#unfortunately i have anxiety and low self esteem

[ravensmadreads]

What Love Means

A/N: so remember when I said I wasn't gonna write again? Yea I'm a lying liar who lied.. anyway, this came from me screaming about my unhinged love for David York to @chronically-ghosted , who then once asked me what I thought love meant to David and the thought sent me in a spiral. It's not really so much a fic as it is a stream of my own consciousness. If anyone cares though, there definitely is a whole fic about these two and their backstory.

Warnings: uhhhh bad writing? So David is probably ooc (but this version of him is my comfort character sorry), description of a panic attack, mentions of canon violence, and like the barest hint at smut.

Taglist: @chronically-ghosted (sorry ily) @fuckyeahdindjarin (i know Dave is not really your thing, but it felt wrong not to tag you- feel free to ignore tho no pressure! )

He gasps awake. Panic creeping slowly at the edges of his consciousness until it lunges and swallows him whole. He's not even sure why. The lingering effect of a nightmare he can't remember anymore. Shadowed figures drenched in blood and violence have been a part of him for so long that it's hard to distinguish the memories from the monsters. He bites his lip to stifle a cry. Fists holding tight onto flowered sheets and jaw clenched tight as he tries to remember to breathe. In and out right? It's simple.

His eyes fall shut as he swallows the bile that threatens to choke him. He's well versed in the art of fighting alone. He's been training for years. They've drilled him so hard, for so long, that he can pick an enemy apart in the dark and not make a sound. His fight or flight has been torn down and beaten until the only option he remembers is fight and win. The voices inside him never rest. Never go quiet. The pressure in his chest tightens. Was breathing always this difficult?

And then.

A movement.

He can't make out the sounds, but he knows someone's coming. His heart is pounding. It's inching closer still. Soft, steady footsteps just on the edges of the room. And yet he can't move. Can't open his eyes. Can't breathe. The voice in his head spits venom: Coward. A thud on his nightstand. A dip as the bed shifts and the world tilts a little.

A gasp that he can't hold back; and suddenly his eyes fly open.

Deep laboured breaths. Blurred vision. Every muscle on high alert. There's someone in front of him. He can't move. Fight or flight? A blink. Fight or flight?! Another gasp. Fight, you coward! But he can't move. Fight! He can't breathe. Would it really be so bad if he stopped?

"Dave!"

****

He blinks. There's another voice now. But it's outside the raging in his head. Outside the voices screaming for blood. It's soft. Softer than anything he knows. Anything he deserves. It's you. He can't make out the words but it's enough.

Another gasp.

Another blink.

You.

A lungul of air.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

One more time.

One more time.

One more time.

He's well versed in the art of calming himself down on his own. He doesn't have to though. Not anymore. Not when your arms hold him like he's the most fragile thing in the universe. He'd scoff at the thought if he could breathe.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

He can feel again. The tingling in his skin slowly being replaced by soft warmth. Soft lips on the side of his neck. Gentle hands running through his hair. Fistfuls of cotton fabric in his hands. Strands of your hair on his cheek.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Strawberry scented shampoo. Vanilla bean candles from the corner of the night stand. Something inexplicable that he can never name but that he knows is undeniably you.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Whispered assurances in his ear. The gentle hum of the air con. The rain pattering on the window and the wind that's slowly settling down now.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Metal in his mouth because he bit his tongue trying not to scream. The aftertaste of the last cigarette he had before bed.

Inhale.

He can't open his eyes. What if this is the dream? What if he wakes up alone again? Fingers clutching tighter. Nails digging into skin. You feel solid. Warm. Present.

Hold.

His eyes blink open. Starry glow from the nightlight you've turned on. The pulse pounding steadily in your neck. The birthmark in the hollow of your neck.

Exhale.

Is this what relief feels like? What safety means to him now? Does he even deserve a taste of either after all that he has done?

He blinks, and it's you. It's all you. He's surrounded by you. Your scent, your walls, your colours, your skin, your presence. The one holding his hand. The voice in his head. Talking him out of the terror. Walking him out of the darkness. It's you. But then again, it has been you since the moment he fell off of that cliff. The only fragment of his life that remains. The only thing from before that he can hold on to.

Your hands cup his face, and he smiles. It's a small thing. Twists into a grimace far too quickly. He opens his mouth to apologize. For all that he is, all that he can never be, and all the horrors he darkens your doorstep with. For all his scars and all his pain. Even if he does deserve every single one of the demons wreaking havoc in his head and trying to tear him apart from the inside.

But you know him too well. Know what he's thinking. And you're already shushing him before the words can even form on his tongue. Pressing gentle kisses over his forehead. A warm smile and soft eyes staring back at him. He has never known quite what it is you see in him. Has tried to convince you of the monster that resides within, but you refuse to acknowledge his self flagellation anymore.

He grabs you tighter and starts to lie back down. Your heart beat against his racing one. Your arms around his neck. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Maybe he can pretend. Just for a minute. That he's someone worth saving. That he's someone worth loving? He falls before he can finish the thought.

****

He wakes up in your arms. It startles him. The normalcy. The state of nothing. He's not used to silence. Not the comfortable kind anyway. If ever there's silence with him around, it either beckons death or follows it. And he's been drilled in the art of war for as long as he can remember.

He's not entirely sure what to do now. With hands on soft skin. A quiet mind. Who is he when the sun comes up? In the gentle breeze of dawn? When there's no list of names waiting to be scratched off; and when the sun filtering through the curtains chases away any shadows where monsters like him may lurk. When your breath tickles his neck and he can wake you with gentle hands and small kisses.

"Hey." A hand through his hair. "You okay?"

Trust you to start worrying about him the minute you wake up. He smiles, and it's a genuine one this time. The muscles in his face ache from disuse. He's been smiling more and more now, even if it feels unreal, like a skin he's trying to put on. You've been relentless in chasing them out anyway, and he's still surprised every time he finds a reason to smile.

He doesn't really remember what happiness feels like anymore. Small echoes of it maybe. From a distant past. Of army buddies laughing in the trenches, two little girls giggling around him, a leader that felt like an anchor and a mentor who felt like family- now all gone; too quickly, too violently - he shakes his head. It doesn't matter anymore. You're all the reason he needs now.

****

There's a word on the tip of his tongue. It lingers there. Quiet. Subtle. Just a little bit out of reach. It comes to him in the quiet moments. When your hand is in his hand, your head on his chest. When you listen to music and he pretends that he's not watching the dimple in your cheek. When you sway as you cook a meal and he forgets to remember that he's forgotten how to smile.

It comes to him in other moments. When he's on top of you, surrounding you, clinging to you. When your eyes are on his, your nails leaving delicious marks on his back. When your hands pull his hair and the only word you speak is a quiet and reverent David. He has always hated his name, but he's learning to crave the way you say it when you're overwhelmed by him.

It comes to him in the afterglow. Lingers on the edge of his consciousness. With your hand over his heart, his arms wrapped tight around you and his lips on yours. He's sinking into sleep. The warm embrace doesn't scare him any longer because no monsters in his head could never win against the light in your soul. He reaches out to hold it, that word, the one word he never had, just as his eyes flutter shut. He smiles into the kiss. He'll tell you tomorrow. You'll understand. You probably already know. You're the reason that word exists after all. And he knows you'll keep it for him until the day he dies.

Safe.

[lapsthings]

I flunked my math paper again so here's how I think the blue glockers will do in ascending order (no glaze)

0-49%

Zantetsu Tsurugi 🤓

Sad thing is, he genuinely tried. He really gave it his all, immersing himself in study materials for the past week to ensure he was fully prepared. You could find him studying anywhere—whether in the cafeteria, passing through the halls, or even coming out of the toilet. He went to bed the night before confidently, walked into the exam hall confidently, sat down confidently, and handed in his paper confidently. When he received his paper back, he thought the big fat zero on the front meant he made zero mistakes

Igaguri Gurimu 🤡

Whines about studying, but ends up doing it because his parents forced him to. He grumbles as he picks up his book, pumps himself up for a motivational boost, but gives up after skimming the first page. Has the audacity to complain when he gets a failing grade

Gagamaru Gin 🐨

He lives in the forest, so Goatmaru was probably never exposed to the concept of education

Just kidding, surprisingly he does go to school, but my point still stands

Don Lorenzo 🧟

Sorry, bro grew up on the streets, he never went to school 💀. He picked up some basic numeracy from Snuffy, but that’s about it. Couldn’t care less though—you don't need to know about angles to count your cash, okay?

Raichi Jingo 💥

He forgot there was a test but somehow believes he can wing it. His overconfidence is bound to crash and burn when he gets his results back

Bachira Meguru 🐝

He casually picked up his textbook, flipped through all the pages, and called it a day

Charles Chevalier 😝

If someone doesn't specifically tell him to not study, he won’t even bother. Pretends to look up how to solve equations on YouTube, but he's really just watching Skibidi Toilet

Otoya Eita 🥷

He’s got the potential to do well, but he’s too busy having fun with girls. Stealthy enough to copy off someone without the invigilator noticing, but gets caught anyway because he forgot to change up his workings

Kunigami Rensuke 🏋️ (post-wildcard)

He does not care 😭

Nanase Nijiro 😇

He gave his all in hopes of passing, but despite his best efforts, he fell short by a few marks :(

50-69%

Kiyora Jin 🍇🍬

He only puts in the bare minimum effort, so he barely makes the cut. Always hovering on the borderline between success and failure

Sendou Shuto 🩷

Goes like “Heh, I didn’t even study,” but the truth is he crammed everything the night before. Manages to pass though, good for him

Tokimitsu Aoshi 💪

He’s plagued by self-deprecating thoughts before, during, and after the exam. He's slightly more confident since his favorite subject is math, however his low self-esteem causes him to overthink, continuously changing his answers. Even after finishing, he’s constantly rechecking everything to avoid careless mistakes. Overwhelmed by anxiety when he gets his paper back, but lights up when he sees he got a decent grade

Aryu Jyubei ✨

He often stares at his study materials, but rarely does more than that. Instead of panicking about how under prepared he is, he’s too busy stressing over a big fat pimple on his forehead. Still ends up with a C…so not glam

70-79%

Niko Ikki 👀

He’d rather play Yu-Gi-Oh, but knows when to prioritize. He only puts in minimal effort, yet manages to get through because he’s a chad

Kurona Ranze 🦈

He sticks to recommended study methods and puts in the necessary effort, but still struggles with some concepts, resulting in a lower grade

Kunigami Rensuke 🏋️ (pre-wildcard)

He actually studies, even reaching out to others for help when he’s stuck. Unfortunately, he forgot to double-check his work and ended up with a lot of careless mistakes

Shidou Ryusei 😈

Huh? How did he end up here?

Hiori Yo 🎮

He doesn’t invest much time in studying, usually too busy being a #gamer. Despite this, he pays enough attention in class to get a good grade

Chigiri Hyoma 🐆💗

He pays attention in class and only studies to cover what he didn’t understand during lessons. Confident in his abilities, he doesn’t spend much time preparing for exams

80-100%

Oliver Aiku 🐍

Believe it or not, he actively listens in class and is disciplined when an exam is coming up. Very chill during the test, but instead of checking his work, he’s checking out girls

Alexis Ness 🪄

You cannot tell me he’s not a teacher's pet. He pays attention in class, completes his work diligently, and can be found in the library during lunch. He has a very organized study plan, so he avoids careless mistakes

Michael Kaiser 🌹💙

He’s smart enough to decipher complex formulas, dissecting problems before arriving at solutions using his own understanding. He truly is the goat

Yukimiya Kenyu 📸

Quite literally a model student. He’s a bit like Ness, but he also participates in group studies

Barou Shouei 👑

Of course, he gets good grades—he’s the king, after all, and he doesn’t settle for anything less. When asked about his study methods, or if he actually studies, he just tells them to piss off and walks away

Isagi Yoichi 🧩

He actually studies every day for about 30 minutes. He knows the key to math is consistent practice. Politely declines any invitations to hang out until exams are over

Nagi Seishiro 💤

Bro, how? He doesn’t study, sleeps in class, never does his homework. I guess he’s just cool like that

Karasu Tabito 🐦‍⬛♥️👑

Oh, Karasu, my beautiful, beautiful…

He’s an accomplished, well-rounded student who excels in every subject, including math, thanks to his determination to avoid mediocrity. His motivation and serious approach to his studies fuel his academic success

Rin Itoshi ⚽

Rin’s academic prowess is evident as he effortlessly becomes the top of his class. His intellect allows him to grasp concepts easily with minimal effort

Sae Itoshi 😐

Like his brother, his academic success comes naturally to him—barely puts in work, barely breaks a sweat. I think it runs in the family

Reo Mikage 💳

You'd think he hired professional tutors, but he doesn't — he’s just that amazing

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 5

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, panic attack, blood, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: I’ve been so excited to share this one, I may have gotten a wee bit carried away, though

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You try not to make your displeasure obvious as you scowl at your reflection in the full-length mirror; fighting the urge to tug at the neckline of the black dress currently hugging every inch of your body. “This is too much, it has to be.” You complain and Josie gives you a sharp look from where she’s smoothing the bottom of the dress.

“Oh sweetie, if you think this is too much, they’re going to eat you alive.”

“They?”

“Javy’s little fan club,” she says, giving you a knowing look before grimacing. You match the gesture, trying once again to reconcile with your reflection in the mirror. You don’t look like yourself. That much is clear. Your hair is down and Josie’s pinned back sections in some style that she promises will flatter your face but you don’t quite see it. You fight another grimace as you glance at your chest. The dress is low cut, perhaps not enough to be truly risqué but you tend to favor higher, more modest necklines. Still, you’ve never had your breasts on display like this and it takes all your self-control not to cover your chest. You remind yourself that you’re not you tonight. Tonight you’re a pawn in a game, a commodity that’s being traded in exchange for keeping your job. You take a shaky breath as you glance at your painted face. It’s caked in makeup much thicker than you normally wear. Your lips are painted a sinful ruby red that makes you feel more dirty than beautiful. Your nails are painted to match and you grip your wrist tightly to keep from picking at the fresh paint.

“Hey,” you’re torn from your self-scrutiny by Josie and she’s looking at you, concerned. “Roadie, are you okay?” Her voice is a lot softer and you’re about to ask why she’s so concerned when you catch the sparkle of unshed tears in your eyes in the mirror. You swallow hard, willing them away before they ruin your makeup that Josie’s worked so hard on. You nod, not trusting your voice as you feel a lump form in your throat. “Hey, hey it’s okay,” Josie stands up then and pulls you into a hug. “I know it’s hard, sweetie, I know.” She rubs soothing circles into your back as you tremble in her arms before she speaks up, voice thick with regret. “I hate that you’re so unhappy. I’m so sorry I even suggested this.” You shake your head against her shoulder.

“I-it was my choice. You didn’t force me to do anything.” You take a shaking breath and hate how wet it feels as you feel a pressure in your nose as the tears rise unbidden to your eyes again. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep them in and picture your class. Your students that you love so much. This is for them. You can do this. “I can do this.” You say and while your voice still shakes you feel Josie squeeze you in solidarity.

She pulls back to look at you, a sad smile on her face. “Tell you what? Get through this and we’ll have a girls' night this weekend. Just stay in, hang out on the couch, and watch a movie in our pajamas.” You give her a weak smile at the thought of that. You’d do anything to be in your pajamas right now. You heave a sigh, avoiding your reflection in the mirror as you head for the door.

***

You regret everything. Sure, the dress makes you feel exposed. Sure, the makeup makes you feel cheap. But none of those are even close to the horror show that’s proving to be these heels. You wobble across the lobby of Javy’s apartment building, terror keeping you in its clutches as you stumble to the nearest chair. You dig your freshly manicured into the back, struggling to rearrange your ankles into an upright position.

“Roadie?” You look up from where you’re glaring holes into the back of the chair to see Javy staring at you with concern. You give him a lopsided smile as you do your best to right yourself. “You look beautiful,” he says and you feel your cheeks heat at the offhand compliment as you try to wipe your sweaty palms off on the dress that’s not an absorbent material at all. You straighten to the best of your ability and head towards him, shoes forgotten and the sudden movement combined with the deathtraps on your feet immediately throws you off balance and you stumble with a squeak of surprise. Warm hands wrap around your bare arms, righting you and you find yourself face to face with warm brown eyes as you instinctively brace your hands against Javy’s broad chest. Your lips are barely a breath away from his and his eyes are as wide as yours. You feel his body heat radiating off his skin and warming you to your very bones.

“Hi,” you breathe the words against his mouth and you’re not sure if you hallucinate the way his gaze flicks to your full red lips, parted in surprise.

“Hi,” he breathes back and you swallow, sucking in the air he’s released like it’s a lifeline, the only thing keeping you upright. You’re instantly aware of his hands on your arms and you stumble backward, his hands not moving an inch as you feel them strain against you as he carefully helps you balance on your heels. You glare down at the traitorous footwear and you hear Javy chuckle softly and it coaxes your gaze to his. He squeezes your arms in his grip gently, a playful smile on his lips even as his eyes betray his concern. “Meep, what on earth are you doing in those shoes?” You scowl at him even as your heart hammers against your ribs.

“Josie insisted on them,” you grumble before muttering under your breath, “even if I can’t walk five steps in them.”

“Does Josie have some vested interest in you spraining an ankle that I should know about?” He asks as he loosens his grip on you, hands still hovering above your skin in case he needs to intervene again. You realize then that your hands are fisted in the silky fabric of his dress shirt and you loosen them, cheeks heating as you tentatively release the material, shifting your weight back to your feet.

“Not that I know of, but I can ask,” you answer, rambling as you focus on staying upright. Your legs wobble like a baby deer and Javy regards you thoughtfully before he shifts, removing his hands from your arms before offering you one of his.

“Here, hold onto me, I’ll help keep you balanced.” You hesitate before linking your arm with his and he pulls you close, tucking you into his side and practically holding you up against him.

“Oh,” you whisper in surprise and he chuckles at your reaction.

“I’ve got you, Roadie.” He says and you’re surprised to find that you believe him. You let him lead you across the lobby and you find that your legs don’t shake nearly as much with him to support you.

When you get to the doors an attendant is waiting with a fancy sports car idling in the drive. Javy takes the keys from him and you try your best to ignore the way his gaze brazenly moves over you, his eyes feeling almost greasy in the way they linger on various parts of your body. You feel dirty and you haven’t even done anything. Nausea churns your stomach and you’re struggling to fight it down when Javy’s firm voice cuts through your thoughts. “Jonathan, if you don’t get your filthy eyes off my girlfriend, I know plenty of people that would kill for your job.” His voice is full of barely-concealed rage but it doesn’t frighten you. You feel gratitude fill your veins as Jonathan sputters, face going crimson as he averts his gaze, chagrined. He murmurs a half-hearted apology to Javy but Javy shakes his head. “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.” He dips his chin towards you.

Jonathan’s face somehow manages to go even more red as he turns to face you, gaze darting everywhere but your face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.” You’re too shaken to do more than nod in acknowledgment and then Javy’s leading you around to the passenger side of the sleek black sports car. He helps you in before going back around to the driver's seat.

The two of you fall silent as he pulls out of the driveway of the apartment building and you shift in the low seat of the sports car. Javy’s grip on the wheel is as firm as the line that his lips are pressed in. You’re rearranging the unfamiliar fabric of your dress when you unconsciously give into your earlier temptation to tug at the neckline of your dress, willing the fabric to magically stretch to cover the exposed skin at the top of your chest that makes your stomach twist in knots. When the car stops at a red light, Javy slides his suit jacket off and then tosses it gently into your lap and you blink at him, surprised. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road but you guess he feels the weight of your stare.

“You can cover up if you want to.” He explains and you feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment. You take the jacket and fight the shame warring with your discomfort as you slide the jacket over your shoulders. It’s big, fair enough considering how broad Javy’s shoulders are but that’s lost on you as you’re suddenly enveloped by the heady scent of his cologne. The sharp, spicy notes cut through the musk and tickle your nose.

“Doesn’t this ruin the whole point of the dress?” You say after what you’re sure has been way too long as you come back to your senses.

Javy’s brow furrows, his fingers tightening on the wheel, angry at something you can’t see. “I would argue it sells the whole ruse even more. There’s nothing more intimate than my girl wearing my jacket.” You suppress the need to point out that you’re sure that there are plenty of things more intimate than that but you suppose he’s right and you do feel more comfortable now that you’re safely covered by the fabric.

***

Javy has half a mind to throttle Josie Fitch the next time he sees her. He sneaks a look at you when he stops at the next light. You seem content in the silence that stretches between the two of you and if he’s honest it’s the most relaxed that he’s seen you all day and he selfishly wants to let that last as long as possible. What was Josie thinking dressing you up like that? Sure, you look beautiful. He tries not to think too hard about the way you’d knocked the breath clear from his lungs when he first saw you in the lobby. There’s nothing indecent about the dress, it’s elegant and perfect for the restaurant he’s picked out for tonight. It hugs your curves perfectly, and he can’t help but feel his mouth go dry at the memory of the way the neckline accentuates your breasts, teasing him with just the skin at the tops and a peek at your cleavage. Your makeup just serves to underscore your natural beauty but the bold red lip is a little much.

None of that matters, though, when he can see how clearly uncomfortable you are. You look like an innocent lamb trussed up for slaughter. It makes rage run cold through his veins. The point of dressing up like this should be to bolster your confidence not tear it to shreds and his heart clenches as he sees you squirm, uncomfortable in your own skin. You’re naturally skittish and nervous but this is different. Even when you’ve picked at the hem of your blouses or dresses in the past it was more of a nervous tick, a side effect of being forced to exist. This is different. What was Josie thinking, suggesting this? He manages to fight down his anger, not wanting it to seep into his words for you to misconstrue before he speaks.

“Roadie,” he says, choosing his words carefully, and out of the corner of his eye he sees you turn to him. “I think you should get some new dresses. Some that YOU’RE comfortable in.” He chances a glance at you and you're staring at him, perfect lips parted in soft surprise that matches your wide eyes. He fights the urge to smile. It’s his favorite look on you and it makes him want to pull the car over and kiss it off you. The car behind him honks, jolting him back to the present and he collects his thoughts. “Nat could go with you if you want? She’s been hounding me about getting to spend some time with you. I promise you she’s not pushy.” You’re silent for a moment before you finally speak up.

“That would be nice,” he hears you hesitate and waits patiently for you to continue. “Are you sure it’s okay?” He’s about to ask you to clarify but you continue. “I mean aren’t I supposed to dress a certain way?” He feels his stomach twist with rage and disgust.

“Meep, you never have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.” He fights to keep his voice even. “You’re my fake girlfriend, not a doll.”

***

You wonder if you’re imagining the way Javy is vehemently defending your sense of comfort. All that disappears, though, when the words “fake girlfriend” pass his lips. It’s like he’s doused you with a bucket of ice water. You stiffen as you remember why you’re really here. Javy sweetness mixed with the headiness from being ensconced in his jacket and scent almost had you forgetting that this is just an elaborate act. When you get to the restaurant there’ll be a crowd of reporters that Zam sent anonymous tips, waiting to capture exclusive photos of you and Javy. You’re just here to play a part. You have to smile, pretend to hide from the cameras, and seem absolutely completely in love with Javy Machado. All in a good night’s work, right?

You realize that Javy’s waiting for you to answer but the moment is broken and you’re back down in reality. You heave a heavy sigh. “As nice as that is, I can’t exactly afford to get a whole new wardrobe right now, especially the kind of clothes I need for these sorts of events.” You’re on a teacher’s salary after all, and you spend any extra money on your art.

Javy doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s fair, I’ll pay for them.” Your jaw drops and your eyes bug out of your head. “Call it a part of the agreement. It’s not your fault that your demands don’t come with a dress code so I’ll take care of the clothes and whatever else you need. I’ll give Nat my credit card.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you stammer, still wrapping your head around his cavalier attitude towards this whole situation.

“You didn’t. I offered.”

“Well, I don’t accept!” You squawk indignantly.

“I wasn’t asking, Beautiful.” Your argument is cut short as Javy pulls up to the valet booth of the restaurant and you glance out the window at the soft mood lighting glinting out the windows of the impressive-looking building.

He folds himself out of the car that’s honestly too small for a hockey player but you have a feeling size didn’t factor much into the purchasing decision. Your door clicks open and Javy holds out his hand to you. You make sure to swing your legs out first and plant them firmly before you give Javy your hand and let him pull you to your feet. He links your arm in his immediately, steadying you as he guides you around the car. His body is shielding yours at first so you don’t notice them but then the flashing of lenses almost blinds you as the press that’s been camped waiting for the two of you start to cross the small space to the door of the restaurant. You curl instinctively away from the cameras and into Javy and he just pulls you close. You almost miss the quick tap of his fingers against your wrist before he presses his lips to the top of your head. You feel warmth spread through your body from the point of contact and you suppress a shudder.

Javy doesn’t seem keen on pandering to the press beyond your presence and the chaste kiss and he ushers you through the door of the restaurant. The inside is warm and elegant and you’re suddenly glad that you’re dressed like you are. The hostess guides the two of you across the dining room and Javy politely asks that she not seat the two of you by any windows and you feel a rush of gratitude at his thoughtfulness even if it feels counterproductive to the goal of the night. Javy pulls out your chair for you and you take a seat, pulling Javy’s jacket tighter around your shoulders in the cool air of the restaurant. You busy yourself with the money to distract from the nerves gnawing at your stomach.

“It’s just dinner.” You look up when Javy speaks up. He’s gazing at you over the top of his menu. “Just think about it that way. It’s just dinner. I’m not asking you to sit in my lap and feed me chocolate cake. We’re just two people getting dinner.” Despite your skepticism, you can feel Javy’s voice somehow easing your anxiety. “Oh but I do have one request," he says and you flick your eyes back up to his, a question hidden in them and he gives you a firm look. “Order whatever you want. There’s no one in here that you have to prove anything to.” You feel your cheeks heat and you’re saved from having to answer by a waitress coming to take your drink order. Javy greets her before turning back to you. “What kind of wine do you like? Or do you prefer cocktails?”

You squirm uncomfortably as you ponder the words you need to say. Glancing at the prices on the drink menu solidifies your resolve, however. “I, uh, I don’t drink.” You murmur, not taking your eyes off Javy as you manage to get the words out. To his credit, Javy just nods before ordering water for both of you. “You didn’t have to do that,” you blurt once the waitress has made her way back to the kitchen. “I don’t mind if you drink, you don’t have to have water for my sake.” Javy just arches an eyebrow at you as he arranges his napkin in his lap.

“Meep, I’m driving. I wasn’t planning to drink.” You feel your cheeks heat.

“Oh, right.” You stammer lamely and he gives you a soft smile.

“But thanks for letting me know you don’t drink.” He says and you cock your head to the side, confused. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally make you uncomfortable by ordering you something you’re not going to be comfortable drinking.”

“Well that and it definitely saves money.” You remark before your cheeks heat more as you realize the man across from you is in a completely different tax bracket than you. “Sorry, I just, uh, I forgot.”

Javy gives you a casual shrug. “I wasn’t born into this, Beautiful, believe it or not, I do remember what money means.”

“Oh,” you stammer, embarrassed all over again.

“After my first year in the NHL, I bought my mom a new house,” he says and the smile on his face is wistful and you can see he’s lost in the memory. “She gave up a lot for me to be able to play hockey. It’s an expensive sport that we didn’t necessarily have the money to be able to afford, but she found a way to make it work. I wanted to be able to thank her for that. It’s not always the case with sports, you know? That the investment pays off. I just got lucky enough that I got to go from being the most expensive kid in my family to being the one who can take care of everyone else. It feels good, like it wasn’t all for nothing, you know?” You nod along, content to listen to Javy talk. Everything he’s saying feels genuine and you can’t help the curiosity that tickles your brain.

“You said you’re from Louisiana, right?” Javy nods. “How’d you start playing hockey then?” He chuckles at that.

“Hockey’s not the most welcome sport in Louisiana, that’s true. There’s only one minor league that’s still holding on these days, but back when I was growing up there were a few and my uncle took me and my sisters to a game once when we visited him for the weekend. I fell in love with the sport instantly, much to my mom’s disappointment. My uncle, though, saw how excited I was about it so he started to take me to the mall to skate and then he found local rinks that had open skates, and he kept taking me to games. He would go to the library and read books and watch old games to try to figure out how he could train me without having to pay for lessons. I guess it worked because then he helped my mom get me into a tryout for some fancy middle school that had a hockey team and I got in on a hockey scholarship. Once I had my foot in the door I didn’t want to lose my chance. Thankfully I was able to use gear provided by the school for a while but once I got to high school I got odd jobs so I could afford the gear I needed to play. All the other guys on my team all had second rec leagues that they played for outside school on top of the school teams but that’s all I had so I put all my effort in there, hoping I’d get scouted to play in college. I got a scouting offer from the University of Arizona my senior year of high school and ended up going there on a full-ride and now I’m here.” He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without my mom and uncle. I’ll always be thankful for what they did for me.”

“You’re still close with them, then?” You ask and his expression clouds. “My uncle passed away from cancer when I was in college. He never married, never had kids of his own.”

“Javy, I'm so sorry.” You swallow hard, but you’re interrupted by the waitress coming back to take your orders. You take a long sip of your water while Javy orders before you order without looking at the menu. You’d been committing it to memory all afternoon since Javy texted you the name and you immediately checked out the menu online. Once the waitress retreats again you speak. “Do you miss him?” You ask tentatively.

He nods. “He was the closest thing I had to a dad. Mine was never in the picture. Neither my mom nor my uncle ever talked about him either so I just stopped asking. Plus, I had my uncle and that was enough. I just wish he’d been able to see me make it, you know? I would have loved to have him there at the draft and then at my first NHL game. He gives you a wistful smile as he sips his water. But I’m still close with my mom and my sisters, so I’m grateful to have that.” You nod in understanding.

“Do they live here or are they back in Louisiana?”

“They’re back in New Orleans, but I try to get back home to them in the off-season and they come to visit sometimes during the season. Sometimes they’ll come to the away games in Dallas with Jake’s folks.

“You and Jake are close, right? I saw the photo of you guys in college.” You clarify. Javy’s face lights up and it makes you pause and you watch the joy and fondness fill his eyes.

“He’s my best friend,” Javy says with a laugh. “We were teammates and roommates in college. He’s basically my brother at this point.”

“Have you been on the same teams since then?” You ask and Javy shakes his head, a melancholy smile twisting his lips.

“We were at first, we both got drafted to the Coyotes and everything was perfect. Sure it's nerve-wracking to finally be in the NHL and playing at a professional level but it never felt that way with Jake there. It felt like we were still in college like nothing had changed at all, and that was good for our game, you know? We played like it was natural because it really felt like it was. Jake’s always been the star, though,” you see sadness creep into his eyes and your heart aches in response. “He was improving at an insane rate, and people could tell. Jake’s a natural leader, though, and he was always trying to pull me up to his level. It’s what makes him such a good captain. And then he outgrew us, and got traded to Dallas.” Javy shakes his head. “I never blamed him for taking his shot. Professional hockey takes a lot out of you and without a good support system it can crush you if you’re not careful. Jake got the chance to go home, or as close as he could get to it, and man if I could have a chance like that I probably would have gone too.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.” You say and he turns to you like he’s just remembered you’re there.

“It doesn’t,” he says, trailing off. It’s quiet between the two of you for a long moment before he speaks again. “Eventually I got traded to, and I went to San Jose and it wasn’t terrible. I dragged Nat out to California with me and we had our fun. But when I got the offer to come to San Diego, to start something new, it felt like it was time to go.”

“And you’d get to play with Jake again,” you pipe up and Javy laughs before shaking his head.

“I had no idea Jake was coming to San Diego when I signed the contract.” You blink, surprised. Your brow furrows in confusion.

“So Jake followed you?” Javy has a sad look in his eyes as he shakes his head again.

“Not quite that either.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I forgot.” Your brow furrows in confusion. “That you don’t know everything.” He clarifies. “Most of it is public knowledge at this point so I just assume everyone knows already.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, trying again to smooth your sweaty palms over the nonabsorbent fabric of your dress and then settling for playing with your fingers.

“No, no you don’t have to apologize.” He waves you off with a firm shake of his head. “It’s nice, not having someone know every single thing about me before I tell them. I think I forgot what that’s like.”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks heat as the waitress arrives with your food.

***

Dinner passes without incident and you slowly feel yourself getting used to Javy. He seems to be content doing most of the talking and you’re content to listen. The food is delicious and about halfway through the meal a jazz band strikes up some soft music providing a cozy backdrop. You notice Javy tapping his toes under the table. “Do you like jazz?” You ask.

“Beautiful, I’m from New Orleans, I LOVE jazz. More than love, it’s in my blood, mon amour.” You flush under the terms of endearment that normally you’d blame on alcohol except for the fact that Javy’s continued to join you by drinking water all night.

“I didn’t want to assume,” you whisper and he smiles, widely.

“Well, you assumed correctly. Come. Dance with me, Beautiful.” Javy extends his hand to you and your eyes go wide like a deer in the headlights.

“I-I can’t,” you stammer and Javy shakes his head, insistent. “Javy there’s no one else dancing,” you insist, glancing around the room at the other groups dining around you. Sure there’s a small space in front of the band that could serve as a dance floor if necessary but no one seems keen on utilizing it.

“Come on, Beautiful. Dance with me.” Javy says again, standing from the table and your eyes widen in terror.

“I told you, Javy, I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I can’t in these shoes.”

“So take them off,” you give him a look of pure horror.

“Javy, PLEASE. Please don’t make me.” You beg, terror gripping your nerves and you see something you can’t identify pass across Javy’s face before he nods and stands up straight.

“I’ll let you off the hook tonight, Beautiful, but I’ll get you to dance with me yet.” With that, he turns away from the table and your heart sinks in fear. Is he leaving? Without you? Certainly not, he hasn’t paid the bill yet. You reach out without thinking but Javy’s already moving across the room over to where the band is playing. You see him lean over to speak with them before he slips one of the microphones arranged around the musicians out of its stand and moves into the center of the would-be dance floor as the band starts playing again.

“I'm just a gigolo. Everywhere I go, people know the part I'm playing.” Javy begins to croon into the microphone and you notice a few patrons look up from their dinner as your face flushes even hotter. He’s not a bad singer, rough and unrefined but it suits the light jazz tune. “Paid for every dance, selling each romance. Oh, what they're saying. There will come day when youth will pass away. What will they say about me? When the end comes I know, they'll say just a gigolo. Life goes on without me.”

Your face heats as you process the words he’s singing. His expression is part sultry and part fun as he delivers the words.

After he repeats the verse he’s just sung the tune starts to pick up. “'Cause I ain't got nobody. Nobody cares for me. 'Cause nobody cares for me. I'm so sad and lonely. Sad and lonely, sad and lonely. Won't some sweet mama come and take a chance with me? 'Cause I ain't so bad.” He scats slightly as he sings and you can’t help the way your lips part slightly in surprised admiration. He reaches a hand in your direction, urging you to join him as the music transitions into a more instrumental section. The jazz is in full swing now and you feel the music as well as Javy calling to you in a way you’ve never experienced before. The sad lyrics contrasted with the upbeat tune fill your heart with a familiar melancholy that’s usually reserved for quiet nights alone spent working on your art and you think maybe that’s what makes you stand on wobbly feet and carefully make your way to where Javy’s swaying with the microphone and crooning and scatting into it. His eyes light up when he sees you coming and makes sure to meet you at the edge of the dance floor before gently taking your weight off your unsteady feet as he eases you into his arms.

He’s ditched the microphone at some point and a member of the band has taken up the vocals but he croons the words into your ear as he gently sways with you. He makes sure to keep the steps simple enough for you to keep up in your heels. Suddenly you’re at your senior prom all over again, in Andrew’s arms instead of Javy’s and then you’re tripping over your feet as your daydream bursts and you're grabbing at Javy’s silky shirt for purchase as his arms shift to keep you from falling.

“Easy, Meep, you okay?” He says and you see him searching your face. You nod, not trusting your voice until you clear your throat.

“I think I’m all danced out.” You whisper and he nods, gently guiding you back to the table where a giant slice of chocolate cake is waiting for the two of you.

“Here, Meep, eat some cake.” He says as he pulls out your chair for you. You nod absently, and while on any other day, you’d probably have loved the decadent desert but it tastes like dirt in your mouth as try to finish it quickly. “Meep, are you okay?” You don’t answer as you try not to empty your entire water glass in one go. “Roadie,” Javy says, reaching a hand out to touch your arm but you flinch away from the touch and he instantly pulls away, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“I’m sorry, I just. I’m not feeling very well. I think I’m ready to go home.” You whisper, head down and eyes focussed on your worrying hands.

“Okay. Okay, let’s get you home then.” You hear Javy flag down the waitress and pay the bill before he’s gently pulling your chair out and helping you to your feet, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders. “Meep,” he whispers to you as the two of you make your way to the door. “There’s going to be paparazzi outside, I’ll do the best to get us through there as fast as possible but I want you to have a heads up. I’m going to kiss you so they can get their shot and get out of our way, okay?” You nod, numbly, struggling considerably to plaster what you hope is an amorous smile on your face.

Javy doesn’t look convinced but he tucks you into his side nonetheless. Even Javy’s warning doesn’t fully prepare you for the onslaught of flashing lights when you exit the restaurant and you curl into Javy and he pulls you closer in response. He guides you to the car that’s been pulled up and he opens the door, tapping your wrist three times quickly before he kisses you. You’re still not entirely used to the feeling of kissing him but the door bumps your leg and you stumble. You throw your arms around Javy’s neck to catch yourself accidentally deepening the kiss and Javy slides a warm hand to hold your back against him before he pulls away, a concerned look in his eyes as he helps you fold yourself into the cramped interior of the car.

You tug Javy’s jacket further around you as you wait for Javy to come around to the driver’s side, trying to fold into yourself but as you tug the fabric closer, the scent of his cologne floods your nose, but this time it feels like a smokey snake, forcing itself down your throat and choking you. You shove it away, pushing the fabric down your shoulders as the night air chills your skin, urging you to pull the jacket back up. Instead, you wrap your arms around yourself as Javy opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat. Your eyes are locked on the console in front of you as you will the drive to be over as you hear the rumble of the engine coming to life.

“Meep?” You hear Javy calling out to you, concern in his voice as he pulls away from the restaurant. You don’t answer as you climb deeper into yourself. “Roadie?” His voice calls again but it sounds farther away this time. You still don’t answer, tugging on your arms, trying to get smaller and smaller as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to escape the moving car. You don’t realize the car has stopped until you feel the hands on your arms. Javy’s calling your name but you don’t answer. He must lean closer because your throat is once again violated by the scent of his cologne and you’re moving on instinct as you shove him away. You’re moving like you’re fighting through water as you shove at the seatbelt and fumble with the door to the car as you struggle to get out.

As the night air whips your hair around, you stumble, colliding with a cement partition. The salty air is like a shock to your system and your eyes shoot open as you come face to face with the blackness of the ocean. Your hands shoot forward to grab the partition before you can topple over it and you sink to the asphalt as the adrenaline leaves your body like it's been punched out alongside your breath. You don’t register Javy calling for you until he’s crouched in front of you, your terror reflected in his eyes, his hands shaking in time with yours as they cup your cheeks, searching your face. The world comes back into focus and you hear the rush of cars mere feet away on the highway as you realize Javy’s parked on the shoulder.

“Hey, hey, Roadie you okay?” Javy’s voice is shaking along with the rest of him. You nod, or at least you try to. Before you can stop him, he’s pulling you against him and you can feel the thunder of his heart through your chests pressed together. He releases you as quickly as he hugs you like it’s the product of an instinct he couldn’t suppress and then he’s taking more measured yet still shaky breaths.

“Javy?” you don’t recognize the voice that comes out of your mouth. He looks up and his deep brown eyes bore into you with a kind of cautious curiosity. “Can you take me home, please?” That seems to sober him up and he stands, offering you a hand to pull you up after him. You take it after pausing to fumble with your outfit for a moment. When you stand on your feet, you feel more stable than you have all night. Javy starts to lead you back to the car but you pause, turning back to the roiling ocean behind you and you toss the heels over the edge of the partition. The asphalt is rough under your feet but you feel grounded.

***

Javy can’t help the pride that slips onto his face as he watches you toss Josie Fitch’s overpriced deathtraps over the edge of the highway, down into the ocean below. His heart stopped when you’d practically dashed out of the parked car but from the terror he’d just seen in your eyes it seemed like maybe even you hadn’t been aware of your actions. Something in the restaurant had set you off, he just can’t figure out what. You’d been alright since you’d gotten settled there, you’d even worked up the courage to dance with him, and then just as quickly as it had come, some kind of invisible wall had gone up in your eyes and you’d shut him out.

He knows he shouldn’t care but he wants to know why. More than he’s wanted to know anything in his life before. He carefully leads you back to the car, worrying about your bare feet on this disgusting stretch of shoulder but you don’t seem concerned. You seem to have come back to yourself but you’re silent as he helps you fold yourself back into the car before he crouches down beside you. You give him a puzzled look as he holds out a hand to you so he reaches gently out for your feet. You start in surprise when his fingers brush your bare ankle but don’t pull away so he wraps his fingers around the soft skin and gently eases your foot into his grip. He examines the bottom, looking for any sort of injury, sweeping at the dusty skin, brushing aside dirt and small pebbles of asphalt clinging to your skin. Your first foot seems fine so he moves on to the other one. His lips pinch into a thin line as he reveals the underside and his eyes catch on a tiny piece of glass stuck in your skin. “Shit,” he mutters and you shift above him.

“What?” He hates how weak and scared your voice sounds.

“Easy, Beautiful, stay still for me for a second?” He looks up in time to see you nod. He shifts to reach for the glove compartment, popping it open. He pulls out a leather case and a pair of socks. Jake’s always so insistent on impromptu bowling outings that he keeps an extra pair of socks in all three of his cars. The leather case is from Nat’s insistence on being prepared for emergencies and for the first time he’s glad for her insistence as he unzips it. He takes out the first aid kid, first ripping open an alcohol swab and cleaning the area around the glass before he pinches it between his fingers and tugs it free. Your foot twitches as he hears the hiss of your breath. He tosses the offending shard somewhere behind him as he looks up just in time to see your teeth digging into the plump skin of your lower lip and liquid dancing at your lash line as your eyes meet his. “This will sting for just a second, okay?” He asks and you nod as he rips open another swab and swipes over the cut that’s starting to dribble blood. You hiss again and then he’s putting a bandaid over the cut. He rubs the top of your foot gently. “There we go, Meep, all done.” He reaches for the socks then, and gently eases one over each of your bare feet. Their slightly too big but it’s endearing. He stands then, wiping his hands on his pants. “Let’s get you home, Meep.” You nod silently.

***

Your foot throbs slightly in the background of your mind as you lean your head against the window. Javy’s socks are too big and a little scratchy but you don’t mind. You know throwing your shoes was stupid but Javy hasn’t said anything about it. You’re exhausted from the panic attack and the adrenaline of almost taking the tumble off the side of the road. You just want to be home. You don’t notice that you’ve drifted off until Javy’s gently shaking your shoulder to let you know that you’re here. But when you blink awake blearily you realize you aren’t at Javy’s apartment where you parked your car but instead, you’re in front of your apartment building. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you’re suddenly very aware of the stark difference between your dumpy suburban complex and Javy’s sleek luxury apartment building.

“I texted Josie and asked for your address and she said she’d pick you up tomorrow morning and drop you off at my place to pick up your car tomorrow,” Javy explains and you nod numbly.

“Thanks,” the word falls lamely off your lips. Javy climbs out of the car and comes around to help you out on your side. You give him an awkward tight-lipped smile as you fumble in the tiny clutch Josie lent you for your keys. “I’ve got it from here,” you assure him as you start to step away from him towards your building. The idea of Javy seeing your apartment right now is mortifying.

“Beautiful, if you think I’m not walking you to your door, you have another thing coming.” You’re exhausted so maybe that’s why your walls fall away as your brow tightens in irritation.

“I said I’m fine.” You frown slightly at him and he just crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re hurt, you’re actively limping,” you glance down to see where your posture has shifted instinctively to favor your uninjured foot, “and it’s late. I’m walking you to your door. Either you can let me help or I can carry you, your choice.”

Your jaw drops at his brazen threat. “You don’t know what unit I live in.” You cross your arms across your chest and tilt your chin out, letting your anxiety and exhaustion channel into stubbornness.

“I’ll take that bet,” Javy says, grinning lazily at you. “Come on, Meep, let’s just go.”

“Fine,” you mutter and lead the way to your door, refusing Javy’s offer of a hand to steady you, favoring the railing of the stairs as you climb up to your floor. When you reach your door, you make sure to unlock it in front of Javy before you turn to him. “Goodnight, Javy. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” He nods, accepting your clear lack of an invitation to come in.

“See you, Roadie.” You watch him walk back down the hallway towards the stairs before you duck inside and lock the door behind you.

A/N: That was a LOADED chapter, but octopus soup day is up next!!! The song Javy sang was Just a Gigolo/ I Ain’t Got Nobody by Louis Prima, I was thinking about it one day and thought it would be a hilarious addition to the fic.

[room-surprise]

sorry if this was answered before, but what inspired you to assign kabru and mithrun their specific studies in your college au? it suits them very well!

I don't think someone's asked this specific question! And if they did, I've forgotten lol Thank you for sending me such a nice ask!

I felt that Kabru would want a "difficult" major like medicine because if he does anything less, he feels like he's not working hard enough. He's capable of doing something difficult so he has an obligation to do it, to help other people.

He's also ambitious in a way, he feels like he *wants* to do something difficult because he enjoys the academic challenge. He wants to have to make an effort and not just coast through effortlessly like I think he does with most academic studies. The challenge makes it more fun for him.

Also he wants to help people, it makes him feel good and like his life has a purpose... and he wants to do something that has good job security, so he will never have to worry about needing someone else to take care of him. He has access to money from Milsiril, but he's avoiding using it, because he doesn't want to be in her debt any further, or to give her any possible method of controlling his life.

I also have an unfortunate amount of experience in hospitals due to personal and extended family medical issues, and as a result I'm overly familiar with doctors and medicine. So writing about Kabru being involved with medicine was fun, and I felt like i could convincingly fake that I knew what I was talking about.

Mithrun, I wanted him to do something "frivolous" because his family situation means he never has to worry about taking care of himself financially. Many famous artists in history ended up artists because they were disgraced noble or wealthy children who left home and "slummed it" with artists, writers, prostitutes and other social outcasts.

Mithrun, in college AU, has never once in his life worried about money or thought about working in order to earn a paycheck. His family has so much money that even if he spent extravagantly every day of his life, they would never notice.

I also thought there was something inherently funny about a stern, traumatized ex-soldier who has experienced death and torture wanting to be an artist, plus a lot of the mental issues Mithrun is facing are things a lot of art students face, though usually different reasons (anxiety, depression, low self esteem etc.)

Additionally, my spouse and I both went through art school, so we're intimately familiar with what it's like, the type of people who are there, the way the teachers are, the assignments, the various things that make up the whole experience.

There are also some secret plot reasons that I made Mithrun an artist, which will start to become clearer as the story progresses.

Thank you again for reading, and for writing to me! 🥰

[i4mask]

MY KÖNIG HEADCANONS, #BACKSTORY EDITION. Written by @i4mask, aka Daniel.

DISCLAIMER: In no way am I claiming any of this is canon, it’s entirely fictional and borne of my own imagination. If you don’t agree/like what you read, please simply just scroll. I also wrote this at like, one AM, forgive me of any errors.

WARNINGS: Mentions/brief descriptions ONLY! of child abuse & violence against children, domestic abuse, alcoholism, murder and trauma.

• KÖNIG was born at home by his Mother with the help of a Midwife and Doula, as well as his Father. He grew up on a large plot of land at the bottom of the Austrian Alps, owned by his Father, who was a well-known Gunsmith to the village a few miles down South.

• KÖNIG was homeschooled by both of his parents in different fashions. He did not have much technological entertainment, instead using nature and the outdoors as means of stimulation. He was often exposed to the elements, but knew how to handle himself amongst them. He grew up learning to hunt, scavenge, identify, plant, etc.

• He did not have many friends aside from his siblings as well as KRUEGER, who I headcanon to have lived in the same area as him for a short period of time. KÖNIG’S lack of social practice is also what contributed to his anxiety and aloofness later on in his life.

• He is the eldest son, having two brothers and two sisters. Emmerich, Rafael, Gisela and Anna. (ORDERED OLDEST TO YOUNGEST.)

• KÖNIG was initially taught to shoot a gun by his Father, who started him on an old revolver at the age of seven. Unfortunately, he struggled in shooting due to his inability to sit/stand still, often missing his marks. He was also quite clumsy, motor skills lacking finesse, leading to his Father believing he was a lost cause when it came to the art, even as he grew older, he struggled with the same problems.

• When KÖNIG proved that he was no good with fire arms, his Father turned to his brothers Emmerich and Rafael, but did not teach his daughters, believing they had no business near such things.

• KÖNIG had a complex relationship with animals, especially small ones. From a young age, it was difficult for him to control the wide range of his own strength. His siblings often disliked allowing him near rodents such as rabbits, mice, or rats, as he often had a habit of injuring or even killing them, even if he didn’t mean to.

• His Father became an alcoholic within his early childhood, his first victim of cruelty being KÖNIG’S Mother, and then KÖNIG himself, who grew up with a lack of confidence, low self-esteem, distrust towards others, anger-hostility, and a sense of general worthlessness because of the continued verbal, physical and emotional abuse.

• KÖNIG began to hate his face since an early age, mostly due to the fact that his Father would often use a knife to cut him, in an effort of intimidating him and preventing him from intervening in the abuse of his Mother (of which he loved dearly.)

• Despite this, KÖNIG grew an emotional attachment/crutch to the very weapons his Father threatened his family with. He had become very familiar with knives since a young age, viewing them as his “neutral guardians”. Knives offered a sense of protection that he had never received as a child, since he used them in many other helpful situations. However, the fact that they were also used against him brought him conflict. He soon came to the conclusion that the only thing which mattered was the person holding the blade.

• On a similar note, he had grown infatuated with fire arms, not dissimilar to his own Father. Despite his own failures with them, he had gone on to silently teach his sisters how to use them.

• KÖNIG tended to idolize his own growth since an early age. He believed that the day he was finally taller than his Father was the day he would be able to “free himself” and his family from the shackles of his father’s violence. He constantly, discreetly measured himself against the other, in both height AND stature, as well as strength.

• Rather than being a male figure to look up to, KÖNIG’S Father was a figure to look down upon. He often used his Father as an example of what NOT to become, which helped him to better manage his own temperament.

• As the abuse escalated, KÖNIG’S mental health took a downward spiral. He often confided with his only friend at the time, SEBASTIAN KRUEGER, who at one point said, “It would be a shame if your father fell down that ravine near your house, wouldn’t it?”

• SEBASTIAN, who had a penchant for violence of his own since a young age, had subtly encouraged KÖNIG over the expanse of many weeks to find a particular solution to his problem, one which, KÖNIG, after turning seventeen, took upon himself—and then later had KRUEGER aid him in covering up the true nature of his Father’s untimely, unfortunate end.

• With his Father as the family’s only means of income, as his Mother did not work nor was she mentally capable enough to do so after the years of abuse she had experienced, KÖNIG knew that his family’s well-being was left up to him. This, in turn, is what prompted him to join the military, and act as fast as possible to begin a steady income.

• After saving enough up, he moved his family away from Austria and into Germany, where his siblings could attend an official public school and his mother could get the help she needed. He sent his family money quite frequently until his siblings managed to grow their own lives and leave the nest.

• In his free time/leave, KÖNIG visits his Mother, who had decided she wanted to move back into their Austrian home. He only agreed as long one of his siblings stayed with her, to which his younger sister, Gisela, had.

To anyone who made it to the end, I applaud you, and thank you for reading. You may read “SCHADENFRUEDE”, a series on Ao3 in which I write snippets of memories from KÖNIG’S childhood according to this post on here:

[darcytaylor]

As someone with ADHD, like Luke, and the rejection sensitivity and anxiety that comes with it, I don’t have public social media profiles. So on one hand, I have some empathy for him. I really understand the low self-esteem, high levels of self-criticism, people pleasing tendencies, overwhelm, executive dysfunction, and stress. But he chose to go into film/ TV acting rather than theatre, knowing that the recognition and scrutiny that comes with it would be worse. He chose to go into acting even though it’s known that rejection is a huge part of the job. He has chosen to keep social media. He could have totally deleted all of his profiles when he deleted Twitter. Many actors aren’t online, including his own cast mates. I find it hard to believe that he solely kept it to please the fans, since he doesn’t post snippets of his life like he once did. He also chose to share that his profile is just for work now. Yet, he has been caught liking his girlfriend’s photos within minutes, even though he has a private account to do that, while Nicola posts about Bridgerton and he can’t even be bothered to throw her a like or a comment- let alone posting something himself. It’s been months of this. If he’s already online, it doesn’t take a lot to screenshot a news headline and share it to his story with a “thank you, these numbers are incredible”. So, on the other hand, I understand where the frustration is coming from. Is this a work account or not? The timing of some of those online-but-not-for-Bridgerton incidences coupled with the timing of the InStyle and premiere stunts was not a good look. It makes him seem ungrateful and like he wants nothing to do with the show. It’s his bad luck that Nicola is the internet’s darling. He won’t ever have her social media savvy and I do feel for him there. She outshines him in interviews and online. But the bar is really on the floor for him and a lot of fans are handling him with kid gloves (not you by any means). A lot of the criticism he’s facing is fair. He’s in an overwhelming situation right now, but he has the financial means to tackle it through therapy and by handing over his social media account to the publicists he already pays. I was jealous when he mentioned he has coping strategies for his ADHD and dyslexia in Bowral- it’s still a struggle for me. Unfortunately for me and women everywhere, we weren’t adequately included in ADHD research until the 90s and there wasn’t even a long-term study until 2002. I’ve been in weekly therapy for 5 years now, following a major breakdown coupled with grief, and for 4 of those years, I was waiting for an appointment with a covered psychiatrist to get *any* diagnosis, since I didn’t have the thousands needed to pay for my own private testing. If I have been able to prioritize this within my meagre free time and budget (rather than trips, nights out, restaurants, unnecessary shopping, etc. and with some debt), he can easily do the same. That lifestyle isn’t quite how I imagined my young adulthood would pan out. One Soho Farmhouse weekend of his could pay for a few months. And he’s had months on end since season 3 wrapped filming when he could have done intensive daily therapy, especially after his break up, rather than pursuing 20 year olds online or jetting off to another holiday. Maybe he did- I don’t know his life- but maybe he needs more right now. When he turned on Nicola’s notifications and started liking random posts she was tagged in by brands, I already assumed he had handed over his account. If so, his team should extend that to story posts for Bridgerton news. All of that to say, my empathy has its limits. The barriers currently holding him back have solutions.

Thank you for your response and taking the time to write in an ask. I appreciate you!

I do understand the frustration/disappointment of how Luke is handling some things (especially his social media). It seems like this is an area of his life that could be an easy fix for him (hand it over to someone more capable) and he just can't seem to take that step.

Luke is overwhelmed (as he has stated multiple times) and while I can also say it is the life he chose, I think it could also be a case of not realizing exactly what his industry entails.

It's easy to say that he's the one that chose it, but if he's doing something he loves to do, it was probably worth the risk in the end. Maybe he truly believed he could handle things like this. Hindsight is 20/20.

I am sorry that you weren't able to afford the proper health care and it has taken you so long to get a diagnosis. I hate that things like that are unattainable without money. It should not be the case.

Luke is privileged in that aspect for sure and it sucks when it seems like people take that for granted. Although hopefully, like you have also stated, he has been able to seek the help that he may need. All things like this take time and is also very personal (I don't want to further speculate on that matter).

I always strive to look at situations empathetically (and sometimes even to a fault). I always like to look at and come up with multiple reasons why someone may be doing what they are doing. This has let me see some situations in a different light, allowing me to be empathetic or sympathetic to situations. I know that with most situations it is never the case of being black and white (life is nuanced, people are nuanced). So many things can be at play at one time, and most of the time I can see valid reasons why someone is doing what they are doing (even when they are making bad choices).

Obviously I don't know what is going on with Luke at the moment, or where his head is truly at. But I have faith that he will come around and straighten himself out. I don't think he has done anything that is completely unforgivable, so I'm giving him a little bit of grace.

[irasamu]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 MY HEART IS ALREADY YOUR'S, JUST CLAIM IT ; an atsushi nakajima drabble. ❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . athelete atsushi fluff? hell yeah!! give atsushi love you guys. (aka give me attention).

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw; angst, fluff, hurt to comfort idk, fem!reader, footballer!atsushi, actress!reader, anxious atsushi, atsushi has low self esteem, atsushi and reader are just cute fools in love and that's it ig,

sometimes losing is essential for the development of a person but not now. atsushi is ready to loose anything but this moment, his perfect and only opportunity to open his heart and serve it on a platter. oh whatever entity is above , he prays to you tonight to let things go his way for once. atsushi doesn't deem himself worthy of many things and it's the same now as he runs, bumping into people and profusely apologizing to them, anxious eyes glancing back to make sure his bouquet of flowers he carefully picked doesn't get damaged in the slightest.

atsushi is a man of sorrow, of disappointments and of unfortune but he had always gambled his way, betting his entire life for the temporary and fabricated worth to breath, to inhale without feeling as if he owns something and everything to everyone. the burning in his knees aren't from fatigue, he is a good runner or he wouldn't be in the national team but from fear.

he knows he doesn't have much time but please, oh please, let him have a few minutes at most. that's all he needs and deserves. feeling himself near the port where it all started years ago when atsushi was still a freshman in university, atsushi feels the same he felt that day.

anxious, scared yet excitement coated with nervousness.

and as the adults in his life turned a blind eye to his misfortunes, he too, turns a deaf ear to the thumping in his heart.

he speeds up, his eyes sparkles and he stops in his tracks entirely. the transition of his panick to cold anxiety is impressive but not more impressive then you who waited for him even if he is half an hour late from the original meet up time that he had set and shame not only backhugs him but makes its authority, its dominance over him clear in the form of the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"i . . . am late, sor-"

"-- yeah, you are late."

you two spoke at the same time and even the way you two widened your eyes happened at the same time.

atsushi had never been a man of fake hope but come on, this moment can't be a coincidence right?

raising his hand to place it on his nape which he then rubbed to form some friction strong enough to take his attention away from his furiously beating heart, atsushi glances down, biting his lip for his words are lost in the labyrinth which is his brain.

you bite your thumb, anxious eyes staying on him before falling on the bouquet of flowers by his side but you don't speak rather, you can't. you have never been one to speak first after all.

a few minutes of agonizing silence passed by before the small yet prominent part of atsushi which is a rebel compared to the rest of his personality, shouted, begged even for him to speak out now or hold this same cruel silence forever.

and who is atsushi but not a man and who is a man but not him who doesn't take the opportunity presented infront of him, taking the risk all for that success which isn't even guaranteed to be his?

taking a deep breath, his stomach is churning in anxiety, he exhales and couldn't, no matter how much he tried to, ignore the sweat forming on his nape.

atsushi raised his head, feeling his fingers turn cold and the coldness spreading to the rest of his hand.

atsushi took a step forward and grabbed your forearm, pulling you near him.

"i . . . please come to support me tomorrow, it's the semi finals."

oh.

no, no -- wait no.

oh god, no.

this wasn't what he wanted to say, he wanted to confess today yet no matter how much atsushi matures, how much he heals, he will remain the same coward he was ever since a kid.

atsushi could feel tears pooling in his eyes at utter disappointment at his own self, lips parted yet closed because will a confession even matter now? he ruined his chances.

calling you out despite knowing your movie premiere is in a few hours, finding time to squeeze out of his own hectic training to run all the way here and all for a measly invitation?

your heart squeezed in pain upon seeing tears in the eyes of the angel who stood with you many time despite your habit of always fucking over everything.

you knew you would either be proud or regret this moment but when has any of that ever mattered when it comes to atsushi so you step forwards, hesitantly raising your arms before you engulfed the man in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer.

atsushi broke down.

mayhaps it's the pressure of representing the country in the semi finals of the world cup, the expectations of his teammates, the fear of failing infront of the entire world, failing infront of you or maybe it's because he is disappointed in itself, lost his faith in himself and because he doesn't think he is worthy of hugging you

"if you win tomorrow," you pause, sadly looking down at his trembling form as he silently cries, ashamed and embarrassed, disappointed and sorrowful, ". . .take me out on a date and kiss me by the end of the night."

you complete your sentence as you didn't mind his arms being by his sides and not encircling your waist. you take the bouquet from his hand while you continue to rub his back in a comforting way with the other.

atsushi nods, face hiding in the crook of your neck and you close your eyes, relishing in the short moment of peace your heart acquired before your big show tonight, nothing but well wishes and hopes leaving your heart for the white haired man who is in your arms.

and you sigh, in disappointment or sadness, you aren't sure but one thing for certain is that atsushi nakajima won't confess today even if his feelings are awfully obvious.

and you? you will wait, for tomorrow, for you were tired of waiting and gave him the shove he needed.

and you could only hope that the status of your relationship changes tomorrow and who is atsushi if not a man?

and who is a man who doesn't grasp the opportunity presented to him?

and atsushi is a man, a human of the rawest form or else is there any better explanation to explain why only a day later, as atsushi scored the last goal, his first instinct wasn't to run towards his teammates and celebrate, wasn't to admire the fireworks fired to congratulate the winning team ; the team he is a part of.

but to look at the bleachers where thousands of fans sat and between them, were you, his eyes immediately found you because he had been looking at you many times once his teammate pointed you out to him.

your heart thumped in your chest, a grin couldn't be stopped by your self control from taking over your face as you continued to look at atsushi who pointed at himself, ran a hand through his hair, showed you two fingers -- his index and middle finger to indicate 'two' -- before he pointed at his wrist and then finally looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

in response, you tilted your head as you pouted subtly before closing your eyes as you shrugged and nodded, giggling upon seeing atsushi being swarmed by his teammates running and jumping onto him.

"two hours . . . i have spend an entire year while waiting for you to confess so two more hours isn't a big deal for me." you mumbled to yourself, not even thinking of the scandals and articles the media will publish centred on you and atsushi.

your eyes soften at the sight below of the happy and excited team members who ruffled atsushi's hair or congratulated him for his goal did end up being the one to make them enter the finals after all.

the grin on atsushi's face, sweat dribbling down his temples and the way sweet laughs left his lips were the sight you wanted to see forever.

when you leaned your chin on your palm and leaned forwards, you could almost picture atsushi being this joyful with your kids -- having a family with atsushi? the thought had you biting down on your bottom lip shyly.

atsushi ran towards his coach who patted his back, congratulating him and throwing a few praises which had the younger boy blushing in embarrassment when his eyes, once again, found you and atsushi tuned out from the world, his eyes were focused on only you and the adrenaline from winning which was still in his veins converted into courage and the small prominent part of him, the rebel, possessed him when atsushi raised his hand to point at you before blowing a flying kiss in your direction, winking after and the way he smirked when he saw your eyes widen in surprise before you smiled had nearly the entire stadium squealing at the sight of the man.

atsushi chuckled, turning to face his teammate as he talked to him for a few minutes before he looked at you again, winking again, taking advantage of this newfound courage in him and something about the sight of a sweat drenched atsushi with his hair messed up winking has you clenching your thighs and smiling like a lovesick fool.

you cover your bottom half of your face with your palm to conceal your smile from the many eyes and atsushi laughed, covering and rubbing his face with his hands -- the camera flashed capturing both of you in the moment and it will surely make a good cover picture on tomorrow's articles.

atsushi's coach playfully slapped his back, leading him out of the stadium and your smile didn't dare leave your face as you see him laugh, hiding the upper half of his face with his hand as he didn't try to fight the countless teasings of his teammates, he liked it, liked when they spoke of your name and his in the same sentence.

[sleepyburito]

fto rewrite incorrect quotes

rewriting one of my comfort mcrp's and I made these as well:

Inspired by @leaf-in-a-flower-garden to share these

Dragon Slayers

Blake: “Struggle with depression” would seem to imply that I am bad at being depressed when I am, in fact, very proficient at being depressed.

Bryan: “Struggle with depression” would seem to imply that I am bad at being depressed when I am, in fact, very proficient at being depressed.

Mori: Seek always accuses me of having a favourite but that’s not true. Mori: I love Blake and all the not-Blakes equally.

*Bryan teaching Blake to drive and taking Davis along for the ride* Bryan: That's a pothole. To the left! Blake: Take it back now y'all *Drives into pothole* Davis, sticking their face into the front over the center console: Cha Cha real smooth. Blake: I don't think that's how the song goes. Bryan, crying and gripping the handle: Please just take me home. Blake: Country Roads. Davis: To the place. Blake and Davis in unison: I Belong! Bryan, crying harder: What the fuck?

Bryan: Viper, I need some advice. Viper: You need advice from ME? Bryan: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

Mario: Blake has no survival skills, her need to win has replaced them. Bryan: That can't be true! Mario: Watch this. Mario: Hey Blake, race you to the bottom of the stairs! Blake: *Throws herself out a window*

Blake: What did you order this morning? Davis: What do you mean? Blake: I heard you answer the door, and I sensed food

Viper: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Bryan: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

Colin: Why's it called an oven when you of in the cold food and you of out hot eat the food? Seek: ...What???

Mori: I'm gonna get my pilot's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses. Colin: The big five licenses? Mori: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Blake: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them?? Mario: What the hell do you do? Blake: I die? What kinda question…

Blake: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED! Blake: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY! Bryan: Blake just threw a tantrum about a chair. Bryan: I just won Blake Tantrum Bingo.

Mori, trying to comfort Mania: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

Viper, on the phone: Uh. . Hey, Mario, i uh, I’ve been stabbed. Bryan: WHAT? WHERE ARE YOU? Viper: Wait- You aren’t Mario. Sorry- I didn’t mean to call you- Bryan: NO, WHERE ARE YOU? IM COMING THERE. IM NOT GOING TO LEAVE SOMEONE ALONE THATS BEEN STABBED.

Mori: Ask me anything. Go ahead, I'll give you a straight answer. Blake: Why are we so fucking awesome? Mori: That's the best fucking question anybody's ever asked.

Divinus Magia 

Mario, to Inmo: One universe, nine planets, seven seas, seven continents, and I had the unfortunate luck of meeting you. Blake: Hey, that’s not very nice- Inmo: There are only eight planets, you uncultured swine! Blake, forgetting about Mario: VIVA LA PLUTO, FUCK YOU!

Lara: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Mario? Mario: David, easily. David, laughing: What the fuck, man. Mario: Well, Furan would be too easy. He’d probably be into it. Furan, now standing in the doorway: What the fuck, man!?

Brandon: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game... David, nodding: Knife Monopoly. Brandon: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

Furan: What do you do for a living? Ritchie: I exist against my will.

Ritchie: I failed my safety training course today. Blake: Why, what happened? Ritchie: Well one of the questions was "In case of a fire, what steps would you take?" Blake: And? Ritchie: Well apparently "FUCKING LARGE ONES" isn't an acceptable answer.

David: Yo! I heard you like reptiles, got any fun facts? Blake: If a dragon eats your dad, they become your new dad.

Lucas: What do you want for breakfast, Blake? Blake: Gay Cheerios. Lucas: I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING FRUIT LOOPS THAT!!

Devin: My level of gay has reached “sighing deeply whenever anything extremely heterosexual happens near me”.

Lucas: Someone care to explain why we have 6 dogs in our guild hall? Inmo: They're golden retrievers, dude. They retrieve gold. I did this for us.

Devin: Why are you smiling? Brandon: What? I can’t just be happy? David: Ritchie tripped and fell in the parking lot.

Blake: Can I have a private talk with you? Furan: Okay, as long as it’s not about tampons because I just don’t understand them.

Kit: Not to be nsfw but I want someone to hold me while I sleep.

Devin, sleep deprived: Why's it called an oven when you of in the cold food and you of out hot eat the food? Ritchie: ...What???

Inmo: Blake, say aluminum again. It's the entire source of my serotonin during these trying times. Blake: *sigh* Only for you, buddy. Alyoouminnieeum. Blake: Self-care is suppressing all your trauma until it comes back and hits you in the face with the force of 7 very large trucks.

[nerdygaymormon]

Mosiah 3:19 - Putteth off the natural man

For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.

Unfortunately, there are some who use this verse to say that being queer is part of the "natural man" and makes us "an enemy to God," and that we need to put off being queer.

Unfortunately for them, people can't choose to not be gay or trans or pan or aro or queer. This is how we experience the world and is not a choice we make, and nor can we choose to change our sexual orientation or gender identity, it doesn't work that way.

—————————

It’s natural to feel uncomfortable around people who are different from you. Those who aren't queer should try putting off their "natural man" and learn to see us as God does.

Over the years I have attended numerous meetings at church where I heard about the gay agenda and that gay marriage is an attack on the family. I have heard the jokes and the laughs in response. I heard how they referred to gay people and others in the LGBT+ community. I heard about conversion therapy, mixed orientation marriages, and other ways of treating this "illness."

I learned to stay in the closet because they taught me that the God who made me queer wanted me there. Being in the closet means hiding who you are, carefully monitoring what you reveal about yourself, suppressing who you are in order to be acceptable.

I now think that to "putteth off the natural man" means to give up the fear that others gave me about who I am. It means to give up the emotional baggage I carried from all those rejecting messages. It means not hiding & suppressing who God made me to be. It means not hiding from God. It means understanding that being queer isn't a trial or evil, or will doom me in a postmortal existence. It means not believing others who tell me I'm an enemy to God or that God rejects their queer children.

—————————

As a church, we need to "becometh as a child" when it comes to what we believe and teach about queer people. Are we humble when it comes to the possibility that we need to change? Are we meek about what we believe and open to the idea that perhaps we haven't fully understood what God wants us to learn? Are we willing to learn from what science teaches about queer identities? Are we truly full of love for queer people and others who are different from us, a love which the queer person would recognize as love? As a church we need to "putteth off the natural man" as it is harming these precious children of God.

LGBT individuals in our church experience high rates of anxiety, depression, low self-esteem and/or self-worth, self-harm, shame, internalized homophobia/transphobia, post-traumatic stress, persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness, scrupulosity, and suicidality. Are these good fruits? Is this what a loving God would want?

The LDS Church currently teaches that it's okay to be queer as long as we don't act on it, by which they mean we should either remain single for life or enter a mixed-orientation marriage, both of which are shown to lead to higher levels of internalized homophobia, sexual identity distress, depression, and lower levels of self-esteem and quality of life. Playing by the rules presented by the Church ends in negative results for queer individuals. The trial isn't being queer, it's all that is preached about people who are queer.

[certainwoman]

difficult summer, beautiful ape photos and trying to fight self-destructive thoughts

I switched to an increased dosage of antidepressants at the end of May. It helped me a lot initially in terms of heightened energy levels and desire to focus on my aspirations. Then I got a call to apply for the same job position that I did in March. And then I was called for an interview again. I had no idea why the position was vacant again and as silly and naive I am still to the bureaucratic workings of academia, I imagined I had a real shot at my dream employment again. Well when I was interviewed on July 10th, I remember walking out and sitting on the stairs for a while trying to collect myself as I began to uncontrollably cry. I do not take disappointment well, I do not take stress well and I certainly do not bureaucracy well. As it tends to be, the original vacancy was announced again due to bureaucratic errors in their hiring process. After crying on the stairs, I went to an asian fusion restaurant and cried there too. I also cried because I was sort of struggling with my chopsticks (I am slavic!!! I use chopsticks at home sometimes but I think my fine motor skills have never been particularly strong. I also hold my pencil wrong. I learned there was no shame in holding my chopsticks wrong that day though when I googled it) . Days later, they announced that they hired a different candidate.

My therapist was on her summer vacation, I came back home, I was surrounded by my step father's family and it all added to the stress. I watched incredibly dumb tv shows (crime procedurals are unfortunately one guilty pleasure I do not speak about usually). Despite the meds, unemployment and disappointment of attending one pointless interview only intensified with struggles with depression and debilitating anxiety. When I say my anxiety is debilitating, I truly mean it. Filled with shame, I will admit I spent several years attempting to finish my two master's theses which I thought I would never finish because of classic boring exhausting imposter syndrome, perfectionist thoughts. I annoy myself. I had an incredibly devastating conversation with an ex boyfriend of mine recently and he called me an intense, difficult person. I am an incredibly intense, difficult woman and maybe I should embrace it. I do need to learn how to be a bit kinder to myself. So I did finish my master's program and in December last year, my thesis advisor told me to start working on adapting (shortening it + translating it from one language to another) it into a scientific article so I could add at least one notable publication to my CV (my career aspirations are academic, I am basically not good at anything else). I still haven't done this. Why? The same thoughts I had before. I have no idea why I feel like a fraud half of the time. I have extremely low self esteem. I fall in love with the wrong people and it emotionally shatters me. So summer was wasted. It was also extremely hot and I do not take the heat well.

I started daydreaming about hanging out with apes, gorillas, bonobos, chimpanzees, orangutans, the classics. Their images brought me such peace. It was an extremely romanticized idea that helped me amidst the despair of my every day life. I was just thinking however, even though due to all the difficulties I have faced with mental illness, various painful events throughout these few years, I did major in sociology because I truly love sociology. Even looking at simple cute photos of apes (who let's not forget can be also incredibly aggressive and difficult and intense but not in the same way as me), reminds me of environmental destruction and then I go back to the imperialism and the capitalism. The classics! Also interestingly enough, I never had a wannabe primatologist, biologist, even veterinarian phase when I was a child. I was obsessed with documenting birthdays in excel files and remembering various unimportant numbers and novels. Library was my favourite place. I think I wanted to be a doctor, a fashion designer, psychologist and then a sociologist when I was 16.

Today I decided to focus again on trying to get published. I will try to remember my mom believes in me, my thesis advisor thinks I could get published and also some other people hopefully also believe in me. Will I end up spending the day instead watching incredibly dumb shows and having negative thoughts about my own abilities to ever prosper? Probably! I also think I do not deserve films whenever I mess up and do not fulfil the obligations I have set for myself in my head. I have no idea where this came from? I was not punished as a child, I was just incredibly driven and competitive!

[sahtherat]

OK. This is a translation of our joint work with my bestie @imnotherewoup and me.

Here's a "regularly" updated list of One Piece characters' traumas with a slightly more realistic eye.

The => correspond to the consequences of the traumas we've identified in the manga (irl, there would be many more).

Don't hesitate to let me know if there are any mistakes or things to add.

TRIGGER WARNING (these are traumas after all) take care of yourself ❤️🤙🏻

Luffy

- No parent or parental figure

- Beaten by grandfather + constant pressure Marine

- Living with bandits / slums

- Law of the jungle = survive early, hard and alone (with 10-year-old brothers)

- Daily near-death experiences

- Kidnapped and beaten by bandits as a child ×2 (tortured the 2nd time)

- His idol sacrifices himself for him and loses his arm

- Fake death of his brother

- Death of his other brother

- Death of his brother (really this time) in front of his eyes to save him

- Poisoned ×2

- Shooter on hormones

- Assaulted by drug-craving children

- Starved himself

- The loss of Merry

- Deported by Kuma = government figure

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

- Responsibility of being captain + having to fight his buddies

=> PTSD

=> Fear of being alone

=> Survivor syndrome

=> Feelings of guilt

=> Fear of losing loved ones

=> Depressive episode

=> Self-arm

=> Nightmares

=> Survigilance

=> Little consideration of the hazard itself

Ace

- No parent = Death

- Father figure demonized by strangers + daddy issues

- Being beaten by adoptive grandfather + constant pressure Marine

- Living with brigands / slums

- The law of the jungle = survive early and hard and alone (with best buddy his own age)

- Death of best friend

- Near-death experience (fires, etc.)

- Taking care of a kid / taking responsibility early on

=> Self-esteem XXXS

=> Suicidal thoughts

=> Survivor syndrome

=> Spend his life finding a reason to be in the place to be

=> All symptoms of depression

Sabo

- Abusive parents : confinement, manipulation, devaluation = no family

- Runaway

- Police violence

- Living with brigands / slums

- Law of the jungle = survive early, hard and alone (with best buddy his own age)

- Near-death experience (assassination attempt)

- Amnesia overcome

- Death of best friend

=> Traumatic amnesia

=> Feelings of guilt

=> Survivor syndrome

=> Anti-system / Anarchist

Nami

- Murder of her adoptive mother in front of her eyes to save her = no parents

- Slavery

- Threat from the village

- Life of hardship / poverty

- Pressure to succeed

- Life of solitude

- Deported by Kuma = government figure

- Witnessing her friends' traumas

=> Racism

=> Materialism + theft

=> Self-mutilation

Zoro

=> Desire to control everything -> Manipulative

- No parents / parental figure / apparently lives alone as a child

- Death of best friend / rival

- Daily near-death experiences (Mihawk, Kuma, Albert etc)

- Deported by kuma = government figure

- Self-arm

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

=> Impossible grief because he has to fulfill his friend's dream

=> Alcoholism (?)

=> High sense of sacrifice

=> *a bit crazy*

Usopp

- Mother dies in front of him of illness

- Abandonment of father (he still went to fetch milk* with his buddy shanks)

*I don't know if this expression exists in English, but in French it means abandoning wife and child for no particular reason.

- Threatened by pirate

- Losing the Merry

- Fighting his best buddy

- Deported by kuma = government figure

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

=> No parental figure

=> Feeling of illegitimacy / low self-esteem

=> Anxiety (and unfortunately he's the only one)

=> Lying to keep control

=> Survivor syndrome

Sanji

- Bullied / abused / mistreated / sequestered by his entire family

- Except his mother, but she died of illness

- Genetically changed

- Runaway

- Shaky father figure

- Fighting his captain

- Starvation

- Electrocuted

- Arranged marriage + manipulating + threatening father figure

- 2 years on the run from transvestites (yes, I know I'm tired of it)

- Heartbreak (by Viola)

- Near-death experiences

- Deported by Kuma = government figure

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

=> Smoking (like all the time)

=> Giving himself away in the kitchen

=> Obsession with women

=> High sense of sacrifice

TonyTony Chopper

- Non-consensual transition

- Rejected by everyone = Discrimination and marginalization ++

- Doping

- Getting beaten

- Death of his mentor (among others) due to his fault

- Pressure to succeed at work

- Life as a doctor = hard to fail

- Haggling

- Attacked by needy children

- Deported by Kuma = government figure

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

=> Guilt

=> Isolation

Nico Robin

- Only survivor of his people's genocide = no family or friends

- Left with her aunt who hated her and treated her like a slave

- Lonely childhood

- Harassed by government

- Wrongly sentenced to death

- Rejected by everyone

- Manipulated

- Exploited

- Near-death experiences (Aokiji, Ener, Crocodile etc )

- Deported by Kuma = government figure

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

=> Desire to die

=> Self-esteem as a skill only = objectifying herself

=> Does not project into the future / into social relationships

=> Survivor syndrome

Franky

- Abandoned by his parents

- Mentor gets beaten in front of + death sentence (among others) because of him

- Hit a train

- Family break-up (adoptive)

- Arrested by government

- Near-death experiences

- Deported by Kuma = government figure

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

=> Self-mutilation

=> Guilt

Brook

- Loss of his entire crew + witnessing their death

- Solitude for 50 years

- Stealing your shadow

- Get blown up by the guy with your shadow

- Loss of humanity/body

- Deported by Kuma = government figure

- Witnessing his buddies' traumas

- Sequestered by Satanists

- Exploited by music industry

- Sequestered by Big Mom

=> Talking to himself / alone all the time

=> Forced and repetitive humor

=> Guilt

=> Depression

=> Survivor Syndrome

Vivi

- Fighting alone in a criminal organization

- Under tension for months/years

- Threat from her country + her people killed

- Father killed by government

- Servant almost dies to save country

- Fake death of her other servant / buddy

=> Pressure / mental burden of ensuring the country's survival and her role as princess alone

Trafalgar Law

- Epidemic in his village + Genocide

- All his family + loved ones die = loneliness as sole survivor

- Hiding under corpses

- Being exploited

- Sick + rejected by doctors

- Father figure killed in front of his eyes to save him = solitude v2

- Shot by his former boss

- Beaten / Tortured / Near Death Experiences (a classic after all)

=> Desire for terrorism

=> Survivor syndrome

=> Working for a criminal organization

=> Looking for a way to die

=> Large-scale project to destroy his former boss

Shirahoshi

- Mother's murder in front of her eyes

- Isolation for half her life

- Child sexualization

- Stalker trying to kill her for years

- First date ends in battlefield

- Family beaten in front of her eyes

=> Childish behavior

=> Generalized anxiety/social anxiety

=> Sexual harassment trivialized

Yamato

- Sequestered all his life by his father

- Lived in prison

- Exploited by father

- No real parental figure

- His only friend is dead

- His idol is dead, killed by his father

- Child of a criminal who ravages a country

=> No social skills

=> Seeks to create a separate identity

[dolphin1812]

I love that Cosette’s beauty is first and foremost for herself. The previous chapters have had lots of implications of romance and attracting the interest of men, but here, her beauty is defined outside of that sphere. Instead of thinking, “I could be attractive to men,” Cosette is curious about beauty because she heard it commented on in the convent and wonders what the experience of being beautiful is like. Of course, it’s not that beauty in the convent is outside of gendered expectations – it was considered threatening precisely because beautiful women were seen as more likely to get married because they appealed to men – but it’s only implicit here, as if it’s not at the forefront of Cosette’s mind. Her curiosity befits her youth (she’s still a child!), and her decisions about how to dress herself to enjoy her beauty and experiment with fashion signal her growing independence (as well as her consistent willingness to change and engage with the world – a product of the love and security she’s had).

Of course, this is Hugo Writing Women, so there are uncomfortable elements. His focus on beauty with most of the main women in the novel (Fantine, Éponine, and now Cosette) suggests that he considered it one of the more valuable traits in women, and while each character’s struggle to live up to gendered expectations that they want to meet is sympathetic on its own, that each character is so eager to meet these expectations does limit the broader portrayal of women in the novel (most of the really sympathetic women who don’t adhere to notions of beauty and romance are nuns). He also explicitly states that love and beauty are a woman’s whole life, which is a pretty horrible line. Still, I’m glad that Cosette got a lot of agency here!

In contrast to Cosette, the ever-frightened Jean Valjean fears change. Cosette has had years of security with Valjean; he’s only ever had partial safety, having to conceal his identity even in the convent (even if it wasn’t the same risk of arrest he lives with now). Add to that all of his years of imprisonment and he becomes even more insecure and stressed. Hugo reminds us of his status as an ex-convict when stating that all Valjean cares about is Cosette loving him, thus letting us know that the two are connected. Since he does not value himself, Valjean only knows how to find love through this established tie with Cosette. Her beauty isn’t bad; it’s destabilizing. She now has different interests, and he doesn’t know how to manage that properly because he can’t communicate his anxieties. Nothing in this chapter suggests that Cosette loves him any less, but unfortunately, Jean Valjean’s low self-esteem makes that the apparent outcome of any change in their lives in his mind.

Another link to early Jean Valjean: he stays in the backyard instead of the garden, as if he were a dog. He was below a dog when we first met him, as the dog had a doghouse and he had nowhere. He’s no longer actively being placed below animals by society, but because he’s internalized these ideas, he does this to himself.

Dogs are also extremely obedient to authority within the context of the novel (think of Javert). There’s no societal authority, but Valjean has also created his own hierarchy, where Cosette is in charge and he must submit (she actually doesn’t want this – she wants him to be happy and equal to her – but in this case, he just has to not say anything for her to not know that he’s upset; consequently, it’s harder for her to challenge him on this than everything else).

[lover-of-skellies]

Underfell sans? probably would be low maybe, but I'm curious.

Shockingly enough, his rating is actually an 8. He’s a safer option, but not by much due to his temper and how accustomed he is to reacting to anything unexpected with violence and aggression. But alas, such is the way of the Underfell monsters, I suppose

1) How dangerous is his mouth? Much like his brother, his teeth are sharp. The exact sharpness is up for debate, since I think think there’s anything from his creator regarding that, but for now, they appear sharp enough to be dangerous. So sadly, I have to give him a 0. His mouth is dangerous, and you better hope you don’t surprise him or piss him off

2) Would he bite, and his he aggressive? I don’t see him biting on purpose, but if he was startled, that’s a different story. His aggression though is undeniable. His entire personality at this point is him being an edgy tsundere with anger management issues. He has no qualms against fighting and throwing hands with others, or threatening them in one way or another, and due to being from Underfell, being that way just seems to be standard procedure for the monsters there. He loses a potential point for being so aggressive, but I can give him 1 point for not being a purposeful biter. Accidents happen, yeah, but he may or may not have more smooching experience than his brother, which could possibly make up for that.

3) Are there any health hazards for the smoocher? Unfortunately, yes there are. His sharp teeth are a bit of a potential hazard on their own, but then pair that with his temper/attitude and his magical abilities. If he somehow thought you were about to attack him instead of smooching, you’re going to get very hurt, very fast. Since he’s the type to act now and think later, he wouldn’t have anything against defending himself from whatever threat is there in front of him, even if the perceived threat is just that: perceived. Assuming you asked nicely beforehand or made it clear what you wanted to do, then he might be ok with it. He’d think you were being a weirdo and he’d probably act like it never happened out of embarrassment, but I’ll give him 1 point since there’s a chance that he might be safe enough to try smooching, if you went about doing it correctly

4) Does Red have a sympathetic backstory? When you consider the underground that he had to raise Edge in, the constant threat of being ganged up on and hurt for literally any reason under the sun, and the stress of having to support himself and his brother, yeah, I’d say he deserves a little sympathy. That’s not even counting the kind of treatment that he has to endure from Edge and everyone else that’s in his AU. He likely has a lot of depression and anxiety due to his treatment, living conditions, and the knowledge of the resets, he very likely has lots of trust issues and problems forming attachments because of the environment itself, and his self esteem is probably nonexistent. He needs therapy and some genuine friends more than anything else, and he needs to be somewhere that’s not as harsh and abrasive. The mental and emotional issues don’t excuse his poor attitude itself, but it at least gives somewhat of an explanation for it, and yeah, I’d say his backstory is pretty sympathetic. He gets 2 points for his sad backstory

5) Does he deserve a smooch? He’s rude beyond belief and he’s very rough around the edges, but considering everything he’s gone through and had to deal with his entire life, yes, I’d say smooches are deserved. 2 points for this area

6) Is he cute or cool? His design itself is really cool to me, since I think it’s simple but very effective in helping him stand out from other Sanses, and he’s got this very lone wolf, angsty teen sort of energy about him. When done correctly that could give him cool points, as long as he’s not turned into the butt end of a joke anywhere along the line. He’s been portrayed in such a way that while cute moments are extremely rare, I actually have seen them happen once or twice. Taking that into consideration, I’d say he gets another 2 points here

In total, Red’s smooch-ability rating is 8, surprisingly enough. He has quite the temper and is prone to violence just like his brother, but from what we know, he does use at least a decent amount of self control to kinda balance it out a little. Kissing him is something that could be done, but you’d have to know him really well and communicate what you wanted beforehand, or else it’s just not happening. If you’re a total stranger trying to smooch him, then you can bet your ass you’d get pretty beat up and injured in some way by him. All in all, in depends on familiarity and circumstances, but an 8 seems pretty fair to me

[autismtana]

santana lopez has adhd (part 2)

^the adhd/lesbian flags^

(*disclaimer: i have adhd myself and work in education/educational psychology, which is the basis of this post in which i get wayyyyy too analytical about a fictional character; however, i'm not a psychiatrist or doctor and am not qualified to diagnose real people with adhd or anything else ... seriously, our only representation is cis white boys whose adhd is an explanation for them being the class clown and treated as a joke so please don't get salty at me for claiming a fictional character that isn't a cis white boy as part of the adhd gang)

(credit to @dojasrivera on twitter for making the og adhd!santana thread; i unfortunately wasn’t able to see it as i only found out about it after their original twitter account got suspended but there may be some overlap between their thread and this post)

sup homies, as you know, tumblr cut me off so i had to make a part 2. (here's part 1)

ambitious but lacking in direction - noted terrible educator will schuester describes santana as being "unfocused" in 3x16.  she's indecisive about college in the latter half of season 3, initially says she wants to go then flip-flops, and then goes to louisville (fun fact: donovan mitchell also went there) for a short period of time then drops out.  after that she has a bunch of projects and career goals that never really go anywhere. (partially thanks to the lazy writing on the show)

fear of failure - santana wanted to go to new york after graduation but initially wanted to stay behind when she found out brittany wasn't graduating (like immediately), then chose to take the scholarship to louisville despite brittany and quinn both pointing out that she had the cash from her parents to pursue her dreams in new york (brittany was a lot more supportive and less judgy though). she did end up going after unpacking her anxiety around it with britt though.

low self-esteem, anxiety and/or depression - season 2 is what i like to refer to as "santana lopez's sad gay era", however i'd also argue that season 4 until mid season 5 (when she reunites with brittany) is kind of a low period for her as well.  the break-up is painful for both of them.  they're one another's safe people so when they don't have each other in close proximity, both of them experience depression.  i would also consider her demeanour at the beginning of 5x09 as an example of her exhibiting signs of depression. santana also experiences a lot of anxiety around her interpersonal relationships (pretty much all of season 2, 4x16, 5x09-5x13); in 5x18 it's very apparent that she's scarred by the experience with auditioning for rachel's understudy part and doesn't want to intrude on mercedes (thankfully, mercedes is awesome, we love mercedes jones here, themostrandomfandom does a great job of analysing this storyline here). it's also worth noting that despite how clumsily she goes about things, santana lopez is the most loyal, ride-or-die person on this damn show (she's definitely a gryffindor or hufflepuff who thinks she's a slytherin despite my less than positive thoughts on the transphobic lady's book series, or - in the context of the superior book series - a mary anne who thinks she’s a claudia) but the only acknowledgement she gets is shame, so she internalises it to give people an "out" ("I'm numb to people's feelings", "I have no heart").

can be easily distracted (while also hyperfocused on other things) - has a tendency to zone out of conversations (credit to @santanaslawyer on twitter) and couldn't remember her locker combo around brittany (although some of that could have also been santana being in her sad gay era and pining over britt)

narrow window of tolerance - santana was completely done with everyone's shit like all the time

strong sense of justice - homegirl uses her bitch powers to protect the people she cares about (see 2x17, 3x11, 5x18). other people aren't allowed to make fun of her mates, that's her job, dammit! she's also proactive in reporting mr schuester's lack of efficiency as a spanish teacher not because she dislikes him (which she doesn't; she might roll her eyes at him all the time but she does actually like him as a person) but because his teaching promotes offensive stereotypes, harms her and negatively affects everyone's education (and to her credit she is way more patient and charitable to him than he deserves when he literally chastises her in front of everyone for doing it). she will also challenge authority in situations where she is being held to a different standard to others. in 3x07, when figgins is considering suspending santana, she pushes back against it (rightfully so) because she doesn't understand how there isn't a zero-tolerance policy for violence when finn and puck get into it in the middle of school, or when the glee club get slushied, or when kurt is repeatedly physically assaulted by karofsky, but she slaps finn (after he outed her) and this policy suddenly exists. same applies in 3x13 when finn and rachel are allowed to have very graphic PDAs at school with no complaint from the authorities, but santana and brittany have one chaste peck and it's the end of the world, and she rightfully tells figgins that there's a double standard.

(really random) hyperfixations - it's a popular glee headcanon that santana spends a lot of time researching random shit on wikipedia (which she probably did the night before her wedding so she could explain to britt about the superstition around the bride/groom not seeing each other before the wedding) based on the absolute batshit cultural references she comes out with. she makes the most random cultural references (e.g. comparing rory to the great gazoo, which is a really random side-character from the flintstones), and has somewhat of a fascination with lizards (2x04, 2x12).  she also just randomly made an entire voodoo doll of rachel berry just for shits and giggles, like … wtf

lack of spatial awareness - so this one's mostly just naya rivera's physical comedy, but ... in the nicest possible way ... santana's a tad bit unco, isn't she? (see: her very charming wacky inflatable arm-waving tube person dancing in 3x08, the scene where she literally walks headfirst into a balloon in 3x22 and the scene in 5x17 where she gets attacked by pigeons).

hyperactive - santana's abuela put her in ballet classes because she was "such a tomboy and it really pissed [her] dad off"; obviously we know she had a mullet and dressed up as uncle jesse from full house for halloween (and she knows how to tie a tie, thanks again sarah) - those are obviously aesthetic things but "tomboy" can also be code for "hyperactive" in afab people (particularly if santana's grandmother was of the "children should be seen and not heard" generation).

[aurinkomoukari]

the one where Jim kidnaps you (37513 words) by aurinkomoukari Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Slipknot (Band) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Jim Root/Reader Characters: Jim Root, Reader, Corey Taylor Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff and Smut, yup my kidnapping fic will have fluff lmao, Asshole Exes, Low Self-Esteem, body issues, kinda angsty nihilism, mentions of death and cancer, I’M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS OK???, LIKE SERIOUSLY BEAR WITH ME, heavy metal festivals, Jim being cute and awkward and charming and adorable 🥺, Hardcore flirting, Praise, oops i mean TOOTH-ROTTING PRAISE, corey as a supporting character, spiked drinks, Drugging, BAD COREY, Kidnapping, supernatural shit, demon jim, demon corey, THEY’RE ALL DEMONS!! 😈, well………… sort of, Jim being the most awkward demon in the history of demons 😩😩😩, Imprisonment, Jail cells, but at least they got good linens and Netflix over there lmao, Mating Cycles, going into heat, Breeding, Extinction, reader is very breedable, SO OBVIOUSLY DEMON JIM HAS TO BREED U Y’KNOW, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, hunger strike, but it’s short-lived bc jim won’t tolerate your bullshit, JIM DOLES OUT TOUGH LOVE, Caregiving, Tenderness, super fluffy, Consoling, Affection, gentle jim 🥺, very confusing feelings toward your captor, it’s the brief moment of calm before the shit storm so…………………… yeah, extremely realistic nightmares, Rape, non-con, Crying, Forced Orgasms, BAD JIMBO!, Anxiety, Panic, Kind of a Mental Breakdown, READ THE TAGS PLEASE 🙏🏼, AND BRACE YOURSELF FOR ALL THE DEMON WANG, desperate escape attempts, FLIMSY LOGIC, the Slipknot boys join the party!!!, Violence, poor jimbo gets hit in the face, AND a little mauled by his brothers, so not a good moment to be an enormous awkward demon giraffe lmao, VERY ANGRY JIM 🤬

Chapter summary:

Still stuck in a cloud of anxiety and distress, you decide to make a run for it. Unfortunately you’re up against powers you don’t understand and Jim has to make huge sacrifices to save you from a grim fate…

[ecargmura]

Witch Hat Atelier Volume 4 Review

Why does this story keep getting better with each volume? Witch Hat Atelier is seriously what I consider a modern masterpiece in its own right. I can’t wait for the anime to happen. Unlike the previous volume, this one is focuses on a new arc, so I won’t be reviewing it by each chapter and it’ll be one concise review overall. This volume primarily focuses on Richeh, as she’s on the cover, but it’s also focusing on the Second Exam, where she and Agott participate alongside another apprentice. 

Richeh is someone who wants to become a witch in her own way; what I mean about that is that she wants to be ‘original’. She wants to make her own spells and not use anyone else’s because she believes that using other people’s creations is unoriginal and just a replica. One of her original spells that she shows off is the ability to make ribbons out of crystals. Unfortunately, this mindset was seen as childish from her previous mentor, which was why she left and went to study under Qifrey. The reason why she kept on pursuing her originals was because her older brother Rili loved seeing her make originals. However, Rili isn’t present in this book aside from the flashback, so I cannot be for certain if Rili is still alive, or if he still has that same mindset as before. Because Richeh wants to pursue her own originals, she’s very stubborn because of it. She had left an abusive mentor because of her clash in ideals and when Qifrey signed her up to take the Second Exam without her consent, she becomes furious, but still takes it begrudgingly. However, because she’s adamant about using other people’s magic, she actually doesn’t know a lot of other spells that can help her in times of need, like in their situation with the Brimhat.

Agott has studied under the same mentor with Richeh, but they’re totally different. Agott is willing to work hard and go beyond her capabilities just because of her status as a daughter of the Arklaum family. She works to make them proud. Unlike Richeh, she knows a plethora of magic that helps the apprentices out in tight spots, and even knows how to grab a Brimhat’s attention by saying that Coco isn’t present. She’s smart to analyze that Coco is the Brimhat’s target. However, because she’s so headstrong, it makes her an easy target to be captured; she was almost caught in the Brimhat’s trap of engraving forbidden magic onto her, but managed to escape thanks to Richeh. Since this volume focused more on Richeh, Agott wasn’t too much of a focus; hopefully, she’ll be back to importance in the next volume.

Euini is a new character introduced in this volume. He is a negative Nancy with self esteem lower than the North Pole’s temperature. He has failed the test twice, so this is his third attempt. The reason for his low confidence is due to his master Kukrow’s abusive behavior. Despite the abuse, he stays with him because he wants his master to be proud of him. This already starts the contrast between him and Richeh. Richeh left an abusive master, while Euini stayed with his. Euini’s lack of confidence also makes him unable to draw due to anxiety. He has memorized countless amounts of spells, but whenever he takes the test, he blanks out. I can relate to him at times. I did find his anxious personality annoying at first, but then I realized that he’s a rather sweet boy underneath all the baggage. He just wants to be someone his master can be proud of, but the abuse has made it so that he hates himself the most—he even said that he wants to be someone else and not himself; that’s why he thinks replicating other people’s spells are preferable rather than making one’s own. However, he does have his own instance of making his own spells as he gave them to Richeh, just in case she needs them. His shadow cloak is a very interesting spell. However, I felt bad for what happened to him towards the end of the volume. He doesn’t deserve to be engraved a forbidden spell just when he started gaining confidence. That was a serious slap in the face.

Other than the exam, with Coco, Qifrey and Tetia, their portion is more of world building and character building on Coco’s part. Coco learns her specialty, making straight lines. Her passion for magic differs from Richeh, but I do like how these two still respect each other despite their polar differences in magic. Coco’s love for magic is a big influence for those around her. It’s making Agott be nicer to her and it’s making Qifrey soften up as he realizes that magic exists to make people happy, to which he agrees with.

Then, there is also an interesting world building aspect in this volume. Where they are used to be an ancient civilization called Romonon where the ruler decided to segregate the people and classify them into her preferences. She didn’t want ugly, poor and sick people around her, so they became of the lowest class while those that didn’t fit that category flourished. Later on, the ruler then developed a strange power to turn people into gold. The magic reminds me of how Coco accidentally petrified her mother. What I’ve learned about reading about history in fantasy stories is that the stories did happen and that the protagonists would later encounter them; lo and behold, Coco, Tetia and Qifrey stumble upon the rumored gold statues. This means that the petrified people are still alive and they have been trapped in that state for countless years; this means Coco’s mother is technically alive too. That’s scary to think about.

Also, I hope Alaira is alright. She’s too hot to die this early. Anyways, I’m excited to read Volume 5 when I get the chance. I just hope Euini can be saved. I also do wonder how Coco and the others will get out of that cave. Will they defeat the Brimhat too? If you have read this volume, what are your thoughts on Witch Hat Atelier and this portion of the story?