, and characters. I can’t wait to see more of it, and I’m glad I discovered this manga. At the end of the day, it’s always stories that I didn’t expect to love!