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#i need severe psychological attention
solarsturniolo · 4 months
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Texts with Bf!Matt
tags: @flowerxbunnie 🙈💋
warnings: suggestive content / cussing
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a/n: i don’t think i’ve posted content like this before, so lmk what you think and if i should do more 💋💋
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transmutationisms · 6 months
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Hi, i just discovered your tumblr. For you, what is mental illness, then? What is depression? What is anxiety? What is autism? I want to understand your mind and your opinion, but I don't know where to start, so I'm going to send this question.
i would define 'mental illness' broadly as any cluster of behaviours, beliefs, or thought patterns that is described and pathologised by the medical authorities a person is subject to. within this very broad category we can make a first distinction:
people for whom the pathologised behaviours and thought patterns cause them genuine distress
people for whom they do not
this distinction speaks to several different purposes and outcomes of the medicalisation of human psychology, ranging from 'an attempt to ameliorate human suffering' to 'an attempt to enforce prescribed forms of social order and normality'. furthermore, the first category above should be further interrogated with attention to whether a person's distress arises from intrinsic experiential aspects or from attempting to survive in a social environment hostile to their needs.
i don't define 'mental illness' on the basis of biomarkers, neurobiology, or genetics, and neither does clinical psychiatry, despite roughly two centuries now of sinking time and money into trying to find such biological confirmations of socially and politically defined 'types'.
different diagnoses have different histories, social functions, and medical discourses attached. for example, of the three you listed, autism is the one most likely to be presented with 'neurodivergency', rather than disease, as the explanatory paradigm, though this is far from a universal approach amongst clinicians. autism is also the most likely of the three to be 'treated' through elaborate and abusive methods of trying to instill and enforce 'normal behaviour'; depression and anxiety are typically medicalised in a different way that emphasises an aberrant disruption to otherwise 'normal' functioning, even in chronic presentations, with different accompanying pharmaceutical and psychotherapeutic treatments. other diagnostic labels may function entirely differently: for example, consider the function of the relatively historically recent split between autism and schizophrenia, or the extent to which the historical concept of hysteria informs many personality disorder diagnoses.
ultimately a 'mental illness' is a constructed category: there is no essence of depression, no depression virus, and no universal biological marker to discover that unites all depressives or people diagnosed as such. this emphatically does not mean that the suffering described is not real or debilitating. it means that our particular ways of categorising, taxonomising, and pathologising it are socially and historically contingent, and any analysis of them that ignores their social and political functions and origins is incomplete and inaccurate.
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salaciousdoll · 7 months
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꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿ The Salacious Exploits ‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷
•┈୨Chapter II୧┈•
•┈୨please be advised to the warning before continuing୧┈•: Hyperfeminine!reader, Bimbo!/ditzy!reader, Fem reader, smut, angst, fluff, laid back professor Gojo, Gojo being Gojo( I think), Gojo is a bit ooc when it comes to him being a perv, reader’s second day goes alright, geto pisses reader off and he liked it, Toji and Shiu are gym buddies, you and Eren talk all night on the phone, volleyball tryouts, reader owns her own volleyball, basically you are a pro at volleyball but not at running or certain positions( Libero), DARK CONTENT, taboo!, teacher x student relationship, this is not all glorified, there will be the downsides that come later, reader has daddy and mommy issues, daddy’s is more severe, self indulgent, reader is spoiled down, smut, Erwin smith is the first man you fuck, big and heavy dick Erwin, condom use because duh it’s the first official fuck, wall fucking, fucking on a sink, you roll the condom on his dick with your mouth, pet names( little dove, angelic whore, slut, pretty girl, etc.), degradation/praise, cervix kissing( gently but it can still hurt), reader is hyper sexual, History professor!Erwin, Jean meet you but doesn’t know your the new girl, bartender!jean, Eren is growing fond of you and so are Mikasa, Armin, and Maki, daddy kink is seen here once, dirty talking Erwin, coach! Onyankopon, Coach!Geto, lemme know if I missed anything,
゚•┈୨ Song for this Chapter୧┈•゚。: Party Girls- Victoria Monet
ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚Note from salaciousdoll: this is the second chapter of this series and I’m so excited for you all to read it. I’m gonna be starting my kinktober fics now, so this won’t be a weekly update, just until I at least make it to the end of the month fic. Anyways, HAPPY KINKTOBER BABIES🫶🏾
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Previously on Salacious Exploits….
Your voice came out calm and collected, “ You’re very welcome, sir. Have a nice day.” You smiled prior to power walking out of the classroom and building. You didn’t know who he was getting head from and you should’ve had a different reaction but this school looked fishy as soon as you stepped on the lawn and plus the false advertisement the website has is enough to make anyone turn it down but you and your mother were too dumb and naive to realize, your mother just wanted you near her. Though you couldn’t see Mr.Kamo face properly, yet you knew he was fine just from his moans and voice. On your way to your car to go home, you noticed a small sticker with a phone number on it and Eren’s name on top of it. You were surprised to see it because when the hell did he have time to do this. You most likely wasn’t paying attention when he did it because you were too busy looking around the school when you two walked to your first, well second class today. You did not like calling men first but you’ll excuse this because you had a feeling you were going to love that call. Just like you are going to love this school.
Waking up with Eren snores in your ear on the phone was funny and relaxing. You would’ve thought he would’ve hung up the phone after you fell asleep, yet he didn’t. You called him first and from that point on you two hit it off. You two talked about the school, his friends he’s going to introduce you to at the party someone’s throwing at the bar down the street from the campus today. You yawned and got out of bed walking to the shower to freshen up for classes today. You only had two classes today, psychology and physiology. Two classes you didn’t want to take but they were the last options when you signed up for classes online.
After showering and getting ready, you grabbed your supplies you needed for today and your Telfar Ballerina shopping bag with a lot of the materials you need for school and practice, slipping your shades on afterwards. Eren hung up the phone when you were taking a shower and you were partially glad for it because you didn’t want to talk to anyone before class. You had on a decent outfit today— tied-up pink cardigan over a black jumpsuit that showed off your hips, love handles, or hip dips with pink-satin miu miu ballerina shoes and black leg warmers.
You didn’t feel like doing anything special except trying out for volleyball, a sport you’ve been dedicated to since you were younger. It’s a pro and con sport for you because the pro is being the best on your team but the con is being the biggest in weight on your team. It's contradictory really. Now you get to see try out for volleyball for this college, maybe you’ll be able to face your old teammates from your old college. But first, you have to get through your classes first because right after your second class, it’s gonna be 30 minutes until tryouts.
Heading into the classroom, you spot Eren sitting with a boy with freckles and a girl next to him with dark green hair in a bob. She favored someone you met already and just couldn’t put it to mind especially with the way Eren was close-lip smiling at you. He was not paying attention to anything or anyone talking to him— all he could focus on is you. He was slowly catching feelings for you and he didn’t mind it one bit at how fast you captured his attention especially after getting over his break up with Mikasa.
You waved at him and took the seat he pointed to in the row in front of him. You were so glad that he got a seat near the end of the row because you didn’t feel like squeezing past people. Once you sat down, eren leaned down to whisper in your ear, “ had a great time last night on the phone, we should do it again sometime. You know… to get to know each other more.” You turned around to see him scratching the back of his head, almost like you made him shy or anxious.
You smirked at his actions, “ Next time, you call me first. A lady should never have to call a gentleman first.” Your teasing just made him raise his hand to cover his face from letting his friend see his blushing cheeks and nose. You wondered if he knew the tip of his ears were red as well.
Eren didn’t know what your type was and you honestly felt a little bad for him, but a little part of you hoped this was a puppy type crush and that’s it. What you really wanted was an older man, kinda like your professor that just walked in practically yelling good morning. You wondered how a man like him had this much energy as you eyed him with a tip of your pink pen in your mouth. His glasses were now clear prescription glasses and he looked even more gorgeous than before. You wanted to jump his bones right here.
Your thoughts were soon interrupted by professor Gojo clapping his hands and then motioning to the projector, “ You should already know what class you are taking—” Gojo then opened his arms, making his body into a T, “ But I’m gonna tell you anyway, Welcome to Psychology 112. For today, we will be learning about each other and reading the syllabus together. Originally, the syllabus was supposed to be your homework, but skip that! Don’t wanna give you homework on the first day, wouldn’t wanna overbear you on your first day like short stack Levi or for those who have Mr.Nanami, am I right?”
He was the first professor you’ve seen since yesterday that made the student laugh. You were surprised you let out a little laugh at his joke. You had a feeling you and Professor Gojo would get along just fine.
During his class, Eren couldn’t focus, he only paid attention when you spoke about yourself— starting with your name, “ Um, a little bit about me is that I like wearing high fashion brand clothing, I’m rich, and pretty.” Some of the girls and guys smacked their lips or let out loud sighs and some snickered to themselves.
Gojo stared at you with intensity before smiling to himself, “ anything else, miss { reader’s last name}. What made you decide to take my class?”
You mentally rolled your eyes at this question because you could either lie or tell the truth. You did what you did best, “ I was late when registering for classes and this was one of the last classes I had to choose but luckily I like learning about different behaviors and how it affects the mentality, ya’ know.” You lied and told the truth all in one. You thought nobody would notice, but Gojo did. Luckily, he let it pass by smirking at you and nodding his head. Once he went to the next person, you let out a relieved breath out of your mouth. Eren chuckled with Marco at your exaggerated action.
Marco extended his hand over your shoulder, “ sorry I couldn’t properly introduce myself. My name is Marco Boldt, as you may know from the previous introduction.” He let out a cute chuckle before speaking again, “ It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You turned to shake his hand as the next person spoke about their favorite hobbies and such.
“ Nice to meet you as well. Who’s the girl beside you Eren?” You eyed her up and down slowly and , to her, seductively.
She stuck out her hand like she was forced to stick it out, “ The girl next to him name is Mai, you would’ve known that if you paid attention, airhead.”
You wanted to curse her out but decided against it because maybe she was just a hard ass on purpose. Like she got a point to prove but to whom? You’ll never know especially when Gojo yelled out your name and to be quiet afterwards.
Smacking your lips was the first and only option you had as a reaction because it wasn’t even you that was speaking. You have been getting into trouble with the professors at this school too much already. It’s already getting on your nerves. You thought he was the least strict teacher here— you guessed wrong then. Only you didn’t guess wrong, he just wanted to fuck with you because he felt like it and he wanted to see how your name rolls off his tongue since it’s different than most people at this school. After everyone introduced themselves, you all read the syllabus and asked him questions about the syllabus.
Class wrapped up after that and when you walked past Gojo’s desk with Eren’s arm around your shoulder, scratched something inside of Gojo’s Brain and he didn’t like it. He had to know if you two were dating, not like that’s gonna stop him, but he didn’t need an hot head like Eren to fuck up his plan. A hot head that’s quick to spread rumors due to his indifferences with this school and much more. The only way he knows that is because he knew every last one of his students due to how little the social life here is at school. The school may be big, but the acceptance rates were lower than hell. Plus, he’s heard from the past professors that Eren is the star boy of the school.
“ Because of his fucking fath-”, Gojo says, before getting interrupted by a little laugh. He looked up and locked eyes with you standing in front of him with your books to your chest. You looked so fucking beautiful to him.
“ Mumbling to yourself Mr. Gojo, maybe psychology is the right major to teach for you.”, You say, laughing but stopping once you seen he wasn’t laughing just staring at you. You then realized what you said was inappropriate and hurried to back track until he held up a hand.
You waited for him to yell or give you the stern talk, but he just laughed with his head back, really loudly too. “ You’re a jokester, gotta watch out for you even more. What did you come to talk to me about? Any questions about the syllabus that you could’ve asked during class.” You squint your eyes at the last part prior to staring at him in silence.
He tilted his head and removed his glasses from his face to sit on the desk. When he did that, you had the urge to grab his face and kiss him, but you fought your urge and answered his question, “ Came to talk to you about how much homework we’re having for this class. Is it a lot? And how many essays do we have to do?”
Gojo smiled at you, “ It's not a lot of essays, only four for midterm and finals. There’s gonna be two chapters for you to read each day after today. Think of today as a free pass from homework.” He almost wanted to laugh at your expressions when he said 4 essays and two chapters.
You smiled at him and said your thanks, walking away afterwards. You had your last class of the day in 5 mins and it takes you three minutes to walk to the class so you’ll be on time. Meanwhile, back in the classroom, satoru sat there with your flavor perfume lingering in his classroom, well in the space by his desk.
Walking to Mr.Geto class was fun when you had Armin and his friends walking with you. His friends meaning Connie, Sasha, Yuuta,Maki, and Mikasa walking with you. You passed Mai and put two and two together when you took one good glance at Maki. They either had to be sisters or cousins. Crazy thing about it, is that you and Armin arrived 2 minutes early and were two of the three people already there.
There was another boy there with a high ponytail and on his lower cheek, close to his chin. He looked so quiet and you didn’t want to disrupt it so you sat next to Armin, who was sitting below the boy. You hope class goes by fast because then all you have to do is get ready for try-outs.
Soon, students started to fill out the classroom and in between the last two students, a tall man with his hair in a top bun— a piece hanging in the front of his head, black suit nicely tailored and decked, and several rings wrapped around about two fingers on each hand. You finally realized, after a long time of staring, that this was the man you locked eyes with when you were heading to Mr. Kamo class. He was coming from the gym and looked so hot, now he looks hotter.
“ Goodmorning class, today we’re going to read over the syllabus and I’ll go over the materials you need in order to pass this class. After that, I’ll let you all go to enjoy the rest of your day. Oh, I almost forgot, those of you know me already, some of you..”, Getos said walking back and forth until he locked eyes with you again. “ Don’t. So I’ll introduce myself, my name is Suguru Geto, you may not call me by that name, only my last, Professor Geto.”
He’s a little sassy with his introduction and you didn’t mind one bit in fact it made him hotter. He began plugging up his laptop for the projector while Armin spoke to a guy next to him. He was a handsome guy and you never saw him around the school before. Armin asked you for a pencil and you fetched your pencil case for a pencil. He laughed once he saw the color of the pencil, “ How did I know this would be the color of your pencils as well?”
You laughed and was about to respond until Mr.Geto cleared his throat, “ Okay, everyone, I got everything situated so let’s start? Yeah.” You did not know why but when he said yeah it was so sexy. You hated how easily you got turned on when it comes to older men. You suddenly got into your bubble of thoughts watching the way his arms flexed whenever he reached to point a finger at people or to point at the bullet point on the board. He was a beauty indeed and you knew it would take a lot to seduce him since he seemed all business at the moment. His dark eyes zoom in on you, spacing out with your legs crossed and your pencil eraser in your mouth, “ Miss {reader’s last name}, tell me what’s the fifth rule when it comes to turning in my essays?”
You hated being in the spotlight of answering questions, it’s annoying as hell and you disliked anyone who did it to you, “ I don’t know because I wasn’t paying attention, sorry for not paying attention, won’t happen again.” You didn’t want to give him attitude, so you just said sorry and kept silent the rest of the class. He didn’t like that you were as silent as a church mouse. He hated it in fact because when he wanted to call on you during class he felt your stone glare all over his PowerPoint and him. He could tell you were pissed but why were you so cute pissed off. He had to tell Satoru since he was speaking about you nonstop to him.
After some minutes, class was finally over and you were ready to get up out of there, in fact you were the first one to leave and he took note of that. He actually managed to piss you off on the first day and it was over something dumb. Not that he should care though, you’re the student and he’s the professor. But hey was he still thinking about you while waving bye to the rest of his students.
You, on the other hand, decided to transfer your anger onto the volleyball in tryouts. You had to walk across the street to the gym which got your blood pumping with adrenaline. So when you walked in the locker room, you placed your bag on the bench. Annie came in and sat her bag down next to you— changing her clothes right there. You gawked at her changing in front of you so boldly when there’s stalls in here. Mikasa, Maki, a girl with blue hair came in with them speaking loudly compared to the other two. Annie felt your eyes on her and turned to you with a deadpan expression on her face, “ What? Am I not allowed to change in front of you?”
You shrugged your shoulders, “ You could do whatever you want, I’m just gonna go change in the stall. No hard feelings babes.” She rolled her eyes at the nickname as she watched you walk off, waving to Maki and Mikasa.
You put on your attire for tryouts and made your way out the stall with your bag on your shoulder. You were making sure your knee pads were on properly, when a hand suddenly came out in front of you. Following the hand with your eyes, you smiled at her before hearing her speak, “ Why not have you apart of our competition, whoever gets the most serves and sets to the count of ten, wins and the winner gets to get free drinks from the losers for tonight’s back to school party at the bar, you’re in?” The blue haired girl was in front of you proposing a deal you couldn’t refuse if you wanted to because you loved competition. It makes things fun.
So you shook her hand while batting your eyelashes up at her, “ Deal. Be prepared to buy my drinks ladies.” You yelled out the last sentence as you made your way past them. Maki laughed, “ You’re confident. I like that.”
Mikasa shook her head, “ No, she’s delusional, especially if she thinks I’m losing.”
“ But you’re not winning, that’s for sure. So let her be delusional, they’ll only make it more fun when I win.”, Annie said, bandaging up her elbows while having a stare off with Mikasa.
Miwa smiled at her friends competing with each other because you’ve already walked out to the gym already whilst these three were still talking to each other. She loved volleyball season for a reason. This was one of them. It was great to be back. She just wished Mai was here as well— sadly she’ll just come late as always.
While the four of them were walking out the bathroom, you were already in the gym with the other girls that’s trying out for volleyball. The gym was huge enough for you all to have tryouts with the boys volleyball team. They were so tall and handsome, one guy stood out to you. He had a mullet and a beard that suited his face just right. He was working on his overhand serves just by swinging his arm up and down for right now. Armin was beside him with a guy with a bowl cut. You guess he was stuck in the 80s and 90s. Next to the bowl cut guy was the boy you met before, Yuuta.
On the benches against the wall, you see Eren, Reiner, Todo, Connie, Sasha, another girl with a blonde bob, a girl with two black pigtails and a girl with two blonde pigtails next to her, she could be mistaken for a little kid, honestly. Seems like some teachers are speaking with both coaches of the teams on the sideline.
I guess volleyball is an important sport at this school after all. You turn to see Mai beside you with an arm around your shoulder, “ Hey, my little pinky pie, ready to buy me a drink? I mean, you can make up for not listening to my introduction yesterday, that really hurt me, ya know?”
The blue haired girl came up on the other side of you, “ Mai, leave her alone. Can’t believe you made it on time.” She then turns to you with a pretty smile, “ I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Miwa Kasumi, nice to meet you. Don’t worry, I already know your name— so you don’t have to tell me.” You smiled at her and nodded your head prior to focusing back on pumping your pink and white volleyball full of air with their little air pumper.
You bounced it against the floor and watched it fly up, catching it afterwards. You smiled over at the girls that watched you, some of their eyes weren’t on what you were doing, rather than what’s behind you. Your ass looked so good in them spandex and if some of them weren’t straight you would’ve been wrapped around their fingers.
After a while, a tall black man with a clean cut bald fade and pretty smile blew the whistle and yelled out “ Huddle around, Girls.”
You all gathered around him with some of the gym balls and your own balls. “ Alright, so today Hange, who is the co-coach, is out for today because of their own business matters, so you’re only having me with you today.” He looked at each of you before speaking again, “ Today is about determining if you’re skillful enough to join this team. Here at Maria Kaizen, we take sports seriously just like academics. Sports are a huge thing in this city so you should already know that. So first, you’re gonna warm up, so give me about five laps around the track outside that door over there, come back in and get a drink of water— meet me back here afterwards, understand?”
You hated running laps so you took your time running while the rest of them didn’t take their time. Maki and Mikasa were toe to toe with each other until Mikasa got another boost of energy from nowhere and finished her 5 laps before Maki. After that the rest of the team followed pursuit but you were still on the 4 lap and wasn’t gonna speed up anymore because you were beginning to breathe hard. Another chubby girl and a skinny girl were running after you, both of them kept encouraging you to keep going and you hated it. You weren’t mean, it’s just it’s embarrassing when people run with you or encourage you to finish especially when you’re at the freaking finish line. Nevertheless, you still thank them— sharing high fives as well.
Once you finally finished your lap, you headed into the gym room and surprisingly didn’t see any of the other girls there, but luckily you spotted them standing outside the gym drinking water. You headed that way not noticing multiple eyes on you since you stepped back into the gym. Eren spotted you and so did Armin, Armin jogged to you first causing Eren to scowl at him— he hid it well when everyone looked at him trying to basically dive down the bleachers.
“ Hey, didn’t know you were trying out for volleyball, hope you make it, so I could go against you during practice.”, Armin says with a polite smile. You smiled at him and spoke to him, “ can’t wait for you to lose those practice games.”
With that, you walked off with him watching you walk away, a small smile adorning his face. Meanwhile, you were the last one to get water and was thankful for it because you almost drink the entire fountain until you heard a deep voice speak, “ Save some for the fishes sweetheart.”
“ Aww come on, girl must be tired after running 5 laps, ease up on her Shiu and besides we’re supposed to be going to the weight room so come on man.”, Another deep voice and the same voice you heard speak to you before. The security guard with black hair and green eyes. Another security guard was with him, he was so handsome, he had a compress shirt on with joggers to match with the green eye man.
You stared at them and they stared at you until the one with the green eyes spoke, “ Welcome to Maria Kaizen, I’m Toji Fushiguro and this is Shiu Kong, we’re the security guards here so you’ll be seeing us around a lot, see you around beautiful.” Shiu guy nodded his head at you and walked away, Fushiguro followed behind leaving you with rampant thoughts in your mind.
You finally snapped out of your thoughts when Maki came and got you for the beginning of tryouts. The first drill of tryouts was seeing if you could under serve and you got this. All of y’all had to serve your balls where the short gremlin of a teacher stood. You took a pretty good guess and knew he was probably filling in for Ms. Zoe. Maki served and it went over the net and nowhere near Levi, Mikasa served and it went over the next almost to where he stands, Mai served and it hit the net but still went over the net, that was a let serve, and Miwa served up a big hit making it go into the air, almost to the ceiling. She yelled an oops and sorry prior to running off behind Mai.
All throughout the rest of the team's serves, Levi had a mean scowl on his face and you could see that from where he stood or did you predict what he’ll look like. You laughed at your joke before it was your turn to serve. You bounced the ball on the floor once and positioned yourself on the line, holding the ball out and reeling your hand back before serving under. The ball almost hit Levi right in the face until he moved with a wide eyed stare at you. You hurry to yell sorry but Levi felt like that was intended since he did piss you off once, yet it wasn’t. Thing is, the speed of that ball was abnormal because usually he'd duck or dodge in a heartbeat, just then he barely moved in time. Miche was impressed watching on the sidelines if only Erwin was here instead of fucking someone on his desk right now then he would’ve seen this stunt.
Onyankopon was truly impressed so he had to see your overhand serve, so he had everyone do that next. Although this time, he asked Miche to stand there instead of Levi. Everyone overhand serves were good except for a few slip ups. Onyankopon made note of the five that slipped up. It was now your turn and he watched you carefully before looking around to find everyone looking at you. You’re gonna be a star if you make the team. A star right next to Maki and Mikasa.
Geto who was supposed to be coaching the boy’s volleyball team was watching you closely just like his co coach, Choso. Right now the boys were just serving non stop until he blew the whistle. Their tryouts were yesterday, so they were now just practicing. They watched as you angled your right arm in a 90 degree angle whilst your left arm was straight with the palm up. They both looked at each other, nodding their heads before looking over at onyankopon who nodded his head at them. They all knew that you knew what you were doing. You tossed the ball in the air and brought your arm up to smack it with so much force. Onyankopon took note of the way you stepped into the serve. It’s like you were a pro at this so he had no choice but to already think of recruiting you.
Now it was time to see if you can jump serve, set, and play the other positions well, especially the Libero position. And you played all of them astonishingly except for Libero. You hated that position so you didn’t even try and Onyankopon noticed that, which was a mistake on your part. He blew his whistle at the end of the tryouts, gathering you all around, “ Listen up ladies, I will let you all know if you made it at the next meeting, which is next week. This was a great tryout, probably the best tryouts I’ve ever seen over my years of coaching volleyball, if only coach Zoe was here to see what I saw in you ladies today. This is the conclusion of the tryouts and I will see you ladies soon. Now go shower and get to your next class or go home.” His voice was so smooth and deep, it drove you wild. He drove you wild already when you walked past him and smelt his cologne. You made note that it wasn't cheap cologne, so sexy to you.
You walked behind the girls to the locker room to freshen up. Your shower took a long time because you had to scrape off your sweat. You hated sweat sticking on your body. After washing your body, you dried off and got dressed. During the shower everyone said their see yous and goodbyes to you so you were the last one in the locker room getting dressed.
Once you finally got dressed in the other clothes you packed in your book bag you carried on your back, you walked out and almost screamed when you saw Mr.Ackerman standing with his back to the wall.
He looked unfazed at your screaming as he pushed himself off the wall stopping in front of you, “ Just for that little stunt you pulled, I’ll be giving you extra homework tomorrow.”
You scoffed and walked around him to walk off, “ It’s not even school hours for me and you’re getting on me. I didn’t even mean to do that honestly. So I will not be doing that extra work, see you tomorrow, Mr. Ackerman.” You hurried to walk away from that deranged little man and walked to your car in the parking lot. You would’ve stayed if he actually cared enough to keep you in his grasp longer.
After, you headed home while talking to Eren on the Bluetooth call. He just asked you about tryouts and gave you the address to the bar for tonight. You were excited to party because you needed it after this rough day. The only thought in your mind as you made your way home after ending the call with Eren is that your body will be sore tomorrow.
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Arriving at the bar took about fifteen minutes, so it wasn’t that far from the campus but was far from your house. You were now freshly done up like a doll. You looked so sexy in your choice of an outfit. You did your makeup perfectly. It was like you were a doll and an Angel at the same time. Dollgelic really.
Once you stepped into the lively bar, it was packed from the opening of the door. Eren spotted you while his arm was around Mikasa, who was stately immensely at you with a twinkle in her eyes. You made it, she didn’t think you would’ve come to be honest, you don’t seem like a bar kinda girl. More like a club kinda girl in her mind.
They both greeted you with a hug, both hugging longer than usual. You all begin to walk over to the group of students and all around you were cheers and whoop whoops from seeing you. Yeah they were drunk already but I mean what can you expect when you showed up an hour later than the original time the party started. Rather show up fashionably late or won’t go at all.
“ Hey new girl, you gotta drink your first shot of the night since you’re late missy, by the way the names Floch, what’s yours?”, Floch asked drunkenly. You smiled and looked at Eren with squinted eyes of ‘this better not be poison’ eyes and he nodded his head as a gesture of answering your question or reassuring you.
You took the glass from his hand and smiled, “ {reader’s name}, nice to meet you.” You took the shot after you said your piece, scrunching up your face at the sour and strong taste in your mouth. Floch shouted a loud yeah with his fist in the air as your face turned back to your regular face. He liked you already.
Eren shook his head and headed over to where Armin was sitting. On the other hand, you were heading towards the direction of the bar, only jumping when you felt a hand tug your hand, “ What the fu-” you paused when you saw who it was, “ oh it’s just you, Hi Sasha.”
Sasha squealed and hugged you so tightly like she knew you all her life, “ Oh my.. you remember my name. I would’ve thought you forgot my name.”
You stared at her with a confused expression on your face. You grabbed Sasha's face between both of your hands, squeezing her cheeks together, “ How drunk or high are you because we saw each other today—this morning.” You turned back to the bartender staring straight at you; he was admiring you so when your eyes caught his, his eyes widened when you spoke to him, “ Give me what she had, on rocks please?”
The hazel eyes went back to its original size prior to him speaking over the loud chattering and music to you, “ Coming right up and just know you have put me to work longer than I expected darling, but I’ll let it slide just this once for a beautiful lady like you.” You eyed him and noticed that he had a mullet and it looked so good on him and him only.
You were about to speak again when Sasha patted your hand with hers, “ Ywor Still hwding on tew mehh.” Her words were more slurred than usual due to your now squeezing her cheeks together with your soft hands. You laughed and threw your arms down, “ So sorry, Sash. I’ll head to the bar on that side and I’ll meet you all when I get the drink you had.”
Sasha yelled out the drink and your eyes widened. You remember drinking that same drink in the past and got wasted off the second go, so you now understood why she was wasted. You watched her laugh all the way until she got to where Maki and the rest sat. Continuing on, you positioned yourself at the end of the bar with pretty mullet boy still in view of you. You needed to get laid and you didn’t want to fuck any of the students, too much feelings and drama come with that. You haven’t fucked since this summer with your old play toy at your old school. God, you missed your old school more than ever now because you would’ve been in a club or party on campus, not a damn bar, especially a bar on a Friday night.
You didn’t notice the two pairs of brown and blue eyes staring at you from where they sat conversing at the table two feet from you. If you did, you would’ve noticed how handsome both men are.
“ Erwin, do you know who she may be?”, Nile asked his best friend. Erwin eyebrows were scrunched together as they took in every frame of your body. You were truly someone he needed. He needed to feel your big thighs wrapped around his waist as he holsted you up against him, fucking into you nonstop. He was surprised at his thoughts and snapped himself out of them by turning to Nile, “ No I don’t know who she is. Maybe she’s new in town, maybe she’s the sister of my new student who didn’t show up in class on her first day.”
Nile eyed you along with him as you thanked Jean for the drink, occasionally watching you take small drinks from it as your eyes scanned the club. It’s like you were scouting for a fuck and what perfect opportunity for Erwin and Nile. They just had to see which one would get to you first. Nile snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Erwin, only to see him not there. He was next to you. Shit, he’s late again. Oh well, his soon to be divorced wife will have to do for now, just until he gets Erwin to share.
You were enjoying the last few minutes alone before you had to go back to your group of people you were partying with until an alluring presence sat next to you with a drink in his hand already. You trailed your eyes from his hand that had two rings on them up until you got to his pretty blue eyes. Blue eyes scared you but he pulled you in. He was a handsome pale man, an older one at that. He was one of your types and that’s all you needed— flashing your pretty smile at him.
Erwin close-lip smiled back at you, sticking out his hand after, “ Hello, pretty lady. My name is Erwin Smith and I couldn’t help but come over to talk to you. You’re new around here, right?”
You nodded your head with a short laugh following, “ Oh, gosh, how did you know? Do I really give off the vibe that I’m lost or something?” You got him at the tip of your finger now, you just had to get him wrapped around the base of the finger.
Erwin took a sip of his drink and brought all of his attention to you, “ Just never seen someone as beautiful as you around here and this town is very little.”
“ How little?”, you replied, wrapping your glossy lips around your black straw, seducing him without even touching him.
“ Like a grape size, little. Still didn’t catch your name, darling.”, Erwin says with a small smirk on his face.
You started to giggle a lot which means you were a tad bit tipsy, so you needed to get laid immediately. “ You smiled and blinked your eyelashes at him, “ My name is { your name}, sir. I thought I told you that, hmm must’ve slipped my mind because I was focused on how sexy you are.”
Erwin smiled at your words and he haven’t smiled like this in years. You made him smile within minutes of you two talking with each other. Yeah, he needs you. He just had one more question to ask you, “ excuse me for asking this question but did you happen to move here with your sister who, by the way, was supposed to be in my class by any chance?”
You almost cackled at yourself because how did you score three points in a matter of minutes. Points of wrapping an men around your finger tonight, scoring an older man to fuck, and if you’re lucky you hope it’s a men in a profession job, preferably a teacher. You noted that you missed your class and he thought you had an older sister and you were the older sister. So you kept up with the lie with a devious smile on your face, “ I’ll only answer that question if we go somewhere quiet, I got a place in mind, what do you say, mister Smith?”
His eyes widened when you finished your question, he never met a woman that knew what and how to get what she wants— he was intrigued. Persuaded. Seduced. Enchanted. So he took his drink down with one gulp and watched you finish your drink, not wasting one drop. You even looked sexy while drinking your drink. You were perfect for him. Everything he wanted.
Erwin stood up and fixed his suit prior to holding out his hand for you to take as he led you to the bathroom. You gladly took it with your purse in your other hand not noticing the pair of hazel eyes staring at you both with wide eyes. He shook his head and walked to his friends greeting them with an arm around Connie's shoulder. He was happy to see his friends but the linger of you and his professor was clouding the back of his mind.
Back to you and Erwin, you both walked inside the one stall bathroom in the middle of the girls and boys bathroom. With the click of a lock, he turned back to you with low bedroom eyes, eyes dark with lust and lust only. Fuck, he needed you badly, Blisteringly when you gave him the look. The look of inviting. The look of want and desire next to the want to be desired.
“ Do you want the answer to your questi-mmph.”, you were interrupted by the feeling of his smooth but chapped lips on yours lips. The feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was everything you wanted and needed, now you just need them around your neck. He held you with so much care for a one night stand of you to be.
Your lips moved against his in a fast pace kiss. The movements of your heads moved in opposite directions as you two started to sloppily kiss each other. Small little whimpers and groans were heard in the big bathroom with the sound of rock music in the back. Erwin broke the kiss to whisper a small, deep “ jump” and you did. Surprisingly he helped you up and walked you to the sink— sitting you on top of it, not caring if you broke it or not, after all his buddy owned the bar.
Erwin starts to trail sloppy and sensually kisses over your face and neck while groping your plush thighs in between his long, slender fingers, “ you’re so goddamn sexy, my little dove. Gonna fuck you so good.” Erwin undressed your bottom half as you undid his belt buckle. He continued kissing over your breast as he trailed his warm fingers up your thighs again. He stopped at your warm pussy with lace panties covering your pussy, “ please grant me access to you, my little dove. Let me fuck you like you never took any cock before. Just… please.”
Your eyes widened as you stared straight ahead as he kissed up and down your chest, he was desperate for you as you were desperate for him. You two needed each other, him more than you. Up for debate right there. You whispered a small, “ Yes, take me. Fuck me because this is the last time you’ll see me.” He hated how you already had your priorities set and straight. What a woman.
He almost tore open the top part of your outfit until you stopped him, “ No, don’t do that unless you plan on spending 2k on this outfit again. Come on old man, you should know the value of clothes and how hard it is to come by nowadays.” Erwin stopped and scoffed at you prior to licking around the shape of your diamond hello kitty necklace your ex rich boy toy brought you, “ This old man is going to take you on a ride for a moment, brace yourself.”
He ignored your statement about the clothes because you were displaying how much of a rich brat you were, his actual type in women. He hated how much his ex mounted that into him or did he just attract rich snobby girls. Who knows. Not like he wasn’t a rich man himself.
With his last statement, he noticed you holding up a condom. Chuckling in response, he mumbled against your skin while bringing out his own, which was a larger size condom than yours. “ Smart girl you are. Not smart enough to carry my size though.” Your eyes widened at the Trojan magnum size condom, his dick was that big. How was it gonna fit? You never took anything that big before. You were breathing hard and Erwin noticed so he kissed you again to ease you up, “ breathe, little dove. I’m not gonna hurt you, as a matter of fact, we can stop at any time.”
The deep swimming pool of lust in his eyes made you more than eager to take him because for some reason you felt he wasn’t lying. His fingers curled under the lining of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles after the help of your hips lifting up to drag them down there. The cold air hitting your warm slightly shaved pussy was enough to make you shiver against him. His hands were freshly manicured and clean so you let him strum his fingers along the opening of your wet pussy.
You whimpered and he chuckled, “ I got you, little dove.” With that, he rubbed your clit in a slow circular motion making you whimper behind your hand. Your clit was so sensitive, always will be. So when the right man knew how to play with it, you couldn’t help but to fold under his touch. Your purse lay in the sink and your phone was vibrating loudly due to Eren, Mikasa, or Maki calling you to see where you went. You felt a tiny bit bad for leaving them unnoticed but you’re occupied with the man of your fantasies right here and wasn’t gonna let this opportunity slip from your pretty fingers.
You snapped Erwin’s shirt open as you two made out sloppily with spit drooling down both of your mouth’s in want. He hurried and shrugged it off before getting back to playing with your puffy clit. One of his fingers pushed inside of you and you gasped at the feeling of his thick finger pumping into you, “ You’re so pretty gasping for me, wanna hear you moan for me now, little dove.” You held onto the sink for dear life, nails could’ve broken from how hard you were gripping the sink on the sides.
Erwin pushed another finger inside of you, earning a whimper and moan from you, “ Please… go fas-uhhh!” Your moans were the prettiest he’s heard since fucking his favorite student and now situationship since she graduated now. He wouldn’t exactly call them to be in a relationship but he proudly says they were in a situationship since she still had a boyfriend.
Erwin curled his finger and watched your reaction to his fingers and God were you beautiful, “ So damn beautiful taking my fingers, now do you want anything else? Tell me what more do you want, little dove? Wanna become my little slut? Wanna be my little whore? Or do you want to be my Angel?”
His words and his fingers twist and curling inside you were making you come undone soon and you didn’t want to cum that soon. “ Treat me like an angelic whore. Your angelic whore, Mister Smith.” He smirked and stopped his movements for a second— pulling his fingers out but it seems like they didn’t want to let him walk away. Once he finally got them out, he laughed and brought them to his mouth.
“ Shit. You taste so delicious, little girl. So damn delicious just like an angelic whore.”, Erwin groans into your ear as he moves to finish unzipping his pants, letting his cock spill over his dress pants. His pre cum was oozing down his hole. Your mouth watered at the sight of his jumping cock— curved to the right with a girth and length that put other men to shame, pink flush mushroom tip with two visible veins running down his cock.
You breathed out a sigh and unconsciously moved your hands to your clit to play with it, only noticing what you were about to do when he gently slapped your hand. He looked at you with a stern look, “ That’s my job, tsk tsk tsk, a girl who doesn’t listen isn’t acting very angelic is she?”
You hated that he was taunting you and right about it, so you nodded your head in response. He shook his head, passing you the condom, “ Go on and put it on like a good little girl. Let me fuck you until you learn how to become an Angel again.” You reached to grab his cock in your hand, trying to wrap your hands around the entire thing, yet you couldn’t with the little inch of space left to connect your thumb to your other four fingers. That’s how much girth he had. He was a monster.
He was heavy in your hand as you grabbed the condom with your hand, seductively looking into his eyes whilst biting into the condom to rip it open with your teeth. You weren’t about to be a bitch and back down from taking the biggest dick you ever seen or had in your life. You then jumped off the sink still holding eye contact with him as you lowered yourself to your calves since you were still in your heels from Saint Laurent.
He watched you with curiosity in his eyes. He watched you put the condom in your mouth, feeling the glossy rubber in your mouth, moving your mouth a bit until you grabbed his cock with your pretty hands. He threw his mouth back when your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock.
He held onto the sink when you moved your head all the way down to the base of his cock, putting on the condom with a few coughs and gags from how full your mouth was. When you finally moved your lips off his cock and stood back up to sit yourself back onto the sink with a finger beckoning him to come over and get you, he knew he needed to see you again. “ You're a dream come true.”
You smiled at him in agreement. He stroked his condom wrapped cock with three strokes. Erwin soon rubbed the tip of his cock against your wet folds causing you to wrap your arms around his neck with a nod of your head. He caught the motion and moved inside of you slowly. You felt the rubber and the thickness of his cock spilling inside of you. The silent moan from you was everything he needed for him to ravish you. “ Never had anything like this, little dove.”
You shook your head and he laughed at you. Laughed at you again when you whined at the feeling of him stretching out your pussy when he thrust all the way inside of you with one go. You couldn’t take it, you thought you could but he was too damn big, “ fu-uhhh-ck, Erwin. I can’t.. I can’t.”
Your eyes suddenly watered and he kissed them away before they could drop down your chubby cheeks, “ I got you, little dove. You can take it.” You felt a surge of reassurance enter you so you wrapped your legs around his waist taking him by surprise as well.
He moved in and out of you once he felt you open up to him a little so now both of your moans and groans were mixed with the faded music in the background. You felt like you were in heaven as he gripped your hips with your fupa spilled over his hand, “ Shit, little dove, just like that.”
Your walls kept fluttering around him as you held onto his neck with a vice grip. He picked you up and walked to the wall. When your back hit the wall you knew you were no longer in control. His thrust began to speed up and slaps were heard loudly dancing along the walls of the bathroom. The grip he had on your ass only added to your pleasure, “ You’re fucking me so deep. S’deep~” the dragged out p’ told him more than enough.
Erwin sucked on your lip as he fucked your harder against the wall. The sound of your wet cunt and his balls hitting your ass was enough to add to both of your pleasures, you earned a groan from Erwin, “ Such a naughty little slut. Letting me, mmmgh!, take you against the wall of a bar bathroom.” He swirled his hips prior to snapping them against your thighs causing his cock to snap inside of your pussy hitting your cervix, more like planting gentle kisses on it. The pace got rougher and faster and you knew he was chasing his and your orgasm.
The snap of his hips did wonders to you, wonders that caused you to roll your eyes to the back of your head with your mouth open, letting out a loud moan. “ Fuck! Please keep hitting that spot. M’gonna cum. Gonna cum.” Once you kept babbling the words cum over and over again with tears pouring down your face and drooling down your mouth, he knew he had you wrapped around his fingers now. His grunts were raspier and he was close to spilling all of his hot cum inside the condom.
“ Fuck, this condom is not enough, darling. So we have to meet again in order for me to feel how great this pussy is. Need to feel your walls around me convulsing and taking me in, ready for me to breed this fat little pussy of yours.”, Erwin grunt in your ear as an ending for his statement. His words turned you in even more so when he kept kissing your cervix, your nails scratched down his back and legs tightened around his waist.
“ Ahhn~ m’cummin. Cumming. “, your moans were loud and anyone standing outside the bathroom could hear you loud and clear even with the loud music playing outside. Your cream dripped down your pussy and onto his condom, making the condom become creamy as still moved in and out of you nonstop. Fucking you through your orgasm. You never knew what that felt like until now and you loved it. But the tears that came with overstimulation was maddening.
Erwin followed suit and thrusted three more times before spilling himself inside of the condom. His neat blonde hair was now disheveled all over his head with drops of sweat pooling around his forehead. His breaths were harsh and loud as he continued to grip your love handles as he held you up against the wall. His trousers were to his ankles and his white shirt was drowned in sweat.
His body stuck to your sweaty body with your panties holding on to one ankle. Your heels were still on and the outfit you had on is long gone. This was the sluttest you've ever been in your life and honestly you loved it. Erwin kissed your forehead as you slipped off of him— just standing against the wall breathing in and out. “ My perfect little angelic slut, you did wonderful for me. The first one to take all of me, so proud of you.”
You were finally getting the validation you always wanted. You wanted someone to feel proud of you, to care for you with want or even love. You finally got it after years of not receiving it from your father or mother.
He pulled out of you and got rid of his condom after he stopped cumming into it. Your juices were sticky on the condom and his fingers. Fuck he wanted to feel that in his cock more directly, but he’ll have to wait a while.
Your legs were still shaking, “ Can you carry me to my car out the back door. Can’t let anyone see me like this. Pretty please, daddy. With a cherry on top.” You pop the p’ and he groaned. Only reason he groaned was because you called him the name he longed for you to call him while he was deep inside of your guts. You slipped your clothes on after sliding yourself from under him while he stared at himself in the mirror.
You had scratch marks on his back and he left you hickeys on your neck. Yet he wanted you to mark him like he marked you. He almost wanted to slap himself for getting too wrapped in already when he barely knew you. Once he seen that you were fully dressed and fixed up which was five minutes later. He let you get on his back and you two walked down the hallway, passed the men bathroom and out the backdoor. You told him where your car was and he walked you there.
He sat you down on the hood of your car before hearing you unlock your car. Once you did, he opened the door for you and placed you in the driver’s seat.
“ Here’s my number, Mr. Smith. I will see you next time right? Don’t really care if I don’t, just wanna make sure.”, You asked, giving him your card you made as you looked at him with doe eyes. Your makeup was a little messed up but that’s okay because he liked you like this. So messy just for him.
“ Yes, we will see each other again, sometime. Take care, little dove. Soak in epsom salt as well.”, Erwin says with a small smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes with a little laugh following, “ Will do, after all I have to prepare for my classes on Monday.”
Erwin's eyes widened and he was about to speak but you pulled off already leaving him distraught. You are a student and he didn’t even know that. Hell how could he when you two don’t know each other. He just hoped that you weren’t his student or a student in high school. He didn’t want a repeat or case.
Meanwhile, Eren, Armin, and Reiner were looking for you, hell even Mikasa and the other girls were wondering where you went and hoped you didn’t get snatched or something. Jean was the only one who knew where you were at but he just didn’t know your name. He’ll find out soon.
Oh there was a horny and crazy storm coming your way as you made your way to your house with a small on your face. The drinks that the girls brought were still on the table as they called you. Guess you were lying about wanting to drink.
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Tagging ⋄ 𓍯: @chosoist @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @neesieiumz @secretanimesimp @mastermindenoshimaalicia @bluupen @zealousblkgirl @babyzzlove @toxicangelsweets @bxrbie1 @haitanifxn @sinsexual1 @jamaicanqueenaa
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qierxing · 7 months
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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.
TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader
“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”
“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”
“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”
— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll
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vi. Mourning
It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.
Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.
So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly. 
It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.
Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.
"Hey Ace?" 
He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.
"Do you…like…being my friend?"
The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.
"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.
Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back. 
"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"
Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."
He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.
"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far." 
What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.
Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.
Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.
"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.
Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.
"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?" 
Another question out of left field. 
"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke. 
"Yeah…" they murmur back. 
"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.
"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"
"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"
Yuu shakes their head.
"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"
Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."
But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.
-
He should've known something was up since that night.
When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual. 
"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.
The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.
Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-
-then what had he done?
When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that. 
The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in. 
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"
Bang! Bang!
He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.
"Yuu–!"
"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-
"Ace, look at me!"
He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.
There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while. 
"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.
"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.
Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.
"What do you mean they're–"
"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."
Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–
He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.
He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"
"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."
And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.
He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.
Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.
But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.
Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.
Please let this be a bad dream.
-
He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things! 
Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-
Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone. 
Ace tried two more times to meet you. 
First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.
The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.
Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).
It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.
He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter. 
And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.
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vii. Embalming
The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.
That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.
Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.
No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.
The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough. 
He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.
It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now. 
What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly. 
The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.
It has your face. It acts like you.
But it's not you.
When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”
“You were so sure only because of that?”
He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.
But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.
Grim is missing again.
This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.
But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First]. 
The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).
But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.
The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.
“Go away.”
Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.
“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu. 
“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”
“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”
His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.
“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”
“What? What do you mean?” 
Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”
He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”
“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”
“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.
“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”
It bursts into laughter at his face. 
“Why, I only granted their wish!”
Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.
What did you wish for? 
-
It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon. 
In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations. 
And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.
Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.
“Come in.”
A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.
“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in. 
“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.
“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.
“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out. 
"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.
“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.
“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”
He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”
Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation. 
For once, he starts to resent not having more.
"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"
This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.
"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"
"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance. 
"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes. 
"Not the weird rules again…"
"Ace."
"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."
"You better, or else it's–" 
"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…
Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander. 
Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?
"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.
"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts. 
“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”
“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”
For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.
“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.
But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in. 
“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.
“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”
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viii. Calling Hours
“I’m not joking around, you two.” 
There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.  
“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”
“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”
The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.
“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”
“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”
"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"
It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.
“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”
Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"
"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally." 
Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."
The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.
"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.
"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."
Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.
A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.
"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"
"Don't even start." Trey groans.
Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—
A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."
Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement. 
"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"
Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."
Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."
"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.
"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."
"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."
Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?
He supposes that was his fault, though.
"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"
The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."
Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."
"Yeah, but look how that turned out."
"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"
Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash. 
"Cater." 
There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'
"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.
"Please don't lie to me next time."
With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen. 
Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.
Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?
It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.
It's just not fair. 
Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-
He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.
He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.
Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.
-
There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.
“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.” 
The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.
“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”
“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.
It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.
There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt. 
Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough. 
Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?
Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?  
His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him. 
"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"
You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards. 
"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.
"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?" 
Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."
The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…
But satisfaction brought it back.
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viiii. Eulogy
It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.
That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.
Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.
“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him. 
The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors. 
“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.
“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)
“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”
Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved. 
Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.
“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”
Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day. 
He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?
Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.
“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”
“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”
Trey swallows hard. 
“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”
“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”
He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.
Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.
Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).
But he worries.
Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges. 
It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.
Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down. 
He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.
As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.
If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants. 
Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.
So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him. 
He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute. 
You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.
The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.
Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate. 
The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes. 
His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. 
He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other. 
You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air. 
What was that?
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x. Entombment
It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu. 
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” 
Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.” 
Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”
“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear. 
Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.
His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.  
“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back. 
“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”
“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.” 
Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.
“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.
“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.
It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…
“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.
“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary. 
What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.
Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.
He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.
It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago. 
To never get on Cater’s bad side.
There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you. 
Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.
"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"
Deuce's neck prickles.
"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.
"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.
"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says. 
“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”
“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.” 
Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed. 
“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”
“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.
“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”
“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”
Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak. 
“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.
“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”
“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”
Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam. 
“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone. 
Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.
He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking. 
Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.
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violetszone · 10 months
Text
Rainbow Baby
Charles x fem!reader
From this request 
Summary: You had an accident and miscarriage when you were 3 months pregnant, but only Charles and a few relatives both of you knew that you were pregnant at the time of the accident. When you became pregnant again two years after the accident, this time you decided to not hide your baby and what happened in that accident.
WARNINGS: miscarriage, mental and physical problems, too much angst
A/n: not edited writing...
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It was the third month of your pregnancy, although your belly was not very clear, certain people around you knew about her pregnancy. You were glad when Charles suggested not to explain the baby to the outside world until you felt comfortable, you didn't want all eyes on you.
Charles was always there for the baby and was very attentive to you even in the first months.That's why when you said you were going out to dinner with your friends tonight, he insisted you not go.You kept talking to tell him it's okay and you're feeling fine today.
You were so excited when you finally persuaded Charles that you kissed him and left the house and drove off in your car. Everything happened so fast, even before you could tell there was a car coming out of the tunnel, you heard a crash and your car started to drift towards the wall at the tunnel entrance.The last thing you remembered was siren sounds.
Charles was with you when you opened your eyes. He was in a mess, when he saw you, he smiled for a moment and got up from where he was sitting on the hospital bed next to you and sat on the hospital bed, held your hand, you were looking around trying to understand where you were.
You frowned and the first thing you did when you realized that you were in the hospital was to put your free hand on your stomach and look at your stomach, your eyes filled with tears. Charles shook your hand and hugged you tightly as you started to cry "I'm sorry honey, I'm so sorry"
Losing your baby didn't affect you and Charles very well, but thanks to the love between the two of you, you were able to recover.It had been very difficult, but you believed that without Charles it would have been a wound that would never have healed.
Two years after the accident, the thing happened that made you both fully recover. You were pregnant again.This time you were both more sensitive, you knew this Rainbow baby would change your life.
This time you didn't want to hide the baby from the fans because you didn't want to make an effort to hide yourself and you didn't think you could mentally handle it.Charles, of course, supported you in this decision, he was aware that the last two years had a heavy impact on you rather than on him, so he stood by you in every decision as always.
For this reason, you prepared a joint post on Instagram and announced your rainbow baby to the whole world.Of course, within a few hours, the whole world was shaken by the news because most fans knew very well what a rainbow baby was.
Everyone seemed to go crazy, both of you started getting notifications and calls on your phones like crazy. You were expecting such a reaction but it hurt your heart that people were so knowledgeable about it because it probably meant that they experienced it too.
Charles was sitting next to you and when you looked into his eyes you saw again that man who could burn the whole world for you he took your hand and smiled at you "Charles, I think we should tell them, we can't keep it to ourselves any longer, they need to know what happened in that accident. After all, they know our baby now, I'm ready now I feel strong enough to talk about it"
Charles asked several times if you were sure about it, and each time you told him that you were fine and that it was important that you explain it.Starting from being actually pregnant at the time of the accident, you explained clearly how you collected yourself in these two years after the miscarriage and what your psychology was like.What Charles and you went through, what mental difficulties you struggled with, everything was in this article and you didn't hesitate to publish it, these were facts, you went through hard times.
Written from the point of view of the two of you, you explained what Rainbow baby means as a small footnote for those who don't know, while publishing this statement about what you've been through for two years, this baby was connecting you to life again.
You wanted not to answer the phone for a while after the statement was published because you kept thinking that there were people going through it and how hard it was for them too. Charles hugged you all day, you read books together and tried to stay away from everything electronic
When you looked at your phone in the evening, the news was really everywhere, everyone was sending support messages.Most women who have experienced this have sent you messages and the reason for your current sentimentality is that you were crying when you read their stories.
you felt more relaxed and now you were ready to live a new life when your rainbow baby was born.You could really feel the support that everyone sent, especially you were very grateful to Charles, who did not leave your side even though he was not well during these two years.This baby would be a new hope for all of you.
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foreingersgod · 19 days
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I love your work! Could you write kate Martin x fem!reader whose just a regular college student?
of course my love!
A/N: hi everyone! i’m still working on several requests right now so be patient with me! i promise they will all get done soon, but i’m a busy college student who only has so much time! they’ll be done soon, thank you so much for your patience and support, ily all !! if you have any questions about your request, feel free to message me :)
Living Life with You . KM
pairing: kate martin x reader
synopsis: kate is just so incredibly in love with you
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
midterms were swiftly approaching for the semester and everyone was scrambling to prepare, yourself included. you had about 4 exams that you needed to study for, ranging from chemistry to psychology to family finance. so you spent most of your days this week confined the comforts of your apartment, sat on the couch with you laptop on your lap and your notes spread across the coffee table.
it wasn’t abnormal for you to hide away when you needed to focus on your studies, but kate had planned to stay at your apartment all this week to spend time with you.
“i just don’t want these stupid midterms to ruin our week” you had told her one night over the phone. “i would feel bad if you just sat in my apartment and watched me study for hours, especially since having a full week to ourselves is so rare”
“i just want to be with you, baby, doesn’t matter if you’re studying or not” she reassured you.
sure enough, when kate arrived at your apartment, a bag packed and a quaint little bouquet of flowers for your kitchen counter, she had no problem with you studying. in fact, she had changed into her pajamas like you had done and sat herself on the couch directly next to you.
but the night was not just spent on the couch watching you study. she had offered to make you your favorite dinner (offer is a generous word, more like forced you to stay out of the kitchen so she could treat you) and set the table. she even washed your dishes that remained in the sink from earlier in the week so you wouldn’t have to stress about it for the night. kate had called you into the kitchen after about an hour, announcing that dinner was ready.
“please take a break and have dinner with me?” she pleaded, you could practically see those puppy dog eyes from the living room.
so you rolled yourself off the couch, stretching for the first time since 3 pm, clambering your way into the kitchen. what you were met with made your heart absolutely melt.
“hey, you hungry?” kate stood at the counter, dishing up your plates, dish rag thrown over her shoulder and sleeves rolled up to her elbows. god, your jaw must’ve been on the floor.
not only did kate look so irresistible making you dinner like this, but she had lit your ‘nice candle’ and set two spots next to each at your kitchen island for the two of you. she pulled a couple wine glasses out of your cupboard, setting them next to your plates as you walked over to her in the kitchen.
“babe, you did all this?” you stood behind her, resting your chin on her shoulder as she put the finishing touches on your plate. she grinned, feeling your arms wrap around her waist, turning around to face you.
“you’ve been working so hard to study for your tests,” she placed a sweet kiss to your forehead “and i wanted to do something special for you to help you wind down”
“ugh, i truly don’t deserve you” you pouted, kate grabbing your hand and guiding you to your seat. “i’ve just been sat on the couch hardly giving you the attention you deserve. you’ve been working just as hard with your team.”
“and you show me that everyday, you go to every single game, even if it’s an away game. you come with me to every banquet and event. you fix me up when i’m hurt and give me your undivided attention every single day. you’ve truly given me the world, YN” she sat next to you, pouring you both a glass of wine.
“i love you so so much, kate” you said, looking at the delicious scene in front of you. you’re favorite food, a nice glass of wine, all of it by candlelight, and your sweet girl at your side.
“i love you too,” she pulled you in for another kiss “and i love living life with you”
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genshin-obsessed · 4 months
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Hii! Hope you're having an amazing day! Can I request scaramouche, baizhu and dottore with a reader that can't sleep at night because of nightmares? They can only sleep 2-3 hours max before waking up because of another nightmare. I've been having night terrors recently out of blue so maybe some comfort might help with the issue ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ
✧ Hiya! Super cute, thanks for the request! I believe this is my first time writing for Baizhu which is suprising bc he's one of my faves. Sorry this took so long btw! ✧ Also, I genuinely feel for anyone who suffers with night terrors, I couldn't imagine what that would be like.
✧ Characters: Baizhu, Dottore, Scaramouche
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✧ Baizhu
Being a doctor, he did have some experience with night terrors before. He is wary of medication, as he knows that’s not a permanent solution.
Not only that, but night terrors have underlying conditions, which are easier to treat than the terrors, themselves. So, he'll try to work with that.
Of course, he's beside you every single night when you sleep. So, if you're thrashing or screaming, he can calm you and bring you back to reality. 2-3 hours a night isn’t enough sleep, so he’ll usually ease your stress and help you rest some more.
Getting better is going to take a long time, that's something you'll need to come to terms with but it is possible. One thing is for sure, Baizhu will never give up.
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✧ Dottore
He’s certainly seen cases before. Both mild night terrors and severe ones. He does have a few ideas to help them.
The last resort is medication for him, since it’s not the best thing to use to treat night terrors. The lack of sleep is the most worrisome for him, 2-3 is detrimental to the body.
Night terrors are frightening for both parties to deal with, so he takes it extremely seriously. It’s pretty much top priority for him. As mentioned earlier, he works on your sleeping the most. You need to sleep at least 7 hours a night.
You can expect him to be beside you every single night when you try to sleep. He’ll bring his research with him or a book, or even if he’s sleeping with you. He’ll hold your hand and even talk to you until you fall asleep. Dottore asmr.
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✧ Scaramouche
He understands as he probably has a minor case himself. Unfortunately, he’s no doctor so he doesn’t actually know how to treat it. But that doesn’t mean he won’t look for ways.
He knows doctors and so he’s quick to try and get any of them to help. When you had your visit, he paid attention to every single word spoken by the doctor.
Scaramouche takes it extremely seriously. Not only that, he understands how detrimental it could be both psychologically and physically. He tries his best to find ways to soothe you back into sleeping.
Scara will try to make sure you get at least 7-8 hours of sleep in a day. It’s ok if it’s not in one night. As long as you rest. He keeps a close eye on your diet as well to make sure you have enough energy and sugars in a day and not go overboard.
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whumpshaped · 8 months
Text
tw injuries, psychological whump, emotional whump, self-deprecation, lashing out, very wacky/distorted way of thinking
Whumpee came home way later than Caretaker had expected. They jumped up from the couch where they'd been curled up, ready to give their friend a big hug and ask where they'd been for so long.
"I just wanna sleep," Whumpee said before they could've done either of those things. "Please?"
Caretaker reached for the light switch. "I just wanna know–"
"Don't!" Whumpee snapped, making them freeze. "Please. Not right now. I can find my way around with my phone. Plus, the bugs will come in if you turn the lights on now."
"I... okay. Okay." Caretaker stepped back, letting their friend walk up the stairs without another word. It was strange, but they didn't smell any alcohol, or any other substance. Whumpee really just seemed tired.
The next morning, Whumpee was locked inside their room. Caretaker knocked softly, hoping to only catch Whumpee's attention if they were already awake. They heard an inquisitive 'mmm?' from inside, and they took a deep breath.
"Can we talk about last night?"
"I don't want to."
Caretaker nodded to themself. They had to be a little more stern. Just a little. "I do. And I'm worried. I'd just like to know if you're okay."
"I am."
Well... that didn't lead anywhere. "Please come out."
"Can I sleep some more first?"
Caretaker sighed. "Yeah. Of course. Please come out once you've slept enough."
It had been several hours when the door finally opened. Caretaker tried not to be pushy, but they had to at least poke their head into the hallway. Whumpee was way overdressed for the weather inside, and their hair was covering half their face. Caretaker frowned, immediately recognising it as Whumpee hiding something.
"You wanted to talk?" Whumpee asked quietly. They seemed... scared.
"Yeah. But you're not in any sort of trouble, okay?" They beckoned Whumpee over to their room and they hesitantly complied, sitting on the bed while Caretaker took the chair. "What happened?"
"I lost track of time," they said curtly. They were wringing their hands nervously, eyes darting around the room to avoid looking at Caretaker. "Sorry. And then I was really tired, like I said."
"Where did you get the bruises?"
Whumpee's eyes snapped up to them, wide and terrified. Bingo. Caretaker hadn't seen any bruises, but they just had a hunch. "Wh- what bruises?"
"The ones you're covering up now. It's hot inside, you would never wear this stuff otherwise. Is that why I couldn't turn on the lights either?" It was slowly dawning on Whumpee that Caretaker didn't actually know for sure, and they'd just given themself away with their reaction. They looked down at their lap. "Whumpee, I'm not mad. I'm concerned. Can I see?"
"I'd rather you not."
"Please."
Whumpee shifted a little, tucking their hair behind their ear with shaky hands. They had a nasty black eye. "Can we stop here?" they whispered.
Caretaker bit their lip, really wanting to push until Whumpee showed them all the injuries so they could treat them. But that wasn't what they needed right now. "If you don't have any that require immediate attention, yes."
"It's all just bruises."
Caretaker nodded. "No broken bones?"
"I don't think so."
"Okay." They leaned back in their chair, trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room. "You get into fights a lot," they began carefully. Whumpee shrugged.
"I guess."
"You seem to like getting into fights a lot." Another shrug. "You seem to... it's like... you don't want to win them at all. You never have any chance of winning."
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want you to tell me why you go out there and provoke people into beating you up."
Whumpee tensed up a little, then just shrugged again. "That's a stupid accusation. I don't do that. I just get into fights because I have opinions, that's it."
"You know that's not true. You start fights and then let them use you as a punching bag. That's what you do. And I don't understand why."
"I don't either!" they snapped. "Okay? Is that what you wanted? I don't know! It's weird, it's pathetic, it's disgusting, it's stupid! Is that what you want me to say? I know all that! And I don't know why I keep doing it!"
"Calm down. I'm just–"
"It hurts!" They pushed up the sleeves of their sweater, revealing bruises left by people yanking them around a little too forcefully. "It hurts, it's not fun, I– I never know how to stop it. Part of me doesn't want it to stop. So I just don't say anything. I just let them do it until it hurts too much and I cry like a stupid baby. And then they laugh and leave me alone– or they get angrier and go even harder. 'Stop starting fights you can't finish!' I wish I could! Okay? I wish I could keep my mouth shut."
Caretaker stood up from their chair and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to their friend. They pulled them into a gentle embrace, allowing them to cry openly. "Why do you punish yourself so much?" they murmured. Whumpee shrugged again.
"I... I'm so scared. I'm so scared of being bad. I don't want to be bad." They took a shuddering breath, chuckling a little. It quickly turned into more sobbing. "I feel like... so long as I'm the victim... but, but only while I'm the victim, and a good victim, a quiet one... I can't be the bad one."
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw
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solarsturniolo · 3 months
Text
Texts with FWB!Chris
Tags: @flowerxbunnie 💋💋
Warnings: suggestive content / suggestive pictures / cursing / mentions of drug use / possessive / borderline manipulation if you squint
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mysisters-bike · 8 months
Text
Eric Harris was not a psychopath.
I know, this is a controversial title. Allow me to explain. TL;DR SUMMARY AT END! And, before continuing, do not mistake my presentation for sympathy.
What inspired my professional research in the first place was the trope that Eric was a psychopath. This trope was, I believe, popularized by Dave Cullen's awful account of the events at Columbine. First of all, Dave Cullen is not a psychologist or mental health professional. Next, Dave Cullen's work has been referenced by professionals as if he were a psychologist.
You're probably wondering why some person posting on Tumblr feels more qualified to speak on this. My credentials: I am qualified to conduct research on humans, I have a BA in Psychology, and a Masters in Forensic Psychology. My chosen career path focuses on intervening on at-risk youth before they become school shooters. I chose to present my research in an accessible location and not hide it behind research journal pay walls.
The biggest takeaway I want you to get from this is that severe mental health diagnoses take away from the smaller warning signs we need to be paying attention to.
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So, what was Eric's "problem?" His behavior is rooted in poor childhood socialization. We know this already. Eric moved around a lot as a child. Throughout his crucial developmental years, the family moved three times: Kindergarten through second grade at 2 schools in Ohio, then to Oscoda, Michigan. In Sixth grade, and a portion of seventh, he was in Plattsburgh, New York. The remainder of his middle school and high school years were completed in Littleton, Colorado.
Eric's high mobility is an explanation for his poor social skills. A study conducted by Robert T. Webb, PhD, Carsten B. Pederson, DrMedSc, and Pearl L.H. Mok, PhD (2017) supports this theory. They conducted research on over 1 million children in Europe and analyzed the psychosocial affects of "moving around a lot" in childhood. This sort of scenario is commonly seen in children of military families; Eric's dad was active-duty Air Force and is the reason they moved so much.
This research found the children who moved around more were at higher risk for: attempted suicide, successful suicide, and deviant behaviors. Violent offending spiked in those who had more mobility in mid to early adolescence. The study reported even higher risk for those who saw multiple moves in the same year, which is something Eric also experienced.
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Barker and Berry (2009) found that children of active-duty military caregivers often experienced behavioral issues while their parent was deployed and excessively attached behavior when the parent returned. In a separate study conducted by Flake, Davis, Johnson, and Middleton (2009), children of deployed caregivers exceeded Pediatric Symptom Checklist (PSC) cut-off scores for high risk psychosocial morbidity. Meaning, these children had the highest possible likelihood for behavioral issues rooted in interpersonal starvation. This is a dangerous hot and cold game to play with adolescents that are still learning and understanding the meaning of attachment. 
Forming connections and then quickly abandoning them could understandably create an inability to form deep, personal attachments with others. When he did form these connections, perhaps he clutched them a little too closely. These relationships may have been highly volatile if Eric feared he may leave them and lose their connection, just as he had experienced so many times before. The slightest movement may have triggered an aggressive response out of fear. 
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Eric’s inability to keep and maintain a friend group wasn’t his fault – he did not learn how to properly socialize as a child. Sure, he was friendly and polite, but those are surface-level traits. After breaking the ice, friends of Eric began finding that he was pushy, controlling, and even a bit callous.
While Eric was noted as kind and polite, he was often regarded as shy as well. This shyness may have been influenced by trouble with low self-esteem. In a journal entry dated 11/12/1998, Harris wrote, “Everyone is always making fun of me because of how I look, how fucking weak I am and shit…” (Note: Eric's surgery for pectus excavatum as well as being bow-legged)
We’ve gently and briefly begun the exploration of Eric's childhood and understand the ways in which it could have affected him, behaviorally. The sad truth is, however, there just isn’t more data to help us understand the intricacies of his upbringing. I believe it is incorrect to say he wasn’t met with love by his family.
 I do believe, however, this was the case of a child who was gentle, sensitive, and whose personality required fragility and a compassionate parenting style. He was treated a bit more ruthlessly than he was able to withstand by being subjected to an authoritarian parenting style, which we will certainly unpack further in the coming research. I cannot imagine this was on purpose, but I do feel he was forced into being a tough, surface-level person that he was not capable of being. Truly, Eric was probably a very weak person. 
IN THE END, ERIC REQUIRED CONTROL IN HIS RELATIONSHIPS. Because of his constant social upheaval, Eric fucking hated not having control. This is a common pattern in attachment styles; avoidant, anxious, ambivalent, etc. We crave control because, for so long, our lives were unpredictable.
Okay, what about his inflated ego? Eric's sense of self was greatly inflated in private, but in public, he was quiet, shy, and relatively unlikeable. He equated himself to a god -- a god of what? He was a master of nothing in real life. Eric's insecurity led him down a path in which he privately lived out his fantasy of being better than those around him.
The most important thing that gets overlooked and nullifies the idea he was a psychopath was the fact that he did feel. Evidenced in his journal:
He expresses that he doesn't want blame to fall on his friends or family. He also writes that he has no self-esteem, he wishes he was accepted more, mourns his relationship with his Dad ("I had a lot of fun at that gun show, I would have loved it if you were there Dad. We would have done some major bonding. Would have been great. Oh well."), he's upset about not having friends ("I hate you people for leaving me out of so many fun things. And no don’t fucking say “well that’s your fault” because it isn’t, you people had my phone #, and I asked and all, but no. no no no don’t let the weird looking Eric KID come along, ooh fucking nooo."), and is self-conscious of how he behaves ("why the fuck can’t I get any? I mean, I’m nice and considerate and all that shit, but nooooo. I think I try too hard.")
Lastly, the infamous scene from the Basement Tapes in which Eric is crying and says a tearful goodbye to his friends that he wishes he could have said goodbye to. Read more here, page 8.
Eric's journals are filled with anger, hate, and deplorable language. But in my opinion, he does not bear the mark of a psychopath.
TL;DR
Moving around a lot interrupted Eric's ability to socialize in childhood
As a child, Eric was likely sensitive and required a gentle parenting style and was instead met with an authoritarian style that focuses on obedience rather than nurturing
Eric's own words demonstrated his ability to feel emotion, remorse, and self-consciousness.
Eric's "inflated ego" was a show he put on in private because he wasn't accepted by his peers; it was a defense mechanism to protect himself
Overlooking small behavioral patterns in favor of severe conclusions forces us to miss the warning signs after it's too late. It’s hard to hear, but sometimes it doesn’t take that much for people to do horrible things to one another. 
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cupcakeslushie · 1 year
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Separate Donnie is just so precious but also I want to put him in a jar a shake him like a kid with a firefly
DONNIE TIME!! Strap in, this one’s gonna be long
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@raisondetre2012 @cutesybumbleb
Donnie struggles a lot in the beginning with distinguishing his brothers from his hallucinations. It helps that his real brothers act so different from the harsh figments that constantly torment him, but his brain will still trick him into listening and believing what they’re saying. The family has to be very careful at first when Donnie’s deep in one of his episodes, as there’s no telling how he’ll react to them intervening. Sometimes they’re able to guide him back with soft spoken words of encouragement, and other times he’s convinced they’re just trying to get him to let his guard down and he’ll get pulled deeper into the fog of his hallucinations.
The family’s knowledge of everything Donnie went through with Draxum is sort of limited down to: traumatic events Donnie has mentioned jokingly in passing, the horrifyingly casual way Donnie talks about testing things on himself, and just seeing with their own two eyes that Donnie has clearly been put through severe physical and psychological trauma for a long time. Mikey is probably the only one brave enough to ask about specific scars like Donnie’s metal plate and his wrists, but after hearing the blunt and honest recounts from Donnie, no one really feels a strong desire to dig any deeper.
@redheadedhypocrite They all have their own issues but Leo and Mikey are better able to mask theirs, unlike Donnie who can’t really contain his own panic any time he thinks he’s done something wrong. They just try their best to avoid any land mines, because hearing Donnie grovel and stutter his way through apology after apology for any little perceived mistake is pretty heartbreaking for all of them.
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Donnie has a hard time with accepting that he deserves his place in the family, and thus will often still refer to himself silently as Three. He doesn’t really understand that the things Draxum did to him were unforgivable. He was always led to believe that Draxum was just trying to make him stronger so he could stand next to his brothers once the time came that they were all reunited. It doesn’t help that when they are reunited, even if it’s not in the way he’d thought—he’s kept from joining his brothers in their patrols for months. Leo and Mikey are left to babysit him for a while, but even then, they rejoin Raph and April before Donnie is allowed out. And the way Splinter treats him is so alien to Donnie, the doting and the affection. He wants to be Donnie so badly, but he hasn’t done anything to deserve it. Life was so simple with Draxum. Three would do something, anything really, and be punished. Nine times out of ten, Three was able to predict how the end results would play out—with Donnie, everything is an unknown—and he hates not knowing.
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Donnie’s first run in with Draxum is fine in the moment, his brothers and April are there, and Draxum’s attention is more focused on Raph, Leo and Mikey and trying to convince them to join him. And his family instinctively puts themselves in between Draxum and Donnie so there’s no mistaking where their opinion of Draxum lies. It’s only towards the end where for a split second in the chaos of battle, that Draxum gets a moment alone with Thre—Donnie, but that’s all his previous guardian really needs to throw Donnie off. The battle ends and they retreat, but Donnie can’t help but over analyze Draxum’s words for the rest of the night, getting no sleep and replaying the encounter again and again. Sleep doesn’t come, and in the morning…
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@imtiredandcoffeeismylifestyle
Not sure if you guys checked out the character sheet, I’ll link that above, it’s got all their ages, and then the start of the comic, where Mikey gets rescued, is a sort of prologue and then when Leo and Donnie’s stories comes in a year later would be the start of the show, so ages are 14, 15, 16, and this takes place over two years with a bunch of stuff in between before the finale fight with Shredder, then a two month break where Leo goes on a type of vision quest and has to return quickly as the events of the movie call him back home.
A lot of Donnie’s scars are from experiments, while most of his psychological scars are from punishments. We’ll see a lot more of what Draxum did to Three so I wont go into much detail there. While with Leo, most of his scars are from him failing to follow through The Shredder’s orders or expectations. Most happened early on, during training, and as Leo grew, so did his ability, which meant fewer punishments, and more praise from Saki.
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Three was fed pretty close to a regular soft shell turtle diet, mostly fish and 🤢 insects and frogs—bleh. Which he didn’t really…enjoy, but it’s not like he had much choice. As he got older and was able to fix his own meals, he would more often choose flavorless juice smoothies, and only fall back on the other options when he needed the variety. Donnie is pretty picky when he joins the fam, but he trusts Mikey’s suggestions over his other two brothers. All in all though he much prefers the diet he has now.
@tksmainhellhole The bandana is to cover up the scars on his head, which were some of Three’s first, and so he was more self-conscious and attempted to hide them. Eventually though, he has so many that he doesn’t care, but for some reason he likes the feeling of the bandana and so he keeps wearing it.
Raph, Leo, and Mikey can kind of remember enough turtle to instinctively communicate back. Leo’s pride prevents him from doing it unless Donnie is in distress. Otherwise Raph and Mikey think it’s adorable and have fun with it.
Three/Donnie would normally hate being covered in grime and he’ll usually wash off the oíl as quickly as he can, but he loves picking off the dried spray paint (omg he’s just like me fr). So with it there, it’s a great alternative to, ya know—other bad habits.
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Donnie and Raph will both go non-verbal when pushed to a certain point. Raph tends to hide when he does this (except from Splinter or April), but Donnie will seek out comfort.
@snailsnaps When Donnie is overstimulated he tends to either shut down if it’s really bad, or if it’s just enough to give him a headache or irritate him he’ll go find someone to latch on to who he can zero in on and ground himself in. With how quickly his brain works, being under stimulated happens far more often, and is usually what brings on his work binges and some of his more chaotic ideas.
He’s more aggressive before sleeping, when he’s gone on a five day bender of zero sleep and constant tinkering. Getting him to finally pass out is where the struggle comes in. He’s pretty hard to wake up once he’s out, even in the midst of a nightmare, he’ll come awake on his own. Leo and Mikey are more the, don’t approach after waking, or risk being attacked types. But sometimes when Donnie goes into his own headspace, and dissociates too deeply, it’s best to leave him alone, since he doesn’t like to be touched during those moments. That’s when you could lose a finger.
Donnie and Raph have a great relationship, and Raph is the one who Donnie probably goes to the most when he’s overstimulated, because a Raph hug is better than any weighted blanket—Donnie can focus on Raph’s calm breathing and his heartbeat and the warmth of his arms around him, nothing at all like the cold, hard vines that Draxum would entangle Three in until he was practically suffocating.
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@space-is-spooky Check out this post here for your answer on Splinter talking about Donnie!
@redheadedhypocrite I think I mentioned a while back that Donnie is more wistful when he thinks about what could’ve been his childhood, but he’s not bitter so much, as he doesn’t even really think he deserved to be rescued. He’s just grateful that he’s even allowed a place in this perfect, happy family, when he’s only ever been a disappointment.
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@ifyourereadingthisblinktwice
Donnie, when he is finally allowed to join his brothers in battle, has a hard time with larger groups of opponents, since he’s got the least amount of field experience. He tends to do much better from afar or from higher ground where he can see the whole picture. He’s probably the stealthiest after Leo, but with Leo on the front lines directing the team with Raph, Donnie is the one who gets sent in for recon and intel gathering, and then he’ll take more of a backseat role, taking out stragglers and calling out positions. This doesn’t mean he’s helpless though, he’s just more used to fighting one on one, as that’s how Draxum trained him. He’s still a master with his bo and once he taps into his ninpo and has more training on how to work with his brothers, they all feel better about letting him jump into the thick of it without worrying that he’ll get hurt in the choas.
Also Donnie would 100% use explosives in battle if he didn’t have to worry about his bros and April being caught up in the blast. When he unlocks his ninpo he can create some pretty specific weapons that allow him more controlled, but just as fun explosions!
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kira-fluff · 10 months
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haikyuu!! neurodivergent headcanons 💕
tw: several listed mental illnesses, some of these are solely off of vibes but most of them I have reasons lol note! I do not believe autism is a mental illness or something that is "wrong" with an individual, hence why the title is "neurodivergent" rather than "mental illness". just had to put that out there! to all my neurodivergent babies I love you! a/n: hello! as a neurodivergent like myself (depression, anxiety, ptsd, bulimia, etc etc) i thought it would be really cool to do an analysis on one of my biggest hobbies (psychological illnesses) and relate them to haikyuu characters! some of them have a deeper explanation because I feel so strongly about it.
attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADD/ADHD) BOKUTO, hinata, NISHINOYA, atsumu, lev
generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) sugawara, OIKAWA, asahi, yamaguchi, yachi, aone, akaashi, tendo
social anxiety disorder (SAD) asahi, KENMA
post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) oikawa
depression (MDD) oikawa, KENMA, kuroo, suna, matsukawa, tendo
autism sakusa, USHIJIMA, kageyama, kyotani, kenma
eating disorder(s) (AND, BND, BED) OIKAWA, KENMA
obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) oikawa
borderline personality disorder (BPD) daishou
insomnia kuroo, kenma, osamu
hypersomnia suna
analysis under the cut
it's pretty obvious that bokuto struggles the most to self-regulate, even to others, but I personally believe that oikawa struggles the most with his mental health.
like almost everyone in haikyuu, oikawa is obsessed with volleyball, but he takes it to a point of overexertion and taking his anger and frustration at his own inadequacies out on others.
I really think oikawa's relationship between he and kageyama and he and ushijima are the ones that show how bad his anxiety is
ushijima and kageyama both don't understand the emotions oikawa is feeling which could be written off as them not understanding their talents, but I think it's something more
to me, I feel it is blatantly obvious that ushijima is autistic. he just so frequently seems to be unable to read the emotions of others or takes things literally when it's something else intended. I'm not autistic, though, so autistic community, let me know your thoughts!
bokuto and hinata both have an insane amount of energy, but struggle to be successful in school. sports works for both of them because their focus is constantly needed to be diverted or "all over the place" that it helps them be great players
kuroo is one of those other characters that I feel like I'm reaching to say he has mental health struggles but to me it just comes off in vibes. first of all, any kid with divorced parents should be in therapy so I feel there's definitely some struggles there.
I think kuroo is the type that hides his struggles and pretends they aren't happening. he puts a lot of pressure on himself to be the best at everything he does, and so he feels he doesn't have time to deal with the emotions that leave him feeling empty
kenma was someone I immediately felt was autistic. he has so many key factors like an obsession/hyperfocus on his hobbies and trouble socializing (social anxiety).
kenma has some of the strongest evidence toward my beliefs, specifically in this quote: "I'm not good with people, and I don't want to interact with them. and yet, I'm very concerned about what others think of me." like, tell me that doesn't radiate autistic/SAD vibes!!!!
idk what it is, like inadequacies or what but I genuinely believe oikawa has some kind of trauma. like he's definitely carrying something that so heavily effected him that it controls the choices he makes in life
I don't have much evidence that suna has depression, it's just a vibe because of his mannerisms and what he says. I think it's the kind where it's well-managed, but it shows up in physical symptoms like apathy more than anything.
atsumu gives ADHD vibes solely because of like how all over the place he is and how he can't always seem to properly get out what he's trying to say lol
sakusa is one that to me could be seen as "done with your bullshit" but I think he also hates crowds (like me, I mean who doesn't) and struggles socially probably because of anxiety or autism. not sure!
basing daishou off of vibes, too, because if I'm being honest all I've seen in the show is him having hostile relationships or being on-off with them, though its certain I could be reading too much into it, but that's the fun of headcanons.
do you agree with what I wrote? I would love to hear your thoughts!
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captmickey · 4 months
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Gonna dump thoughts here as mentioned earlier.
So, like, brain is nonstop thinking of Trevor post-Arcadia (as do we all, really) and like... how horribly psychologically skewed his perspective is.
And then I thought of all the ways it sort of... flares? Starting with, say, meeting Angela's other friends which she does have as shown in the pictures.
Thinking how he has "episodes" of doubts (such as thinking he heard the Jingle, thinking living outside of Arcadia isnt real since its too good to be true, being too exposed when out shopping, sometimes even mourning a loss of what he used to know) that has him practically spiraling.
Sometimes he gets snippy. But it always has him apologize to Angela before, during and after said episode. He's not mad at her, he's not holding her to anything... but it's still a lot.
That being said, one of the spiral episodes is when Angela keeps getting texts and calls from friends and Trevor starting to think about how he doesn't... have any sans Angela.
The last person he thought was his friend (that died no less) turned out to be an NPC that was actually super duper alive and lying to him.
Angela (after talking) decides on taking him to meet her friends, it'll do him good, really. And he's okay with it at first. He's meeting real people... he thinks.
He thinks they're all staring, just like a viewer would. Spiraling begins and oh. Oh he is not okay. They're going to judge him, maybe vote what will happen to him or whatever other bullshit scheme Vivian has for him.
Until the doubts creep up that maybe this isn't real, that maybe one or three of them are NPCs. The thoughts spiraling into hey look, again, he's the center of attention and he doesn't like it and it's just too much noise of talking and doubts and bad.
Which is not the case, they're worried for him. Angela more or less gave only the context that he is has severe social anxiety... they don't need to know that he has nearly three decades of trauma to unpack.
Absolute heart wrenching bonus if one of her friends, with zero malicious intent, accidentally made it worse by trying to help calm him and jokingly said they don't give two shits about his past, that he's safe.
And That’s Enough to have Trevor back away and panic and Angela needing to rush over and help and the friends frantically trying to apologize.
And yeah. I have thoughts lmao.
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transmutationisms · 7 months
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thoughts on adhd diagonsis and the rising numbers of it? heard a couple different theories, including a school therapist saying that he thinks children are just getting misdiagnosed because they’re cutting recess times, but interested in your thoughts! lol
yea i talked about this a bit here but i would add for clarity:
this kind of narrative of 'rising rates of' [any dsm diagnosis, in this case adhd] is kind of misleading on the surface because these numbers, and cultural and medical attitudes toward these labels, vary widely. matthew smith gives a very abridged introduction to varying attitudes toward adhd globally, and points out that countries that have 'embraced' the adhd diagnosis and its corresponding drug treatments tend to be countries where pharma companies have pushed to expand their market for these drugs, and have been able to succeed in partnering up with local and regional medical guilds and practitioners' professional interests. which is to say that any 'rise' in 'adhd' should be interpreted with an eye to material factors, meaning, specifically, profit-seeking and broader patterns of imperialism and global market expansion.
none of this is to say that the impairments people experience in adhd are any less real, debilitating, or distressing. however, when we ask about those impairments becoming more widespread or severe, often the conversation becomes rapidly re-routed to cover only a narrative of individual cognitive or neurological 'failures' constituting a distinct 'disorder'. elided from this framing is the idea that an impairment of this sort arises not just from the individual's brain-mind-body, but from the extent to which that person is being accommodated by their social context, specifically demands for productivity, sustained attention, &c in the home / school / workplace.
the core research methodologies & data interpretation in the psy-sciences embed social valences into neuro-psychological investigations, heightening the perceived contrast between, eg, 'normal' and 'adhd' brains / neurotypes / &c. susan hawthorne points out that this is a powerful feedback loop: social values are embedded in the scientific investigations, the results of which are then of further social interest, and together social and scientific values tend to converge, mutually reinforce one another, and strengthen the ideas and data interpretations supporting the concept of a discrete, pharmacologically actionable, transhistorical and cross-societal brain disorder.
i truly cannot overstate the extent to which it matters that when ritalin arrived on the us market in 1955, psychiatric diagnosis of and pharmacological prescription for children's behaviours were in a very different state to how they are today. it is quite common (in psychiatry but also in other branches of medicine!) that diagnostic definitions and categories change, or even come into existence altogether, at the behest of pharmaceutical companies who need a diagnostic label in order to ensure insurance coverage for patients interested in taking their patented drugs. this combined with marketing direct to patients, and paid promotion to physicians, is a critical piece of the history of the adhd diagnosis.
because i always feel the need to make this crystal-clear: i do not oppose or object to people seeking or using stimulant medications lol. i <3 stimulants. that's not what this is about. i want you and me both to be able to use white-market amphetamines whenever we damn well please and you don't need to justify that on any moral or medical grounds. xx
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cannedbeefaroni · 10 months
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The Bad Touch (Edward Nashton X Reader) (SMUT MDNI)
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Part 2
Summary: You are a social worker at Arkham Asylum. The high profile criminal, The Riddler, is assigned as your patient after he's gone through many failed attempts of treatment. You devise a sinister plan to become the only therapist capable of treating Mr. Nashton.
Content: SMUT 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MEDICAL MALPRACTISE, MANIPULATION, POWER IMBALANCE (for those reasons, i consider this fic to be DUBCON), Reader and Edward have a bit of a role reversed Harley Quinn and Joker dynamic, Edward is described to struggle with hypersexuality and paraphilias (based on how the reader is described, they also have those issues), handjob, oral sex, exhibitionism (public sex), physical restraints, degradation
Y/N is referred to in second person as you/yours and is written to be entirely gender neutral.
In order to survive in your line of work you have to be at least a little bit insane. Over the many years of being a therapist at Arkham Asylum you’ve felt yourself becoming a dull, emotionally detached person. It was ironic, considering you went into psychology with the goal of helping people. Despite this feeling, you acknowledged that you were probably the least jaded and cruel social worker in the asylum. Your coworkers thought your methods were ineffective and soft, and your bosses didn’t assign you patients as often as you’d hoped. You liked to think of yourself as an understanding and approachable person, but your qualities weren’t appreciated. Things started looking up, though, once you were assigned a patient for the first time in a while. He was the high profile public enemy, The Riddler, AKA Edward Nashton. He’d been institutionalized several months ago upon his arrest, and in that time he’d gone through countless therapists. They all said the same about him, that he was uncooperative and didn’t seem to want help. You were assigned to be his designated therapist as a last resort. You felt prideful despite knowing you weren’t even close to being the first option. You had never gotten to speak with any high profile criminals like Mr. Nashton, and you were excited about it. 
You expected to be somewhat intimidated by his presence, but he just seemed to be an incredibly depressed and lonely man. According to the others’ notes, you found out that everything he had done as The Riddler was for the sole purpose of validation and attention. He had been diagnosed with OCD and severe C-PTSD. You had no question as to why he’d become the way he is. He was broken by the world around him, and let it corrupt his mind past the point of return. Before speaking to him, you’d heard so much about him being completely insane and “in another world,” but it was as if you were the only one who truly understood him. During your sessions you couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, which was something you tried very hard not to do. You were able to speak to him, but trying to push his boundaries ever so slightly to talk about him being treated, he’d either go silent or push back hard. He kept saying that he didn’t believe anything in this world could fix him, and that he didn’t want to be “fixed.” 
You realized what's hindering his ability to move past all this was crippling loneliness. He had absolutely no family, friends, or acquaintances. You became frustrated knowing that as a therapist, there was no way to help him in that department. Sure, you could encourage him to be more social but beyond that there’s nothing. You had a sinking feeling that in another universe under different circumstances, you could be that person he could lean on. It was wrong to feel that way, and you knew you should’ve passed his case onto a new therapist for that, but you didn’t want to. You needed to prove yourself as capable. You wanted to be the one to get Mr. Nashton to the point of accepting treatment. Medical malpractice was common at Arkham, so you didn’t feel guilty about doing anything it takes to reach your goal. 
You’d remember the times he’d lament about how he felt truly unlovable. You paid extra close attention whenever he discussed his past relationships. He only ever had sex once as a young adult, and afterward he became hypersexual, obsessing over the idea of having sex again. He found it impossible to find another partner once that relationship had ended. In order to combat that loneliness, he became voyeuristic, developing obsessions with people, stalking them, and even sometimes going as far as performing sexual acts on himself in public areas. He grew bashful over discussing those feelings, which you knew were natural, but deep in your mind you thought it was cute, but you were too professional to let those feelings surface in your mind. You could tell that him lacking any romantic or sexual partner for so long was one of the significant factors in his depression. 
Ever since the topic of sex was brought up in your sessions, you had an idea creeping in your mind. At first it disgusted you, but after much contemplation, you decided that it might just be the only thing that will truly get to him. On the day you decided to carry out your idea, you had already perfectly planned the session out in your mind. It would be efficient and practical, you just needed to make sure no one suspected a thing. You collected an arrangement of items you’d need and concealed them in your pockets. You knew no one else would understand, but you had faith in yourself. 
You greeted him in the plain, empty white room you’d become accustomed to. Unlike a typical room used for therapy, there was a table between the two of you, creating a distance. You both sat on quite uncomfortable wooden chairs, and his hands were cuffed behind his back for your safety. There was a tape recorder on the table, which you were sure to be useless, knowing there were much more efficient mics wired throughout the room to record sessions. It was a tool used to either intimidate or comfort patients by either turning it on or turning it off. You never bothered with it. Mr. Nashton sat slumped over as per usual, hanging his head. You looked up at you pensively, as if at this point you’d worn him down to become subservient. You picked up your chair and moved it closer to his, placing yourself in proximity to him in order to connect with him better. You were closer than usual, making him tense. 
“So tell me, how are you feeling today, Edward?” you asked in a blank, professional tone. 
“I, uh,” he mumbled, voice hoarse as if this was the first time he’d spoken in days. “I guess it’s as good as it gets for me.” 
“Which would be bad or good?” 
“Probably bad, but I’m not feeling as terrible as usual.” Edward never really looked you in the eyes when talking, but you didn’t take it personally. 
“Why do you think that is?” 
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m relieved that I have a better therapist now,” he says quietly as if he was hoping you wouldn’t hear him. 
“I’m glad you’re satisfied with our sessions, Edward. I can tell you’ve been opening up more,” you smile, but in a way that looks and feels empty, as if you’re a robot with the sole purpose to act in the correct way. 
“I wouldn’t say I’m satisfied,” he grumbles, trying not to sound gracious. “You just aren’t annoying or pushy like the others. And you’re actually nice to me, unlike those other shitty therapists.” 
“What can I do to make you satisfied?” your choice of words shock you as you spit them out mechanically. You feel perverted, despite what you just said being quite innocent. 
“Nothing, probably.”
You sigh, “look, if you let me, I can try and figure out what works for you. Not everyone needs the same type of care. I’ve been meaning to try out a different approach with you, and I need you to tell me if you want to move forward with it.” 
“What is it, exactly?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly apprehensive. 
“It’s quite… unorthodox, but if you trust me with this, I really think it’ll be of benefit to you,” you say as you perfectly mask all feelings of embarrassment behind a neutral expression. 
“Uhuh,” he says, utterly confused. 
“Do you trust that I don’t want to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable?” you ask.
“I suppose. Yeah.” his voice gets small and quiet. 
You take your clipboard, and begin writing. Edward tries to look over at the paper, but before he can get a peak, you already turn it to let him read it. 
“You can’t make a sound for this. They can hear us. I’m going to partially undress you. Nod if you want me to do it”
Edward’s eyes widen before he glares up at you. He swallows thickly. For the first time this session, he looks you in the eyes. He sits motionless before slowly nodding his head. Red tints his face as he begins to sweat. 
You position your chair so that you’re facing him directly. Your hands begin unbuttoning his jumpsuit swiftly, and you notice his chest rising and falling with his breath rapidly. You can see a bit of his pale, bare torso and underwear underneath. Without wasting any time, you pull down his underwear, exposing his penis. It’s already half erect, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering if he always gets aroused around you. You reach into your pocket and retrieve a small bottle of lubricant, and you squeeze some on your hand before gently placing it on his crotch. Your fingers wrap around the shaft, and he gasps. You shush him, before moving your hand in a jerking motion. You don’t dare to look at his face while doing this, because you don’t want any sort of personal attachment linked to it. You just stare at his erection growing in your hand. His body writhes in his seat, arms squirming in their constraints. You hear him whimper softly, which surprises you. He sounds so unexpectedly sweet. Your other hand goes over his mouth, muffling his noises. 
“I need you to take a deep breath.” Your hand stops moving, gripping his hard cock. He’d been breathing so heavily that his glasses were fogging up. He whines against your hand as his body twitches. He relaxes his body a little, calming down. 
“Please, please, please-“ he begs in whispers. This process is torturous. Him being so pent up, it’s impossible to stay quiet. His dick twitches as precum leaks from the tip. You feel almost guilty, but you know it’ll be worth it in the long run. 
“Do you want to stop?”
“Don’t stop, please,” he whines behind your hand. You really hadn’t considered the possibility of him being this vocal. Not only did it put you at risk of being found out, it was causing you to get needlessly sexually excited. You ignored how uncomfortable your soiled underwear had become, you needed to finish the job. 
You tightly held your hand against his mouth as you jerked him off faster. His hips bucked, fucking himself into your fist. So much precum was leaking that it was getting messy. You worried about leaving evidence behind, so you got on your knees in front of him, pushing his legs open, and slipped his dick into your mouth. You lifted your head for a second to whisper, “stay quiet, or I won’t let you finish.” 
He wants to cry as he watches you take him so deep in your throat. He bites his lip tightly, holding back any moans. Your head bobs in perfect rhythm, and your tongue wraps around his shaft. You shamefully bring your hand to your crotch, rubbing yourself over your pants as you greedily suck his cock. What would everyone else think? They’d say I’m a desperate whore. Maybe I am. But I’m helping him. I’m the only one who can. He needs me. Your self degradation doesn’t help your case in this being purely “professional.” It’s not your fault he sounds so cute and pathetic while fucking your throat, or that his huge cock is filling your mouth so much that you can barely take it. You forget about your own voice as his tip hits the back of your throat. His hips begin rutting into you rapidly, and suddenly he’s cumming down your throat. You hear the clanking of his handcuffs as his arms strain against them behind his back. You shove him in as deep as possible, swallowing everything he’s got. You can’t help but finish in your pants, as your other hand has been over stimulating your body. You stay in that position for a minute, letting his dick sit in your mouth. You carefully get up and grab tissues from your pocket to clean him up, as well as wipe your mouth. Carefully, you dress him back up, and place your seat on the opposite side of the table, sitting as if nothing happened. 
“How was that?” you ask, returning to a robotic voice. 
“I wanna do it again,” he says hoarsely, eyes still wide in disbelief.
Part 2
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lilacknights · 2 years
Text
Obey Me Headcanons: What Your Favorite Demon Brother Says About You (but make it too personal)
ALTERNATE TITLE: I judge you based on your favorite brother but I'm not very good at it
CHARACTERS: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor
AUTHOR’S NOTE: As much as I agree with all the other similar headcanons out there, I also want to write my own take on the “what your favorite character says about you” HCs. So I shall be using my very limited knowledge on psychology, personal development, and how to attack people where it hurts.
WARNINGS: (Edited) As the title already states, these HCs might or might not be on a personal level. This is not angst but please read with caution. But please don’t take any of these too seriously. I’m mostly basing on my own analysis of the characters and their representations.
✄ ——————————————————–
LUCIFER:
You’re used to sacrificing. Whether or not you get the recognition for it, you still continue to give and give and give to people.
However, it makes it harder to address your own lack of emotional support because you don’t know how to ask for help.
Do you really favor this character because he’s “dominant” or does it bring you comfort that someone else is taking the lead and you finally get to take a break?
And do you really just want him to eat and sleep well, or are you projecting towards this character as if he was you? Maybe, just maybe, you’re taking care of him the way you would have wanted people to take care of you?
Just in case no one had told you this today: You’re doing great, pal. I promise you won’t lose your value just because you stopped working. You deserve a break, too.
—————————–
MAMMON:
Ah yes, the classic black sheep of the group.
Is it a family thing? Or maybe you’re the forgotten member of your friend group? The one constantly left behind? The one who is only asked out at the last minute because you weren’t really part of the plan and they just needed someone to fill in the spot?
Or maybe you’re the one whose efforts are always thrown under the rug because someone is always better than you.
Like any human being, you have made mistakes throughout your lifetime. Which would be fine if only people would stop focusing on your shortcomings and forgetting about your achievements.
You want to support this man and be there for him when the whole world is against him — because that’s also what you’ve always wanted. To have someone. Someone who would stop looking at you for what you aren’t and start seeing you for what you could be.
—————————–
LEVIATHAN:
Maybe, just maybe, you have a savior complex… but not exactly in a bad way.
It’s more in the “I’ve always felt ashamed of myself but this man doesn’t have to be.” kind of way. This makes you a good person if I do say so myself.
You have your own particular special interest at one or several points of your life but no one ever reciprocated the same excitement you have towards it, making you question whether it was even worth the attention you gave it.
Have you ever had an interest on an instrument, a sport, or maybe something with arts or writing? But because none of those are “real jobs”, you had to let go? Have you been asked something along the lines of “would that be able to pay the bills?” when you tried to introduce an idea to people?
A part of you probably still longs for that encouragement that never came. And so you’re doing it for someone else.
—————————–
SATAN:
How’s the life of the "second best" treating you? /lh
Somewhat similar to those who favor Mammon, you were probably used to having someone else take all the credit for who you are.
Ever had a family member brag about your achievements as if they are the sole reason behind your success? Or maybe you’ve had an older sibling or a senior that everyone thinks is your “inspiration” and it made you feel like your own actions are never your own?
You also probably have a type and that type is a man who does the bare minimum. I don’t know what to tell you but this is most likely the case. (If it’s not, then good for you. /gen)
“He’s not being an asshole towards me and he respects my boundaries and he reads??? Sign me the fuck up.” - You, probably. If I’m wrong, good. But if I’m right, then you and I need to have a proper talk.
—————————–
ASMODEUS:
Your attachment and abandonment issues are showing, bud.
People say that those who favor him are the horny fans but it’s not all there is to it, isn’t it?
Is it possible that you find comfort that this conventionally attractive and well-known individual chose you? Is it possible that, out of all the people he could have had, you’re finally the first choice?
Tell me, how many times were you just an option? How many instances did family, friends or potential lovers didn’t put you first?
Or maybe you’re the introverted little bean in every room that needs someone else to remind you that you’re actually liked. You need that one person to explicitly tell you that “yes, you are wanted.” before your intrusive thoughts take over and make you believe that you’re just a waste of space.
—————————–
BEELZEBUB:
I don’t know what to say except you probably just want to take a break from all the physical, mental, or emotional bullshit going on in your life.
You probably need a hug (preferably against soft tits) and want to live the quiet life with little to no stressors once in a while.
He reminds you of peace and simplicity, and that’s a good thing.
Not sure what you all think but this man is probably the healthiest brother to be biased towards.
I do hope real life for you finally settles down and you get the peace of mind you’ve always wanted. You got this.
—————————–
BELPHEGOR:
Holy shit, you’re fucked up. Are you okay? For real?
Because if Mammon or Satan are kind of the “neglected guy” representation, this one is the forgotten left-in-the-attic version. The difference with this though is that you’ve probably became numb at one point.
Something inside you probably died a long time ago and you just stopped giving a shit. It could be a good thing or a bad thing, mostly depending on your attitude towards it.
You probably weren’t exactly given the biggest responsibilities growing up but, unfortunately, no one expected big things from you because of this — and neither did you.
Also, you’re either a degradee or a degrader. There’s nothing in between. I also believe you’re pretty chill but would be willing to set a building on fire when given enough reason to.
——————————————————– ✄
I haven't written in forever! I do hope you all enjoyed this because I DIDN'T. Asmodeus and Leviathan were basically me attacking myself LMAO — 🌷
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