#can you tell im a psych major

[woodlaflababab]

Aang, Psychology, and the Concept of “Running Away” (A Breakdown Of Aang's Trauma Responses)

So, one thing that always kind of threw me off about atla was Aang's ignoration and dismissiveness of the things that have happened to him and continue to happen to him. He never seemed to have any kind of trauma response (besides nightmares).

Recently I've realized that the ignoration is Aang's trauma response, and it runs pretty fucking deep. Aang shows a lot of trauma responses but they are not as noticeable because Aang is also ridiculously good at emotional regulation, to a toxic point imo, and probably due to his upbringing by monks.

Aang, as is pretty well covered by the show, has a problem with trying to 'run away’ from his problems. This steadily stops happening as much throughout Book 2 (though he is learning in Book 1), but what's interesting is, while his tendency to physically run away from problems ends, his tendency to emotionally run away increases.

We go from Book 1 in which Aang confides in Katara about the separation from the monks, to Book 2 in which Aang literally actively rejects attempts at comfort in favor of an emotional shut down, to Book 3 where, after the failed invasion, Aang immediately tries just about anything he can to avoid talking about it.

He's not necessarily 'running away’. He still owns up to his duty and is right on the ball when Zuko shows up to teach firebending. It is not the work he shies from, it is specifically talking about the failure. This is Aang's main trauma response. Before I delve deeper into that though, I want to talk about Aang's other trauma responses that get bypassed thanks to his ability to ignore them.

Quoting ‘What is Child Traumatic Stress’, “Traumatic reactions can include a variety of responses, including intense and ongoing emotional upset, depressive symptoms, anxiety, behavioral changes, difficulties with attention, academic difficulties, nightmares, physical symptoms such as difficulty sleeping and eating, and aches and pains, among others.”

Aang shows almost all of these at one point or another, and typically they show themselves when he finds himself incapable of mentally 'running away.’

Intense and Ongoing Emotional Upset: 

I'm mostly eyeing the avatar state episodes. His immediate reaction to traumatic events he is helpless to is explosive anger, but it fails to be ongoing because it is immediately followed by a shut down. 

- Aang on Zuko's boat. In this episode, while fighting with Zuko, Aang shows some pretty intense fear and his first (technically second) experience with the Avatar state is for survival and driven by fear (also, notably, a repeat experience of the same thing that caused the actual first experience). Yet, as soon as Aang is off of Zuko's boat, he's melancholy for a hot second and then turns on a dime and starts talking about the adventures they can go on. Avatar State -> Shut Down/dismissing or ignoring the problem.

- Aang at the Southern Air Temple. He starts off in deep obvious denial, like this kid is so obviously blocking. Then he sees Gyatso's body, goes into a rage and grief induced Avatar state, gets pulled out, can no longer use denial as his mental defense, and so once again turns to shut down. He's expressionless as he comes down, and when he's fully out he's just kind of tired and speaks with a soft almost toneless quality. He's admitting to the trauma and yet there's a numb resignation to it. He's not emotionally connecting with it. We see him after with Momo and Appa smiling and just being like “we gotta stick together :)”. That's not the appropriate response to admitting there's only three survivors of your home. Avatar State -> Shut down/dismissal

- Aang and General Fong. Aang experiences an extremely distressing and helpless situation while he watches Katara, one of two whole people in his life, be buried. He goes into a rage induced Avatar state, again, and then literally 'nope's out of the situation with help from Roku. And when he comes back, he shuts down. He doesn't react emotionally, he once again speaks in that soft, even, almost dead tone, apologizes, and dismisses the event. I mean, the way he addresses General Fong, the person who just caused this whole thing, is extremely chill, almost uncharacteristic. Just a simple, “you're out of your mind” with a tone that could make you think he was having a casual conversation with someone who just suggested eating cereal out of a cup. And then he's good! Momo comes back and he smiles and everything is all good again. Avatar State -> Shut down/dismissal.

- Then we have the desert, one of the few times Aang does not shut down immediately, but then it culminates in the Avatar State and he stays like that for a bit but once he comes down, his faces changes again, to what is almost resignation, like he's given up on being mad, which really, he has as we see later. And then the next episode and he's playing in some water, but as soon as Sokka brings up Appa, we see the face and tone that's now kind of familiar: soft, dead, dismissive. He's once again refusing to emotionally connect and is downplaying it. Avatar State -> shut down/dismissal.

Depressive Symptoms/Anxiety:

He shows fits of both, though these aren't as evident because, again, most of the time he's in an emotional block and ignoring the problems. But when he cannot ignore the absence of his lifelong companion, he has a long period of anger followed by a numb depressive state, he literally talks about giving up hope. He is entirely hopeless at this point.

And then when he cannot ignore the Day of Black Sun coming in a few days, his anxiety goes through the fucking roof. 

However, these don't last long and that'll connect to me talking about emotional regulation later.

Behavioral Changes:

Aang changes A Lot over the course of the series. Book 1 Aang is very distinct from Book 3 Aang (though we still see the core traits of him throughout). He becomes more hyper focused on doing his duty, tends to fall to the background when he can, generally takes on a much more somber demeanor.

Difficulties With Attention:

This one's not really huge. He has about the same amount of attention focus in Book 3 as he does Book 1, if not improvement.

Nightmares:

I don't think I have to explain this. Aang goes through multiple fits of nightmares.

Difficulties Sleeping or Eating:

Once again, I look to Nightmares and Daydreams, one of the few times Aang is unable to shut down or block. He cannot sleep for the life of him. I have plans to go back and pay attention to eating habits in Book 3 in order to potentially add onto this joke meta, but I would not be surprised if there were signs of a lowered appetite, even if the writers did not intend it.

Aches and Pains:

He doesn't ever complain about this but also like, would he? Even if he was experiencing them? Kid tried to fight people and fly through a storm while newly recovering from a lightning injury. Aang gives no shits.

Then the article also covers childhood PTSD diagnoses which I'd also like to go over real quick. “the child continues to re-experience the event through nightmares, flashbacks, or other symptoms for more than a month after the original experience; the child has what we call avoidance or numbing symptoms—he or she won’t think about the event, has memory lapses, or maybe feels numb in connection with the events—and the child has feelings of arousal, such as increased irritability, difficulty sleeping, or others.”

Most of these I just covered, but I think it's notable that numbness is also mentioned here, the exact symptoms I've been talking about. Avoidant, won't think about it, numb in connection.

And just to be sure that everyone is on board let me go through some other examples of Aang shutting down:

Katara brings up the 100 years and Aang immediately blocks that shit. It's literally too big for him to conceptualize, so he dismisses it as okay because he has a new friend now and moves on and doesn't think about it.

The Northern Air Temple. I think most people agree that the lesson in that episode was wrong. Aang had every right to be angry. There's nothing okay about taking over and destroying 100 year old artifacts of a nearly extinct culture. We see Aang react to this with a numbness. There's even a moment where he's just frozen and uncomprehending. “This place is unbelievable.” “Yeah. It's great isn't it?” “No, just unbelievable.” He reacts with anger later (notably when he feels like he can do something instead of being helpless), and then when he can no longer do anything, he once again just rejects any negative emotional turmoil in favor of that “it's fine” attitude and accepts what the people have done.

Then the desert, one of the few places we don't see him shut down immediately. Except, literally the next episode is all about Aang's hardest shut down yet.

There are other examples but I think you get the point. He does this A Lot.

Okay cool, so we've covered the denial and trauma responses part, but how does emotional regulation play into this?

I'm glad you asked.

So, when I was first considering Aang and this whole thing, I thought Aang exhibited emotional dysregulation, especially in regards to the Avatar State, but then I actually did some learning on emotional dysregulation and realized, actually, no, he doesn't. Emotional dysregulation is mostly characterized by emotional responses being out of proportion with the event, but I think we can all agree, pm every time he goes into the Avatar State, that emotional response is uh, rather warranted. Now, Aang does, in these moments, show the lack of control that can come with emotional dysregulation, but also like, who wouldn't.

Considering Aang's behavior outside of the Avatar State Outbursts, he's actually very good at emotional regulation. Scary good, in fact. Number One in the reasons I say this is everything I said above. The ability to shut down is often an active choice. Aang does not like who he is when he is upset and, outside the initial outburst, has a pretty firm grip on his emotions. He shows anger at times, but they are in appropriate places with more or less appropriate responses. 

The Desert stands out so much because Aang loses the control he normally has. This is where we see him lose his grip on himself and he spirals.

He rarely shows grief. During his lessons with the Guru he passes all the chakras with amazing ease because he legitimately is that good at controlling and managing emotions which, like I said at the very beginning, I attribute a lot of that to him being raised by monks. I mean, he's a 12 yr old who is skilled in meditation. I don't think it's a stretch to think the monks taught him other such things.

He doesn't react to small things that would normally piss people off. Examples include The Headband when he gives absolutely zero shits about the bully, and The Southern Raiders where he accepts Katara trying to steal Appa and doesn't react to Zuko mocking him and his culture. 

Aang also, paradoxically, can be pretty good at expressing emotions when he needs to. He's typically very emotionally intelligent, with the exception being pretty much any trauma. He will react to basic things in the moment and is unafraid to show frustration or anger or uncertainty, as long as it's Not connected to a thing he is distinctly Not thinking about.

And one of the most damning examples of his emotional regulation skill, that is actually the scene that started me thinking about all of this, is the scene with Koh the Face Stealer. 

That scene threw me off so much because I felt like it was incredibly out of character for Aang, this incredibly expressive kid, to be able to show no emotional reaction. It didn't make sense and for a long time I dismissed it as just, the writers thought it'd be cool so he did it. But of course, I can't let things lay, so I never really stopped thinking about it until I realized, in context of everything I've talked about before, it actually makes perfect sense.

Aang is emotionally expressive by choice. He has the ability to control his emotions and responses to a ridiculous degree. He knows how to be emotionally intelligent with basic things, where to express emotion and how to do it. 

(Of course, he's not perfect. There are plenty of times he acts out, the Bato episode being the first thing to come to mind, but even there, after just a few hours, he has wrestled with his jealousy and responds appropriately to guilt, he owns up to it. He does try to explain himself but when Sokka makes it clear he's not going to listen, Aang does not continue to press the point. He accepts Sokka's decision, does not lash out, and for once doesn't shut down or exhibit happiness soon after. He is sad and expresses it without shoving his emotions onto others. For a 12 yr old, this is fucking impressive.)

Aang was taught well by the monks, but the one thing they couldn't teach him was response to trauma, and that's where he falters, but that emotional regulation means he's not going to respond in a typical way. Instead, he turns to denial as his coping mechanism of choice and uses those skills he learned to achieve a workable state of being but through unhealthy use.

Where am I going with this? Idk. Nowhere really, I just wanted to talk about Aang and psychology tbqh.

Anyway, I will finish this up by a fun delve into Things He's Probably Going To End Up Suffering From:

Denial can lead to memory blocking, where it's more than just not thinking about it, the brain actively suppresses and alters memory to cope. Adult Aang's recollection of the Ozai year is probably not going to be super accurate. Would not be surprised if someone was like “hey remember that time you were almost executed by a town for your past live’s mistakes?” and Aang just went “No???” and legit has no recollection of any such thing.

Selective numbing will eventually turn into collective numbing. You can selectively numb for a temporary period of time (which is how people fall into the trap) but eventually your brain will start to numb everything, not just the bad things. At the very least teenage Aang absolutely goes through a period of dissociative complete numbness.

Speaking of dissociation, if you're not going to react to trauma the normal way, dissociation happens. It starts as a coping mechanism but like with numbing, it cannot remain controlled and will develop into something. Aang will have a dissociative disorder, I'm telling you. Which one? Idk, but I assure you, it'll be there. I'm leaning toward some basic depersonalization/derealization and/or OSDD type four where trauma and meditation accidentally mix for the worse.

So yeah, there you go, a breakdown of Aang, his trauma responses, his emotional intelligence, and the consequences of those two things put together.

I'm gonna be a nerd here and add shitty citations but this is mostly in case you're also a psych geek and want to read things.

“What Are the Dissociative Disorders”. International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation.

“Developmental trauma: Conceptual framework, associated risks and comorbidities, and evaluation and treatment”. National Library of Medicine.

“What is Child Traumatic Stress”. The National Child Traumatic Stress Network.

[skrunksthatwunk]

"hey HEY what do you have in your mouth!!! sit SIT. SPIT IT OUT GIVE IT—" but instead of talking to a dog it's me about my parents using the word overstimulated as nothing but another way to make fun of our anxious traumatized dog for doing things they find inconvenient or unreasonable or illogical (and, by extension, everyone who uses the term for legitimate reasons). (WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM!!!!!!!!!! AND ALSO WHERE THE FUCK DID THEY HEAR IT BECAUSE I DON'T USE IT AROUND THEM On Purpose BECAUSE I KNOW THEY'D BE ANNOYING ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

[dennisboobs]

oh yeah, i love the always sunny book! my favourite parts are the insane cringe-inducing mischaracterization present in every single one of the "audio transcription" sections, the prioritization of shocking, edgy, gross-out humour over actual funny jokes... and you know, i gotta give props to the admirable work of reducing characters to one singular bit, especially charlie's cheese thing, which, while funny in small doses, is absolutely HYSTERICAL when talked about nonstop over several hundred pages. also love the implication that charlie regularly disposes of corpses for the gang. and the addition of slurs in a book that came out in 2015, long after the show dropped their usage, is also really cool.

but at least dennis

[eddiesghxst]

finishing some human geography notes and thinking about eddie fucking himself into you as you lay on your back or tummy and he tells you to read the textbook or your notes out loud because he likes to hear your breath stop in between sentences. plus he gets to hear how smart u r. and then he finally just rolls over and tells u to shut ur big smart brain off and go dumb for once

i am a comm major with a psych minor for public relations but i love my history stuff!!! any of those subjects works for me 😖😵‍💫🐱✊

stink….im feeling things🥴

he’s got you on your tummy, a pillow folded under your chest so you can be comfortable as you read over your notes. his knees are pressed into the mattress on either side of your hips, warm fingertips pressed into the soft flesh of your hips and ass.

your cute little skirt is flipped up so your ass is on full display and eddie’s core twists with pleasure when he smooths his hands over your ass to spread your cheeks, groaning at the sight of your wet cunt gripping his cock with every slow thrust he gives you.

he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying now— he was at first, but now he’s too close to cumming, and when eddie’s close to cumming his brain is shot to shit.

it’s your hitching breath that causes him to snap out of the daze your pretty cunt has put him in.

he presses in deep, cock twitching at the sound of your small whine as you stumble over your words. he squeezes his eyes shut, gathering the little strength he has to force himself to pull out, softly patting your hip as he strokes his wet cock once, “alright, smarty pants,” you whine as he spreads your sticky folds apart, “sit up i want you to ride me.” he breathlessly says, giving you a gentle pat to your cheek before shuffling over to sit against your headboard. fluffy pillows and the dizzying scent of your perfume surrounds him and he has to squeeze at his sensitive tip to reel himself in as you clumsily turn over.

you’re fucked out and dazed when you settle over eddie’s thighs, a tiny ghost of a pout taking over your lips, “but… i didn’t finish the chapter.” you point out. your eyes are so glossed over from arousal and pleasure that eddie coos as he reaches out to drag you over his cock, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you slide your cunt up and down the slippery length of his dick, his ruddy tip catching your clit every now and then, and eddie thinks your noises are the cutest thing each time it happens so he keeps doing it.

“we’ll finish later, baby. need you to cum on my cock right now, can you do that for me?” he presses your hair back and thumbs the warm skin below your eye and you hum with a nod of your head.

he hums in approval and nods down to where your your crotches meet, “sit on it, sweetheart, take me all the way down.”

he’s gently guiding your hips as you lift up to line him with your entrance, softly caressing the skin beneath your skirt as you sink down, taking him inch by inch until your clit is pressed flush against the coarse hair on his pelvis.

eddie thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever set his eyes upon, and he can’t help it when he reaches up to push your flimsy cropped shirt up over the hills of your chest, palming at the soft and warm flesh of your tits and moaning when you wriggle against his hips.

“my baby’s so fuckin’ smart. gonna ace your exam, aren’t you, honey?” he coos. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you nod, lifting your hips just to sink back down. he sighs, head resting against your soft pillows as he squeezes your hips. he curses before clearing his throat, “how about this,” he starts, “why don’t you shut off that pretty little smart brain of yours for a little while and let me make you feel good, yeah?”

god, you’ve never agreed to something so quickly in your life.

[pepperonijem]

to.you || Levi Ackerman

Synopsis: When your friend Eren invited you to come see the new band he joined play at a frat party, you didn’t realize you’d also be seeing your cold and dry project partner from your psych class singing love songs… much less singing them about you. Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader Content: College!AU, Guitarist!Levi, alcohol mentions, frat party mentions, no smut, I included scenes where Levi is soft (idc if its ooc, im the one writing it), I didn’t mention what major reader is, and no use of Y/N because I’d rather get eaten by a titan A/N: I was inspired after watching AOT middle school and listening to the song She’s the One by Monsta X and then Soft Spot by Keshi. Obsessed with the idea that Levi only knows how to express himself through songwriting.

the playlist → I have each song listed in the order it appears throughout the series, and I'll update as we go :)

2024.12.12 completed!

Chapters:

I. i wish that you and i lived in the sims ↳ (Sims; Lauv)

II. the song’s about to start (can you feel it?) ↳ (Buzz; Niki)

III. tell me your favorite love song ↳ (Completely; Jaehyun)

IV. 'til there was you ↳ ('Til There was You; Imaginary Future)

V. you know i got a soft spot for you ↳ (Soft Spot; Keshi)

[heys0ulmate]

veneration (this faith's got me high)

pairing: sofia falcone/gigante x f!reader

summary: sofia isn't the same anymore- but you've waited too long for her to care.

warnings: uhh .. unnegotiated/dubcon, gun usage, slight bondage, passing out, im sure im missing stuff, not proofread, major abuse of italics sorry lmao

word count: 4.6K

A/N: this is the first part of what i PLAN to be a series, tho im not sure when the next part(s) will be out. i legitimately havent published a fic in over a decade so im sorry that its like. poorly structured LOL. not much smut in this one sorry yall. title from holy by zolita btw. also this was posted prematurely by accident cus it was still in my drafts but oh well

〰️

You don't recognize the room you're in, but you feel no danger. All you feel is giddiness and bliss.

There's something warm next to you. Sofia.

Her red, pretty lips are moving, corners curled up slightly, but you can't hear her. You laugh despite the fact, because it feels right. The joy in your chest overwhelming.

She's closer, now. You're laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. It's getting hard to breathe.

Sofia cups your face. She looks scared, but you still can't hear what she's saying. You can't speak- all you can do is laugh and choke for air.

The room changes.

It's crowded.

You spot Sofia from across the galley.

Something in you tells you to run to her, as fast as you can, like you'll die if you don't. It's an all-consuming type of panic, the inability to breathe slowly creeping back.

You push past the crowd, but the more progress you make, the larger the room seems to grow.

The crowd parts, and you see her. She's leaving the room, hand in hand with her father. Her lips are parted in a scream that you still can't hear.

"Sofia!" You shriek, running as fast as you can now that the people have cleared a path.

You're inches away from Sofia and the grip her father has on her when you suddenly hear her voice loud and clear from behind you.

"She's not here anymore."

You bolt up from your bed, gasping for air and flailing under your blanket, desperately trying to wrestle it off.

It takes a minute to gather your bearings.

"Shit," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your eyes.

It shouldn't phase you. You can't remember a single night in the past ten goddamn years that you haven't woken up from a some sort of dream-turned nightmare about Sofia. But something about this one seemed to stick to you like summer heat, an uncomfortable, lingering sensation that seems to amplify the harder you try to ignore it.

"She's not here anymore."

It rings through your head like a catchy song as you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water.

In the ten years since Sofia was taken from you, you haven't heard her voice even once. You weren't allowed visitation as a non-family member, and phone calls were prohibited for the same reason.

It was almost if the sanctions had carried over into your psyche, some form of cruel punishment that prevented you from hearing her even in your dreams.

At least you were able to see her at night.

You'd never grown used to the inevitable, debilitating dread that suffocated you each time you awoke, but you still looked forward to falling asleep each night, knowing it'd grant you a brief illusion of having Sofia by your side again.

"She's not here anymore."

You try not to think to hard about it, to instead appreciate the blessing of being graced with her voice, even if it was just subconscious. You tell yourself it's probably just a result of the weeks recent events; the flooding of Gotham city. The death of Carmine Falcone.

The impact of it all must have rattled you.

That's all.

But... you can't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more.

It's then that your phone rings on your bedside table. *BRRR*

You set your water cup down with a huff, shuffling your feet slowly towards your bedroom. You're in no rush to pick up. Who the fuck call at this time of night; and without warning?

In your experience, this meant one of two things: the call was your basic, run of the mill scam attempt, or a reporter who had found your number and was desperate for some kind of story. Not that you'd ever give them one, of course. Even when Sofia was still around, and your relationship was somewhat in the public eye, you never discussed anything with journalists of any kind.

After Sofia was sent to Arkham, the scrutiny on you had increased. You went from being the occasionally mentioned girlfriend of Carmine Falcone's daughter, to 'the woman who loved The Hangman.'

Generally, the public saw you as a pseudo-victim; someone who had been manipulated by The Hangman, paraded to maintain a false image, and used as a front to keep Sofia's cover. They didn't believe you when you claimed to have been with Sofia on three of the nights that those women were killed. "The poor girl- who knows what that woman subjected her to, to make her lie for her?"

The year following her arrest was the peak of your exposure. You were relentlessly assaulted with press whenever you went outside, and you had to change your cell phone number four times.

Everyone was dying for an inside scoop on what it was like to know The Hangman intimately.

By the second year, you were more comfortable leaving the house. You moved just outside of Gotham, and slowly, the pressure for statements and interviews died down the longer Sofia was away. You still get the occasional phone call, someone hoping that now that it's been 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years, maybe you'd be willing to share your 'story.'

You'd hang up immediately every time, until you got to the point where you just stopped picking up.

*BRRRRR*

You approach your bedside table with every intention to hit the reject button, squinting at the brightness of your screen in the dark of your room.

That's when you see the caller ID.

*000*

You pause.

So far, every telemarketer, every scammer, reporter, and journalist, were listed as either Unknown Caller, or a string of numbers.

The only time you received calls with three digit numbers was when it was Alberto.

A part of you hesitates. Alberto does this, sometimes, though it's become more sparse over the years: he goes on a bender, gets too in his feelings, and calls from a nurner phone and leaves you a barrage of voice and text messages. It's always the same, with him going on coked-up rant about how he's going to get Sofia out one day and wrong everyone who wronged her.

Outside of that, though, Alberto never called. When Sofia was sent away, Alberto had begun simultaneously spiraling and attempting to survive and thrive in the Falcone family. Between the drugs and job, Alberto became a lot more isolated than he used to be. Any attempt on your part to reach out wasn't successful. He stopped responding from the number you'd had saved, keeping communication one-sided.

Still, every week, you texted him the same thing at the same time. Sunday, 9AM, an hour before you knew Sofia had visitation hours. Tell Sofia I love her, please.

You'd never get a response, but you never really expected to, either. You had no way of confirming if he was seeing your messages. The only way you knew Alberto still even thought of you or knew your number was with the increasingly infrequent, triple digit ID calls.

Either way, the occasional drug fueled messages always left you feeling even more depressed. Knowing Alberto was suffering just as much as you didn't bring any sort of comfort; it just reminded you of your own pain.

*BRRRRR*

Between the unease from your dream and timing of the call, though, every instinct in your body is telling you to pick up the phone.

Your hands tremble as you clumsily smash the answer button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" You wait with baited breath as you hear Alberto on the other side of the line. "...'Berto?" There's nothing but silence for a moment.

Then, you hear him clear his throat. "I, uh-" There's a pause, and a sniff. "I'm gettin' her out, [Y/N]."

You're heart pounds almost painfully. "Y-you mean-"

"Yeah," Alberto confirms with a disbelieving laugh, as if he can't wrap his own head around it. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time, confirming everything you've wanted, pleaded, prayed for, for ten years. "She's comin' home."

The news breaks two days later.

Two days of silence from Alberto after he dropped that fucking bomb on you.

You aren't sure if you're in shock, or if it literally hasn't quite hit you yet. Maybe it's because, despite a part of you accepting you'd never see her again, you always had faith in your heart that she'd come back to you. That naive hope kept you alive for ten years.

You aren't sure what to do with yourself, now. You've grown so accustomed to just... existing. Holding hope, with nothing to really do with it. This sort of feels likes that, but with more anticipation knowing what's to come.

Except, it doesn't.

She comes home, yes. You watch the reports about it, read the headlines, hear the outcries. But you don't see her. You don't hear from her, or Alberto, and you're resigned to waiting for one of them to reach out.

After a few days, you grew impatient. The anxiety you'd felt from waiting around had turned into a sort of panic, an all consuming need to make any attempt to quell your nerves.

Why hadn't you heard anything? Had something gone wrong? Did they forget?

You'd gone to the Falcone residence. It was fucking packed with news casters, journalists, rioters and spectators. It had taken you a while to shove your way through the mob, and when you had, you were turned away like everyone else.

You went back the next day, and the next, and the results were the same.

And then, Alberto dies.

You think the shock will return, but all you can think is Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Your Sofia. Your girl, who must be hurting so tremendously right now, who you can't cradle and comfort.

It seems your deep seeded need to be by Sofia's side reignites some of your more rational thinking, though, and you consider your options.

The crowds of cameras and protesters should disperse by the time the sun goes down, you'd assume, giving you more of a shot to see her.

So, you decide to return to the Falcone's late that evening, when the moon has settled and the stars are at their brightest.

Despite the time, it seems the family is well awake, as all the lights can be seen as you walk up the driveway. You hear voices, though you're too far away to tell if they're shouts from behind the walls, or conversations outside.

Soon, two of the guards notice you approaching. "Hey!" One hollars, hoisting up his gun as he stalks towards you. "What are you doin' here? You got business with Luca?"

You should probably be more concerned about the possibility of being shot by a paranoid guard, but your adrenaline is pumping too hard to care.

"Uh- no, I'm- I don't," you stutter. "I wanna see Sofia."

As the second guard approaches, you hear a soft chuckle. "Ah, yeah, I remember you," he drawls, before turning towards the other man. "Used to hang around Sofia," he explains to him, making the other relax his posture slightly.

"She's not available," the first one grunts, "probably won't be for a while."

Being turned down does little to deter you. "So she's here? Just, not available?" You ask hopefully. They don't get a chance to respond. "That's fine. I can wait."

You make a bold move to squeeze past them, speed walking over to the grand stair case in front of the house with purpose.

Behind you, the guards bicker. You don't hear what they say, outside of something about 'letting Ms. Falcone decide,' but based on the lack of pushback, you assume the one who remembered you was suggesting the other guard leave it be.

You're perfectly content to sit for as long as you need to. You've waited a decade for Sofia; you can wait a few hours- or even until the morning- to finally see her after all this time.

To your surprise, though, you only wait for about 45 minutes.

The front doors of the mansion swing open, and you hear the click of heels stomping down the steps.

"Fuckin' pricks," someone mutters, and you immediately recognize the voice.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stand on shaky legs, and you can't turn around to face her fast enough. You almost lose you balance in the process, but catch yourself in time for Sofia to notice your presence.

She has a cigarette halfway to her lips as she stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face.

You blink.

She blinks.

"You're..." her voice sounds empty for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little, blinking hard a few times and huffing. "What are you doing here, [Y/N]?"

You open your mouth, but your brain is moving a mile a minute. Nothing comes out, and you just gape at her like a fish for a few moments. "Uhhhh..." you trail off dumbly, but you're too frozen to even feel stupid about it.

Sofia rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says as she resumes her walk past you, lighting up her cigarette as she does. "I'm not staying too far from here at the moment."

You practically trip over yourself in your rush to follow Sofia. It's a bit of a struggle to keep up with her pace, but you manage. The car is parked at the end of the driveway. A burly man is propped against the hood, and he moves around to the back door when he sees Sofia quickly approaching. He opens it for her with a quick acknowledgment as she slides in smoothly, and remains silent as you clumsily follow suit.

Sofia keeps her eyes fixed out the window as the man gets into the drivers seat. You can't help but stare at her, though, something akin to awe making it impossible to look away.

A few minutes into the drive, you see Sofia tentatively shift her eyes towards you. She looks on guard, as though unnerved by your eyes on her.

Still, she says nothing. Her gaze stays trained on the passing scenery for the remainder of the ride, like she's stubbornly making an effort to ignore your blatant staring.

Sofia hardly waits until the car is parked to unbuckle and hastily exist the vehicle once it's pulled in front of her building. You rush to get your door open, jogging a little to catch up to her.

You're paid no mind as Sofia struts inside and walks to the kitchen. It's almost like you're invisible, a silent, unseen witness.

Sofia moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, retrieving a glass and wine bottle that she pops open, pouring a sizeable amount. She takes a long, long sip, her head tilting back until the contents of her glass are almost completely gone.

Then, she sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she embraces the warmth of the alcohol.

Finally, she looks at you, indifference written all over her face. "You didn't give me an answer earlier," she states simply.

You take a small step forward. "Sofia..." You blink hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

Sofia is looking at you. You see her. You hear her.

You take another step, and another, until your knees buckle in front of her. "Sofia," it's an almost reverant sound that makes Sofia inhale sharply.

She's so close.

You wrap your arms around her legs as you kneel before her, nuzzling against her thighs.

"Sofia," you say again, just as softly.

You can breathe again. After ten long, dreadful years, you finally feel like the air in your lungs is pure and real.

Sofia freezes. She's unsure of how to process this.

You're here. In front of her- willingly.

It feels wrong; you bowing before her when you have no idea who she is anymore.

"Cut it out," she mutters, lightly pushing your head away and taking a small step back.

You remain on your knees, looking up at her with half lidded eyes.

The adoration in them makes Sofia uncomfortable.

"Get off the floor," Sofia says, her tone indescribable. "You aren't an animal." She turns to top off her wine glass, takes a sip, and leaves the room.

It takes you a minute to gather yourself, but you slowly move towards the direction she headed in. You find her in a room down the hall, an open, office-adjacent space. She's sitting on a loveseat in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead as she sips away.

You pause in the doorway to observe her for a minute, wondering if she's aware that you've followed. You decide to let your presence be known, taking a few confident steps forward.

Sofia doesn't look at you when she speaks.

"Whatever you're here for," she starts, "you won't find."

"No," you find yourself saying. "No, Sofia, I..." you trail off as you come closer. "I... I just want you."

Sofia's jaw clenches. "You don't know what that means anymore," she spits, before taking another sip of her wine, attempting to grow the irrational anger brewing inside her.

There's a certain, panicked heat that comes over you then, feeling unheard and misunderstood. "No, no," you say hastily. "No, Sofia, please," you drop in front of her again. "Please, Sofia. I don't care what that- what that means. All I care about is you."

Sofia scoffs, her temper getting the best of her. She grips your hair without thinking, pulling your head off her lap to look up at her. "You want me to show you what it means?" She hisses, eyes wide and manic. "Okay. Take your clothes off."

You're momentarily stunned, not expecting Sofia's request. "What? Ah-!" Sofia yanks your hair again, gritting her teeth as she speaks. "Take off your fucking clothes," she repeats.

Her tone sends you into motion, and you scramble to remove your top. Sofia settles back against the couch as she watches you undress for her, keeping her features schooled.

Once you're bare, you shift on your knees a bit, unsure of what to do. Being naked in front of Sofia certainly isn't new, but, it's also been ten years since you've last been intimate with her. You never anticipated it happening again like... this. Sofia never acted this way with you in the last. Usually, she undressed you herself, slowly and with kisses on each inch of skin she revealed. She had been teasing, sure, but never so stern.

It stirred something in you that you couldn't place your finger on. All you know is, you certainly aren't complaining.

So, you stay still, not wanting to do anything without instruction lest Sofia decide she's no longer willing to entertain you. You bask in Sofia's predatory gaze, letting her drink in your exposed body.

Soon, though, you start to squrim a bit. It's not cold, per say, but the air was just brisk enough on your bare skin that you couldn't ignore the slight chill.

You shiver a little, and Sofia smirks.

"You cold?" She asks knowingly. Sofia keeps her eyes on you as she reaches for her wine glass, standing as she does.

You tense a little as she begins to stalk closer to you, a small sneer on her face.

She's behind you, now, but you don't dare to move your head, not even when you hear the clink of her wine glass on the ground. Instead, you stay still and complacent as Sofia picks up your discarded shirt and begins to wrap it around your wrists. You moan inadvertently at the feeling of her skin on yours, but Sofia takes a deep breath. She ignores the sound, instead making quick work of restraining your hands behind your back.

When she's done, Sofia picks her glass back up as she towers over you. There's a dark, empty look in her eye that sends a chill down your spine.

Sofia, of course, notices this.

She smirks. "Is that it? You chilly, sweetheart?" Her voice is patronizing and full of faux concern.

You're not sure if she wants an answer or not, but aren't given a chance to respond either way, Sofia suddenly splashing the remenants of the wine from her glass onto you.

You flinch, and gasp loudly at the cold sensation. You're hands instinctively move to rub at eyes in an attempt to clear your vision, but you find yourself tugging fruitlessly at the shirt Sofia had binded your wrists. The wine soaking your face and dampening your hair ends trickles down your body, erupting goosebumps in it's wake.

You're still blinking heavily in an attempt to normalize your seeing when hear a breathy cackle. You feel her pinch your jaw, a strong grip on you as she licks a filthy stripe up your face, lapping up the spilt wine. She releases you, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Sofia struts past you and towards the desk by the window. You can't see what she's retrieving, your eyesight blurry and unfocused.

By the time Sofia circles back, you've mostly regainedy your vision. You don't have any time to visually process what she has in her hand, though, as she wastes no time in forcing the barrel of her handgun past your parted, panting lips, and into your mouth.

"It's a terrible feeling. Isn't it?" The gun presses a little harder, and you cringe at the feeling of rough metal pressing against your tongue. "Nothing left to hide behind," Sofia drawls, her voice is surprisingly even, though her words feel weighted.

You blink up at her with an unnerving lack of fear.

Sofia bares on with a tilt of her head. "The guards at Arkham stripped us bare every morning," she states, and your heart clenches at the thought. "It was humiliating," Sofia continues, a subtle anger brewing in her voice with each punctuated annunciation, "being turned into a thing."

Sofia shoves the gun hard enough to make you gag, and presses forward until you're bending backwards. Sofia straddles you, her grip on the gun directing your movements. She has you sprawled on your back, hands twisted painfully under you, pressed between your spine and the hardwood floor.

Sofia lowers her face, her wild eyes inches from yours. "You think," she growls, "that I'm still who you knew?" She smiles, though there's no joy in it. "That I'm not just a thing?"

Apparently, it wasn't a rhetorically question, as Sofia yanks the gun out of your mouth.

You sputter for a second, before rushing to respond, "no," you gasp. "I- I don't expect you to- to be the same, Sofia, I don't." Your voice cracks a bit, and you pray that your eyes convey your earnesty. "I don't care that you- you don't feel like yourself, Sofia, if you feel different, now. I love you. I love you. I love you, Sofia," you insist, your voice soft.

Sofia regards you for a long minute, and you wait with abated breath to see how she'd react.

For a moment, you think she's heard you. Really heard, and believed you- believed in your unconditional love and devotion for her. There's a hopeful, but guarded look in her eye, something akin to a skittish street cat assessing if it should trust the hand reaching out to pet it. But, just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.

Sofia's features go hard again, and she moves her face away, straightening her back and kneeling over you.

"You don't get it," she says- simply, quietly, almost as if to herself.

You part your lips to protest, but Sofia is quicker, and slaps her hand over your mouth. "Don't," she warns.

Sofia hates it. The way you don't even struggle under her; the way you just take it, like you understand what this means.

Why don't you get it? Do you really not understand what kind of horrors she was exposed to? What they did to her; what they turned her into?

It pisses her off.

How dare you, how dare you, prance back into her life, expecting her to be untouched by the hell that was Arkham?

Do you think she's naive? That she'd truly believe, after all this time, you'd still want her? Want her for who she actually is now?

You don't even fucking know her anymore.

Fuck.

It infuriates her for so many reasons that she refuses to acknowledge right now.

Instead, she let's herself embrace the unbridled rage that's always threatening to erupt inside her.

"Alright!" She exclaims, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face. "You love me?" She taunts. "You think you want me?"

She shoves herself off of you to pull her underwear down her legs. You're heart thuds as she slips off her fur coat and hikes up her dress. Sofia easily drops back down, straddling your face and gripping your hair with one hand. "Show me, then." With that, she lowers herself completely, smothering your face in her cunt.

Your primal instincts kick in, then, and you press forward, your tongue eagerly swiping through her folds.

Jesus fuck, you think somewhere in the back of your mind. Finally, finally, finally.

You hadn't realized how much you craved the taste of Sofia until this very moment. It feels like you're starving, like you haven't eaten in ten goddamn years, and Sofia is the first meal you've been granted.

Your ministrations are messy and desperate. You can hardly think straight, overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sofia. All you do is lick and suck and moan, embracing the pure bliss you feel. The rapidly decreasing supply of oxygen in your lungs is easy to ignore when you finally have the privilege of pleasuring Sofia again.

Sofia's eyebrows furrow. You won't struggle under her. You won't look up with panicked eyes, even as she deprives you of air, even as she suffocates you.

You don't get it.

Sofia narrows her eyes and her hips buck forward. It's almost violent, the way she fucks your face, riding harder and harder. She grunts softly, losing inhibition as she watches her slickness spread all over your face.

Still, you only whine as though you're the one being pleasured.

Why don't you fucking get it.

Sofia tightens her grip in your hair, pushing your face impossibly closer against her cunt as she feels her climax approaching. She's panting harshly through her noise, controlling the means threatening to spill out of her.

Just then, your eyes slugglishly blink open and lock with hers. It's clear that you're moments away from passing out, and Sofia can only stare down at the dazed look in your eyes.

Still, there's no fear there. There's nothing but adoration.

Your eyes roll back, and your eyelids flutter shut. Sofia's breath hitches as your body goes limp under her.

It's then that she cums, her body tensing and jerking. A ragged moan escapes her as she grinds and grinds against you, using your unconscious body to draw the waves of pleasure out.

Sofia slumps off of you, sitting by your side as she recovers from the exertion. She just sits for a while, until her breathing regulates, and she gathers the courage to look over at you.

You're still passed out, but the slight rise and fall of your chest tells Sofia you are, in fact, alive.

It doesn't do much to relieve Sofia- not when there's a sick, familiar feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

No.

Sofia squeezes her eyes shut.

This isn't supposed to matter.

This doesn't mean anything.

Sofia stands, and smooths out her dress. She can't afford to have regrets; to have... things that make her question herself.

That's not her anymore.

Sofia takes a deep breath.

She squares her shoulders, and doesn't spare you a second glance as she forces herself to leave the room.

[transmasculinizing]

it frustrates me how some of the most iconic versions of batman are still by people who dont really care about the character and just like his aesthetic. snyder and nolan wanna empathize how cool and badass he is and thats fine but they try to make their movies way deeper than such surface level portrayals of batman should be. they like that hes dark and brooding but they dont go in depth on why hes like that. or they try to and fail. its not just about his parents dying its that he never healed from it. he didnt have the support system he needed to process his grief in a healthy way and was raised by an emotionally repressed ex military man who wouldnt let himself cross the line of employee and family. he learned not to show emotion outside anger. batmans stoicism isnt because hes badass, its a trauma response. the nolan movies treat batman not killing like its a moral superiority thing when thats not it at all. its what batman might occasionally tell himself it is but in reality its because if he starts he knows he wont be able to stop. he also has flaw of believing its like that for everyone but thats a whole other discussion. anyways not killing is in fact a mental block and its emotional because hes mentally ill. oh but we couldnt explore that because that would imply the guy were using for our toxic masculinity power fantasy is weak because he cant mentally handle something. its like.we want to hurt batman but we dont want him to feel anything about it other than maybe anger to show how tough and hypermasculine he is. this also correlates in why the live action batman movies dont want robin. they dont want batman to be a dad because thats not cool i guess. if you cant think of your batman comforting a crying child you didnt write batman though. i swear this obsession with not acknowledging that just because batman is bad at showing his emotions besides anger doesnt mean he doesnt have them has bled into the comics to. batman was literally a good dad to jason pre crisis but can you imagine nolans batman being a good dad? i cant personally. hes a man child. so now comics batman was shitty to jason when he was robin in order for batman to feel despair he needs to first feel love. his parents werent the only thing he loved. he loves his city, his friends, justice and doing whats right, his 2 major love interest and he absolutely loves his family im not saying all batman media needs to be a deep deconstruction of his psyche but if youre gonna focus on batman being 2 kool for emotions being badass rather than a result of his trauma dont pretend your movie is deeper than it actaually is

[a-whispering-echo]

anyway, blah blah uni au les gooo

Dust is psych major and chemistry minor - never fucking shows up apart from exams, always aces them somehow??? hes missing his lower leg below his left knee cus i said so - always shows up in pjs

Cross is older, and gets free uni cus of military past - spoke about this with some folks in the comments, pretty sure im putting him in art for now - i think its funny to have 'big gruff military man' in the fun drawing class thats seen as 'lesser' by people - (obviously not my own opinion, as i AM an asrtist, but yk, people see it as less that ) hes had bad encounters before when he tells people and it makes hm sad :(

Horror in culinary arts! he got in on a free scholarship, full ride!, for his talent! he got into baking because he wants to own his own bakery, so he can bring some money back to his large and suffering family!

Nightmares whos in his 40s and has just been getting qualification after qualification - rumour has it hes a vampire lol - hes in Law rn. he becomes the groups unofficial leader after Killer keeps clinging to him after seeing him in a seminar before

Killers in criminology and has a extra mandatory glass in Law too! hes definitely not in criminology for any NEFARIOUS reasons; he just has dreams of being a... detective, of course... (no one fucking believes that but shh, hes a good person to know for.. information ehehehehe) - spotted Noot in the class and went 'hm yes, he looks fun to mess with' and then didnt leave him alone.

Killer knows Dust cus hes the guy who hooks him up with some, yk, good stuff... - Horror is the guy Dust has seen in the libary a few times and MAYBE has a BIT of a crush on him, shhh - while Cross and Dut are both in the same dorm, and THATS how they all know each other <3

(Cross and Dust are both trans masc btw cus i said so. are they t3t?... mayhaps?)

(feel free to give me more ideas, on these guys or possibly the stars if you like - or others! - i just dont care for the stars much, these boys are MY THING, but if anyone has ideas....)

[nerves-nebula]

betcha thought u saw the last of me huh

been in a major writing slump for the past year, and now and conquering my writing slumo to hopefully get over all of my other ones so here u go this is inspired by a post a long time ago that i can’t find ab everyone falling back into old habits at the farm house and i can’t remember if it was april or casey who set them into shape but i needed an excuse to make it faggy

the farmhouse itself was nothing like the sewers. warm wooden walls, sunlit windows, and soft carpet were a very dramatic change from the damp, cold walls of the sewer, made colder by the presences within them.

 

it was a change, for sure, but raph couldn’t help but think it was a welcome one.

 

everyone could tell something had changed between them, between everyone. eggshells littered the floorboards during short, awkward conversations, before the occupants retreated back to their designated spaces.

 

some things lingered, though. what is it that people say—it takes twenty one days to form a habit? well, raph has been doing this for nineteen years, so beat that. he’s spent almost two decades walking on autopilot, not thinking twice about anything until it became a threat, picking up after everyone, cooking, cleaning. the list carried on.

 

and for the better part of two decades, his siblings had accepted that. some smart people online can say whatever they want, but a few weeks in the farmhouse can’t undo years of habit. but it was fine. it was fine if he spent a good few hours of his day cleaning up mikey’s paint. it was fine if donnie’s gadgets were scattered across the table. it was fine if leo left dishes in the sink from a meal he couldn’t be bothered to share.

 

it was fine.

 

raph was fine.

 

his brain woke him up early. it always did. he had to make breakfast and clean up the mess everyone probably made after he turned in for the night, and donnie probably hasn’t showered in awhile, so he needs to get on that and-

 

“you’re thinking too loud.” a voice grumbled from below him. that was odd. casey was never up this early. that was new. “quit it.”

 

“…sorry.” raph muttered, lifting his head from casey’s chest. that was relatively new too. he saw the way mikey looked at them, like he knew something they didn’t. he and casey were old friends, even if the bed thing was new. “i didn’t know you were up.”

 

“oh, im up alright. i’m up to make sure that you aren’t.”

 

…

 

“huh?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he glanced up at casey’s face. his hair was tousled with sleep, leaving his eyes actually visible in the soft light of dawn. the warm sun hit the brown irises perfectly, casting them in honey.

 

“you heard me.” casey yawned, tossing a tan arm over his eyes. the long, thick strands of his uncut hair splayed across the pillow in tendrils. slithering out across the cotton to root their host into the mattress. “you’re sleeping in.”

 

…

 

that’s new too.

 

his mind screamed in protest. he didn’t do well with change; he never had. that was his routine—his new one. he woke up early, made breakfast, ate as much as his body would allow him, and then some, and then cleaned. leo would wake up next, take his fill, not clean his plate, and fuck off to god knows where. then mikey would emerge, and then donnie. april came down a few hours later, and then finally casey would wake up. it was never like this; he was never last.

 

some part of him, deep inside his psyche, begged for a break. sleeping in would be nice. he couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be than right here—casey’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, holding his head against the soft flesh of his stomach while absolutely shrouded in blankets. he hadn’t been this comfortable in years.

 

he was wasting time. dad never liked waiting for breakfast.

 

dad wasn’t here, and frankly, he could go fuck himself.

 

it took twenty-one days to form a habit. how long does it take to break one?

 

without a word, raph settled back into casey’s body and closed his eyes.

 

—:—

 

the next time he woke up, casey was still under him. the sun was higher in the sky, now painting the walls in golden rays as opposed to the vibrant pinks and blues of dawn. his friend's hand ran across the ridges of his shell, rendering him practically immobile. his limbs were loose with contentment, and his vision was hazy as he flicked his eyes around the room.

 

“mornin’. again.” casey grinned down at him, that gap-toothed smile wide, and pleased with his own poor joke. his fingers never stopped their soothing motions on his carapace, though, so raph decided to let it go.

 

his eyelids felt heavy as he forced them to stay open, blinking sleep away while flexing his body. every finger, every toe, arms, legs, and then finally his neck as he lifted his head from casey’s warmth.

 

“what time is it?” he asked, pushing his body up into a sitting position, much to his mind's dismay. everything in him was screaming to lay down again, to soak up casey’s warmth like the man was a rock in the sun. he may as well be with his body temperature.

 

casey helped him up, his big hands steady against his biceps as he manoeuvred raph into a sitting position in front of him. the sheets pooled around their waists as raph leaned his head against casey’s shoulder. the room was so cold now.

 

“c’mon.” raphs shoulder was prodded gently, and he raised his head to gaze into where casey’s eyes hid behind his hair. his voice was soft and low, like a vibration in the air.

 

maybe that could explain the tingling in his spine.

 

bare, tan feet hit the floor first, before his hand gently tugged the turtle off the mattress. still dazed with sleep, he stumbled, leaning into casey’s side to take the weight off of his unsteady legs. the stairs were the hardest to conquer, with all three of raphs fingers grasping casey’s wrist while they manoeuvred down the steps.

 

a muffled scolding sounded from the next room, and raph felt something inside of him freeze. it wasn’t dad splinter. splinter usually yelled, or even just spoke, but he never tried to make himself quieter. maybe the humiliation of everyone else knowing you were in trouble was part of the punishment.

 

“i swear to fucking god.” the voice spoke, tone controlled yet flaming. “i’m done watching him pick up after you guys. i love you, you’re my friends, but you need to get your shit together.”

 

his brain didn’t quite comprehend who was speaking until he heard the next voice.

 

“it’s not that big of a deal.” leo’s familiar tone punctured the air. raph refused to allow the sound to stab him like the knife it always was. “he’s done it forever! i’m sure he’s used to it by now!”

 

“that doesn’t mean it’s fine, leo!”

 

“april, w-we’re all getting better…aren’t we? i mean, we clean up after ourselves decently...”

 

“no, the house is clean because raph is still cleaning up after you guys like he’s your mom!”

 

casey’s hand tightened a fraction on his shoulder, and he looked back down at him with a grin. “how about we go outside, yeah? it’s s’posed to be real nice out.”

 

before raph could complain or comply, he was already being led in the other direction, hearing the voices fade back out. he opened his mouth, and casey cut him off. “i know you’re hungry. i’ll getcha something. wait outside for me? ‘kay?”

 

and like that, he was gone. the door closed behind him as raph turned his eyes to the tree line, plush with vibrant leaves and dark soil. remnants of dew still clung to the blades of grass, shining brightly in the light of the sun.

 

the wood of the patio was warm against his feet, and he leaned his elbows to the railing, licking his eyes into the woods. his eyes were still heavy, and the place around his neck where casey’s arm previously lay left a pleasant scorch sinking into his skin. still, the voices from inside bounced in his skull. at least the yelling was familiar.

 

somethings never change.

thaNKK YOUUU !!! this was SO CUTE UGH. you get the first neglected art i've been able to make in a while

[pinazee]

Daredevils!

Overall, not one of my favorite episodes but by far my favorite ending because oh boy what a gut punch of feelings!

First, look at how he set this up. There is no way shawn thought this would work so he 100% knows these kids are only there to see him crash into this kid. Also, im guessing the actor for gus was unavailable, but i like to think hes not there because he knew Shawn always intended to crash into him.

Lol what are you talking about henry? He’s got like 9 years of life here and a third of it was in diapers. Stfu

This is random, but is this the only time we’ve seen the pinball machine? I dont recall it being in later eps. I’ll have to keep an eye out now.

So far my favorite pineapple reveal. Should i start playing find the pineapple?

Shawn can read lips ✅

Probably the dumbest thing Shawns ever done. also, I’m guessing Vancouver roof tops were out of the question, cause that green screen be working real hard haha

The first time i watched this show i was in middle school, so all of the references, went completely ignored by me. Now im picking up on references ive never heard before. Like who Aldo nova is.

Gemcitabine and capecitabine are actually pancreatic cancer treatments and they even showed it correctly (the one being an IV the other a tablet) so major kudos to psych for the attention to detail.

As for the lassie sideplot. Eh. I can see what Vick was trying to say, but at the same time, if Lassie is getting complaints because he’s throwing little tantrums then Vick should have handled it instead of telling Juliet to. Plus, Lassie is the type to respect authority, so it would’ve meant more if it had come from her anyways. Though, i do find it funny that Vick told her to handle it, and Jules’ interpretation of that was “i gotta find him a date,” when she probably meant like, beat the sense into him haha i will say though, i liked the resolution of Lassie going from i don’t need your help, to please, i need your help. I think thats good growth for him, but i think it was a little sloppy in the execution. I think it could’ve been better if lassie actually did get in trouble with Vick and Lassie had to work on not letting his personal life affect work as much and make that the focus. OR, if you wanted to keep the relationship stuff, you could forgo Vick getting involved at all and keep it simple. Jules feels bad for lassie getting rejected again and tries to set him up the whole episode, then when they have that bit with the prostitute, thats when he accepts her help (because again he has terrible instincts. Like, how did he make it this far as a cop. Truly astounding.)

Wait i have the answer to this! Let me check my notes:

By this point in the series- 6

NOW ABOUT THAT ENDING! Ohmygod! First of all, one of the rare Psych ep’s that doesnt have an actual murderer or even victim. They just got swept up into a poor dying mans attempt at suicide. I love that Shawn doesn’t tell anyone and is honoring his right to die. I think thats a very bold message to make on a cable show. But i also love that hes actually really nervous because he does want to convince him not to go through with it. and then after he left, Its one of the few occasions where we can actually see him questioning if he made the right decision. You can see how much he hopes his words resonated with him enough that it saves his life. Plus it was so smart to keep the camera on Shawn to watch his reaction. It kept you in that tense moment with him so you can feel the relief shawn has when he landed the trick. Such a great scene and possibly one of my favorites in the series.

P.S this is my favorite bit lol Gus is so much funnier to me this watch. I think the first time i watched Psych i pitied him a lot, so that anytime he looked kind of foolish i just felt bad for him haha but damn, Dulé is so freaking funny

[shattersstar]

ok but we need to hear more about college dick now👀👀

hehe ask and u shall receive because ohhh myyy dick in college is such a messsssssss but like so pretty it’s almost unfair

—

i love the idea of dick and a bunch of his friends getting a house together with the intent of being Normal for the first time in a while, which means being absolute menaces as most 20 smth yr old guys are

very much known for being a party house bordering a frat but all the guys r so nice that it’s rlly hard to think of them like that. it’s a space where he can let go, feel like himself and with the encouragement of his friends, dick puts the brakes on like relationship hunting and just has fun..

he’s been in pretty committed relationships since he was old enough to be and has always struggled with casual dating let alone sleeping with people he barely know. but when dick learns there r ppl out there looking for the same thing and not everyone wants to b the next future ex mr/mrs. grayson it makes it a lil easier to be his charming self with no bounds <33

and then he mets you and it’s the usual routine, flirting you to his bedroom which is in the basement—of course—well alllllmost doing so until you vanish out of his grasp for reasons dick cannot discern (you weren’t here for him silly)

and while he’s not like one of those oh i wanted to hit and couldn’t so im gonna chase you types, dick does have to reconcile with the fact your friends with roy and spend a lot of time at the house now

which also means he learns how cool you r and how goofy he feels for just tryna sleep with you

and despite his friends vouching for him you really only see (and have heard the numerous rumours) dick as a rich playboy and that’s not for you. plus he’s def a business or poli sci major……….but with a psych minor bc it feels the most practical despite how boring dick finds most of his classes

though when he realizes your both in a psych elective together he’s all toothy grins and obnoxious air which isn’t helping his case but of course he’s a decent student and when you mentioned hating statistics—you were stuck with the worse prof outta the two—dick jumped at the chance to help

you were sooooooo skeptical and even though agreed you kept brushing him off until dick just started helping you when you were over to hang out. he drops a textbook in your lap while sitting in roy’s bed or starts reviewing your notes and adding examples while your hanging out on the living room floor building lego sets with everyone else.

and dick did that a lot—sure it was his house and roy was his best friend along with all of his other housemates but dick never hesitated to insert himself into whatever you were doing when you came over. and it shouldn’t surprised you but everyone being so..unbothered by it had you confused. like maybe that’s how dick is but it spoke bounds to their closeness and was the First time you actually saw a little more to dick than just some campus hottie douchebag who threw parties to get laid

and while you weren’t about to tell dick that, you did start coming over with the intent of working on stats together. it usually meant dick having to re-lecture whatever your prof barely managed to explain and helping you with the page long equations needed for assignments

and dick keeps it as platonic as possible, on a mission to prove he’s not the person you think he is and not only because he wanted to be with you—well yeah he does—but because dick cares what you think about him. he knows his friends care about you and value what you have to say and he wants you to know it’s the same for him

and maaaybe you see that too but dick needs to suffer a little more

—

bonus: you talk to dick abt ppl you’re interested in at some point (either genuinely or to mess with him) when he insists on always hanging out with you and roy. and while he gives advice with a smile, still trying to prove his capacity for mature, platonic relationships, dick screams into his pillow later that night when he goes over the convo again and again and agai—

bonus bonus: he’s probably on the school’s gymnastics team <3

[tf2heritageposts]

Q AND A for our pinned post so people stop asking us these things

q. why do you use we/us? are there multiple mods?

a. no there is only one person who runs this account and it’s a person with did. we do not take quesrions. sometimes alters will post and do sign offs

q. why do you use i/me when talking about tfc heavy?

a. because i’m a cheavy fictive deal with it. look up what a fictive is yourself im tired of explaining

q. do you hate medic?

a. not even remotely, i actually love the character and the alter of him in our head quite a lot

q. you mention having a gi bill and talking with the va sometimes. are you in the military?

a. christ no. we’re a military dependent, which means we get the benifets of it without being in the military from our estranged family

q. why are you estranged from your family?

a. if you look at this blog long enough you’ll find out why

q. what’s the deal with your ex?

a. check the tag #the delilah situation and never talk to me about this, any asks will be deleted and i don’t take questions

q. i want details on x trauma

a. no

q. why do you have beef with x person? what’s the deal with you and x?

a. it most likely happened when we were 16-17 and even if it didn’t i don’t take negative questions regarding other people on this blog. i try to be positive. also, somehow this isn’t obvious i guess, don’t harass or even talk to people who you think i have beef with(i might not even know them stop assuming everything), and don’t tell me their every move. are you insane?

q. do you reaaaallly have did?

a. yes and we’re not faking and if you post us to any form of ableist cringe subreddit we will be taking legal action. find out if we’re joking

q. can you diagnose me with x?

a. we are not a medical professional and not taking psychology to become a therapist, we cannot diagnose any condition you may or may not have. we can give advice to the best of our ability but we don’t know you probably so

q. how should i use your pronouns?

a.

when referring to us as a collective, use they/it plural and call us the teufort dozen

eg:

they’re on their way to the store and they’re going to pick up wood to make themselves shelves for their apartment. the teufort dozen doesn’t care about security deposits because their rabbit already chewed up the carpet

when talking about me specifically, you can call me cheavy or tf2heritageposts and nothing else unless i’m friends with you, and use he/it NO THEY

eg:

cheavy really walks a lot, i’m surprised he doesn’t break his legs more. he really loves the bus

q. who do you main in tf2?

a. heavy and sometimes i play every other class except medic

q. this blog isn’t a heritage blog anymore

a. you’re an idiot and the queue has been going on since this blog has started. filter #not a heritage post dumbass

q. you should lose weight

a. i am actively trying to gain weight

q. what color is your hair

a. i don’t know

q. can i ask you questions specifically towards a specific alter?

a. yes you can! but please be aware that we’re not roleplaying and they can in fact get mad at you or decide not to respond to you

q. can i ask you about your source (memories)?

a. sure!

q. i am contacting you on behalf of someone else who you used to know

a. leave me alone

q. are you safe?

a. yes we’re very safe, we have many knives and we will kick a bitch

q. have you seen weird al’s albuquerque the movie

a. i watched it today for the 30th time as of writing

q. what’s your major?

a. currently getting my associates in general psych

q. are you aware you’re kind of stupid

a. yeah

[someverygaymoth]

social anxiety NM anon here. what the HELL do you mean if i had a nickel for every time someone i’ve barely spoken to immediately assumed i had a diagnosis, i’d have two nickels. which isnt a lot but

i’ve had a tiny mental crisis about “am i autistic or is it just the adhd” like twice in the past year and i think you just sparked 3, should i reopen the document that i definitely don’t have???????? uh. idk maybe its the adhd (actually diagnosed) but like. um idk anyways NIGHTMARE W/ SOCIAL ANXIETY, LOVE IT, AM I RIGHT (you’re not a therapist so i’m just gonna. stop talking about me. but like. im gonna re-open that document actually. 3rd times the charm or whatever??? mnbhiuvoijohubjhfuijhnfh)

Funny enough, I am starting a psych degree next year to go into the field of psychotherapy. (Still not a therapist yet, but it's funny) My whole family is full of dorks with ADHD innatentive type and autism. An occasional OCD or schizophrenia in there too, so I've got a little experience.

If you don't feel your diagnosis is right, contest it. Especially if you're AFAB. Women and AFAB folks go undiagnosed and misdiagnosed at a disproportionate rate to men and AMAB folks.

But neurodivergent social anxiety is very common in both ADHD (innatentive or otherwise) and autism.

But in AFAB folks, autism tends to present with an extreme social awareness that leads to misdiagnosis. Now, not all autistic women exhibit that social overawareness, but It's definitely a pretty common trait. I suspect it has a lot to do with nurture over nature. It's similar to the idea of under-empathetic autistic presentation vs. overly-empathetic autistic presentation. Under-empathetic would be an autistic person who struggles to identify their emotions and feel them at length as well as struggling to have sympathy for others, whereas overly-empathetic autistic people struggle to tone down and manage their emotions to the point that they feel greatly overwhelming the majority of the time and have very big places in their hearts for others' struggles and problems.

So, similar to that, there's also autistic people who are underaware of social cues, and those who are overaware of social cues. Of course, even those who are aware of social cues because of these adverse experiences in childhood have areas of socialization that they are just exceedingly bad at interpreting. (Ex someone might be very good at reading facial expressions and body language but suck at controlling their own tone and understanding figures of speech.)

Anyway, hi, good morning anon, can you tell what my special intrest is? (Trauma affecting the presentation of other mental disorders my beloved.)

[pumpkinsy0]

Autistic cherry hcs pleek :3 + any other mental illness’ + neurodiversity you can see her have if you have any in mind. basically just a deep dive on her psyche but also autistic cherry #real

im ngl i barely rlly think about her so my thoughts may change but aye,,,lemme cook,,,

yknow i could actually see cherry havingg 3 major things, anxiety, imposter syndrome, and seasonal depression

BUT FIRST THE AUTISM!!!

when it comes to cherry, theres two ways u can see it, either she gets diagnosed as a kid or she doesnt, and since i feel like i would be going down the same rabbit whole as before talking about her not being diagnosed, ill just say she is!!!

she was diagnosed as a kid and her parents dont look too highly on anything that goes against the norm, anything that “makes them look bad” they want to have the perfect life and the perfect daughter, so they just tell her to “act normal”. cherry had basically been masking her wholleeee life, partially bc shes forced by society and her parents, part bc she wants to. any yknow what??? she does a damn good job of it!! when it comes to her stims, theyre things ppl write off, clicking a pen, her humming, and her chewing gum is just her trying to keep it together when shes overstimulated.

is her autism something shes open about??? nope, i dont think so, nobody outside her immediate family rlly knows about it and she would like it to stay that way cause she doesnt want to be knows as “the girl w that condition” she wants to be seen as herself, yknow??? i dont think thats something she grows up to rlly accept about herself either, the ppl around her never taught her how to accept it, so it would b very hard for her to do it on her own</33

when it comes to her special interest btw, i can totally see her like french history!! especially when it comes to the fashion (specifically rocco i would think) and the revolution, i cant explain it, she just gives off the vibe. maybe its bc i hc her as half french??? perchance????? POINT IS, shes super into it!!! she has some old letters from past family members from france around that time she looks at allllll the time, its like her prized possesion

when it comes to cherrys anxiety, its comes from a multitude of things, ive already mentioned the societal pressure shes under so i wont go into that, but what also runs along w her anxiety is her impostor syndrome!! cherry is a girl who genuinely wants to work for what shes got, she doesnt want it handed to her on a silver plater. but she never knows 100% if shes actually working hard for something and got it all by herself bc of her own skills or if she was just pushed to the top for being a pretty soc. and it was only worse when shes in hs, bc all shes known as is a result of her family being popular in town and or her being a cheerleader, noticed mainly bc of her looks, both r superficial reasons. she has no room to show who she truly is and thats suffocating to her, making her question if the relationships around her r genuine, she will lowkey quiz ppl close to her about herself to see if they really listen to her and the only two ppl who passed was marcia and bob

nowwww w the seasonal depression to b fair, she did get better. she got depression, got TECHNICALLY better, and now shes got seasonal depression. not much i can say for this part tbh and thats bc a lot of ppl think she isnt depressed. she keeps on pushing like eveythings ok just to get ppl off her back so they ask no questions, but when shes alone, she clings onto this sweater of bobs and his cologne and wishes he was there. she keeps pushing for his sake though, she knows he wouldnt wanna see her all down in the dumps, no many how many times hes upset her.

[11queensupreme11]

OKAY, I HAVE A LOT TO SAY!!!

i know i haven't been active in updating or answering asks, sorry about that, but i just wanna tell you to wait just a biiiiiiit more!

i also have a lot of exciting things i wanna vent about so yeah hehe

tomorrow is monday and officially the start of my finals week!!! i have finals on monday, tuesday, and wednesday and after that, the semester is OVER for me!!!! however, for the remainder of the week, i have signed myself up for to stay at a spa resort as a sort of 'relaxation gift' to myself 💖 an update will most likely come after that

also!!!!

i was previously a psych major who's doing premed BUT I HAVE DECIDED TO PURSUE AN MD/PHD INSTEAD SO I CAN GET PAID TO DO MY PHD AND HAVE MY MED SCHOOL TUITION PAID OFF 🥰

so yes, my new plan is to graduate college to get my bachelors degree, get a master's degree, and then find an md/phd program. by the end of all of this, i should (hopefully) have 7 degrees (i currently have 3 rn lmao). that's more than anyone in my entire family has so you know what that means???!!!!

i can finally be the child that my asian parents brag about during family get-togethers 😂😂😂😂😂

ALSO WUTHERING WAVES IS COMING SOON ASHFGJHFVJHFV JIYAN, CALCHARO, SCAR, IM COMING FOR YOU

[noirvette]

clyde and tweek! gen dating headcanons!!

cws: none! just fluff

♡ CLYDE DONOVAN

Was nervous to ask you out but he acted like he wasn't, but his awareness for how to ask you out smoothly was lacking.

He'd ask you out in class, him sitting in front of you. During work time he'd spin around to ask about a certain homework question and if you could tutor him/help him with the answers.

"Y/n? Hey can you help me?" "Yeah, uh... with what?" "Oh just what we're working on.. does Friday after school work with you? We could grab coffee?" "Clyde why do you need help on an 'About Me' essay?" "🧍‍♂️" "Sure though, I'd love to go out with you."

He spends the rest of the class time with his head in his hands bro, he's so embarrassed. He's stoked you agreed though.

Always puts his your needs and wants above his

He might "complain" about it but he's not actually complaining, he always wants to make sure you're happy

Loves PDA, but like enough for people to obviously understand you're together, but it's not over the top. He doesn't want to constantly be kissing you or something, just constant skin contact

He LOVES talking about you. He sits at his lunch table with his friends and the first topic he brings up is you, how good you look, how smart you are, as long as it's about you, he's talking.

Sends you random memes and reaction pics that just work?? Like he has a picture for EVERYTHING. Constantly texts too, he wants you to know he's engaged in conversation. Would and will respond in 2 seconds to anything you say.

If he doesn't it's because he's actually busy, which happens when his sports season rolls around (I see him on the football team w/ Stan and maybe baseball?), however he makes sure to text you before and after training/work outs/etc.

Maybe? controversial? But he's a little spoon. He wants to be held. Loves it.

Likes kissing the top of your nose or your temple. Like before you enter class, he pulls you into him, quickly kisses your temple, and off he goes to his own class.

Won't accept you paying. He pays for everything, he has to. He feels terribly if you end up paying, and if it does happen, he buys you something to make up for it: jewelry, coffee, something you eyed at the store last week, shoes, etc. WHATEVER IT IS, he bought it to "pay you back".

One time he thought you were ignoring him and he sent you an apple cash/venmo of like 10 dollars and was like "babe what'd i do, im sorry :("

When you're hanging out with his friends, he wants you attached to him, not out of jealousy or because he doesn't trust the guys he just loves you so much and wants you around him.

Arms wrapped around your waist as you sit on his lap you feel me?

If you leave for the bathroom or to get a drink or something, you come back and he's sitting still, face down on the table pouting.

Doesn't know how to respond to rants or vents though, like at all. Honestly if you send him a long message about how terribly your day went he'd very briefly scan it and respond with a "nta, divorce" and you're like "CLYDE WHAT???"

Atp it might be better to just call him and tell him your complaints.

♡ TWEEK TWEAK

Doesn't know how to ask you out at all. Is overwhelmed by the possibility that it could go wrong and he ends up psyching himself out every time he's about to ask you out.

Honestly unless you ask out Tweek or some invisible force pushes you two together, you guys wouldn't start dating.

Getting his attention wasn't hard, he finds himself often taking loving glances at you through out school.

Once you ask him out he kind've.. freezes and then pinches himself. He's gotta prove this isn't the dream he's had for the past week. Once he knows it's not, he agrees, a blush taking over his whole face.

I know I keep writing these guys as not big fans of pda but I swear I only see a few of the sp guys as fans of pda 😭 (Like I only see Kenny, Butters, and Clyde as the major pda guys mb guys). Loves just holding hands though. Having his fingers intertwined with yours makes him smile.

He's often less stressed out around you, finds himself coming to you when he's anxious about something.

If he's anxious about something all he wants is to be heard, not being told solutions (this is canon but yk gotta still say it). There are times where a solution would be best and he understands then, but it annoys him if all you give him is "how" to fix the situation rather than just hearing him out

Maybe? controversial? I feel as if tweek texts pretty clearly. a few typos (but who doesn't have typos), but he doesn't have constant typos.

Loves using emojis though, he likes how he can express himself easily with them rather than using just words. Especially because there are times where he just doesn't understand how to express himself and he sees an emoji that works perfectly

Likes music sharing. He makes playlists that are just dedicated to you and he sends them to you.

He also likes calming songs (? idk think like the neighborhood, tv girl, lana del ray, cigarettes after sex, etc.)

Is another small spoon when cuddling. LOVES cuddling actually. He can fall asleep so easily with you in his arms and he's never felt more at peace than when you guys cuddle.

Also likes facing you when lying down next to you. His arm draped across your waist and his face against your chest bro, he's knocked out.

Doesn't like really public dates, occasionally wants the fun amusement park date, but if you're going to do public dates, he likes a simple atmosphere, like at an aquarium or a museum.

I feel like his love languages are quality time and words of affirmation.

Sometimes he gets in his head and believes you aren't actually with him because you love him and it's some sort of prank or scheme.

Please reassure him :(, all he needs is a constant "I love you" and he's doing better.