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makethosenarratorsfight · 10 months

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UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE C

*NOTE; Due to the length of Harrowhark's propaganda, it is out of order and below Kuzco's propaganda

Kuzco Propaganda:

The movie starts with them doing the voiceover, telling us how he'll show us that evil people ruined his life for no reason at all, before proceeding to show him fire a loyal advisor, announce to a guy he'll chase him and his whole village away from the homes they've been living in for generations, just to build a summer villa with pool for himself, have a guy thrown off a window for being on his way when he was freedancing, etc., etc. Then as his life is ruined and we get back to the point at the beginning from which he had started the flash back which took half the movie, he's like "see? for no reason!"

Harrowhark Propaganda:

She gave herself a lobotomy and gives completely incorrect flashbacks to the previous book. Things that straight up did not happen. Gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

She’s schizophrenic (confirmed by the author) and also lives in a world with necromancy and ghostly revenants. She’s not just an unreliable narrator for readers, she’s an unreliable narrator of her own internal experience. She knows this and has to work with people around her to compensate for it. Descent into spoilerville below. Seriously Do Not Read if you want to read these books. There’s also the little matter about how she is *not actually the narrator* of a huge chunk of the story that we are initially led to believe is being told from her perspective.

(Spoilers) Holy shit she is THE most unreliable narrator. This gremlin gave herself a lobotomy so that she could forget about Gideon Nav, the most important person in her life (for magic soul-preserving reasons) so half of the second book in the series is spent gaslighting the reader about a book they just read. She comes up with an entire alternate version of the events of the first book in the series to carefully exclude any mentions of Gideon, and any time someone says ‘Gideon’ in front of her she LITERALLY has a stroke and/or an intercranial hemorrhage as her brain overwrites the word with someone else’s name. God occasionally intentionally triggers her memory revision to get out of difficult conversations. She also hallucinates ALL the time (unrelated to the lobotomy). She shows up at her frenemy’s room in the middle of the night (think little kid stumbling to their parents’ room and saying “I frew up”) to ask her to come check underneath her bed for the corpse that’s been wandering the space station. When frenemy checks underneath the bed, frenemy claims not to see anything, and Harrow is such an unbelievably unreliable narrator that it’s an open question in the fandom as to whether frenemy genuinely didn’t see the corpse or if frenemy was just yanking Harrow’s chain. Harrow is also haunted by a literal ghost that fucks up her already fucked up alternate history. Girlie will pick up a piece of paper and read from it the most violent and haunting piece of prose ever composed, when in reality all that’s written on the paper is the elementary school Superman S*. I am NOT joking that is a real goddamn scene. Harrow was created to win this poll. TLDR; she has brain damage and memory loss, she hallucinates, and is also haunted. * https://twitter.com/vestenet/status/1301012651145859072

Girl is so unreliable, she unreliably tells me events I was there for!!! She's retelling the previous book and I'm like "girlie, this is absolutely not how it happened". Also, she gave herself a DIY lobotomy, it has to impact your memory center I guess

She literally had a lobotomy, how can she be reliable

Rest of Propaganda under cut!

Harrowhark is simply the unreliable narrator of all time. Can’t remember shit because of a lifetime of trauma? Check. Maybe lying to yourself and those around you a bit? Most definitely. Being gaslit by the survivors you depend on to orient you to reality? For sure. How about a little bit of canon schizophrenia? She’s got it all. Ghosts? Or something? Spirits that are attached in some way to your body and are not perceivable by others? Sure, sure! But how about spirits that are attached in some way to your body and are gonna use you to hijack others’ bodies and maybe kill God, too? Absolutely. Wee bit of DIY brain surgery? If it would make you an unreliable narrator, friends, then Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been there, been subjected to that!

Okay I don't know that much about this series since I haven't convinced myself to read all of the first book, but this is my blorbo in law so I'd feel bad not spreading propaganda (all of what I'm saying is something I've read, as to prevent myself from straight up submitting misinformation). So all of Harrow's unreliable narration takes place in the second book, Harrow the Ninth. Basically, without her even seemingto acknowledge it, Harrow's brain is very fucked up during this book, to the point where even she's not sure how reliable her narrative is. There's many questions left unclear as a result of her fucked up little brain, like what's real, what's fake, whether we can trust her judgement, whether even she can trust her own judgement, whether her original cavalier is dead or not (Harrow is convinced she is), etc. Let me tell you, I adore unreliable narrators who aren't even that sure if they're reliable. I have yet to eat that trope up here in this circumstance, but this poll might not run again by the time I do, so for now, here's my messed up blorbo in law.

OKAY SO REMEMBER MY GIDEON SUBMISSION? HARROW DOESN’T! SPOILERS AHEAD BECAUSE SHE LOBOTOMIZED HERSELF TO FORGET GIDEON BECAUSE THAT’S A HEALTHY WAY TO GRIEVE AND THEN IN THE ONLY PARTS OF HER BOOK THAT SHE NARRATES (THE REVISED CANAAN HOUSE PARTS) IT’S LITERALLY A ROOM FULL OF GHOSTS HER BRAIN SUMMONED TO DEAL WITH THE FACT THAT SHE CUT HER BRAIN IN HALF TO FORGET GIDEON. she also is a) haunted and b) psychotic, experiencing hallucinations her entire life of both the ghosts haunting her and less supernatural hallucinations- bells tolling, bones rattling, her parents (some of the only dead people NOT haunting her), etc! in the revised history of canaan house that her brainghosts invent, she brings along someone who knows about her psychosis to help reality check her when she tells him go! her caregiver as a child and support when she got older, crux, is a horrible man- but at one point, when someone other than harrow is in harrow’s body and tells him “i am not harrowhark, i am sorry,” his response is simply “aye, you’ve said that before too. who are you then, if not my lady harrowhark?” showing his familiarity with her psychosis and his love for the child he wouldn’t dare see as a daughter. but enough about that lets talk about her unreliable narration! she lies about her feelings of course but she also simply hides the truth from everyone, all the time, compulsively. also literally the entire section of her book that she narrates is a lie she’s telling US about a lie she’s telling HERSELF and no one understands even a little bit of the truth until like the last act of the book. queen.

#kuzco #disney kuzco #emperor's new groove #harrowhark #harrowhark nonagesimus #the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #unreliable narrator battle #unreliable narrators #polls #side c

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realmermaid333 · 1 year

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Do you think hijacked Peeta fell out of love with Katniss? Or did he hate her/was afraid of her but still loved her? Is post hijacked Peeta the same Peeta or a new person altogether? Thank you :)

@everlarkshipper

So I think to answer this question it would be important and helpful to first discuss what hijacking did to Peeta psychologically!

So from what we know, hijacking is when you are shown memories of a person, thing, event, etc. and you are given a non-lethal dose of tracker jacker venom so those memories become nightmare-ish and associated with fear instead of whatever else you were feeling in the memory. The venom also makes you very disoriented and confused which further convinces you that the memory is real no matter how fake it seems. Peeta also mentioned that the memories look "shiny" compared to real ones, and that is how he was able to filter through what was real and not to recover. The Capitol showed Peeta videos they had of him and Katniss together when they gave him the venom so he would be associate the scary hallucinations with her and think she was dangerous and evil.

I think it is a lot more complicated than Peeta still loving Katniss or not. When Peeta went into the torture, he loved Katniss so dearly that he was lying to protect her. He was cooperating because he did not know what else to do and was defending her, he risked his life to warn District 13 of the bombing so she would be safe. When Peeta started being hijacked, he loved Katniss more than anything else, and it was most definitely very painful and sad when the memories he had of her started to become horrifying.

Afterwards, Peeta knew he once loved Katniss, but thought he was wrong to love her and that he was tricked. He was mentally anguished when thinking about it, when Delly Cartwright (Prim in the movie) was talking to Peeta and comforting him, he was crying and confused. I'm sure part of him knew she was right, but fear is such a powerful emotion.

When Katniss talks to Peeta for the first time, he asks her about the bread and whether or not that actually happened, at the end of the conversation he says "I must have loved you very much" and then Katniss said that he did (The movie was different and had Peeta say he should have let her starve, which I hated because Peeta would have never said that to her). Peeta knew how much he loved Katniss, his mind was just so scattered and he did not know what was real and what wasn't.

So, to wrap up my point, Peeta technically fell out of love because he was so afraid of her. But he knew that he once loved her, and as the memories got more and more sorted he started to love her again. He remembered why he loved her, that it was safe to love her, and he realized she loved him too. His memories started to come back. So yeah he horrified of her, but a deep part of him still loved her I think!

Hijacked Peeta wouldn't be a whole new person all together, just very different and now mentally ill. He and Katniss both had PTSD, Katniss says in the book that sometimes Peeta would grip the backs of chairs and panic, shout, and cry. She would still have to help him sort through memories sometimes and re-explain things to him, but in the end they were okay. Peeta was still Peeta, as in he was still the boy who loved baking, painting, sunset orange, who double knotted his shoelaces etc. He has just been through very traumatic events that changed how he saw the world and how he lived on a daily basis.

#mockingjay #the hunger games #catching fire #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #peeta my beloved #peeta x katniss #thg peeta #everlark #peeniss #district 12 #district 13 #hijacking #send prompts #send asks

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seashard · 2 years

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kiriona gaia is written to be as shocking as possible.

the lead up in the novel is that pal has a clear plan. bring nona close enough and soul gravity will punt gideon back into her body and hey presto. it’s simple it makes sense. prevailing fandom theory has been that since you have her soul preserved courtesy of harrow, you have her body perfectly preserved, it’s neatly set up for her to be revived once the two are brought together.

but then they actually finally reach her corpse and there’s this awful unreality around Nona maybe ? hallucinating her opening her eyes? before she seems completely corpse-like again and nothing happens. then she does start talking but she’s so WRONG she’s callous and she’s been conscious for 6 months already and her jokes AREN’T FUNNY (her greatest sin tbh). like nothing is going as expected. so many people come out of her first scene thinking it’s an evil doppleganger or john puppet scenario bc it just seems so fake.

it’s in direct contrast to htn, where Gideon arrives at the end and brings a great sense of catharsis in “she’s finally back and she’s tearing to shreds everyone who wronged harrow over these past nine months”, but now in ntn is only adding to the confusion and pain.

when they’re in drearburgh this scene is set up so you walk in and it looks like Gideon has just killed a bunch of the ninth in cold blood, and you kinda believe it….

the deaths and resurrections in this series don’t feel cheap. in htn harrow goes through hell for the whole book to keep gideon’s soul intact. im not saying i need the characters to suffer, god knows they’ve done it enough, but you can’t expect gideon to go through everything she’s gone through and come out emotionally unscathed. other people have already talked about the difference in seeing her without her internal narration and her abandonment and loss of agency and possible ulterior harrow-saving motives etc etc (poor girl she’s got a lot going on). this is why i dont agree with theories about how harrow has the part of her soul that is her emotion and her heart or whatever. it feels like a disservice to her character to say it’s just a case of straightforward compartmentalisation and that all her problems can be solved by harrow giving her back her missing piece <3 (she also CLEARLY feels things about harrow and camilla and aiglamene)

however i am curious what is actually going on with her soul re: being restored to life/lyctorhood. TM’s comment about gideon’s happy meal soul and pyrrha’s comment would indicate that some of Gideon’s soul is still inside harrow

(Pyrrha’s knowledge tends to be pretty reliable, so I kinda believe she’s right abt this but maybe not to it’s full extent abt there being no retrieval possible whatsoever)

palamedes also gave an explanation for why a soul from harrow wouldn’t have gone back into Gideon’s body (jod’s meddling and warding to make her invincible)

if Gideon’s whole soul is restored to her body it MIGHT bring her back to life? it sounds promising but that’s what we thought about the original plan. a big part of john’s chapters is about the soul and how it’s the key element to resurrection, but then he hasn’t resurrected anyone since the main event. Unfortunately he’s very vague about the actual details of the resurrection itself 😭 so it’s unclear whether it’s a case of he can’t or he won’t. it seems like a decaying body would barely be an obstacle for him so Gideon’s not really at much of an advantage. however he’s definitely putting in extra effort for her than when she was just harrow’s cavalier she was begging him to bring back.

there’s also the question about the state of Gideon’s soul in harrow’s body. I’d say Nona still counts as being unaware of its existence and therefore not absorbing it but I’m not sure, especially since harrow did come back to consciousness in the epilogue. also the lobotomy is maybe still in effect?? but only in this one instance lol, not any of the times she actually saw gideon, but it’s a weird callback to put in.

I’d say that the most likely path is for harrow to resurrect Gideon by putting part of her own soul in gideon in an exchange like John did with alecto, but I’m not even sure if perfect lyctorhood is the endgame anymore. it’s such a controlling, sinister concept that I don’t know if it can be redeemed, but maybe like with Paul it’ll be the only option they have. idk though there are so many things answered but still so many questions 😭 like even with nona we have the vague idea that she is kind of alecto (but also she’s just. nona) but when it comes to the specifics like what are her upper and lower minds or the voice that said “fool. you’re killing her”, iunno. so i mostly just wanted to bring together some of the hints i saw. would love to know what other ideas people have!

#ntn spoilers #ntn theories #nona the ninth #locked tomb #tlt spoilers #tlt #tlt meta

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alostlittleriverlotus · 1 month

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most of all, I'm hoping that now that I'm getting some actual medical help, my mother will actually start believing me and allowing me accommodations without me having to have a violent meltdown and suicidal episode to get it because I'm triggered insanely bad. Like maybe me asking for stuff to prevent an episode IS the warning. I'm sick and tired of getting my requests and needs ignored until I have a whole ass emotional break and psychotic episode and risk harming myself because my mental state is so fucking fragile when I tried so damn hard to get me that help to AVOID THIS EXACT SCENARIO.

And maybe she'll actually start helping me get some things to aid my mobility, but who knows. I'm mostly surviving until I can move in with MA and he'll help me out, bruh. Dude. I cant. I effing cant.

I'm just so sick and tired of doing everything I can to protect my mental and physical state just to avoid some really bad episode. And with the shit I'm uncovering now, like, dude. No wonder I have such insanely bad control issues. This bitch is so much more unstable than previously thought. I try so damn hard to avoid insanely bad episodes whether it be physical pain or emotional crisis/distress and my parents don't take it seriously. Then I have a whole episode cause I'm pushed to the fucking edge and then they blame me for not controlling my emotions. I wish I could just fucking scream about all the stuff that is going on in my head, but they wouldn't get it. They barely get my anxiety, let alone if I opened up about other shit. And when I DID open up about delusions or hallucinations, my mom just brushed it off cause she experienced that too. Either she does not feel it to the same degree or she does and that's ALSO WORRYING but she doesn't see it that way or both. Like girl. I mean legitimate hallucinations and delusions. It ain't good if you're experiencing that too. But what do I expect.

I just hope this will improve my living situation until I can move in with MA and we can work together to properly accommodate me since they actually fucking believe me and don't treat me like I'm lazy and bratty and unwilling because I'm in severe pain or I am dissociated as fuck and barely feel alive. My fucking plant is less fragile than me.

Just so tired of being pushed to the edge then treated like a monster and like I'm crazy. Like thanks. You're worsening the fucking things some of my alters tell me which only makes me wanna rot even more.

Like it's been a good while since a bad episode has happened thanks to them questioning me when I'm in an extreme brain fog and dissociated state and just asking for help since I'm in so much pain. But dude. It still hurts. It still fucking hurts and makes me mad. I can't wait to move out and actually get to feel alive because someone actually fucking looks at me like I'm a person that needs help and can't do it all myself. Cause I'll be with someone that is going to help me and reassure me over the tiniest things that I've been guilted over for before. That we'll actually work to get me mobility aids and I can't wait until the day I can move around and do more because I don't have to force myself to walk as if im a perfectly functional human being with a perfectly functional body. I'm just so tired of being mistreated then made to feel like I'm crazy and I'm the abuser because I was neglected and had my physical and mental issues overlooked and blamed on me for years so much so I would punish myself. And you know what's sad? Even typing this...I feel like I'm a terrible person and I'm hating myself. I feel sick. I hate that I'm made to feel this way cause of how I've been treated since I was literally fucking 3 and 4 years old. Not to mention the system shit that I don't ever want to get into publicly due to the distress it causes me and the asshole alters in here.

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nicnacsnonsense · 2 years

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This is probably a weird scene to call out, but I cannot stop thinking about the flashback where Mary asks Stede to play with the kids.

On the surface, this scene is packed with little shorthand indicators that Stede is a bad/negligent father and husband. There’s the kids running around screaming in the background, there’s the way Mary struggles to get Stede’s attention, there’s the exasperated and almost desperate tone to Mary’s voice, and there’s Stede doing the one thing Mary asked him not to do with the kids. Except, if you look at the scene closer, it doesn’t actually fully commit to any of these things.

The kids are running around yelling, but they’re missing all the hallmarks of actually being out of control the way that the running and yelling is supposed to imply. They’re not breaking anything or making a mess or ignoring instructions from their parents/other authority figures and there’s no sign of anyone being hurt or harassed. They just appear to be kids playing. In fact it appears remarkably similar to the way Mary is playing with them in episode 10 while her narration is telling us how well they’re doing.

Now I will admit to my bias with regards to her not getting his full attention, because my autistic ADHD ass is like “give him a second, Mary! At least let him get to the end of the paragraph.” But I can acknowledge that the polite thing to do would be for him to ask her to give him just a minute him he needs it. In any case, the real lack of follow through here is that typically the distracted spouse is supposed to agree to do whatever the thing is, but then fail to actually do it as they weren’t actually paying attention. And it looks like it’s headed in that direction at first, with Stede still reading even after Mary leaves, but then after Alma sneaks up him, Stede suddenly jumps up at her and starts playing with the kids in earnest. So apparently he had been paying attention to her, even if he was still looking at his book, and he follows through on what she asks. (We’ll get to the playing pirates in a second, but suffice to say for the moment that it seems to have been a conscious choice to ignore the request rather than him not paying attention and missing it.)

Then we have Mary’s tone. The tone is a very familiar one, it’s the overwhelmed mother who does all of the childcare and all the work taking care of the household and now has something important to do and needs her husband to step up and do this one thing for once. Except outside of her tone, there’s no indication that that’s actually the situation in their family. There’s nothing that Mary says or even any visual clues to indicate that she was interrupted in the middle of something or that she has something that she needs to go do. And as far as her being the one doing all the work to raise the kids, not only is there a lack of evidence to that, if anything the little bit we do see seems to indicate that it’s not true. There’s a whole tangent I cut here since it really belongs in a separate meta about how Stede wasn’t a bad father to his kids, actually (pre-leaving in the night anyway), but the point is we only have two flashbacks with the kids in it and in both Stede was/was trying to be involved in parenting them.

Finally let’s talk about playing pirates. There is one very key moment missing from this interaction (well two, but the other one goes in that separate meta). We never see the kids actually get nightmares. The only person who gets nightmares from “playing pirates” is Stede (with getting stabbed as a key intermediary step). But Stede having fever dreams after nearly dying isn’t really sufficient to drive home any points the scene was potentially trying to make about Stede being a bad parent. And it’s not like it would have been difficult to work in something about Alma and Louis having nightmares about pirates into Stede’s guilt-ridden dreams and hallucinations. But they didn’t, which leads us to question whether or not they did have nightmares that night or if any of their nightmares in the past ever were actually caused by playing pirates or if that was just an assumption on Mary’s part.

My end point after all this is I think a lot of people watched that scene and just took it at face value; Stede is a bad neglectful father and husband. But for me there are just too many little details that just aren’t there. And in a different show I think you could dismiss that as absence of evidence isn’t evidence of absence; the point they were trying to make is clear. But this show puts way too much thought into the details for them to have missed that many things on accident. I just think there’s more to unpack here than just what’s sitting right on the surface.

#ofmd #stede bonnet #mary bonnet

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rockislandadultreads · 2 years

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Read-Alikes: The Last Thing He Told Me by Laura Dave

No One Knows by J.T. Ellison

The day Aubrey Hamilton’s husband is declared dead by the state of Tennessee should bring closure so she can move on with her life. But Aubrey doesn’t want to move on; she wants Josh back. It’s been five years since he disappeared, since their blissfully happy marriage—they were happy, weren’t they?—screeched to a halt and Aubrey became the prime suspect in his disappearance. Five years of emptiness, solitude, loneliness, questions. Why didn’t Josh show up at his friend’s bachelor party? Was he murdered? Did he run away? And now, all this time later, who is the mysterious yet strangely familiar figure suddenly haunting her new life? In No One Knows, the New York Times bestselling coauthor of the Nicholas Drummond series expertly peels back the layers of a complex woman who is hiding dark secrets beneath her unassuming exterior. This masterful thriller for fans of Gillian Flynn, Liane Moriarty, and Paula Hawkins will pull readers into a you’ll-never-guess merry-go-round of danger and deception. Round and round and round it goes, where it stops…no one knows.

Watch Me Disappear by Janelle Brown

It’s been a year since Billie Flanagan — a beautiful, charismatic Berkeley mom with an enviable life — went on a solo hike in Desolation Wilderness and vanished from the trail. No body—only a hiking boot—has ever been found. Billie’s husband and teenage daughter cope with her death the best they can: Jonathan drinks, Olive grows remote. But then Olive starts having waking dreams—or are they hallucinations?—that her mother is still alive. Jonathan worries about Olive’s emotional stability, until he starts unearthing secrets from Billie’s past that bring into question everything he thought he knew about his wife. Together, Olive and Jonathan embark on a quest for the truth—about Billie, their family, and the stories we tell ourselves about the people we love.

Somebody’s Daughter by David Bell

When Michael Frazier's ex-wife, Erica, unexpectedly shows up on his doorstep, she drops a bombshell that threatens to rip his family apart: Her ten-year-old daughter is missing--and Michael is the father. Unsure whether this is the truth but unwilling to leave the girl's fate to chance, Michael has no choice but to follow the elusive trail of the child he has always wanted but never knew he had. Over the course of one night, lies that span a decade come bubbling to the surface, putting Michael, his wife, and his whole family in jeopardy. And as the window for a little girl's safe return closes, Michael will have to decide who can be trusted and who is hiding the truth...

Then She Was Gone by Lisa Jewell

THEN She was fifteen, her mother's golden girl. She had her whole life ahead of her. And then, in the blink of an eye, Ellie was gone. NOW It’s been ten years since Ellie disappeared, but Laurel has never given up hope of finding her daughter. And then one day a charming and charismatic stranger called Floyd walks into a café and sweeps Laurel off her feet. Before too long she’s staying the night at his house and being introduced to his nine-year-old daughter. Poppy is precocious and pretty - and meeting her completely takes Laurel's breath away. Because Poppy is the spitting image of Ellie when she was that age. And now all those unanswered questions that have haunted Laurel come flooding back. What happened to Ellie? Where did she go? Who still has secrets to hide?

#fiction #mystery #to read #tbr #TBR pile #library books #reading recommendations #book recommendations #book recs #booklr

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vanilla-voyeur · 7 months

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I've had success finding a new psychiatrist that so far I gel with!

My last psychiatrist thought it was the job of the pharmacist not the psychiatrist to understand the effects of a medication. So I had to look for someone new. Shopped around and booked 3 appointments in a week with 3 different psychiatrists.

The first 2 were yikes. They didn't listen to me and they wanted to jump right into prescribing meds. One of them didn't even ask about my medical history before suggesting adding an antidepressant. (I'm bipolar so antidepressants make me manic. Including the one she wanted to prescribe because I've literally been on it twice.)

I was feeling a little disillusioned with the whole practice of psychiatry until I met with the last one. She asked me the same questions about my medical history that any other doctor would. She was interested in getting as complete a picture of my medical history as possible, asking for release forms to talk to my general practitioner and past psychiatrist to get a list of medications and results of recent blood work. She was knowledgeable about mental health from a medical perspective, but didn't let that stop her from listening to me when I said things that surprised her. I have a long history with mental illness that takes the full first hour appointment to go through. She did not prescribe any meds in the first session or make any diagnosis.

I told her that I had CPTSD and explained that it was different from PTSD. Most of the medical professionals I've come across are unfamiliar with CPTSD. Psychiatrists will often ask me about PTSD symptoms and come to the conclusion that I don't have PTSD. Which is true. I have CPTSD. They're different. She admitted that she was unfamiliar with CPTSD and that she'd look into it more before the next session.

One of the things I've been concerned about is that starting in 2020 I was getting paranoia outside of manic episodes. I was interpreting the paranoia as a symptom of psychosis. I'd had a history with psychosis, including paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations, but only during manic episodes. Normally bipolar people only have psychotic symptoms during manic episodes. If the psychosis happens outside a manic episode, then that's typically schizoaffective disorder instead of bipolar. So I was looking to a psychiatrist to confirm whether my suspicions (heh) about me having schizoaffective instead of bipolar were accurate.

Second session, she's done her research on CPTSD. She now describes it accurately and knows how it's different from PTSD. I talk to her about whether my diagnosis should change. She says that it's possible that my paranoia was psychosis and therefore warranted a change to schizoaffective. But another possibility was that my paranoia wasn't psychosis but instead induced by how the pandemic was triggering my CPTSD. She said she's hesitant to make a diagnosis change until she's had more time to talk with me about my mental health.

IMO the second assessment makes more sense. I would've never thought of it on my own without having her bring it up.

It's still early but things are looking bright. I like having a doctor that will listen to me. And I would've gone down the wrong path on my diagnosis if I hadn't talked to her to get her professional medical opinion.

#psychiatry #psychiatrist #actually bipolar #actually mentally ill #actually psychotic #actually cptsd #mental health

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pumkinbopie · 11 months

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yet another episode idea

for a bit of context, the royal academy is surrounded by a haunted forest that keeps out unwanted guests (Similar to the forest from hotel Transylvania). Later on in the t.v show it is revealed that the mind entity possesses the school and the surrounding forests, and that is where the Principle first meets the entity, but more on that later.

The whole gimmick of the forest is hallucinations, cause the entity's magic is mental, it takes your biggest fears and projects them into existence. The teachers and principle all have mind crystals that can control the forest/ school so they are free to wander as they wish, but the students don't know of the entities existence so they just assume it's haunted (which in some ways it is).

So for some reason or another the gang decide it would be a good idea to journey through the forest to they loose something and have to go get it, like Jeb kicks a ball into the forest, goes to try a and get it, doesn't come back so the rest go and look for him (the reason doesn't matter too badly but they're in the forest). Whilst they're in the forest they start seeing these figures that are the training dummies they use in their weapons training class (They move like marionettes, very head first movements). But they get separated and that's when the forest starts targeting them individually, each of the Gang is forced to deal with the thing they fear the most whether it be a tangible or non-tangible, like for instance Jeb's is being forgotten and abandoned by everyone he loves, like there is a scene where he finds his mother in the forest and she just berates him or something (that might be too much but stuff along that line). So they just go through all of that and eventually jeb is defeated by the forest and completely distraught and gives up trying to leave, until the principle and the rest can be heard calling out for him sparking a little bit of hope in him, he gets up and starts to run towards their calls, making eye contact with Pierre and calling out to him alerting Pierre to his presence. Pierre begins like full sprinting towards jeb, desperately trying to get to him as quickly as possible and practically tackling him to the ground with joy and they hug tightly, just happy that they're both alright, then everyone else joins the hug and everyone's saved.

Jeb asks the Principle why he was in the forest to begin with and he responds with something like "oh well I always like to do rounds through the forest to check and see if any students got lost" (but like it's totally cause he knew they were trapped in there cause of his connection to the mind entity) and cut to they're like in the infirmary talking about their experiences and stuff, Harper had to deal with being kidnapped, which the gang saw she doesn't cope well with the first time they got kidnapped (whole other episode and more princess lore), Rei and Elise have more tangible fears like clowns ote something (I don't know whether or not to make clowns canon in this universe). And then jeb shares his and it's all sad and stuff and asks Pierre what he saw in the forest, Pierre kinda tenses for a bit before relaxing and avoiding the question being like "Well that's not important right now, we're all safe and accounted for and I'm just happy to be out" then the school nurse and principle return and tell the kids that they're fine to leave but want to do another test on the princess just to make sure nothing bad happened to her making a joke like "we don't know what the king would do if this school was responsible for permanently traumatising his child" and she says she'll catch up with them later and goes with the principle and nurse and the door closes on them with seeing the principle start to kneel in front of her.

The gang either return to a common room or sot a class IDK but the episode would end with Pierre looking at jeb ranting about some random topic or them talking about their experiences in the forest some more intensfully before sighing and scooting closer to jeb and resting his body on a desk or something, and jeb gently putting a hand on his shoulder gently.

Then the episode would end

#t.v. show #original concept

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sankdvl · 1 year

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A little secret

Remember that i told you how i have always been very pationate and ambitious about what i do and how much i want to succeed in life, yeah, that may not be completely accurate.

Since i was a little kid to probably the first semester of tenth grade i had only dreamt about being successful, rich, independent, living in my own luxurious apartment somewhere in new york and working in a fast moving job

and then suddenly i don't know what happened from the second semester of 10th grade. i guess that reality hit me. i wasn't sure what i was doing and why i was doing, i was infact overwhelmed with assignments, exams, tests, pending work etc. i experienced a whole wave of uncertainty and anxiety whether i would be able to score good in my board examinations or not. I, my school, a few friends that i have, my parents, my relatives etc had so much expectations from me. i feared failing to live upto their and most importantly my expectations. suddenly i was being too harsh on myself. i was experiencing emotions that i had never felt before, i was very sad, i forgot eating my meals, sometimes i would go two days without eating anything, waking up seemed so hard suddenly, i felt disappointed, i would wake up crying and go to sleep crying. i don't know what happened, from a happy ambitious kid who knew what she was doing i was transformed into someone who just did not want to live anymore, i did not want to die because i had many responsibilities and many people who lovde me and i did not want to hurt them, but i wished i had never been born or somehow i could disappear from this world. nothing seemed real at that time. my depression lasted from october 2022 to march 2023. those were the most painful six months i had ever gone through

then my board exams were over and i was filled with relief. In the first week after my boards i was trying to adjust back to normal, i was trying to get out of depression, trying to sleep stress free. it was difficult to get out of the phase because i would have nightmares about me failing my exams, i felt guilty for not studying anymore even though my exams were over, i would wake up in the middle of the night thinking that my exams are not over yet and i was hallucinating about my exams getting over, i would suddenly wake up in the morning, panicking that i had to this or that chapter of mathematics etc. it took me around a week to accept the fact that my exams are over and that i can return to the normal lifestyle i had before 10th grade

Then came the honeymoon period. i was happy, i finally started getting back on my normal life, i was sleeping comfortably, eating, watching tv, cooking my favourite dishes, motivated to have a fresh start from grade 11, i felt that i could do anything. and as you would have guessed, thats when i wrote my first blog 'a little context'

But the again i from week three i realised that i was feeling the same emotions that i was feeling in oct 2022, all my friends had taken PCM or PCB and had already started coaching, they were all so busy while i was lying in my bed not understanding commerce, i tried studying commerce but everything seemed so new, foreign and difficult, i started questioning if commerce is right for me. then i started thinking about the things i had thought about doing after boards that i hadn't done, like learning French, learing how to code, and the we cancelled on our plan of getting a dog which really made me very upset, i felt that i had wasted my time. again i started losing interest in things. i was constantly thinking whether i could again become the happy ambitious person that i was before, i was scared about my result. i was going through the same process that led me to get into depression, i started sleeping till noon, lost faith in me, stopped eating because i wasn't getting hungry, i started crying, losing hope etc. But this time luckily i knew where my habits and feelings were headed so i am trying my best to not fall into the trap of depression again, i am making little progress day by day like instead of waking up at noon i am waking up at 10am, i appeciate myself even if i eat one meal a day because it is better than not eating anything at all etc, although i know i am going through a very scary and vulnerable time, i am trying to be easy on myself and assuring myself that there is still hope and at the end everything will be alright and its just a little dark phase that's going to pass soon and that i am not a failure and that can still achieve what little me wanted to achieve

#self help #academia

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novamirmirsblog · 3 years

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Favourite crime pt 2

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word Count: 2936

Genre: angsty fluff? or fluffy angst 👀

Request: yes

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, slight coercion into sex (it doesn't happen tho)

Part 1 is here

A/n: The long awaited part two is officially here. I had lots of people who wanted the reader to move on, people who wanted them to get back together and people who wanted both. Thank you everyone for your INDECISIVENESS (kidding. ily). Also Emma was a randomly generated name - I'm sorry :3

Did I write this fic instead of sleeping? Yes. I have no regrets.

It had been a year since you moved back home. The seasons had come and gone and with that, so had your thoughts of Natasha. The same could not be said for the assassin. She had spent a blissful 3 months with Bruce before he had dropped off the face of the Earth and she was missing you. By the 5th month, she had stopped moping about and tried to find you. She searched everywhere but your town was large and unfamiliar and you didn’t want to be found.

Natasha both regretted what she had said and didn't. She regretted it because she realised just how much she adored you once she saw all the areas Bruce fell short in. You knew her better than she sometimes knew herself. You knew when to back off and when to put pressure on. You knew when she needed control and when you needed to take control. You knew when she wanted ice cream or when she wanted brownies. Bruce didn't. However, a part of her didn't regret those nasty things she said because she really didn't deserve you. You were everything she wasn’t, and she didn't know how to measure up to you.

She never voiced these concerns and so they festered and grew until she believed the only way out was to cheat. She knew that was the only thing that could drive you away. Natasha had told you all about her past, how she believed the Red Room had stripped her of her humanity – of her choice whether to become a mother. She knew there were other ways to have children - of course there were, but she hated the fact they had taken that option from her.

You were not like Natasha. You voiced your concerns which is why she knew exactly what to say and do to get you to hate her. Your previous boyfriend had cheated on you with your once best friend. You had watched as your father cheated on your mother and how that made her a hollow shell for a while, her never understanding why the man she loved could hurt her in that way. Supposedly, everyone models their future relationships on what their parents’ relationship looked like. Perhaps that’s why you kept choosing the cheaters. You were content with where you were. You had a forest, a busy town, and a beach all within a 15-mile radius of your house. You were far enough from civilisation that you could forget about reality for a while but close enough to occasionally dip back in whenever you wanted to.

You had kept in contact with Tony and Pepper, congratulating them on the arrival of Morgan and insisting that they should visit. You also continued to occasionally talk to Wanda when Carol was off world. Carol was overjoyed when she found out you had started dating someone new.

You had met Emma when you were taking a dip back into reality at the local supermarket. Her blonde hair vaguely reminded you of a woman you used to know, and you guessed that’s why you felt drawn to her. It wasn’t the electrical crackle that stole your breath away like your first meeting with Natasha, but it was something. Emma could occasionally be a little controlling, but you guessed that’s what normal relationships were like. She didn’t like you going to bars or pubs anymore and you certainly weren’t allowed in any clubs. You didn’t mind it too much as you hardly minded giving up a few nights out if it meant you could have something that resembled normalcy.

“Who’s that?” Emma asked, your face illuminated from your phone as the ding rang out.

“A friend. He’s bringing his wife and new baby over tomorrow and was reminding me to baby-proof the house.” You smiled lightly as you texted Tony back. You hadn’t mentioned to Emma that you were an ex-avenger, but it just kept slipping your mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who is he? Where will he be staying?”

“I just forgot. Sorry. He’ll be staying here.”

“But you only have a single bed.”

“Yeah. I was planning to sleep on that and Tony, Pepper and the baby can stay in my room.”

“You mean our room.”

You said nothing, too engrossed in arguing with Tony about how under no circumstances will there be any celery in your house. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.

“Our room, right Y/n?”

“Um yeah.” You wave her off was apparently your second mistake, but you didn’t multi-task too well and so half answers were all you were good for while texting.

“I have been your girlfriend for 3 months Y/n. The least you could do is answer me properly and tell me what’s going on in your life.” She huffed, pushing your feet from her lap, and turning to face away from you, all of which you missed. You really weren’t having that evil green vegetable in your house.

“Seriously, what is even so important that you’re ignoring me right now!” Emma’s voice cut through the fog, and you looked at her with a blank expression. It was times like these that you really missed Na- No. You refused to go there. You didn’t miss her. You were over her.

“No celery.”

Emma threw her hands up in the air. “You seriously don’t see what’s wrong, do you?”

“No.” You tilted your head, confused at what your girlfriend was talking about.

“Well, I’m not just going to tell you! Jesus. You should know. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emma stood up in a huff, making a lot of noise while getting ready to leave.

“Okay – bye” Your attention was bought back to the phone when Tony sent you a cute video of Morgan crawling about, probably as a bribe to get you to buy celery. You stood, watching the video a few times before you shut off your phone, finally getting around to babyproofing your house.

~~~~~

Babyproofing a house was a lot more work than you originally thought. You had spent most the night picking sharp objects up from baby-height areas and making sure you hadn’t left any weapons about. All the guns taped under tables had to be relocated and you found enough change to set you up for retirement. You just hoped and prayed there were no small beads for Morgan to choke on. You didn’t even get around to putting soft corners on the edges of tables and counter tops, but you told yourself that it was survival of the fittest at that point. The whole endeavour had taken most the night which is how you found yourself with only an hour till Tony, Pepper and Morgan arrived.

There was a knock on the door, and you saw that you were 15 minutes late. Luckily your girlfriend had arrived half an hour before so you figured she could let them in. You shouted down, telling her to get the door as you finished putting on your socks.

“Hiya baby!” You cooed at Morgan babbling in Pepper’s arms, watching as her chubby hands reached for your hair, grabbing on with a crazy amount of strength. “Oh my god you’re strong. Pep, are you sure she’s Tony’s? I’m pretty sure she’s as strong as Thor.” You laughed, looking over at Tony. Your face dropped into careful neutrality as you saw the redhead standing behind him.

“Of course she’s mine doofus. We had multiple paternity tests.” Tony winked.

You didn’t know what to do. You weren’t ready. Your throat went dry as you asked if anyone wanted any drinks, your girlfriend waving them into the living room. You prepared the drinks, and you felt a presence behind you, wrapping their arms around your waist, their head resting on your back. You hated it. You felt suffocated. You took a breath and handed half the drinks to Emma, opting to grab a wine glass and fill it with the wine you had been saving for a special occasion. It might not have been a special occasion, but you needed something strong to get though the next few hours and you knew this would do the job.

You made your way back into the living room and Tony gestured to Emma “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“I’m Emma.”

“Tony. This is Pepper, Morgan and Natasha.” Your heart dropped at the mention of her name, realising that she wasn’t some cruel hallucination but was in fact standing in your living room.

“Sorry. I forgot to introduce you all.” You smiled and took another large swig from your glass.

“Hey how come you’re the only one with alcohol?”

“Because you’re a parent now.” You rolled your eyes at Tony, feeling Natasha stare holes into your face.

“So I need it even more!” Pepper hit Tony as he said that, causing Morgan to laugh.

“Don’t worry about Y/n getting drunk, she can handle her alcohol pretty well.”

“We know.” Natasha finally spoke. Her voice bought back floods of memories and you realised you missed her voice – just the tiniest amount. “Who exactly are you to Y/n?” To anyone else, the question was flippant, like asking about the weather but you, Tony and Pepper could all hear the carefully laced venom within her words and while the question sounded like it was aimed at your girlfriend, you could tell she was speaking to you.

“Where’s Bruce this fine day?” You shot back, not letting Emma speak.

“My question first.” Natasha finally turned her gaze to focus on you.

“Why are you here?” You felt Emma’s arm slither possessively around your waist. Perhaps if it had been another day, you would have appreciated it but right now, you felt like you were drowning. She held you too tight, you couldn’t move.

“Ah.” Natasha wore a smug look on her face and yet her eyes flashed with hurt. You hated that she had found out information you weren’t willing to give.

“Why are you here Agent Romanoff.” You wanted- no needed her to answer you. You needed to know why she came to you. Then you looked at Tony. “Why would you bring her here?” Your voice was level, Morgan was pulling at your leg to get you to pick her up. You used that as an excuse to escape your girlfriend’s grip.

“We need you back.”

“So you bring your baby to try and bribe me back?” You ran a hand through your hair, lightly bouncing Morgan. “That I can understand but why bring her?” You waved at Natasha, feeling both her and Emma’s eyes bore into you.

“She’s part of the team too and you both need to get on.” Pepper said.

“You were in on this too?” Your throat felt tight. You couldn’t breathe properly.

“I’m sorry but who exactly are you?” Emma asked. Natasha scoffed at her, folding her arms, and rolling her eyes.

Everything was a little too loud and muffled. It felt as if you were underwater. The sun was too bright, and it made everything a little too hard to look at. You could see your furniture, but it wouldn’t stay in your brain long enough for you to fully register it. You placed Morgan on the sofa and took a deep breath, closing your eyes to focus. When you opened them again you looked straight at Natasha.

“I am not going to play nice with you. You broke me and now that I’m moving on you suddenly decide to show up? No. I don’t believe it. Why can’t you just let me be happy? Leave me alone. Besides, I thought I was a ‘fun little distraction’.” You spat at Natasha. You were tired of being the bigger person. She had hurt you and you wanted to watch her bleed. It’s why you leant over and kissed Emma harshly, why you let out a slight moan so Natasha could hear. It didn’t matter that it was completely fake because even though you knew you should feel satisfaction at Natasha’s hurt face, the twinge of sadness upset you more than you would have liked.

Natasha knew the kiss was forced. She knew it was, but it didn’t stop the knife digging deeper into her heart. You had moved on and she had to respect that. She had said some awful things to you, and you really did deserve someone much better than her. You stormed out of the house, saying that you were going for a walk, leaving your girlfriend to entertain your guests.

~~~~~

It was dark by the time you got back. You saw Natasha on the sofa and ignored her as you walked straight to the guest bedroom. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep this horrible day into the past but unfortunately for you, you had a girlfriend sitting on the bed.

“This bed isn’t big enough for-” Emma cut you off with a rough kiss. “Emma not now-”

“Yes now. I want to remind your ex what she’s missing.” Emma went back to kissing you and you wanted to cry. You didn’t like her possessiveness, didn’t like her jealousy. With Natasha that had been fun but with Emma, it made you feel afraid.

“Emma seriously.” You grabbed her wrist, not letting her reach into your underwear.

Emma huffed and stepped back. “What’s your problem?”

“I’m really tired. Can’t we just sleep?”

“It’s your ex, isn’t it? Why is she even here? I can’t believe you were going to just let her stay here and not tell me!”

“I didn’t know she was coming!” You were both stage whispering, conscious of the fact there was a baby that most likely didn’t sleep all that often.

“Then kick her out!”

You said nothing. You couldn’t just kick her out. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Oh my god you still love her. You still love her and she’s in love with someone else. Or she was. Ha.” Emma let out a bark of laughter. “That’s so fucking rich. You know what, crawl back to her but don’t come crying to me when she fucks you over again do you hear me?”

“Emma that’s not- I don’t love her anymore. I hate her. She ruined my life.”

“You truly hate her?” You nodded at her. “Supposedly, you can only truly hate someone if you loved them first. We’re done Y/n”

“Seriously?! What? Because I used to love Natasha? Because I don’t want to have sex with you? Grow up Emma. I’ve loved people before you and at this rate, I’ll love people after you too. I’m tired. I don’t have to have sex with you. You can’t make me.”

“I’m your girlfriend! You’re supposed to want to have sex with me!”

“Well not when I’ve had a long ass day!”

“Guys, I think you might wake Morgan.” You winced a little at the addition of Natasha. You knew this was going to end badly.

“This is my fucking house!” Emma said, not lowering her tone.

“Actually, it’s Y/n’s.” Natasha calmly stated. She really wasn’t going to rise to the bait.

Your girl- sorry- ex-girlfriend, fumed next to you. “You know what? Have her. She’s so screwed over from whatever you pulled that I don’t think she can love anyone ever again anyway.” Emma seethed, grabbing her shoes, and slamming the door on the way out. The sound of baby Morgan crying echoed through the house.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You ran your hand over your face, the exhaustion of the whole day catching up with you.

“No, it’s not. I betrayed your trust over the one thing I knew you couldn’t tolerate. I knew how hurtful cheating is to you and I did it anyway. I know it’s not an excuse, but I guess I just felt like you deserved someone more than me. Someone better.”

You said nothing. You were so so tired. You missed her and it ached, but you couldn’t forget what she had done. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

“I know but please let me try again. Bruce wasn’t worth it. He only made me realise how much I love you.” Tears were filling up Natasha’s beautiful eyes and you could see just how tired she looked.

“I missed you.” You whispered out, not wanting to break whatever was being formed

“I missed you too. So so much.”

“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, but…you can have one more chance Natasha. That’s it. You get one chance at my forgiveness.”

“Okay!” Natasha sniffled slightly “I promise I won’t mess this up.”

“I’m serious Natasha. One chance. I don’t play baseball. There are no three strikes.”

Natasha gingerly reached up to cup your face. “I won’t waste this.”

“Good because I never really stopped loving you and I’d hate to be a simp.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that dove.” Natasha let out a watery laugh.

“Excuse me?” You let out a fake gasp and wiped some of the tears from her cheeks.

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you a secret.” Natasha ushered you to lean closer and you did, she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and whispered, “I’ve been whipped for you for as long as I can remember.”

You were looking forward to all the ways Natasha was going to make it up to you and hopefully, you’d get to give Bruce a good punch too. You both knew it was going to be a long road ahead but you both felt a little more ready for what lies next.

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x you #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #Tony stark #natasha mcu #mcu imagine #natasha imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natalia alianovna romanova #pepper potts

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celamoon · 3 years

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Summary: Saiki isn’t supposed to have regrets, but he thinks that letting you wither away from him was his worst mistake.

Warnings: Hanahaki, Mild mention of Star Tears, angst

You first talked to Saiki in middle school. You had been classmates with him since kindergarten, moving almost always at the same time he did. You wondered if it was the universe telling you to befriend the boy.

Your only early memory of the boy was that he was the undefeated Rock Paper Scissors champion of kindergarten. He grew to be antisocial later on in middle school but you loved his hair clips so you asked him where he bought them. He had looked at you incredulously and had told you he had them custom-made. You wouldn’t stop pestering him about them afterward, especially since you caught him red-handed burning a sheet of paper.

“Is that…”

‘Don’t you dare tell ANYONE’

“Only if you finally tell me where you bought your hairclips”

Saiki looked 100% done with you and you had stuck with him ever since.

You noticed a handful of things about it Saiki after you started being friends with him. You noticed that his eyes light up whenever he was eating coffee jelly. You noticed how despite the fact that he claimed his friends were nuisances, he still hung around them. You noticed how his eyes were a certain shade of purple, and how he was much more caring than he claimed himself to be.

You had stuck around him despite knowing that he could read minds, and he had given you a germanium ring in your first year of high school, claiming that it was so that he wouldn’t hear your thoughts. You got a bit of privacy after that, and you started to wear the ring out of habit in your high school years.

The first issue came in your second year of high school. Saiki had managed to keep himself on the down-low so far, and you had stuck around with him as his self-proclaimed best friend. Nendo was his pal after all. He had caught the attention of Teruhashi, the school’s goddess. Saiki had told you that she was far from how she seemed, but you didn’t mind that much. She was pretty, and you didn’t mind at first.

Then came the petals. At first, you thought you ate something that had petals inside them, but it became clear when you wouldn’t stop throwing them up. You had caught Hanahaki, and you were in love with your best friend. You hid them well, and you never coughed despite how much Teruhashi was trying to catch Saiki’s attention at school.

The first time you weren’t able to hold it in was during PE. Teruhashi had made a move on Saiki, and he didn’t push her away. You had to excuse yourself to the bathroom so that you could let your lungs breathe properly. It was a bigger batch than usual, and you knew that didn’t mean anything good for you.

You went back to PE as if you hadn’t just thrown up an entire basket of flower petals.

The second time came when Teruhashi visited Saiki’s family for cooking lessons. It had become a tradition for you to visit Saiki every weekend. You had walked in, almost missing the familiar tuff of blue hair. You greeted the family, and you set the coffee jelly down on the table. Teruhashi had asked you if you were into anyone and you had managed to avoid her questions while doing Saiki’s suspicions at the same time. When they turned the tv on you felt your lungs collapse and you rushed to their bathroom to let the petals flow. They were stained with blood that time.

The third time came when you visited the shrine with the two Saiki brothers and Teruhashi. You stayed with Kuusuke after Kusuo and Teruhashi managed to dodge the influx of hate, and you had started to cough violently after Kusuo dragged Teruhashi away. Kuusuke caught you and you threw up a bud before him. His eyes widened and you had brushed it off as a magic trick you were preparing. Kuusuke didn’t believe you, but he let you off that time.

The fourth time came when Teruhashi asked Saiki out on a date for summer. You had been fine with the flowers so far, and the petals were still rather small other than that one bud from the shrine visit. But you felt your stomach lurch when you saw Teruhashi asking Saiki out on a date over summer. You ran to the bathroom, missing the look of concern on everyone’s face. You threw up premature flower blossoms that time. When you got back, you told them that you had a bad lunch.

Kuusuke called you the day of the date, and he had taken you out for a drive. When he passed the amusement park and brought you in, you felt your lungs tighten and you started coughing up half bloomed flowers. That confirmed Kuusuke’s suspicions. He brought you to his lab to run a few tests, and after the x-ray scan, he was completely sure that you had Hanahaki. He urged you to make a move on his brother.

“You can’t keep this to yourself forever,”

“I can,”

“No you can’t y/n, you’re going to need the surgery unless you confess,”

“Then how about this…”

You had made a bet with Kuusuke instead, if Kusuo found out about your petals first, then you would admit defeat and you would confess to Kusuo, if Kusuo made a move on Teruhashi first, then Kuusuke would fund your surgery so that you could get rid of those godforsaken feelings for the psychic. He agreed, sure that his brother wouldn’t be able to miss the fact that his own best friend was throwing up petals. You prayed secretly that Kuusuke would win the bet so that you could live out your fantasy.

You found that it was hard pretending to be ok, you hadn’t stopped coughing up flowers since summer, and that new transfer student who was rather close with Saiki wasn’t helping. Aiura was her name. She wasn’t as pretty as Teruhashi, but she was certainly different from the others. You had stopped talking as much as before, telling everyone that you had a rather bad cold since school started.

You had caught her clinging onto Kusuo like his lover one day after school. You were waiting for him to finish school so that you two could walk home together, but you had caught him with Aiura instead. The look on his face had you make a double-take before you confirmed it. You watched as she talked about their love life with the girl with pigtails, and you had listened as she talked about how active they were. You felt the flowers climb up your throat and had run away before anything else could happen.

The final straw came when Teruhashi was noticing the differences for everyone. She had spent the entire night memorizing everyone’s names accord to Kusuo, and you had listened to him narrate the whole situation. Kusuo talked about her quite a bit by now. You weren’t even surprised anymore when he brought her up. You parted ways with him to deal with your club’s paperwork at the office and the next sight was not one to be expected.

You had won the bet. You were heading outside of your clubroom when you had saw Saiki princess carry Teruhashi to the nurse’s office with your very own two eyes. You had won the bet even though you prayed that you wouldn’t. You had won the bet and that meant you needed to get the surgery. You prayed you wouldn’t win, yet it seemed that god liked Teruhashi more as usual. You ringed Kuusuke in the middle of the school day because of it.

“Hey, Kuusuke?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I won the bet…”

Kuusuke, as promised, sent the money for the surgery to your account. Now it was up to you whether or not you wanted the surgery. You knew you did, but a part of you desperately wished that Saiki would love you back so that you didn’t need to get the surgery. You were throwing up full-on flowers by now. No longer the buds you suffered from, no longer the premature flower blossoms you threw up once. You had little to no time unless you confessed to Saiki soon.

Then you remembered that he had let out an ‘offu’ at Teruhashi. You had heard it while you were nodding at him in class. It was loud, in fact, Teruhashi heard it but she thought she was hallucinating. You remember the sound of your own heart breaking when you heard it, you felt like the world had crashed down on you. It had happened a while back, but now you were completely sure about it. Saiki was in love with Teruhashi, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

The surgery was half a success, half a failure. Your feelings had gone away for Kusuo as promised, but you lost your voice because of it. You weren’t able to speak anymore; you couldn’t talk like you used to. You went to school with tears in your eyes because of it. The first person to notice was Kuboyasu, who greeted you but when you didn’t greet him back, he asked if your throat hurt. You burst into tears because of it.

The group gathered around you at the sight of you in tears. You never showed strong emotion around them, you only helped them with their issues and bottled your own up. You let out small hiccups and Nendou was surprisingly the first one to point out how you didn’t have a voice. You typed on your phone in tears, and you held it up for everyone to see.

‘I lost my voice permanently’

The group was in shambles afterward. Kaidou was asking how, Kuboyasu offered to beat up the person who caused it, Yumehara pulled you in for a hug. The group wanted to know, and you still wore your ring so Saiki wasn’t able to read your mind. You typed that you had gotten surgery for your throat since you caught a sickness and the surgery was a success at the cost of your voice box. You didn't give them any more information after that.

Toritsuka offered to summon a spirit to hopefully help you be able to speak again but you turned him down. Aiura tried finding out with her glass ball but it didn’t work either. Kaidou pushed you for further details. You didn’t tell anyone that the surgery was for Hanahaki. Nendou offered you ramen, in hopes that it would cheer you up, you shook your head no. Not that day at least.

Saiki was in shambles at the news, how had you even lost your voice to begin with? You hadn’t done anything and unless you got surgery within the span of a weekend, you weren’t able to have lost your voice. He reaches for your hand and tries to take the ring off. You ripped your hand away with a sad smile, signing him it’s ok, that it wasn’t that important anyway. Saiki was still bothered by it.

Akechi was surprisingly the person Saiki resided in for help. He was always able to figure things out even without it being written fully for him. Akechi didn’t even bat an eye when Saiki approached him. He had actually expected it. Saiki stood there in shock as Akechi explained about your sickness.

“She got surgery for Hanahaki obviously. She didn’t have a terminal disease or else she would’ve been hospitalized for longer than that. The fact that she had Hanahaki affect her throat as well only means that she was severely affected by the flowers. I think I saw her throw up coffee flower petals once. She was throwing up behind the school while we were picking sweet potatoes with the class. She made me swear to not tell anyone but since she got the surgery I assume that she’s ok with people knowing now,” Akechi rambled, and Saiki lost himself at coffee flower petals. She had been in love with him, how dumb could be he? He was a psychic for goodness sake!

You started carrying around a tablet to communicate with people better. You always wrote down comments about certain things, and you always laughed along with everyone. It was like nothing had ever happened. You acted like nothing had ever happened and Saiki hated that.

Saiki was bothered and you figured out quicker than he liked to admit. You knew him way too well. You had walked up to him after school one day asking if he was ok. He promised you he was, but you didn’t believe him. So you dragged him up to the room and forced him to talk to you about what was bothering him. He asked you the only question on his mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You had paused. He had spoken to you with his actual voice and you frowned.

‘Tell you about what?’

Saiki looked exasperated.

“About the flowers, the Hanahaki, the surgery. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blinked at him, shrugging before writing down your response.

‘It didn’t seem important’

You figured that Akechi had told him. Saiki groaned.

“I think my best friend throwing up flower petals is very important thank you very much”

‘It’s not like It matters anymore. The feelings and flowers are gone'

“But your voice-“

The loud noise of a digital pen was heard on the rooftop. The silence was suffocating.

‘But this, but that, it’s all over anyway it’s not like it’s important anymore’

Saiki chooses his next words carefully.

“Were you in love with me?”

You pause and nod your head enthusiastically. Saiki feels his own heart break.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

‘You liked Teruhashi. All the signs pointed to it and I got Kuusuke to pay for my surgery’

Saiki’s shoulders droop. It felt like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. He reaches for you, and you take a step back. He wants you to know he loved you too, he wants to show you how much he liked you, how much he was actually in love with you.

He finds it’s too late however when you shrink away from the touch you used to cherish and love. You excuse yourself from the rooftop to meet up with Nendou and the others for your daily after-school ramen. Saiki watches your figure escape his sight. The feeling tastes bitter to him. It tasted like that cup of dark coffee he had once watched you down after pulling an all-nighter.

Saiki isn’t supposed to have regrets, but he thinks that letting you wither away from him was his worst mistake. He swears he hears the twinkling of stars when he starts crying. Perhaps this was the universe’s way of paying him back.

#saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki k #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo no psi nan #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k.#angst #hanahaki #mention of star tears #I did it I wrote the fic guys

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dorimena · 3 years

Text

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖙.𝟏

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; monoma neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 5.1k of filth,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; nsfw, Overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, degradation/humilliation, cursing, cockwarming, crossdressing, school girl kink (?), mommy kink, pegging, cum play+eating, dom!fem reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; whiney Monoma, loud sex, Monoma in a skirt, soundproof dorms, mentions of other 1B characters, aged-up character, Monoma is 18 in this

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; this was meant to just be some long fic, but I find it easier to just divide it into 2 parts while I figure out how to write out the scene I actually wanted to get to. I got carried away. This is what I've been doing during holy week. My religious school would be ashamed of me. This has been proofread, but if there are still any mistakes, I apologize.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦.; incomplete/in progress.

Monoma had a shit week.

It all started on Monday when his school pants ripped conveniently from the back as he bent down to pick up his fallen notebook. They didn’t even look like they would rip! So how did they...? All he could hear during his inner turmoil and growing embarrassment were murmurs of pity, whispers of curiosity, and his homeroom teacher calling his name countless times to send him back to the dorms to change. Permission slip in hand and underwear out, he silently nodded and made his out, all while ignoring a burning sensation in his eyes and sudden dryness in his throat.

(Walking out the doors with his blazer tied around his waist, he swore he heard a familiar giggle and mockery coming from a smart-mouthed girl.)

Tuesday came bulldozing so suddenly that it ran over him. Well, really it was Yaoyorozu’s canon that almost ran him over.

The day, in general, was normal, none of his classmates made comments about the minor incident the day before, well, except for Y/N who asked if he sent his pants to be fixed or not. (He didn’t, so she demanded him to hand it over to her.) He didn’t go back to the dorms after their last class, since he has to carry out classroom cleaning duties after he accidentally pushed Bakugou into the mud last week. No, seriously, it was an accident. First off, he didn’t see the mud. Second off, he was messing around with Kaibara’s quirk, which spooked Nirengeki who was somehow walking close by to the hot-headed explosion man- and… well, Monoma mistook Bakugou for Honenuki. For some odd reason. How insulting to his intelligence and great memory skills.

So after such a tiring task of brooming, wiping, dusting, and inspecting, he expected to be knocked off his feet with whatever Kendo decided to cook for dinner, not Yaoyorozu’s canon. God, and he shrieked! Who fucking shrieks?! He’s 18, he’s not supposed to shriek! Unless you’re pegging him just right-

Wednesday only sucked because you canceled your biweekly study session in favor of hanging out with the girls in 3A. Now, regardless of what people still say, he has matured and slowly grew out his competitiveness and “jealousy” over class A, and doesn’t really have much issue with most of them (mainly because Shinsou somehow helped him become more “friendly”). However, how dare you choose the girls over him! You’ve never done that.

(And whether or not he was moody and pouty is just a hallucination of yours, he swears it.)

The only bad thing, if you could even call it that, that happened on Thursday was that it slipped his mind how much time he had left to use Tsuburaba’s quirk and lost against his good ol’ pal.

Friday though… Friday was just really weird and he hated how it only felt weird for him. Maybe it’s pent up frustration with how the week went? Maybe it’s the pouty baby in him still being butthurt over Wednesday’s missed study date? Maybe it’s you staring at his legs and ass? Maybe it’s the way you look so delectable in your hero outfit? Maybe- well, now he was just overthinking it, and he rarely ever does! He was tempted on asking Shinsou to, y’know, brainwash him so he could forget this weird feeling of him feeling weird.

Now comes Saturday.

Today is Saturday.

Today is 10:06 pm on a Saturday.

You’re over at his dorm for the already mentioned biweekly study date. He should feel happy, considering you brought over some snacks, ordered take-out from his favorite French restaurant, even played with his hair every time you guys had the 15-minute study break.

But he’s not happy. He’s not unhappy, but he isn’t happy? Again, the weird feeling he felt the day before hasn’t really left and it’s been crawling around his skin, only getting worse when he saw you coming in with pants.

It’s not supposed to make him feel not happy, but you usually come over with a cute skirt or dress, showing enough of your thighs and panties to keep him up at night, fantasizing about them wrapped around his head, suffocating him as he eats you out so delicately or ferociously, littered with his desperate bites and kisses, making him whine out in horny pain-

“Monoma?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you ditch your phone to look over at your whining boyfriend. “You okay there?”

Shit. He must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts. “Yes, I am perfectly fine, darling.”

Now that’s weird. He’s speaking so softly, and he only ever does that after he’s cum at least a few times, or when he’s totally relaxed and ready to call it a night. Well, there are those few times where he lies and he speaks about the same.

Humming, you smile sweetly at him.

“Are you sure about that, baby boy?”

Oh, that sent a shudder through his body, his white shirt suddenly feeling too thick and his shorts feeling a bit constricting. In other words, he’s now turned on.

He stays quiet, however, because he feels like his voice will give away his actual feelings, whether it continues being soft or it decides to crack and show how he’s ready to give himself away to you.

“Neito. I asked you a question.”

“No, mommy! I-I mean, I don’t know…” He huffed out, embarrassment now outweighing his neediness. God, why did you have to pull out the mommy card?! You’re so wicked. Did you not know how horrible his week was and now you want to be mean to him?

“What do you mean by that, baby?”

“Well, I’ve had a horrible week, mommy! You should know that!”

“Don’t dare yell at me, Neito. Mommy’s trying to be patient and understanding, but if you’re going to just be a brat, then I should just leave you in time out, right?” Monoma gawked, his whole body and attention turned towards you as you got off of his bed, arms crossed and disappointment showing on your face. Really? You’re disappointed? Just as he opened his mouth to talk back, you spoke first.

“And here I brought one last gift for you. I’m here trying to be such a caring, doting girlfriend, and you start making assumptions about my efforts? Bad boy!”

Wait, gift? These were gifts? Oh! You… you were trying to comfort him? God, guess he was a bad boy.

Seeing him deflate, eyes losing whatever snark they possessed, you sigh and walk towards your bag near the door. And this made him stand up so quickly he lost his footing and slightly fell forward, shocked that you could be leaving already, which you aren’t. Startled by his sudden movement, you quickly take out a plastic bag and hold it in front of him to show the last gift.

It was quiet between you two, staring at each other before looking down at what you are holding.

“What is that?” He’s the first to speak, blinking as he tries to figure out what the dark blue item could possibly be. It’s pleated, though, so-

“Is it the skirt you’ll change into?” And you laugh, shaking your head as you walk back to the bed and sit.

“Not me, baby. You will change into it.” He’s going to be wearing a skirt?

Blinking once more in confusion, he giggles awkwardly before frowning.

“You’re joking, right?” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“No.” And you smile confidently. “I promise, if you wear the outfit in here, it’ll lead us to the actual last gift, hm?” You bat your eyelashes like a little girl asking her dad for a new Barbie doll, or whatever it is they bat their eyelashes for. You’re curious to see what he’ll do.

And you didn’t have to wait long for his decision to be made.

Sitting on your naked lap, thighs trembling in either overexertion or overstimulation, is a certain sweaty, defiled blond male with gorgeous teary, periwinkle eyes trying their best to focus down on you.

After he swiftly and elegantly changed into the outfit, it came to show on his mirror that this wasn’t some random crop top and skirt combo, but a whole schoolgirl uniform: apart from a cropped school girl top and the pleated navy skirt, there were white thigh highs and cute hair clips.

Turns out, you misunderstood his ‘subtle’ hints of some kinky schoolgirl skirt sex; you thought he was offering, with the way he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at you and stare at your skirt during lunch. Really, he was implying you stay with it on, somehow.

Regardless of who was wrong, the fact your pretty boy is squirming uncontrollably with your strap-on deep inside him is something you just have to engrave in your mind. Who knows when you’ll be able to buy another skirt his size? You can’t wait to render it useless.

“Y-You’ve been thin-thinking for too-oo long!” Monoma whines, bringing a hand to wipe away his bothersome tears he doesn’t want you to see, huffing at the end before moaning loudly as you roll your hips upwards, the tip of the dildo teasing his sweet spot.

“Mm, I didn’t say you can speak yet, did I? Guess mommy spoiled you too much.” Sneering, you shift on the bedsheets under you while placing your hands on his thighs, slowly raking your nails upwards. You try your best to avoid the white thigh-high socks, not wanting to make him ticklish and forget why you’re even touching him there.

Monoma shakingly gasps, squirming even more as he tries to have his pathetic, precum weeping dick grab the attention of either one of your hands but ends up staining the clothing covering it. Rolling your eyes, you smack the hairless skin hard enough to watch it quickly flush red and hear him groan, whether in pain, arousal or both.

“Stop it. You’re making me angry with how selfish you’re being. Isn’t mommy supposed to be satisfied first? Or did you forget our rules, baby?”

“N-no! No! No, I- no!” Is whining all that he can do? He’s been whining or moaning for the past hour, with the occasional groans or gasps. You don’t want him to only whine, you need to see him cry.

Cry prettily as he did on Monday when he thought no one was looking back at the dorms. Watch him struggle to keep his whimpers of humiliation at bay. Make him forget all about his silly pride and stupid competitiveness against a class who doesn’t really see him as a threat, but just a crazy motherfucker (or so says Hagakure.)

“No what, Neito? ‘No mommy! I do know the rules!’ or ‘No mommy! I forgot the rules!’ C’mon, baby. I thought you knew how to speak properly? Now you’re making Bakugou seem eloquent.”

Oh no, you’re upset at him. Monoma gasps in offense, though, at the implication that the anger and pride-driven Bakugou is better than him at speaking. Ouch, okay, that actually kind of hurt but it was kinda hot? Kinda not? What’s wrong with him?

Yeah, what’s wrong with him? You’re expecting him to go on with his speech of how Bakugou isn’t anywhere near his expertise and social skills, how he’s clearly more coherent than the other, or the typical ‘how dare you’ sentences. What you didn’t expect was him to whimper and clasp his hands together as if asking for forgiveness so soon.

“No mo-mommy! I do know! Th-The rules, th-that is! I know ‘em!”

“Then you’ll stop moving so much and let mommy continue marking you? If you do, and I’ll be repeating this for the last time, Neito, mommy might let you cum first, mm? Sounds good?”

“Ye-ES!” Okay, maybe you should’ve waited until he answered to land another slap on his thighs, although this one was close to his dick. Oh well, at least he’s making other sounds, but no struggle or tears.

Leaving nail marks around the pale, smooth skin, even carving your name on both thighs with light scratches, you’re in awe at how he’s trying not to move too much. Then again, he is your sweet baby boy, who thrives and gets off of making you proud of him and cumming because of him.

Lifting your eyes from the satisfying reddening skin to his face, you’re struck with awe again: finally, as if some god were listening to your wishes, you see him blinking rapidly as a new batch of tears quickly accumulate on his lashline and slowly trickle down his red cheeks before being furiously wiped away by him. Seems like this has been going on for a bit, seeing how his eyes are slightly red and his hands, clasped back together, if not tighter, look kind of wet. He didn’t want you to know he was trying not to cry and then failed so beautifully.

Gosh, and here you were expecting him to be a brat, to defy your authority over him, to challenge you like he usually does.

(If only you had some mind-reading quirk, you would’ve known he actually had been planning his next moves.)

“Good job, baby! You let mommy mark you so pretty with her hands, and look! Mommy’s name is on your thighs, so that next time you touch yourself you won’t forget who you belong to- I mean, who you’re a baby boy for.”

You’re basking in happiness, in pride, in complete bliss while he thanks you in small whimpers, hips twitching and hole clenching around your strap. Right, you forgot how long he has been cockwarming you; guess he deserves an even better award. He never manages to hold back for so long when sitting on your silicone cock.

Rubbing your palms around his thighs without moving your stare from his face, you command him to put his hands to use and lift the hem of the skirt, getting a good show of a new dribble of precum dropping heavily onto your pelvis. His dick is even shaking just as much as his body, pulsing even more than any other past encounter. It’s also competing against Kirishima’s red hair for the title of the “most red thing ever to exist”.

Monoma’s opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in question and silent begging.

“You can speak now.”

“M-Mommy, you pro-hah-mised t-to make hn-me cu-um!”

“...Watch that tone, little boy.” You glowered before continuing. “Remind mommy what she promised you and explain why you deserve it.”

Now you’re being unfair again and Monoma doesn’t want to deal with how you’re suddenly trying to milk out his responses to the way you want. Crossing his arms and glaring down at you, he mutters, “Wh-why should I? Did y-you forget?”

Humming, you move your hands to his hips, rubbing your thumb on the cheap material covering them before beginning to lift him off, at least trying to. “Guess mommy should go back to her room since her baby boy decided to be a little bitch.”

“No!” That’s startling on both your ends hearing such a loud, anguished tone come out of him. Bottom lip trembling and quickly putting his hands to grip tightly at the skirt, Monoma holds back a sob.

“I’m so-sorry, mommy! ‘m not a-a, um, little b-bitch. I’m sorry.” Ending with a whisper, he slowly puts all of his body weight down on your lap, wanting to keep you there and make it impossible to lift him off, and hangs his head in defeat. (Really, it’s because of shame, but you’ll never hear that from him.)

Do you not realize how hard he’s shaking? He can feel his heartbeat in his ears and hear it from his brain. He’s all sweaty and flushed red, his pupils dilate every time you look deep into them. He’s seen the way your eyes light up when glancing at his weeping dick, and he loves how wet it looks, it feels, it sounds, whenever he shifts.

Most importantly, other than his neglected manhood slowly turning a shade of purple, his prostate has been teased for so long that he just wants to ride you hard enough to find bruises tomorrow and hypothetically ‘destroy your cock’.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what I want to hear. I’m not going to repeat what I asked for.”

Gulping to ease down the shame building up in his body, he lifts his head enough to catch your gaze before softly responding.

“Mommy, um, promised I-I get to cum… she’ll m-make me cum if I-I stopped movin’ s’ much.” Goddamn it, Monoma, get yourself together! “I d-deserve this be-because I stopped. Was a g-good ba-um, baby boy.” He loves hates it when you make him do this, even if not often.

Satisfied with the answer you’ll probably only ever hear once and as clear as possible, you nod your head.

“Then fuck yourself on my cock, Neito.”

No need to repeat yourself. Every little noise he tried so hard to hold back, every twitch and shudder he tried so hard to subdue, every twist of his face to show off the agonizing pleasure is quickly overcoming his insides and dick.

He’s whimpering so loudly, so shamelessly, as he bounces greedily on your lap. Loud and wet skin slapping against each other, and you at first thought, through every lost huff of air, that it’d be his ass connecting to your lube-covered thighs. Instead, your eyes shift towards his crying cock, the way spurts and spurts of precum are left on your lower abdomen, how this furiously blushing extremity keeps slapping itself onto you with every one of his desperate bounces. It’s even wetter than moments ago, you would’ve thought it’d be lube.

Monoma opens his eyes, which seemed to have closed at some point, and looks down at your face, huffing out airy whines of ‘what’, not knowing what you’re looking at. His dick has been wet with his precum for the past hour, so what could be new?

Until he looks down at himself and is mesmerized with how his dick, heavy with unreleased cum and flushed with blood, is tainting and slapping against your beautiful skin with his horny juice- wait, how stupid is he to refer to his precum as ‘horny juice?’

Stupid enough to forget to close his mouth and make his built up drool mix in with the mess below, his whimpers and whiny moans turning into high-pitched cries of your name and loud moans, a normal person would worry about their neighbors. The more he stares at himself, the louder he gets and the sloppier his hips gyrate.

Until he suddenly feels the tip of the toy punch against his prostate.

“Ahn! AGAIN! A-aga-again! Nngain!” Monoma screams, eyes crossing and welling up with old and new built-up tears, ready to drip down. He’s gripping and pulling the hem of his skirt in all directions, his hands never staying still even when a light rip could be heard upon a harsh pull. He recreates the same move, thighs quivering and tensing, begging to be closed. Each accurate hit to his sensitive spot forces out a louder cry and threatens his tears to let loose.

His movements get sloppier and lazier. Seems like he’s tiring out, which isn’t good. Sure, you’re hoping to make him cry with pretty tears and ugly sobs, but you were also hoping to make him do so repeatedly. Then again, if he’s tired out, there wouldn't be much fight or snark from him and maybe you can still make him cry freely.

Good thing you know how to execute fantastic sneak attacks against him.

Under the pillow where your head is situated, you reach for a not-so-small device that kind of looks like a walkie-talkie. Monoma sees this when trying to focus his sight, tensing up at the thought that maybe you were recording this for some benefit or blackmail. But why would you want to blackmail your own boyfriend? Had he done something not to your liking?

The answer came in the form of loud buzzing and sudden quaking starting from deep inside him.

“Wh-wh-wha-what is- hnngh, st-sto-op!” Monoma wails out, almost falling onto your body with how powerful the vibrations are churning hot inside of him. His vision is getting blurry, blocked by the tears that finally, finally are let go and kiss his cheeks with every hot trail left behind.

“You, oh, want me to stop?” He can kind of see your wicked grin, the mockery in your tone and amusement oozing out making him let even more tears fall. Why would you want to stop?

“St-sto-op?! No? N-no! No! P-pluh-plea- nnnghh!”

Ah, so he’s gone dumb. He doesn’t realize he said to stop. Well, now you can either continue watching him break on your lap and admire the waterfall of precum and fresh tears and make him continue working for his orgasm; or, you can tease him some more while turning up the intensity of the toy, now that it’s pleasuring you for once. The way it tickles your clit is enough to make your panting much more noticeable and thighs tense. You wonder how a setting at 4 could already drag out such reactions from the blond male. Enticed now, you decide to go with the second choice.

“P-pluh-plea…? Didn’t think y-you’d be stupid! Where did m-my smart-mouthed baby go? Ugh.”

“N-n’where m’mmy! ‘m h-here- Fuck! Fuck, pl-please! Please! Mo-more? Nngh!”

“You’re slurring, b-baby. But, you a-asked politely.” You hover your thumb over the ‘+’ button, hips grinding upward to drag out some more tears, more cries, more whimpers as you melt into the bed.

“Mommy’s g-gonna count to 10, al-alright? Ugh, then you’ll c-cum, mm. Understand?”

You’ve never seen so much eagerness come from Monoma before, well, not unless it’s because he knows he’ll win at something or get to prove his worth even more. But the way he nods reminds you of a bobblehead: empty in the head, cute to look at.

“G-good. Don’t forget t-to keep riding m-mommy’s big, th-thick cock.” You then lower your voice, sending shivers down his spine even with how hot he feels. “Understand?”

You don’t wait to see more of his eager nods. You press down on the button until it reaches the maximum intensity, which makes your hips jolt up so harshly, thrusting the silicon toy back up to him that it’s enough to make him squeal. Now that’s new.

As much as you’re enjoying how satisfying the stimulation is on your wet cunt, you can’t help but moan out loud Monoma’s name as the boy’s reduced to short-lived squeals and rapid hiccups, so rapid that you’re beginning to think he might be hyperventilating. Worried, you bring your thumb to reduce the intensity before feeling him grind so desperately on your lap. So without any more distractions or hesitations, you quickly begin the countdown.

“Ten.” Monoma repeats with a strained moan, his hands flailing about as he tries to grab purchase onto something, letting go of his ‘forgotten’ skirt.

“N-nine.” Monoma finally plants his trembling hands onto your shoulders, pinning you down enough to give enough strength to his arms. Hovering over you, you frown at his skirt-covered dick.

“Ei-eight.” Monoma tenses his thighs as much as possible to stop the shaking. Even if it didn’t do much, he begins riding you again with more vigor and desperation than previously. A high-pitched whine of your name quickly leaves him as his sensitive dick receives friction from the fabric covering it, the stain that had dried over time reviving as more precum marks it.

“Seven- shit.” Monoma’s trying to look down at you. He can’t really see much of anything, not with his tears never stopping or his mind not setting back into an intellectual phase. He can barely think to say anything else but lewd chants of your name and ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘faster’. It’s not until he moans out a timid “f-fu-ugh- fuck!” that you pay mind to the rapidly growing heat in your stomach.

“Six! Fuck, Neito!” Monoma’s continuous chants and growing volume suddenly sound babbled as he drools down on you, his saliva hitting your chin before you growl up at him. No words are exchanged as he swallows the liquid that had accumulated, although with difficulty. His thighs are beginning to burn and shake with exhaustion, quaking even worse than when he was cockwarming you. His riding turned into hard bouncing, finally stealing your breath away physically and providing some movement on the other end of the silicone toy to press harder onto your clit.

“Fi-five!” Monoma’s eyes cross for the second time, staying longer in that position as he chokes on his scream, all because you’re beginning to meet up with your own thrusts. Your feet planted on the bed as you let go of the control for the vibrator, gripping onto his hips tightly to match him with you. You’re beginning to moan so sweetly, gasping out his name loud enough for him to-

“Cl-clo-ose! F-ugh-fuck! Fuck! Clo-oooose!”

“Ho-hold it! Hold i-it, baby, a-almost the-there!” God, the heat is growing so deep in you that you know this will be violent.

“Four- shiiit.” Monoma’s sobbing now, ever since you told him to hold it. Mission accomplished, so far. He’s blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears and allow him to actually see you. He needs to see your lewd faces, ignoring the fact he is probably rivaling yours. The intense need to cum is building up far too quickly for him to even catch up and he just wants to cum right here, right now. But if he does, you’ll punish him. So, he tries his best to hold it.

“Three! Three, Neito!” Monoma’s trying so hard to not cum, to not even think about it, but how can he if his prostate is being overstimulated and his cock keeps receiving such familiar friction, enough to make him sob even louder. He’s not going to make it.

“T-two! Lif-ft your sk-skirt!” Monoma can’t or else he’ll fall on you. But you’re grabbing onto him so hard that he hasn’t felt the need to support himself on your shoulders. Using whatever energy he has left, he throws himself up to his old sitting position, making his bouncing sloppier and unsynchronized with your thrusts. He quickly grabs onto the wet hem, biting his lip as he tries to swallow and control his sobs. Lifting it, he’s rewarded with the sight of his slick covered cock, so red and noticeably throbbing that his eyes slightly roll to the back of his head.

“One! Fuck, one!” Monoma’s mouth opens wide, his throat constricting as every choked moan and cry tries to escape while his ass begins to tighten alarmingly fast around the toy. He jumps when he feels something wrap around him, quickly looking down at himself again to see, then feel, you viciously stroke him. And that does it.

“Cum.”

Monoma gasps as he relaxes his thighs and lets go. One more hit to his prostate and he’s…

He’s quiet.

Your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you watch him reach his orgasm: on you, in all his beautiful glory, is Monoma Neito. A guy whose back is arched at a certain angle you’re sure it’s uncomfortable. A guy whose nipples are completely being seen through the drenched crop top. A guy whose mouth is leaking trails of drool, but not as much as his eyes are leaking streams of unstoppable tears. A guy whose face is so red and sweaty, his bangs are striking to the skin and his eye color pops out more. A guy whose only warning of his cum leaving his body, as much as his soul had, is to roll his eyes so violently to the back of his head and convulse forward.

You forget about your orgasm as you try your best to support his body in the current position, not wanting him to fall on you or backward. Well, maybe you should’ve let him fall onto you.

His cum spurts seem to be gold medal Olympians in ‘how far can we reach’ and ‘how much can we be’. The first one barely misses your eyes, but the second one hits you on the forehead. With each spurt leaving his twitching cock, Monoma hiccups whiney and loud words of gratitude and mercy, hips jumping up, torso jolting forward. His knuckles are white upon the unforgivable grip he has on his absolutely ruined skirt, slowly but surely being dirtied with each load forced out of him with the still-buzzing toy inside him.

This whole scene is enough to remind you about turning down the intensity of the vibrations while grinding slowly, both to help milk him out his incredibly overwhelming high and to bring you back to the tip of paradise.

By the time he’s done, he nearly collapses on you but first lifts himself, somehow, off of the toy before leaning back onto your lifted thighs. He’s still twitching, the color of his face slowly coming back as his eyes dry up from the tears. The socks have moved a bit down on his legs and most of the pretty hello-kitty themed hair clips are barely fastened on his hair. You’re pretty sure some are littered around the bed.

Monoma’s eyeing his mess curiously and taking in a cum-covered you before he scoops up some of his cum, tastes himself and you both moan softly. You turn the toy off, still rolling your hips as much as possible to ride out your harsh, hot, and wet orgasm. You’re pretty sure you somehow squirted, but that doesn’t matter too much right now.

Because the moment Monoma came back to his senses and made eye contact with you, you find yourself living in a slow-motion picture: with a shaky hand, he uses the same fingers to write down his first name before scooping up as much of his excess cum and, without any warning, moves forward to thrust his fingers in your mouth, dragging the pads of his fingertips down onto your tongue as you swallow.

Pulling his fingers out slowly while giggling breathlessly, his signature smirk grows onto his blissed-out face.

“H-how do I ta-taste, m-mommy?”

#bnha smut #mha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub bnha #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

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troquantary · 3 years

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Cutting Hair as Punishment in the Twilight Saga

Okay, I’ve been trying to organize my thoughts around this into a sort-of-essay format for a while, because I find it disturbingly mean-spirited: Meyer has a pattern of using hair-cutting as a form of punishment for characters, especially female characters, who fail to embrace Bella and the Cullens with open arms. I’m talking particularly about Leah and Lauren, both of whom, while not outright antagonists like Victoria or James, are situated along with Rosalie as “against” Bella throughout the series. The Quileute pack, meanwhile, is situated largely “against” the Cullens, meaning Jacob and the rest of the pack get the Haircut of Shame, too.

(Also, I’ve been creeping through @panlight ‘s blog because I thought she had a recent post relating to this -- I was probably thinking of this submission and her addendum, which does discuss Meyer’s “punishment” of certain characters, but that post was about characters suffering for not waiting for True Love, or daring to do the Devil’s Tango before marriage. Still, it’s on-theme and very much worth reading, like all her stuff!)

So here’s the general outline: first I’m gonna talk about the shapeshifters and how their overall lack of choice frames cutting their hair as something forced on them and therefore punitive. Then I’m going to discuss Meyer’s FAQ response where she reveals that Lauren was tricked into cutting off most of her hair over the summer before New Moon, and how this adds an extra fun misogynistic element to the hair-cutting theme with respect to Lauren and Leah. I also use way too many words to do it, sorry.

Punishment | The Shapeshifters Are Given No Other Option

I don’t have the background or knowledge to discuss the significance of long hair to indigenous culture and identity in detail, and my understanding is that different tribes ascribe different meanings to it. What I’ve read it about it suggests that, generally, long hair represents strength of one’s individual spirit and of the community. It’s a source of pride, and is only cut off voluntarily in extraordinary circumstances, often as an expression of grief, or to mark a significant life change.

This sort of works in the context of the shapeshifters all cutting their hair -- phasing into a giant wolf, discovering the existence of the supernatural, and assuming the role of protectors is a major life event for these characters. But the negative associations make it a troubling choice on Meyer’s part, and that’s without even getting into the problem of her imposing her own worldbuilding onto the legends and culture of a real tribe. Because of the lack of choice involved in becoming a shapeshifter, the whole situation feels like a scenario in which the Quileute characters have their hair forcibly cut -- a degrading and traumatic act that (depending on their particular tribal belief) might symbolically sever them from their sense of cultural identity and connection with the rest of their tribe.

It all kind of begs the question: why does Meyer even have shapeshifting work this way? What narrative utility is there in having the length of their hair in human form determine the length of their fur as wolves, thereby compelling the shapeshifters to cut it so it isn’t a physical impediment? It’s another sign of the changes in Jacob, sure, but he’s already being uncharacteristically cold and distant, plus suddenly has the physique of a fit twenty-five-year-old; Bella already knows something’s very wrong. His short hair is just another jarring thing for Bella to notice and mourn, like the loss of Jacob’s “baby face” and general sunniness.

It does work as a symbolic thing, representing another sacrifice Jacob has to make and the change in how he now has to perceive himself -- but he’s already got a literal giant wolf form to represent that change in identity/self-perception. Forcing him to cut his hair too just feels like piling on. My argument here, which I hope will be supported when I discuss Lauren and Leah further in, is that it’s not just piling on, but actively punitive -- because much like Leah and Lauren are “against” Bella, the pack at large is “against” the Cullens pretty much through the end of the series.

The Quileute pack is definitely not a Cullen fanclub. The entire purpose of their existence is to destroy vampires, and the truce they have with the Cullens isn’t friendly. They still don’t particularly like or trust the Cullens even after allying with them in Eclipse, and in Breaking Dawn Sam is fully prepared to go to war against them to enforce the treaty. Bella expresses frustration with Jacob and the pack for not appreciating the Cullens more, yet is curiously less willing to scold Alice, Edward, or Rosalie when they call the Quileutes dogs and complain about their smell. (I think she might reprimand Edward for it at some point, but I don’t remember the exact passage.) Bella even starts throwing around “dog” and “mutt” as an insult herself -- I think we know whose side ol’ “Switzerland” is on, here, and whose side Meyer is on as well. The Quileutes aren’t exactly enemies, and in fact are crucial to the Cullens’ survival in both the newborn and Volutri conflicts, but they’re punished nonetheless because they aren’t wholeheartedly Team Cullen from the get-go.

So to explain why I’m so convinced that there’s a link between hair-cutting and punishment in particular, let’s talk about Lauren. There’s a definite gendered element to it this time, too -- by being tricked into cutting her hair, Lauren isn’t just diminished/shamed, but rendered (*thunderclap*) unfeminine.

Lauren Was Rude To Bella Like Twice, Let’s Humiliate Her

I think Meyer’s answer to the question “What happened to Lauren’s hair?” on her FAQ page speaks for itself:

Ha ha. I had fun imagining this one—I only wished that it had fit into the book somewhere. Lauren fell victim to the “model discovered in the mall” scam. An alleged modeling agent approached Lauren in a mall in Victoria, B.C., and told her she was a natural model. Lauren ate it up. The agent told her that if she did something edgy with her hair, and took some high quality head shots, her future was assured. Lauren followed the instructions—dropping fifteen grand on the pictures taken by the agent’s partner—and waited for her career to begin. She’s still waiting. Snort.

It’s pretty obvious that this was done spitefully. Here’s the list of Lauren’s crimes against humanity Bella at this point in the series: 1) she was jealous of the attention Bella was getting as the new girl; 2) she talked behind Bella’s back once, saying Bella might as well just sit with the Cullens now (and she isn’t wrong); 3) she eyed Bella “scornfully” the day of the La Push beach trip; and perhaps most damningly, 4) she’s blonde.

Post-haircut, she has the gall not to be thrilled that Bella’s deigning to speak to the lowly non-Cullens again, then sides with Jessica after Bella uses Jessica to make a point to her dad, is shitty company, and then risks getting them both raped and murdered in Port Angeles so she could get off on her hallucination of Edward’s voice.

I think it’s pretty common knowledge that long hair is tied to patriarchal notions of femininity and attractiveness. Women with short hair are still derided for being ugly, or assumed to be lesbians in a derogatory sense, or simply considered less feminine and therefore less desirable/worthy (because a woman’s worth depends on her desirability, after all). For many women and girls, losing their long hair -- whether because of illness, or gum getting stuck in it, or whatever -- is very upsetting and a hard blow to their self-esteem. Just look at Alice as an example of Traumatic Short Hair; her hair was shorn like that because she received electroshock “treatments” in an asylum. (Although in Alice’s case, I don’t think her having short hair is punishment, but a facet of the traumatic backstory all female characters in Twilight have to have for some reason. Plus, she started the series with short hair, which distinguishes her from the pack and Lauren, who were tricked or compelled into cutting their long hair during the series.)

But Lauren’s so bitchy, so she deserves it, right? Ha ha, she was mean to Bella and cared about her appearance too much, so now she’s ~ugly!

Leah Has It the Worst and It Makes Me Want To Burn Everything

The misogynistic aspect of hair-cutting as punishment is taken up to like, twelve with Leah. Not only does she suffer for being “against” the Cullens along with the rest of the pack (and Bella, too, so extra sinning), but she suffers uniquely for being the only female shapeshifter. A bunch of teenage boys regularly see her naked body against her will. Her previously devoted boyfriend imprints on her cousin/best friend, Sam dumps her and can’t even explain why, and the whole pack -- including her own brother -- resents her for being upset about it, even though she can’t help the lack of mental privacy. Because of that same lack of mental privacy, she has to hear every gripe the boys have about her, plus every enthralled thought Sam has about Emily while she’s still deeply wounded by their breakup.

She blames herself for her dad’s death, because she phased at the wrong time. We don’t get any indication that her fellow shapeshifters or the elders are trying to reassure her otherwise.

And of course, because she’s a shapeshifter, she has to cut her hair. In addition, because Leah’s a woman, this has the same misogynistic connotations as it did with Lauren. In Leah’s case, though, the de-feminization is compounded by her sudden infertility. It’s clear that Leah attaches her sense of womanhood to her fertility, rightly or wrongly -- she bitterly calls herself a “genetic dead end” in Breaking Dawn and thinks of herself as a freak. She feels like there must be something wrong with her, some un-womanly flaw, that made her one of the shapeshifters at all.

Then, just when Jacob starts to see her as a human being worthy of compassion, he imprints on Renesmee and doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything else anymore. No more bonding with Leah, no blooming friendship to help her heal and come to terms with the new realities of her life. (This is one of those dropped threads that aggravate me to no end -- what was the point of having Leah opening up to Jacob, or starting Jacob on the path of realizing he was being a dick to her this whole time and that she’s a person with value, if he was just going to spend the rest of the book as Renesmee’s love-zombie and never think about it again? Disgusting.)

Leah was a lot more forgiving of Jacob than he deserved at that point in the story, for all the good it did her -- I think she’s mentioned maybe once in Book 3 of Breaking Dawn. At least she got her god-tier moment of yelling at a deranged, pregnant Bella Swan.

Speaking of Bella...

I’m just going to note, for no particular reason, that in Breaking Dawn we get to hear explicitly that Bella’s got hair that falls “almost to her waist” and that she looks like “a freaking supermodel” because she’s so “beautiful and pale.” It just strikes me as a telling contrast at this point.

#twilight renaissance #i stared too long and the twilight abyss gazed back #leah clearwater #lauren mallory #jacob black #the wolf pack #long post #i felt myself getting petty about bella okay -- i'm aware it's happening but i have no self control #i also know i sidestepped the racial element to this and it's because i don't feel qualified to speak on it #so any additions from more knowledgeable people on that score are much appreciated

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avenirdelight · 3 years

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Do You See It? | PART 1

Jack Grealish

Part 1 | Part 2

She thought that Jack, her ex-boyfriend, was drunk when he called her saying “I miss you” at 12.10 am. But he wasn’t.

She got herself comfortable in her bed, leaning back on a stack of pillows, wrapping almost her whole body with a blanket. It was already past midnight, but she was wide awake. She would let herself sleep late tonight since she had nothing to do tomorrow. She thought that she could catch up on the ongoing series she had been watching for the past few weeks. She had missed two episodes and she didn't think that she could handle any more spoilers from her friends.

The eighth episode she put on her laptop had just started when she heard her phone rang. She paused the show and abruptly sat up straight upon seeing the name that was displayed on her phone screen. Jack. Without a red heart following his name because she had renamed his contact name after they broke up.

Her heart stopped for a second, before it started to beat so fast; she hated it that she still reacted like that. It had been months since the last time he called her, just a few weeks after their break up. The last time she saw him was a month ago at Dele's birthday party where she barely even spoke to him. So the fact that he was calling her at 12.10 am definitely raised questions in her.

She was contemplating whether to take it or not, but she considered the possibility of it to be an emergency, even though the possibility of her being the person he calls for emergency was little to none. But a voice in her head told her to pick it up. So after taking a deep breath, she answered the call, carefully saying hello.

"Hey. Am I waking you up?" His tired voice answered.

But his answer definitely was not what she expected.

"I miss you. And I wanted to hear your voice, so I called," he finally said.

It took her a few seconds before his words could completely sink into her mind. She thought that she was dreaming or maybe hallucinating, or maybe she heard it wrong and her brain was playing a trick on her.

"Pardon me?"

"I know you heard it. Don't worry, you heard it right."

She felt like her brain wasn't working anymore. She didn't even know that she had let an awkward silence take over as she just spaced out, while the word 'I miss you' was playing on loop in her mind. He really did say it.

She chuckled nervously before realising that he was silent on the other side, actually waiting for her response. The first thing that popped up in her mind was "Are you drunk?" and she said it to him.

He let out a little chuckle. "No... No. I'm very sober right now. Tired, but sober."

"Then where did that come from?"

"Everything, everywhere. I mean, I still see you everywhere. At the places we used to go, in my house, falling asleep on my couch. You remember the tea place we went to for your birthday? Last week I brought my mum there and all I could see was you sitting by the window, you couldn't stop giggling because you fell in love so hard with the pie."

"You still live in my mind and I hope it's not wrong that I don't want to change that," he continued. His voice was soft with a hint of bitterness in it. But he sounded certain, determined, like he wanted her to understand that he was serious and sure of what he was doing. "I think we shouldn't have given up and let each other go, we shouldn't have ended just like that."

Her heart clenched when she heard his words, because she knew that she had been feeling and thinking the exact same thing. In fact, she had been reluctant to really let him go, still holding on tight to their beautiful memories. Those nights where she found herself opening her hard disk full of footage of them together, those stolen times at work where she spent staring at their photos on her Instagram archive, now she knew that she wasn't being miserable alone.

She had been hoping for one call, one message, or one encounter to happen. Just one more chance to figure out if their love story had an alternative. Now, that long awaited one call had finally arrived.

"Do you see us getting back together?" he asked after a while. He sounded more gentle, hoping that he wasn't scaring her off with his words. "Cause I do. I'm really sorry for putting you on the spot, but to be honest with you, I'd like your honest answer now."

She remembered how the butterfly in her stomach felt when Jack confessed for the first time two years ago and demanded an answer from her right away, not even giving her time to calm down from all the overwhelming feelings he had given her. Now he did it all over again and she was having the exact same reaction.

"I do. I've thought about it." She appreciated his honesty, and it was only fair for her to reply with honesty too. The thought of them getting back together had always been resting at the back of her mind, and sometimes she let herself ponder over it as she wondered if his heart still belonged to her. She never thought that tonight she would find out that the feeling was mutual.

"Okay, then. That's all I need," by his voice, she knew that he was smiling.

She bit her lower lip as she pictured him in her mind. She was pretty sure that he was sprawled on his sofa, being relieved because his spontaneous midnight call didn't go wrong, while the dim light in his living room illuminated his little smile.

"Well, maybe we can talk about it. Are you free tomorrow morning? Let's get breakfast together, what do you say?" he confidently asked.

She felt her stomach flutter once again, feeling a little bit silly because it felt like she was being asked on a first date, as a smile grew in her face.

—

this had been sitting on my drafts for a few weeks as a 509-words short one shot. it’s 4 am and i had been spending the past 2 hours re-writing it. i love this one for now, might change my opinion when i wake up, but i hope you like it☺️

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #jack grealish one shot #footballer one shot #football one shot #jack grealish imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #one shots #imagine #fanfiction #avfc #aston villa #avenirdelight gif

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