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#and like. I don’t have social anxiety in the sense of I’m thinking I’ll get made fun of or anything
charliemwrites · 15 hours
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Part 5
(Told y'all I was back!!!)
Content: Established BDSM Dynamics, Attempted Intimidation, Threats, Mild Violence and Injury
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You suspect Konig gets off on watching you interact with others.
He’s an insecure man, there’s no doubt about that. He gets twitchy about other men interacting with you beyond brief, bland exchanges. A sleepy cashier at the grocery store? That’s fine. The waiter complimenting your choice of meal for some reason? Konig’s eyeing the steak knife.
That said, something about the way you are in a public setting has him constantly shifting. Practically squirming. And it’s not just social anxiety.
You smile at the employee that showed you where the towels are and Konig adjusts himself as soon as their back is turned. You politely brush off a mistake in your food order, his pupils spread like an oil spill.
You ask him about it one night, ever curious about this strange, obsessive creature clinging like remora.
“You are… very nice to people,” he explains slowly.
The two of you are doing a puzzle. You watch his big, calloused fingers fidget with a border piece. He’s forgotten to hand it to you while thinking, but you’re not in any rush.
“You are good at being… normal. No one knows that you are a killer. They can’t tell.”
You snort softly. “I am normal.”
He shoots you a skeptical look and you laugh. (Don’t miss how he flusters either.)
“Am I that different here than out there?” you wonder.
“Yes.”
You hum. Have never really considered that, but it makes sense. In privacy, you have nothing to react to. No faces to make or scripts to follow. You have Konig now but he’s different, there was never a reason to treat him like everyone else.
“So what about it arouses you?” you finally ask.
“That they don’t know.”
You don’t understand. You hardly ever do. You’re extra nice to the poor teenager that prepares your coffee next time you two go out. (You make Konig edge himself on the drive back home, then overstimulate him to near unconsciousness on the dining table.)
It’s not surprising, then, when he shyly asks if you’ll come meet some of his KorTac teammates.
He asks with his face smooshed between your thighs, nose crushed against your pubic mound. Just getting started, the taste of you already clouding his thoughts. The toe of your boot is nestled beneath his heavy balls; his voice pitches up proportional to the bend of your ankle.
“Why?” you ask, flat and emotionless. It makes him drool when you bleach the inflection from your voice, stripping it down to phonetics and fricatives. A drop of saliva trickles down your thigh. You twist your fingers in his hair, making him lick it up. (“Keep it tidy,” you’d told him. So far he’s barely managing, but he gets off on the struggle to please you.)
He mumbles something you can’t make out, so you force his head up and watch him blink. His swallows thickly, chin already glistening with slick, pink tongue lolling out across swollen lips.
“Again,” you command. Calm, even.
“I w-want them to meet you… if they can tell…”
You tilt your head. “If they can tell I’m a murderer?”
He whimpers, teeth sinking into his lip hard. You hitch your boot up, watch the tears collect in the corners of his eyes. Precum drip, drip, drips down his stomach from the vivid, weeping head of his straining cock.
“Is that all? You want me to meet your little friends with blood on my hands?” you coo.
He tries to nod, but your grip is far too tight. You click your tongue off the roof of your mouth. His hips jerk with the derisive sound.
“Or is it that you want to show off your owner?” you wonder. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. You huff in amusement as the pieces click into place.
“I see now.”
You cram his flushed face between your thighs again, grinding your pussy on the flat tongue he instantly presents.
“You want me to be a pretty, sweet thing. You want to show me off in some frilly sundress and play helpless civilian. I’ll shake their hands and they won’t know I’ve ripped a man’s guts out. I’ll smile pretending I haven’t bit someone’s finger off.”
He’s whining high and needy, rocking himself on the laces of your boots. You continue, rambling in a way you never do outside these moments.
“And you want me to do all that with my collar around your throat.” You press his face in tighter and close your thighs. “Maybe I should stab someone, huh? I’m sure I can find someone worth the effort.”
You feel the hot pinpricks of tears on your skin, his voice uncontrolled and breaking with desperation. He’s now arching his hips away and you know it’s because he’s trying not to cum. It’s a new rule you just recently established - that if he’s allowed access to your cunt, he gives it his full attention. Treats it like the rare and fleeting privilege it is.
All that just from your little tease.
The image is an intriguing one. You’ve never taken any pleasure from hiding your actions from others. But there is something almost… quaint, you suppose, about meeting men who kill for a living as a killer yourself. They’ll look at you and see Konig’s quiet civilian girlfriend. This will be a secret just for you and Konig. You’ve never had someone else know while you play a part.
An unexpected wave of pleasure knocks the breath out of you. You didn’t expect to find the prospect so…
“Fuck,” you whisper, blinking through stars. “I’ll meet your friends if you make me cum in the next thirty seconds.”
It takes him thirty-two, but considering the intensity of it, you decide to be generous.
You show up to base in a floral-print dress and pretty sandals. The key to Konig’s collar shines in the hollow of your throat on a dainty chain, prominently displayed. (His eyes keep skipping down to it. You pinch his thigh when he nearly misses a red light, chastising to be more careful. That only results in a plump outline down the thigh of his pants. Your mistake.) Hair done, a bit of makeup, you make for a nice character.
The head of Konig’s squad meets you first. Declan O’Conor, a shorter man who introduces himself with a wide smile, a rough Irish accent, and - most favorably - no appreciative glances at your body. Off to a surprisingly commendable start. You smile back and let Konig introduce you, eyes roaming the private KorTac compound.
Sleek black vehicles, modern-looking buildings. Distant pods of joggers on what looks like a training field. Even more distant sounds of guns. Passing personnel. Some of the men doing double takes, a couple of nudge-nudges. There’s not much of interest to you.
Declan shoos the two of you off after some pleasantries and an idea of where to find other members of Konig’s main squad.
You meet Aksel, Roze, Horangi, and Stiletto playing cards in one of the rec rooms. Roze teases Konig about finally bringing you ‘round. Aksel takes the initiative to stand to greet you - unnecessary, but not offensive. While his back is turned, Horangi peeks at his cards. You make eye contact with Stiletto when she notices as well and twitch your lips in a tiny, knowing smirk. Neither of you say a word.
Only two of them (Horangi and Roze) are on Konig’s usual team, but he’s worked with the other two before. You’re more interested in watching Konig interact with them. Like you, he tends to let others lead conversation in public - though the reasoning is different. At home, though, he usually initiates and you enjoy letting him talk and talk, only chiming in when asked for your opinion or reaction (or lack thereof).
Though you’re not left completely unincluded - the other KorTac members ask polite surface questions that you respond to automatically. It’s all habit, a performance you’ve given a thousand times, a veteran actor. You’ve perfected volume, pitch, inflection, spaces, down to the shape of your mouth as you speak. Your face is easier. People are good at expressions - too good. You hardly have to do anything to express easy-calm-friendly. Relaxed brows, a slight curve at the corners of your mouth, loose jaw. There: Konig’s normal, if shy, girlfriend.
When the two of you leave the rec room, Konig pulls you down a little side hallway and kisses desperately along your jaw.
“You are so good…” he mumbles breathlessly, “...so good at pretending.”
You snort, bemused. “Is that what it is?”
This is just being a person, out in the world. No one is their true selves around strangers, you thought. Is it so different when it’s you doing it?
He groans softly into your throat, mouthing at your necklace. “This will be harder than I thought.”
“We’re not fucking here,” you say.
“Yes, miss.”
You let him hide there for a moment longer, then usher him along to the next thing. He does manage to give you a decent tour of the facilities, telling you stories and explaining how KorTac does things.
You meet Hutch along the way, just a brief greeting in one of the halls. Again, not a usual member of Konig’s team but they’ve worked together before and Konig is full of pride and enthusiasm to show you off. (Maybe you’d be annoyed if his presentation was more “look what I bagged” rather than “look at who found me worthy”.)
It’s as he’s showing you one of the briefing rooms that you meet Krueger.
And you know, instantly. From the slow, exaggerated twice-over, to the obvious way he shifts his lower half, eyes lidded. You feel the mask of the day slip. 
“Is this the tail you’ve been chasing instead of your own, Bruder?” he asks, sauntering closer. He could say it in German - but he wanted you to hear it.
You blink once, slow.
Konig, at your side, hisses an embarrassed correction. Even with that ridiculous hood on, you know his face must be burning. You take a single, small step forward, meeting Krueger as he sidles up too close to be appropriate. You introduce yourself without offering a hand.
“Do you know what it is we do here, little girl?” he taunts. “What your boyfriend does?”
“Yes,” you answer.
“You know he is a sadistic fuck, eh? Can break a man’s spine over his knee.”
“It’s impressive,” you admit, shrugging.
He narrows his eyes, but it seems more mocking than challenging. He doesn’t think you are anything to take seriously. An interesting bauble to bat at and toy with, to see if you’ll jump or squeak for his entertainment. He cracks his neck and takes another step, the netting that hides his face playing shadows across what little skin is visible.
“Has he told you about me?” he asks, voice dipping.
He has. “Only some.”
He looms in closer, radiating menace. He’s a broad man, makes up for height with presence alone. Objectively intimidating, you suppose.
“Trying not to frighten you,” he coos, “what a sweet boyfriend.”
You hum, noncommittal. Not even sure if you can feel fear while conscious. In your nightmares, it’s visceral enough to taste - but it only ever lingers on the back of your tongue once you wake. After all, there’s nothing to fear among the living. Not anymore.
“Is there something to be frightened of?” you ask.
“I could tell you such tales,” he croons, bending his head to speak low and intimate. “Maybe even a demonstration… of the things they accuse me of…”
You see the flicker of his hand in the corner of your eye.
“Don’t touch me,” you warn.
He laughs, rust and dried blood. “Or what, little mouse?”
“You’ll regret it.”
You hear Konig shift behind you, though you can’t tell if it’s in preparation to intervene or out of pure arousal. Perhaps both.
“Is that a threat?” Krueger mocks.
You are under no delusions that you’re better equipped for a fight than him. He has more experience and training, he’ll win in an altercation, that’s just a fact. But you don’t have to win, that’s not what you’ve promised. You’ll just make him regret starting it in the first place.
You look him in the eye.
“Yes.”
His fingertips skim the strap of your dress. You lunge, slamming your forehead into his nose. It crunches. He jerks his hand back, instinctively reaching for his face, folding a bit. Point made, step back, adjusting your necklace into place again.
And then Konig reaches past you, snatching the shoulder of Krueger’s shirt and shaking him hard. He snarls out something in German, sending Krueger to his knees.
“I am sorry, miss,” he says to you fervently, “I am so sorry. I did not think - he is an asshole. I am sorry.”
You pat his arm, lean past his hulking form, still gripping Krueger now on his knees. You curl your fingers in the netted mask and jerk his head forward.
“This is the best way to stop the bleeding,” you say. “Don’t be rude again.”
He gurgles something out, you can’t even tell if it’s English or German. You release him and turn on your heel.
“The range is next, right?”
Konig is at your side instantly. “Yes, miss.”
You meet the last of Konig’s regular teammates outside the range. (You had to cut that little excursion short. Even seeing you with a gun in your hands had his knees shaky. You got through one magazine before he was making noises in the back of his throat. It took fifteen minutes for his erection to deflate a reasonable amount.)
He’s a big man, covered from head to toe in black tactical gear - again, with a mask. Coming in with a sniper rifle over his shoulder as you and Konig are leaving. His name is Nikto. You meet his eyes as you smile and nod in greeting, Konig introducing you like before.
Maybe you haven’t quite sunk back into your Normalness yet, or perhaps Not Quite People recognize each other. But he takes one look at you and knows. You know too. 
Apropos nothing, he offers you a wicked knife, hilt first. Your fingers don’t touch as you take it.
“For your next hunt,” he rumbles. “Konig is lucky.”
You blink as he walks off, glance at the blade in your hand. “It’s nice.”
Konig fidgets, staring after Nikto. “How did he know?”
You shrug.
Konig turns back to you, nervousness swirling. “Are you worried?”
You snort. “No.”
Why would a bear bother a mountain lion?
That night, you lay Konig down and grind your dripping pussy along the rigid length of his cock. He twists his fingers tight in the bed sheets (you already hear them tearing; you have spares for this) and cries while you recount every part of the day as if he wasn’t there with you. He’s stark naked, vulnerable, trembling while your dress drapes over your thighs, obscuring the obscene view of his cockhead rubbing your puffy clit.
He begs in intervals but you just keep speaking over him, recounting needless details like building names and the food served in the cafeteria. When you reach the end of the visit, you lean down. Propping yourself on his chest, you speak soft and syrupy warm into his ear.
“You did so well handling Krueger today. Such a good boy, keeping him down for me. I’m proud of you for knowing to wait. My good guard dog.”
He dissolves into a puddle in seconds, weakly asking permission to please, please, please let him cum early just this once.
You let him.
In gratitude, he eats you out until you fall asleep.
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devils-little-sista · 2 years
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brainrot-of-a-thot · 15 days
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I’ll wipe those tears til’ they stop falling.
or, they help you fight your demons, featuring: bofurin + jo togame
a/n: this was originally an ask, but I accidentally lost the original ask (I’m so sorry about that love!) and had to create a separate post. writing these actually gave me a sense of comfort as a long-time survivor of depression/self harm, and i hope it can give you all some comfort too if you’ve ever suffered from that <3
c/w: fairly heavy themes, such as undertones of depression/anxiety/self harm/relapse/bullying/suicidal thoughts/social anxiety (these aren’t explored too deeply, but they are there), hurt/comfort, fluff, soft!boys, protective!boys, established relationships, some language, hugs, self-harm scars, minor bad thoughts, togame’s has a very very little bit of spice in it
you are so strong and beautiful; keep holding on darling <3.
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“…I just don’t know if I can take it anymore, ume.” you sniffed, eyes glistening with tears that you desperately wished not to shed. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with me… I thought I was past all this.”
you had been keeping your distance from your boyfriend for a few weeks now; your conversations with him had grown infrequent due to your lack of energy. your own mind had been sapping it from you, filling your chest with a sense of isolation and hollowness as it forced you to push everyone away.
you didn’t understand why umemiya wasn’t angry at you, or why his eyes still glowed with ever-deepening adoration — he was sitting with you as if no time had ever passed, as if you hadn’t nearly cut him from your life.
umemiya’s hand was large and warm around yours, his long fingers slipped comfortably between the gaps of your own. he listened to you talk with a soft smile on his face; despite the turmoil rioting within you, the gentle expression still made your stomach erupt into butterflies.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” umemiya finally murmured, voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. “feeling emotions is proof that you’re alive. and it’s okay to not be okay, you know? but…”
umemiya used the leverage of his grip on your hand to pull you closer to him, until you had to shuffle into his lap just to avoid crashing into him. his body was warm beneath and against yours, and when he pressed your head comfortably into his chest with his other hand, his heartbeat seemed to resonate with and control your own.
“…when things start to get hard, don’t try to tackle them all alone. if you find that your strength is wavering, come to me. I’ll be your strength instead.”
those tears that you tried so desperately to keep at bay slipped out of your eyes like slick oil, sliding down the curve of your chin and plopping onto the front of umemiya’s shirt. your heart was shaky in your chest, each beat feeling constricted with the weight of intense emotions.
you weren’t even sure which one took the most precedent — happiness, shame, love, relief, frustration… they were all rampaging inside your chest, threatening to tear you apart at the seams.
god, you didn’t want to cry anymore.
“if you need to cry, don’t hold it back. I’ll stay with you — forever and ever, okay?”
well, as long as umemiya was there, maybe it was okay to cry for a while longer.
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there was an itch beneath your skin; one that was insistent and familiar. the voices around you grated in your ears, rousing up static within your mind. your breath rattled in your lungs as you tried to suck down air as inconspicuously as possible. when had it become so stuffy in here…?
pothos was the group hangout — one that you had become comfortable and familiar with. any other day, the clamor within it would have soothed you; the clinking of silverware, the harmony of your friends’ voices melding together, kotoha calling out orders or yelling at your booth to settle down.
but right now, it felt like too much — your skin was going to peel off. before you could stop yourself, you brought your hand up to your wrist. pain bloomed along your skin as you dug crescents into the tender flesh. the pain morphed into an anchor, one that could keep you from being tossed around by the tumultuous waves.
but all too soon, that anchor was ripped from you — by none other than sakura, who grabbed your wrist to halt your movements.
you fixed him with a look of shock — you were unable to read his eyes; you couldn’t see any anger, or disappointment, or shock. they were brimming with an emotion that you couldn’t identify.
sakura remained silent as he pulled your hand towards his body, and you watched as he guided it down to his own wrist.
“if you need to do that, do it to me instead.” sakura whispered, and your heart dropped in your chest. what was he saying? you couldn’t hurt sakura that way!
“but I c-couldn’t hurt you—” you started with a stutter, only for sakura to stop you by tightening his fingers ever so slightly around your wrist. that emotion in his eyes deepened even further, and his voice shook when he murmured,
“then you understand why I can’t watch you do it to yourself.”
your heart skipped a beat. ah, that’s what that emotion was. deep, unearthed concern, born from feelings so intense that they could barely be contained. sakura couldn’t stand to watch you hurt yourself, because simply watching you do it had the same effect as you digging your nails into his very heart.
“I won’t do it anymore.” you promised in a whisper, rocked to your own core by how sincere you were about the sentiment. you didn’t need to use pain as an anchor anymore — because you had sakura, and he was the strongest anchor you could ever ask for.
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“suo is dating her? but why?”
“I don’t know — she’s just so… plain, isn’t she?”
“I bet he lost a bet or something!”
their whispers echoed in your brain even long after they’d been uttered, slithering into the cracks of your subconscious and nesting there, until, at some point, you had begun to believe them.
why would suo choose you? out of everyone he could have, why would he choose the plainest girl in the town? you didn’t have any outstanding features, and your body was just on the low end of average — and suo was handsome, charming, talented and strong.
you used to believe that you had a place next to him, but now… now you weren’t so sure.
“you seem rather distracted, love; is something on your mind?” suo’s voice was like a soothing balm to your nerves, warm and familiar — but it struck a chord of pain in your chest, too, because it was just another reminder of how out of your league he was.
you swallowed thickly, those words once again bouncing around your skull. plain, average, untalented, dumb…
“suo, do you regret dating me?” you asked, choked up. you weren’t sure why you decided to phrase it that way; it just seemed to make the most sense that way.
suo fell silent. you didn’t dare raise your eyes to meet his — you couldn’t bare to see what may be within them. salty tears stung in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall; once you’d heard suo’s answer, you’d consider doing so. but until then, you would keep them contained.
there was the softest shuffle of movement, and in the next instant, you were letting out a small yelp as a body plopped down on the tatami mat behind you, and strong arms snaked around your waist.
the strong scent of patchouli invaded your nose and soft threads tickled your collarbone when suo hooked his head over your shoulder. suo was warm, enveloping your entire body from behind and filling you with a sense of safety.
“the only thing I regret,” suo started softly, his voice deep and reverent. “is not meeting you sooner.”
and suo’s voice was raw with such sincere emotion that the few words he’d uttered held more impact on your heart than a million reassurances.
your tears fell in unbidden rivulets from your eyes, but they were weighed down by pure happiness.
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“… I swear, one of these days I really am going to back kick him into a different dimension…”
you wanted to pay attention to what your boyfriend was saying; really, you did. but your mind was so occupied by other thoughts — or, more accurately, occupied with keeping out other thoughts.
the urges had been more frequent, lately. it wasn’t as though anything was going wrong in your life; your grades were spectacular, you were surrounded by warm friends, and you were dating one of the best people on earth — yet, those thoughts and those feelings were still creeping in.
that drawer you had closed so long ago resonated with enticing whispers, the tiny objects located within beckoning you to pick them up once more.
come back to us… we’re your true friends. don’t you remember how much we helped you? how free you felt with us?
you shivered. even when you weren’t in your room, even when you couldn’t see the door of that drawer, you could still hear them.
“…babe? are you okay?” you blinked back to reality at the sound of hiragi’s voice calling out to you — it was then that you’d realized you had stopped in your tracks, and hiragi was standing in front of you, one large hand wrapped around your wrist and face painted with an expression of worry. how long had he been calling out to you?
“I-I’m sorry, what were you saying, hiragi?” you asked, almost robotically. those whispers had shirked into the shadows of your mind, but you could still hear them hissing at you.
hiragi studied you for a long moment, his eyes shaded with something you couldn’t put your finger on.
“the urges have come back, haven’t they?” hiragi asked suddenly. his voice held no judgement, anger, or sadness, and his eyes remained fixed in yours while he stroked the skin of your held wrist with his thumb. the scars, you realized belatedly. you swallowed thickly before nodding, tears gathering in your eyes.
you wished you could say no — you wished you could tell hiragi that you’d completely forgotten about the blades in your drawer; or better yet, that you’d thrown them in the trash rather than stowing them away out of sight.
but you couldn’t.
hiragi sighed softly and glanced down at your hand. after a moment, he slid his hand from your wrist to your hand, and with gentle fingers, he pried it open until it was facing palm up. he kept it in his grip as he used his free hand to remove his necklace from his neck.
he placed the jewelry into your palm, the metal warm from the heat of his chest. your eyes widened. he never took that off.
when hiragi was sure you had a firm hold on the necklace, he dropped your hand and brought both of his up to cradle your face. he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead in a sweet, chaste kiss.
“when those urges come, grab onto that necklace. use it as a reminder that I love you, and even when I’m not there, I’m still with you.”
hiragi’s breath was warm against your forehead, and you could feel the slide of his lips across the skin as he spoke. the depth of his words wrapped around you like the softest, comfiest blanket, and as hiragi gathered you into his arms to hold you tight, you realized that the whispers were silent.
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you’d been with togame for a couple of months now — and you couldn’t be happier. he was an unbelievable package; sweet and loving, tall, romantic, considerate, and attractive to an extent that was almost unfair. but best of all, he let the relationship unfold at your pace.
there was no rush from him; whether it was kissing or sharing deep secrets, he let you do it on your own time. it was a monumental relief, especially in the physical aspect.
because you were hiding something from togame — something you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to show him.
your scars.
buried deep into your wrists, straight and jagged, crisscrossing and bumping — they were ugly, mars against the smooth expanse of the rest of your arm.
you had long since put down the knife. It had been over a year since you last cut, and as of late, you were no longer struggling with the urges of relapse. you had togame to thank for that.
it made you feel horrible. togame never hid anything from you — he’d even told you about the cruel things he’d done, about how he used to treat people. how much he’d hated himself then. he offered himself up as an open book for you to read any time you pleased.
and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to show him. you couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing who you used to be, what you used to do. you were terrified of his reaction, terrified that it would make him treat you differently.
terrified that he would love you differently.
you didn’t want togame’s view of you to change; even if it meant hiding something so big from him. it was selfish and incredibly unfair, you knew this. but you were too weak, too scared. you didn’t want to lose togame.
you didn’t want togame to be grossed out by you.
but, as they say, things that are hidden in the dark must always come to the light, and they’ll do so in some way or another.
maybe it was just karmic retribution that it turned out this way; or maybe it was your own raging hormones, the ones that beckoned you to shed your long-sleeved shirt to feel togame’s skin against your own.
whatever it was, it was too late to assign blame — because your shirt was off, and togame had seen; his emerald eyes were glued to your left wrist, to the scars that littered the skin.
you held your breath while your heart shuddered in your chest. you were unable to read togame’s expression — at this point, you weren’t sure if it was because there wasn’t any emotion behind his expression or because your own mortification was blinding you.
for a moment, togame was simply silent. then, his eyes slid from your wrist and back to your face, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he leaned back down and recaptured your lips in a kiss. the heat he’d had before hadn’t faded in the least, but you were so shocked and confused that you couldn’t respond.
there were many thoughts racing through your mind, but plucking a single one out to focus on was near impossible. why wasn’t togame reacting to them? did he not care?
“they don’t change a thing,” togame suddenly murmured against your lips, sending your train of thought to a screeching halt. “they don’t change the way I feel about you. they don’t change the way I see you. you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
you couldn’t understand why, but togame’s words brought tears to your eyes. they were fat and salty, sliding from the corners of your eyes and soaking straight into the freshly clean sheets. your heart felt like it was aching — but it was the ache that came from fullness, from emotion so strong that it threatened to completely shatter its container.
unadulterated love and acceptance. that’s what these warm, intense feelings were. he loved and accepted you, scars and all; and togame kissed and soothed that sentiment straight into your body, heart and soul — until there was no other thing you could do except feel it.
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mavrintarou · 5 months
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[Daddies in December] Kita Shinsuke
Daddy Shinsuke is so wholesome.
Warning: fluff & soft smut
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Shinsuke has been staring at his new lockscreen photo. Though he loves all and any photo with Y/n, his lovely wife, this one was by far his favorite.
It was a shot of Shinsuke hugging his wife from behind, his lips pressed to her shoulder and his hands placed on her six-month pregnant belly.
When Y/n and Shinsuke found out they were expecting, they kept the news to themselves for now. It was Y/n’s idea to announce it with their annual Christmas photo.
When they received their photos from the photographer, Shinsuke was almost brought to tears. They were so breathtaking and he loved every one of them.
Now that the news of their pregnancy was announced, Y/n and Shinsuke could finally share their journey with their family and friends on social media.
With two months left of her pregnancy, Y/n wanted to have a babymoon for Christmas. Their last get-away with just the two of them.
.
“Wow,” Y/n exclaims in awe at the mountainous panorama, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, cool mountain air. “Just what I need…” She looks over her shoulder and calls for her husband. “Come look at this view.”
Shinsuke pauses on unpacking and walks over, he wraps his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “Glad you like it.”
Shinsuke took on the responsibility of choosing the babymoon destination, opting for a location that was sufficiently distance yet still within a reasonable proximity to the nearest hospital as a precaution.
He plants a gentle kiss on her temple, saying, “I can’t wait for the arrival of our baby, but at the same time, I realize I’ll miss these moments when it’s just the two of us.”
Sensing something wrong with his tone, Y/n turned around and cupped his face, staring deeply into his eyes. Shinsuke could never hide his emotions from Y/n, “what’s wrong?”
Shinsuke couldn’t bring himself to admit that his mind was burdened by the increasing anxiety about the approaching due date of the baby. It has finally hit him that things will change between him and Y/n.
It dawned on him that he was… jealous of his child.
Once the baby arrives, the attention will now be directed to the baby, and the time between them two will decrease and be limited.
He felt embarrassed at his pathetic thoughts.
Y/n’s hands squeezed his cheeks and she asked again softly, “what is wrong? Hmm?”
Shinsuke is soft for Y/n’s cooing. That’s what made him fall head over heels for her. She knew how to talk to him, how to soften his heart and turn his world upside down.
It was especially something else when she would coo lewd words into his ears when he was balls deep inside her.
“I…” he inhales sharply. “I have been feeling that when baby arrives, our time together will be limited.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckles, “I don’t know why I’ve been feeling uneasy… but I think all in all, I’m just not quite ready to share you yet.” He gently knocks his forehead with hers, “I sound selfish and stupid, huh?” He frowns when he doesn’t get a response from her, but her shoulders tremble. Shinsuke looks at her, trying to get a glimpse of her face but she has it covered by her hand. “What’s wrong?”
Her laughter erupted as she buried her face into his chest.
After allowing her to laugh it out, she finally looks up at him, “I thought I was the only one feeling that way!”
The corner of his lips curved, “you were feeling… the same way too?”
She nodded, hugging him. “Yes, I was having a reality check, that this is it… we’re having a baby, our baby, and our lives as just the two of us are going to change. For the best of course, but like it won’t be the same again, you know?” Y/n looked up at him and he nodded, cupping her face. “But we have nothing to worry about. I think it is good that we realize this so we remind ourselves to make time for just the two of us. Continue to go on dates with just the two of us… maybe ask my mom to babysit for a weekend so we can get a mini getaway…”
“I like that,” Shinsuke whispers, feeling a sense of relief. “I feel so much better.”
Y/n lifts herself on her tippytoes, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “Okay, now make love to me.”
.
“Wait, Shin…” Y/n’s sentence is cut off with a moan as his fingers dipped into her heat.
She sat in front of him, her legs spread wide, hooking over his as his fingers move in and out of her pussy. In front of their bed was a large mirror that was attached to the dresser, this allowed her to watch him finger her.
“Do you like watching yourself get fingered by me?” Shinsuke nipped her ear, thrusting his two fingers knuckles deep. “You keep tightening around me, does it turn you on?” He adds another finger, and used his thumb to rub her clit. “Answer me, hmm?”
Reaching up, Y/n cups his cheek, turning to kiss him. “Fuck, yes… I love your fingers…”
“Keep watching,” he urged, looking at their reflection. The moment he walked into the bedroom, he saw the position of the mirror and his mind was instantly filled with lewd fantasy.
Her eyes met his through the mirror reflection before getting distracted at the sight of his three fingers thrusting in her pussy. “E – enough, Shin… I want you…”
“How do you want me?”
“Let me ride you.”
He withdrew his fingers and watched her shift herself on top of him in a reverse cowgirl position. Shinsuke guided her hips down until she swallowed him whole. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror, savoring the joy of witnessing the expressions she wears every time she takes his cock.  
Shinsuke sighed deep within his throat as Y/n began to rock her hips and gradually speed her movement until she was bouncing on his lap. He was a traditional man, always enjoying a good old missionary position but he will never complain when Y/n takes charge and leads them to their orgasm.
Y/n shifts forward, leveling herself forward on her hands and rocking her hips slowly. Since her pregnancy, she has gotten tired more easily.
Sensing that she is exhausted, Shinsuke chuckles and guides her off. He repositions himself behind her and shifts her onto her hands and knees. Reaching behind him, he collected the pillow and placed it beneath her before pressing a hand to her upper back. “I’ll take it from here.”
Y/n hummed tiredly, resting her face against the fluffy pillow.
Shinsuke guides his cock back into her sopping pussy, gripping her hips, he rolled his hips in deep thrusts.
She was close, and so was he.
“Shin…” Y/n gasped, “please… please…” she begged, “faster.”
He did the exact opposite, he went slower, rolling his hips. When he felt her walls begin to tighten, he snapped his hips faster until she came, trembling around his cock. He followed her shortly, he pulled back until only the tip remained inside her and watched his cock jerk each time he came.
His cock slips out and immediately his thick white cum flowed out. Gently and carefully, he shifts her to the side before lying down beside her. “Nap time?”
She nodded with flushed cheeks. “And then round two.”
Who was he to deny her?
. . .
E/n: I hope everyone had a good holiday <3
>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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princeofwittenberg · 4 months
Text
Screaming out into the void once again about how painful it has been to lose so many former friends since 7/10. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s most likely ignorance not malice but it is really really hard to feel like the people who you once trusted now wouldn’t care if you died and it’s really hard not to take that personally.
I keep having these thoughts of like “how little did you ever respect me if you can believe blatant misinformation calling my people genociders?” And how little must you respect me to not even ask me why I would be supporting a side that you think is committing genocide?
So many of my former friends, people who I thought knew me well, overnight decided that I’m a terrible person who would support a genocide and didn’t even bat an eye. What the fuck ? Why do you think so little of me? Doesn’t it make more sense that you have it wrong? Or have I always just been this evil person to them?
I’m lucky to have a great Jewish community and lots of Jewish friends to feel supported by but I’m in a place of total loss of goyische friends and total distrust in the non-Jewish community because I have no idea who will listen to me and who is just going to spit vitriol in my face. Non-Jewish places don’t feel safe anymore because I am tip-toeing around people trying to figure out if the topic will come up and what to say so I don’t get the look of disgust I keep getting from people who just don’t know anything. It’s like a constant state of social anxiety but I don’t think I’m overreacting.
I wish I could just sit down with people and help them understand what’s actually going on, help them identify their antisemitism, help them understand the conflict and how to actually support Palestinians, but no one wants to listen. They just want the easy, un-nuanced answer so they don’t have to think, but that answer is wrong. And it’s hurting people.
The feelings from this are going to linger for a long time. I’m really scared that my trust around non-Jews is never going to return to where it was before. And I hate that. I don’t want to be isolationist.
But I have so much hurt inside me that I can’t resolve, so much that it feels like it’s suffocating me sometimes. It’s pain, and mourning, and grief, and anger, and it’s like I have to keep taking the hits.
B’ezrat Hashem the hostages will be released soon and Hamas will be dismantled and we can return to peace. But I’ll be honest tikvah is not my strong suit right now.
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its-time-to-write · 9 months
Text
ch. 1 - hustling for the good life
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please never let me write a series again. if I say i’m going to, please remind me that it’s the worst and i’ll hate myself for it. anyway, here it is and yeah, i got self conscious about it. uhh also Jamie doesn’t show up till chapter 2.
table of contents
cowboy like me
Getting from the car to the hotel lobby should not be this challenging. It’s not even that far a distance, but the moment your car pulls up to the doors, you understand that this is going to take a lot of pushing, shoving, and flashing cameras.
“How’d they even know I was going to be here?” you ask your assistant-turned-best-friend Natalie.
She grimaces. “I was kind of trying to keep this from you, but your new makeup artist has been leaking your location. That’s why it’s been hell the past week or so.”
You groan and say, “Shit, and she was so nice, too! Who would’ve thought?”
Natalie shrugs. “I had my suspicions from the beginning. Gotta tell you, it was hard fucking work catching her in the act without you knowing.”
You smile and pinch Natalie’s arm affectionately. “This is why you’re the best, Nat. You’re always fighting a losing battle against my anxiety.”
She grins back and says, “You ready to brave the paps? Be warned, they’re going to be particularly vicious.”
“Obviously,” you reply. “They’re probably all wondering why I don’t have a ring on my finger.”
Natalie makes an ick noise and says, “I, for one, am glad you don’t. I think I’d have to quit if you married him.”
You laugh as your door opens and your bodyguard begins to usher you inside. You’re glad you’re not marrying him either.
Fame is weird because it pretty much means your entire job is based on other people’s perception of you. They never have any idea what’s actually going on, and if the people decide they don’t like you, you’re done. You like to keep your personal life, well, pretty personal. That means social media accounts run by a publicist, a secret apartment, large sunglasses, tinted windows, and a fuck-ton of coffee.
Your last three relationships had all been for publicity and you didn’t mind so much, but it was odd. There was an actor, a guitarist, and (most recently) a model. They were all incredibly sweet, which you understand is a rarity. Fake relationships have the tendency to run sour, but they were just genuinely kind people. 
The last one, the model, had commented on your ability to detach one night. He specifically noted how you could fake a sparkle in your eyes, the kind that you’re only supposed to have when you’re really in love. You had laughed and patted his cheek, and told him that you didn’t want to be in love. It’s easy to fake something you don’t truly desire because there’s no underlying pain in your eyes.
The actor and guitarist had said similar things, the actor in particular telling you that you should consider switching which business you were in. You just grinned and told him some lyrics for a the song you’d release when you two broke up.
Love is a hassle. You don’t need it. You’ll take your nice car over an open heart any day.
It’s late but not too late as you and Natalie lay on the giant bed in your room, face masks on and glass of wine in hand.
“I still don’t understand why you won’t even keep ten percent of your new EP,” she says as you absently watch the show on the TV. “You’re making so much off it, that it wouldn’t make a difference.”
You shake your head. “Mango was always going to be for that charity,” you reply. “It doesn’t make sense that I would tell their stories and then profit off it. It’s their album, I was just the execution.”
Natalie raises an eyebrow as she says, “But no one knows what it’s about. Or that you’re the one donating all that money. Honestly, I’m shocked that no one in that entire organization has figured out what’s happening yet.”
“Well, I think Christine probably has an idea,” you laugh. “She always could see right through me. And the girls I talked to promised to keep it to themselves. You know, they each get a percentage too.”
Natalie nods. “I know,” she says. “I understand your vision, I really do. I just need to check in with you every now and then, so I know you understand what you’re doing.”
“I do,” you reply. “I really do.”
Mango was a one-off EP you created after becoming financially involved with an organization specializing in helping women escape domestic violence. A little heavy for someone whose songs were best listened to on a sunny day, but you needed something real. You hated the way you felt separate from real people and Christine, your point of contact, had given you a lifeline. Your money now had use, beyond buying loved ones houses and cars and whatever else they could possibly want. You didn’t want to become publicly involved, and the whole company was great with keeping you anonymous. You’d talked to so many women who had stories of love turned rotten, and the hope they’d been able to find. 
You wrote a few songs about some of them, supposed to be a personal gift for those who had touched you.
It was Claire, the one who had told you the story that inspired Mango, who said you should release it.
You’d protested at first but the other girls caught wind of Claire’s vendetta and pushed you into it as well. 
Natalie helped you put your vision to paper, and contracts were written so the money Mango made would go to its true visionaries.
It was satisfying in a way that no other album had been.
It had depth, it was personal, it was upbeat but in a real way, and it had a strange sadness laced throughout each track.
You came across a tweet that said, I don’t know why I’m crying to Kitchen Epiphany, but it’s 3am and I can’t stop sobbing. 
That’s exactly what you wanted. Nothing is explicitly sad in the song, it’s actually one of the most sunny songs on the EP, but still. There was something that people could feel, could connect to.
You think that feeling is better than any type of love.
The trip to London is another PR thing. “Blue Glass singer/songwriter spotted in London on the heels of breakup with model ex,” said one newspaper. 
“Mango artist has let her man go,” said another.
“I think they could have done better with that pun,” Natalie remarks. You giggle. 
“I don’t give a shit, as long as they’re buying what I’m selling. It’s just nice to be out of America for a little bit.”
Natalie squints at her phone and says, “You know you’re here for work, right? You have that interview in an hour, plus we have a party tonight. You don’t have to pretend to be sad for this one, apparently you’re supposed to move on quick and act like you’re ‘happy, single, and unburdened.’”
You’re not sure who exactly she’s quoting, but you’re pretty sure she’s reading some message from someone in charge of your image. They don’t do a bad job, but they could do better.
The interview is good, done by a sweet girl who asks interesting questions about aesthetics and personal projects, things a little different from your normal interviews. 
You head back to the hotel and figure out what you’re going to wear to this party, some football thing, while Natalie laments her inability to wear slippers.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she says as she rummages through her makeup bag, “I fucking love the way heels look. But my feet are absolutely ruined and I just want to wear something comfortable for once.”
You hold up an ice-blue dress to the mirror. “You should just do it, Nat. It’s not like anyone’s actually going to care. I sure as hell don’t give a shit.”
Natalie’s head shoots up to look at you. “Are you serious? Please tell me you are. If you say I can, I’m totally not wearing real shoes.”
You decide to wear the dress and say, “Natalie Herrera, you can do whatever your heart desires. I literally could not care less.”
She squeals and says, “Oh my god, ok, ok, I’m going to the shops right now and I’m going to buy a cute pair. Oh my god, I’m so excited.”
“If you find a really good pair, get me some too,” you call after her, “I want some to wear around the room.”
table of contents
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veshiro · 5 months
Text
Million Dollar Man - Rui Kamishiro
x fem!reader
-> in which you find yourself saved by Rui pretending to be your boyfriend...
notes: yes, there will be a part two ;)
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It started off with innocent glances that you could only pass off as observing. It hadn’t bothered you that someone seemed to occupy their eyes on you as it felt harmless. A man across the room was swirling his glass around in his hand, watching as the liquid topples around the sides, while having his gaze linger on you.
Tsukasa had invited the troupe to his after-party with his acting class to celebrate a great show, and naturally, you got to come along. At this point it felt as if you were an honorary member, occasionally helping to polish off scripts and brainstorm plots with their director, but you weren’t much of an actor yourself. The troupe mingles amongst themselves until Rui branches off first, choosing to make conversation with one of the professionals to gain some insight into his own skills. Nene clings to your side knowing you aren’t the type to butt into a conversation like the others. You accept a beverage generously offered by the class and are pleased to find it’s tart cherry sparkling water. 
“If Tsukasa wasn’t having the time of his life with his classmates I think I would go congratulate him,” You speak to Nene first, breaking the slightly awkward silence between the two of you. 
“He’ll come around eventually,” She replies, “he can never get too much attention.”
You laugh lightly and drink more of the water, the aftertaste leaving you thirsty from the tartness. It felt wrong to be standing silent in the middle of the room, or maybe it was the social anxiety creeping up to make you question yourself.
“Should we introduce ourselves around? Join one of the others?” 
Emu seemed to be having the time of her life. The girl was laughing with the actor who starred as Wendy and appeared to be doing fine on her own. Rui looked intrigued by his conversation with an older, wise-looking man. No doubt he was gaining critical information he could use for the next performance. 
“I’m going to head to the restrooms,” Nene announces and points down the hallway. 
“I’ll wait.”
She seemed pleased by your words and offered a small smile and nod before departing. Staying true to your word, you stayed put and occasionally sipped on the beverage until the glass was empty. You make a mental note to grab a refill before everyone leaves.
“What is a fine girl like you doing alone in a place like this?” 
You flinch slightly, not expecting a deep voice to be right next to your ear. Nonetheless, you keep your cool appearance and turn around, not entirely surprised to see your not-so-secret admirer from earlier. Choosing to ignore his rather sexual comments, you take a steady step back to gain some distance. 
“I’m with my friends, actually. One of them was in the play.”
“I don’t see anyone with ya. I won’t abandon ya like they did.” 
His smirk is lopsided in a dark way, a grin full of malice. Alarms immediately set off in your body, but it wasn’t like you could do much against him, and he knew that. Your eyes search and search but you’ve lost sight of Rui, and you can’t exactly turn around to quickly spot the others. 
Where is Nene? Can’t she hurry up just this once?
“I’m not interest, sorry.”
Apologizing made you feel icky inside, but it’s best to seem polite and not to provoke a man like him. 
“Oh come on. What are you, a student?”
Lie. 
“A graduate.” You say curtly.
“I don’t believe that.” 
You want to crawl into a hole and die to cleanse yourself of the ick this man gives you. He senses your unease and knows that he has the advantage.
Where did everyone go?
“Why don’t we…” He steps closer, a smell of cigarettes and alcoholic makes you almost gag, “have some fun?” 
“I’m–” You swallow.
“Ah, dearest! There you are,” A firm hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close. “I was wondering where you had run off to.” 
A flood of sweet vanilla fills your nostrils and easily combats the foul scent of the creep. The moment the scent settled you knew who it was and calmed down. 
Is this the game we’re playing? You shoot the question silently with a pointing gaze. His cheshire smile says enough.
“I was waiting for our friend,” You don’t dare say her name, just in case. “She should be on her way back anytime now.”
Rui nods in understanding and turns his attention to the creep. His gaze locks, his eyes narrow, and if looks could kill, the creep would be in the deepest pit of hell.
“Have a kick out of making my girl uncomfortable during a celebration as lively as this?”
You hate to admit it, but hearing that term of endearment stirs something inside of you. Was it adoration? Gratefulness? It couldn’t possible be anything more, now that would be troublesome, wouldn’t it?
“She’s yours? I’m sorry, didn’t know, dude.”
A look of disgust crosses your friend’s face before the creep’s words even burn into your mind.
“She isn’t just an object to lay claim to,” His grip on your waist tightens, and you don’t think he even realizes. “She’s her own person. A smart, independent, and fucking capable woman.”
Damn. If you hadn’t had any sort of feelings for Rui before, you certainly do now. No one has defended you with such passion and demand before. It felt nice. Validating. 
“You–” The creep points a finger and tries to step closer to the two of you, but Rui is quick to shut that attempt down. He pulls you slightly behind him, and by now the attention of others has been attracted. 
“I suggest you stand down,” Rui smirks and plays with a pen he had been holding to take notes in his pocket notebook. He always insisted on bringing it wherever because 'you never know when inspiration may strike'. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene now would we?”
The creep grumbles and contemplates his options. It wasn’t looking good for him, and the troupe had gathered behind you and Rui to back him away even more. He seems to decide you weren’t worth the wrath of the man protecting you and backs away, leaving the venue with a pissed off attitude. 
“You’re okay?” Rui’s persona switches around completely. His once malicious-laced words are now soft and cushion any hurt that creep may have inflicted. 
“I’m okay.”
He smiles and his hand draws back. Your waist feels oddly cold now. And just like that, everything goes back to normal.
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pensat-i-fet · 11 months
Text
Support (John Stones x Reader)
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**I got a request to write for Stones and then @faye01mcfc​ gave me an idea of what to write about specifically. Also, I’ve only done it twice but I’m kind of into using just one word as the title. Enjoy reading!! ❤️**
Word count: 1621
Masterlist
Wattpad
John had gotten used to winning trophies in the last couple of years but the treble felt much more special. And if there was someone he wanted to celebrate that achievement with, it was you.
Some of his teammates headed to Ibiza for a pre-celebration and he joined them. It was a good time, sure. But deep down, he couldn't wait to just be with you.
"You're back!", you said surprised and ran to the door to greet him.
"Yes. I got bored of my teammates and decided to come back a bit earlier".
"Don't get bored of me now, then".
"Never".
John was obviously tired after the last couple of days, so you just had some quiet time together.
"I'll make some dinner".
"Ok. Oh by the way, we have a lot of events tomorrow so I'll leave quite early. We can meet after the parade, right?"
"The parade?", you knew there would be one, of course. But just the thought of it made you feel cold sweat on your skin.
"I can't go", you said quietly.
"Do you have work?"
"No. I just…".
He let out a dry laugh. "I'm not surprised. You never come to anything with me. And I usually don't mind if football is not your thing but this is the most important moment of my career. And my girlfriend won't be there".
"It's just that…".
"Everyone gets support from their partners. But all I get is an empty seat to look at. Do you know how that makes me feel?"
"I'm sorry".
"Do you even care about me? Do you care about my career? Sometimes I wonder…".
"Of course I do, John".
"Then show it to me!"
"It's just…I…", you didn't know how to say the words. A part of you almost wished he was just mad at you. But he was disappointed and hurt. And that broke your heart. "You're right. You deserve better".
"Wait what?"
You picked up your jacket and bag and made your way to the door.
"What do you mean? Where are you going?"
"I can't be here right now. I'm sorry I keep hurting you. You deserve someone who supports you. Not me…".
"What are you trying to say? Just stay and we can talk. Don't go".
"I have to".
John just stared at the door wondering what had happened. Were you…breaking up with him? What was going on?
He tried to give you a couple of hours to do whatever you needed to do to clear your head but was also worried about anything happening to you.
All his calls went straight to voicemail and he was getting desperate not knowing how to contact you.
When his phone rang, he hoped it was you but it was an unknown number. He normally wouldn't answer but it could be you calling from another number or something, so he couldn't risk not answering.
"Hello?"
"John? I'm Alicia".
He was right to answer then. Alicia was one of your best friends.
"Do you know where she…?"
"She's here".
"Thank God. Is she ok?"
"Sort of? I mean, she's trying to keep it together but she keeps saying that it's all her fault whenever you call and she refuses to answer. So I got your number from her phone and called you without her knowing. She's taking a shower".
"Can I go there and see her?"
"Please. I hate seeing her like this. I know how hard it's for her to open up and she ends up hurting herself more".
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you know. She struggles so much with talking about feelings and then there's her horrible social anxiety".
Now it all made sense. But why didn't you tell him?
"Yes. Don't tell her I'm on my way, please. I'll be there soon".
He went to his car and drove to Alicia's place. All of a sudden, he felt so nervous to talk to you.
You were always so supportive whenever he mentioned his insecurities after a bad match. But…didn't you think he could do the same for you?
"Come in. I'll go to my room, she's over there".
"Thank you".
Alicia nodded before leaving you two alone to talk.
"Ali? Who is it?"
"Me".
"What are you doing here?"
"Trying to find why my girlfriend ran away?", he laughed, nervously.
"It's all too much, John".
"Alicia told me without knowing she did".
You frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Your social anxiety? It's that why you don't come to matches or events or anything?"
You nodded, biting your lip and looking down, ashamed. "I'm sorry".
"For what? The only thing you did wrong was not telling me. I would have understood. I'm not going to force you to do something that hurts you".
"But it's stupid. I'm like a little child. Actually, it's gotten worse. I was better as a child".
John sat down next to you and held your hand. "I'm getting worse too, you know? I left Ibiza because the plan bored me. And there will be moments that bore me at the parade too. And look at Julián! He felt so uncomfortable celebrating on the pitch because that's hard for him too. You're not the only one who goes through that and your age means nothing in this case".
"But you deserve to be supported".
"You support me. It was really unfair saying you don't. You do it in the way you can and I appreciate it so much".
You were still not sure. "But you'd be disappointed if I don't go to the parade…".
He laughed and you noticed it was a nice laugh. He wasn't laughing at you.
"Well, now I know why you can't go, I'd rather you stay home, to be honest. I'll be so worried thinking about you being overwhelmed by all the people and all that".
"I'm still sorry".
"How about this? You skip the parade and come to the dinner afterwards. It's just the players and their families. No photographers or cameras. No drunk fans. Just drunk players but we can sit away from them".
You chuckled thinking about the players you would be avoiding then.
"I could try that".
"And if you feel it's too much, we leave".
"I'd like to do that".
"Yeah?", his big smile was contagious. So you smiled back and nodded.
After your talk, you both went back home and kept chatting about why it was so hard for you to deal with certain social interactions. John couldn't relate to all of it but understood your feelings anyways.
"I wish you had told me earlier", he said.
"I wish I had too. I'm always scared of people's reactions to hearing about it but you've been great since you found out".
So the next morning, it was time to get ready for a long day. You just had to go to work like any other day. But John had all these events he had to attend. He didn't struggle like you did but was definitely tired of all of it by the time of the parade. He just wanted to go to the team's dinner and see you. Hoping you would be fine.
He had warned some of his teammates and they understood. They weren't going to bother you much but would try to make you feel welcome.
"Hey! You look stunning!"
You smiled at John. It's true that you made a bit of a bigger effort. The whole process of picking up the outfit and doing your makeup helped you forget about your nerves for a while so that was nice too.
"Thank you. Should we meet everyone?"
He nodded, leading you to the first group of teammates.
"Oh wow, you actually exist. We thought John had made you up".
You laughed while John rolled his eyes. "He was clearly hiding her because of how beautiful she is", said another one of his teammates.
"Ok, enough of this group. Let's go meet the others".
"See? Hiding her again".
Their jokes made you loosen up a bit and by the time you had met everyone, you felt slightly better.
"Do you want to come with us to have a drink?", offered Kevin's wife and you pushed yourself a little further and said yes.
"Come back if it gets too much, ok? I'll be right here", whispered John when he leaned down to kiss your cheek. And after nodding, you joined the rest of the women.
"John told you to make an effort for me, right?"
"Yes, isn't it sweet? We were just happy to finally meet you".
"It's nice meeting you too", you said sincerely. "Hopefully, I'll be able to attend matches next season and we can hang out more".
"You're always welcome. Want another glass?"
You nodded and took the glass of champagne. You weren't really into drinking but it was helping you relax.
When you joined John again, he noticed how giggly you had gotten and frowned, curious about the change.
"Had a good time with the girls?"
"Yes, they were super nice. Everyone is super nice".
"Good", he nodded and then saw you grab another glass of champagne and drink it way too fast. "Wow! Easy! You're not used to that so don't try to outdrink Jack".
"I don't think that's humanly possible".
He laughed, holding the glass for a second so you could drink it more slowly.
"It does help a bit. To feel less overwhelmed".
"That's ok. But you can't just have a bottle of champagne every time you feel anxious", he laughed and you pouted.
"Party pooper".
"We'll work on finding what helps the best, ok?"
And you nodded, looking forward to having him help you face your problems.
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weirdmageddon · 9 months
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can someone explain what “weed paranoia” is?
ive never experienced it, all i experience is like….relaxation, monotropic autism flow state, calms me down enough to not get overstimulated by my own thoughts (i feel more at ease with my thoughts coming and going, i kinda go into free flow thought tunnels without getting hung up or ever spiraling. in fact, the opposite, where it’s like a “catch and release” sort of experience to train of thought most of the time. i mean i’ll still definitely hyperfocusing on something which you could consider getting “hung up” on but thats just normal autism stuff and i feel like i can mine for more deeper insight riches in those hyperfixation tunnels when high.
it also definitely helps me unmask. like my mask is sort of built into my core personality and “self” but i find it hard if not impossible to shut off even when im alone because ive internalized the external social sphere. but THC (i should note im taking Δ9) like…. takes the edge off, and i feel less conflicted about my thoughts? like i’m more confident in getting my thoughts out there without worrying about people judging me for how i phrase things or how hyperspecific im being to my own interests. i feel like i dont have to water things down as much because i dont feel as threatened by judgment externally, and in turn internally
i looked up my question about what “weed paranoia” feels like on reddit and the common answers ive seen were:
generalized anxiety
“everyone knows” / you feel like people are watching or judging you and that youre gonna be in trouble
“You’re very aware of your own actions and existence, and assume everyone else is also.”
heightened self-reflection (for some people this freaks them out??) because different perspective
more vulnerable
but i’m not satisfied with these answers??
i want to know if people who get paranoid have these traits while sober/before getting high. like, is it just non-introspective people getting freaked out because they’re considering their own actions/thoughts and existence? or do introspective people who are used to metacognition also getting freaked out?
are people afraid of confronting their weaknesses that weed makes them aware of? are people who normally hide from truths more likely to get paranoid?
ok so i can only fully know my own mind; that is my reality. i have a habit of assuming people more or less share the same phenomenological experiences in their minds, but since i’m autistic i’ve had to expand this boundary over and over continually reconciling with way more diverging phenomenological experiences than i thought.
so i normally i have thoughts about my own thoughts pretty much at least five times every hour, every single day of the week. i do not experience is not a bad thing, it’s a neutral and even good thing. i think i am insightful by nature and always have been, ive been described as such. i don’t know how normal this is for the average person. weed does enhance these metacognitive thoughts i have to an even higher level, and i feel very, very pulled towards them in a good, flow state way. ive also been told my guarded chilly heart melts a bit and i become more open/vulnerable while stoned but that’s because i don’t feel as vulnerable as i normally do. so i dont hide or clam up as much away from psychological openness or whatever exact shit enneagram type 5 is on
but anyway even without weed i normally feel “outside” of my own thoughts, always judging them from a third person perspective, or even multiple third person perspectives through reframing. so i dont feel like i have a defined or clearly illuminated sense of self. i’m not trying to really “find myself” so much as uncover it. like, it’s definitely there to begin with i can feel its presence, but the specifics are obscured and i’m trying to bring them to light. i automatically isolate logical components from emotional components into their own boxes and rarely acknowledge the emotional box because it’s unhelpful in more circumstances than not so it’s all a pretty clinical process when i make sense of things
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because i can do this i’m never afraid of the truth; in fact i actively go in search of it and honestly it feels like THC helps me achieve that on MYSELF and it makes me very satisfied
i also don’t know if what i said is normal. am i comfortable with truths and facing them to an unusual degree over most people, or about the same as them?
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i saw this comment and it’s like….. that makes sense with disinhibition of the frontal cortex. i think way too much about the rhetoric and kairos of how im communicating information to others normally, but with these consciously overthinking circuits driving and modifying my social thoughts and behaviors being turned down while stoned, i find i dont care as much. it’s like my conscious autism masking is peeled away, so i feel more content while stoned. and it also makes me more open as a result.
like i said, “i feel more at ease with my thoughts coming and going, i kinda go into free flow thought tunnels without getting hung up or ever spiraling” which is how this guy is describing “going with the flow”
the takeaway is i dont have a negative reaction to when i realize unpleasant things about myself while high. it’s just this neutral acknowledgement. this even goes for physical things that usually tip people off like their heart rate being “too fast” while high. i do perceive it also but theres like no anxiety with it, again just neutral observation and acknowledgement
basically im Actively looking for this
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so some questions:
can someone explain what “weed paranoia” is like, taking into account the gist of what ive said? if you experience it do you have any insight into why it happens? does anything ive said have to do with it? do you already have neurotic tendencies (low resistance to stress)?
what does my experience while high + my normal thought processes as ive described them say or imply about me?
why am i experiencing pretty much the polar opposite of the way weed paranoid people are describing anxiety of being judged? or like the thing about my feelings of vulnerability?
am i more comfortable with truths and facing them to an unusual degree than most people, or am i actually about the same as them? am i more introspective/metacognitive than most people, or am i actually about the same as them?
if people who ARE already introspective get high and feel paranoid, why would that happen—wouldnt they be used to uncovering things about themselves? are there other reasons? does one’s sentiment to oneself play into it? neurotic traits?
oomf said “your high is always driven by how capable you are of passively defusing triggers for a bad trip”. the explanation for how well people tolerate THC ive gravitated towards outside of genetics (since my mom doesnt tolerate thc well but i do) is ability to deflect stressful thoughts, or how impacted you are by stressful thoughts in the first place. is this anything?
i hope im describing these things adequately so i can get the answers im looking for lol. please tell me if any of this means anything to you or if its just words
EDIT:
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^ to me everything is great and feels significant, but is that because the things that feel significant are themselves good? if weed makes stuff seem more significant (too much dopamine weighs negative inputs too highly), that means it amplifies what’s already there (while also amplifying “noise”). so that tells us about the nature of what is already there in the mind’s contents, then?
so again, question 2: what does my experience while high + my normal thought processes as ive described them say or imply about me?
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pebiejeebies · 5 months
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I hate girls
I don’t mind being one, I just hate other girls yk?
something about them always irks me
the way they’re so clingy, how loud they laugh, how much they fake every single word they say, how two faced they are, how untrustworthy they are, how you can befriend them one day and lose them the next, how girls have to beat each other up and hurt each others feelings to express their “love” for their “friends”, how you can see her smile after making one of her friends hurt and completely ignore their feelings, how they manipulate boys because “A man can’t hit a girl” even though she hurts him, how they just live
It’s just. I just hate girls. I don’t get them.
I get me, I make sense, dad told me that girls are gentle and kind, and I am gentle around people, and I’m kind around people, my dad says being kind will get me friends and help me through out life, and it just, doesn’t happen. In fact, it makes my life WORSE
I get easily manipulated, hurt, and since I’m always seeing them as the angel, I’ll shove my heart away just to make sure she’s happy/p (keep in mind I do this to EVERYONE, and the ones who always managed to hurt me the most throughout my life were girls)
I hear girls saying that boys are the worst, I just wish they could look in the mirror and notice whose the problem
I hate how they pick the worst boys to date, then come back a week later crying about how the biggest red flag hurt them, I hate how much make up they wear, how over dramatic they are, how much they try to catch people’s attention
I am a girl, and so are they, but why are so much girls so.. wrong? So horrible? Why is this normalized? Why is this fine? Whyyy?/genq
“There are always nicer girls out there! You just haven’t met them!” Well, I don’t see that, I don’t feel that, I don’t believe that, it’s just, I really can’t believe it anymore
maybe you’re one of the lucky people to have a nice friend that’s a girl, good for you!/gen
but why has my whole trauma and anxiety come from girls? Social anxiety? Just get over it, it’s not like we’ll hurt you/s
Hate how I look? Just shut up and look at my make up instead. Hate how fake they are? You're just jealous of them, you’re ridiculous.
A bad mother, many bad female teachers, too many bad female classmates, my sisters (2 of them)
Why is it all girls?? Why are boys so much more nicer towards me?? My father is THE BEST, I’ve talked with boys before and they’re SO SWEET AND SILLY
What is it with me and girls?? Why do they always take away my freedom and friends? Why do they take away my childhood? Why do they do this to me??
Even my sisters are good examples sometimes
I hate girls
I hate girls so much
Maybe I’m just a stupid narcissist that thinks I’m the best girl and everyone else is the worst.
I’m not saying all girls are bad
I’m saying all the girls IVE MET are bad
Meeting them online is better, I guess
At least I can smile genuinely around them..
If you’re a girl, don’t take this personally please <3
(it’s a bit ironic, but me and @akalikestodraw were chatting in the middle of this vent, and istg they made me smile <33 so thank you for lifting up my spirits ig)
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xydamcg · 2 years
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Newest member
Ghost x f character
Cw: social anxiety, social interactions make her queasy
Summary: The newest member to the 141 task force wasn’t what the crew expected. At all.
Pt 2
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The rain had just began to fall when the recruit stepped foot off the helo and made way to the base barracks. Hauling two duffel bags and a overfilled backpack, the pace was set to slow walk even if the rain was coming down like the world was ending. If she could of had front door drop off service she would have—unfortunately helo’s didn’t do that. What felt like a mission on its own she finally made it to the barracks drenched, intake being flawless thankfully. She was shown to her new dorm before given a map of the base, a timeline of her day which only insisted of team training (that she missed at 0900), a mission debrief which was in fifteen minutes and the rest of her day was clear. The woman felt like she was in high school all over again, learning the layout and the people always sucked for her.
Changing from her wet clothes she switched into her more weather resistant attire. She brushed her long black hair into the neatest struggle bun she could before checking her watch, she had ten minutes to get to the debriefing—all of those ten minutes would be needed to find the damned place. Taking her map and timeline with her she slipped out her dorm and down the hall following the map as she went. You would think being in the military as long as she had she would have a good sense of direction and locating on maps..wrong.
Fifteen minutes passed and she had just reached the building for the debrief, her quick feet carried her to the third floor second door on the far left with ‘141’ on the door. The voices inside notified her that she in fact was late for the debrief, she quickly knocked before she pushed into the room. All eyes on her as she nearly tripped over the trash can too close to the door. She straightened the trash can with her foot and noticed Price smirking at her. “Perfect entrance as always Ty.” He greeted making her more embarrassed then she already was. “Come in, we won’t bite..much.” Kate assured waving her from her place near the door. “Alright boys, I’d like to introduce your newest member to 141. Tyliu Avery, I’ll let her introduce herself more in depth..if you’d please Ty.” Price cooed as he patted her shoulder. He loved fucking with her didn’t he? Ty did terrible in all social aspects in life. As Price stepped to the side leaving her on the floor she raised her eyes to look at the men before her.
Her auburn eyes scanned the room before she looked toward Price and Laswell who were practically giggling like school kids at her. Tyliu turned forward again before she shakily cleared her throat. “I’m Tyliu Avery, now your second lieutenant to task force 141, I specialize in all weapons operations, most importantly cyber warfare. In the field you refer to me as Ripper or Lieutenant Avery, respect me and I’ll respect you gentleman.” She announced as Price stepped beside her once again. “And what do we call you when we’re not in the field?” A thick Scottish accent called out to her from the far end of the circle table. “Ty or Avery would suffice.” She told him. “Boys as you now know, she is your second Lt, I would pray you don’t get to see why we call her Ripper. Be kind to her she’s a ticking bomb.” Price mused teasingly making her land a hard blow to his shoulder. “Don’t push it captain.” She mumbled as he rubbed his shoulder still smiling. “Your dad wouldn’t be happy to know you’re beating up your uncle now would he?” Ty raised her hand to hit him again but Laswell stepped in. “Enough both of you, we have a mission to debrief right captain?” She asked her eyes scolding the pair. “Right..take a seat if you’d like Aves.” Price motioned but she didn’t listen, she took stance by the wall closest to the door like he knew she would.
The debrief wasn’t as long as she expected it to be. It was a simple mission, invade and conquer something about helping out Los vaqueros. Ty was the first out the room as they were dismissed making her way back in the direction she came. “Hey Avery!” She heard that Scottish accent call to her again, turning she paused. Two of the three men from the debrief approached. “Gentleman?” She greeted. “We just wanted to introduce ourselves, I’m sergeant Kyle Garrick but you can call me Gaz.” One of the pair introduced holding out his hand. Ty hesitated but shook his hand with a short nod. “And you hot shot?” She looked at the other with such a stylish Mohawk. “Sergeant Johnny Mctavish but call me soap ma'am.” He chirped holding out his hand, he had a lot of energy she could tell. “Soap? Gaz. Nice to meet you.” She spoke taking Soap’s hand for a shake. Her eyes shifted behind the duo as she noticed the third man finally leaving the debrief—her eyes lingered causing Soap and Gaz to turn. “Hey Lt!” Soap yelled down the hall catching the man’s attention. He seemed to look at Ty before continuing in the opposite direction. Soap sucked his teeth before turning back to her. “He’s not the most talkative..” Soap apologized causing her to shake her head. “Not everyone takes to newbies.” She stated as she watched the man disappear down the hall.
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"Are you really related to the captain?" Gaz questioned as he sat across from Ty at the cafeteria, Soap joining soon after. Peeking up from her book she shook her head, she wasn't biologically related to price, she'd lose her mind if she was. "No, he and my father were in the same squadron when i was younger, they stuck together when it disbanded. Price is the uncle i never had, nor asked for. But i wouldn't ask for anyone else to be in his place." She explained as she picked up a piece of bread to bite into, Soap leaning forward in bewilderment. "Wait, your father is THE Richard Avery?!" Soap asked causing Gaz's Jaw to drop. "Your dad single handedly took down half a militia in the artic with no communication to his team, that Richard Avery?" Gaz gawked making Ty shrug with a nod. They made him seem like a hero when really, he wasn't. He was a monster of a man when he finally was home from deployment, no one knew who he really was. Not even Price. While Gaz and Soap were fangirling over her father, she excused herself not having much of an appetite any longer.
Tossing her food she left the cafeteria, her book still in her hand as she trekked back to her dorm. Most of 141 were stationed in a different section of the barracks while Soap, Herself, and Ghost were stationed elsewhere. She learned quickly that the door to her dorm got jammed easily so she had to practically throw her whole body into it for it to open. She was too busy dislocating her shoulder to notice Ghost exiting his room behind her at the commotion. "What are you doin'?" He spoke from behind her, nearly jumping out of her skin. Her eyes shifting up to meet Ghost's cold gaze. "i-i'm trying to get my door open...it's jammed." she breathed as she stepped out of the way pointing. Ghost moved toward the door before resting his hand on the handle and with the smallest amount of effort she's ever seen, pushed it open. He moved back toward his own dorm as she stood there astonished. "Thanks.." his response was simply closing the door to his dorm room and a soft click of the lock. Yes, very talkative.
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thefandomenchantress · 6 months
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I could have sworn I have more questions about headcanons, but until then.. Take these! I'll send those questions in when I can. If the cast got turned into cats, how would they act like? (Since yk, it would be a little different if they're cats. I'll give a headcanon of mine as an example: David and Xander would always be walking beside each other and their tails would form a heart. They would also lick each other to help clean themselves) GIMMIE ACEVID ONES!! How do you think the cast acted when they were babies/kids? You can use this photo as a inspiration for ideas!:
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Don’t worry I’m super forgetful, too. The amount of times I’ve thought of really good jokes or theories to post only to immediately forget about them once I remember I wanted to post something is too many. I look forward to seeing the other headcanon stuff!
If the cast got turned into cats, what would they act like? (+Acevid)
I’ll try to do everyone in the cast for this one! Also, I’m not using real-life cats for a basis on their appearances, some of them are blue and red. Second also, I’m doing this on the assumption that this is a parallel universe where they’re cats and always have been.
Teruko: The saying that a cat always lands on their feet does not apply to cat-Teruko. She is constantly getting into accidents and her owner is getting sick of all the vet bills. She’s not very cuddly, often preferring to be left alone. Appearance: Brown with some patches of fur burnt off.
Xander: Pirate kitty. Cats probably can’t wear eyepatches in real life, but cat-Xander does. He is constantly climbing all over furniture as well as his owner, and he often harasses said owner for affection. Appearance: Red with cool eyepatch thingy.
Charles: Very anti-social. Getting him to let you pet him is a difficult task at first, but evantually he might warm up to you. Watches his owner make things in the kitchen with a strange fascination. Appearance: Purple with a bushy tail.
Ace: A literal scaredy-cat. Constantly hissing at people and hiding under furniture, and trying to pick him up is just asking for him to bite you. If he does end up liking his owner, he will quickly develop separation anxiety. Appearance: Maroon, fluffy and smaller than average.
Arei: Constantly doing things to annoy her owner. Example:
Owner: *Walks into the room and sees cat-Arei next to a glass of water, which she is pushing dangerously close to the edge of the countertop* Hey! No. Don’t you dare.
Cat-Arei: *Looks owner dead in the eyes as she slowly pushes the glass off the countertop, and it shatters on the floor*
Appearance: Light blue and…uh…majestic?
Rose: Always taking a cat nap. Usually in the most inconvenient places, like right in front of the front door while her owner is trying to leave the house. Her owner has tripped over her quite a few times by accident. She also always manages to get into paints, no matter where her owner hides them. Appearance: Dark brown fur (which usually has paint stuck in it).
Hu: Definitely the most well-behaved of all the cats. It doesn’t matter what she’s doing, if she hears her owner playing any instrument she’ll come running. Sometimes she’ll try to help them play (Ex: Walking across piano keys while her owner is trying to play). Appearance: Dark green-ish fur
Eden: Doesn’t have great eyesight, since cats don’t wear glasses (or maybe they do I mean I gave cat-Xander an eyepatch). Very social and will often follow her owner around the house. Has a strangely good sense of time. Appearance: Brown fur, maybe dark brown markings around her eyes that sorta look like glasses.
Levi: Very calm, but will attack any human he does not recognize that enters his owner’s house. (He’s a very good guard dog—er, cat). He will protect his owner with his life. Appearance: Light brown fur, piercing light blue eyes. Bigger than your average cat.
Arturo: Loves his owner and is very clingy to them. Anyone he deems unfit for their presence he will hiss at if they get too close. His definition of ‘unfit’ seems to be anyone and everyone his owner has tried to invite over. Appearance: Mint/Toothpaste green fur, very lanky.
Min: Sits next to her owner whenever they read, staring at the pages. Whether she can actually read or not is a mystery. Not very easily excitable, but she really likes milk (just like human Min). Appearance: Brownish-Black fur, a tuft of which will often cover her pretty purple eyes.
David: When his owner isn’t home he barely does anything, and is usually laying in the same place all day. Once he notices his owner is back he gets all happy again, and will follow them with stars in his eyes. Appearance: Dark blue fur, his eyes do the same thing his human counterpart’s eyes do.
Veronika: Will often enter rooms quietly just so she can pounce up onto her owner’s lap and scare them. Makes very demonic hissing noises whenever she feels like it, usually when her owner least expects it. Appearance: Red fur, and dead, grey eyes. Has long claws she likes to scratch furniture with sometimes.
J: Will act like she totally didn’t miss her owner while they were at work for a while, but caves after around an hour and bothers them for affection. She likes to initiate any cuddles, and trying to give her any without fair warning will make her mad at you for a bit. Appearance: Black, thick fur with blue and green highlights. Somehow.
Whit: Very affectionate, and instantly likes the romantic partner his owner brings over to the house. He can sense it’s meant to be. Also:
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Appearance: Has a heart shape on his chest (for an example of this, see the photo of a random cat I found on the internet). Blonde fur, pink hints throughout.
Nico: Hmm…I’m tasked with making them more cat-like, huh? I guess they hate bathtubs more now. They’re pretty anti-social and don’t hang around their owner too much, but appreciate their company when they do. Appearance: Black fur and red eyes, looks scary but is actually very sweet.
Acevid: At first cat-David thinks of cat-Ace as a bit too…energetic, if you get what I mean. But also finds him fun to mess with. Sometimes, they take naps together. A good way to summarize their relationship is this: Cat-Ace likes his personal space. Cat-David also likes cat-Ace’s personal space.
How do you think the cast acted when they were babies/kids?
Teruko: Actually sorta had a home, the orphanage, so that’s nice. She didn’t have any friends except for her brother, so they hung out a lot. She was more affectionate then, and often carried around a stuffed teddy-bear.
Xander: Liked school and did fairly well. He had a lot of friends, thanks to his more outgoing personality, but he was a bit too much for some people. Got into fights at recess a few times.
Charles: Rather sheltered, preferred to be by himself most of the time. Had a sense of child-like wonder about him, (and he still does, even though you’ll be hard-pressed to see him show it). It’s a shame he can’t remember most of his childhood.
Ace: Didn’t have any friends (until Taylor), since his off-the-walls energy was too much for most other kids, and he was just labeled as weird. Never stopped talking, despite the fact people constantly told him to shut up.
Arei: Her sisters got an early start on making her feel as bad about herself as possible, and they made it hard for her to make friends. She was compassionate nonetheless, but she slowly became more closed-off because of all the ridicule.
Rose: Didn’t sleep as much, since she didn’t have as much of a need for escapism (or at least I always assumed she slept as a form of escapism idk). She was very passionate about art and often got her pieces put in the school-wide art shows.
Hu: Got along pretty well with other kids, but was rather introverted. She had a lot of butterfly-themed clothing and jewelry, so it was well-known that was her favorite animal.
Eden: Had a few good friends, and really liked setting up play dates with them. She would often pick out art kits from the store, like bracelet-making kits, to do during them.
Levi: Rather quiet, didn’t have many friends. His closed-off nature and intimidating stature were most likely to blame for this. He had trouble reading who was in the ‘bad crowd’ and would sometimes get in trouble for being in the wrong place, wrong time.
Arturo: Didn’t have many friends, since he was often off in his own little world. Not sure when his beauty obsession started, but at some point it did and he would constantly read those celebrity gossip magazines and fanboy over every pretty person he saw in them.
Min: Had a few friends, but didn’t spend too much time with them. She was always studying, or doing schoolwork, or occasionally sleeping. She tried to hang out with friends sometimes, but would be constantly feeling guilty about how she was wasting time that could be spent studying.
David: Had many acquaintances and a few people he’d call friends, but he didn’t feel most of them actually knew him that well. He was way less…er…depressed? Than current David, and did anything for his parent’s approval and affection.
Veronika: Most kids either thought she was creepy (because of her psychoanalysis) or really cool, since she would often do things like hanging upside-down on high-up tree branches or other dangerous stunts. While intrigued by the spooky and gory, she wasn’t as into it back then.
J: Often forced to do things she didn’t want to by her mother, and hated every second of it. She felt as though most of her friends weren’t really her friends because they liked her, and that they just liked the idea of her, and the idea of being friends with a celebrity.
Whit: Didn’t have too many friends, since some considered him a little annoying. Wasn’t quite as ambivalent to terrible things happening, and wasn’t constantly positive. But he still really liked puns to an unhealthy degree.
Nico: Didn’t have any friends, but didn’t mind because they preferred to have their alone time anyway. Or maybe that’s just what they told themselves so they wouldn’t feel lonely. They would’ve liked to have at least one person to hang out with from time to time. But at least they had their cats.
Sorry this ask took forever for me to answer. I had never considered the cat question before and it took me a long time to come up with answers. But this was really fun, thanks for asking me stuff!
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66germs · 19 days
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I’ll introduce myself here aswell I guess to start uhh yeya!
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Hii! I’m Unluckily Lucky! More commonly known as Lucky or the person that made the Yonji turtle stomper 9000 1 percenter if a lifekind video on tt! (If that’s even considered much of a reputation huaha)
I am!! Extremely nervous to post!!! But I have been trying my best to cook up content so I’ll just grow some balls and do it at some point today
Things about me!
-I use any pronouns
-I’m born September 6 2004
-I have ASD, ADHD and anxiety (collecting these like Pokemon cards) so yeah needless to say I might be a bit of a wreck but I’m trying my best
-I’m 5’3 and my blood type AB- 😼 Do what you may with that information
-My favourite One Piece characters as you may have guessed are the Vinsmoke siblings… And Katakuri
-I watched the anime rather than reading the manga due to my poor attention span and the fact I needed background drawing noises so please don’t be too upset at me if there are some facts I might get wrong.. I did read the egghead arc though and am currently caught up, whatever was beforehand yeah no.
-Aside of OP I also find interest in RPG maker psychological/ horror games, old cartoons, vampire squids, psychology (well more like understanding how people work and their thought process, kind of like characters) and embalming. I like learning about them but am not AS knowledgeable as my main hyperfixations, that’s why I just say interest.
-My @ on most socials is chezbolz or chezboll depends which is taken but yea 👍 it’s just a bad way of typing cheese ball
-I’m a multishipper and generally don’t mind any ships (with a few exceptions but I tolerate em) though I do have my own ships that I am set on in my AUs so there’s that. I’ll be happy to indulge in conversations about other ships in private or on posts where it’s appropriate to bring up but please don’t insert them in ones that aren’t about those ships! Just a little common sense. Thank you!
That is all. I think. Yeag
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itsukismoon · 8 days
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Past story - Chapter 3 (Cyrus)
— The shining sun on the battlefield —
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Eventually, when we turned 15, Emilio and I joined the Alstria Knights, an order of knights directly under the royal family.
Emilio: Let’s work hard, Cyrus.
Cyrus: …Yes.
Emilio had grown into an even more upstanding and awe-inspiring warrior than before.
I myself was not lowly regarded, but… it was clear that he was stronger and more suitable to being a knight.
Knight 1: Oh, if it isn’t the rumoured twins. I’ve heard stories about your entrance exam. You overwhelmed everyone else.
Knight 2: If you want, you’re welcome to join our practice next time. How about it?
Cyrus: No, how could we…
Emilio: It’d be a great honour, but we’re still newbies who haven’t even experienced their first battle yet.
Emilio: It’d be no good if we were to be a nuisance to our seniors… I think it would be best if we joined with the other newcomers and worked hard together.
Knight 2: I see, alright then. I’ll look forward fighting alongside you guys.
Cyrus: …are you sure that was okay?
Emilio: You didn’t seem too keen on it, did you?
Emilio: And if our peers started looking at us weird because we’re getting special treatment, it’d be very hard for us to get by in the future.
Around this time, I felt like Emilio was trying to “protect” me.
Not in a physical sense… No, it’s probable that my being quiet has forced him to follow after my actions. (TN: I think what he means here is that since Cyrus is very timid and an introvert, Emilio kind of has to look after him, as it’d be a problem for him to deal with many situations alone, like when in social settings like this one)
I can’t quite explain it, but it felt as if his overwhelming strength enveloped me and pulled me along with him.
And yet…
Cyrus: …You really think things through. I admire that.
Emilio: I don’t need any such thing as respect.
Emilio: After all, I—
Cyrus: Huh?
Emilio: Ah… nevermind. Then, I’ll take a little detour on my way home.
Cyrus: …Okay.
Why do I feel like he’s protecting me, yet keeping his distance?
(flashback begins)
Emilio: But I’m not [softening my blows]? You just got stronger, that’s all.
(flashback ends)
Cyrus: …
Shrugging off the memory that resurfaced in my mind, I started walking in the opposite direction as Emilio.
Cyrus: (…I must stop thinking about that. We’re not kids anymore).
Cyrus: (I have to establish myself as a knight, on my own).
"A knight is someone who follows the will of the Dream King, protects the weak, and values peace.”
Once more, I reminded myself of my family’s teachings and devoted myself to training.
Two years passed by— it was time for our first battle.
Cyrus: …Ngh.
Allied knight: Cyrus, you’re moving too slow! Don’t hesitate! Do you want to die?!
Cyrus: U-understood!
Shouts flew everywhere. Death screams echoed, Fresh blood spurt out—
I had imagined this moment many times.
Cyrus: Haah, haah….
Cyrus: (No good… I must recompose myself!)
I was struggling to remain conscious, and my breath was laboured.
When I came to my senses, I realised that the knight who had been nearby moments ago was no longer in sight.
Cyrus: (! Did I move too forward?!)
Before I could even think, ominous footsteps echoed near me.
Enemy knight: …Looks like a new recruit.
Enemy knight 2: We’re on a battlefield, don’t hold it against me.
Cyrus: …Ngh
Isolated and surrounded by enemy soldiers, I quickly tried to raise my sword, but…
Cyrus: (The sword is… heavy).
Fatigue, anxiety, fear.
The tip of the enemy’s sword was pointed at me, and just as I prepared myself to die—
A flash of light appeared.
Emilio: HAAH!!
Cyrus: (…Emi…lio…?)
What looked like a flash of light was Emilio.
In the brief moment it took me to realise this, he swept away hordes of enemies.
Emilio: …
In the silence, his cloak fluttered in the wind. His majestic back so bright that I couldn’t help but squint my eyes.
On a dark battlefield covered in dust and smoke— He truly was the “sun”.
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(TN: this pic is not included in the past story HOWEVER its his deep dream card's moon cg; although i havent read the story for it yet im pretty sure this is the scene that is talked about in this chapter)
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smallestapplin · 1 year
Note
Can I request Rika interviewing a reader who has bad social anxiety and sends out closure to help them
Rika, my love💗💗💗
Ooo yes! This is perfect.
This turned out very platonic.
Cw : anxiety attack, and emotional support clodsire.
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You knew the answer to every question, you know you did, but sitting down with no way out, knowing if you mess up even once you’d fail? It set you into an internal spiral, as you set guess yourself on everything you’ve done up to this point.
Rika’s stare isn’t helping you.
Her eyes widening a fraction as your breathing goes shallow but quick, your eyes seem unfocused.
Realizing the situation, she lowers a hand to her belt, and brings out her Pokémon. Her worries are confirmed when you don’t even register the loud ‘thwump!’
Clodsire may not having a single thought through his head, but he’s done with many times in the past when Rika was younger.
The large Pokémon had a sixth sense for this. He drags himself around the desk, and right to you, resting himself on your feet, and gently nuzzling against your legs.
You gasp, greedily taking deep gulps of air.
“Easy now, take it slow. We can begin when you’re ready, but we are in no rush.” Rika spoke softly.
She smiles at you, while tears sting your eyes.
Her gentle voice, and the comforting weight of clodsire easily soothes you, slowly bringing you back down.
“Can….can he stay here? Just until this is over.” Your voice shakes.
You pet the top of Clodsire’s head, while he lets out a happy cry and leans more against you.
“Of course he can, he’s a big baby anyway.”
You give a watery chuckle at her jest.
Rika leans down behind her desk, opening the very last draw, and sitting back up with a water bottle now in hand, that she hands to you.
You shakily take it from her, taking slow sips of the cool water. Once your felt like you were finished you hold the bottle in your lap.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, never know when you might need it. How are ya feeling?”
You look towards her Pokémon, keeping your attention on the affectionate ground type.
“Better….um I think I’m ready now.”
She pushes her glasses up, red eyes looking at you.
“Are you sure? We can take another five minutes if you need.”
You nod, determined to get this over with.
“With Clodsire at my side, I think I’ll be fine.”
Said Pokémon softly cries, little flippers patting happily.
Rika smiles, “Alright, may the interview begin!”
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pennylanefics · 1 year
Text
Fan of Mine - Josh Kiszka
a/n: another fic that's been sitting in my docs for a while now :) some soft and sweet josh bc why not
summary: you stumble across an interview of josh from before you were dating
word count: ~ 1k
*gif is not mine. credit goes to whoever made it*
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Josh was in his office, working on some new lyrics for a new song that they don’t even have a melody to yet. He had locked himself in there all day, leaving you to entertain yourself for the most part.
This led to you venturing onto social media, where Greta content was popping up on every app you entered. No one knew that you are dating Josh, fans specifically.You’ve managed to keep your relationship very private, though Josh was open about the fact that he is in a loving and committed relationship.
Fans of course speculated on who he could be dating, but no one ever could figure it out. You stayed out of things relating to Greta to prevent this, meaning when you went to shows, you went ‘incognito’ and didn’t go backstage or to the hotel with them, to limit the risk of being seen.
On TikTok, you came across a video of Josh and Sam doing a Zoom interview. You had never seen it before, despite being a well-versed fan before dating Josh, something you were quite open about.
The interviewer asks if they would ever date a fan. Immediately, Sam declines, though around this time he was still in a relationship, and Josh answers in a more detailed way, saying how he doesn’t really want to date someone that knows what he does and whatnot.
You felt a small pang in your heart and anxiety raise in your body. He knew you were a fan before, right? Of course he knew, you met at a Fleet Foxes concert and you talked about how much you love his band’s music and how you got into Fleet Foxes because of them.
The video kept playing over and over as you got lost in your own thoughts. Just then, Josh appeared from down the hall, walking into the kitchen and getting a glass of water.
“Honey?” He calls out, breaking you from your daze. You look up at him and smile. “You doin’ okay?” He wonders. Nodding, you lean up for a kiss, which he happily gives you.
“I’ll just be a little bit longer, and then I’m all yours, I promise,” he mumbles against your lips. You hum in acknowledgement and curl back up under the cover. The door to Josh’s office clicks shut and you go back to staring off and getting lost in your mind.
You watch the video a couple more times before you throw the cover off of your body and run down the hall to the office. You almost break through the door, which startles Josh as he jumps a little, eyes wide with confusion.
“(Y/N), what’s-”
“You said you would never date a fan, but you’re dating me,” you state, pausing to collect what you wanted to say. “What…changed your mind? Because you knew I was a fan at the time of meeting you and I still am, but if you would never date someone who knows what you do, why are you with me?”
The way your last question came out sounded that you were doubting Josh’s love for you. And this is what Josh thought right away. Within seconds, he is standing in front of you, cradling your face in his hands.
“Hey hey, don’t think like that, okay? Yeah, I do remember saying that, and yeah, I did mean it at the time. But upon meeting you, everything changed. I was aware you knew who we were, but you didn’t care about meeting Josh Kiszka from Greta Van Fleet. You cared about Josh, a fellow fan of the band we were seeing and was sat next to. And you never once brought up anything relating to what I do. We talked like we were old friends, like my status of being a well-known rockstar was nothing. And I absolutely adored that. Yeah, you listen to our music and follow along with our social media, but that means very little to me when everything else about you means so much. And I know that probably doesn’t make sense, but the way you treated me like a human rather than just another famous person, it really attracted me to you. I am so fucking happy I get to go through life with you by my side, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I know I’m dating a fan, but honestly, who gives a shit? At the end of the day, you love me and I love you, and that’s all that matters. The (Y/N) I got to know was not some crazy fangirl who only wants my attention because I’m a famous rockstar. Also, you have proven that you’re not using me in any way, for fame or popularity. So you have nothing to worry about, baby. I’m not going anywhere just because of a silly little interview question from like three years ago. You are the love of my life, (Y/N), and the fact that you knew about me before we met isn’t going to change anything. We’ve been together for almost two years, and I plan on being with you for a lot longer, babe.”
About halfway through his speech, tears form in your eyes and fall down your cheeks, but his thumbs catch them before they can fall to the ground.
“I love you, Josh,” you choke out, falling into his arms. He grins and wraps his arms around your body, holding you as close to him as possible.
“I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I got us tickets for the Fleet Foxes concert here around our anniversary,” he murmurs into your neck. You pull away and look at him with wide eyes.
“Really?” He chuckles and nods, locking his hands at the small of your back. 
“Thought it would be a nice present. Spend our two year anniversary in the same place we met,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “The place I met the love of my life in a fan of mine.”
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