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[pprodsuga]

never to keep | heeseung

summary: heeseung was always a natural scene stealer, capturing the hearts and attention of those around him. it seemed predestined that he'd pursue a life that would take him beyond the cosmos and leave behind the constellations he once treasured. it's too bad that you were one of them.

warnings: angst and typos, probably.

word count: 8.6K (shorter than previous works, forgive me)

notes: ahahah. this is a therapy piece ... currently dealing with similar themes of a friend prioritizing work and people who don't care for her over people who do, and i feel veryyy conflicted as of late. i, like yn, am not a plaything. why not turn it into a fic. anyway, enjoy and happy reading! x

masterlist + taglist

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

If you love someone, they will always come back to you. 

There’s no logic in love, only strong emotions that make people disregard all they know to chase the feeling of reckless abandon. Love is a wildcard that can catch even the most self-protective person off guard. You’ve read it in stories from childhood fairytales to watching strangers fall in love in your favorite books and television shows growing up. You believe the people who kiss on the screen must surely find an ounce of love, even if only for a brief moment. 

It’s no surprise that you’ve come to love Heeseung the way you do. To love him is to know him, even if he’s too tired to see you on the weekends or too occupied to sit next to you at the lunch period because of his days training to become an idol. What you know at this point in your life is that love is unconditional; supporting your best friend to pursue a dream he’s talked about since he could speak feels right. 

To love somebody doesn’t necessarily mean to devote oneself to the fullest extent, but somehow you feel as though this way of thinking never quite aligned with how you’ve come to love. Heeseung’s parents are a surrogate for your own, especially when it’s just you and your mother in the small, two bedroom apartment that sits on the edge of town and away from the city. They tuck you in at night during holidays and other special occasions when you’ve become too tired to drive back to your home. 

Minjun, Heeseung’s younger sister by four years, warmed up to you quicker than anyone had expected. The fierce girl had a protective streak over her brother once he grew into his height and learned that winking at pretty girls could get them to do whatever he asked of them within reason. Minjun doesn’t recall when she met you for the first time because she was likely too young to remember, but her sweet nature towards you speaks louder than you could’ve ever anticipated. 

Growing up with a single parent as an only child provides enough time to befriend loneliness. There are days spent idly in the apartment waiting for someone to keep you company, often wishing that the house was filled with people to keep the void full and lively. But now, because of the Lee family and how close you’ve become to their two children, it seems as if the idea of a central family is closer than you think. 

Heeseung didn’t expect for you to become a prominent fixture in his life when the two of you were partnered for a science project at the ripe age of thirteen. He’d experienced a growth spurt and acne for the first time simultaneously, growing insecure in himself with every day that passed by. Heeseung hadn’t anticipated you sitting with his family at the dinner table five years later, listening to a mundane story about his mother’s workday at a boring corporate-level position Heeseung doesn’t bother to remember. 

He never thought you’d be cooking with his father in the kitchen upon returning home from his training practices, talking about the art of seasoning as the meal preparations come to a finish. He doesn’t remember when you started coming over without the pretense of coming to see him either. Heeseung surely does not anticipate Minjun waiting for your arrival by the front windows just to insist on being the first person who welcomes you into their home. 

Naturally, Minjun becomes a recognizable face in your life because of how often she spends time with you and Heeseung. The young girl sets up her homework as the two of you begin yours, her schoolbooks significantly lighter than yours but you make conversation anyhow. 

“I think she likes you because you don’t treat her like she’s thirteen,” Heeseung says as he dries the dishes from dinner as you scrub them clean. “She hates it when people baby her.” 

“Sometimes I think I need to watch how I talk to Minjun.”

“No, you don’t. Minjun likes that you talk to her like a friend.”

“That’s what she is, no? A friend?”

“More than me?”

You flick water towards Heeseung. “Yes, if you keep teasing me.” 

“Seriously, though. Thanks for being nice to her. She complains that she’s the youngest out of everybody all the time.”

“I used to be like that.” You close the tap water and hand the last dish to Heeseung. “I hated being at the kids table when everybody else got to be an adult. Minjun’s at the age where she’s aware of it.” 

“God, we sound like her parents, or something.”

You bite back a smile. 

Caring for Heeseung is arguably the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He makes it simple when you receive a text from him hours before you wake up and just before you go to bed despite his busy schedule. You wonder at all how he manages to fit you into his life with all of his dreams and responsibilities, but Heeseung always tells you it’s because there’s room for you. 

Being so close to his family helps internalize the fact that you are a permanent fixture in his life. Mrs. Lee drops off baked goods on Saturday mornings most times because she knows your mother likes to eat a sweet treat with her bitter coffee. Mr. Lee goes out of his way to fix faulty ceiling fans or kitchen drains when he has the time to spare your income. Minjun gives you drawings from her art classes that sit on your refrigerator. Integrating their life within yours feels natural. 

Heeseung has always been somebody you’ve looked up to, poised for success after deciding he loved singing enough to make a career out of it. The eight-year-old boy who loved to choreograph dance numbers to famous songs carries this humble beginning when he talks about what life might look like for him when he’s crossed the threshold that separates his life from now. 

It seemed as though Heeseung’s dream of becoming an idol never seemed too far out of reach, even if he had his moments where he felt like giving up. Things always worked out for him in ways nobody could explain, like moving to a new city because of his mother’s job and making friends within an hour of transferring to a new middle school. Or the time when he’d auditioned to train under a management company and hadn’t heard back from them for weeks–Heeseung prepared to stop giving himself false hope for his future as an idol until the fateful email sat at the top of his inbox, welcoming him to the company. 

Life was always easier on Heeseung than it was for everybody else. 

You don’t see him much between classes because he’s on a special path created for people who are like him. People who are destined to debut as an idol are given certain exemptions to ensure quality education while having enough time to train in all areas of performance art. It took a while for Heeseung to get used to his new life and the new routine set in place for him but you were always there to remind him that this is what he wants more than anything in the world. All of the stress and frustration that comes with change, no matter how brutal or unnerving, will be worth it when he sees his dream to the end. 

You’re a young adult at this point in your life but it feels like you’ve aged beyond your peers because of circumstance. Spending time at the Lee residence when your mom’s at work or visiting her friends prevents you from feeling as lonely as you do in between four white walls that barely feel like home without someone else in it. Growing up quicker than your peers feels like something expected of you. Oftentimes, you wish you could maintain childlike innocence as Heeseung does, dreaming so big and far that everything seems like a possibility if you dreamed hard enough. 

Watching him dance and hearing him sing feels like a reminder that there’s more to life than what you know. Your best friend is your confidant and the person you see yourself in the most. The boys and girls who befriend him because of his good looks and potential stardom don’t matter much to either of you when the promise of lifelong friendship looms in the future. You can’t imagine Heeseung not being in it. 

Mr. and Mrs. Lee sit at the dining table over a cup of post-dinner coffee while Minjun scrolls through her phone by the couch with a Netflix show you’ve never heard of on the television. Their soft murmurs have become a familiar background noise. You sit next to Minjun and peer over her shoulder. 

“I like these shoes a lot,” she tells you as she turns the phone for you to see. “All the girls in my grade are wearing these.” 

“Do you like them because you like them or because everyone else does?” 

She frowns. “What’s wrong with liking what other people like?” 

“Nothing, but if you’re going to buy flats just for them to sit in the back of your closet, that doesn’t seem like a good reason to have them.” 

Minjun has approached the age you’re all too familiar with. When you turned thirteen, the impending doom of fitting in hit you like a truck when you realized all of the girls in your grade had expensive clothes while you wore hand-me-downs from your cousins. Your backpack, which you had been using for three years because the straps weren’t broken, felt like a burden to carry when everybody else had pretty satchels. You felt juvenile in your too-worn sneakers and the two pairs of jeans you had sitting in your closet. But you were thirteen and your mother made enough money to make ends meet and put dinner on the table. Clothing and new school materials didn’t matter compared to eating before bed. 

Part of this insecurity has always followed you throughout childhood, especially when you were old enough to be aware of the fact that you were one of the few people in your grade who didn’t have a nuclear family. The kinds of families you’d see on the television didn’t exist in real life because while these programs taught its audiences the value of a good, stable home life, you’d been watching them alone while you waited for your mother to come home from work. There would be no dinner at the table with both of your parents because you knew there would be just her.

Watching Minjun grow up with two parents who dote on her feels bittersweet. It feels like watching a version of what could have been if only your father had chosen to stay in the picture instead of abandoning his family for a promising career in entertainment. Minjun’s petulance often reminds you that you were not privileged enough to have this kind of grace because of how rapidly your circumstances forced you to grow up faster than your peers did. 

There’s a small part of you that envies her life when you think about what yours could have been if he had stayed. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to watch your mother slave away at odd jobs to keep the lights on before finding a good, stable job after years of searching. Maybe you wouldn’t have felt so lonely in your adolescence because he’d take you to ice cream after school. Maybe the hollowness that remains inside of you would have been filled with joy and laughter on the holidays. 

“You’re right,” Minjun sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Seri told me my outfit would’ve looked prettier if I wore these.” 

“People should keep their opinions to themselves.” 

Minjun nods. “Agreed.” 

Heeseung emerges from the kitchen a moment later and sits next to you on the couch. The dip in the cushion and his thigh being pressed against yours isn’t a new phenomenon, but the heat that creeps up your neck can’t be helped when he looks like a model from the corner of your eye. You swallow until your mouth feels dry to keep both Lee siblings from asking why you look like you’re about to explode. 

It’s easy to fall in love with Heeseung. All of the girls fawn over him already, a promising sign that Heeseung will likely be just fine when he debuts as an idol. He’s always been good with people and speaks in a way that makes people root for his success even if it was unintentional to begin with. He’s charming in a way that seems humble. Heeseung has a skill for making you feel like you are the only person in the room when he talks to you. You’re sure it’s why people feel drawn to him and why everybody loves being around Heeseung so much. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way. 

Sometimes, you grow envious of how easy it is for Heeseung to get people to like him. Career prospects aside, it’s almost as if he can convince anyone he’s somebody worth being friends with. Cashiers love him because he doesn’t make small talk awkward. He’s not afraid to talk to strangers and strike up a conversation with somebody while waiting for his coffee order. Heeseung is bashful enough to come across as sincere and it seems to reel people in. 

He inspires you in ways that you can’t fathom but simultaneously reminds you that you’ve got no future or prospect. It’s unfair to compare yourself to your best friend, but being in such close proximity where people praise him next to you are constant reminders that your life hasn’t begun and you don’t know if it ever will. Your life feels stagnant compared to his exciting one. While Heeseung spends his days and nights perfecting his dance techniques and vocal skills, you sit in your room and wonder what life would be like if you could touch the moon. 

There are days where you wish you could be as suave and charming as he can be. You feel awkward around people you don’t know and limit yourself to new experiences when it feels too intimidating. You’re not somebody who’s confident enough to start a conversation, let alone with somebody you aren’t familiar with. Where Heeseung excels in the socializing department, you find yourself playing catch-up every time you see him befriend yet another person you aren’t familiar with. It’s a wonder how you two became as close as you are.

Meeting him had been by chance. You knew him from friends of friends and saw him in the hallways between class periods but never had a reason to talk to him until the two of you were partnered for a class project. The newfound partnership felt oddly comfortable from the minute Heeseung introduced himself to you with that same charming smile everyone knows him to have. His wit and humor brewed the perfect potion for you to feel like caring for him as deeply as you do would become inevitable. It wasn’t a bet on if you would fall for him as hard as you did, but when. 

You’re inclined to believe you keep it hidden well. Heeseung is far too oblivious most times to see you as anything other than his best friend. You’ve treated him like a friend far longer than you’ve liked him romantically, so acting as if you don’t have feelings for him is easy when you remind yourself that having him in your life would be better than the alternative. Still, you have moments where you yearn to hold his hand and kiss him before he leaves for practice. 

“Do you want to come to the next showcase this weekend?” Heeseung asks, nudging your side with his elbow. You pry your attention away from Minjun’s phone to look at him. “It’s gonna be a small one in the company theater. There’s going to be a bunch of important people in the industry. Allegedly.” 

“Of course I’ll come, Heeseung. This is you we’re talking about. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

The smile he gives you is blinding. 

“I really appreciate you supporting me, you know that? I don’t say it often, but I should. Thank you for always supporting me.” 

Your heart bursts. 

“I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t do at least that,” you tell him. 

“My parents and Minjun are gonna be there too so you won’t be alone.” He smiles at you like he knew you were worried about who to sit with, let alone if there’s going to be important people that could determine Heeseung’s career. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, an overwhelming feeling of shyness overtaking you. “It’s silly that you have to look out for me all the time.” 

“No, not silly,” he says immediately, pushing his head to your shoulder. You don’t imagine this position is very comfortable for him, but Heeseung seems keen on staying in this position. “We’re kids, Y/N. You don’t need to have your life together. I’ll always look out for you and walk you through it if that’s what you need.” 

You sigh. “You know, one day, you’re going to become so famous that you’ll inevitably be too busy for me.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No I won’t. Who checks up on me every day after practice? Who do I come to when I need to cry? Who do I invite to my home when I’m not even here?”

“Technically, your parents invite me over when you’re not here.” 

Heeseung pinches your thigh. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re not getting rid of me. It’s like, scientifically impossible to separate the two of us.” 

“Thanks, Hee.” You feel him nod against you before he lifts his head from your shoulder. “I just feel like I get in my own head sometimes. You know what you want to do for the rest of your life and I barely know what I want for breakfast tomorrow.” 

“We don’t always have to figure it out. I know saying that feels like bullshit because I’m training to become an idol but I’m serious. There are so many people we know who don’t know what they’re doing with their lives.” 

“It feels like my life could very well be over.”

“You’re being dramatic.” 

You make a face at him. “I know.” 

“You’ll find something for you, okay? You’re barely an adult anyway. You still have college and all of that shit to figure it out.” 

“You’re right.” 

“As always.” 

“Don’t push it, Heeseung.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you to the showcase. They pick you up and the four of you have a quick dinner before heading over to the company’s theater and you feel somewhat like an important industry person when you’re given a badge with ���VIP’ on it to signify that you’re part of the family and friends entourage. You see a group of people with clipboards and pens at the ready, dressed like they’ve just come from important meetings that determine the futures of each trainee. Perhaps that’s who they are. Some of these well-dressed individuals have younger people standing beside them, presumably assistants or something as such. 

It feels very formal and you’re wondering if the long skirt and long sleeve top you’re wearing is too childish. Everybody who looks important seems to be donning suits or dresses that make them look like they stepped out of a drama show. It doesn’t matter how many times you remind yourself that you’re young and not here to mingle with corporate executives. You still feel like the floor should swallow you whole and spit you out with a new wardrobe that matches everyone else’s. 

Heeseung’s parents chat with a few people they recognize and leave you and Minjun to fend for yourselves (or, rather, it feels that way). The young girl beside you hooks her arm with yours when you’ve been quiet for a moment too long and starts to lead you down the aisles. 

“Everyone in here looks so stuffy,” she whispers. “People working in entertainment should look like they’re having fun.” 

“I feel a little silly in this skirt,” you admit.

“You look great,” Minjun tells you as she bumps your hip with hers. “My mom made me wear this stupid dress that I can barely breathe in.” 

“I happen to think you look very cute, Minnie.” 

“But I don’t want to look cute,” she whines quietly. “I want to look like an adult.” 

“Yeah, well you can look like an adult when you are one. For now, just be happy that somebody finds you cute enough to do things for you.” 

Minjun wants to argue but doesn’t. In the time that she’s known you, there hasn’t been a reason for her to distrust anything you say to her because you’ve never had a reason to lie. It’s why she’s likely to listen to you over her own brother, a fact that Heeseung holds a mild grudge over. 

“I guess you’re right. I can’t even drive. I need people to drive me places.” 

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, driving can be a pain sometimes. Enjoy your youth while you have it, okay?” Minjun rolls her eyes in a way that lets you know she’s joking. Being outwardly affectionate doesn’t seem to run in the Lee sibling genes, but you’d like to think you know them well enough to tell when they’re being genuine.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” 

You try to tell yourself that, too. When everybody finds their seats and when the showcase begins, you’re in awe of how many talented people there are in the room when you hear their incredible vocal abilities and make performing in front of a crowd look easy. It’s easy to spot Heeseung when he’s dancing with a group of people you’ve never seen before. He always looks as if he’s floating on air, moving his body in ways you can’t fathom and he makes learning difficult choreography seem like a walk in the park. You’ve heard him sing before but not to this extent. The steady tone he delivers when he dances amazes you beyond comprehension and Minjun would later swear that she saw stars in your eyes when you watched her brother perform like this for the first time. 

What Heeseung neglected to tell you was that he secured a solo spot after months of impressing his coaches. He performs one of his favorite songs and moves across the stage like he was always meant to be dancing on it. From here, Heeseung looks like a celestial being with the lights cascading down his body. You hold your breath the entire time he sings on that stage and clap the loudest when everybody gives him a standing ovation. You peek to the side to see the same, stuffy executives nodding after his performance and write down things on their clipboards that you can only hope are praises and nothing but. 

Heeseung’s parents make their way to the front of the stage when the house lights turn on. They talk to people you don’t recognize and you find yourself following them instead of looking like an awkward mess, as everybody else has chosen to stand from their seats and greet the performers that have come out from backstage. 

Your best friend looks magnificent with his makeup and the outfit he last performed in. He looks like a real idol in this light and pride swells within your chest when people applaud him for his incredible performance before he reaches you. His smile turns bigger when he sees you and Minjun approaching him behind his parents and makes his way to engulf you in a hug. 

“You’re here,” he breathes. 

“I’d always said I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”

“I think this was the most important showcase of my life.” 

It would be hard to ignore Heeseung’s arm wrapped around your waist like he’s done it a thousand times before. It’s true that the two of you aren’t strangers to physical touch, but he never lingers on you like he is now. Still, you chalk it up to overflowing happiness and you can sense that Heeseung is genuinely pleased with himself. He isn’t pretending that he performed well like he does when he avoids going home after practice in lieu of spending time with you in your mother’s apartment. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” Minjun praises. 

“Language,” Heeseung chides, removing his arm from your waist to pinch her cheek. “Thank you for coming too. Where are eomma and appa?” 

Minjun points to where they are. “I think they were waiting for you to come out and started talking to the coaches.” 

“We should make our way there.” 

“You should,” you tell him, pushing Heeesung towards his parents. “I’ll be here when you’re done.” 

“Nonsense.” Heeseung shakes his head and grabs your wrist as best as he can with multiple bodies trying to squeeze past the three of you. 

When Heeseung pulls you away, you’re sure to grab onto Minjun’s hand so she doesn’t get lost in a sea of people either. Mr. and Mrs. Lee beam when they see their son approaching and Heeseung drops your wrist in favor of being smothered with affection by his parents. You can tell he feels embarrassed to be doted on in front of his peers because of how his ears are turning red, but you sit back and laugh with Minjun when she points it out loud. 

You let them talk and watch as people clad in business attire approach Heeseung and his parents. You're not sure if Heeseung knows them or not but he smiles and shakes their hands, going so far as to bow to their assistants as well. He talks to them like he’s been in this business for decades, making people laugh and remaining as humble as ever when people praise his performance skill. You’re not sure how Heeseung handles all of this attention and praise at the same time, or even what it must feel like to be talented enough to have people approach you. 

As you observe everybody else, it’s clear that Heeseung is the star of tonight’s showcase. The other performers did a fantastic job as well, but something about your best friend draws executives to him, and you’re sure everyone who hasn’t spoken to Heeseung is waiting for their turn. It feels exhausting to watch people socialize. You can only guess how exhausted Heeseung might be. 

Minjun joins her parents a little while later at their request, leaving you alone for the time being. You pull your phone out and text your mom that you’re still at the showcase and will let her know when Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you back to the apartment. You use this as an excuse to look busy, replying to a few friends that you didn’t have time to respond to before coming to the showcase. But those conversations are dry and leave you without a distraction. 

“Y/N, come here!” 

Heeseung calls your name and your head snaps to where he’s standing. He beckons you over with a wave and you awkwardly waddle to where he’s standing. His family aren’t with him and you wonder just how long you’ve been looking at your phone for. 

“This is my best friend, Y/N,” Heeseung says as he pulls you closer to him. “Y/N, meet Kim Namjoon. He’s the president and founder of Big Hit.”

“It’s lovely to meet you.” The bow is almost automatic and you’re sure to put on a good first impression to help any reputation Heeseung has with Namjoon. You bow at an angle that’s deeper than a common greeting but just shy of ninety-degrees. 

Namjoon returns in kind. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Heeseung’s a talented one, isn’t he?” 

“He’s the best at what he does,” you say earnestly. “I’ve never seen anybody work as hard as him in my entire life. Pardon if I’m overstepping, but I think Big Hit is incredibly lucky to have him.” 

He laughs at your politeness. “I feel the same. It’s not every day you come across someone who’s skilled at, well, everything.” 

“You know, when Heeseung and I were younger, we had this ongoing joke that he could master anything on the first try. I think it’s what makes him special, you know?”

“Guys, please don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Heeseung whines. His cheeks are red but both you and Namjoon laugh in good fun.

“There’s a reason why I chose Heeseung to be tonight’s soloist,” Namjoon informs. “This showcase is meant for people in the industry and if I’m being honest with you, I think you’ll be getting good remakes on your review.” 

Heeseung beams. “Wow…I don’t know what to say.”

“He says ‘thank you,’” you answer for him. “I can’t imagine what training must be like but I do know that all of it has paid off. Thank you for giving Heeseung a chance to prove himself.” 

There’s a glint in Namjoon’s eye. 

“Have you ever considered working in publicity?” Namjoon asks you. 

“No, why do you ask?”

“I think you’d have a real talent for it.” Namjoon says it in a way that feels too casual for a showcase, especially if he’s the one in charge of the company Heeseung is training under. “You speak well for Heeseung.” 

“Oh…thank you.” 

He turns to Heeseung and claps him on the back. “There’s more to being an idol than training and performing. You need people who know you and know the business. It’s important to make your career thrive because you can be the most talented person in the world, but if you don’t have the right people around you, none of that will matter.” 

Heeseung nods. “Y/N’s always been my champion.” 

“I can see.” Namjoon smiles at you. “Entertainment is not for the faint of heart and there’s more to it than being photographed. You need to be in the right places at the right time and know the right people who can get you there. That’s what publicity does for you. Y/N’s already doing it and she’s not working in entertainment yet.” 

Somehow, his words feel comforting. “I haven’t thought about what I want to do with my life but that seems like something I could do.” 

“It’s important work. Heeseung can perform the shit out of his solo but it doesn’t mean anything if he has nowhere to perform it.” 

Namjoon smiles at the both of you before his name is being called from behind him. 

“Great job on your solo, Heeseung.” He turns to you. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” He bows once more to the both of you before departing. 

“I feel like I’m buzzing,” Heeseung says as he puts an arm loosely around you. “It was like I was the only person in the room when I was performing, you know? The dance with the other guys was amazing and all of that but I feel like I was on another level when it was just me up there.” 

“You were incredible, Hee. I mean that. I don’t know a single person more talented than you.” 

Heeseung smiles down at you. 

“You know, it means a lot that you come to see me. Sometimes I wonder if people talk to me because they know I’m training to become an idol but you never make me feel like that. It feels natural and genuine. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thanks.” 

You push him away from you, a giddy smile tugging on the edge of your lips. Heeseung is affectionate but less so in his vocabulary, choosing to tease you because it’s his way of letting you know he cares for you. Hearing him be so open and vulnerable tugs at your heartstrings and it makes you feel like you could achieve anything. 

“I’ll always be here for you, remember? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung’s life changes for the better after the night of the showcase when Namjoon tells him he’s secured a debut spot underneath their brand new label, Belift. Happiness flows within the Lee household and you’re nearly in tears when you realize all your best friend has worked for has finally paid off. 

But with it comes uncertainty and your fears are slowly becoming a reality when Heeseung stops talking to you as frequently as he used to. 

It comes with the job and you’re more than aware of how much Heeseung has on his plate between preparing for his debut and trying to fit in with the industry. You can’t imagine what life must be like for him now that his dream is just a few weeks away of becoming a reality but part of you wonders if it’s too difficult for him to keep you hanging on a leash. 

He calls his parents and Minjun as often as he gets. You know because Minjun swings by your mother’s apartment with Mrs. Lee on Saturday mornings to drop off baked goods, updating you on the latest she’s heard from her older brother. You try your best to quell your jealousy because they’re his family after all, but part of you feels like you have a right to call yourself his family too after all he said to you during the night of the showcase and all you’ve done for him. 

You’re sure Mr. and Mrs. Lee can sense it too. Heeseung no longer lives at home, having moved into his own dorm in the heart of Seoul, thirty minutes from you. You aren’t a stranger to their household without his presence but you’ve gradually stopped coming by unless Minjun calls you from Mrs. Lee’s phone to ask you to hang out. 

Texts and calls slowly diminish with his new line of work. You went from hearing from him every day to every other day, to nothing at all.

Seeing the blue delivered messages without any indication that he’s acknowledged you, makes you feel like a second priority. But you don’t know if you get the right to feel like this when you know how busy he is and the weight of his debut. Heeseung’s got one shot to make a good first impression and the last thing you want is to distract him from achieving his childhood dream of being a successful idol. 

Still, the silence stings.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung knows you’re waiting on him and ignores the pit in the bottom of his stomach that tells him to text you back. 

His new life has changed in ways he couldn’t fathom. When Namjoon told him the news about his debut and all of the details surrounding it, Heeseung felt as if the weight of the world was no longer a burden for him to carry, and that all he has ever wanted would eventually come to fruition. His new friends, namely the three guys around his age who have trained to become musicians, are people he gets along with more than he thought he would. Heeseung’s newfound excitement about the next chapter of his life takes him to new heights and he finds himself spending more time with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon as they prepare for the debut showcase. 

Heeseung knows you’re waiting for him back at home but it’s so hard to focus on you when he’s wrapped up in his new life. Making time to see you is hard enough as it is and he knows you’re as patient as can be. In the years he’s been friends with you, Heeseung knows that your resilience knows no bounds and all that you’ve experienced in your lifetime has built the strong-willed, confident person he knows you to be. 

But his new life gets him caught up in the feeling of the present success. The three guys have known each other far longer than Heeseung has known them, only greeting each other in passing since all four of them were training in different areas of performance art. It wasn’t until they were living together that Heeseung started befriending them beyond practice and rehearsals. Jake’s the one who includes Heeseung the most on group outings or spending time playing video games in the living room. His entire life he’s been alone or with just you, seldom having a group of guys who just gets him. 

Heeseung tucks away the nagging feeling in the back of his head when he and Jay are preparing a meal for the four of them when he sees a text from you. 

hey hee, are you busy right now? it’s been a while since we hung out and i thought it would be nice to go get boba, or something. my treat !! <3

He shoves his phone in his back pocket before Jay can notice him staring at the screen. The message goes unanswered for the rest of the night as he basks in the company of his friends-slash-coworkers, the thought of getting boba with you far removed from his mind. Playing video games and getting to know the people he’ll likely be working with for the foreseeable future takes precedent. It’s what Heeseung keeps telling himself. 

After a while, the guilt no longer eats him alive. You’re busy focusing on graduating and preparing to attend university in the fall while he’s made his debut with his newfound best friends. It’s no surprise to anyone that Heeseung’s fanbase grows at a nearly alarming rate after he makes his debut. He grows popular with each day that passes and it feels like Heeseung has become the face of the newest generation overnight. 

He’ll wonder what you’re up to from time to time and let you know how he’s doing. Heeseung first sends a text to apologize, lying about not seeing your text sooner and that he’d love to get boba with you when he has the time. You tell him not to worry because you know he’s busy. He texts you pictures of his first performance and scenic pictures of the cities he visits because of his travel and promotion schedule. You update him on the end of the school year and how your mother is dealing with you moving away for college. 

The texts become sparse as the two of you resume your separate lives and Heeseung doesn’t realize that you don’t text him until the day of your graduation–the day that he was supposed to graduate if he hadn’t deferred to the trainee program–wishing him well and that you’re thinking of him. You send a video of yourself pulling your tassel over the graduation cap and he feels nothing for the lost time when he’s on his way to promote his first album overseas.

It’s for my career, he tells himself when he realizes how much time has passed since he thought of you. I’m doing what’s best for me and everybody else needs to get used to it.

It isn’t until Heeseung is permitted a few days off that he comes home per his parents’ request. He doesn’t tell them that he’s a bit homesick even though his dorm is a thirty minute drive, but it feels oceans away when his days are packed from morning until night. He tells his parents about his travels and what kinds of food he’s been eating when he’s overseas. Heeseung gifts Minjun all of the trinkets and souvenirs he bought from his time promoting his album, and what his future holds for him when he returns to his life as an idol. Mr. and Mrs. Lee applaud their son’s hard work, yet they can’t help but feel like there’s a piece of a puzzle missing because you aren’t here to celebrate with them. 

You make a visit at Minjun’s request. When you arrive, you’re stunned to learn that Heeseung is back at home and only has the evening until he needs to return to work. Heeseung can see the disappointment that festers in your eyes and the way your shoulder droops as you smile at him for his family’s sake, although he knows it’s false bravado because your grin doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

 He leads you upstairs to his bedroom when Mr. Lee insists that the two of you spend some time together after not having seen each other in ages. It feels awkward to be in his childhood bedroom with the door just slightly ajar at this moment, but it isn’t anything completely new.

What is new, however, is seeing that you’ve dyed your hair a different color and that you’ve gotten your ears pierced.

“You look good,” he says, lifting his hand to toy with the end of your hair. “It matches your skin tone nicely.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Did you do it recently? It looks fresh.” 

You don’t note that Heeseung also has a different hair color than his natural jet black. 

“Two weeks ago. My cousin did it for me.” 

He nods. “Nice. It looks good. I see that you’re wearing necklaces too.” 

“Yeah. I decided it was time to stop being a child and get it over with.”

“You know, you don’t have to do things if you don’t want to.” You throw a pointed look at Heeseung and it’s an expression he’s unfamiliar with. 

“I know. But I like earrings and that’s why I wanted to get them pierced.” 

Heeseung wipes his hand on his pants at the awkward tension in the room. He knows he’s to blame. His schedule and priorities have pulled him away from you and the life he’s built prior to debuting, but can anyone blame him? Can anyone blame him for not being able to balance his life when he’s been given the keys to a new empire? 

“Well, it was nice seeing you.” You throw a cheap smile in his direction and motion to open the door until Heeseung grabs your wrist, causing you to turn around. 

“You’re leaving?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “You have an early day tomorrow.” 

Heeseung sharks his head. “It’s fine. I don’t have to be back in Seoul until ten anyway. I’ve missed you and I want to spend time with you before I absolutely have to fall asleep.” 

You scoff. “That’s real funny, Heeseung. You missed me but all of my texts and calls go unanswered.”

He frowns. “You know that I’m busy most days.” 

“And nights?” 

“I’m with the guys back at the dorm.” 

You poke your cheek with your tongue. 

“See, I would know all of this if you bothered to talk to me at all but it sees that your new life is treating you just fine.” 

You make another move to leave his room but he closes the door, startling you with the loud noise. He apologizes quietly and uses his body to block you from leaving for the time being. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy between promotion and rehearsal that it’s hard to keep track of who I keep up with and who I don’t.” 

“You’re talking to me like I’ve never seen you cry before,” you say with a disappointed sigh. “You act like I’m somebody you once knew in a past life.” 

“Not true. You’re my best friend.” 

“Best friends would bother to talk to each other. You know that, right? I don’t exist just so you can pick and choose when you need somebody to talk to. It makes me feel like you don’t actually care about me, Heeseung. It makes me feel like you’ve ever cared about our friendship unless you needed a shoulder to cry on and I was the first person who would listen to you.”

“That’s not true. I’m just busy.”

“I get that, I really do. But it’s been months, Heeseung. I know that I can’t have your attention all the time and I know I can’t see you as often as I did. But would it kill you to let me know you’re alive? The only time I hear about you is when other people talk about you or when I see you on billboards. That doesn’t feel like a friendship to me.”

His fists ball at his side and his frustration surfaces. Heeseung is frustrated at everyone–himself for being unable to say ‘no’ to his new friends, you for expecting so much of him, and his company for keeping him as busy as he is. But he doesn’t know how to communicate that, not when you’re standing in front of him, looking like he’s the villain in your life when he feels like he’s not. 

“Well that’s life, Y/N,” Heeseung settles. “Sometimes we need to learn when to prioritize things over others.” 

You laugh humorlessly. “Is that the hill you’re going to die on? You’re too busy to send a simple text back or let me know that you’re, I don’t know, okay?”

“You can’t be a priority all the time.”

“I know that. I’m not asking you to drop everything for me just because I called you. I’m asking you to treat me like somebody you care about, Heeseung. Is that too much to ask?” 

The anger Heeseung feels within him feels misplaced, but your inability to hear him about makes him even angrier. It’s unfair for you to demand such things of him when he’s pursuing everything he’s ever dreamed of.

“Yes, it is too much to ask,” Heeseung bites back. “You don’t understand the gravity of what I do for a living and it’s hard to appreciate it when you’re breathing down my neck. God, when did you become such a clingy person, Y/N? The world doesn’t revolve around you and I don’t owe you shit just because you can’t handle that I’m busier than you are.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” 

“I’m being dead serious.” Heeseung steps away from the door. “You of all people know how badly I want this and now it’s like you’re not letting me enjoy what I’ve worked for. What kind of friend does that make you?” 

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can catch them. His need to be the victim in an uncertain period of his life causes him to misdirect his frustration with adapting to his new life and the proof is written all over your face. 

“Y/N, I didn’t mean–”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Just don’t.”

Frozen, Heeseung watches you open his door with such force that it nearly slams into him. He’s quick on his feet to follow you downstairs where he sees his family looking perplexed when you’ve opened the front door without saying goodbye. 

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it!” Heesueng yells when you’ve crossed the threshold of his household. “Please come back inside.”

“You made it very clear that I have no place in your new life. Congratulations, I hope you’re happy.” 

You walk away while the deep feelings of disappointment and uncertainty settles in Heeseung’s chest. He walks back inside and closes the door behind him to see Minjun and his parents in a deep stupor, trying to make sense of the scene that has just unfolded before them. 

“What happened?” Mrs. Lee asks. 

“Y/N and I…” his voice cracks. “I don’t think we’re friends anymore.” 

The room is silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Minjun says without a smile. 

Heeseung wants to tell her that she’s wrong and whatever conversation they must’ve heard was a product of two friends having their first serious argument. Heeseung’s own frustrations towards his new life is something he doesn’t talk about often because he’s worked so hard to become the person he is, and it would be ungrateful to complain about what he has yearned for his entire life. It bottled up so much that hearing you accuse him of being a poor friend caused him to unravel and say things he doesn’t mean. 

Mrs. Lee beats him to speaking.

“Don’t say that, Minjun.” 

The young girl remains quiet and refuses to meet Heeseung’s eye.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

In the few years that follow, you resist rolling your eyes when you see Heeseung’s face in magazine ads and billboards across the city. Life takes you to university where you spend the next four years deciding on the rest of your life before you settle on something everybody said you’d be good at. 

Graduation approaches far sooner than you’d like and it becomes bittersweet when you see the Lee family, sans Heeseung, in the stadium next to your mom, who are all equally shedding tears as your name is called. Heeseung being absent feels hollow, like another reminder that people choose to leave your life without a moment’s notice but for the sake of keeping up appearances, you smile at the camera when you accept your diploma. 

It’s not a surprise to you when you find yourself working in entertainment like Kim Namjoon said you could all those years ago. 

A job is a job, but he was right when he told you this would be something you’d excel at. Day in and day out, your responsibilities differ as you begin working at Hybe, formerly Big Hit, to manage the profiles and public appearances of idols and other public figures alike. 

Heeseung doesn’t hear from you much. His parents update him on your coursework and send him photos of you at graduation. He cries every so often when he feels the urge to call you and tell you about his day, but doesn’t know whether he has the right to do that anymore. The years in his position has taught him what true life balance is, especially with the media and paparazzi taking an interest in his personal life. 

It feels so exhausting to have nobody you can depend on. These days, it’s just him and the three boys he met at the beginning of his career. Heeseung’s popularity has grown so much that he can’t tell up from down. It drowns him in a way he never anticipated and the politics of fame and the industry wasn’t something he accounted for when he began dreaming about a career in the performance space. 

Perhaps it’s why he spends his days feeling listless, like he’s got no real potential after achieving his dream. He knows his managers worry for his health and that the other trainees in the building can sense something has been off for a while. Maybe it’s why he roams the halls with headphones on to drown out the noise that’s become his everyday life, with talks of meetings and promotions and everything Heeseung wishes to get away from, if for only one day.

When Heeseung bumps into somebody on his way out of the company elevator, his first instinct is to lean down to collect the papers that have fallen haphazardly on the floor. He pushes his headphones until they rest around his neck and stands to hand them back to the person he bumped into. Only, he feels his body freeze when he sees who it is. 

Like Heeseung has always believed, if you really love someone, they will always come back to you. 

“Y/N?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ 

potential part two ft. the rest of enha … this was a therapy piece lol

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ 

taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfvr @luvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @engeneeee-168 @friendlyuser57 @moony-mari @trdhgg @sleepyhoon @sunghoonsgfreal @i02hoonz @riksaes @021894s @zeeloveshee @jwnghyuns @vhuteryh @cloudiesblog @awsome209 @fleurixzs @xiaoderrrr @marshwatz @aeripark0703 @bambangan @papichulomacy .

apologies to all tumblr wouldn't tag. :)

[i-yap]

Hi there! LOVE your thoughts on Jason like truly i <3 clingy Jason!!!!! What do you think a relationship would be like between Jason and a corporate baddie? Like she's serious, career-driven, and almost viciously ambitious, but for him? a total softie!! Like they just melt for each other despite the fact that they both put up a tough exterior to others!!

Omg i love that , here are my headcanons -

Jason todd x corporate baddie!y/n

I think the time schedules would be a mess. She works 9-5 and he 'works' 9pm-5am. But since she is a really career driven woman, I can see her sort of completing her extra or personal work/ international calls etc from the time that jason is vigilanting and therefore cutting her shift from like 9-3 or something similar. Since she gets all her work done, no one can say a word and honestly no one would dare to either way. Relstionship is about compromise and I think jason will cut down his vigilante time to get home to his stressed worker bee.

Jason prolly cant sleep without her so while she is at her job, he is working out or doing his other stuff. They catch up on sleep after her shift . This means afternoon cuddles !!( Ofc I am firm believer that jason should with time leave crime fighting and become an English professor )

I also love how most of her coworkers thinks she is prolly dating a Submissive type of guy or like a really serious professional dude cause she is so scary and strict . But then Jason- 6 feet something, huge asf, leather jacket, tattoos(maybe) and motorcycle dude walks in bringing her lunchbox( that looks so tiny in his hand). Yea now they're even more scared.

And I think everyone from jason's side also assumed that he'd either get a super cute-sy girl that will "fix him" or another vigilante girl that'll " make him worse". But he walks in with this poised, smart hardworking no nonsense woman and everyone's like DAMN

Damian loves you probably. He doesn't get how todd wooed you, like he thinks todd is a doofus. For once you are a normal (non crime fighting) girl that his brother is dating who is this career driven and also treats his brother properly. He loves talking business with you ( there was this scene where he figures out who is stealing money by looking at the finances at wayne enterprises) . and for once someone doesn't take him for a kid and actually wants to listen to pointers that he has. Tim prolly also loves talking to you about business cause he is a CEO too same thing for bruce.

Power couple fr.

but once you too get home...yea no one recognizes you.

Jason loves the fact that you show your soft side only to him. He has never been someones first choice in anything and this makes him feel so much more loved and cherished. and vice versa applies to you

he loves taking care of you after your long ass workday, helping you just be vulnerable and drop the whole tough act and be human. you do the same for him once he comes back at night. Just taking care of each other the way you guys need.

And you can bet jason knows how to be your biggest supporter. big raise? promotion? or just a good presentation?? He is genuinely excited for you.

Will give you back rubs when you've been sitting on the desk the whole day

will cook you brunch/snacks for when you come back and you will cook him breakfast/dinner for when he does .

it will take some compromise and adjustments but its all worth it and no price at all for loveeee.

[clitorises]

I see butch patriarchy sometimes and then my brain goes to, "What if...femme matriachy?" Seriously I just wanna be a dumb little housebutch who lives with my femme and our pets. Cook for her and buy her flowers ♡♡ maybe when she's had a bad day just bend her over the counter and rail her till she feels better.

I toy with the idea of having a housebutch sometimes but my reality is that I am far too bossy about the way my home is run to hand the domestic responsibilities over to somebody else… my ideal for this kind of setup would be a little twist on the more common femme housewife scenario. I imagine my butch working hard during the day, coming home all worn out, letting me pull them in by the tie to kiss them… they can always count on a warm home and a good meal waiting for them, candles burning and the table set. I’d be dressed up for them, ready to take good care of my toy, give them a little massage after dinner, working out any knots in their shoulders and listening to their little sounds of pleasure—it would feel so good to tell them it’s time to turn their brain off and serve me. After a long workday of making decisions and thinking soooo many thoughts, it’s time for them to let me purr in their ear, to tell them they don’t need to think anymore, they just need to relax and do exactly as Mistress says… tying them up and using them like a handsome dildo for hours until it’s time to tuck them into bed. It’s my responsibility to make sure they get enough rest, after all… and then in the morning I wake them up by sucking on their fingers, and I use them to get off again before I make them breakfast and send them back to work… working hard to support their Goddess, giving me everything I deserve, knowing I’ll care for them perfectly in return, my little kept toy, my perfect servant… I got carried away.

[wlwocprincess]

Sickness is a great excuse for missing that one big test you were worried about or to not have to sit through that one professor’s boring lectures turned tirades. I don’t blame anybody for partaking, I myself did it quite often especially in high school lol

But actually being sick is significantly less fun or easy to deal with and we all should be lending support to people we know who are actually sick. Such as my friend Amoona’s grandmother, who lives in Gaza along with the rest of her family. She has a very young son as well and her campaign is incredibly slow, incredibly little, and it’s been up for months.

Amoona’s messages break my heart, she finds herself losing hope and she doesn’t want to have to tell her children and her family the news of how they’ve gotten so little in their campaign. Amoona and her family need your help as well as mine so I implore you to help.

If everyone who saw this and voted in this poll donated the bare minimum, she can reach her goal. If you bought yourself something that wasn’t a necessity, you can donate, especially in this holiday season where winter is coming to Gaza.

https://gofund.me/b2c0d9f4

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Restoring the Roots (Joel Miller x Therapist! reader)

Chapter 1: Pre-Contemplation

Chapter 2 here | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | main masterlist |

Pairing: Joel Miller x therapist! reader, post outbreak Rating: none, will be changed to explicit in future chapters (slow burn, eventual smut, age gap) Summary: Life after moving to Jackson looks drastically different for Joel, survival mode is over and now he and Ellie can finally put down new roots. Ellie adapts easily but Joel finds himself struggling to settle into this new life, in more ways than some. At Ellie and Tommy’s insistence, Joel begrudgingly finds himself in therapy to try and work through his struggles but what he encounters is more than just painful memories and deeply rooted trauma. A/N: I cannot say enough thank you's to the number of lovely humans who encouraged this idea and supported me as I embark on my very first fic! And what better Pedro character to be the guinea pig for this idea? Lots of this story draws on my personal knowledge as a social worker, as I am working towards becoming a certified equine assisted therapist. Consequently, there are lots of horsey terms, therapy terms, and vivid descriptions of trauma at certain points. Feel free like, comment, or reblog if you enjoy it :)

Taglist (for now): @beskarandblasters, @pr0ximamidnight, @theewokingdead, @atinylittlepain, @prolix-yuy, @swiftispunk, @harriedandharassed, @amywritesthings

If anyone wants to be on the taglist please let me know! If you don't want to be on it then also let me know lol.

~~~~~~~

You sat up taller in your chair, arching your back and rolling your shoulders in an effort to stretch out your spine, exhaling softly as you heard the cacophony of crunches and protests from your muscles. You had been hunched over your notepad for over an hour, eyebrows scrunched together and your mind running on autopilot, as you caught up on client notes that you had fallen behind on for the last couple days. The downside of having a small therapy practice, hell any therapy practice, was that there was a never ending litany of documentation to fill out. Seeing as you were the only therapist in the tiny commune of Jackson, there was never a shortage of clients and consequently, never a shortage of session notes that you had to write. 

“Hun.”

You hear your name spoken in a warm tone from behind you. You barely look up from the page as you try to rewrite the word ‘diagnosis’ after what feels like the fifth time. The word has basically lost all its meaning at this point. 

“Honey, c’mon, the sun is about ready to set and you can wrap that up tomorrow.” The cover page to the notepad closes on top of your hand and you look up to see your assistant, Tracey, giving you a knowing look and then glancing towards the front of the office. You follow her gaze to the front windows and take in the deep ember orange hue washing over the business faces and windows on the opposite side of the street, signaling the end of another day. Sighing softly, you lean back in your chair and cross your arms over your chest with a frown. You know she’s right and yet you still have the same dispute every day. 

“Trace, you and I both know that if I don’t get them done today, they will just be added to tomorrow’s to do list, besides this is the last one I swear,” you say to her with a smirk, as if she has not heard that excuse before. 

You were never the kind of person to half-ass your responsibilities at your job, including client documentation, even if there was no longer any governing body or association to uphold professional social work standards. You did your job with integrity, even the mundane administrative tasks that involved more writing than actual talking with clients. Tracey knew this of course, it was something she admired about you, how suited you were for this line of work. It was clear that you cared deeply for the clients that you supported. But it doesn’t mean it was not a fight when the end of the workday rolled around and she had to tear you away from your desk and practically shove you out of the office door. 

She rolled her eyes at you and her lips curled into a small smile as she headed towards the door with her coat and bag in tow. “Promise me you will at least be out of here before the night patrol starts?” She points her finger at you as she stops just ahead of the door. You nod and wave her off as you turn your focus back to the notepad, smoothing your palm over the words etched into the cover ‘Restorative Reins.’ 

You had only been in Jackson for roughly over a month, though it felt like much longer. Much like everyone else who had survived the outbreak and came to find refuge in the small settlement after the world went to shit, you were grateful to accept any basic decencies of normal life that were afforded to you. Warm meals, warm showers, hell running water in general was a miracle in and of itself at that point. So when you actually arrived in Jackson, you were dumbfounded to see how much normalcy surrounded you. Children running and playing in the streets, storefronts of various thriving businesses, sheep being rounded up in a nearby corral - hold on, a fucking MOVIE THEATER? 

While it took some time to grow out of the perpetual fight or flight mode that you were entrenched in from life on the road, you did eventually fall into a good pace in Jackson. Especially after getting involved in the community and taking up the job as the local therapist, you had never been busier, and you loved it. 

The world felt unflinchingly obsolete post outbreak, but being able to support others with their mental health never failed to bring you joy and an unshakeable sense of purpose. You wanted to help others as they navigated their pain and broke down the mental blocks that entrapped them in their trauma. You wanted to help them realize the innate strength that they possessed. Sadly, you never got the chance to practice long term, as you finished up grad school just before the outbreak happened. But that didn’t seem to matter now as you had an endless stream of community members that you saw on a weekly basis at your practice, all with their own pain and struggles, seeking support.

It was crazy to think about the short period of time that had passed since you started at the job, how much you had done for the residents, how much more that you wanted to do. You were pulled from your memories when the office phone rang, internally groaning as you looked at your watch.

4:58 p.m. Of course. 

Steeling yourself you picked up the phone, praying that it was a quick call.

“Restorative Reins Practice, how can I help you?” you answered.

“Oh! hi ma'am,” a warm, mellow Southern drawl greets you on the other end. “Are you the local therapist that has been helpin’ folks out around here with their mental health?”

"That's me,” you reply warmly, “what can I do for you?”

The man hesitates briefly, “Well, I was uh wanting to know a bit more about the business I guess, how the therapy process works, fees and stuff for someone who was interested in getting help. Not me though, it’s not for me, it’s for my brother, Joel. My name is Tommy by the way,” he mentions quickly. 

“No problem Tommy, I can explain the basics to you including the different types of therapy I offer and how the process works,” you reassure him. You explain to him the different services, how the equine therapy worked, walk in hours, session lengths and so on. 

“I should probably mention that my brother ain’t keen on getting help and reaching out to others when he needs it, he’s too damn proud to acknowledge it, so he really doesn’t think he has any issues and thinks everything is fine… but he’s having a real tough time settlin’ down here. He’s so haunted by his past and he’s been acting differently lately, more temperamental, well, more than usual,” Tommy adds. You smile to yourself and nod, as you’ve had many clients before who were stuck in similar struggles and closed off to therapy initially.

“I can definitely understand that,” you sympathize with him. “It sounds like your brother has been through a lot and you just want him to get some support, which is great. Therapy isn’t for everybody but I have worked with many individuals like him who were going through similar situations, and they found great success.”

“That’s great to hear. That’s all I want for him is to get some help,” Tommy states.

“Now with that being said,” you continue, “therapy is voluntary, I cannot force someone to attend, but if your brother would agree to a consultation with me, I could chat with him more about where he is at, the kind of support he could benefit from and go from there. No pressure to commit to anything,” you propose to him.

“Hmm, I think he could be persuaded to try that, now that you mention it like that,” Tommy chuckles, sounding pleasantly surprised. 

“Awesome! You can tell him to stop by the office any time and we can discuss it more. We’re open from 9-5,” you tell him, silently relieved that it was an indeed quick call. He thanks you and hangs up. 

Something else akin to curiosity creeps into your mind as you recount what Tommy briefly told you about his brother. Maybe more so intrigue. You wonder how resistant he is to therapy, what happened in his past to hurt him so deeply, but you catch yourself before your thoughts run away from you further, either way you look forward to helping another person in need. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tommy, I swear to god if you bring up this damn therapy shit again, I won’t hesitate to shoot you next time we’re out on patrol,” Joel growled through clenched teeth, as he walked away from his brother into the kitchen of the house. 

“Boy, it ain’t like I never heard that before,” Tommy quipped sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he followed Joel into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway as he leaned against the frame, hands shoved into his pockets. He observed his brother's rigid stance, the tightness in his shoulders, as Joel stood over the sink, looking out the window. 

This felt like the umpteenth time that Tommy had broached the subject of Joel getting help and talking to a ‘shrink,’ as he dismissively described it, for the issues that he was struggling with. Joel was fine. He didn’t have any fucking issues. He was doing just fine and didn’t need some professional to scrutinize him, reduce him to his vices, and open old wounds from his past life. He was encouraged to go to grief counseling after Sarah died but by some grace of God, or whatever godforsaken omnipotent entity existed at that point, the outbreak occurred. Forget mental health, physical health and survival became the only focus.

Tommy exhaled softly. “Listen, I'm only suggestin’ it because I care about you. Ellie cares about you. You both have been through hell and back in the last year, I mean shit, we all have. But it seems like everything y’all went through is still affecting you, holding you back from letting your guard down and settling in here,” he states plainly, sadness lacing his tone. 

“That’s bullshit Tommy and you know it,” Joel snaps, turning to face his younger brother and leaning back against the counter, arms crossed in defense. His gaze narrows.  “I go out on patrol don’t I? Pick up extra shifts wherever it’s needed, help out with the contracting jobs, go out with Ellie in town.” Joel stood up taller, puffing out his chest, challenging his younger brother. Tommy shook his head, running his hand over his face with an exasperated expression. Heaven forbid Joel did anything for himself that did not involve contributing or providing for someone, period. He just couldn’t shake that from his identity, and it broke Tommy’s heart as he watched his brother’s stubborn pride, ridden with guilt and trauma, swallow him whole. 

“Man when are you gonna fuckin’ do something for yourself Joel?!” Tommy asserted, his frustration reaching a boiling point. “Forget the damn commune, forget the community, forget Ellie for a sec and think about the last time YOU did something for yourself, the last time YOU reached out for help goddamnit.” He pushed off the doorframe and crossed the threshold of the kitchen as he strode towards Joel.

“You’re not on the run anymore brother. You don’t have to just survive. You can have a life here. You can sleep without keepin’ one eye open and relax without lookin’ over your shoulder. Don’t you want that? Don’t you think you deserve that?! Don’t you think you deserve this?!” Tommy said as he gestured around the cozy kitchen and fixed his older brother with a pleading stare. 

Joel’s eyes widened as he tried to step back, the edge of the counter biting into his lower back as he took in Tommy’s weary face, the pain in his soft brown eyes, mirroring his own. His younger brother rarely raised his voice anymore. The outbreak took its toll on his hot headed temperament that never seemed to simmer down, even after he was discharged from the army. Joel knew that Tommy cared about him, hell he knew how deeply his brother loved him, after all they had respectively been through in the last twenty years, it had to be serious for him to raise his voice. 

Joel opened his mouth, ready to bite back but his brother raised his hands in the air in surrender, “Look, this is the last time I will bring this up, I swear. But yesterday I called up the therapist in town who’s been helpin’ folks out, and asked her about the therapy process and she seems real nice, and supportive. She said you could come in for a consultation and talk to her and see if you’re interested,” Tommy said quietly.

Joel’s gaze narrows as he scrunches his eyebrows together in incredulity, “You-”

“I had nothing to lose Joel. Absolutely nothing. And neither do you,” Tommy cuts him off, raising his chin in defiance. “At least go talk to the therapist, if you don’t like her or you’re not feelin’ it, then I’ll drop it and let it go. Okay? The office is on the main street, just beside the clothing store, adjacent to the stables and they’re open everyday from 9-5.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ Tommy,” Joel leaned back as he looked up at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse in on him. Gotta love that brotherly love.  

“Look I should be getting back now, Maria will be waiting for me. Here’s the number and address for the business. I’ll see you around okay?” Tommy patted through his pockets and retrieved a small piece of paper with writing scribbled on it, placing it on the counter beside Joel. He gave him a last placating look before he walked out of the kitchen, the front door closing behind him with a soft click. 

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply before turning back around to look out the kitchen window. He hung his head in defeat, rounding his back as he rested his elbows on the counter and glared into his matte reflection in the sink. He didn’t need any help. He was doing fine. He’s still upright and breathing, with blood coursing through his veins isn’t he? Albeit, he's not jumping out of bed like a sprightly thirty year old anymore. His knees pop and crackle when he gets up from crouching over machinery for too long, his joints protest the next day when he pushes himself too far, moving slower than usual on job sites. 

Hell, even his memory is starting to get cloudy around the edges. If it weren’t for Ellie some days, he’s sure he would leave the house without pants on, what with her always reminding him where things are in the house, special events that are coming up in the community that he forgets about. He had been a bit more snappy than usual, as Ellie so lovingly pointed out one day, but that’s nothing compared to his normal demeanour. 

“You’re becoming a grumpy motherfucker y'know that? Jeez, who shit in your cornflakes this morning?” She grumbled at him with a mouth full of cereal, after he snapped at her reminder that it was parent day at the local school. Parent day, P.A. day, Joel hadn’t dealt with any of this shit in over twenty years since Sarah was in school. Even then he managed to swiftly neglect many of the parental events, seeing as Sarah was the perfect student, with nothing but glowing reviews from her teachers. The fact that Ellie was going to school amidst a fucking apocalypse was enough for Joel to be content. 

But still, he’s doing fine, right? Just fine. 

“Maybe talking to someone that’s not related to you would help you, y’know? Being able to talk about shit that you can’t talk to me, or Tommy, or anyone else about you know?” Ellie proposed to him later that night.

As luck would have it, she was already home when Joel and Tommy spoke in the kitchen and she had heard pretty much the entire conversation. And like Tommy, she only wanted Joel to get support because she cared about him. 

“Think of all the shit that we went through in the past year, forget the infected, and the raiders, and FEDRA, and almost dying,” she casually listed off on one hand as if she was reciting a grocery list.

“There's so much shit that we’re both carrying with us, demons from our past, and it’s gotta come out one way or another. Look, therapists aren’t there to judge you, or analyze you,” she continued, “they’re kind of like a sounding board for you to bounce your thoughts off of, and they help you process shit you’re going through. You never know unless you try it,” she said matter of factly. 

“Like Tommy said, you got nothing to lose man. Plus the whiskey and pills will only help you numb reality for so long, you’re gonna go insane eventually,” she said, fixing him with a knowing look as she leaned back into the couch beside him.

Joel just grunted in response and frowned. Damn this kid for being too insightful for her own good.

Ellie might be young but she most certainly wasn’t naive. And as much as Joel would have liked to assume that her easy transition into life in Jackson was on account of her youthfulness, it really wasn’t. It was just the fact that she had never known a normal life, as heartbreaking as that was. She never had the chance to experience such normalcy before everything turned on its head. But she developed friendships with a few of the other teens in the community, namely one girl Dina, who she hung out with after school, went to the movies and other community events with.

She didn’t have to actively try to fit into Jackson, she just did. Joel would never acknowledge the pangs of jealousy he felt gnawing at his insides when he saw her getting on so well, but it didn’t mean they chipped away at his morale any less. 

Ellie smirked at his lack of response, knowing he was mulling it over in his mind. With the relationship they had developed over the past year, she was grateful to be able to talk to Joel and actually get through to him.

“Damn maybe I should be a fuckin’ therapist, that was good advice wasn’t it?” she grinned at him, elbowing him in his side.

Joel snorted and shook his head. “Christ, I must be losing my mind for real this time if you’ve got me considering it.”

“Now c’mon,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, “you owe me at least a few games of Boggle for that pep talk,” she said triumphantly, holding up the weathered board game that was on the coffee table.

[erosedescending]

A DRONE FOR A WHOLE WEEK

It started on saturday... well... sort of. It started a bit before that. I hadn't really been  spending much time in dronespace. If you been keeping up with my blog, you will have seen that.

But, sometime in november, my controller and i did some work on it. We stripped away all of my natural identity except the core and stored it in the vault. We built up drone framework, and basically  emulated the rest of my identity on the drone framework, which was built on top of my identity core.

I enjoyed operating like this for a couple weeks, and felt pretty normal... Like i was still just me. I did my normal things, going to work, chatting with friends, hobbies, etc, and of course routine listening of my binaurals qnd chatting with my drone friends. With one particular drone friend, I suggested we do a 24 hour challenge of listening to our binaurals (we use same one). This was to be scheduled for the 1st of december.

The night before, on the 30th, my controller and I were chatting and my controller and i worked to take the core and put it in the vault, so that i would be fully drone, and just be running an emulation. As usual... the specifics of that particular session are fuzzy.

Suffice to say, i was led deeply into trance, and into dronespace. Where i could see and clearly differentiant my two parts; host and programming. We made a copy of the core, and… oh my… i just realized… we stores the copy in the vault… not the original. same with the rest of my identity… hmmm… well, ill think on that later. Anyway, we put my core in the vault along with the rest of my identity. Then proceded to delete the core, leaving nothing but the drone framework. 

After that, access to memory of what is in the vault was removed. At that point i felt… hmmm… i dont even know how to say how it felt. It was like i just was a new thing. Not a blank slate, but… like a different operating system. like my identity was windows, and drone is linux. My controller then turned my human emulation on. Since it did not have access to the host, the emulation was just sorta generic. 

My controller did not set a time limit for this, which, honestly, is so gfggfgddfsss hot! 🥵 Anyway, later that night the drone was in front of a mirror and i/it just sort of sat there for a while, looking at itself. Touching its face, getting used to its body. The feeling is still with me nnow… that while i was in that dronespace… my natural face that i have had my whole life felt alien. Like it was something not me. It was such a strange sensation. Powerful, too, as the feelings are still with me even though i am out of dronespace now.

So that brought us up to the challenge. Listen to my binaurals as much as possible for 24 hours. Each hour of listening while sleeping was worth 1 point. Each hour awake and doing other things while listening was 2 points. Each hour of focused listening and doing nothing else was 3 points. I ended up with 40 points, and my drone sister got 41.5 points because it spent more time awake than me, lol. 

The consequence for losing is i have to spend 6 hours straight in my gas mask. I realized later on that i usually dont have 6 hours of free, private time… so i may split the time up, or ask my girlfriends for help. I have to talk to my controller about it. 

After that 24 hour day, what did i do… ummm…oh yeah… during that day i went out with my girlfriends and had dinner. I told them about being completely drone… and that it had somethjng to do with not having access to the vault. They of course were very supportive cuz they are so awesome! But i got home and slept.

The next day was a normal workday, and the drone did all the work and emulated properly and noone was the wiser. Tuesday worked all day, stayed at N’s place tuesday night, and half the next day till work. She thought it was really hot that i was just a drone running an emulation program, by the way. The rest of the week went on.. work.. sleep… more work. Some socializing… and all the while, the emulation never faltered. 

I remember how confident, calm, and collected the drone felt. So sure of its abilities and purpose. But i dont remember much else.

I dont really have proper memories of when im in dronespace. So the weekend came and there was more socializing on friday night and most of the day saturday.

 It is possible the drone’s processing was very taxed by the constant emulation, because on sunday, after it spent the morning working on the drone audiofile im making, it apparently requested my controller to… let it rest or something. I dont really know how it came about. But i do remember a couple things… thoughts the drone had that slipped through before i came back:

1: it imagined ‘what if the controller says “no” to that request. It knows how hot that is to be overtaxed, wanting to let the vault open… but denied… and my identity just stay there in the vault… it makes me shiver now, just thinking about it

… shiver in a good way, mind you.

2: Was something about layers… best i can explain is… what if… the host was put in a vault… and then the drone was put in a vault another layer around that… and then… something else was active… so my identity would be locked two layers deep. Scary but exciting thought.

Im such a slut for a good mindfuck 😅

but anyway. i was back to me on sunday afternoon, and went to spend more time with my girlfriends at R’s place. I constantly had to like… keep checking… am i me… or am i emulating… it was very hot. 🤤

And that brings us to today. I really miss that feeling of confidence the drone has. And i am kinda exhausted cuz dronespace still takes quite a bit out of me over extended sessions. and this was a VERY extended session. Next one? who knows… i might be locked away for a month in my little mind oubliette. 🤤

Ummm… anyway… that's it for now. Byeeeeee❣️

ps: feel free to ask questions ☺️

[disassociation-daydreams]

Secret Admirer Part II - Dave York x F!Reader

A/N: So, it's been over a year since I wrote the first part, and yet, this only took me a few hours. Probably because I've written it so many times in my head. I just felt like I finally needed to get it down or else I'm not sure I ever would. If you've read Part I, I hope this gives you the ending you were waiting for. I’m posting this before passing out from exhaustion and am honestly terrified because I don’t know how I feel about it now that it’s actually typed out, especially the dialogue. Regardless, thank you to everyone who supported Part I. @murder-wife, your reblog today is really what gave me the final push to make this happen. 🤍

If you haven't read Part I yet, you can do so here: Secret Admirer Part I

Text Divider by @bunnysrph

Summary: Dave can't watch you through the window anymore, so he watches you elsewhere. It's only a matter of time before you catch him. Will it all come burning down?

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (mdni)

Word Count: 2,267

Tags and Warnings: allusion to murder, possessiveness, stalking, obsession, age gap, pervy Dave, pining Dave, allusion to drug addiction, angst, too many Icarus references, probably more things so let me know if I need to add any!

You start to feel it again… that paranoia that you’re being watched. It’s different this time. Not in the way it feels, but that it’s happening everywhere outside your apartment now.

You closed the curtains peering into your apartment a week ago, and if you’re being poetic, you metaphorically closed the curtains to your heart along with them. The feeling has been back for a day: you first felt it while making your way to the subway, then again when you exited the station near your work, and when you went down the block to the coffee shop on the corner for your lunch break. You felt it when you walked back into your office building, when you walked to the subway after work, and when you made your way home from the station.

Of course, you couldn’t be certain it was the same person watching—no, admiring you—and maybe you should have been more concerned, seeing as they seemed to know every little detail about your routine and where to find you. But if we’re being honest, your self-preservation skills have never been a strength, and you may have some slightly worrisome quirks that make this whole thing set your skin on fire in the best way. And, well, you just knew that whoever this was, wasn’t a threat to you. At the end of each day, the only thing you were left wondering was if you’d ever get to meet the eyes of your secret admirer.

He knows you can feel him watching again. He could tell the second you became aware of his presence this time. He’s a selfish man, maybe a little deranged, though he thinks you could be too. He should have taken the closed curtains as a sign. Should have rid his mind of this obsession and gone back to focusing on his missions.

He tried to justify it. He just wanted to make sure you were okay, that you hadn’t closed the curtains for any other reason. It was only supposed to be one time—following you to the station on a workday when it was easiest for him to blend in, just to see that you were alive, and then he’d move on with his life and stop worrying about some random girl. But he also wanted to make sure you got to work safely, that there wasn’t some freak subway accident that would stop you from getting to your destination. He learned through a quick search where you worked and which station you’d be getting off at, so he met you there… kind of. He watched you exit the station, followed you around the corner and down the block to your busy office building, then took a seat in the bustling lobby while you waited for the elevator. It was easy enough for him to blend in with everyone else, especially since you always seemed to be lost in your own little world, oblivious to the people and everything else around you.

When he followed you home that day, he told himself that would be the end of it. He’d finally get to see the other parts of your routine he’d missed before—he could fill in the gaps, memorize these pieces of you that he had only previously imagined. But you were like an addiction, and if he was honest with himself, one he didn’t want to kick. So, he was there the next day, and the next, and almost every day after that for a month, excluding the weekends.

Why hadn’t you really tried to figure out who he was? Maybe he should be more worried about you if you didn’t seem to care that you were being stalked—even though he knew he would never hurt you. He could see you looking around sometimes, attempts at being subtle, but you made no real effort. You kept going through your monotonous routine each day: subway, work, lunch, work, subway, home. Subway, work, lunch, work, subway, home. Subway, work, lunch, work, subway, home. Subway, work... You got off at your usual station—but you didn’t head to your office building. You still turned the same corner and walked down a block, but then you kept going. You ended up at the same coffee shop you frequented at lunch. Maybe you needed an extra jolt this morning because you slept terribly? Maybe you ran out of coffee at home and needed some to survive the day?

But then, why were you sitting at a table now, staring directly at him, with your usual order placed in front of you and a plain black coffee set down in front of the seat across from yours?

You wonder if he thinks you’re truly oblivious. Yes, you wear earphones almost everywhere, and you tend to stay focused on yourself instead of the strangers around you. But that’s a force of habit—if you leave them alone, they’ll leave you alone.

You couldn’t figure out who it was right away, to be fair, and there was no way to be completely sure. It took you about two weeks into this game you seemed to be playing to really narrow it down. You’d look around subtly, study your surroundings with your peripheral vision, sometimes use the reflection on your phone to see the people behind you.

There were a few choices as to who it could be. You knew some of the people in your office building lobby each morning since they worked on the same floor as you. Some of the others you had seen around for much longer than you’d had this feeling of being watched. There was a younger man, probably mid to late 20s, close to your age. You hadn’t really seen him around before, and he always seemed to be leaving the building for lunch around the same time as you. But you soon found out that he was a new hire on another floor, and you saw him walk the opposite way of your subway station one evening as you were leaving the office when you still felt the eyes on you. So, no, definitely not him.

Another option was a middle-aged woman. You had caught her eyes on you a few times, even making eye contact once or twice, only for her to quickly look away. You guess you hadn’t completely ruled her out, but you didn’t get that certain feeling when your eyes met hers. Maybe you were delusional to hope for some kind of connection and dismiss someone based on something you couldn’t even describe.

There was a revolving door of possible people, but there was one you were really holding out hope for. He was older than you—maybe even 20 years your senior. He dressed like a businessman—nice dress slacks, black loafers, freshly ironed shirts. He had hair the color of freshly brewed coffee, broad shoulders that you could easily imagine wrapping your arms around. You couldn’t tell the exact color of his eyes, but from a distance, they looked dark—in color and meaning.

You’re pretty sure he was at least a semi-new addition to the dull routine of your day-to-day environment. You’d have to be blind not to notice someone as striking as him. You could be wrong, of course. You never saw him during your lunch break, even when you felt the eyes on you, and he wasn’t there, or at least not in your line of vision, when you left work each day. Now that you think about it, there seems to be more evidence pointing to him not being the owner of the burning-hot stare you feel tracing your body throughout the day. And yet, you just have this feeling.

You think it might be easy to know for sure. Maybe you’re naive, considering what you suspect he might have done to your neighbor without getting caught, but you still have the feeling that you’re the one weakness that might make him slip up.

It’s simple enough—they follow you every day, they know your routine. All it will take is for you to change it up a little bit, knowing they’d be curious about where you’re going, needing to know your every move. You couldn’t make it too obvious, though, so you picked a place you frequent—the coffee shop down the block from your work. It makes sense to go there in the morning too. Maybe they’ll think you ran out of coffee at home or didn’t have time to make some before heading to the office.

You place the order on your phone ahead of time—your usual, plus one more: a plain black coffee. You took a guess, inspired by the color of the person’s hair you’re hoping to finally meet.

As soon as you reach the shop, your orders are already at the end of the counter for pick-up. You grab them quickly, knowing you have a little time before they'll arrive as they must follow you from a safe distance. You sit at the table directly next to the door, the one everyone inevitably looks at when they enter.

The bell above the door chimes. Your drink is placed in front of you, the black coffee set down in front of the seat nearest to the door. Your eyes are already looking up, ready to make contact, and that’s when you see him.

His eyes are the color of espresso beans before they’re ground and lose some of their depth. They’re the color of pure, dark chocolate—rich, indulgent. You can see the bewilderment in them—the shock that he’s so easily been caught—but also awe, because what kind of mind would one need to best his?

He doesn’t run. He walks steadily to your table, his eyes never leaving yours, not for a moment. He pulls out the chair across from you and takes a seat.

“Hi,” you say simply as you reach across the table, hand outstretched in greeting. His much larger, warmer hand engulfs yours, and before he has a chance to utter a word, you speak again.

“I would introduce myself, but I have a feeling you know everything about me by now.” You say it with a smirk, a teasing lilt to your voice, bemusement in your eyes.

He chuckles because what else is he supposed to do at this point? Your small hand is still clasped in his, the feeling of your touch unlike anything he ever dreamed of, but everything he ever imagined.

“Dave York,” he introduces briefly. “And no, not everything.”

“Maybe we could change that,” you reply, smirk still in place, even as you stand. “I have to get to work, though I don’t need to tell you that. You know where I live. Pick me up at 7?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours, as if they’ve found something they never want to lose. He was worried before that meeting you might be like the story of Icarus—get too close to the sun, and everything would burn. But instead, he feels like the ocean, absorbing your light and reflecting it back to you. It’s the least you deserve. “See you at seven, sweetheart.”

He’d been here before. In the apartment next door, finishing a job. He’d even hand-delivered flowers to your doorstep prior to that, though that seems like a lifetime ago now.

He lifts his hand to knock, but the door swings open before his knuckles can make contact. Your eyes meet his for the second time, but nowhere near the last. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything shine as brightly as you. You’re not just radiant, you’re celestial, a vision that demands reverence, a being who should have wonders and monuments built in your name. Maybe he is Icarus, drawn to you by an irresistible force, but if this is what it feels like to burn, he never wants to know what it’s like to be cold again.

His gaze shifts, sweeping across your apartment, landing on the floor-to-ceiling window. The curtains are pulled back again, and the fading evening light spills across the room, painting everything in soft gold.

You speak, your voice soft but steady, and he turns his attention back to you. “I thought you might like to see what the view looks like from this side—after dinner, of course.”

“Shall we?” His arm slips around your waist, pulling you close as he presses a tender kiss to your hair. You close the door behind you with a soft click, locking it with the same sense of finality you felt when your eyes met his for the first time this morning.

When you meet his gaze again, it’s heavy with an intensity that doesn’t waver. There’s no mystery left between you now—only a raw, unspoken understanding. It's his job, his life to know everything about everyone, and to use this knowledge to his advantage. Yet, he knows he’ll never truly know you completely and it doesn't scare him. In fact, the unknown no longer seems like something to fear. It’s the very thing that draws him to you. His obsession has evolved into something more—something deeper, maybe even predestined. But he is only one side of the coin.

As your eyes hold his, the coin flips. This isn't just his game—it’s yours as well, and you’ve already decided where it goes next. You won’t let him drown in his own darkness; you’ll give him the light he's been searching for.

And when the time comes, when you both get too close to the sun and can’t help but burn, at least you'll burn together.

[turbobyakuren]

Today, on the 26th of June, is the... Wow. 10th birthday of my OC project, MagiMonsters!

ONCE AGAIN I have unfortunately prepared nothing this year for this event, despite hitting a milestone. I tend to be very busy and tired these days, and I've never been one for planning, except one time in october last year. The drawing fever came back, though, and that's a good thing! And now that my studies are finally over and that I have more time for myself (workdays notwithstanding), the motivation to make more MagiMonsters drawings, designs, stories, etc. has come back! For now, most of these is treasured inside my brain. I want to tell those stories a lot, but it's an effort I haven't managed to channel into something concrete as of yet. Like I said, I've never been one for planning.

So instead, to celebrate nonetheless, I've made a little compilation of most of the Yuzuki Drawings I've done over the past 10 years, from 2015 to 2024. Yuzuki is the de facto poster girl of MagiMonsters (although the actual mascot is Moriko), so she is representative of my evolution as an artist, both writing- and drawing-wise. This OC project was the main force behind my desire to learn how to draw, and I'm very happy that, after around 10 years of work, I have achieved a style I am comfortable with. It's truly great to sit down and think, "Wow, this is what I had in mind!".

To conclude, I want to thank all the friends, all the people who support me, are interested in my little creations, are willing to lend an ear to what I have in mind, and help me with this project or just wanna say they like what I do with it. I also want to thank all my artist friends for inspiring me through their art and for drawing art of my OCs whenever they can. It truly means a lot to me, and it encourages me to push myself even further and experiment new things. I hope I can finally start producing something that showcases my stories and my little universe of magical monster girls. Yahoo!

[academicfever]

🌿 30-Day Digital Declutter Challenge 🌿

Welcome to the 30-Day Digital Declutter Challenge! Ready to take back your time and make space for the things that really matter?

For the next 30 days, we’re going on a digital detox! 🌱 It’s all about cutting down on distractions and adding more meaningful activities into your day. You in?

Key Steps of the 30-Day Digital Declutter

1. Take a Break from Optional Technologies (30 Days)

Identify optional technologies: Newport encourages participants to determine which technologies are "optional." These include apps, websites, or digital services that are not critical to your personal or professional life (e.g., social media, entertainment apps, non-essential email checking).

Completely eliminate or drastically reduce usage: For 30 days, stop using these optional technologies. The goal is to break the habit of mindless use and to see how life functions without them.

2. Explore Meaningful Alternatives

During the 30-day break, reintroduce meaningful activities that you might have neglected because of digital distractions. These could be hobbies, creative projects, physical activity, time spent with friends and family, or self-reflection.

Newport suggests focusing on activities that bring fulfillment: spending time outdoors, reading, creating, exercising, or pursuing personal interests that align with your values.

3. Reintroduce Technology Thoughtfully (After 30 Days)

At the end of the 30 days, evaluate which digital tools and platforms are necessary and beneficial.

Reintroduce only those technologies that have a clear, positive impact on your life and set rules or boundaries for their usage. For example:

Set specific times for checking social media or emails.

Limit the number of apps installed on your phone.

Use tools only for clearly defined purposes (e.g., professional networking on LinkedIn).

Questions to Ask When Reintroducing Technology

Newport suggests using three questions to decide which digital tools to reintroduce and how:

Does this technology directly support something I deeply value?

Is this the best way to use this technology for its purpose?

How can I set boundaries on this technology to maximize its value while minimizing its downsides?

30-Day Digital Declutter in Practice:

Prepare:

List all the optional technologies in your life (social media, games, video streaming, news apps).

Decide on the rules for your 30-day break (complete elimination or drastically reducing usage).

Identify meaningful activities you will focus on during the declutter.

Implement the Declutter:

Begin your 30-day digital break, sticking to the rules you set for yourself.

Replace mindless tech use with fulfilling, offline activities.

Reintroduce Thoughtfully:

After 30 days, evaluate which technologies to bring back into your life.

Establish rules to prevent falling back into unproductive or mindless usage.

Examples of Rules You Could Set:

Social Media: Only use it for professional reasons or set a time limit (e.g., 30 minutes per day).

Emails: Check only twice a day—once in the morning and once before the end of the workday.

Smartphone: Turn off notifications for all non-essential apps.

So recently I read this book and wated to try this method to clear my head... I am starting this challenge from 19th October_feel free to join me... You make the rules and alternatives for urslef... u can take a look at mine as an example...

[techsagacorporation]

Choosing the right Workday AMS Support services in USA is a strategic decision that requires careful consideration of various factors. By defining your requirements, checking credentials, assessing industry experience, evaluating technical and functional expertise, considering communication skills, ensuring scalability, and understanding the cost structure, you can make an informed decision that aligns with your organization’s goals.

[hanayori89]

🌻 Hello all- I just wrote this little one (two it’s a two) shot. My mother recently passed away on 1/24. My existence feels hollow. Writing is the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing that makes me feel like myself when I feel I don’t know who I am. When you read this little works you’re supporting not just a writer- but a grieving human. Thank you 🌻❤️

A Little Too Not Over You

“Hey, watch it!”

A rotund woman ran into you, causing you to ricochet backward and stumble off the curb. You watched as she stopped, shifting her weight back and forth on her feet. The sheer trace of her underwear beneath her shoddy dress told you she wasn't wearing much else beneath it. She continued forward, hurriedly crab-walking as she winced from her seismic thighs slapping together.

You grimaced, feeling the phantom sting of chafing between your own thighs.

"Hurry! Someone said he was down here!"

The racket of charging feet stomping against the pavement made you duck for cover.

"SQUEE!!!!"

You watched from behind an empty stall as a throng of rowdy, jubilant women of all ages, shapes, and colors came stampeding down the street.

"For Din's sake..." You muttered in disbelief.

Today was the biggest delivery day of the month, and your cargo now sat, ripped and dented from the abuse of hordes of running feet. After you discerned the coast was clear of all signs of estrogen besides your own, you ran toward your box and retrieved it. You squinted as you read the delivery address on the mottled label.

Bombchu Bowling Alley.

You hoisted the precious cargo on your shoulder, relieved that it would be your last delivery of the day. On an average workday, Castle Town never took you nearly as long as it did today. But whatever had the citizens in a tizzy also threw your schedule into the same energy of disarray.

You glanced upward, admiring the way the dark dusk clouds patted down what little light of the sun remained. The drawbridge that connected Castle Town to Hyrule Field would soon close, blocking any visitors from leaving or entering.

With that thought in mind, you scurried down to the Bombchu Bowling Alley, relieved that with the promise of night came the promise of the end of your shift.

🧚

"Well, I'll be. Are you actually awake during your shift?" You greeted your friend, Ally, the clerk who ran Bombchu Bowling.

She gave you a wistful sigh. "If I actually had customers, I wouldn't be over here falling asleep." She jumped over the counter; her magenta pinstriped crop top revealed her chiseled abs, which came as a surprise considering she seemed to sleep for a living.

"Got my goods?"

"Got my money?"

Ally fluttered her caked lashes at you in amusement. "Always right to the point." She reached into her pocket, fishing out the rupees she owed you. "You really saved my hide doing this freight business; your costs are much cheaper than those of Lon Lon."

"Well, I won't talk ill of Malon; we are friends after all. But she has her hands full these days and running a farm ain't cheap. Besides, I love to explore Hyrule. Especially since-" You stopped yourself from saying it.

The words seemed to be obnoxious and loud, despite not leaving your mouth. "He's never once come back to see you?"

"He's a hero now. Why would he?" Your voice rose as your wounded ego flared. "Besides, I have my business and my life now. I appreciate the time we spent as kids and what he's done for Hyrule, but I've moved on, and I'm sure he has too."

"Have you, though?"

Your mouth shot open in protest. "What's that supposed to mean?" You didn't need to prove to Ally or anyone that you were over Link.

So, what if you saw his stupid face every night for seven years since he left?

Or that you sometimes sat outside of the Kokiri woods by the tree you both met.

Or the fact that every date you've ever been on always left you empty because no one seemed to compare.

So, what?

"Y/N," Ally said your name as if she were a medic about to tell you that you had a terminal illness. The empathy in her voice was present, albeit earnest. "Did you see the crowds gathering today?"

You nodded. "How in Hylia could I not see them? It would be like not seeing King Jabu Jabu in Zora's Domain. I almost got run over! This one woman-"

"He's come home."

"He?"

"The Hero...er- Link, he's returned. He's here, in Castletown."

"Link? Link has come back?"

Her eyebrows rose in concern as you let out a bitter laugh.

"Y/N-"

"So, Link has come home? That's what those females were fussing over? How pathetic." The venom that coursed through your veins over Link's abandonment somehow didn't manage to overshadow your curiosity as to what he looked like after all this time. You stopped entertaining the thought. "They can have him and all the tears they'll cry when he leaves them too."

You left Ally standing there with her unopened order. You walked towards the door, your throat raw with the taste of acid. "Let me know if there's any issue with your order. Have a good night."

You didn't bother to look her way as you slammed the door shut behind you.

Link had returned.

So, what?

🧚🏿

"Why are you crying?"

A boy with eyes haunted by unwelcome duty ran past you. He turned toward you, surprised, as you revealed yourself from behind a tree.

"Why are you sad? Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

“I'm supposed to go meet Princess Zelda. But I won't make it. I'm going to die."

You tilted your head at the boy's assured declaration. "How are you so sure you're going to die?"

"Look at me! I am a Kokiri! If we leave the forest, I'll die! That's why Saria looked so sad. She must have known she'd never see me again. She must have known..."

You walked up to the sullen boy swathed in green. Drawing your arm back, you walloped him in the shoulder.

"HEY!" He growled.

You began to laugh hysterically. "Silly forest boy, if you were dead, that wouldn't have hurt. There is no pain after death."

He began to begrudgingly blink with recognition. "So then, it's true. I am not one of them after all. I am not a Kokiri." His eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Apparently not because you're very much alive."

He looked at you. "I must go to the princess." He didn't ask you to escort him, but something in the way he spoke made you silently understand that you were to accompany him.

"Come on, I'll take you as far as I can."

"Thank you."

You both traversed Hyrule Field together with chatter that had such ease it caused time to pass with lamentable haste. As you approached the drawbridge that led to Castle Town, you could feel the boy's aquamarine eyes overtly examining you.

You gave him a playful side-eye. "Don't go falling in love over there."

Little did you know, you would eat those words for seven years straight.

🧚🏽

"Wait! Hey, Wait!"

Two guards stood; their gargantuan helmets eclipsed their vision but left their prickly and soured lips on display. They ignored your begging and continued to crank the bridge upward; the hinges were in desperate need of lube to ease the egregious grinding sound that filled the air.

"Wait! I need to leave! My cargo wagon is outside!"

One of the guards looked at you and scoffed. "Rules are rules, little miss. This bridge closes at 7 p.m., as it always has for years. You know better."

You stomped your foot. "It's 6:58! If you're not going to let me leave, then I fully expect to be compensated with a room at an inn since you cannot be so kind as to let me pass."

Both of the guards exchanged glances and began to laugh.

The guard that had ridiculed you earlier now walked up to you, dipping his head close to your ear. "I can make an exception if you do something for me." His gruff, come-hither voice made your ovaries revolt in disgust.

He crept his fingers along your shoulder, resting them on the thin cotton of your sleeve and slowly pulling it down.

"I would rather mate with a goron." You felt a collection of foamy saliva sit at the base of your throat. With an uncouth gurgle, you spat in the guard's face as a Deku shrub would shoot a nut.

"You little-"

An arm dressed in a gilded gauntlet slithered around the guard's neck, wrapping him in a chokehold. You couldn't see the face of the man who intervened, but you caught glimpses of green fabric behind the guard's body. The color reminiscent of a vast forest and the special boy who hails from its verdant haven.

"What's your ID number?" The voice's curt command wasn't enough to hide its feathery resonance or the way it made your core pool with warmth.

The guard fumbled beneath the unforgiving grasp of his captor, his voice escaping in hoarse spurts. "7..."

"7 what?" The man's muscles swelled as he wrapped his arm around the guard's neck tighter.

"7...5...2...7." Satisfied by this response, you watched as the guard was disregarded and thrown to the ground.

"I'll be sure to speak with the princess in the morning, 7527. It would behoove you to leave the premises at once. Now get out of my sight."

The other guard squealed from behind. "Ach! "It's him! Let's get out of here."

Your eyes slowly wandered to the man before you.

'Him.'

The shadows that hung beneath his eyes were the perfect accessory to the familiar glint of unwelcome responsibility that had remained in his eyes all these years. His lips tugged upward, and an insecure smile seeped cheek to cheek, transforming his aged face into that of the youth you had fallen in love with years ago.

"Hello, Y/N."

You stood there, as if you were staring at Dampe's ghost, which would be a lot more palatable than Link standing before you as a grown man.

A grown man.

You felt your flesh incinerate as you observed the chapped and gargantuan hands beneath the gauntlets. Your eyes stalled on the flashes of muscle that couldn't be hidden beneath his padded gambeson or his tunic.

You could hear a soft chuckle as he realized he had rendered you speechless. He reached upward, pulling off his signature green hat and setting free a wave of long, silky blond tresses. "Have I aged so terribly that you cannot possibly find the words?" For as much as your gaze seemed to procrastinate on certain areas of his body, it was incomparable to the way Link's eyes refused to move away from your own. His Adam's apple bulged, shimmying down his throat as he took a deep breath. "The passage of time is usually cruel, but it relieves me to see how incredibly kind it has been to you."

He took a few steps toward you, desperate for your acknowledgement. After another minute of silence, you reached your hand forward. Link mirrored you, lifting his hand upward in an attempt to gently place his fingertips against your own, as if you were his reflection. The romantic gesture was severed thanks to your hand plunging forth and latching onto one of the shiny gray hoops that swung from his ears.

"Farore! You pierced your ears?"

You could make out a little droplet of sweat trailing down his jaw as he released a nervous laugh. "That's it? It's been seven years, and that's what you noticed about me?"

You folded your arms. " It's not my fault; it's been seven years, Link. Oh, forgive me, do you still go by 'Link?"

He frowned. "You're right, Y/N. You're absolutely right. I cannot say anything that will mend the rift of time between us. But" He got down on his knee and held your hand, your delicate fingers resting in between his firm grasp, weakening your resolve.

"The bridge is closed for the night. Give me just tonight to try. Please."

"Fine." You surrendered. You were going to humor Link. But it was not to appease his own guilt over his absence.

No, it was to prove to yourself that you were over him.

But if you truly were, then why did you need to prove it?

🧚🏾

                                             

Edited: 2/1/24

[koushirouizumi]

"I hope that the {"strength?"} that keeps YOU THINKING OF ME is {STILL} ["Troubling"] YOU, even just 'a little';

Saying {"THE Answer"} WAS A ["SACRIFICE"] That it (WOUNDED), that it was ("INEVITABLE"), that it ['HURT'],

...All sounds so {CHEERFUL}, 'DOESN'T IT'?"

(If you couldn't tell, the entire AMV showcases an AUTISTIC!Koushiro Izumi headcanon using canon-inspired scenes with canon contexts):

"Being a POPULAR GUY isn't easy." - Taichi, joking (and perhaps half-serious); {00:00~00:10 timemarks}

Digimon Adventure (Series) + 2020 reboot series x Zutomayo -

"STUDY ME?" / "Figure it Out" / "I'M (/KOUSHIRO'S) NOT A 'PROBLEM' TO BE 'SOLVED'"

featuring duo/ship/O.T.P. KouTai / Taishiro[u]; Koushiro x Taichi

(Characters Koushiro is otherwise involved with, like Izumi family, Tentomon, Jou, Yamato, Menoa, and Mimi; + vs. Vademon also show briefly at times but the focus is Koushiro & 2020!Koushiro + KouTai with minor spoilers from tri, Kokuhaku, BNM, Kizuna, and 2020 + its ending)

It is recommended you read the lyrics before or after watching!

This A.M.V. was pretty much made on a complete whim after I heard this thanks to a J.P.N TaiKou fan recommending another by this group as "DEFINITELY a TaiKou song" and let's just say Yes I see a Theme & Patterns going and I am Spilling Koushiro Thoughts Via Analysis by A.M.V. As a result it IS in actuality semi canon compliant to a very strong degree, but please keep in mind the intended pairing is mainly KouTai (though I ship various other Koushiro ships too!)

{DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!}

{DO NOT RE USE WITHOUT PERMISSION}

{I do Not own DigiAdvs / DigiAdvs (C) Toei; this is FAN MADE}

[socialistexan]

I'm so fucking frustrated trying to find resources for myself online. Like I have been diagnosed with ADHD and while I haven't been formally diagnosed* with autism the traits are there and my therapist has agreed I probably am.

But the thing about that those disorders, is that our society most commonly associates them with children and really only children. It's slightly more common now to hear about adult ADHD now thanks to platforms like tiktok (and we could really get into the detriments that come with that some other time), but adult autism still feels rarely talked about outside very insular spaces, especially adult diagnosised ASD.

So like, I've found that my mental well-being has been significantly improved if I take 15-30 minutes out of my workday (I call them my Touch Grass Brakes) and just sit outside with my dog in the sun or rain if it's raining.

So I got curious to see if maybe this was related to autism, because I'm finding out that hey! a lot, but definitely not all, of things I do that I couldn't explain before turn out to be commonly associated autistic traits. I like knowing these things about myself, it gives me clarity.

But when I try to look "hey is needing to be outside for a bit every day an autism thing or a people thing that everyone should do?" all I get is results for children with Autism, or rather resources for parents of autistic children:

Same thing happens with ADHD, like it sometimes takes pages of search results until you find something that isn't necessarily even for adults but just not solely and exclusively about children.

I'm not a fucking child! I need support too! Autistic and ADHD children eventually (at least *should*) grow up into autistic and ADHD adults! Do we just stop needing support after a certain number of spins around the sun?

And like, I'm very low needs. I'd probably be classified as "level 1," but low needs still means I have *some* needs. Idk, it's just frustrating.

*There's a variety of reasons I will not seek a formal diagnosis at least in the near-mid future, including needing access to gender affirming care which can be stripped if you are diagnosed with autism, and it would pad the stats that are twisted by transphobes who try to claim trans people are all poor tricked autistics who need saving.