#also my therapist said last week that in our next session we could get the papers ready that i need to

[tkbrokkoli]

came out to my parents and sibling yesterday

[xhusu]

; to fight an invisible foe

She thought of all those happy times they spent together since his pardon, his laugh, his smile and his shining eyes. All of this couldn’t be a lie, could it? It meant that he was wrong, that his therapist was wrong. Jellal was not feeling so low. He had his moments for sure, but it wasn’t all there was.

In which Jellal announces to Erza that he has depression, and she struggles to process the weight of it all.

You can also read it on AO3! | Words: 3,223

      

Erza was taken aback. She had just woken up and here she was met with such a worrying request. But if Jellal couldn’t wait for her to drink a glass of water or stretch, it meant that it was urgent.

Nonetheless, she sat with a frown, quite anxious. ‘We need to talk,’ he had told her. This was such an alarming sentence.

He sat on the side of the bed, his eyes fixated on his hands as his elbows rested on his thighs. More than the request, the position itself was troubling. The same as at that time. But they were more on equal ground, though, as she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, at the same level as him in a way.

“About what?” she finally asked. She was looking at him, trying to force eye contact. He inhaled, biting his lower lip. He stayed unmoving for a minute or so before looking at her, letting out a breath – to motivate himself.

“First, I’m… sorry, for not telling you sooner.”

“Telling me what, Jellal?”

“Something my therapist… told me.”

“When?”

“During our last session, two days ago.”

That was a little reassuring. It wasn’t something he kept from her for weeks. But still, if it was important, why wait for two days?

“What did she say?”

He looked away, his right leg starting to move with stress. “I… Listen, I don’t know what she meant by it.”

“Jellal, you’re worrying me, just tell me what she said.”

“She…” He held a breath. “She said I might—Well no, she said I have depression…” with that, he added in a whisper, “Whatever that means.”

Erza froze. Her mind went blank as if she stopped thinking. She processed his words with difficulty before blinking. “What?” she started, “What do you mean depression?”

“Like… Like the disorder.”

“The disorder,” she repeated. Erza shook her head. It made no sense. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either, Erza, I’m sorry,” somehow, he was starting to talk faster, “I don’t know why she said that.”

“No, no, don’t say sorry… It’s just… Isn’t that the suicidal people’s disease?”

“I… I guess… I will tell her next week that we don’t get it—”

“Why would she say that you have it?” she ignored him, “Did you tell her things… you didn’t tell me?”

Silence.

She felt a lump forming in her throat. Her eyes were starting to water up. “Jellal,” she called, “Don’t tell me…”

He turned his head away from her. She inhaled, “You can’t be serious…”

“Listen, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he explained in a trembling voice, “There are no reasons for me to have those thoughts, that’s why…”

“You didn’t tell me… Why didn’t you tell me?”

He breathed.

“Look at me!”

He did, his eyes humid and his lips pursued. Erza watched him, her mouth open, trying to find the words, trying to find an answer to all of this. She shook her head again. “Why now?...”

He wasn’t able to maintain eye contact, looking away as she started tearing up. “I don’t know Erza.”

“We are… I don’t get it… Is this because of me?”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what? You didn’t tell me!”

“This has nothing to do with it.”

“Then why—" She gasped, fearing to understand. “Is this because of last time?”

He stared at his hands, biting his lower lip yet again. His breathing pace accelerated.

“I apologized for that, Jellal… I told you after your pardon that you didn’t have to hide anything from me anymore… I don’t get it…”

“I know… I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

He sniffed and her eyes widened. And so, in a murmur, he explained “I just didn’t want to disappoint you…”

“What are you—” He stood, turning his back to her.

“I’m sorry. Forget it. Sorry. I’ll make breakfast.”

And he left the room.

Erza stared at the door of their bedroom, where he just disappeared, appalled and still in shock. The words kept echoing in her mind; the loud and clear innuendos led to a truth she never thought she’d have to face again.

Trembling, she stood abruptly. Her vision was blurry as tears fell but she knew her apartment well enough to join him quickly. He had taken out a pan, ready to make breakfast – as he had said – but she violently took his forearm and, surprised, he dropped it on the counter with a loud sound. They both winced but quickly moved on.

“We’re not finished,” she announced.

“Erza—”

“What do you mean by ‘disappoint me’?”

Her voice was breaking, somehow the tears didn’t seem able to stop coming and she breathed heavily.

“What do you mean by that, Jellal?”

He tried to take the pan once more and she angrily took it away from him, spatting “Stop that and answer me! You were the one who wanted to talk so stand by it!”

He trembled, inhaling with a sniff. She watched his expression; he was about to cry but was holding it, that was obvious. His lips tried not to tremble but they were.

“Answer me,” she begged, “Please…”

“It’s just… Erza, what is wrong with me?” he shuffled, “There is no reason for me to think that anymore… We got everything and yet…”

“That is what I don’t get either, but that’s not the subject, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you I’m sorry, I know it’s…”

“Why would it disappoint me, Jellal? You can’t help it, right? So—”

“Because it does, Erza, just look at you,” a tear rolled, that he promptly wiped, and she pursued her lips, “All you ever wanted was for us to have what we have now and,” another tear, another wipe, “And I’m ruining everything again.”

Her grip on his forearm tightened as she shook her head, “You’re not!”

“I am, and it seems that…” he brought his free hand to his head, trying not to sob, “That I’ll never be the man you want me to be…”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.

“Don’t lie to yourself Erza. You’re disappointed.”

Silence.

He wiped his tears yet again, breathing as he stared at the counter. Jellal sniffed then sighed, “And for this, I am sorry.”

She lowered her head, thinking about everything. Why didn’t she notice it? If he felt this bad… How could she not get a clue? Why was this news so painful and surprising when he was unable to lie to her?

She thought of all those happy times they spent together since his pardon, his laugh, his smile and his shining eyes. All of this couldn’t be a lie, could it? It meant that he was wrong, that his therapist was wrong. Jellal was not feeling so low. He had his moments for sure, but it wasn’t all there was.

Why couldn’t he move on the way she did? That’s what she didn’t understand the most. She too had a period of time where she thought of a way to disappear, where she felt like she was deserving of punishment, but it passed, and she now saw how naïve she had been to think this way.

Their story wasn’t so different, was it? So why couldn’t he heal the way she did? Why did it feel like he cried more, was more vulnerable than ever recently when they finally were at peace and free?

“I don’t get it,” she whispered mostly for herself, but he still tensed. “Maybe I would if you told me everything…”

He didn’t answer. Just like in the bedroom, he even turned his head away.

It hurt. Maybe more than it should.

“I cannot read your mind, Jellal, I’m not Erik. I wish I could support you better but… I don’t even know where to start if you keep secrets from me.”

She believed that seeing a therapist would help him. After witnessing his bad habits and condition, she was the one who brought the idea up. She remembered reading books on the matter, that sometimes help was needed and she thought that was what would help him. But then, now…

Depression. The suicidal people’s disease, as she heard Macao jokes once.

Her hand let go of his forearm as she kept ruminating on those terrifying thoughts. He tried to reach for the pan, explaining a small “I’ll make breakfast.”

But she’s the one who took the tool rather violently, declaring with no forbearance, “No need, I will.”

He stayed quiet and she realised the harshness of her attitude.

“You can help, of course,” she quickly added, looking at him with worry.

His eyes looked at the pan, his expression now blank. “No… I will… I’ll go make the bed.”

With that, he left. Again. Her gaze didn’t follow him this time. She kept staring at where he was, just an instant ago, and she broke into tears.

Cooking as you cry was difficult, she gathered. She took longer than she was used to, she even broke the eggs and ended up making an omelette. Erza kept sobbing, trying to stay silent because she just knew that if he heard her cry this much, he’d feel more guilty than he already was. Nonetheless, she also supposed that he probably already knew anyway.

And that he perhaps was in a similar state as hers.

The thought made her cry even more.

She hated it. This news, her attitude toward him, the fact that he didn’t tell her, crying alone. It had been a long time since she last felt so lonely and powerless. They were a couple now, when one was crying, the other would be here to comfort them.

Why was it so different for once? They shouldn’t argue when facing hurdles, they should unify and confront them together.

They should…

Erza blinked, realising how wrong all of this was.

How could she react to such a thing this way?

How could she make it about herself when he was the one diagnosed with such a disorder?

She brought her hand to her mouth, ashamed of herself.

Of course, she was frustrated but… he had every reason to keep it for himself. Her reaction right now just proved how right he was. It was about him, why did she make it about her?

She bit her lip.

How ironic. In the end, she herself could wonder ‘what is wrong with me’.

She wiped her eyes and cheeks, letting out a breath. It was pathetic. She continued making breakfast, still spacing out from time to time. Having finished, she dressed the table and put their plates on it. Her hands on the surface as a support, she exhaled and closed her eyes for an instant.

They needed to talk about it. Not about him not telling her. About it and what would ensue for their future.

She opened her eyes and saw him.

It made her smile faintly. Sometimes, they didn’t need to talk. He knew she was done and came right away.

To be honest, he looked as miserable as her. Her assumption from earlier was confirmed and, again, it hurt. But what was done and said couldn’t be taken back and they now had to deal with it.

“Breakfast’s ready,” she tried. He nodded and waited for her to sit down before imitating her. They started to eat in silence, facing each other yet not looking. Or more precisely, her trying to create eye contact and him focusing on his plate.

After hesitating, she started, “Jellal…”

“I am really sorry for not telling you,” he interrupted her, “I should have. I know communication is very important and I should have focused on that.”

“Oh… Well… I can understand.”

“It’s still wrong.”

“Actually, I want to apologize too. I shouldn’t have reacted this way earlier. This was very stupid and selfish of me.”

“You have every reason to be disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed. I was frustrated. But it wasn’t about me. I made all of it about me but I missed the point entirely.”

He picked at his food with the fork, frowning a little.

“Do you really think you are ruining everything?”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t help it, Jellal. If she told you that you got it, then it must be true.”

“Excuses.”

“What do you mean?”

“Erza… I cannot always put the blame on something else when it’s my fault, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head, not fully sure that she got the insinuation. “Are you talking about Ultear?”

“I am.”

“From what you told me, it wasn’t you.”

“I don’t care about this, Erza. I’m… I’m tired.”

Erza sadly frowned. “Jellal…”

“I hate it… Putting the blame on something else…”

“But even if you do, it’s still the truth, Jellal. You can hate it as much as you want, nothing will change that.”

He pursued his lips.

“Listen, in a way… If it’s depression that makes you the way you are, shouldn’t it be reassuring?”

He scoffed a dry laugh, but it sounded more pained that anything, “Reassuring, really?”

“Yes. Because it means that there are solutions. It’s a problem we can take care of.”

“I would be able to take care of it more easily if I had control over it.”

“No, because then you would believe that it’s your fault and that nothing would ever change.”

“I already think that.”

“Well, you are wrong.”

He looked at her with timid, uncertain eyes. He seemed completely lost and out of answers.

“Then what now?” he asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know. I… I don’t know much about depression.”

He opened his mouth and closed it right away, drifting his gaze.

“What is it?”

“No, I shouldn’t…”

“Tell me?”

“I know the answer, so… it’s a little dumb. I was going ask if…” a sigh, “If you still wanted… well, me.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you anymore?”

“Because… I don’t know. If I’m not happy myself, how can I make you happy?”

“But you make me happy. Now, we have a name for it, but it’s not like you weren’t like this before. And you still made me happy. I mean, Jellal, if I was the one diagnosed with depression, you’d stay right?”

“Of course!” he answered, almost offended. “I’d want to be with you, so we can find a solution together. And even if there is none… It would be all right for me.”

“So, what makes you think I wouldn’t feel the same towards you?”

“Because…” he thought for an instant, “You want us to be happy the most.”

“See, that’s where the problem is.”

“Uh?”

“Repeat what you just said.”

“You want us to be happy the most?”

“And what do you want?”

“For you to be happy?”

She smiled, “Don’t you think you’re forgetting someone?”

Jellal blinked for an instant. She could see, on his expression, the moment his brain got it. ‘Oh,’ he probably thought. Erza stood, putting down her cluttery and walked around the table. His gaze followed her, incomprehension all written over his face.

In front of him, she touched his shoulder and he moved back his chair, still wondering what she was trying to do. Then, she sat on his lap and embraced him tenderly. Sooner than she expected, she felt his arms around her.

“If I ever leave you for such a thing,” she whispered in his ear, “Then worry because someone took over my body. I’ll never leave you, Jellal. Got it?”

He nodded, putting his head in the crook of her neck. He breathed and she brushed his hair lovingly.

“We’ll face this together.”

She kissed the top of his head and heard him say, “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

“I should be the one apologizing for what happened earlier. Don’t do it on my behalf.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s because of this type of attitude that you didn’t tell me. In a way, this is just the consequences of my actions.”

His eyes met hers, “Really, it’s fine.”

“And I tell you it’s not.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “Actually, there is something I want to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Do you think I could come with you, at some point?”

“To therapy? Why?”

“Because of how I reacted. I don’t think it’s normal. And it’s clearly not helping. Also, because… it’s new for both of us. If we want to make it work, we’ll have to do it together.”

“You may be right. I’ll ask her next time, but it should be fine.”

He gave her a small smile she kissed, leading to a chuckle from him. She then announced, “And there is something else too, but it’s not a question this time.”

He caressed her cheek and she hummed. Erza closed her eyes for an instant before looking at him once more. She would never get tired of looking at him, not when his gaze was this soft.

“You will never ever disappoint me because of the way you are. There is no Jellal I want specifically, I want you and that’s it. Of course, I wish you were happier, not for me, but for you. Because you’re hurting. But no matter what, the man I want is you. This will never change.”

She knew him too well, so she could see how he had a hard time believing her. Again, it was a mere consequence of hurtful words she once said through frantic panic. This was also something she needed to work on.

“Forget about that, what I said back then… I was wrong.”

“Were you really?”

“Yes. I was. I know that much now. Because you prove me so every day.”

He exhaled in relief and she felt his muscles relax. “Alright.”

Their lips met in a soft, loving, kiss. He continued to caress her cheek as she stroked his hair. Their embrace was warm, and the closeness felt reassuring.

Really, how could he think that she would want to leave him? Or that he could disappoint her. It was mere nonsense, after everything they went through and everything they faced.

This new foe of theirs was not the worst enemy they encountered. They just had to adapt and learn how to deal with it, just like they always did and always would. She knew it would be hard, but she was not going to give up on him.

She broke their kiss after a moment and smiled at him. He returned the favour with her favourite feature of his. The same thing that made her fall for him. The same thing that this unfamiliar, invisible enemy was trying to take away from her.

“I love you, Erza.”

Never weary of hearing those three words, her smile grew. They always filled her with a pleasant and delicate sentiment.

“I love you too, Jellal.”

In the end, their breakfast turned cold; not that they really cared. She had woken up an hour ago but already felt exhausted. They kissed and hugged the pain away; they showed their affection through tender gestures and loving whispers.

She did not feel lonely anymore. And she hoped he did not either. Because no matter what, as long as she was alive, and even if he didn’t realise it, he would never truly be alone.

      

AN:  Thank you so much for reading! I have mixed feelings about this one but since I wrote it, I posted it anyway! I hope you enjoyed it!

[polyamorouspunk]

HEYYYYYYYYY its me your favorite annoying mutual who you claim isn’t annoying 😜

So. Question. Im starting therapy this week. Or at least its an intake appointment. And I was wondering if you have any experience with any therapy stuff to kinda. Maybe give me an idea of what I should expect?

Like, I know my plp works in the field and stuff and she does therapy too but for completely different reasons than Im gonna try going for. And I was hoping I could get another person’s perspective.

Not gonna lie, I’ve had some not so great experiences with therapy/counseling before, so Im hoping this time goes better. But yeah

- 🗝️

I mean if you’ve already had therapy you know the basics. First appointment is meeting and saying what brought you to therapy. Next appointment is continuing to establish. I would argue even by the third appointment you’re still getting used to your therapist and establishing a relationship with them. I think every relationship you have with a therapist is different. I felt like my last therapist was good at guiding me to talk about things I needed to talk about. My therapist now I honestly just sit in silence until he asks me something. It’s really awkward. My last appointment I tried to bring up the stuff I had written down to talk about and he kind of side-stepped the stuff I really wanted to talk about to ask why I self-diagnose with BPD and how it can be trendy to self-diagnose and how “The DSM-5 isn’t the Bible” but also “kids will read the DSM-5 and say it sounds like them and then say they have a disorder” and blah blah blah. He knows I’m a psych student and therefore sometimes it feels like I can level with him and have conversations about the field of psychology and then sometimes it feels like “well as a professional in the field I have to recommend against self-diagnosis” or something and I’m like I’m here to talk about all the red flags that the girl I’m lusting after just dropped on me not whether or not I have blue brain worms or brain worms that just look blue under the sunlight but are actually brown like bluejay feathers like. Fr. Uh. I mean you were *there* with me when I said I don’t particularly like my therapist but I’ve been having a hard time finding a new one. I, personally, prefer therapy where I can work on something since my last therapist unlocked the realization that I talk much more openly when I am busying myself with something which is why I think art therapy would be helpful for me. I purposefully planned the last serious conversation I had to have while I was working on things with my hands. Some therapists are really chatty and talk about themselves a lot and compare their experiences in life or with other clients to yours. Some therapists only want to focus on you and what you feel. Some want to give you advice, some want to give you techniques. But your level of openness and comfort is going to dictate how much and what you get out of it. If I was more comfortable with my therapist I might have been able to put my foot down and say “this isn’t what I want to talk about in my session today, perhaps we can revisit this another time”, but I just don’t have that level of comfort with my therapist because I don’t like him that much. He’s a great guy! He’s just not the right style of therapist for me. It’s really great to have an openly queer therapist but I need someone more rigid who can get me to open up better and doesn’t monologue at me. That’s just something I’ve learned. You’ll learn what works from when it’s worked in the past and you’ll learn what you need when you don’t get it. That’s just how it is. I’m hoping I can revisit the stuff I actually wanted to talk about in my next session instead of having the focus be put on why I need to ID with BPD and not “so I have someone that said some things to me that’s making me concerned about the direction our potential relationship is taking but I don’t really know how to interoperate it, what are your thoughts as someone who hears these therapy buzzwords a lot?”

[lostsoulsarchive]

Hans Protz: Log #1

[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT] My therapist said it would be a good idea for me to make a journal of some kind, I haven't found anywhere I could get a notebook and she didn't have any spares, so I guess I'll just record audio logs on my PDA, just need to find somewhere I can put the files... Well... Uh... She recommended that my first log would be a general run down of who I am and what I do on a normal day, incase I lose any memories or what not, use it as a refresher or something. My name is Hans Protz, I was born and raised in New Ulm, Minnesota. I graduated high school and went straight to the Marines. I worked my way up to Corporal, I guess I impressed someone in the top brass because shortly afterwards I was informed I was being transferred to the BIP. Now I get to stand around for twelve hours a day in the same fucking hallway every single fucking day (an audible sigh can be heard). I work in a large facility that is primarily underground, all the stuff surrounding the BIP seems to be kept tightly under wraps, so I guess a subterranean facility makes sense. This facility is also a submarine base too, so not all that weird... I guess. I'm assigned to guard BCC-2539, eggheads in lab coats come and go, I always overhear them talking about "tests" and "experiments" whatever the hell that means. I've got no clue what the hell is behind the door I stand next to all day... Maybe I don't want to know... By my guesses I'm at least a thousand feet below the surface, so either we want to make sure no one can get whatever is down here, or we need to make sure whatever is down here can't get out. I'm far more terrified of the second possibility. I've had this position for eight months, absolutely nothing interesting has happened over those months, just standing in the same spot for four hours, getting a short break, going back to stand at the same spot for four hours, getting another short break, then finishing off my last four hours and getting to go back to my quarters and do whatever I want until my next shift. The only saving grace is my partner, Clarence Moffet, he starts his shift four hours after mine, coming on right as I go on break. Clarence makes good company, someone to talk to at the very least. Never seen his face though, these fucking masks, why can't we take them off outside of the mess hall and our quarters? I never see those eggheads wearing them, why do we need them? I see most of the other guards from the same floor wearing them but I see some from other floors without them... Are they higher ranked or is there something on this floor that we can't breathe in? Is this a facility that makes bio-weapons? Aren't those war crimes? What the fuck am I doing down here? (An audible sign can be heard) Anyways... Every other week I go to an hour long therapist session after my shift, which is why I'm doing this in the first place. Clarence has a therapist too, I think everyone down here does. I think the point of the therapists is so we don't go crazy seeing the same walls, floors, doors and people every single day. I suppose the BIP cares about us at least a little. Other than that basically nothing happens, other guards walking to and from their posts, nerds in coats going to BCCs, janitors cleaning the halls and other staff moving supplies and equipment around the place, other than that, literally nothing happens here, most boring fucking job I've had. Guess the pay and benefits are worth it though... Uh... Can't think of anything else to say for now, the next few logs are gonna be pretty dull if nothing happens in the next few weeks. [AUDIO LOG END]

[binders-and-beanies]

Vent about my job situation under the cut bc I have so much to say and don’t rly get to get it out anywhere 👎🏻

So for those who missed any of the context. I’m a graduate social work major interning at a therapy practice, it’s unpaid for college credit. It was going to be my first time being a one on one therapist.

My old therapist works at the same practice and I asked everyone involved during the hiring process if this would be ok and was repeatedly assured it was fine as long as I didn’t see her anymore. I haven’t seen her (or any therapist) since February when she FREAKING ghosted me.

I asked to reschedule one session and it was fine, I asked to reschedule a second one and never heard from her again. (Edit: it may be important context to point out I had been seeing her for a year and a half. So it’s not like this was my first few sessions) Which if you know basic 101 about therapy or social work you know that goes against whats drilled into our heads about ethical practice. If I as an intern did that it would be a big freaking deal.

Even if she would have said “hey I notice this is becoming a pattern so let’s talk about how we can better ensure you can make it to your sessions” I would have respected that. I understand you have to see a certain amount of clients per week but if she’s out here ghosting anyone who lets her know in advance they’ll miss two sessions, she’d be out of work.

Anyway. So I’ve already been feeling like I’m trying to heal from having her as a therapist bc I felt abandoned in a time of need. I was needing to reschedule sessions bc it was a very busy chaotic time where I needed support. And I didn’t get to find a new therapist bc this was right around when I became uninsured. But I’ve kinda been whatever about it bc it didn’t affect my life all that much, at least I’m saving money etc. Until it Did greatly affect my life bc she got a promotion that involved her supervising the interns more closely so I’m being let go.

Mind you this is not the first time I’ve lost a job abruptly in the past couple months for reasons beyond my control. So I’m reliving that feeling of having to process my life being yoinked out from under me and it doesn’t feel like it will be the last time. I feel like any job I have from now on I’ll be on edge waiting to suddenly be dismissed. On the one hand at least I have no income to lose this time but on the other hand goddamn I can’t even keep an unpaid position. For two weeks.

I am able to stay until the end of the semester or until I find smth else whatever comes first. And I’d like that to happen sooner rather than later bc 1) I’m tired of not knowing what comes next for me and I already went thru the whole wondering what my placement/life will look like in the next couple weeks thing 2) I’m gonna be feeling a lot of resentment on the job in the meantime and 3) as a client I wouldn’t want to start at a new therapist who has to leave in 3 months tops. Idk if I’ll even be assigned clients now, which is in some ways a relief but also damn I was kinda vibing with the Therapist identity and I didn’t even get to try it on with one client. I didn’t get to find out if this is for me.

I even pictured myself staying at this practice after graduation, I like the culture, it’s walkable from my partners house where I want to move in, it could have been a picture perfect picket fence future. But bc of my former therapist’s success I have to suddenly restructure my entire present and future life situation Again. I didn’t care that she ghosted me until now, now that she’s receiving praise from everyone and their mother while I worry about if I’m ever going to find a stable job and afford to live after college.

I truly feel like I’m going to come out of this traumatized. Therapy shouldn’t be something you have to recover from. I would have never gone to her if I’d known it would have such huge tangible consequences for my literal career but I had no way of knowing. I even thought in the back of my mind, 2+ years ago when I first reached out to her, “I hope this doesn’t end up narrowing down one less place I can work in the future.” And not even two weeks in that’s exactly what’s happening.

Now I’m afraid to go to therapy Anywhere (even if my insurance situation allowed me to choose one), for fear of having one less place to work. What if my next therapist also works at what would otherwise be my only option as a workplace. My only feasible option rn is counseling services on campus but what if That ends up somehow being the only place I’m able to intern now or work in the future!! + u get 5 sessions and I feel like I would need that in order to process even just this situation alone.

But wait there’s more. The former therapist in question also teaches graduate courses at my school bc of course she does. I’ve been able to avoid her in that sense too, aside from one time I had to switch my schedule around, it hasn’t affected what classes I can take. I haven’t seen her on campus ever, I haven’t even seen her at work once, I haven’t seen her Anywhere since our last session like 6 or 7 months ago.

Until she walks into my class tonight to get enthusiastically greeted by my professor and talk abt her job while class was supposed to start 10 minutes ago and I’m already anxiously waiting to bring up my internship situation to my field liaison. Who’s 3 feet from me hugging the person who’s costing me my job.

She also wasn’t able to acknowledge me for confidentiality reasons so it’s not like she could say hi or see if I’m doing ok. But she had the audacity to fucking wink at me. Even if she somehow doesn’t know I’m losing my job bc of her, she does know she abandoned me as a client. So that came off kinda cruel to me.

I sat there fuming and wanting to cry and just trying not to look at her until she finally left. Seeing her in this context was harder than I would have thought. And it’s ironic how me being let go is framed as being “for my protection” as a former client but in that moment I wanted protection from her. I wouldn’t have had to feel that way if I had a stable job.

I feel like I need therapy rn in order to process the harm that’s happening to me as a result of having gone to that therapist. But I don’t get to go to therapy and I don’t get to be a therapist either. I don’t get to know what kind of social work I’m going to be practicing in a couple weeks or months or however long it takes for me to be fucking assigned whatever I get whether I like it or not. For the third time.

And now I’m back to having zero inkling as to what I’m going to do to afford being alive when I graduate again in 7 months. Whereas if I had either seen a different therapist or if they could have chosen literally anyone else to be a clinical supervisor, this could have maybe been my perfect fit and set me on a path to a more peaceful future.

I’m so tired and I feel hopeless and I don’t even have the privilege of just being fucking sad for a minute, I have to just keep going. Keep going at this job while I search for another, keep doing homework and juggling my 700 other responsibilities as if I’m not struggling just to hold myself together rn.

I hate my old therapist rn, and idk if I’ll feel that way once I’m not in actual emergency mode (if I ever have that privilege), but the idea of a client feeling this way bc of me as a therapist is heartbreaking and I hope it feels that way for her too. I now have an example of what I Don’t want to be as a therapist, if I get to be one.

I hope for her other clients’ sake and for my coworkers’ sake that I was an outlier and that she knows how to competently and ethically practice therapy and supervision. But at the same time I hope she’s just a mediocre lucky person who had enough privilege to fall into a successful position. Bc if I’m the only person who’s had this kind of experience w her then what did I do to deserve that. I was an easy client. When does something get to be easy for me.

Anyway. I have supervision tomorrow and have to struggle to decide how to address this with everyone while the school sends my resume out to hospitals and food hubs and anything but therapy. I get to grieve my job while I’m still there and act cheery with everyone who gets to stay there and pretend I’m not furious at this whole situation. As my partner put it whilst I cried on their shoulder, I Don’t Deserve This

[wiltedsunrise]

sobbing… this is. literally nightmare situation JGKDH the more i like. think abt it. i think i fully checked out during one last phone call hgkdh bc like yeah the resulting reactions were very ooc for me personally 💔 and like during this one call they called me griffin and that made me sooooo so uncomfortable so. knowing i was fixated on anger i could probably say that was david and it was like. before id fuuuully lost contact w the system

bc that i genuinely did!! id had no idea!!!

anyways that call was like hgkdh aaaaaaaaaa

theyd needed a sudden like st loa bc of an unnamed family emergency. right when Hell House OCD Nightmare Apartment piqued. in trauma. we hadnt met in two weeks and i know david at that point was the only one capable of like fronting and had been for weeks due to The aunt and uncle situation. and so he like weathered new job hell job and then Hell House. and gradually used emails more bc i secretly cofronted during his one (1) session w grant and he was like. entirely unhelpful hkghd gave just enough of a reply to not require additional prodding but nothing that would facilitate like actual therapeutic progress. anyways he I Guess felt at that point more comfortable emailing. bc grant and i had long since established that i could keep a therapeutic diary via email and they did not have to read it but they could not respond.

so i later looked back and reviewed my send folder and saw 💔 he. very very graphically described The Bug Trauma. and grant also has ocd so like yeah i was instantly worried id caused that family emergency. denied it real real hard!!!! eventually talked myself out of it.

then they. finally. said theyd call me on monday to schedule our appt. they called at five pm and we were so unwell that wed literally been woken by the call 💔 so we checked in and scheduled a session a week out. an hour later, called back asking to be set up with someone else.

mentioned calling hotlines daily.

and. and i heard them. i heard them. anytime im doing well for too long i suddenly remember those sounds and i. i can never. ever. forget them. i so sincerely just want to talk to them because like good lord shared trauma with your therapist is indeed a nightmare scenario and i really should not know that id triggered them. and they were really quiet so i do not think they knew i could hear but. i could. and i immediately. checked out.

looking back i can tell that finn took over bc they were prominent in chats hgkdh they frequently cofront w david so they both talked to modern path but then finn figured it out bc they saw those clues plus realized grant was real real slow in seeing our request to reschedule. bc emails were triggering. sooooo. they checked out too and then it was just david.

and. well.

more trauma yay!!!!!! good lord.

i feel sosososo bad but. yeah i. i genuinely. i dont know how to move past this without like talking to grant you know hgkhd i point blank should not know this and that call was traumatic hgldh its. man. man.

i should go eat hkghd last night i panicked bc i was fixating on that memory and nicks “ruptured beyond repair” so aaaaa

tomorrow i will.. ask… to not work the next six days with only one day off bc. good lord i genuinely cannot handle that. im hglfh well im getting better at handling this but jlghd ive worked through like. the bulk of it right. now im just left with the core of the trauma which is the hardest to address 💔 but luca the therapist grant recommended and w whom we apparently had a consult. which i do not remember bc again i checked out and was cut off from the system so i remember zero things 💔 well they keep saying i need iop without reading any of my emails which is deeply frustrating bc theyre all really positive you know jgkdh just bc i talk a lot and just bc i have bipolar — MANAGED BIPOLAR at least by me griffin — does not mean i need iop hgkdh they were also like oh i was under the impression u didnt want to work together despite my REPEATEDLY EXPLICITLY ASKING FOR THEIR HELP 💔💔💔 id said u could take ur time reading and replying and then they like

like. dude. hgkdhgldb

they havent responded so i sent a follow up just now and. hgkshlghd mentioned my hearing grant bc. yeah. Yeah. shared trauma 💔💔💔

[katyswrites]

I need some help figuring out what the universe is trying to tell me and I thought this could be the right place to ask for it.

I live in a rather small Italian town (130k ppl) and for the past three years I've had the biggest crush on this hot guy who is from another country but lives here because he's an athlete and we have a decent basketball team. I am a huge fan of said team (and have been for long before he started playing for us) and last year I managed to get an internship in the press office - I had to do a mandatory three months internship to graduate university and the place there was available so...

While I was working there I had what was undoubtedly a meet cute: I was walking very fast down the street because I was late to catch the last bus and at some point a car parked almost on the sidewalk and the door opened and I was so ready to scream at a stranger for making me miss my bus but then he came out of the car, looked at me, smiled at me, figured out that I was in a rush and then moved out of the way to allow me to keep walking. I saw him at work that night and the night after but there was nothing but a quick look my way. During the internship I talked to him only once while I was creating some content for the team's socials with him and another player.

The season ended, nothing happened, I clearly was the one at fault because I'm the one with the crush and I wasn't able to use the chance that the universe had given me.

About a month ago I started seeing a new therapist, and until I showed up to her office I had no idea where it was, but on my second session I saw at the entrance someone who I know works for the team and I remembered a conversation during the internship about someone's internet not working and sending them help at that address. I texted my friends "this is where some of the players live, do you see where I'm going with this?" as a joke because no way that was happening AND THEN A WEEK AFTER I MET HIM WHILE HE WAS COMING DOWN THE STAIRS AND I WAS GOING UP!!!

Now. My immediate analysis of this situation was that the universe was giving me a second meet cute but then the following day we lost our last game of playoff, and the day after that we had this sort of going away party where the fans can say goodbye to the players (or "have a good summer" to the ones we know are coming back) and I wanted really bad to go take a pic with him but I was with my parents, and all the people I worked with last year were there and I was a bit too embarrassed to do it. So he has yet another year of contract with us, but next fall I am leaving for a two years course rather far from where I live now, so I now believe that the universe was mocking me and telling me "if only you had done something a year ago, you would've known for ages where his apartment is"

I need a fellow romantic to help me. What do you think? Sorry for the long ask but I need an outside opinion 😪😪

Hi! This one’s been sitting in my inbox a while, honestly because I’ve been thinking about how to answer it. And to be honest, as much as I LOVE you thinking of me as “a fellow romantic,” I feel like I give pretty terrible advice with these things 😅. My romantic life has been… well, eventful, but not often successful. But, I’ll do my best. I mean, it sounds like you really like this guy, and if you keep encountering him, why not shoot your shot? If it goes badly, yes, it might be embarrassing. But, at least he’s someone you only run into sometimes as opposed to a close friend or coworker or something, so it wouldn’t be as crazy awkward day-to-day, if that makes sense? I know the fact that you’re going away doesn’t help, but also maybe that’s why it’s worth taking the shot! I’d say just follow your gut, even if all it takes is ten seconds of bravery ☺️

[indyhypnosis]

How To Free Yourself From Compulsive Behavior

“I’m not sure if you can help, but we are desperate. I have an 11-year-old son who pulls at his eyelashes when he gets nervous. It got so bad last year that he pulled all his eyelashes out, and the kids at school teased him relentlessly.

Now he’s having trouble going to school, and it’s really affecting his self-esteem. We’ve tried taking him to a therapist, but that didn’t help, and the doctor just wanted to medicate him. But I’m not comfortable with that.

So I got online to search for alternative approaches, and your name came up. I read several of your reviews, and you’ve helped people with lots of different issues like this. Do you think you can help my son?”

The mind is mighty, and over the last several decades, pioneers like Richard Bandler, John Grinder, Fritz Perls, Milton Erickson, and Virginia Satir have given us a keen understanding of how the brain creates our subjective realities.

I’ve been studying their work for 34 years and have applied their insights and strategies in over 15,000+ coaching sessions to find the precise formulas for changing habits and belief systems.

As a result of all that experience, when that desperate mom called asking if I could help her son, I confidently replied yes.

One week after our first 30-minute session, the mom and her son happily reported that he had not touched his eyelashes “not even one single time!”

They were ecstatic with the positive outcomes, and the boy’s self-esteem continues to grow stronger as he learns how to shift and redirect the urges if they resurface.

I’ve freed many people from trichotillomania (the nervous habit of pulling out one’s hair on the head and body) over the years.

Sometimes, women came in wearing wigs because they had pulled out every hair on their heads!

Traditional counseling (talking about your problems), cognitive behavioral therapy (advanced positive thinking), and behavior modification techniques do an unsatisfactory job of alleviating compulsive behavior.

You might then wonder what I did to free that young boy from his terrible pulling habit.

I applied the One Belief Away™ method.

First, we hypnotically took him back to the first time he pulled at his eyelashes.

When I asked how old he was then, the boy replied, “I’m seven.”

It was fascinating watching an eleven-year-old float back to when he was seven so he could give himself the love, comfort, and resources he did not possess at the time.

Once we “healed” up that driving emotional wound from his past, I helped his brain diffuse the urge to pull at his eyelashes by changing the submodalities and doing the “throw-away.”

He imagined the urge to pull as a “green circle” on his eyelashes.

Then I had him grab that green circle, remove it from his eyes, and throw it on the ground.

As I watched him do this, his body noticeably relaxed.

Then I asked him what happened, and he said, “the green fell on the floor and melted away.”

Over the next week, he practiced throwing away that green feeling, although he reported that it was only necessary a couple of times.

It’s been three weeks since our last session, and he continues to remain “pull-free,” which his family says is a miracle.

But it’s not a miracle, it’s brain science, and anyone can learn how to use the power of their mind to create their life by design!

Every day, I teach people how to free themselves from what holds them back so they can live a happier, healthier, and wealthier lifestyle.

I’m also Certifying others to use my One Belief Away™ method.

It will revolutionize the personal development industry when people realize how much more effective and advanced this approach is compared to traditional coaching, counseling, social work, and psychiatry.

There is no longer any reason to remain stuck/blocked/haunted by the past, frozen in the present, or fearful of the future.

Regardless of the challenge, trauma, bad habit, or desire, you can experience inspiring results in a short amount of time that will alter your destiny and provide you with a life you love living each day.

This year, I’m grateful for the gift of being able to free hundreds of clients from self-sabotaging beliefs and behaviors.

It makes me shudder to think how their lives may have turned out if we hadn’t met.

So here’s to finishing this year strong, creating magic in your daily lives, and making 2023 one of your best years.

🙂 Tim Shurr, MA

[husnaot]

Week 2: Client-centred? aka the approach to success in intervention ;)

When I was applying to study OT, I truly had no idea what it actually was. I was told by a speech therapist that it was easy and just "throwing a ball with a child" and that it's a good profession to get into.

Looking back on it now, only the last point remains valid.

OT, I've realised, truly encompasses a holistic way of life. Not only do we look at the client from their diagnostic point of view, but also their ways and means of life. Client-centred is looking at your client and planning their treatment based on what their interests, means of volition and daily occupations are. This builds rapport with the client as they are more eager to participate when an activity interests them.

This week I missed a shot but also scored a decent goal.

We, unfortunately, missed our full, 8-hour day of practical for the week, yet again. I recognise that it is not something that we can change, merely another external factor that dictates our life process. It's not our plan and therefore it is trivial to be disappointed in myself over what I cannot control.

Because of this missing day, I was unsure of whether my client would still be at the hospital when I returned on Wednesday, therefore, my ideas for treatment were at an all-time low.

Should I continue with treating my client psychologically? Should I rather prepare an ADL activity? No, she is independent in them all, so what is the point? I was unsure of what to do and, for fear of disappointing, I did nothing and prayed for her to at least be there.

When Wednesday arrived, I had a major lightbulb moment. The client is a mother! She loves to take care of people! She has a good appetite and loves food! What better activity than a meal preparation and cleanup?!

With the electricity still running, I asked my supervisor for advice on a and it was, fortunately, well received. The bulb grew brighter with every piece of advice inputted and I left the hospital running on the remaining energy to plan for my session the next day.

The process of completing the write up for the session was surprisingly easy because I now had an activity that was meant for the client. Implementing it went pretty fantastic in my opinion. My client was happy to engage in the activity and I could tell that she enjoyed it on a surface level, at least.

In hindsight, based off of the feedback I received, I realised that I need to look more into my aims to understand what I am looking for in the activity. It is not enough that the client enjoys the activity, but that I, as an OT, also treat during it.

I learned that I need to look deeper into my secondary aims in order to gauge each step that the activity should take. I feel like I'm still stuck in the assessment mindset and so I'm looking to test the client instead of trying to improve aspects of their performance.

Although my supervisor said that it was a good activity choice, the consequence feedback I received offered even more guidance and understanding of the OT process. I'm grateful for the chance that mid-terms offers so that I myself can improve for finals.

Next week, I will try to implement client-centredness into, not only my activity choice, but also the aims that the client and I need to achieve.

There's a lot to learn while on practicals, and I am glad I have the open mindset to absorb the information. The next step is working on perfect implementation!

Let's go through with Finals!!!!

[theravenstag-andtheteacup]

My Teacup

I had just finished yet another therapy session with a patient. It would’ve been better if he wasn’t so...rude. Alas, he lives another day. For now. All I have on my mind right now is this session with my dear Will. Speaking of, there he was in my waiting room.

“Will? Are you ready?”

“I do believe I am, doctor Lecter.”

I watched Will come in, and slowly take his spot in the chair across from me.

“How have you been, Will?”

“Do you want the truth or the lie?”

I smiled, “the truth, please.”

“Let’s see, nightmares are still happening, I’m not functioning well, and I can’t keep track of most things.” Will said, looking down for a moment, and then back up at me.

I asked him the standard questions, and listened to his answer.

“Will, I want you to take a break. A break from all of this.”

“Like therapy?”

“No, not this in particular, just work. You’re doing too much in a short amount of time. It’s not good for you, really.”

Will nodded, and agreed.

“Should I take up fishing again? Or rather just take up the simple things?”

I thought for a moment.

“Fishing could do you good. You and your dogs on a lake, away from society for a while.”

“Well, I’d like you to be there.” Will said, smiling up at me.

I checked my calendar for the upcoming week, and noticed that it was blank.

“I’d love to. Now, cabin or tent?”

Will sat there for a moment in silence. “Cabin. Just, nothing Hobbs like. Please.”

I agreed, and our session ended. I made Will dinner, and dessert. Off he went afterwards.

I nodded, and looked in a near region for cabins for the next couple of days. I called Will about this cabin I found. Two floors, new, and furnished.

The arrival wasn’t bad. It was actually really nice. We took turns driving, but it wasn’t long. Will let his dogs explore the area, and they returned to their rightful owner.

Will had the biggest smile on his face when he looked around. I helped him unload everything, and we both headed inside.

“What do you think, Will?”

He smiled even more, and gently kissed my cheek. “I love it, Hannibal.” Then he went upstairs to the bedroom.

I stood there for a moment. Lightly rubbing the area he kissed me on. I sighed happily, and joined Will upstairs.

He was already in his comfortable clothes, and I felt very overdressed.

“Aren’t you gonna strip the layers? I can leave the room, if you’d prefer.”

I turned to face Will, and said, “I-I’d prefer if you’d stay. If that’s okay, of course, I-I-“

I was cut off by a pair of chapped lips on mine. He tasted like coffee and bagels.

Will pulled away, and smiled up at me.

“You’re so adorable when you get like this.” Will said, holding me.

“Thank you, Will.” I said, wrapping my arms around him.

I changed and we went back downstairs and into the kitchen. I made us steaks, baked potatoes, and mixed vegetables. I also made food for the dogs. Given that they enjoyed it last time.

During the stay, my fragile teacup was put back together. As if it was never cracked. I asked Will if he wanted to stay longer, and he agreed. Unfortunately for me, Jack called asking if Will is going to come back soon. Thankfully. Will was asleep.

“Jack, Will is going to prolong his stay at the cabin.”

“Hannibal, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We need Will in the field!”

I was taken aback by Jack’s reaction, but I kept my composure.

“Jack, Will needs time off from the world. Especially from the FBI. If he keeps this up, god only knows what could happen. As his therapist and friend, I don’t advise any of that just yet.”

“Are you saying that I’m the cause for Will’s behavioral issues?”

“Deep breath, Hannibal.” I thought to myself. “No. But, you are a factor. I understand that you want what’s best for Will, but this is not the way to go. Please listen to me, Jack.”

“Fine. Will can have the rest of the month off, but no more.”

I was rudely passed of to the sound of a dial tone.

I decided that it was time to make dinner. I snooped around for both Will and his dogs, but soon found out that they’ve gone fishing. As soon as I could grab my coat, Will and his muddy dogs came into the cabin. Will had a wide assortment of fish.

“For you, Hannibal.” He said, laying the cooler full of fish besides me.

I made dinner for all of us, and then Will went off to shower. I swapped out his atrocious aftershave for something more heavenly.

“Hannibal, did you change my aftershave?”

“Yes. It was horrendous to be around.”

“I like this stuff more.”

I smiled, and followed him to bed.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to sleep, Will?”

“I think so. Just, be close to me, please.”

“Of course, Will.”

I held Will, slowly running a hand through his hair, and gently moved him onto my chest, trying not to disturb his sleep.

“D-don’t move...too...comfortable.”

I smiled, and whispered, “I won’t. Go to sleep, baby.”

Will smiled, and rubbed my neck in his sleep. I held him close, and fell asleep with him in my arms.

Jack kept calling, but I just let them go to voicemail, and delete them before Will came back. I wanted Will to enjoy his time away from everything.

Unfortunately for me, Jack showed up.

“Where’s Will?” Jack asked, inviting himself in.

“Oh, good morning to you too, Jack. Please, do come in.” I said, sarcastically. I rolled my eyes as he set jacket onto the couch.

“Hannibal, where’s Will?”

I couldn’t think of a witty comment, so I said, “gone fishing.”

“Very funny, Hannibal. Where. Is. Will?”

“Exactly as I said. Gone fishing.”

Another unfortunate event, Will came in the door with his dogs, fish, and poles.

“Huh, you were fishing.”

“J-Jack?” I could tell Will was nervous by the way he asked.

“Yes, and you haven’t returned any of my calls, or anything. Now, why is that?”

“I never got any of your calls, let alone anything else.”

Will’s voice was starting to strain. I escorted Will into another room.

“Let me handle Jack.”

“Okay. Just don’t kill him, please.”

“I won’t.”

I kissed the top of Will’s head, and went back to take care of Jack.

“Hannibal, this isn’t appropriate, and you of all people should know this.”

“And I think that you, of all people, should know that if you push Will too far, he won’t come back to himself. Leave Will alone.”

“What are you, his boyfriend? His protector? Or are you his dad?”

I smiled and laughed, “I’m the only one who listens to him. I’m his best friend, his lover, and his soon-to-be fiancé.”

“Fiancé? You want to take more time away from Will in the field? I can’t believe you.”

“Well, I’m sorry Jack, but I’m not here for you. I’m here for Will.”

With that, Jack left the cabin.

“Will?”

“Yes?”

“Are you ready to come down?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Dinner was made, and ready at the table.

“Hannibal?”

“Yes, Will?”

“I, uh, have a question.”

I looked at him, straight in the eyes. He held my gaze.

“Yes, Will?”

“I’ve had this on my mind for awhile now, and, Uh, would you like to have this?”

Will handed me his ring. I couldn’t say no.

“I actually have a surprise for you too, honey.”

“You do?”

I reached into my pocket, and had the box in my hand.

“Will?”

“Yes...?”

There, I could tell he was nervous.

“Will, I’ve loved you for the longest time. Even though you did pull a gun on me, and didn’t want to see me, for understandable reasons, but, William Graham, will you do the honors of making me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

Will had tears in his eyes, and I held his hands in mine.

“Hannibal...yes. A thousand times yes!”

I kissed him, and slipped the ring onto him.

“Hannibal, I love you.”

“I love you too, Will. Forever and always.”

And there we spent the rest of our days, in that cabin with our dogs, and our wondrous lake.

[burning-basilisk]

Today marks a full year since I said the words to her: "I want a divorce."

I've told the story multiple times. It gets a little easier to tell, every time.

Our marriage was basically sexless. She still showered me with affection, most of the time, and I did everything I could for her, with the context that I was absolutely useless, as a husband. I accepted it. I was not fulfilling her, especially physically. I had absolutely no reason to believe that anything I did was or could be right or enough.

The morning of January 21st was the last time we shared a bed together.

We were at her parents' place, where she quarantined right before New Year's due to a COVID exposure.

That night, 1/21/2022, I went back down to San Diego, she asked me if it would be okay to consider opening up our marriage, because she simply isn't getting what she needs from me.

I told her that it was worth exploring. I told her that she could sext some of the people she met on her smartphone game, and if things escalated, we could talk about it and see how it goes.

The next three days, I had basically no contact from her. All I got was a short phone call around midnight. I just wanted to hear her voice once before I slept.

On January 26th, at around 1:30 AM, she calls me to offer me an ultimatum.

Either we go 100% open marriage immediately, wherein I am allowed to pick up a girl from a bar and fuck her immediately without any obligation to tell Ruchi anything, and she gets the same freedom, or we "take a break".

Neither of these options were acceptable to me. I hated both of them and had a very bad emotional outburst. Defaulted to the second option, I guess, because I heard her say the words "I am leaving you." Still hoping my auditory memory of that fades eventually.

Friday the 28th was our final couple's therapy session. When I offered to schedule another, or find a new couple's therapist, she declined.

She told me she didn't want me to touch her anymore.

I asked if we could meet in person. On February 12th, we agreed to meet at a coffee shop in Downton San Diego. We talked, and it was mostly pleasant. Before we parted ways, she sat me down in her car and told me about some more of the friends that she had met through her app game. One of them was a guy she had been sexting. She gave me multiple aliases, but nothing I could actually use to identify him. I'm actually grateful for that, in retrospect.

She also asked me if I could spend a few weeks with my parents next month (March), since I have had the apartment to myself for months and she would also like to have that. I never, ever wanted her absence, but nevertheless I acquiesced. I made plans for an extended stay with my parents in March.

Two weeks later, February 26th, we meet again. This time, at the Starbucks were we would meet during lunch breaks while I was at my first ever programming job.

The conversation was shakier, this time. I was trying to get her to understand what I was going through, because I was experiencing an emotional storm unlike any other. She was receptive to none of it, and honestly seemed rather frustrated that I was making the interaction so unpleasant.

As we were leaving, we stood next to her car and she told me that the aforementioned guy she was sexting had expressed an intention to visit "next month" (again, March). I looked her in the eye and asked her if she would be willing to have sex with him. She said yes.

I didn't sleep that night. I couldn't tell heads from tails. At around noon the next day, I called her, and said, near if not actual verbatim "My insecurities are screaming at me... I have to know. When did he tell you that he wanted to visit?"

Her response was "I don't know. A couple of days ago? A week ago? Two weeks ago? What does it matter" and proceeded to tell me that I was accusing her of cheating. After all, he didn't even set a date to visit yet, so why was I so upset?

The vast majority of my brainpower was devoted exclusively to trying to fix this absolute trainwreck of a marriage, because everything was 100% exclusively my fault. I accepted that. I had to. Because no alternative was acceptable.

My imagination met its limit. She didn't want me to touch her. She didn't want to see another couple's therapist. My only option was to pray for more chances to meet with her, and wait to find out if she was actually going to invite a stranger from the internet across the country and into bed with her.

That night, I cried louder than I ever have in my entire adult life. I fucking wailed.

When I woke up the following day, February 28th, I tried to think of what else I could do. How could I appease her? How can I fix this? But all I saw, in my mind, were rehearsals of me saying the words "I want a divorce" while looking her in the eyes.

I thought, surely, this will pass. I'm not some defeatist. I don't give up, even when I probably should.

The week passes, but rehearsing those words is all my brain returns to me whenever I wonder about Ruchi, which is basically always. I pack up my things for the extended stay at my parents' place.

I am alone in the house, dogsitting, while my parents and sister are at a veterinary conference.

I resolve that, maybe there is still some hypothetical hope left. Maybe I'll find it the next time I meet with her. But maybe not. Regardless, it was very important for me to look her in the eye when I told her. There is no form of communication that is more direct and sincere.

That Saturday, on March 5th, 2022, at 7:05 PM, she calls me to tell me that she doesn't want to have unpleasant, difficult conversations about our marriage, when we meet in person. She would rather focus on having a pleasant time together, and reserve all of those tough conversations for phone calls.

I said "Okay. Everything between you and [him] is absolutely obliterating me."

I don't remember exactly what her response was, but it was long. She talked for several minutes, used phrases like "golden cage". What I remember is that it was further justification for her actions, and explaining to me that it was all necessary.

Not a single shred of remorse. Not even the subtlest hint of acknowledgement of my pain. I guess I didn't deserve it.

After she finished talking, I took a deep breath, and said the words.

"I want a divorce."

Unlike my reaction to the words "I am leaving you", she didn't push back. In the year since, she has not even once expressed that she did not want a divorce. I suppose I should be thankful for the closure.

But also, not once have I felt regret for my decision. I expected to. I even expected the return of suicidal ideation from my college years, but that never returned. I did fall into some bad patterns of substance abuse and depression, but have come out of it.

And now, a year later... while I am unemployed and financially crippled (in large part because of a financial debt that to her that is far larger than I think is fair, but hey I agreed to it. Integrity is a bitch to maintain), I still feel more emotionally sound and confident (career status notwithstanding) than ever before.

In the apocalyptic emotional storm, I found an anchor of self-worth that I am slowly building into a solid foundation of character, truly rooted in my own values, instead of copied and grafted from others. I am more okay with asserting myself, even if it runs the risk of being off-putting.

But I absolutely could not have done it without my family and friends.

I honestly didn't feel like anyone actually liked me, ever. I thought that she brought out the best in me, and without her, who would tolerate me?

I still can't describe WHY anyone might like me, but the real miracle is that I don't feel like I need to, anymore. I can actually just... accept affection, now, especially from those closest to me. I can accept that people love me without needing to justify it or caveat it to validate the absence of my self-worth. Because that is no longer absent.

...

If you have made it this far, thank you for reading this. Some of you have seriously helped me through one of the darkest times in my life. Whether it was genuine feedback and emotional support, or just willingness to listen and be there... or maybe just a "like" on one of my long emotional tirades... I am deeply grateful. Even if your presence on Tumblr is just wallpaper around the internet void that I am screaming into... I am still grateful.

Even if our connections fade apart over time, thank you for helping preserve the embers of my inner fire.

[anti-romantico]

[unethical relationship] ateez yunho P A R T T W O

warnings: therapist!reader, sexaddict!yunho (?), oral (m & f), unprotected sex (do i even have to say it?), dirty talking, uses of: [slut, baby], yh being bossy, hair pulling (f recieving), mouth fucking, over a desk, yh getting turned on by the thought of reader not being on the pill, creampie, fingering, sex tape, cum eating and then they kiss so they share it, riding, spanking, belly bulge, choking

A/N: read author's note from P A R T O N E

words: 5.3k

4th Session

The receptionist was even more confused when he saw Yunho opening the door. It was too early; he didn't sleep, and it was obvious.

— Yunho... Dr... — But before she could answer, you opened your door.

— It's ok, he can come in.

Yunho sat down and grabbed the glass of water you gave him.

— It's 6am, Yunho.

— I was your first patient of the day, why are you here? — Yunho finished his water and put the glass on the table in front of him.

— Doing the paperwork because one of my patients decided to drop out at the last minute.

— I came to apologize.

— At 6 in the morning and probably drunk or hungover?

— None, I didn't drink.

— I accept your apologies, anything else? — You grabbed the glass and got up to pour more water.

— Please, don't push me away, I'm sorry. — Yunho got close to you, holding his head. — I fucked someone else last night and not once were you on my mind.

— Which means therapy worked, congratulations, the door is there. — You pointed at the door, but you only got Yunho grabbing your arm and pulling you close to him.

— Look at me in the eyes and tell me this is one-sided. — You tried to push him away. — Tell me I was the only was fantasizing about fucking you in that couch.

— I thought you came to apologize. — You said, pushing your dirty thoughts away.

— I don't want to lose you. — Yunho brushed his lips from your cheek to your ear.

— You said I wasn't your friend.

— I don't want fuck my friends. — His body pushed yours until you back felt the cabinet where you put books and toys for your small patients.

— We can't, Yunho, this is so inappropriate. — You said, trying to convince yourself you didn't want this.

Yunho pulled your hands and took you to the couch, alarming you. — Let's talk, then.

You looked at him confused. — Talk? — You stayed there standing in front of Yunho while he sat down.

— Is this one-sided?

— No.

— Do I have an opportunity?

— I don't know, Yunho, I'm confused. I just got out of a long relationship. You are... were my patient until yesterday. This is too messy.

— Ok, ok, relax, come... — Yunho pulled you down, making you sit down next to him.

— Look, I think we both need to... think about all this. This week is going to be good for us. — Yunho nodded. — Also, there aren't any new doctors, so I need you to make a journal or a diary about last week and this next week.

— I didn't accept the new doctor thing, [Y/N].

— I know, but that's my condition to talk with you next week. Also, no sex for the week, I think you'll be fine.

— Are you going to make me suffer for what I did? — Yunho smirked, following you with his eyes as you walked to your desk.

— No, this is the therapist talking, also don't forget your activities. — You said tying your hair and sitting down on your chair.

Yunho was walking out of the building when he saw Ryujin getting down from her car.

— A warning could've been nice, you know? — Yunho said, making Ryujin smile when she saw him. — You look different.

— I hope that's good. — Yunho nodded. — Well, thanks, then. I enjoyed it, by the way.

— Me too, uh... we don't have to... you know, do it again. — Yunho said scratching the back of his head.

— She caught you on her web, didn't she? — Yunho frowned, causing Ryujin to laugh. — You're not the first one that falls for Dr. Lee's charms, handsome. But we're the ones getting therapy, it must be our fault.

— It's not like she's interested in me. — Yunho said, he didn't like the way she was talking about you.

— Relax, handsome, just telling you what I know. She's never interested, pretty sure she's already back with her boyfriend. It's always like that, they break up, either she or he cheated on the other and after a week they are together again. — Ryujin checked her phone and then put it in her back pocket. — You have my number in case you want to... you know, do it again, I do keep my promises. — She gave him a soft kiss on the lips before walking to the building. Yunho caught you staring from your window.

{-----}

— So, she's not your therapist anymore? — Mingi asked Yunho once he finished to tell him and Seonghwa the whole story.

— I don't think so. — Yunho drank from his beer and looked at Seonghwa. — Look, I'm sorry for not telling you this, but sending me to therapy because I enjoy fucking in front of others was my limit.

— You need others' consent to making it right, Yunho.

— I know, the cops told me that the first time they arrested me.

— Wait, so Yunho never needed therapy? — Mingi said, cleaning the corner of his mouth.

— No, and we only made it worse by getting her a cute doctor. — Seonghwa joked, making Yunho smile.

— If it makes you feel better, I finally talked about... her.

— And how did you feel? — Mingi got up and grabbed another beer from the table.

— I didn't feel anything, it was like talking with you two.

— Now I get why you were so down for her in just a week. — Seonghwa teased.

— It wasn't that fast.

— Yes, it was. — Seonghwa smirked, emptying his beer.

— And what will happen? — Mingi looked at his phone.

— What do you mean?

— I mean, you'll talk to her, pretty sure she will tell you how she feels about you, but you also have this "Ryujin situation".

— I don't think I'll call Ryujin again, not until I know what will happen with [Y/N].

5th Session

Yunho couldn't even consider it an appointment, he would just enter your office and give you his journal. The receptionist smiled at him as he walked.

— Come in. — Your voice made him feel nervous. Yunho opened and closed the door. — I need to do this paperwork, please sit down. — "I think she's upset"

— I thought I only needed to bring the journal.

— Then, leave it there, I really need to finish this, I don't have time. — You said continuing to write and type.

Yunho slowly walked to your desk and left the journal. — At what time can I pick you up?

— For what?

— To talk, you said we will talk.

— I said I needed to think about it, and I haven't had the time to think about it.

Yunho grabbed the journal again and walked to the door, but suddenly stopped. — Is this because you saw me kissing Ryujin?

— No, Yunho, my feelings don't revolve around you. — You said, massaging your temples.

— Then, why are you acting like this? Not saying we were fine, but you definitely weren't mad at me when I left. — You didn't answer, you just went back to your work. It wasn't urgent, but you needed an excuse to not think about Yunho. — Are you jealous?

You laughed without humor. — You talked about fucking girls this past month with me, and you think I fucking care about a kiss? — You put down your pen and got up from your chair.

— Then, tell me what's wrong. — Yunho got close to your desk and threw the journal.

— You should go, Yunho, this is getting personal, and I still have to do the paperwork for your voluntary discharge.

— It's about that? You didn't want me to leave? We both know I never needed therapy.

— I never forced you to stay, if you consider you don't need therapy then there is no more reason for you to come.

— For fucks sake, [Y/N], give me something! I can't read your mind. — Yunho walked around your desk and gave a quick look at what you were doing. — This is not about my discharge.

— You're not my only patient, Yunho.

— But you still have my time free, by now you could already have another patient, but you didn't take any other case. — Yunho leaned down and cage you against your desk.

— Get out of my office, Yunho.

— Are you sure that's what you want? — He whispered; his face really close to you. But a couple of soft knocks pulled him away from her, casually taking his journal from the floor.

— Sorry, but it's the report ready? — The receptionist asked from the door.

— It's almost done, I'll send it once I finish. — She nodded and left. — 9pm, I'll close for her since I have to prepare some stuff for other patients.

Yunho smirked and got close to you again. — See you then. — He leaned down and kissed your cheek before leaving.

You could see his car parked right outside your window, but he wasn't inside of it. It was only 8pm, but the last patient had already left, and the receptionist was just turning off her computer when she saw Yunho entering the building.

— She's in her office. — Yunho almost laughed and nodded.

He knocked before opening the door without your permission. You were closing the blinds.

— I have to check the security system, come in. — You said, walking out the room.

Yunho poured a glass of water before sitting down in his usual place on the couch.

— Ok, I'm almost done, so if you want to vent something, go ahead, I won't charge you. — You joked, making him chuckle.

"I think she's in a better mood, that's your sign" — I went to test myself again. — Yunho said, giving another sip to his glass. — Also talked with my friends, I've been hiding them a lot lately, at least they apologized for sending me to therapy for having an exhibitionism kink. — You nodded, smirking at the mention of his "kink" — You have some?

— This is about you wanting to vent something, Yunho, not about me. — You went back to your desk and started to save everything in different folders.

— Oh, come on, you let me hear how you destroyed your stupid ex by the phone, I think secrets between us shouldn't exist.

— That was an accident, it was the first time I took a phone call while working and didn't know that bathroom was going to expose me like that. — You wrote your patients' names in each folder.

— Then tell me about the patient you had before me. — Yunho said in a more serious tone. You looked at him scared, how the fuck did he know?

Yunho sent Ryujin a message with his address, she just took 20 minutes to arrive. None of his roommates were home yet and he needed to take advantage of that.

— If I'm honest, I thought that I'd never hear from you. — Ryujin said when Yunho opened his door.

— I didn't call you for that. — Yunho stopped Ryujin when she tried to kiss him.

— Of course you didn't. — Ryujin leaned her back on the wall and crossed her arms. — Is this about what I told you the other week? — Yunho walked to his couch and patted next to him. — You're too handsome to worry about a woman that most likely is fucking her boyfriend again.

Yunho sat down, putting distance between them and looked at her. — I just want to know about the "other times"

— There is only one before you, at least that I know about. — Ryujin made memory. — Hongjoong was his name. He had an actual sex addiction. He would tried to fuck whoever cross the building door, walked close to him in the parking lot, breath in the same direction as him... you get the idea. He waited at least 3 weeks for a doctor to take his case, before that, he had to go to the building every day. Until your girl got called and immediately took the case. Her boss got her security and even a gun just in case, but somehow, Hongjoong started to get better, he would ignore any female around him and patiently wait for his appointment. I was sure Lee would have a statue outside the building after he got his discharge. But then, Lee's boyfriend came to the building, and he was mad. He yelled at everyone to tell him where she was. Lee didn't have an option, but to let him get in her office.

— And? — Yunho said when Ryujin went silent.

— Hongjoong hacked the security system and got a 7-week-long footage of him and Lee fucking in her office every time he had an appointment. — Ryujin took a deep breath and looked at Yunho, the poor guy looked like a puppy that just got scolded. — He sent it to Lee's boyfriend in an attempt to make him break up with her. They did, but got back together after two weeks.

— Wait, the 7 weeks of this guy having [Y/N] as a therapist, they fucked?

— She was his therapist for 9 weeks, but I guess two weeks was for them to get to know each other enough for her to risk her job and license.

— And how is it that the police didn't get involved?

— Lee convinced her boyfriend to not call them. He was sure the sex was unconsented. Not sure how her boss didn't fire her.

— How do you know all of this?

— After Hongjoong's discharge, I started to frequent him in this cafeteria close to my house. I tried to avoid him at first, just in case, but he was nice. He would pay for my coffee, get me pastries. He told me his plan after a couple of weeks; I tried to tell him to leave Lee alone, but he was obsessed with her. — Ryujin went silent again. — Last thing I knew it was that Lee talked to Hongjoong behind her boyfriend's back. They had their "closure" and Hongjoong promised to not bother her again. I never saw him after that.

You took a deep breath and finished putting the folders in your drawer. — Who told you about that?

— So, it's true? — Yunho walked to you and got behind your chair. — Why did you take my case, Dr. Lee? — He whispered in your ear. — You have enough experience to know that I never needed therapy, you could've said that to my friend, but you didn't.

— Yunho. — You turned your head, finding Yunho's really close to yours. Not a single word came out of your mouth.

Yunho smirked. "she's all yours" — Stand up and hands on the desk, baby. — You obeyed, making Yunho's cock twitch in his pants.

— I did tell your friend you didn't need therapy, that liking being watched was something normal. — You went silent when you felt his big hand palmed your butt.

— I guess I'll have to talk with Mingi later. — Yunho pulled you from your shoulders and turned you around. — Now, I want you to take off your blaze. — This time you didn't immediately obey, making him lean his head to the side. — Didn't make myself clear? — He grabbed your leg and made you round his hip with it; you could feel his bulge. — I said, take off that fucking blaze. — You threw your head back when his hip buckled into you.

You finally did it, letting him see your white blouse. — Who told you about Hongjoong?

— That's not important, baby, he is not important. — Yunho took off your glasses and threw them on the desk. — Get on your knees.

And you didn't know if it was pure excitement, but your legs immediately gave up when he said those words. He didn't have to tell you what to do next, you undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. He helped you by pulling his clothes down, letting you see his hard cock right in front of you.

— I know you won't mind. — You looked up at his words, finding his phone pointing at your face. — It wasn't that hard to guess you love being recorded, but you couldn't risk it again, I know the cameras of your office are off. — You smirked and felt yourself wetting your panties. — What are you waiting for? Suck my cock.

You took his cock with one hand and stroked it before starting to give kitten licks. Yunho bit his lip and tried to keep his hands steady; he was going to love this video. You sucked on the head, making him moan, god you needed to hear more of that. Slowly, you put him fully inside your mouth before pulling it out and repeating, but Yunho wasn't enjoying your teasing, so he grabbed your head and made you deep-throat him, you took a breath from your nose and looked up. "I fucking knew it" Yunho thought, pulling your hair back and repeating his actions. Being used by Yunho was something you've been fantasizing from the moment he crossed your door, his height making you wish he would carry you around and fuck you on every surface in your office, and you knew his cock was big, you would touched yourself by the thought of him fucking your mouth.

He buckled up his hips, just the way you wanted him to, making you moan around him. Yunho's thrusts were fast and aggressive, worrying about you from time to time, but when you started to moan around him, his concerns disappeared. He didn't last long after you swallowed around him, once again earning a moan from him. Soon after, you felt his cum in your mouth, and even though he tried to pull you back, you grabbed his thighs and looked straight to the phone, swallowing every drop.

— Fuck, you're so hot, baby, come here. — And without caring you had cum and spit around your mouth and jaw, Yunho pulled you from your hair and kissed you. He pulled away, making you whine. When you opened your eyes, you saw him walking to a cabinet beside the window and positioned the phone. He went back to you and kissed you rough, one of his hands traveled down your clothed cunt and put some pressure, making you bite his lip. His skilled fingers opened your jeans, entering to massage you over your underwear. — Why did you take my case, baby? — He asked again, continuing with the teasing.

— Your friend... fuck... Your friend told me about the few times you got arrested. — Your breaths were mixing. You kissed him, him attacking your tongue with his, your right hand grabbed his arms when he started to pay a little bit more attention to your clit. — I knew it was just a kink after our first session.

— And why did you keep scheduling more sessions? — Yunho kissed your cheek, patiently waiting for you to answer.

— I wanted to see you more.

— If I remember correctly, you argued with your ex about him cheating on you, but you did the same before. Why? — Yunho kneeled in front of you, pulling your bottoms down in the process.

— Yunho, please, don't want to talk about that right now. — You brushed his hair out of his eyes before he started to give little kisses on your thighs.

— Answer me. — Yunho got close to your cunt, brushing his lips and pulling your left leg, putting it over your chair. He now had access.

— After Hongjoong, we didn't exactly get back together, we established we could see other people since our relationship was getting... boring. — You bit your lip when he gave you a long lick. — The rule was to tell the other about it... but he didn't tell me about this girl he was fucking at the same time I was fucking Hongjoong. — Yunho sucked hard, making you grab his hair and pull it slightly. — He dared to get mad at me for cheating on him when he did the same.

Yunho nodded, but didn't answer, instead, he ate you out like his life depended on it. You held on to the edge of your desk for support and moaned aloud. Yunho's tongue was definitely skilled, not a single zone of your cunt got ignored. You felt one of his fingers teased your entry, making you whimper.

— Open your blouse, but don't take it off. — You did as he told you, massaging your tits over your bra once it was fully open. You looked down and found his eyes already on you.

You pinched your nipples when he thrusted his tongue in you, making him chuckle. His finger finally penetrated you and just a second later he added another one. You kept moaning while trying to not fall, you were giving your butt all your trust to keep you on the desk, and you hope it didn't betray you.

Yunho stopped his actions and stood up, his lips swallowed and glistering. — So, it's over with them? — Yunho asked as he unhooked your bra straps and back to take it off.

You nodded confused on why he was so interested. You put your leg down and glare at his tall figure when he took off his hoodie and shirt. — Are you going to let me cum?

— I don't know, baby, I think you deserve to suffer a little more. — Yunho kissed again in a soft and almost romantic way. — Tell me how much you need me.

— You already made me wait over a month to fuck me, Jeong, please do it already. — You said in a whine, pulling him close to you by the neck.

Yunho laughed at your desperate voice. He guided his cock to your pussy, teasing you a little, and without letting you protest, he rammed into you, making you moan over his mouth. He grabbed one of your legs and rounded his hip with it to have better access while the other one was back on your chair.

The pace was slow, but the thrusts were hard, making the desk move under you two. His sharp moves made you speechless, you swore you felt him in your stomach. Your tits were bouncing along with his hips, hypnotizing him. He loved the way that blouse looked on you, just like every blouse you wore, but what he didn't know was that it was on purpose, you notice the way he would eye at your chest every time you would lean over to write, every time you got close to him, his eyes would be on your boobs.

— You better not try to keep those pretty sounds to yourself. — Yunho growled when he noticed you trying to not be too loud by biting your lower lip.

The feeling of his skin inside you made you dizzy, throwing your head back and opening your mouth. Your blouse falling on your sides, giving Yunho the whole view.

— F-faster... please. — You protested.

Yunho smirked again and leaned his head to the side. — Wouldn't that be too much?

Shaking your head, no, you grabbed his neck and kissed him. — Fuck me faster, baby, please. — You said over his lips.

And that nickname did wonders in Yunho's head. He grabbed your hips and neck for some support before starting to move his hips at a faster pace. The strength of his movements making things fall from the desk. The wet noises from the office were for sure audible if you were in the hallway. "maybe she'll have to worry about the footage of the waiting area" Yunho thought, making him squeeze your skin between his fingers. Your moans were loud, you were so close. Your fingers traveled to your clit to play with it. Yunho followed your hand, knowing exactly what you were doing. He spat a little bit of saliva to help you to massage your bud, the warm feeling making you throw your head back again.

You got tight, making it a little bit difficult for Yunho to move, but when you finally cum, your cunt relaxed, and with a couple more thrusts, Yunho cum inside you, sending shivers all over your body, making you moan.

You two took a couple of minutes to catch your breaths, Yunho's head resting on your shoulder while you scratched his hair.

Yunho raised his head and looked at you, making you smile. You shared a soft kiss before he pulled out of you. You were sensitive, but you still tried to keep his load inside you, loving the feeling.

— I hope you know by now you weren't the only one fantasizing about fucking me on that couch. — You said, smirking. Yunho walked to the phone while you went to the couch and waited for him to settle the device on the desk.

You gave him a look before pointing at the couch, indicating that you wanted him to sit down. Yunho obeyed, stroking his cock again. You hovered over him, positioning your legs on each of his sides. One of his hands was on your waist, helping you to get in position, his other hand guided his cock to your cunt, and you didn't know if he was going to tease again so you just swallowed him to not risk it.

Yunho threw his head back, not caring if the moan he let out was too loud. He rested his head in the back of the couch for a couple of seconds before looking at you again. You were struggling too, you felt him even deeper. Your eyes traveled to your stomach and bit your lip. It was barely noticeable, but it was enough for you to start bouncing over him. You grabbed Yunho's hand and made him feel himself on your stomach.

— Fuck, that's me? — Yunho moaned, you only nodded and continued bouncing.

Yunho felt his and your cum dripping out of you to his legs, making your moves easier. The wet sounds were a huge turn on for both of you.

Again, his attention was in your boobs, bouncing with you. He grabbed one with his mouth and sucked on it, massaging the nipple with his tongue. You weren't a huge fan of your ex sucking your tits, but the way Yunho did it, made you feel goosebumps.

Your legs started to get tired, and Yunho noticed it. — You want more of me inside you? — His hand was in your throat, making you whimper. You wanted him to choke you.

— Please, Yunho. — You weren't sure if you were asking him to cum inside you again or to choke you.

— Are you sure? I think you can barely handle what I just gave you. — Yunho said, referring to the wet mess between your legs. — Get up, hands on the back of the couch, you better get a good grip.

Yunho pulled out of you and gave you a small spank. You did as he says, opening your legs and waiting for him. All you felt was a rough spank; you whimpered.

— Look how you're dripping on the couch. — Another spank. — You always told me to use a condom, but look at you — His fingers soothe the pain in your butt cheek. —, begging for my cum, moaning like a fucking slut, dripping all over your legs. Hope you're on birth control... or not. — Was the last thing your brain registered before his cock fucked you from behind.

He didn't show mercy, his hand kept with the rough spanking, making you clench around him. It was so much you had to bite the couch, but not for too long; Yunho pulled your hair rough and made your back touch his chest.

— Don't you fucking dare, I want to hear every single sound coming out of you. — Yunho said between thrusts before attacking your neck. And you were about to protest squeezing his hip behind you, but the only thing you felt was his lips and tongue. — You thought I was going to leave marks? — He grabbed your neck again, this time choking you. — And risking your job? — You started to feel dizzy, loving the feeling of his fingers squeezed on the sides.

You almost thanked him for worrying about your job, but your fucked up state didn’t allow you to. Everything that came out of your mouth was whimpers and cries.

Yunho's thrusts started to be sloppy and unsynchronized, his moans were higher and louder. — Please, tell me you're close. — You nodded. He gave you a specific hard thrust that made your arms give up and rest your body on the couch. Yunho was fully on the couch, sharp and hard thrusting into you. You were the first one to cum, getting tighter around him and helping him to cum inside you again. You two didn't stop moving, riding your highs until Yunho's body fell over you, his arms on each side being the only thing keeping him from crushing you.

You noticed his arms shaking and turned your head. — Are you ok?

Yunho nodded and pulled out. You were about to get down off the couch when you felt him laying down and pulling one of your legs in the process. It took you a second to understand what he wanted.

Your pussy was immediately attacked by his tongue. His hands were on your butt squeezing it and not letting you pull away. You were sensitive and didn't know if you could cum one more time, but Yunho was determined to suck the cum out of you.

You didn't last long, your juices mixing with the ones that were already in Yunho's mouth. His glistering mouth looked so inviting, making you face him and kiss him.

His hands grabbed your ass and softly pulled you to his brand-new boner. You shook your head no, but your hand was already on its way to his cock. He gasped when you started to stroke him while your tongues were fighting for dominance. Yunho's hip buckled up, asking you to stroke faster, so you did. The skin of his cock wasn't wet enough for your liking, so you got up and spat on it.

He growled when he felt your mouth on him again, but didn't have the energy to even guide your head, he just needed to cum. You sucked and choked on him, making it easier for him to shoot his load in your mouth.

You finally laid on his chest, catching your breaths. You trace the lines of his abs, making him flex his muscles under your touch.

— How do you feel? — You asked, the doctor in you escaping of her comfort zone.

— Tired, but satisfied. — Yunho answered, grabbing your face and kissing you.

— You better send me a copy of that. — You said, pointing at the phone.

"Right, you were recording, big boy" The voice in Yunho's head came back, making him almost laugh. — You'll get as many copies as you want, as long as you promise we'll watch it together.

And his request made you realize. Were you going to continue with this? He wasn't your patient anymore, so your only excuse to see him was gone. But said this comment gave you a little hope, that meant he wanted to keep seeing you, outside of your office at least. But, was that what you wanted?

{-----}

A/N2: soooo this is it 😭 thank you so much for reading, every single one of you have a special place in my heart 💙 I'm working on other fics but like I previously said I won't post them back to back and maybe it will take a while for me to post the next one so yeah you still can send asks if you want to vent or just to say hi you'll make me soooo happy with that

I love you hope y'all doing great

— moon

Alsoooo, did you like the new blog theme 👀

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 17

[see all chapters]

read on: [ao3] [ffn]

Summary: After being accidentally revealed to the public and taken away by the government, Danny deals with the aftermath of his time with the GiW.

---

“He did really well today,” his physical therapist told Maddie. “We’re making great progress.”

Maddie beamed down at him. “That’s wonderful, sweetie.”

“Keep exercising and stretching at home—especially those stairs—and I think we’ll be able to start incorporating the crutches into our sessions next week.”

Danny’s ears perked up. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” the physical therapist said. “It’s really incredible how strong your healing factor is. Your spasticity is decreasing, your foot drop tendencies are decreasing, and it really seems like your body is also healing the nerves on its own. In the last month alone, you’ve progressed at an astronomical rate, which is unusual given the timeline for your injury. Normally, after a few months, we see progress begin to slow, but in your case, it almost seems like it’s speeding up. Once we can get your balance a little bit better, we’ll have more options for your mobility at home aside from just the walker and wheelchair.”

Maddie smoothed the hair on Danny’s head. “Ectoplasm typically acts as a poison to a human. But with the way Danny’s biology is, he managed to land in an extremely rare and specific circumstance where his ectoplasm and white blood cells can get along. So when an injury happens to the body, the ectoplasm acts as an aid to heal it.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing. I don’t know many people who could bounce back from an injury like this, kid. You should be really proud of yourself.”

Danny let out a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

“Alright, skedaddle.” The therapist waved toward the clock mounted on the wall. “My next patient’s waiting for me.”

“Thanks so much, we’ll see you on Thursday!” Maddie said.

Danny followed his mother out the door and fluidly transferred into the passenger seat of the car. He’d been back at school for a few weeks now, and things had fallen back into a routine. School, then he went either home, to PT, or therapy, and he had his IOP meeting, and then he was home for the evening. His days were busy, but they were structured.

And the structure was good. He could handle that.

IOP turned out to be just a shorter version of PHP. It lasted just a few hours, and the topics mainly focused on practicing coping strategies at home. Coping strategies that Danny found he didn’t really need.

He already had coping strategies.

Nevertheless, he participated. And then each week, the therapists told his parents how fantastic he was doing, and his parents showered him with praise, and then they went home and disappeared into the lab.

They never invited Danny into the basement, and Danny never asked to join.

He knew that they were hoping he would just give up on getting the chip out. But if they were truly expert ecto-researchers, they should have known that their hopes were futile.

Because, like it or not, Danny had a core. And as a halfa, he needed access to it.

Whatever. If they wanted to live in a sea of their own denial, then Danny would let them. He had his coping strategies, he was getting better, and that’s what was important.

IOP that day was just like all the others, and when Maddie picked him up afterward, she once again told him how well he was doing before settling into their usual silence in the car ride home.

Only this time, Danny had something else on his mind. Which was the problem in his drawer.

Thankfully, he had found another bottle of painkillers in his parents’ medicine cabinet. But that didn’t change the fact that he was now down to his last bottle. Once this ran out, he would have nothing left. 

And based on how much his parents were ignoring the elephant in the room, Danny was going to need extra assistance.

“Mom,” Danny kept his eyes on his lap. “My uh—you know, my chest…”

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Maddie’s hands tighten their grip on the steering wheel. And he didn’t blame her. His chest wasn’t exactly a topic either of them had brought up outside of therapy before.

And even in therapy, he hadn’t gone that far in detail about what really happened. Granted, he didn’t remember much, but that didn’t mean that the parts he was conscious for hadn’t tattooed themselves into his brain.

He powered on. “It’s—well, uh, it’s…it’s not really good.”

“What do you mean by that, hun?” Maddie asked. “Has it been hurting a lot?”

“Yeah.” He pressed his hand to his shirt. “Especially now that—now that I’m walking more. My back and legs too. It’s really—really affecting everything.”

That part wasn’t even a lie. Now that those muscles were getting more use, most of his time off the heavy painkillers was spent in a constant stream of burning pain.

“Have you told this to the physical therapist?”

“Yeah, but—and she gave me stretches. But they’re not—they—they’re not really working. I don’t know, can’t the doctors just give me something?”

Maddie sighed. “I can take you back to your doctor, but hun, I don’t know how much more pain management they can give you. Your dosages are already very high.”

“Can we just try? Please?” Danny tried to not let the desperation leak into his voice.

“Yeah, we can try. But don’t get your hopes up,” Maddie said. “Unfortunately, despite your physiology, there are still laws that the doctors have to follow. Even if your body can handle higher doses, they may not be able to prescribe it. I’m sorry, it’s just one of the things you’re going to have to deal with.”

Danny folded his arms and glared out the window.

“Sorry, hun. We can see about switching you to something else, but I don’t know how much better it’ll be.”

“It’s just unfair.”

“I know. But there’s not much we can really do about it.”

“So—so what, I’m just ex—expected to be in pain for the—for the rest of my life?”

Maddie pursed her lips. “It won’t be forever. Your nerves will heal eventually; it’s one of the perks of having ectoplasm in your system. It’s just going to take a little while.”

“Wonderful.” Danny rolled his eyes. “Well, can I at—can I at least talk to him first?”

“Sure.”

That wasn’t necessarily an optimistic view. If he couldn’t get more painkillers from his doctor, he would have to find another way to get them.

In an ideal world, he would just break into a drugstore as Phantom invisible and steal a prescription. But there were a few issues with that. First off, he didn’t even have access to Phantom. Second, stealing from a drugstore would mean taking medication away from someone it was actually prescribed for, which would cause the victim more pain. This went against the very nature of his Obsession, so that too was off the table.

The other option would be to find a local drug dealer and get something from him. The problem was, he was Danny Phantom. He was recognizable anywhere. If he started asking around for information, people would notice. Not to mention, ask the wrong person and they’d instantly report him to the police to be arrested again.

And thus, that solution was an instant failure as well.

Danny slumped in his seat. Well, it wasn’t like he really needed the painkillers anymore. He was doing fine on his own. He could probably just wean himself off at the end of this bottle and he would be fine.

But wasn’t it only thanks to these extra painkillers that you’re doing well now? A little voice in his head whispered. If you stop taking them, won’t the façade be ruined? 

No, he insisted. There was no façade, he was better now.

Then that settled it. If he couldn’t get more from his doctor, then he would wean himself off of the painkillers. And then he would be back to normal.

---

The door flew open with such speed that Danny wondered how its hinges didn’t fall onto the concrete.

“Danny!” Tucker yelled, jumping down the front steps. “Hey, glad you could make it!”

“Um…” Danny raised a gift bag from his lap. “My—uh, my mom told me—told me to bring this for your mom. As a thank-you.”

Maddie hadn’t explained it in so many words, but Danny could only assume that Angela Foley, a longtime friend of Maddie, had taken to baking more than a few casseroles during Danny’s trial. Hence, the bottle of Chardonnay in the shiny green bag.

“Oh, dope!” Tucker stopped in front of Danny and held out his hand. “Here, I got it. Let’s get inside. Oh, hang on, one sec. Where’s Sam?”

As if on cue, a black bob popped out from the open doorway. Out came Sam, a wide smile adorning her face. 

“Hey, Danny! You made it!” she exclaimed, skipping down the porch. 

“Course.” Danny felt the last of his nerves wash away, and he offered his giddy friends a small smile in return. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“My mom’s so excited,” Tucker said, passing off the gift bag to Sam. “You better be hungry, she cooked enough food to feed a family of twelve.”

Danny snorted, standing up and taking his first steps forward on the uneven driveway. While the Foley residence was far more “homey” than the Fentons’, it wasn’t exactly wheelchair friendly. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, as far as his physical therapist was concerned. She kept telling him he needed to get more practice using his walker in public anyway. While Tucker’s house wasn’t necessarily public, it was a good first step.

“Good thing that chair was out, huh?” Tucker said, nodding towards the metal folding chair that Danny had been occupying. One that Danny was sure was just pure coincidence that it happened to be hanging around outside next to Tucker’s driveway, despite it living exclusively in their basement before.

“Sure,” Danny said. “Crazy that it ended up there. Good thing I found it.”

“You’re a true hero in my heart.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The drop-off had been a point of contention between Danny and Maddie that day. She had spent the majority of the day insisting that she was going to help him inside. But since Danny couldn’t think of anything more humiliating than being helped inside Tucker’s residence in front of all of his neighbors by his mother, they compromised on this plan instead. 

That way, Danny could have some semblance of dignity. 

“Alright, just a couple steps.” 

Danny grabbed onto Tucker’s arm with one hand and maneuvered his walker sideways with the other.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

“All good,” Danny said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too breathy. Stairs were somewhat of a new addition to his exercise plan. 

“Okay, just keep holding onto me. Sorry, we haven’t replaced our railing yet after Uncle Frankie fell through it.”

Danny nodded absentmindedly, focusing on making sure the walker wasn’t about to slip out from under him. But after a torturous minute, they managed to reach Tucker’s porch. 

He paused at the top, leaning onto his walker for support. Like hell he was going to greet Angela for the first time after months sounding like he’d just run a marathon. Thankfully, Sam and Tucker didn’t say anything. And if they were giving him pitying looks, well, Danny was too busy studying the ground to notice.

“Sorry, I’m good,” Danny said after a moment. 

“You want me to get a chair?” Sam asked.

“No, no. I’ll be—I’m fine. Just…” Danny took a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay, I’m good now.”

After ascending the creaking porch steps, taking that final step into their house was a piece of cake.

And what a delightful cake it was.

Instantly, Danny was hit with the aroma of home-cooked food wafting from the kitchen. The living room was warm against the December air drafting from the open door, and the home was decorated in deep, earthy colors that reminded Danny of a log cabin in the woods.

“Mom! Danny’s here!” Tucker shouted, kicking off his shoes.

Danny could hear a pan slam down on the counter before footsteps hurried around the kitchen arch.

“Danny!” Angela hurried over, dusting her hands off on her purple dress. Her dark eyes shone in the lamplight, and she surveyed him once before gently wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into her warm embrace.

“Hi, Mrs. Foley.” Danny felt his voice crack, and he blinked away the mist that threatened to form in his eyes. He melted into her shoulder, wrapping his own arms around her.

He had been so preoccupied in the last few months, that he had almost forgotten how good an Angela hug was.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you. So wonderful.” Angela pulled back and took stock of him again. “Look at you, standing tall and everything. Oh, you’ve grown so much.”

He ducked his head, hiding the blush that he was sure was forming on his cheeks. “I don’t know about that.”

“Nonsense! You’re definitely taller than when I last saw you.” She cupped her hand on his cheek, bringing his eyes back to hers. “You’re so grown now. Definitely not a little kid anymore, huh? Oh, sweetheart, I’m just so glad to see you.”

“You too.”

“And Danny, I am just so proud of you, you know that? So proud. You’re such a wonderful boy and I’m so thankful that you’re home now.”

Something slimy wormed in his stomach. Something that felt fake, like guilt.

He shook that feeling away.

She stepped back to wag a finger at him. “And don’t you ever scare us like that again, young man. You hear me?”

“Lay off, Mom,” Tucker said from behind him. “It wasn’t his fault the government got handsy.”

“Tucker Norris Foley!” Angela dropped her hand from Danny’s face and glared past him. “Watch your mouth!”

“Yeah, Tuck.” Danny could feel Sam’s facepalm.

“It’s fine,” Danny reassured.

Seeming to remember that Danny was standing in front of her, Angela melted into a smile again. She patted his shoulder with a “good boy” and turned back to the kitchen. 

“I hope you kids are hungry,” she said, beckoning them forward. “I have the chicken in the oven with mashed potatoes and beans on the stove. Maurice called a few minutes ago, his meeting ran late but he should be home any minute now.”

“Thank you.” Danny carefully lowered himself onto the couch and bent down to take off his shoes.

“Oh, sweetie,” Mrs. Foley’s concerned voice called out. “Is it easier if you keep your shoes on? You don’t need to take them off, no need.”

Tucker’s face morphed into one of complete shock and awe as if he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing from his mother.

Warmth pooled in Danny. But naturally, he tried to downplay it. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to—I walk without shoes in my home.”

If anything, that just made Angela even more concerned. “Well, whatever is easier for you!”

Danny quickly slipped his sneakers off and set them to the side. “Thank you.”

“Well, come on in! Tucker, don’t be rude, get your friend a drink.”

Danny tried not to act too sheepish as he awkwardly pulled himself up from the low, squishy couch, well aware that Mrs. Foley was studying his every move.

Thankfully, Sam came to the rescue. “Mrs. Foley? This is from Mrs. Fenton.”

Angela plucked the bag from Sam’s grasp and read the little note attached to the strings. “Oh, she didn’t have to do this! Danny, your mother is so sweet.”

“You know her,” Danny said, gesturing to the air as if that explained everything.

“Still, tell her I said thank you.”

“You want a soda or water?” Tucker called from the kitchen.

“Water’s fine.”

Sam pressed a hand on his back and peered over at him, her expression back to that strangely shy visage she’d been wearing ever since he’d gotten back from inpatient. “Let’s grab seats in the kitchen.”

They followed Tucker into the kitchen, and Danny slumped down into a chair that Sam had pulled out for him, feeling more than a bit useless as the others bustled around him, setting plates and silverware down on the table.

“Anything I can do to help?” Danny offered, knowing that there was, in fact, nothing he could help with.

As expected, Angela waved him off. “No! You just get comfortable. We’re nearly done here.”

“Okay.”

“So how have you been? You’ve been healing well?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s going well. I’ve been doing—going to PT. Um, for my spine and everything.”

“That’s wonderful, Danny. They’ve been good to you?”

“Yeah, they have a lot of stuff there. You know, to wake my muscles up. Some of it—it is really cool.”

And he meant it. Despite his wishes to avoid any celebrity treatment, he wasn’t blind to the fact that the newest rehabilitation center he’d been attending was paying special attention to him. There wasn’t just one physical therapist assisting him during sessions—there were three. All of them specialized in treating spinal cord injuries, and he’d been told the physical therapist leading his sessions was one of the best in the country. He had access to all the equipment and modern technology that he could dream of, and he knew that if there was anything he ever needed, it would be ridiculously easy to get ahold of it.

Part of him did feel more than a little guilty. If he were just Danny Fenton, and not Phantom, he wouldn’t have half the support he did now. And he could see it online, the jealousy from other SCI patients as they caught glimpses through photos and videos of his progress. 

He’d seen the comments.

Damn, imagine how much that all costs.

Wish I could afford that treatment.

And he felt them all. He knew how lucky he was, and he was aware that he had taken it for granted before. He knew the weeks he’d spent moping about his disability and rejecting help were a slap in the face to everyone out there begging for even a sliver of the tools he had now.

But he had grown, he was stronger, and he was determined. Now that he was ready to work hard, he might as well take advantage of all the tools available to him.

Angela’s voice cut through his thoughts. “And how’s school going? You been catching up alright?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been fine. School, you know.”

“The other kids aren’t giving you any trouble, are they?”

Tucker shot his mom a look of pure embarrassment and let out a low, “Mom!”

Out of politeness, Danny pretended not to notice the interaction. “No, it’s been fine.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” Angela set a casserole dish full of mashed potatoes on the table. 

Just then, a rumbling sounded from the garage.

“Oh good, Maurice is home. Just in time,” Angela said, leaving the kitchen to greet her husband.

Danny sipped from his water glass, glad to have a break from the questions. Talking so casually about his situation still felt odd. The last time he’d seen Angela was at their Fourth of July barbeque, and they’d spoken about his plans for the summer and going to the gaming convention with Tucker.

It felt like so long ago, and at the same time, it felt like he’d just seen her yesterday. He wished he could go back to that barbeque and that they all could have just had the fun, lazy summer they had been planning.

“Refill?” Tucker asked.

To Danny’s surprise, he realized that his water glass was empty. “Sure, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Sam slipped into the seat next to him, giving him that silent look that asked “you okay?” 

Danny quirked his lips into a small smile and offered a subtle nod.

“Well, well, well!” Maurice’s jovial voice entered the kitchen. “If it isn’t Danny Phantom himself! How you doing, kid?”

Instead of feeling taken aback by Maurice’s forthcoming words, Danny felt his stomach unknot as gratitude washed over him. He never said it out loud, but he had been stressing over this dinner all week. For two years, he had been Phantom. And for two years, he had been inadvertently putting their son in danger just by association. 

He expected them to be angry and disgusted with him. He expected them to want nothing to do with him, to curse him out and shame him for daring to associate with their son. 

But he should have known better.

Maurice and Angela weren’t like those people online, the woman who yelled at him in the PHP lobby, or the Mansons who had made it explicitly clear that they wanted nothing to do with him anymore. They weren’t the type of people to cut someone out of their lives for being a little different.

Hell, they raised Tucker. Even though they were both self-proclaimed “technologically illiterate,” they still did their best to engage in their son’s hobby with him. It was silly to think that they might shut Danny out because he was Phantom.

Danny stood, using the table for support with one hand and the other to reach out and offer a handshake.

Maurice’s bushy mustache rose into a genuine smile, and he clasped Danny’s hand with his own. “Wow, look at you! You bounced back quickly, eh?”

Danny motioned over to the walker that Sam had put against the wall. “Not totally, but—but we’re getting there.”

Maurice waved him off and dropped his work bag against the wall. “That’s alright, kid. Just keep working hard!”

Grinning, Danny sat back down. “Thanks.”

Tucker and Angela settled into their seats, and Maurice grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet. The comfortable routine and open ease of the Foleys were not lost on Danny. He wished his family’s dinners were like this. Well, for his parents and Jazz they certainly were, but not for him. 

But the Foleys weren’t ones for stewing in silence.

“So, Phantom, huh?” Maurice said, casually pouring wine into the glasses. 

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“The whole time?”

Tucker facepalmed. “Dad.”

“What? I’m only asking!”

“It’s fine, Tuck.” Danny chuckled. Weirdly enough, Tucker’s dad seemed like the most reasonably curious person Danny had talked to since his identity was blown. “Yeah. It’s been—been me the whole time.”

“Huh, how ‘bout that,” Maurice mused, setting one of the glasses down in front of Angela, who accepted it readily.

“Well,” Maurice continued. “I guess this is a bit late, but I should thank you for saving my life when that box guy showed up in our office that day. What was his name again?”

Danny racked his brain for the memory of this. “The Box Ghost?”

“Yeah, that’s the guy!”

“Dad, I don’t know if Danny capturing the Box Ghost is exactly saving your life, but okay.”

Sam snorted, covering her face with her hand.

But Maurice took the jabs in stride, wearing his own grin to match. “Well, maybe not in the literal sense, but he certainly saved me from having to spend hours redoing all that filing! Old Boxy was about to make a mess out of our archive papers! Thanks to Danny, there were only a few boxes that got messed up instead of the entire shelving unit.”

“Well, I’m glad to have been of service.”

“Okay, food’s ready, everyone! Let’s eat. Oh, Sam, I accidentally left your tofu next to the stove—”

“I got it, Mrs. Foley! Thank you!”

Following Tucker’s lead, Danny plopped some food onto his plate and dug in. As brilliant as his own parents were, the culinary skill didn’t exactly run in the Fenton family genes, and he could only take so many reanimated chicken legs jumping off his plate before he started seeking food elsewhere. Namely, the Foley household.

Angela and Maurice had never shooed him away, and they never made him feel unwelcome in their home. And over the years, Danny had become such a staple in their lives that they often jokingly introduced him as their pseudo-adopted son to their friends and guests.

It was amazing how some things didn’t change.

Even after everything, the nightly routine didn’t falter. Tucker still rambled to his father about some new technological breakthrough, Sam and Angela still talked about their backyard vegetable gardens, and Danny was still the quiet observer, occasionally chiming into whichever conversation grabbed his attention.

It was as if he’d never left.

“So Danny, do you think you’ll be back out there soon?” Maurice asked, turning the conversation back to him once more.

Tucker gave him a sideways glance, one that Danny couldn’t decipher, but otherwise didn’t say anything.

“Soon, hopefully. At—at the rate that I’m…progressing. Hopefully,” Danny said.

“You taken your ghost side for a spin yet at least?”

“No.” Danny poked at his mashed potatoes, careful to not let his face show his annoyance. “We’re being…cautious.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Angela said. “You don’t want to do anything too dangerous while your body is still healing.”

Danny wanted to explain how his ectoplasm was actually beneficial to his human side, but he bit his tongue. 

“Well, whenever you get the pass from your doctors, we’ll be there for you!” Sam said.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Tucker agreed.

“You’ll have a lot less to do now with all those new companies anyway,” Angela said.

Danny glanced over at her. “Huh?” 

“You know,” she continued, waving her fork. “All the new popups in the city. Ghost control is becoming much more popular now. There’s even a license that the government developed for people wanting certification for their businesses.”

“Ghost control?”

“It’s a lot nicer sounding than ‘ghost hunting,’” Sam quipped. “But it’s basically the same thing.”

Something ugly curled in Danny’s stomach.

New ghost hunting businesses? In Amity Park?

How had he not heard of this?

Was this yet another thing his parents were keeping from him? Sam and Tucker too? Why had no one told him that other hunters were trying to take over his turf?

“Don’t worry ‘bout ‘em,” Tucker said through a mouthful of food. He swallowed at the glare of his mother and offered Danny a cheesy thumbs-up. “They’re all idiots. Not nearly as good as you.”

“Still, a bit of a break never hurt anyone,” Angela said. “Especially with all the college entrance testing and applications coming up soon!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Tucker made a show of fake gagging, to which Angela rolled her eyes.

“My parents are still hopeful I’ll become a lawyer,” Sam said.

“In their defense, you would be pretty good at it.”

“Oh, shove off, Tuck.”

“What do you want to do, Sam? Have you thought about it at all?” Angela asked.

Sam cocked her head, resting her hand under her chin. “I dunno, something with the environment. Somebody needs to do something about climate change if the government won’t.”

“Very fitting for you, dear! And what about you, Danny? I know you’re rather busy right now, but have you given any thought to it lately?”

Before he could answer, Maurice snapped his fingers. “Didn’t you want to work for NASA? I bet they’d love to have a half-ghost on board their rockets!”

Danny blinked, once again shaking off the shock of how easily the Foley family adapted to the concept of Danny being not all human.

“I—uh—yeah…” Danny sputtered. “I mean, that’s still the goal. I just don’t know…with my physiology…”

“Bah!” Maurice waved him off. “What’s there not to know? They’d be lucky to have you, kid.”

Warmth crept along Danny’s skin, and he felt a genuine smile flicker on his lips. “Thanks.”

“Whatever, while you losers worry about your careers, I’ll be making bank from my computer programmer salary!”

“You have to get into college first, Tucker,” Angela said.

“Have you no faith in me, mother?”

Angela took a bite of her food, chewing slowly as her eyes glinted in an unsaid comment.

Tucker blanched. “Okay, okay, I hear ya loud and clear. I solemnly swear that I will study for my next math test. Happy?”

“Very.” 

Danny snickered, covering his mouth as he did so. He caught Sam’s eye, who grinned in return.

Damn, he really had missed simple nights like these. Ones where he didn’t have to worry about the Guys in White, PT, his parents, school, or anything else interfering with his life. He could just sit here and have a normal night of banter with his friends and the Foleys. 

“There’s plenty more food if you want it, dear,” Angela said. “Don’t be shy!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Foley.”

Yeah, this was nice. Maybe he should do this more often.

---

“We have to think of a plan,” Danny said.

“Oh?” Sam tilted her head. “What plan?”

“To get in contact with Frostbite so he can remove my chip.”

“Chip?” Tucker asked.

“Yeah, the one in my neck that’s blocking off my powers.”

Sam gave him an odd look. “Why don’t you just ask your parents to remove it?”

Danny huffed and flopped back on Tucker’s red and gray rug, staring up at the textured ceiling. The painkiller had worn off and his chest was starting to burn, but the mild stretch he got from lying down felt nice. “Because they won’t remove it. I already—I already asked them. Multiple times. They won’t…won’t do it.”

“Did they say why?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” Danny made a face. “Said that I wasn’t ready. Or something, I don’t know. They’re scared of Phantom, I think. Just like—just like before.”

“That can’t be right,” Sam said. “Danny, they were stuck in their ways before, but it seems like they’ve really come around.”

“They won’t take the chip out, though. That doesn’t really sound like coming around to me,” Danny said bitterly.

“Well, it sounds like they just don’t think you’re ready for Phantom. I’m sure they’re collaborating with your doctors—”

“What do you mean, ready?” 

Sam looked thoroughly uncomfortable. “You know, I mean your physical health. You’re still in PT, and—”

“Why are you defending them?” 

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance.

“What?” Danny asked, annoyed.

Tucker diverted his gaze, and Sam just sighed. 

“Danny…” she started.

Danny really didn’t like that tone she was using.

“You haven’t been home for that long. You’re still healing.”

“And?”

“Well…”

Danny sat up, deciding he didn’t want to hear whatever excuse she was trying to dance around her feelings with. “What about you, Tuck? Why—why so quiet? You can’t agree with them.”

Tucker pointedly refused to make eye contact.

“Come on.” Danny heard the tension in his voice. “You’re my—my best friend. You can’t…you’re gonna help me, right?”

Tucker’s eyes flickered up to the ceiling. Finally, he breathed out, though that didn’t help his tone sound any less stiff. “Danny, don’t you think it’s a little soon?”

“Soon? It’s fucking December.”

“I know, but—”

“The Guys in White had me in July.” 

“Right, I get that, but I mean…I don’t know, you know what I’m saying, dude, right?”

No. Danny did not know what he was saying. And he couldn’t hold back the mix of disbelief and anger in his voice when he responded with, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sam opened her mouth, arms poised to backtrack, but Danny wasn’t having it. “You both—you guys both—you’re siding with them?”

“Now, hang on, Danny—”

“You both know me! You—you guys used to encourage me to embrace my ghost half! But now…but now you’re side—siding with my fucking parents?”

“Danny, just listen to us,” Sam said. “We’re not siding with them. I personally think it’s wrong to keep Phantom from you, and I know Tucker feels the same.”

“So then what’s the issue?”

“What we’re trying to say is that we don’t think, with everything going on, that it’s a good idea for you to go behind their back on this one so soon. You nearly died, Danny. It’s way more complicated than it used to be.”

Danny felt his eyes flare. He may still have had some trouble processing speech, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew backtracking when he saw it.

“Phantom is me. I don’t—I don’t care that he makes my parents uncomfortable. I can’t just…bury him because it’s hard for them. I thought you guys understood that.”

“We do understand!” Sam insisted.

“No, you obviously don’t.”

“But if you are having conflict,” Sam continued as if Danny hadn’t refuted her. “Then you need to bring it up at therapy! That’s what it’s there for!”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh sardonically. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from—from you, the one who has such healthy communication standards at—at home!”

“Come on, guys.” Tucker looked pained. “Don’t do this.”

“What’s your goddamn problem, Danny?”

“My problem is all of you! You’re all keeping things from me—”

“Keeping things? Us? Danny, we’ve been on your side this entire time!”

“My parents with the—the court case. And—and the freaking core, how nobody wants me…apparently, nobody wants me to have—to have my core! And now you two with the whole ghost control business thing!”

“What?” Tucker asked. “Us with the what?”

“You know, the government ghost control!”

“You mean those popup businesses?” 

“Yes, those fucking things!”

“Because we didn’t think that mattered, Danny!” Sam said in an exasperated tone. “It’s not like it’s the first time some stupid untrained ghost hunters have moved into this town. You had more important things to worry about—”

Danny knew that by now his eyes were fully glowing. “That’s just it! That’s the fucking problem!” 

“What?”

“This all is!” The itch to stand up and pace around the room had never been so strong. “You—you all are! Everyone’s deciding for me and keep—keeping the truth from me because you think I can’t handle it!”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true! You’re all cutting me out—”

Sam guffawed. “Us cutting you out? Oh, that’s rich.”

“Guys, stop.”

“No, please continue. I would love to hear the truth for once!” Danny spat out.

“Oh, you want the truth?” Sam said, finally rearing her glare at Danny. “You want the truth but apparently you couldn’t even be bothered to come to us when you hit rock bottom! Do you even know what that was like? To find out that your best friend tried to kill himself at school from Dash of all people?”

“Sam!” Tucker hissed.

Danny saw red, and then his vision was blanketed in green.

How dare she bring that up when he had worked so hard to forget about it.

“Dash spent years tormenting us!” Sam continued. “And yet he and the rest of his fucking friends had to be the ones to tell us what happened! Even beyond just that, we don’t know anything about the Guys in White that’s not secondhand information because you won’t tell us!”

“Jeez, I’m so fucking sorry that I had a psychotic break with Dash and not you. Next time I’ll be sure to plan it around your fucking—”

“That’s not the point, Danny! The point is that you don’t trust us. We’re your best friends and we care about you and want to be there for you but that’s impossible when you shut us off but let people like Dash in!”

“Well, I’ll let Dash know he can join the fucking club, then! Along with Vlad and the Guys in White and all—all of my other fucking enemies who now know more about me than anyone I actually give a shit about!”

“If you would just talk to us—”

“Vlad? What’s Vlad got to do with this?” Tucker cut in, his brow furrowed. When he looked up at Danny, his eyes were piercing. “What did Vlad do?”

“Nothing! I don’t know!” Danny yelled, throwing his hands up. “He’s Vlad, what do you expect?”

“Danny, does Vlad know something? About what happened? Like, with the government?”

Danny’s mouth snapped shut, and he was sure his glare was bright enough to cook an egg. 

“You’re kidding.” Sam laughed, her voice full of tired vitriol. She dragged her hand over her eyes. “You’re fucking kidding me. You don’t trust us, but Vlad knows everything. That’s fantastic, Danny, what a great support system you have.”

“Shut up. You don’t know what happened.”

“But Vlad does?” Sam crossed her arms defensively. “Since he knows so much, why bother coming to us about the chip at all? Why not ask him for advice?”

“Oh yeah, because I obviously wanted him to find out everything! Are you really that stupid?”

“Guys, calm down—”

“Then fucking talk to us! We weren’t there, we don’t know what the hell happened!”

“Exactly! You weren’t the one who spent weeks dying in—dying in a fucking cell surrounded by your own blood and piss!” Danny yelled.

The room was deathly silent.

“You weren’t there. You have no idea—no idea what it was…you have no idea.” 

Sam looked stricken. She knelt down on the floor and lightly clasped Danny’s hand between her own. “Danny, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Danny tugged his hand out from her grip. She didn’t fight it.

“Just forget it,” he said. Exhaustion washed over him, and he debated asking to leave.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam. “I’m just frustrated, and I feel useless.”

Danny knew a way she could feel less useless, but he bit his tongue.

Sam sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“Danny, I think what Sam is trying to say is that we miss you a lot. And we really want to be there for you. You’re our best friend, you know? Sometimes it feels like you’re closing off and…we’re not trying to pressure you, but we just can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Well, that was too bad for them because Danny was never going to tell the full story.

Never.

He just wanted a normal life, he just wanted his friends back. The friends who didn’t treat him like a delicate flower, friends who didn’t give him pitying looks every time they saw him. Why would he risk giving that up over clueing them into the hell he’d gone through?

Especially since he already had a support system to deal with it. He had done the trauma processing in therapy, he had retold the story of the vivisection, the story of his spine injury, the story of being starved, beaten, electrocuted. 

Sure, he wasn’t perfect, maybe he’d left a few things out along the way, but he was already dealing with this. Why involve more people? Why make this more difficult than it had to be?

Sam and Tucker would never look at him the same way again. Not if they knew what was in the red bag, not if he explained what Operative O’s little pet name for him really meant. Not if he told them about why the nerves in his chest were so damaged, not if he admitted to them that it wasn’t a surgery the Guys in White had done to get his core, that it was a vivisection, that he had been conscious for parts of it, that they hadn’t given him pain medication or anesthesia before they started.

He couldn’t…he couldn’t…

He blinked, his brain snapping back to reality.

“I know…” he said slowly, mulling over how best to make them drop the topic. “I know I’m being…secretive. But I’m just not ready. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, dude. We understand, don’t we, Sam?”

Sam nodded, her head held low, bangs covering her eyes.

“When you are ready, though, we’ll be here.”

“Thanks.” The words tasted sour on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered.

“It’s fine.”

Though, it really wasn’t. Because now he knew that Sam and Tucker weren’t going to help him. And without their help, getting in touch with Frostbite was essentially futile.

Without Frostbite, he couldn’t get the chip out. He would be stuck like this, a ghost blocked from its own core, completely trapped and at the mercy of his ghost-hunter parents who didn’t seem at all worried about what that was doing to him.

Sam and Tucker may not have agreed with his parents, but his friends’ actions aligned with theirs too. Like his parents, they didn’t trust him. And because of this, he couldn’t trust them in return.

But it was fine. He could handle this on his own. He didn’t need to panic. 

Not yet.

---

Sam, 12/06, 7:55am: Hey Danny. I feel really awful for what happened last night at Tucker’s, and I just wanted to apologize. It was never my intention to pressure you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with. You’re my best friend, and I just know that there’s a lot you’re still holding inside. Even if you never feel okay to tell us what happened, I hope that you’ll be able to confide in someone. In the meantime, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, no matter the time of day, I’m here.

Sam, 12/06, 7:57am: I’m serious though, we have your back. Nothing will ever change that.

Read, 7:57am

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<previous / next>

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As always, thanks to @imekitty for reading! If you like this, she just released Disillusioned, the 3rd installment of the Disparaged series, and it is amazing so far so go check it out!

[some-dr-writings]

Shuichi, Kokichi and Nagito’s crush likes napping on his lap during breaks

Shuichi Saihara:

·       Ah yes, the Super High School Level Astronomer, it was no wonder Kaito would be friends with such a person, and whoever Kaito was friends with, all his other friends would be friends with them as well, that was how Shuichi had met you. Often in those nightly training sessions, for a break Kaito, Shuichi, Maki and whoever else felt like joining them that evening would jog around till finding you, telescope by your side. You’d speak of the stars, of legends that surrounded them, of how travelers of old navigated the world through them, how stars were born, what there different colors meant, and so much more. Folklore, history, science, didn’t matter, you knew and continued to learn about each and any possible aspect you could about those specks of light. However, you were rather quiet outside of those moments, though you weren’t closed off. It was more so, if you weren’t speaking of stars you’d just so intently listen to others.

·       … Maybe that’s how or why it happened? More often than not, when at school you were rather drowsy. You were often out, camping in the mountains away from the harsh city lights so when you were at school it was nice. When you were around, Shuichi made sure to spend time with you. You were able to speak so much without words, it was fun trying to interpret your expressions. Truthfully Shuichi didn’t think much of it at first, it was just how you were, quiet, yet outgoing, bubbly even. Others however had a more difficult time understanding you, somehow they didn’t notice the many little nuances that made up you, your slightest shift of expression or tilt of the head, your body language, how you spoke more so with your eyes, engaging in the conversations in your own way. How others couldn’t Shuichi had no idea at first, you were captivating, how could they NOT notice!?

·       At first he had thought it was simply him being a detective, often having to interpret and read people through his work with his Uncle, but… that was not quite it, there was more to this. I didn’t come naturally, he WANTED to understand you. He found himself drawn to you, your gravity too powerful for him to even consider resisting. And it seemed the same could be said for you too. Whenever break rolled around, no matter how short it may be, you’d always seek him out. Due to more often than not being awake through the night you’d nap, but Shuichi didn’t mind, not even when you used his shoulder or lap as a pillow. He’d read his novels aloud to you, or if he was working through a case, walk through his logic aloud, he’d just speak even if you were asleep, something in him just knew you were still taking this all in.

·       Even if he was somehow one of the few people who understood you, he wondered how you had even seen him yet. You were like a supernova in his eyes, so bright, so stunning, so colorful, leaving only beauty and wonder in your wake, how did you notice him? By chance did your heart race too at the thought of spending more time together? Did you also find a soft, comforting, warmth in his presence as he did you? Did you adore hearing him speak just as he did you? Whatever the case may be for you, he sure hopped it was something similar because he simply wished to your beloved stars above that you felt even half as amazing as he did with you, he just wanted you to know of such a fantastic emotion, it, no… you were astonishing and he simply wished to share and indulge in it with you.

   Kokichi Oma:

·       “Y/N!” “Hu-AH” You groaned, shakily pushing yourself off the ground. Then you noticed all your items had slipped out of your bookbag. You sighed, seeing all your papers had fallen out of your folders as well. “Geez, Y/N, I didn’t know you were so clumsy!” “Ah, just tired today I guess.” You noticed how Kokichi kept taking glances to you as he helped gather your items. Not surprising considering you literally just tumbled down a flight of stairs. Before you knew it all your supplied had already been collected and placed back in your bag. That was really quick. You winced as you stood up. Your knees almost collapsed under you and Kokichi was in the position to catch you should you have fallen but thankfully you were able to do so yourself. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” “Oh, uh… umm.” You thought and thought but couldn’t remember. It was so hard, you felt like your mind was swimming and swirling, all thoughts fuzzy and difficult to reach.

·       Then suddenly you were being dragged along by the hand. “What the-” “You are coming with me! This’ll be fun! Especially if you have nothing better to do!” You were completely confused but more so shocked from the whole situation so you couldn’t really bring yourself to try to stop or ask where you were even going.

·       Koichi just kept running around, getting you completely lost. Eventually though he let go, dashing a few paces forward before tumbling and falling. “O-Oma!?” He simply laughed, sitting up. He hummed as the wind rolled past swaying his hair as he looked up to the sky. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Look at that!” You were confused looking up to the sky where he was pointing. “Ugh, you can’t see it from there, sit down already!” Taking your arm, he playfully tugged on it, but even that was enough to send you falling. Even with you sprawled across his lap, he managed to scooch over enough so just your head was there. “Perfect! Now, that cloud looks like Gonta; giant, kinda dumb, soft. And that one-” You were… quite puzzled. Clouds? Of all things? That was what he wanted to show you? You heard Kokichi speaking, but it was all noise to you, it held no meaning. You just listened as he droned on and pointed, the shadow of his outstretched arm conveniently covering your eyes.

·       You never really noticed how nice and soft Kokichi’s voice could be. Then again, he was always so loud or quiet, constantly shifting tone you never got the chance to just hear it… It was… rather pleasant. You wanted to hear him longer, engage in whatever game he was playing but so quickly your eyes drooped and all our senses simply lulled to nothing.

·       Then it was evening. At first the sight of those orange and purple hues confused you, but then- “Y/N, you’re alive! It’s been twenty years and Miu’s army of robots have taken over! We need you to join the resistance!” He couldn’t help but laugh at your absolutely baffled expression. “But that’s a lie.” “… oh yeah… Wait…” You suddenly completely awakened, abruptly sitting up. “It’s evening already!? Did we skip class!?” “It’s whateves, Y/N. Hope’s Peak doesn’t care if we skip class.” “No, not that!” You sighed, burrowing your face into your hands and mumbled to yourself. “I didn’t take the new meds again. Of course, I didn’t.” Huh, new medicine was it. Kokichi smirked, dragging you up onto your feet. “C’mon! You’ll make us late for dinner!”

·       The next several weeks were like that. No matter what you did you’d always end up napping on Kokichi’s lap at some point. This was much needed. Your therapist had been fired so you had to start all over with someone new, who wanted to give you new medicine meaning new side affects that could only be worked around via time management. It was a process trying to work out what amount you needed and what not. Napping with Kokichi was just about the only solace you had gotten in the chaos. When you had found a good balance of medication no longer were you exhausted in the day or losing sleep at night. It was great though, admittedly you missed it.

·       It had been about a week or so since your medication seemed to stable out and all was well with you once more. The bells for break had tolled and you left class. Break wasn’t long, but you didn’t care. Hearing shrieks and screams of terror and that ‘Nishishi” you knew you were close. Seeing Kokichi make his escape you simply went to one of the benches outside. And there you waited.

·       You still waited even after the bells signaling the end of break had tolled. “Oh? Y/N actually skipping class!? What has this world come too!? Soon the sky will be falling!” Seeing he wasn’t lying per say and just exaggerating you decided to answer. “I haven’t taken my nap yet.” You took his hand, pulling him onto the bench and you placed your head atop his lap. Though you weren’t not tired, a mid-day nap in the sun just felt so nice.

·       Thankfully for Kokichi, you were asleep so you couldn’t see his giddy smile. Though with this seemingly becoming the new norm you’d likely catch him one of these days. For now he’d just indulge in this moment with you, his crush and worry about that when it happens.

   Nagito Komaeda:

·       Though you were an Ultimate, an amazing person who could take care of themself just fine, Nagito worried about you. You slept, a lot. No matter when or where you could find a place to nap should you want too. It wasn’t all the time though, Nagito still had many conversations with you and had gotten to see your talent firsthand, an extraordinary sight! When you were awake, you’d spend much of your time with him, often over analyzing him trying to see if there was a scientific cause for the outlandish phenomena that was his luck. Not surprising since you were a scientist. At times Nagito wondered if your mind worked so hard when you were awake, trying to solve every last mystery the world had to offer, that drove you to exhaustion so quickly. That would explain how you could be so excitedly chatting away about one theory of yours or another only for you to suddenly fall over, knocked out. Thankfully it seemed Nagito’s luck would kick in moments like that so he could catch you before your face smashed into the ground.

·       Always following you around, trying to keep your drowsy tendency from getting you into danger, from just always being beside he had become your assistant of sorts. Though he would never dare to insist on it, he always sneakily became the one to carry your stuff around in the end, even if you had started your journey with them. Taking you by your shoulders he’d steer you away from bumping into other people or objects. He would take your hand, but he felt unworthy of such an honor unless you decided he could and he knew if he did a bright scarlet would erupt on his cheeks and his heart would pick up in pace, things you surely would notice with your keen eye. When you were awake, nothing could get past you, so Nagito would have to be extra careful. He couldn’t let you figure out his feelings. He simply didn’t have it in him to confess and he was garbage, surely you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but if you did somehow, it’s not like he would deny you, someone like him had no right to deny an Ultimate, or so he thought at least.

·       Although… Nagito couldn’t help his feelings seeping out, no matter how much he had tried to keep them inside. Often, he was just talking and suddenly he’d be complimenting you and about to say he loved you and he’d have to cut himself off by causing an ‘accident’ like tripping over chairs or abruptly changing his words to say something else. He was always left a flustered mess.

·       It was just another day when Nagito strolled into your lab, finding your workspace was filled with many documents, many taped to white boards with string attacked to each and every last one, some string simply linking two pages on the same board, others stretching across the room, forcing one to duck, and twist to avoid them all, one could compare it to avoiding the lights in the laser filled room in some generic spy flic. “Hmm, but how to go about testing this?” “Testing what?” “Oh, Komaeda! Perfect timing!” You strolled over to him, looking through some file, seemingly not paying attention to your surroundings yet still avoiding all that strings. “Today I’m studying human communication!” “Uh huh.” “And I wish to test something!” You looked to him with those stunningly bright eyes as you explained, completely captivating him. “The power of words. I wish to see if they are like water in a pipe. For comparison, imagine a person as the pipe and the words water. I wonder if say a person is upset, if speaking to another person was the only way to alleviate the pressure of those emotions, or if just speaking aloud, even to no one, if that’d alleviate the pressure as well, OR if something else would happen. Yes, each individual is different, but there could still be a majority! I’m thinking we’ll go about-” a yawn escaped you before you continued. “about this… by…” You took a small notebook from your pocket, quickly scribbling down notes as Nagito lead you to a couch in the corner of the room. Nagito already knew this was coming considering that ‘pipe’ comparison didn’t make much sense since pipes would still leak, even if with another pipe around.

·       He sat beside you on the couch and moments later you rested your head on his lap. You tried holding up the little book to him and when he took it your hand and arm went limp, you already fast asleep. Nagito couldn’t help but smile, seeing you already so restful. As usually he looked through your notebook, seeing what he needed to prepare in order to set up your tests. Curiously he also looked over your notes, wondering how your interest in astrology the day prior lead to this through your connective thinking. It was always fun seeing how you could draw connections between seemingly completely unrelated topics, then again that was likely how you were such a good scientist. As he continued to read, fascinated by your research he began to wonder something. Looking to you his heart melted. “I love you.” Immediately his heart raced, and he felt that heat raising to his cheeks. What if a person were to vent to another, even if they weren’t paying attention? Perhaps because he still had told you, he still would have gotten this off his chest and he’d stop almost confessing to you so often.

·       That was how Nagito had begun to whisper his affections to you as you slept. It was a thrill like no other, fearing you’d awake right as he confessed his feelings, yet also endlessly excited by the thought as well. There was more than a fair share of times where he was almost caught, but it seemed you were none the wiser to his words of love.

·       “Hmm? Komeada? What are you mumbling about?” For a moment he froze, love struck at your soft tender expression. “Ah-uh-Oh? I was speaking? I apologize if I woke you up.” You simply huffed in response… a-and you just kept looking at him? Oh boy. Did you know? Was he finally caught? What would your response be? What did you think of him? “Thank you.” “Huh?” You smiled, nuzzling into him. “having this… instantaneous version of narcolepsy… Even though I started studying, I could never figure out how to stop it, maybe that’s because I get distracted easily, I- wait, no. No tangents.” You took a deep breath trying to reorganize your thoughts. “It… can be scary, one moment being awake then suddenly asleep. Before you I’d often sleep on the train and go way past my stop and get lost. There have also been a number of near-death experiences like when I fell asleep when walking across the street. I… it’s nice, knowing you’re around. To keep me safe and keep an eye on me. And I guess waking up to hearing your voice, waking up knowing for a fact I was safe… I don’t know, it was just nice, and I want you to know, I truly do appreciate you putting up with me.”

·       How… how could you make him fall for you more and more so effortlessly? Well, if you liked hearing his voice when you woke up… maybe… maybe next time he wouldn’t stop speaking of his love for you, even as you awoke. After all, he could never deny you anything, especially not your own comfort and ease of mind.

[frogtanii]

{patient: tsukishima kei | session: 34 | begin recording}

[dr otsuaka] hello tsukishima-kun. how are you today?

[tsukishima kei] not good, obviously. that's what you're here for right?

[dr o] so it seems. now, over the phone you told my secretary that you had something specific you needed to talk about. would you like to begin speaking about that now?

[tsukishima k] uh, yeah, i guess so.

[tsukishima k] ...

[dr o] would you like me to ask you a question?

[tsukishima k] please.

[dr o] when we last spoke three weeks ago, you expressed excitement for a potential relationship with... (shuffles notes) ln-san. how has that been going?

[tsukishima k] (exhales) fuck.

[tsukishima k] i, um, fucked that up pretty badly, pardon my language otsuaka-san.

[dr o] no worries tsukishima-kun, express your frustration as you wish in my office. how did that occur?

[tsukishima k] i told her she meant nothing to me.

[dr o] did you mean that?

[tsukishima k] of course not!

[dr o] then why did you say it?

[tsukishima k] i-i'm not good enough for her.

[dr o] why do you say that?

[tsukishima k] because it's true.

[dr o] but why do you feel that is true?

[tsukishima k] i hurt people. that's all i do.

[dr o] is it?

[tsukishima k] yes, that's what i just said.

[dr o] so you agree that all you do is hurt people.

[tsukishima k] yes.

[dr o] did you see any people before coming to my office today? on the street or in your apartment building?

[tsukishima k] ...

[tsukishima k] yes?

[dr o] who did you see?

[tsukishima k] an old man was waiting for the bus by the road.

[dr o] did you push that man? into the street?

[tsukishima k] what?! no!

[dr o] did you... curse at him? call him names? trip him?

[tsukishima k] what the hell.

[dr o] so you didn't harm him at all?

[tsukishima k] no, of course not.

[dr o] why not?

[tsukishima k] why not what?

[dr o] why didn't you hurt the old man?

[tsukishima k] i don't know!

[dr o] what would you call someone who did trip that old man or who pushed him into the street?

[tsukishima k] (scoffs) a horrible person.

[dr o] so by your own definition, a horrible person would have pushed the old man into the street.

[tsukishima k] by any sane person's definition too.

[dr o] you just told me that all you do is hurt people but when given the chance, you chose not to.

[tsukishima k] well-

[dr o] and continuing with your own words, only a horrible person would have hurt that man and you did not, therefore you, once again by your own words, are not a horrible person.

[tsukishima k] i-

[dr o] tsukishima-kun, when you first came into my office back when you were in highschool, you shared with me your inability to get close to people because of your fear of being hurt, isn't that correct?

[tsukishima k] ...

[tsukishima k] ...yes.

[dr o] once we established that not everyone was out to hurt you, the fear turned to yourself. your abrasive language and uncaring attitude caused you to worry that you would hurt others.

[tsukishima k] could you stop talking about me like i'm some case in a textbook?

[dr o] (giggles) of course, sorry. i get carried away sometimes.

[tsukishima k] hm.

[dr o] (clears throat) i believe you are reverting back to your highschool self, hurting others before you believe they can hurt you.

[tsukishima k] ...but i thought- i thought i had gotten better.

[dr o] you are leagues from where you once were but i think ln-san has gotten very close to you, very fast and you got scared.

[tsukishima k] ...

[dr o] tell me this, tsukishima-kun; do you care for ln-san?

[tsukishima k] yes. a lot, actually.

[dr o] have you ever intentionally hurt her besides your last conversation with her?

[tsukishima k] ...no.

[dr o] what makes you think that you will hurt her again?

[tsukishima k] because i always do.

[dr o] but you don't always hurt people as we just discussed.

[tsukishima k] but i-

[dr o] no you don't. say it tsukishima-kun. i don't always hurt people.

[tsukishima k] ...

[dr o] say it.

[tsukishima k] ... i don't always hurt people.

[dr o] good. now say i am not a horrible person.

[tsukishima k] i am not a horrible person.

[dr o] you need to start believing that. you won't hurt ln-san by just being near her. do you think you hurt yamaguchi-kun everytime you hang out?

[tsukishima k] no.

[dr o] then why do you feel this way about ln-san?

[tsukishima k] i... i don't know.

[dr o] i think you just expect your romantic relationships to fail because you're actually scared of them succeeding. you are always expecting the situation to end horribly which leads you to attempt to ruin it before the bad thing happens.

[tsukishima k] ...

[dr o] tell me this tsukishima-kun; do you want to ln-san to be in your life?

[tsukishima k] ... yes.

[dr o] then you have to try and look past your fears of things ending poorly and take risks to keep her. bad things happen in life but if you are always looking for them, then they will be found.

[tsukishima k] how do i... do that?

[dr o] buy a journal and everyday write about all the positive things in your life and the positive things that you have done. then start changing the negative thoughts you have about yourself into positive ones. when you think "i'm a monster", banish that thought and transform it into, "i have made some mistakes but i am better now for it."

[dr o] (watch beeps) alright, all our time is up for today. i have some homework for you to do before i see you next week.

[tsukishima k] great, more work. (smiles)

[dr o] (laughs) this should be easier than your uni work, promise. i would like you to make a list of all the good things about your relationship with ln-san. after your list is written, i would like for you to express those good things and the way she makes you feel to her when you're ready to apologize.

[tsukishima k] w-what?

[dr o] (giggles) don't worry, you can take your time. i would like to see your list next week though.

[tsukishima k] (stands) thank you otsuaka-san.

[dr o] of course tsukishima-kun. now hurry out alright? and don't forget to buy a journal!

{end of recording}

< omg they were roommates :0

buckle up, we’re going to therapy

series masterlist

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an: get you a man who talks about you to his therapist 😩😤🥵💦 sorry if this is inaccurate btw!! i have NEVER* (ong i’m illiterate) had a therapist besides my mom so if this is not how sessions go, i am so v v sorry 😔✨ ALSO SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER TO UPDATE SCHOOL SUCKS ASS AND I WANNA DROP OUT luv y’all lots muah muah 😽💕

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[pretoriafics]

Therapy Sessions with the Devil - Part II

You guys requested me about this one so much! I'm glad all of you liked part one. Now, prepare yourself for your worst nightmare being Homelander's therapist.

Word count: 1.683 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mental disorders, sexual harassment, stalking and regurgitation. +16 only Versão em português aqui PART 1 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

If hell really exists, for you, it sure would be Friday mornings. Of course, that was a very contradictory thought for most people. Friday was usually associated with a fun day where, after work, you could go out with your friends in the evening and return home whenever you wanted. That was the advantage of Fridays: The fact that you know you don't have to wake up early the next day to go to work. Knowing that the week was coming to an end was like a cool breeze, as well as knowing that the next day would be pure rest. That didn't exactly apply to you. Okay, it was great to know that you wouldn't have to work the other day. That was the only good point on Fridays for you because on that specific day of the week you have Homelander as a patient. Your attempt to get rid of him on leaving Vought had been successfully thwarted because you were apparently a good professional. And you've never hated yourself so much for being good at what you did as a job. It turns out that, lately, things had started to get a little strange in the consultations with him. Homelander always mentioned a girl, whom he said he was starting to see differently. He filled her with compliments when he spoke of her, always reinforcing how much he loved the color of her eyes, her calm voice, and the way her hair moved with her graceful walk. Of course, according to him, if she were a Supe she would be perfect. But that's okay because he said he really accepted her "with that imperfection". You started to suspect that he was talking about you but avoided thinking about it. It not only made you sick with dread, but it completely perturbs you. A Homelander in love with you would be a great way to make it even worse than it was going. That morning on a Friday the 13th, when you arrived at the office, you saw that on your table was a sumptuous bouquet with the most beautiful reddish roses you had seen. Despite the beauty of those flowers, you took that as confirmation of your worst nightmare. Terrified, you let your bag hit the floor and ran to the bathroom. There, you knelt in front of the toilet and put all your breakfast out. Tears were wetting your face, your hands were shaking in pure fear. And then, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. “Yes, put everything out. Everything will be fine, it will be over… ” It was him. Homelander's voice flooded your ears, and you had to take a deep breath to try to take some control over yourself. “Okay, I'm already better. It must have been something I ate for breakfast. Can you excuse me and wait for me on the couch, please? ” He nodded, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Sure." As soon as he left, you closed the door. You took the toothbrush and the paste you kept there, brushed your teeth, and wiped away your tears. Then, you left the bathroom ready to get it over with. So, you sat in your chair while Homelander directed his worried blue eyes to you. You have started the query. "Well, let's get started then." “Don't feel pressured to make our session today. We can do it tomorrow, you are not feeling well. ” You forced a slight smile. “I'm better, thanks. And I don't work on weekends. ” Not least because you weren't willing to let Homelander ruin your Saturday. "I bought these flowers for you when I was coming here." He got up from the couch and took the bouquet from the table, handing it to you with a tender look. Homelander was beaming and even looked so anxious as a teenager in front of their crush. You, however, froze. You clenched your jaw and forced another smile, holding the flowers. “I appreciate it, John. I'm flattered, but I need you to know that we need to keep our relationship strictly professional and impersonal. I can have my therapist register canceled with this type of relationship with a patient because it is unethical, and I don't want to end up harming myself. ” Those words made you realize how brave you were. You had fought an internal battle to say that. "But I will put the flowers in a vase after the consultation." His expression became austere and you froze with it. Homelander nodded and lay down on the couch while you put the flowers back on your table. Fortunately, at that meeting, he hadn't mentioned you or anything you might suspect was about you. The subjects of that consultation were merely concerned with the Seven, about their suspicions about Starlight, and how angry he was with the team. You were with your head on the clouds. You couldn't stop thinking about what you would do now that your worst nightmare had become real. You were so disturbed, you didn't even see that appointment go by. It seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, unlike the others that seemed to be an eternity. And then you were finally able to rest. Being Homelander's therapist also brought other burdens: No therapist could maintain consultations with you, because it was too heavy for anyone to hear you talk about Homelander. Until then, you hadn't been able to find anyone who could help you support the weight you carried on your shoulders. You even thought of writing everything you felt in a diary as a way to try to get out and put out what you felt. However, the fear that Homelander might read outweighed everything. That was another point: You felt, at times, that you were being followed and observed. The curtains in your house always remained closed, although you knew that if Homelander was really stalking you, curtains would not help. That was enough for you to start developing a little paranoia. But that Saturday had been unlike anything. As usual, you woke up with the feeling of being watched. However, it looked different that time. It was almost as if you were feeling that Homelander was also on the sumptuous penthouse where you lived. Knowing that hiding in any room in the house could be worse, you simply chose to go out with a friend. Your circle of friends didn't recognize you anymore, and they even seemed to be concerned about you. While you and your friend were walking through Central Park, while she was telling some random gossip from someone in your social circle, you couldn't stop looking around. Homelander was there, somewhere, watching you. You were quite sure of that! Night soon came, and that feeling of being watched did not go away. You had the impression that Homelander, when he came to watch you, never stayed that long. His maximum was three hours. But on that Saturday, he seemed to be on your heels all day. You chose to wear your worst pajamas that night, the one that best hid your body, since you never had the feeling of being watched at that time. You were certain that you would not be able to sleep, and you could already feel that your emotions were extremely drained. Trying to act as naturally as you could, you lay down in your King Size bed. You covered yourself with the blankets and turned off the lights. You were lying in a sideways so that you could see the door that went into your corridor. It was like you were waiting to hear Homelander's footsteps there. But then you saw, through the reflection of the mirror, the door to your closet - the only door you were facing away from. You saw the reason for all your dread. The mirror reflected the image of a Homelander with slightly red eyes, watching you through the crack in the door. His uniform pants were slumped under his feet, and despite the low light, you could see what he was doing - explained mainly by the movement of one of his arms. His eyes were on you as he touched himself, and that seemed to be the main reason he didn't notice that you saw him. Your heart sped up, and you had to contain a weeping of fear and the nausea you felt when you noticed that grotesque scene. Tears flooded your face so that your vision was completely blurred, and panic made your entire body stop functioning. Homelander was completely obsessed with you, and that would bring you to complete ruin. You didn't sleep the rest of the night - even when you noticed that Homelander was no longer in the apartment. Still, on Sunday morning, you only managed to get out of bed at seven. You had been crying all night, completely stunned by the surreal situation that had happened. Apathetic, there were no more tears, no energy to cry or be afraid. You were just an empty shell, an inanimate object - the Homelander's favorite one. So you walked slowly to the closet to change clothes. And there was proof that what had happened last night was real. It was everywhere. The pearly liquid present on the door, on the floor, and at some points on the wall proved that he had not touched himself just once that night. You staggered backward, feeling that sudden wave of nausea again. That scene was enough for you to stride to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet while your body tried to expel something through your mouth, without success. Suddenly, you felt your heart racing. Panic enveloped you, and you leaned against the bathroom wall, your breathing as fast as your heart. Sweeping heat shot through your body, and you started to feel sweaty. The air seemed to start to drain from your lungs and you thought you were about to die. And if your time to die had indeed come, fine. Homelander would no longer torment you anymore.