#had a productive but upsetting session of therapy today

[manygreetingsfriend]

hm. drunk and not crossfaded enough to be grappling with the idea that my parents do not love me and have never loved me, but only an idea of me! don’t care for it!

[meeludrawz]

New rehab program - Pt 3

Shigaraki x Reader ~ You're the very last therapist that the law has sent to "help" Shigaraki Tomura. All Might is the one who recommended you but the thing is, you have to be roommates with the villain ~

Warnings: You have anxiety, skin picking problems (Not mentioned in this text but will be in next parts), emetophobia, angst? (Idk if that counts as angst), violence

Author's note: I'm glad people love this as much as I do!! So be fed my children <3 BTW EVERYTIME THERE'S A BANNER, IT'S A TIMESKIP OR ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW / POV

The rest of that day, you were less anxious than earlier but it was still bad. You would almost drop everything even with your quirk that usually made it impossible to drop stuff. You couldn't just stop shaking, even if you were forcing yourself to.

And due to your fear, you avoided Shigaraki as much as you could. As if you could catch his hungover like it was an illness. You made sure to give him a water bottle, once he was out of the bathroom, and cooked him something light for his stomach.

Though, as said earlier, you avoided him like the pest, you even made sure to eat way before him. He had ended up eating alone for both lunch and dinner.

You weren't avoiding him just because you were scared to "catch" his hungover like something contagious but also because you told yourself to keep a professional facade. To you, it felt unrealistic for a therapist to be in that state. Mostly in front of their patient.. Tomura found it odd. Sure it's not like he was spending his days with you. Because he didn't want to get involved into those therapy shit sessions but.. Somehow, you kept taking care of him, undirectly of course.

He felt like he had been hit by a wrecking ball, so he took a nap on the couch. When he woke up, he found multiple ginger products placed on the little coffee table, they were all for nausea, there was even a water bottle.

And when it was time to eat, you even had made him food that wouldn't upset his stomach once more.

He definitely saw how scared- No, terrified you were when he was sick. So maybe you weren't taking care of him but making sure you wouldn't get to see him in that state again. He wasn't an idiot. He had learned to read people.

The next day, he was almost surprised to see that his new therapist had stopped avoiding him and that life was back to what it was.

Well, almost, as he could spot that you were still anxious here and there but you were more calm than yesterday for sure.

"How are you today? You mostly lied down yesterday" He didn't even play a game. Which, in the past month that you had spent with him, was very rare. "Are you.. Feeling better? I know multiple tricks to avoid nausea" You looked at him and his gaze met yours.

He only stared, as if he was frozen in place.

"You were shaking" Shigaraki spat almost out of nowhere.

You nervously chuckled. He had seen that, huh? You could come up with a lie.. Telling him that you were cold since you walked out of the shower when that happened… But honestly, why bother when he was pointing out the truth? "Yeah.. Still am a bit" You whispered that last part.

"Why" That didn't sound like a question, and when you met his gaze again, you spotted a mix of confusion and annoyance.

"Why was I shaking?"

"Why are you still here?" He had spent the whole month avoiding you and refusing to talk. He even thought that you had hidden his phone's charger to force him into a therapy. But he ended up finding it under his bed. He almost never left his room and you never went in either so he had figured that it wasn't you. Plus, why would you hide his charger under his bed? That just didn't make sense.

He was getting more and more annoyed. Someone could say that he was getting paranoid but he'd quickly decay that person in no time. Him? Paranoid? Tch, as if.

You confusedly stood in front of him. "I live here?"

You clearly didn't understand his question and that pissed him.

He swung forward, in your direction, before he collapsed on his knees, trembling violently. He clutched the collar around his neck, his hands becoming white at how strong his grip was.

You jumped in his direction and yanked out your phone, dialing All Might. You begged him for the procedure to remove the necklace. The hero and you panicked together as you tried to help Shigaraki while he was being tortured by his collar.

The villain had started shedding tears, he never cried so he HATED crying but being electrocuted didn't feel good to anyone.

Before you could remove it, the shocked stopped in not even a second.

Tomura was breathing heavily. His hands still clutching the collar, he looked like he was trying to break it with his own strength but as if that would work. So you approached your hands as you followed All Might's instructions as much as you could. You also couldn't cry even if you were more than stressed at the moment or else everything would get blurry and you didn't want to accidentally hurt him more than this. But as you tried to help him, Tomura violently slapped your hand away.

You jolted as he did and he trembled more as the collar sent him another quick shock.

"Please just let me help!" Your voice sounded almost desperate and it somehow didn't tremble even if you were scared shitless. You tightly grabbed both his wrists even if Shigaraki fought against you. Almost like a toddler throwing a tantrum but add the swearing and the "fuck offs".

"Let me remove it!"

Why didn't you stop?! He didn't want your help! He didn't want you! He didn't need anything! So why wouldn't you just STOP?!

He kept struggling against you, like a wild and enraged animal. Trying to kick, punch, anything so you'd let go of his wrists but that annoying quirk of yours was pissing him off. Yes, he was aware of your dodging quirk, he had done his homework but it was still annoying.

"TOMURA PLEASE!" You begged him with such intensity that he froze.

He finally threw a glance at you. You weren't acting like a therapist who just wanted its paycheck and leave. You were acting.. Different.

He didn't know how to react to this. He just.. Stopped fighting.

It took a few seconds, you looked surprised but even he couldn't give you an answer, before you started working on the collar. He felt his hair being gently moved out of your way. The young man shivered as your fingers skimmed against his scratches on his neck, but you did it so carefully that he felt… Something. What was it though? He didn't know. But it somehow didn't feel bad.

He ended up choosing that it was an annoying feeling.

Click!

He suddenly felt relief around his neck. The collar was thrown against the wall. Tomura let out a shaky sigh that he wasn't aware he had been holding.

His eyes widened when you brought him against you, wrapping your arms so gently around him that he didn't even have time to react.

"You're free now"

What were you talking about? He had always been free. Were you dumb?

"Sorry, you didn't deserve that"

Clearly, you were the dumbest therapist on Earth. Hello? He killed countless of people and almost destroyed Japan multiple times. Plus you weren't the one who gave him that collar. So of course he deserved it.

"It won't hurt you anymore, you're safe"

Safe..? The white haired's thoughts wandered towards how stupid you were but he felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He blinked. He was… Crying? Why? He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. Something was clearly wrong with him. But what?

HOW ANNOYING

Tomura almost gave in. He almost melted into your arms and hugged you back, but he pushed you away instead.

As he got up to his bedroom, he realized he had been shaking. Huh, so that's why you hugged him. Because he had looked weak to your eyes.

From the side of his eye, he spotted you sitting on the floor, confusedly looking at him while you wiped your eyes. He glanced at the necklace, then back at you. Tomura smirked before stepping into his bedroom.

You really were dumb

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 - You're here

[another-whump-sideblog]

Fixing Tracy -- Tough Questions

TWs in the tags

Masterlist

"Why me?"

Molly pauses the movie they were watching. Well, that Molly was watching. Tracy was thinking. "Hmm?"

"I get that you want to– to fix people. But I'm not the only broken person. Why did you choose me?"

"...do you really want to talk about that? Is there any answer that would make you happy? Or even just wouldn't make you upset?"

"I… probably not. But I still want to know. I'll… I'll be more upset wondering about it forever, so I'll be less upset if you just tell me, even if I don't like the answer."

"I guess that makes sense… Well, first of all, you're unique in that you would never take care of yourself without being forced. I do help other people, but that's usually through money or offering advice or things like that. If I brought those people home, it wouldn't necessarily benefit them, because their problems aren't with struggling to relax, y'know? They wouldn't benefit from having that choice taken away from them, because they don't feel guilty for resting."

"What makes you so confident that I feel guilty for resting?"

"I've been watching you for two years, Tracy. You don't rest. We've already talked about your old sleeping habits, but it's other things too. You never let a free moment be a free moment, you always have to 'fix it' by finding something to do. You use food and sleep as rewards for yourself instead of as needs that must be satisfied for your health. You say 'I feel so guilty that I couldn't get more done today' all the time. That's the main one."

"TWO–" Tracy forces herself to take three deep breaths. Yelling won't accomplish anything. Yelling won't… be productive. It might make Molly think she's a 'danger to herself and others.' Her heart pounds. "Okay, but why did you choose me to stalk for those two years? You didn't know any of that before then."

"...do you… I… I can't give an answer that will satisfy you."

"I know. I want the truth!" Tracy gets off the couch and starts pacing, trying to prevent herself from punching Molly.

"...we've met before. You probably don't remember. I… I was a therapist, over a decade ago. You were… one of my clients. So, when I saw you again, and recognized you… I just wanted to help. I think I made things worse when I was your therapist. I watched you to figure out how to help. That's why.”

Tracy’s angry, certainly. She doesn’t remember the content of any of her childhood therapy sessions at all, but she does know that that’s when she got a diagnosis of ODD that placed the blame for any problems she had inside of her alone. Molly did that to her.

Behind that anger, though, behind even her conscious awareness, there's relief. It's not her fault. Molly isn't doing this because of anything Tracy did wrong to entice her. It's all… out of her control.

"...You remind me of myself, you know." Molly is still talking. "You're… a caregiver, a protector. It's built into you like it's built into me. You're exactly like I would be if I was broken. You would do absolutely anything for your little sister… I feel the same way about you as you feel about her. You’re my Alicia”

Tracy stops pacing to face Molly and shakes with rage. “If I ever make Alicia feel the way you’ve made me feel, I hope she kills me.”

Molly looks as if she’s been struck across the face. “You… you don’t mean that.”

“I do. You’ve made me feel so miserable, scared, trapped, and alone. If I ever make Alicia feel like that, I hope she does whatever she has to to get away from me and doesn’t look back.”

Molly stands up. “You- you were miserable before! I know! I saw! You would never let Alicia go through that!”

“It’s her life, not mine! Of course I would offer everything I have to make her happy, but if she refused that offer I wouldn’t fucking drug her and lock her in a basement, you sick fuck. It would be hard to just watch Alicia suffer without doing anything about it. Really, really hard. But if she asked that of me, I would. I guess that’s the difference between us. I love Alicia enough to do the hard thing. To— to let it be out of my hands, because that’s harder than any kidnapping plot." Tracy can picture it. She can picture being so overprotective of Alicia that she takes choices away from her. She can understand what feelings might lead to that. But that's where it ends, because her love for Alicia is stronger than her feelings. "I love her enough to let go. You don’t love me like that. The way you feel about me is nothing like how I feel about Alicia.” 

Tears start to form in Molly’s eyes. “No, no, you would do the same as me! I— I— you wouldn’t let her just hurt herself even if she begged and begged you too! You’d do anything to stop her from hurting herself! We’re the same! I love you!!”

Tracy doesn’t know what she would do if Alicia was determined to hurt herself and the only way Tracy could stop her would be removing her choices. But she does know that she wants to make Molly cry. She wants to make Molly feel even just a fraction of what she’s put Tracy through. “My parents loved me too, you know. But it wasn’t enough. Loving someone will never be enough to make up for hurting them. You’re much more like my parents than like me.”

“No!” Tears slide down Molly’s face. “No, no…” she looks away from Tracy and takes a shaky breath. “I… I need a break from this conversation.”

She quickly darts to the basement door, unlocks it with shaking hands, then steps through, pulls it shut behind her, and relocks it

She left the bag of restraints.

Tag list: @whumpyourdamnpears

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[hawkshadowwrites]

best thing that’s ever been mine

vegaspete, 2.8k

one shot, complete, rated G

Tags: Fluff, Professional Cuddling AU, Cuddling & Snuggling, therapy dogs, mentions of anxiety and depression, Vegas is going through it, pete is very very cute, allusions to pet play (kink), pete is a puppy (fluff)

Vegas shows up to pet some therapy dogs and finds Pete instead:

ATTACHED ART BY @kiiyuq !!!

read below or read on ao3

🐶🐶🐶

Vegas loves dogs. Always has.

Growing up he always wanted one of his own, a puppy that was his. One that could sleep in his bed next to him, that he could take on walks, that he could feed and cuddle. A dog that would love him no matter what. A dog that would always love him.

His father refused, said animals were for vagrants and common folk, that people like them in upper society don’t have dogs. They don’t have pets.

His father also had a lot of opinions on propper animals, instructing him to take care of some hedgehogs as he was younger only to berate and scold Vegas when they died off one by one.

His father had opinions on a lot of things, really.

Like that Vegas isn’t living up to expectations, isn’t following the path set for him, isn’t bringing honor to the family. It doesn’t matter that Vegas is unfathomably intelligent, managing a double major in record time with near perfect grades. It doesn’t matter that he has done every single thing his father has asked of him, the fact that he still has the audacity to pursue something like an English degree is unforgivable.

Vegas is on his own now, after all of that. Working part time to supplement his income — as his father refuses to pay for a single textbook — and works twice as hard to finish his degree.

He didn’t even really pay attention to the fact that he was stressed, or depressed, or anxious. All of those things are a baseline for him. Why would he point out that he feels hopeless and worthless and broken? That’s just who he is.

Apparently, though, normal people don’t feel those things. And all of this is perfectly normal, that it’s just brain chemistry, that lots of people face these problems, which Vegas finds ridiculously contradictory according to the previous point that normal people aren’t feeling miserable from the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep.

At least, these are things the college therapist explained to him, gently, as if Vegas might crawl over the desk and strangle them with his bare hands.

It crossed his mind, at least.

Vegas would rather gouge out his own eyes than submit to the mortifying ordeal of being perceived, of being forced to talk about things that upset him, to talk about his feelings. Even though it was nice to have a space with someone who actually listened to him, and who he felt didn’t look down on him or want to use him for something. Someone who wasn’t constantly comparing him to his cousin.

Still, his sessions haven’t been as productive for his overall mood as the therapist would have liked, so now Vegas is given a new task.

Visit the campus therapy dogs.

Apparently, once a week, a mental health organization comes on campus with trained service dogs, designed to help people with depression and anxiety and other mood disorders. That they can help bring joy and help relieve stress. Vegas thinks this is a weird concept but he isn’t going to complain, not when he can picture a gray Pitbull with wide eyes, head in his lap. Or maybe a black lab, fur soft under his fingers and tail thumping against the ground as Vegas scratches its head.

It’s just a fact that Vegas loves dogs, so what does he have to lose?

He writes down the date and time on a paper and takes it with him, noting that the soonest is a few days from today. He at least will be able to move through the mountain of homework he has, call Macau, go to the store and meal prep, do laundry, and perhaps finish reading his book.

Just a usual days list of tasks.

Vegas tries to forget about it, not wanting to waste all of his time and energy on something still so far away, but he fails. Once the idea has been placed in his mind he can’t stop thinking about it. He wonders what it would be like to actually gain a service animal. Is that allowed? To have with him, always.

It doesn’t matter anymore that his father wouldn’t allow it, the school campus refuses and his off campus housing also prohibits pets. But service animals are an exception to that rule, right?

The days pass slow and fast, all at once and not at all. But finally the day comes and Vegas feels a flutter of excitement in his stomach. He shouldn’t be this nervous, or have this much anticipation. It’s just a normal thing.

But the thing is, it’s not.

Because when he gets to the room that the event is supposed to take place, when he opens the door expecting to find the dogs, all he sees is a cute boy with a collar and dog ears, in an oversized sweater, staring back at him.

The room is almost set up with a large cage along the wall — fully stocked with comfortable looking pillows and blankets — some toys surrounding the cage, and a few extra large dog beds in the middle.

Vegas blinks, sure he is just hallucinating, but no, it seems to be not a delusion caused from undue stress and lack of sleep, but in fact, an actual guy dressed like a dog surrounded by dog toys.

“I’m sorry,” Vegas says slowly. “I must have gotten the wrong room.”

He didn’t. He knows he didn’t. He double and triple checked it.

The guy smiles and Vegas is first and foremost almost knocked over by his dimples. Dimples.

“Are you Vegas?”

Vegas nods, a little taken aback that the guy knows his name. Vegas takes the opportunity to examine him, noting that the cuffs of his sweater are extra long, over his fingers that he has curled at the ends. The sweater looks soft, a material that invites touch. It’s big on him, slipping off one shoulder to expose a collarbone and Vegas feels very overwhelmed in a lot of reasons.

“I’m Pete,” he explains. “I’m going to be your therapy dog for today.”

“My… what?”

Pete just smiles up at him and something about the warm brown of his eyes and the way his dimples dip into his cheeks has Vegas’s skin flushing. This has to be some type of joke.

“Did my therapist put you up to this? Is this a prank?”

“No, absolutely not.” Pete brings one hand up to adjust the puppy ears on his head before dropping them in his lap. “I help out with the other dogs, train them and volunteer when they are here. But there are times they can’t make it and usually don’t schedule themselves to come if there’s only one or two people signed up. So that’s where I come in.”

Vegas shifts on his feet and thinks about where to shove his hands; on his hips? Clasped behind his back? In his pockets? Crossing his arms? Why don’t people think about this? Is he over thinking this?

Pete makes a soft nose and Vegas snaps back to attention on him, trying to ignore the blush on his cheeks. “You can start by taking off your shoes, if that makes you more comfortable.”

Vegas wants to snap that nothing would make him more comfortable, but he leans down to pull off his shoes anyway. He’s grateful he’s wearing his normal black socks today, and not any of the embarrassing ones that he only gets away with when he’s wearing boots.

He really should leave.

This is really fucking weird.

“Who are you?” Vegas asks instead.

“I’m a biology major, but I also participate in a lot of the drama productions. I just like being a puppy sometimes, and find a lot of people need more hugs than they think they do.” Pete doesn’t move closer to Vegas but the longer he is standing with Pete sitting the more uncomfortable he gets.

He’s in jeans though, and a blouse that is extremely wrinkleable. He also has no idea what he is allowed to do or supposed to do.

“Come a little closer to me,” Pete suggests softly.

Vegas wonders how often he does this. Wonders who else has seen Pete like this in a sweater and black athletic shorts and fluffy socks, smiling at him like he is the best thing he’s seen all day.

Vegas knows for a fact that can’t be true. He is usually the worst part of someone’s day.

But he pads forward anyway, socks quiet on the rug, feeling his stomach flip as Pete looks up at him with an unfairly soft expression.

Vegas can’t remember the last time he was hugged by someone, and he really can’t ever remember a time that someone looked at him like that. People don’t look at him like that. Vegas is the asshole, the jerk, the black sheep. No one ever wants to be with just him, without the Theerapanyakul name or the money.

He gets in close enough that he is standing almost directly above Pete, and he is irritatingly, even cuter up close.

“I won’t bite,” Pete laughs softly. “I’m here to do whatever is most comfortable for you.”

“I’m very, deeply, extremely uncomfortable.”

“I can see that.” Pete slides his thumb along the ridges of his knuckles, still covered by the cuffs of his sweater. “Do you want to maybe sit down and I can put my head in your lap? Some people like that. Or I can start by a simple hug?”

Vegas tenses. He doesn’t mean to, but he hasn’t been held in so long that the idea scares him. What if he’s a bad hugger? What if Pete thinks he is weird? What if he makes Pete uncomfortable and he fucks this up too?

He sits anyway. This is all about trying new things, after all. He looks over at Pete who hasn’t moved, clearly waiting for Vegas to tell him what is okay to do.

Vegas looks down at his hands in his lap and twirls the ornate family ring around his finger a few times. Pete’s hair does look really soft, and the idea of Pete laying with his head in his lap is… nice.

“The first one,” Vegas mumbles, scared to admit it. This is weird, right? This is weird. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t be this nervous or out of sorts with physical contact with someone. If this goes poorly he never has to come back, so there’s nothing stopping him from allowing something silly.

Pete must be used to this because he nods and shifts around, dropping down on his back and gently rests his head against Vegas’s thigh.

Vegas would prefer to kill everyone he could before admitting it, but the moment Pete rests the weight of his head on his thigh, he feels better. He is warm, but solid. Something tangible and real.

“Can—” Vegas starts but wrenches his jaw shut. He is already embarrassing himself enough, he doesn’t need to do more.

Pete, though, once again seems to understand. He turns his head just slightly so that he is looking up at Vegas and smiles that disarming smile again. “You’re allowed to touch me. That’s kind of the whole point.”

Vegas swallows back the thought of doing more than just touching, that Pete shouldn’t say such things because now Vegas is thinking about a host of inappropriate scenarios. He shakes it off and lifts one hand and hesitantly places it on Pete’s chest.

The swear is as soft as it looks and Vegas can’t help but slide his hand down to feel the texture. Pete is warm. So warm, and so firm. Firm in the way a body holds weight, that it exists and takes up space and is real. But he also feels soft.

He looks fit and trim, but Vegas can feel that he has this softness to himself that wraps him in a layer of comfort. Pete releases a small breathy sigh and curls closer into Vegas.

His heart jumps into his throat and Vegas wants to never let him go. He can’t help it, really, not with how attached he is already. Slowly he lifts his other hand to Pete’s forehead and brushes some of the bangs off his face and Vegas is dismayed to find out that his hair is just as soft as he thought it would be.

He wonders what else Pete does, if Pete enjoys playing puppy full time. That if this is just some silly joke for him or if he would look at Vegas with wide dark eyes if Vegas called him puppy.

He wants to know, but doesn’t.

He wonders what it would be like to hold Pete in other ways, to lay his head on his tummy and hide his face and maybe Pete could tell him softly that he is good. That he is doing a good job.

Vegas aches with it.

He feels tongue tied and out of sorts, feels like he wants more more more more more. More.

Pete makes another sound as Vegas combs his fingers through his hair again and Vegas wants to try something out.

“Pretty puppy,” Vegas says softly, scratching behind Pete’s ears, careful not to dislodge the actual puppy ears Pete is wearing. Vegas isn’t really sure what he was expecting but it is not Pete emitting a breathy moan.

Vegas freezes as Pete flushes but doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t try to deny what happened, or play it off as something else.

“Does my puppy like that?” Vegas does it again, this time massaging his fingers into the nape of Pete’s neck and the back of his head. “Such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Vegas is only marginally prepared for Pete’s moan this time, and when he continues to apply pressure against Pete’s skin, Pete makes another desperate sound.

He has a feeling that this is not included in the standard service, that whatever Pete does with other people, it’s not this. Vegas feels a little insane, frankly, and isn’t sure how to possibly address this feeling. He wants to make Pete moan again, and again, and again. Make him moan as he becomes — and stays — desperate for him. He also realizes all in a rush that he is half hard, quickly in danger of becoming fully hard.

“I don’t normally do this,” Pete says softly, shifting to look up at Vegas. “And even though this is free and not anything paid, I need you to know that I don’t… I’m not inappropriate with people.”

Vegas suddenly feels like shit. Of course he doesn’t do this, and Vegas is being absolutely pathetic by getting hard with the smallest amount of physical contact. He thinks he should apologize, but the words are stuck in his throat.

“But,” Pete says again, soft enough that Vegas has to strain to hear him. “What I do on my own time…”

This is a dream, surely. Things like this don’t happen to Vegas. He doesn’t randomly meet cute boys with dimples that moan when he calls them puppy, who make his heart flutter in his chest with what feels like genuine joy. This is just too good to be true.

Vegas must not have said anything or reacted in time because Pete suddenly looks anxious, not fully pulling away but trying to create a little bit of distance.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god. I think I missed read the situation. This is really inappropriate and weird and awful. I am really so sorry.”

Vegas thinks about cutting him off but he is distracted by what is clearly present signs of arousal through the crotch of Pete’s pants. Looks like Vegas isn’t the only one feeling things after all.

“Easy puppy,” Vegas chides, allowing the urge to rise up in him and fall out. He wants to take care of Pete so bad. In so many ways. “I didn’t say no, now did I?”

Pete shakes his head, but doesn’t respond.

“I’ve always wanted a dog, you know,” Vegas hums thoughtfully. “But I guess a puppy like you is just as good. Better, even.”

Vegas is overcome with the need to feed him, to crawl into his bed at his apartment and pull Pete in his arms and wrap all of his limbs around him.

Pete just watches him, silent and waiting.

“So what do you say puppy, do you want to come home with me?”

Pete smiles, and it cuts through Vegas’s heart in a way he knows he will never be the same again. “Yeah. Yeah I’d love that.”

###

Vegas discovers many things that night. One, that Pete is a phenomenal cuddler. Two, he really, really loves being called puppy. Three, he is incredibly eager to eat food out of Vegas’s hand. Four, his tummy is as soft as expected. Five, he is profoundly easy to talk to.

And six, that Pete cuddles just as well without clothes than he does with them.

And seven, when he wakes up in Vegas’s arms in the mornings, Vegas thinks that he might finally be able to be happy.

He has a dog now, after all.

/fin

ART BELOW DRAWN BY @kiiyuq !!

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in: April 17, 2024 🎀

today was a decent day up until the end, when I got upset and emotional over some things and ended up crying again. I swear, I've cried the last 6 out of 7 nights, and I'm so tired of it. here's to hoping things finally get better soon because this emotional stuff is seriously affecting my productivity, motivation, and discipline.

🩷 What I Accomplished:

studied chapter 6 of Latin American Spanish on Busuu

listened to 3 podcast episodes in Spanish

completed and submitted my lab report and pre lab quiz, also did my pre lab notebook prep

went to my last chem lab for the semester

went to chem lecture

had a meeting with the Dietetic director to map out some classes for the upcoming semesters

washed dishes

attempted a phone call with my boyfriend for the first time in a week (relationship issues + long distance × love ÷ dating for 2 years = an emotional rollercoaster, and lots of frustration)

washed laundry, did not put away yet

scheduled a therapy session for tomorrow morning

completed a 7 minute pilates abs workout from Madeliene Abeid

completed the 11 minute wake up yoga from Yoga with Adriene

started to do the 5 min daily stretch from Pamela Reif but my dad called me so I didn't finish it

downloaded a pdf of a Spanish textbook

rescheduled my italki lesson because I need to study for chem

scheduled 2 study rooms to study for chem with my chem lab partner

completed the pre class assignment for chemistry

walked ~8k steps

🩷 Good Things That Happened:

saw my dad this morning, who then took me to the campus library a bit early (I love getting to see my dad, I don't get to see him too often since he lives on the opposite side of town)

passed my lab report and pre class assignment

finished my chem lab super fast

had pizza rolls for dinner (I needed something quick and simple cause I've been tired)

got more practice with the chemistry lecture content

woke up esrly enough to do my morning routine

did a complete night routine, including skincare (-didn't read tho, couldn't decide on a book )

more good things happened, I just honestly can't remember them right now. but today was not a bad day.

💗 Stuff For Thursday:

psyc doc appointment

therapy appointment

supplemental chemistry class hours

make sure I'm caught up on homework

apply to/write essays for some scholarship applications

check hours worked if possible to determine next week's paycheck

study Spanish!!! dedicate a good chunk of time to it

do my morning and night routine as best as possible

Thursday is definitely going to be an interesting day, thats for sure. I don't feel as tho I'll have as much to do, but I'm going to find things to do, like studying my Spanish, etc.

til next time lovelies 🩷

ps. check out my depop shop <3

💕 Song of The Day -

Le Sserafim - Antifragile

this has been a long time fave of mine

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

Gotta get therapy thoughts off my chest…every session with this therapist has been so hard and I cry every time and I hate it. But I think it’s cause I’m unlocking all the hard stuff now. I thought so much of my anxiety and depression was from my ex, but so much of it is about how I was raised and all the pressure that was put on me.

Today we were talking (among other things) how I have trouble trusting myself and how growing up and even currently, my parents never trusted my opinions/thoughts/actions. Every big decision I made, they doubted or tried to change my mind. And each time, I still succeeded even when I went my own way.

The biggest example is college. I wanted a gap year because I didn’t know what I wanted for my future - they said I’d never go if I didn’t go straight to it. I didn’t trust myself so I went along. Then when I needed a break because I was struggling mentally so badly, they wouldn’t let me. I asked and begged and pleaded. They said I’d never go back. I finally realized that I was an adult (20 at the time) and could make the decision on my own. So I did. They were so upset even tho I had managed to get admitted to City Year. A 20 year old chosen among mostly 25+year olds. Most of the people were already college graduates. Instead of the celebrating that, they shamed me for it. Half a year worth of interviews and essays to get into that program and they didn’t care. I didn’t end up moving forward with it but did take off school. And I did go back a year and a half later. They doubted my decision to not go straight into my masters because they said I’d never go back. And yet again, I am going back to school. Just not on their timeline and that’s okay.

I digress…into relationship thoughts. And what my dad said about M and him not being right for me. How would he know? And genuinely how does anyone know? But I knew I wasn’t happy with my ex, I knew that all along. I have challenges with M, things he does that irritates me or upsets me, but isn’t that with anyone? I’d say 99% of the time we are happy. And I love that he lets me be me, that he doesn’t need 100% of my attention, that he trusts me when we’re apart, and that most of our together time is productive and fun and relaxing. Our goals and morals have stayed pretty similar to each other and he hasn’t changed thoughts (like my ex did and gaslighted me over). We are moving forward together toward similar goals and our relationship goals. Isn’t that all good? And my dads thoughts of M not expressing that he’d be devastated without me… maybe I’m still too jaded, maybe it means he isn’t right for me, but I know I’d be really sad if he left me. But I’m also confident enough in myself that I know I��d be okay on my own. And I think M feels the same way. With my ex….I’d rather have been dead than without him. And I don’t ever want to feel like that again About anyone and I don’t want anyone to feel like that about me.

But my dad didn’t like that. He said if my mom died, he wouldn’t be able to go on. His life would be over. And maybe that’s because they’re older. And i do think if my dad passed first, my mom would be lost. Their lives are 100% each other and…. I don’t want that. I don’t ever want that again. My dad leaves the house for a couple hours for bowling and my mom doesn’t know what to do. My dad drives my mom to womens church group things and waits in the car because “what else would I do” I don’t want that.

I’m going away for an entire week for my bachelorette party and I’ll miss M and I know he’ll miss Me, but I love that I can travel solo and not feel guilty. I love that sometimes he stays at his moms house (to help out with his grandmom) and that I can be without him without having a panic attack over it. I like that we are together because we want to be and sometimes apart just because we want to be.

I dunno. Just. Too much in my head right now.

[jungshookz]

the one where yoongi hates his therapist but kind of likes her receptionist; lveb!verse

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; lveb!universe equal parts emotionally constipated and cheeky yoongi!! the man of our dreams!! i don’t really know what to categorize this drabble as but it’s cute and it’s sfw <3 

➺ wordcount: 5k 

➺ summary; yoongi hates going to therapy - but you and your dumb little hershey kisses make it a tiny bit better, he supposes. 

➺ what to expect; “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read la vie en bonsai just to get a feel for what yoongi’s like and why we’re all falling hopelessly in love with him!! 

                                          »»————-　♡　————-««

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“uh-huh, yep.” the smile on yoongi’s face drops as soon as he shuts the door behind him and he immediately rolls his eyes

well

that was an hour and a half of his life that could’ve gone towards something more productive

watching paint dry probably would’ve been more productive than whatever the hell that was

dr. i-don’t-have-chairs-but-i-have-beanbags basically spent the entire session asking him to list out things that he loved which he thought was going to be an easy task because he liked a lot of things!

and everything was easy peasy lemon squeezy until dr. glittery-purple-nameplate pointed out that yoongi kept saying that he ‘liked’ this and he ‘liked’ that and he’d never actually said he ‘loved’ anything once and then she went into the whole ‘why do you think you’re so scared of love?’ thing and his eyes rolled so far back into his skull that he actually saw his pink, wrinkly brain

he knows that she’s just doing her job but he’d really appreciate if one of his sessions with her just consisted of the two of them sitting in silence while scrolling through their phones

he even asked her one time if it’d be alright if they did that just so he could tell his friend (the one that sent him here) that he willingly sat through an entire session of therapy 

obviously she said no and yoongi resisted the urge to use that as an excuse to give her 1/5 stars on google reviews (unfortunately the option to give 0 stars isn’t available) 

it’s just really hard to believe that dr. are-you-more-comfortable-opening-up-to-my-homemade-handpuppet-rory-the-lion has 5/5 shining gold stars on basically every single one of her google reviews

yoongi should be happy that he’s going to one of the best therapists in the city but he’s noT because: he doesn’t even need therapy!

he doesn’t even know why he’s here!

he shouldn’t be in therapy!

he’s min frickin yoongi!!

what the hell does he need a therapist for??

what the hell does he need therapy for?!

he can literally solve his own problems

if he’s sad he just plays video games all day and also eats an entire pint of ice cream  

if he’s mad he just plays violent video games all day and aggressively shoves an entire pint of ice cream into his mouth

he’s spent his entire life coming up with different coping mechanisms for himself and he thinks that he has a pretty good grip on his emotions

the only one that he’s a little iffy about is obviously <3 love <3 but-

that’s not a big deal, is it?

yes, technically speaking, he’s “emotionally unavailable” or whatever, but he really doesn’t know why that’s such an issue

yes, the thought of committing to someone in a long-term relationship and the thought of saying “i love you” to someone makes him want to rip his skin off but again, he really doesn’t know why that’s such a big iSSUE

besides

emotional unavailability is sexy

whenever he tells someone that he’s incapable of loving and the sex we’re going to have in three seconds will be animalistic and primal and will also mean nothing to me whatsoever their underwear basically flies off their legs and out the window

so, again: what! is! the! big! problem!

the only reason why he’s here is because, as mentioned earlier, one of his friends set up an appointment for him because god knows he’s not here of his own accord

(also, she did it without asking him first, so he’s still a little upset with her, but she made him a whole batch of brownies as a form of an apology so now he’s a little less upset with her. just a little, though.)

he knows she means well and only wants the best for him but he’s starting to think that maybe she sent him here to torture him and not to help him

his original plan was to go for like one or two sessions and then end it there buT there’s just a teeny little detail he has yet to mention 

there is one (1) thing that keeps him coming back every week

he’d even go as far as to say that this thing is the only thing that motivates him to continue to waste his hard-earned money on these weekly appointments

and that thing is-

“yoongi!” your eyes light up and yoongi can’t help but smile at how excited you are to see him even though you literally saw him when he was checking in an hour and a half ago, “how was your session?”

“it was-”

“oh, wait!” you gasp before pressing a finger up against your lips, “i don’t know if i’m legally allowed to ask you that. pretend i didn’t said anything.”

“my session was fine-” yoongi ignores you as he folds his arms up on the counter and leans forward, “i’m still dead on the inside and the concept of love remains ever so terrifying, so… yeah! everything’s pretty much the same.”

“ah, yes.” you lean forward as well, “that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.”

“oh yeah?” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk, “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?” he asks in a particularly sultry tone and you grin in response

“you gotta stop calling me that before i fully fall in love with you, yoongi-” you sigh dramatically before flittering your lashes at him and yoongi laughs lightly, “well, it is what it is. one day at a time, right?”

“baby steps.” yoongi hums and you nod in agreement before suddenly perking up

“hey- you want a kiss?”

another reason why yoongi enjoys your company is because you keep a little gumball machine on your desk

except you despise gumballs (you told him that on his very first day here when he asked you why there were no gumballs in what was obviously a mini gumball machine) so you filled it up with hershey’s chocolate kisses instead (you change the flavour of them every week! last week they were the milk chocolate almond ones)

“a kiss? from you?” yoongi digs his hands into his pockets, “at least let me put some chapstick on first, darling.”

“you know what i mean, yoongi.” you roll your eyes playfully before plopping the machine down in front of him, “they’re the cookies and creme ones this week!”

"mhm. whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n.”

                                                                  ♡

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“you got it, chief.” yoongi forces a smile before promptly shutting the door behind him

he lets out a huff before shaking his hair out of his eyes

somehow the hour and a half in there felt more like four hours and a half

he kept looking at the clock and whenever he thought that at least a good twenty minutes had gone by, it’d turn out that only like two and a half minutes had gone by!

he feels like maybe once the door is shut that time just ceases to exist

today he was forced to talk about all of the romantic relationships he’s ever had and that’s something that he’s never really discussed with… anyone, really.

not even his closest friends! 

yoongi’s had a multitude of flings but he’s been in three serious-ish relationships (yes, he knows that’s a huge surprise) - obviously none of them worked out because he’s now in therapy for his intimacy issues, but still

needless to say, they messed him up pretty bad

see, his problem was (and you probably wouldn’t be able to guess it after looking at him) the fact that he… fell in love too hard and way too fast.

his first one was in high school - he was pretty much ready to marry this girl and even gave her a promise ring to which she freaked out and broke up with him on the spot 

(she said she felt that it would be better if they broke up since they were both going off to different universities and long distance relationships were tough)

(on the same day they broke up she immediately changed her facebook status back to single which yoongi thought was a pretty icy thing to do)

his second one was in his first year of university (not very long after the high school breakup because that’s how desperate he was to fall in love again) and he wasn’t super sure if he loved this person or if he just wanted to fill the empty void inside of him bUT after two months of dating yoongi asked them if they wanted to move into the same dorm together for the second semester of first year - they said no. 

and then they broke up with him. 

and yoongi ended up with a single-person dorm, which was great!

:D because it meant no one could hear him crying himself to sleep at night worrying that he would never find true love and that no one would ever love him :D

and finally, with his last relationship, he told [unnamed person because yoongi would like to keep that private, thank you very much] that he loved them, like, two weeks after they’d started properly dating (they’d known each other for a year before getting together so yoongi didn’t think it was that weird. it’s not that weird, right??)

long story short, they didn’t say it back, and instead responded with: “oh! thank… you?” and that was a pretty devastating (and humiliating) blow for yoongi and it was after that breakup that he decided that things just had to change

he couldn’t be this person for the rest of his life!

this pathetic wimpy shrimPY little ‘<3 i love you <3’ weak-ass PUNK

eventually he figured that if he just turned all his emotions off, he wouldn’t run into anymore issues

it’s like that saying mo’ money mo’ problems except in this case it would be less emotions less problems

and he thinks it’s been working out pretty well for him so far!

he’s never gotten attached to any of his one-night stands (although he can’t say the same for them, because c’mon - he’s an absolute catch)

and he kind of takes pleasure knowing that they want to have something more with him when he doesn’t want anything at all

he likes playing with feelings

it’s like dangling a piece of candy over a little baby

it’s fun!

…does that make him a twisted individual? 

is he going to go to hell for being a little emotionally manipulative?

also he always finds himself snickering whenever one of his friends started talking about how much they love (gags) their significant others

even the one who sent him here - she just started dating someone in her apartment building - is fully in love with her significant other (he might even go as far to say it was love at first sight for the both of them (double gag)) and sometimes yoongi has to shove a croissant into her mouth just to get her to stop blabbing about how fond she is of her boyfriend

after all this time, yoongi has finally figured out that love is merely a concept

it’s not real!

it’s an idea. 

love is not real.

so, again - yoongi genuinely doesn’t see the issue with being emotionally unavailable. 

this isn’t just him being stubborn or anything - he literally cannot come up with one single reason as to why being emotionally constipated is such a bad thing 

real life constipation is pretty bad but emotional constipation is totally fine! 

emotions make everything that much more difficult and he doesn’t have the time nor the energy to deal with it

being emotionally unavailable makes life easy, breezy AND beautiful!

...

of course, there is the one slight issue that sometimes pops into his mind

is he okay with being like this for the rest of his life?

because if he is, he’s… literally going to die alone.

sure, his friends will be there (unless they die before him, in which case he’s actually going to be alone), but even yoongi has to admit that platonic companionship and romantic companionship are two entirely different things 

is he truly incapable of falling in love with someone? 

he... doesn’t like thinking about that

he prefers to keep those gloomy thoughts tucked away in the dusty basement of his brain

he’d much rather think about-

“yoongi!” you greet as enthusiastically as always as yoongi rounds the corner, “have fun today?”

fun?

in therapy?

that’s hilarious.

“fun? oh, yeah.” yoongi snorts as he folds his arms up on the countertop, “i even got to talk to rory today.”

the two of you exchange knowing glances and you snort before quickly reaching up to clap a hand over your mouth

hey! 

you’re supposed to be supportive of rory’s role in therapy!

he has a very important job

one might say that his job of providing emotional support is far more important that yours, you measly little receptionist

you make appointments all day but rory saves lives 

“well, i’m… glad that rory is helping you during these trying times.” you clear your throat as you straighten up in your seat

if you get caught making fun of rory you’re dead meat

“mhm.” yoongi nods before leaning over a little, “now gimme a kiss, babe.”

your heart skips a beat in your chest and you can’t help but grin when yoongi turns his head and points to his cheek, “well?”

“milk chocolate caramel this week, babe.” you hum as you place the little gumball machine in front of him

“ooh, yummy-“ yoongi’s eyes widen in excitement as he cranks the metal knob, “so, you got any plans tonight?”

a single kiss plops out and he opens up the little metal flap to take it out

“eh, i mean i guess i do?” you shift in your seat before shrugging, “sort of.”

yoongi raises a brow as he unwraps the tin foil, “what’s that supposed to mean? you got a hot date or something?”

“...yep!”

wait what

yoongi pauses right as he’s about to pop the chocolate into his mouth

because he was… just kidding about that

that was supposed to be a joke

“oh!” yoongi clears his throat, “well, who- who are you… who are you going out with? tell me about them.”

“oh, you don’t wanna-” you shake your head, “the details are boring, i promise it’s nothing to geek out over-”

“no, c’mon! tell me.” yoongi shoves the wrapping into his mouth as the chocolate melts over his tongue, “give me the deets.”

“alright, well…” you reach up to push your glasses up, “i actually met him at the club that he works at! he’s a bartender. we’ve gone out on a couple of dates and he’s really nice! he’s super nice, i just- i don’t know. i guess i just- there’s not much of a spark, you know? he’s taken me out four times and he kissed me on the last one and it was nice but… i don’t know. i’m not sure i even know where i’m going with this story- b-but he’s nice!”

yoongi nods slowly as he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek

ah

well

good for you!

whatever

you’re going on a date and it’s whatever

it’s not like he cares

because if he cared it would imply that he has feelings for you

and in case it wasn’t already clear, yoongi is incapable of having any feelings at all because that’s just who he is

he’s spent years building his status as an emotionless android and he’s not going to let a stinky girl like you ruin it (you are not stinky. you smell like pears and it’s very pleasing to his nostrils. and he hates that he spent thirty minutes at the drugstore sniffing multiple shampoos until he found the one that he’s pretty sure is the one you use. and now his pillows smell like you.) 

“nice, nice…” yoongi mutters under his breath, “anyways, i should, um, probably go! i’m like, two minutes away from getting a parking ticket-” he laughs nervously before reaching up to scratch the back of his head

“oh! okay, yeah-” you take the gumball machine down and set it back down next to your monitor, “are you- is everything okay?”

yoongi’s no longer looking at you and you’re usually the first one to break eye contact so this is… odd  

“yeah, i just- i remembered i had a thing, so-” yoongi coughs into his fist, “yeah, i gotta go.”

“should i- should i put you down for next week, or-” you get up from your seat quickly when yoongi basically sprints towards the elevators

“yeah!” he flicks his wrist at you, “um, yeah- go for it. i’m just gonna-”

ding!

the elevator doors slide open and yoongi rushes in at the speed of light

“s-same time, or-”

the door glide shut before you get a chance to finish asking your question and you can’t help but feel a little… rejected?

even though you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re being rejected by

that was weird

that was weird, right?

it’s not just your imagination?

you frown to yourself as you plop back down on your squeaky chair

maybe your chocolates tasted funky or something?

you unwrap one for yourself before popping it into your mouth

…

no, the chocolates are fine!

what went wrong?

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you quickly go through what just happened

everything was fine

everything was normal up until the point you said you were going out on a date…

oOh, maybe you shouldn’t have brought up dates or anything like that

you don’t know too much about yoongi’s sessions besides the fact that he has intimacy issues but maybe the subject of dating was triggering for him?

damnit

you idiot!

this is why you could never be a therapist because you’d probably end up traumatizing your patients instead of helping them 

you should’ve just told yoongi that your plans tonight involved NO dating and it was just going to be you going to town on a pizza at home

it’s too bad

you were kind of hoping the reason why he started acting so weirdly was because he didn’t want you to go out on a date

here’s the thing: 

you… you sort of… have a little crush on yoongi. at least, you think you do.

you can’t help it!

he’s surprisingly very sweet and he has that boyish charm that you’re really into anD he’s also super goofy AND hello!!!! even when you’re not wearing your glasses you can see that he’s really attractive!!!

sometimes you find yourself daydreaming about that smirk of his 

it just makes you feel tingly 

...

what were you talking about again?

oh

right! 

you’re pretty sure the two of you use the same shampoo and you don’t want to be that person but... 

match made in heaven? 

you’d like to think so. 

you just don’t want to ruin this super fun and bantery and also kind of flirty relationship you have with him (though, now that you’re thinking about it, you can’t help but wonder if it’s actual flirting or if yoongi’s just doing his thing) and you knoW he’s definitely going to freak out if you’re suddenly like hey,.,. do u,.,. maybe wanna go out on a date or something.,,. because i think i have a teeny crush on you because even though you’re dead on the inside you are OBSCENELY charming and witty and attractive and everything i want in a significant other,.,.

yoongi would run for the hills if he ever found out you felt that way about him!

“good going, y/n.” you grumble to yourself as you lean back against your chair

well

you can worry about your yoongi-related issues later

you have a date with a cute bartender to get to

a cute, very nice bartender

                                                                 ♡

yoongi’s jealous.

at least, he thinks he’s jealous

this is weird, right?

because yoongi doesn’t get jealous!

he doesn’t get jealous over anything so whY does he not like the idea of you going out with someone who isn’t him?

yoongi squeezes his fingers tighter around his steering wheel as he stares ahead with knitted brows

he left the office like half an hour ago and now he’s just been sitting in his car in silence

and before you ask, yes, there was a parking ticket tucked behind his windshield wiper when he came down here

“jealous, jealous…” yoongi mutters to himself before shaking his head and letting out a huff, “no. i’m not jealous. i’m not!”

he’s not jealous because he doesn’t like you!

he doesn’t!

he likes flirting with you, it doesn’t mean that he likes you

of course, if he didn’t like you… he wouldn’t be grinning like an idiot every time you greet him

if he didn’t like you, he would’ve called you out on your lame ‘you want a kiss?’ joke a long, lonG time ago - instead he just lets you keep saying it because he knows you like making the same joke over and over again

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be coming back to therapy every week, for crying out loud

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have bought pear-scented shampoo for himself

he should be buying manly shampoos!

like… winter breeze!

or… musky oak??

or diRTy monster truck??!? (he’s not sure if that’s an actual shampoo scent for men, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was)

you know, those kinds of scents!

not frickin pear

yoongi pauses when he realises that he actually doesn’t mind the thought of waking up next to you

he feels his heart skip a beat and he gasps in surprise before quickly slapping his hand up against his chest

oh god

it’s happening!

“…son of a bitch!” yoongi groans as he slams his head back against the headrest, “are you kidding me?!”

he’s feeling!

NO!!!!

that, or he’s having a heart attack

(he’d rather have the heart attack.)

yoongi turns his head right as you exit the building and he doesn’t know where these emotions are coming from but all of a sudden he’s being flooded with what can only be describe as…

pure, blinding rage

“what the hell did you put in those damn chocolates?!” yoongi slams the car door behind him and you practically leap ten feet into the air

“i have no money in my wallet i only have a starbucks gift card and it has like three dollars left on- oh.” you immediately relax when you realize that you’re not about to be robbed

it’s just yoongi 

your eyes widen in slight fear when you see him storm his way over to you with his fists clenched at his sides looking like he wants to skin you alive

“you are unbelievable.”

“me??” you shake your head in confusion, “yoongi, what are you-” you pause to glance down at your watch, “why are you still here? you left, like, forty minutes ago-”

“answer the question, y/n!“ yoongi crosses his arms, “you did something to those chocolates! that’s the only reason why i’m feeling like this-”

“what- i don’t- is it your stomach or something?? maybe you’re lactose intolerant-”

“nO, i don’t mean i physically feel something-“ yoongi looks around before leaning in, “i’m feeling something.”

you frown

“yoongi, the chocolates aren’t special chocolates, if that’s what you’re implying. there are kids that come to the office, i can’t go around giving out marijuana infused hershey kisses-”

“i don’t want you to go out with your nice bartender guy!” yoongi blurts out, “because i… i want you to go out with me instead.”

you pull back in surprise before tilting your head curiously

…what?

“what do you- what are- what?” you ask incredulously before narrowing your eyes at him

did he just... ask you out?

yoongi swallows nervously

his pure rage has now been replaced by pure anxiety

“i’m saying that i-” yoongi shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “i’m- i wanna be the one to take you out. o-on a date. or whatever they’re called.”

“you wanna take me out on a date?” you ask dumbly and yoongi rolls his eyes

“a.. i mean i guess it’s technically a da..ate...” yoongi’s mouth goes dry and you can see the panic quickly filling his pretty brown eyes 

“we don’t- we don’t have to call it a date!” you perk up, “we can just... we can call it a... flirty hangout!” 

“a flirty hangout?”

“a flangout.”

“a flangout.”

yoongi takes a second to think it over

a flangout

yeah!

he can do a flangout because a flangout is noT a date 

“i’m sorry, i just-” you wave a hand in front of yourself, “i thought your whole schtick was that you didn’t believe in dates- flangouts- and ooey-gooey holding hands related situations, so why would you wanna-”

“because i like you!” yoongi groans before looking away from you and running a hand through his hair, “i think? i don’t know, okay? i know that i’m definitely attracted to- i just- you make me- i like talking to you after my sessions are over, and i like that you keep a gumball machine on your desk even though it still doesn’t make sense to me that you’ve filled it with kisses and not with actual gumballs, and i like that even though you know i, professionally speaking, have very intense intimacy issues, i-i like that you don’t judge me for it...” he trails off before letting out a breath and turning back to face you, “you can say no, obviously, but… i just think you’re really pretty and i think you know exactly what you’re doing whenever you ask me if i want a kiss.”  

you blink owlishly at yoongi and he immediately feels like he’s about to projectile vomit everywhere

see??

this is exactly what he means when he says that feelings make literally everything ten times more complicated

he just told you that he likes you and now he just made things awkward!

which means noW he has to go find a new therapist-

wait, no

nope! he’s not going to find another therapist - he’s just going to noT go to therapy

why?

because min frickin’ yoongi doesn’t need therapy-

“i do.” yoongi looks at you with wide eyes when you suddenly speak up

you do

did… did he PROPOSE to you?!

great!!

of course he did!!

his feelings are back and they’re even worse than before-

“i do know exactly what i’m doing whenever i ask you if you wanna kiss-“ you hold up a finger to correct yourself, “if you want a kiss.”

“i’m happy with either one of those options-“

“there is one minor issue, though.” you turn your phone around to show yoongi, “what am i supposed to tell sweet tae?”

“who the hell is tae- ohhhh, bartender guy.” yoongi winces as he glances at your texts briefly, “i forgot about him.”

“nice bartender guy!!” you push your bottom lip out in a pout as you scroll through your texts with taehyung

:-(

his last message to you was ‘excited for tonight!! see you soon :-)’

:-(((((((

“do you… do you genuinely like him?” yoongi asks cautiously

“i mean, i- i don’t noT like him, you know?” you sigh and reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “it’s just that… he’s so nice-”

“okay, i think we’ve got that part covered-”

“i don’t wanna break his heart!!” you whine, “what do i do?!”

“alright, here’s what you’re going to do-” yoongi clears his throat, “you go out with him tonight-”

“but i don’t want to lead him o-” 

“you go out with nice bartender tae tonight to tell him that it’s over. and you tell him that you’ve really enjoying spending time with him, but you feel like the two of you would be better off as friends. it’s simple, it’s clean, it’s straight to the point! no harm, no foul.” yoongi dusts his hands off before smiling proudly, “and then i’ll take you to the mcdonalds drive-thru for dessert.”

“i mean, i guess so…” you purse your lips in thought, “should i, like… if he kisses me or something, should i kiss him back?”

“you’re going to pity-kiss him?” yoongi gasps dramatically before tutting at you, “wow. and i’m the one in therapy.”

“wha-”

“now, c’mon-” yoongi places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, “let me drive you to your gross date so that we can go on our cool flangout afterwards-”

“you know, they’re doing a limited edition chips ahoy mcflurry right now-“ you grin excitedly as yoongi opens the door for you, “you wanna split one with me?”

“split one?” yoongi scoffs and bends down a little so he can look you directly in the eye, the corner of his mouth curling upwards in a teasing smirk, “baby, i’ll get you your very own mcflurry-”

(it turns out that taehyung actually planned to end things tonight, too - he said if you ever made your way back to his bar he’d give you a cocktail on the house! so, it looks like you can have your cake and eat it too.) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Eleven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: first chapter after acosf!! im sorry for how short this one is, but acosf wrecked me and writing this put me back together. i hope it does something similar for you ❤️

***

“You say you’ve been doing better lately?”

The therapist’s office is plain, a little gloomy, but big windows overlook the center of town that make Nesta feel less suffocated.

She nods, “Yeah.”

“How would you describe ‘better’?” Dr. Bond— Lana, she insists on being called— has been endlessly patient with Nesta’s non-answers so far. Nesta almost feels bad and decides to throw the woman a rope.

“I’m not alone anymore,” she says. “I used to be alone all the time, but now I have friends, sort of… and a boyfriend.” She still loves that word. It’s never tasted so exciting before.

“You were always alone before this, then? Or were there just people that you didn’t consider noteworthy?”

A scowl rises to Nesta’s mouth. Damn, she works quick. “I was raised with two sisters in a one-bedroom apartment. I never got to be alone, but then I grew up, and…” Her mind wants to skip over the time she spent in college. “For the last couple of years, I holed up in my own place. Never wanted to talk to anybody or see them. If people took an interest in me, I shut them down because I didn’t have an interest in them.”

“You missed a few years,” Lana notes.

“What?”

“You’re twenty-four, and you moved out at eighteen. Where were you before getting your own place?”

Numbness seeps through Nesta at the question. She knows she can ask Lana to change the topic, but that will only bring it back later. “I had a boyfriend in college,” she says flatly. “I lived with him for a few years, but like you said, it isn’t noteworthy.”

“As a fellow lone wolf, I disagree.” Lana’s clinical polite face is unchanging. “Any person who you trust enough to let into your life is noteworthy.”

Nesta says nothing.

“I’m interested in these people you’ve chosen to trust,” her therapist continues after a beat of silence. “Why don’t we start with whoever you trust most?”

Nesta snorts. This she can talk about.

“His name is Cassian. I’ve been living with him ever since my apartment got flooded a couple of months ago, and he’s always been a good friend to me.” She sits there, thinking about what else to say. “I think I like him more than I’ve ever liked anybody.”

“This is the new boyfriend?”

Nesta nods.

“Do you compare him to the old one?”

Nesta doesn’t know what this lady’s angle is, but she answers carefully, “I used to. Back when I first moved in. I haven’t done it in a long time, though.”

“Why not?”

The answer is simple. “There’s no need to. He’s not comparable to anybody.”

“Is that why you opened up to him after two years of self-imposed isolation?”

Nesta looks away. “It wasn’t isolation,” she defends. “It’s just… after a lifetime of being subjected to the gaze of strangers, I wanted to hide. I liked hiding.” Mostly.

“What does that mean, the gaze of strangers?”

Question after cool question, this one. Nesta struggles to find a proper answer.

“You know how,” she starts slowly, “as soon as you start school, you’re placed into this bubble with a bunch of people who don’t know you and have no reason to care about you? There’s a shift in how you view people, and how people view you. And I thought I could leave it behind once I graduated high school, but it followed me to college and to parties and into everyday interactions.”

“What is it?”

“It’s this—” Nesta waves her hands, “judgment. It’s that thing you do as soon as you meet someone, and you try to determine whether they’re worth your time or not. Whether they’re above or below you in this made-up social hierarchy in your head.”

“Explain that more,” Lana says.

“We want to hang around people we find cool. And when we meet someone new, we inspect them, look them up and down, to see if they fit our definition of cool. We take them apart. Everyone does it, even you. And with me,” she shrugs, “I’m pretty, I wear the right clothes, I do my makeup. So at first glance, people think, ‘Oh, I can see myself getting to know her better. I can see myself liking her.’ But then they take a closer look at me, and it’s like…” Her fingers flutter in the air, trying to support her thoughts. “I can see their minds changing. ‘Nevermind, I was wrong. Nevermind, there’s something off with her. She’s a little quiet, a little weird, a little bitchy.’”

Lana narrows her eyes. “And Cassian doesn’t look at you like that?”

Nesta looks away. “He doesn’t look at anyone like that.”

It’s what used to make her so uncomfortable about him. She was incapable of fathoming his honesty, his genuineness, his kindness. She thought he was even weirder than her for it— she placed him beneath her on her social hierarchy for it.

Lana frowns thoughtfully. “And now you two live together?”

Nesta nods, then shrugs. “For the next twenty-four hours, we do. He’s helping me move back into my old place.”

Because that was another conversation she and Cassian had on Thanksgiving night. It was a long time coming, but also the perfect time.

“You’re saying your apartment has been ready for weeks? Why are you just telling me now?”

Nesta pillowed her face on his chest, not as upset at revealing the news as she would have been some days ago. “Because I was scared that if I moved out, I would lose my friendship with you.”

“That never would have happened—”

“We wouldn’t see each other every day anymore. Even if we didn’t go back to being complete strangers, the closeness would be lost.”

“You must not know me, then. I would’ve texted you every fucking hour. You’d never hear the end of me.”

“I couldn’t guarantee that back then.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I can now.” She crawled higher up his body, lowering her voice to a secretive pitch. “Want to know why?”

“Why?” he whispered.

“Because you’re mine now. And that’s what I was waiting for while I made Lorene hold that shitty empty apartment for me. I was waiting for a catalyst, a revelation.” She pressed a kiss to his sternum. “And I most definitely got it.” The pleasant ache between her legs was proof enough. “Also,” she added, “it would be weird if you lived with your girlfriend before even having a first date with her.”

Cassian huffed a laugh. “You have a point there. We have been moving backwards, haven’t we?”

Nesta nodded into his skin.

He got a little quiet. “Still,” he said after a moment. “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll see me every day. I’ll be fifteen minutes away.”

“I’ll still miss you.”

“I know.”

“What does talking about guys have to do with my therapy?” Nesta squirms, getting restless with the topic.

“Lots of things,” Lana says, putting down her notepad. “It gets you comfortable with expressing your feelings to me, and it teaches me about how you view the world. Besides, therapy isn’t just a rehashing of past traumas, you know. We can talk about whatever you want here, especially if it makes you feel good.”

“Well, I want to talk about something else.” She’s not spending this much money by the hour just to talk about how much she likes Cassian— she can go to Cassian for that for free.

“Like what?” Lana asks smoothly.

She’s offering an opening, finally, to the real reason that Nesta’s here.

Nesta pulls at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, wondering where to start. “I feel like I’ve been growing up lately,” she says carefully. “I have all these new people in my life to be responsible for, and I’m— I want to do it right. But I’m worried I won’t have room for new things until I pack up some of my old shit, so that’s why I’m here, I guess. I don’t want to hold on to all of my old shit anymore.”

At Lana’s encouraging silence, she continues, “I spent my whole life stuck in a suffocating town, and as soon as I left, I got stuck in a relationship. By the time I knew what freedom felt like, I— I’d been left behind. Everyone I knew was moving onto bigger things and all I had was this shitbag of a past. So I got a new place and started law school and called it a fresh start, but now I’m here and I’m not sure if I ever got better.”

She takes a sharp breath after everything that’s spilled.

Lana purses her lips, letting the room absorb Nesta’s words. After a long moment, she says, “Just because bad things stop happening to someone, doesn’t mean they instantly get better. It’s a good thing that you’re recognizing that before stepping into new relationships, Nesta.”

Lana glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today, but this was a productive first session.” She offers a small smile. “Same time next week?” She says it as if it isn’t already a done deal.

Nesta nods gratefully anyway, unable to say anything else. As soon as she’s out the door, a pent-up sigh escapes her. That wasn’t so bad.

***

Later that night, Nesta doesn’t miss Cassian’s wistful stare as he takes down the painting he got her from the fall festival. Nor does she miss how slowly he packs it away.

Once the bedroom she made her home is as sparse as the day she moved in, all her things packed away neatly in boxes, Nesta wraps her arms around Cassian and pulls him to the bed. There, she lets him hold her close, their breaths and limbs intertwining as they lie in thoughtful silence.

“I can’t believe I’ll never see this room again,” Nesta says quietly.

Cassian’s eyes widen in alarm. “What do you mean, never again?”

“I’ll be staying in your room whenever I visit, remember?” Her underwear already occupies a drawer in his closet.

Cassian visibly relaxes when he remembers, then smiles. “Right. Of course.”

She lets herself sink deeper into his embrace. “I just realized you’ve never seen my apartment before.” He was waiting at the front door of Lorene’s place while Nesta collected her things all those weeks ago, but she cringes at the thought of him visiting now. The clear wealth gap between her and Cassian doesn’t usually show, but it’ll be undeniable with the cramped room she calls an apartment. “Maybe it’s best if I move back in without your help. There might not even be space there for your huge body.”

“Sounds more appealing by the minute.” He’s not joking. He tilts up Nesta’s chin so she’s forced to meet his eyes. “I can’t wait to start partaking in your life the way you took over mine. Spending nights at your place, meeting your friends, riding in your car instead of mine.”

Nesta swallows.

“I’m gonna miss you like hell, but it’ll be for the best.”

He’s right: this is what’s best for their budding relationship right now. Moving out, creating even a little bit of distance— all of it is so they can finally learn each other as lovers instead of roommates. So when they do come back together, which Nesta firmly believes they will, it’ll be stronger than ever before.

Some of their shared sadness flits away at the truth of it. She only places her hand on his cheek, content to appreciate this view— this beautiful, hazel-shaded view— without further chitchat or goodbyes.

Cassian is not as fond of the silence. “I need to tell you something,” he says seriously after a few minutes.

After only a handful of days dating Cassian, Nesta knows what he’s going to say. “Don’t,” she warns, unamused.

He grins conspiratorially and leans in even closer, until their mouths are almost brushing. “You’re my everything, Nesta.”

“Oh my god, stop it.” She squirms out of his hold and gets up, tossing the blankets off herself.

“No, come back!” He makes a grab for her sleeve. “We have to use the bed one last time—”

But she’s already running off.

***

Cassian carefully arranges the canvas painting on the wall, taking a step back to determine if it’s hanging straight. The ruby and amber leaves of the landscape stand out against the dull teal walls of Nesta’s basement apartment, but he’s just getting started.

The rest of Nesta’s things are half-unpacked from their cardboard boxes, but instead of going for the important shit first, he finds the box he specifically marked FAVES in bold letters the night before.

While Nesta wrangles to get her clothes back into her old closet in the background, Cassian crouches and rips open the small box. There, lying atop his girlfriend’s favorite trinkets and personal items, is the framed photo he snuck in without her noticing.

It’s of the two of them at the fall festival, taken mere hours before their first kiss. Nesta is pressed up close to Cassian (her excuse being that it was cold), and a genuine light fills her eyes, one that Cassian never thought he’d be able to capture on camera. Cassian himself isn’t looking at the camera, but down at Nesta with wind-flushed cheeks and a distant smile. Making sure she’s having a good time, that she truly wants to be there with him in that moment.

He never realized how close they looked in that picture until he had it printed and framed, not long after Nesta announced she was moving out. He can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner.

Standing up, he places the photo on Nesta’s wooden dresser. Nesta still has her head in the closet, moving things around, but Cassian makes no announcement of his gift to her. She’ll notice it sooner or later.

He clears his throat. “Wanna take a break and order Chinese?”

Nesta pops her head out of the closet, her ponytail ruffled and eyes narrowed at him. “Have you even been helping this whole time?”

“Standing here and looking pretty is harder than it seems, but I don’t expect any credit from you,” he jokes. “Just let me buy you lunch.”

Nesta grumbles something he chooses not to hear, but straightens up and rubs her spine with a wince. “I need a fucking chiropractor,” she mutters.

Guilt shoots through Cassian at that small wince, and he resolves to finish organizing Nesta’s closet for her before the day is over. Nesta goes on, “So? Still determined to split your time between here and the cabin?” She gestures to the apartment with an arm.

It’s really just a glorified single room, with a rusty kitchenette in the corner, a hallway near the stairs that holds the bathroom, and Nesta’s bed pushed against one wall. It’s nothing special, but Cassian loves it. Mostly because he can already envision each new nook and cranny to take Nesta against, and how he wants to wake up in that too-small bed on days that he’s too lazy to drive home.

“It’s perfect,” he says simply. Thank you for sharing your home with me, is what he really means. Speaking of homes—

Cassian digs around in his pocket, finding and pulling out a newly-minted silver key. “I almost forgot to give you this.”

Nesta frowns, coming forward to take the key from him. He uses the closeness as an excuse to wrap his arms around her waist while she inspects the object.

She glances up at him, eyes softer than they were a moment ago, lips slightly parted. “You’re giving me a key to the cabin?”

He shrugs casually. “You should’ve gotten one a long time ago.” She used either Cassian’s key or the spare while she lived there.

Her mouth is still open, and she closes it once, twice, before finally saying, “I don’t have a key to my place for you.”

“But I can get one,” she adds quickly. “If you want it, that is.”

Of course he wants it, but he keeps his face carefully neutral. “Only if you want me to have one. We’re still new, and this is your personal space.” He emphasizes your.

Nesta purses her lips, then says, “I’ll think about it.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief— relief that Nesta is being honest with him instead of doing something she isn’t yet ready for. He’ll take her honesty over an apartment key any day.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he smiles brightly and shoves her toward the bed. “If we’re getting dumplings again then you can’t steal mine.”

***

a/n: fair warning that ive never been to therapy, but in stories therapists are usually a mode for character exploration and development, which is what nesta's therapy will be for.

also im so glad i got to meet gwyn in acosf and im so excited to introduce her into this fic too!! if you have ideas for her origin story feel free to share because nothing is planned yet

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @swankii-art-teacher

[pretoriafics]

Therapy sessions with the devil

I'd did this request yesterday on my Portuguese blog, and I thought that you guys would love it!

Anonymous asks: Y/N is a therapist who works for Vought and is doing a few evaluations on the Super.

Word count: 1.806 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mention of sexual violence, mention of serial killers, mention of cases of children with psychopathy, mental disorders. +16 only Versão em português aqui  PART 2 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

Your profession was gratifying.

You loved the idea of helping people, getting to know each other better, and getting them to learn to deal with life's challenges. For you, being a kind of "confidant", where people could talk about their lives without any judgments, was an honor and your purpose. You believed that it would make the world a better place.

However, it also had its burdens. Some things were difficult to hear, even for you with all your knowledge and professional background. Patients who suffered from sexual violence, for example, demanded of you a stomach that you were not always able to have. It was something you talked to your therapist about, and you kept a mantra in mind: After all, you were still human, and it was okay to feel that way.

And when Vought invited you to work as a therapist for The Seven, you went nuts. It was the chance of a lifetime!

Or, at least, this was what you thought at the beginning.

It was not uncommon for you to hear things that made your stomach a little sick, just like when The Deep told you about the way he “welcomed” Starlight. You felt nauseous but, on the outside, remained impassive, just watching him as a silent request to continue to talk.

All of them were, simply, not only media products but also puppets of the advertising world. You already had some political patients, and in fact, you thought The Seven was a similar case: Both went to that market with the intention, many times, to help people. However, they ended up corrupted in the middle of the road, forgetting their whole purpose in helping others.

You saw a point in common between The Seven: Everyone, with perhaps the exception of Starlight, was too worried about their own egos to be real heroes. They were all too narcissistic.

But Homelander was the worst of them.

The childhood phase was the most important part of a person's life. A traumatic childhood could lead to a troubled adult, as in the case of Mary Bell and Beth Thomas. Homelander's case was no different: his non-affectionate childhood, being raised as a laboratory rat, was the bigger reason to make him that kind of man.

Although at the same time you were fascinated about to study a mind like that - since one of the reasons why you did psychology would be to unveil the secrets of the human mind - each therapy session was daunting and made you rethink your job at Vought.

In short, you were interviewing a serial killer. Easily one of the most cruel and unhealthy.

"Good morning, Homelander." Your voice was soft, just like the smile you gave to the super who just sat on the couch.

"Good morning, Doctor." He returned the smile to you, but the smile on his own way: The corners of your mouth pulled to the side in a smile that you recognized as fake.

"So..." You put your hands on your knee, looking at him with the best receptive look you could pretend. There, in that office, your sessions with Homelander made you feel you deserved an Oscar "How was your week?"

“Well…” He lay down on the couch, his blue eyes staring at the ceiling, and his hands joined in front of his stomach “Nothing new. In fact, he had a little incident with Maeve. Sometimes she is so… pathetic. ”

"What happened?"

It took a while for Homelander to actually get some confidence in you. In fact, he only started telling you things in detail when he realized he could get something out of the sessions. They were productive to him, they made him think. You didn't know if you were thanking God for getting something out of him, or if you should cursing yourself because of the horrors he tells you.

"Maybe you saw something about the 37 Flight on the news."

"The one who had been captured by the terrorists?"

"Exactly! Maeve and I had to rescue the plane. We managed to take down the terrorists, but when I killed the last one, in the Pilot's cabin, I hit the plane's controls with the lasers. And then, the flight was doomed. I told Maeve that our job was done and we should leave, but she was reluctant. He wanted me to save the passengers! ” He laughed, but a natural one. "Can you believe that?"

Oh, it was going to be a long therapy session...

"And what happened next?"

“What did she want me to do? That I fly 137 times from the plane to land? Ah, pathetic, pathetic! ” He shook his head, clearly humorous. "Now, just imagine: You are on a flight with 137 people shouting 'Help, Homelander!', While your stupid partner insists that you should do something to save everyone. I was losing patience so I threatened everyone with my eyes, and they finally settled down. I don't blame them, I mean, they are so vulnerable. They are bugs! ” He looked at you, the corners of his mouth pulled in a fake smile. "No offense."

Homelander was a cold-blooded killer. Not only, but like Ted Bundy, he was a narcissist. He liked the feeling of power that invaded his body when he saw that people feared him, and when he felt that he had the power to decide whether that person would live or not. He didn't mind if killing people just for fun was against the law. Homelander didn't care about the law or any kind of rules. Furthermore, just as Bundy believed he was fully capable of defending himself in his court's judgment and did not need lawyers, Homelander thought he was an incarnate God walking among the 'bugs', simply because he had powers.

"And how do you feel about Maeve?"

“She bothered me a little with the drama on the plane, but that's okay. I am sure that after I spoke to the journalists, near the wreckage of the flight, she understood. This is all going to be an excellent opportunity to make our presence in the army happen. ”

A sociopath.

Empathetic behaviors aren't part of him. He was unable to have that feeling. Self-centered, Homelander was unable to love. The relationship he had with Stiwell, for example, was far from loving. He didn't feel it, quite the opposite: Homelander had a feeling of possession with her. She was his, and nobody else's.

A doubt hammered in your head: Homelander was intending to drop the plane? Your stomach was upset, you felt bad about that therapy session. How could Vought leave someone like him in The Seven?

The answer was simple: They didn't care. Homelander was profitable, and that was all that mattered.

That was one of the times when you thanked God that Homelander was self-centered enough to lie on the couch and just think about your own life, instead of analyzing you and realizing that you were completely terrified. It was as if a misstep, a wrong word, was going to cost his life.

And you would end that today.

You conducted the therapy session normally. In the end, you shook hands with Homelander as you always did and closed the door. Tears invaded your face as you thought of each life that was lost in vain on that flight, and, worse, you were sure that Maeve would tell you about the flight at her therapy session, early next week. In an attempt to calm down, you took some coffee and sat down in front of your MacBook. There, sipping coffee, you wrote your resignation letter.

Alright. You were free.

Or at least this was what you thought.

 * * *

Another week has started, and the fact that you worked at Vought made you get a more comfortable office, in addition to increasing your service price. You were ending your day. Your last patient had left the office, and you were about to go home when you heard a familiar voice from your couch.

"I miss you in the tower."

Homelander looked at you with his pairs of sick blue eyes, his fake smile, and his murderous hands behind his body. He was standing next to the couch, and you felt your whole body freeze. A lump formed in your throat, and your hands vibrated in pure dread.

So he would kill you there? In your office?

Trying to take control of the situation, you faked a slight smile.

“Sorry, Homelander. I didn't saw you here. Need something?"

"Actually, I do." He started walking towards you slowly. "I didn't want to end our sessions, so I came to ask you what our new schedule is going to be."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I thought Vought was going to hire someone else to work with The Seven in my place."

“In fact, they put an incompetent in your place. I really prefer that we continue where we left off. ” He stopped in front of you with his smile, his eyes emanating pure insanity "I like our therapy sessions."

“I'm glad that you like my job and that you appreciate our results, Homelander” You gave him a smile, but inside you were still in pure dread “But I don't have appointments available. My schedule filled up easily after I came to this new office. ”

“Oh, but I'm sure you can fit me in your schedule. I can pay you well. ”

How to say no to Homelander without putting your life at risk?

You walked over to your tablet, on your desk. You took it in hand and slid your finger on the screen, analyzing awhile. You didn't need him to tell you that you would be paid well. In fact, you were fully aware of that. The point was that you could exchange all the money in the world to be at peace, without having to deal with Homelander. Without much choice, you concluded that you would reserve a single day for your therapy sessions with him. That way, your head wouldn't get so tired when you still had to deal with other patients.

“Are you available on Friday morning? At nine."

He nodded, giving the same smile he did when he achieved something. One of pure contentment.

"Of course!"

"Great so." You typed 'Homelander' in the space corresponding to the hour. You put the tablet down on the table, next to your MacBook “There, it's done. Friday, at nine in the morning. ”

“Ah, perfect! Thank you. Have a good night."

"Good night, Homelander."

He walked over to your balcony. With a jump, he flew through the sky. You lay on your couch, terrified. Would you never get rid of him?

All that was left for you now was to be the therapist of the incarnate Devil.

[jamaisvuandyou]

Now or Never: Part 2

Description: Based on THIS reaction, for Huening Kai. You break up with your ex when he tells you he doesn’t want to have kids, not knowing that you’re already pregnant. 

Part 1

Posted: 03/29/2021

WARNING: oh all sortz of angst

Angst: 1,801 words

A/N: By popular request (sort of)

“Do you want us to tell him?” Soobin asked, holding your hand.

You stared at the floor. “I don’t know.”

Yeonjun squeezed your other hand. “Well, when you do know, just tell us and we’ll comply.”

“He’s been a lot better, lately,” Soobin said quietly.

You breathed in, but couldn’t seem to breath out. Why did he have to do this to you? If it had been anything else, you probably could have forgiven him, but not when it came to your baby.

He didn’t want it.

He didn’t want her.

“But is that because he doesn’t get information about me, or because he’s actually getting better?” You asked.

They both looked uncertain.

“He asks if you’re okay now and then, usually if he sees Soobin texting. We only confirm that you’re okay. We won’t say anything else, and Beomgyu quickly changes the subject.” Yeonjun sighed. “But I don’t know what would happen if he found out he was having a daughter. It’s something I think we would have to ask his therapist about.”

“At least he doesn’t know where you live, now,” Soobin whispered. “That way if we do accidentally say anything, he can’t come and haunt your doorstep.”

“I do appreciate all that you two have done for me,” You said, shifting your gaze to the ceiling. “I still don’t understand why, though.”

“Because you deserve better,” Yeonjun answered, the same answer as always, with no further explanations. “We should get back soon, are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for coming to the appointment with me.”

“No problem,” Soobin answered, smiling softly. “You’re our friend, y/n.”

“Yeah...our friend,” Yeonjun echoed, but his tone was slightly different. He pet your head for a second--something you really normally didn’t care for but were used to him doing because he did it so often and it was like a nervous tick with him. “We’re here for you. Part of that is because he isn’t. Won’t be. Can’t be. And because...we think you’re in the right in this situation. We’ve made our amends with Kai, we had to, he’s our brother, but we still side with you.”

“Beomgyu and Taehyun, too,” Soobin added. “They just thought it was better if we limited who knew where you were and who talked to you.”

You nodded. You received texts now and then from the other two, especially Beomgyu because he was a talker, but Taehyung usually kept you apprised of how Hyuka was doing with his therapy sessions.

You didn’t want to shut the door completely. You didn’t want to shut the door, and make it so that your daughter never knew her father. But you kept it mostly closed, only open a crack.

The crack that let the other four through, but managed to keep your ex-boyfriend out.

You wouldn’t let him in, not until you felt secure and safe and knew that he was over you. Because lately...you thought about him, and it didn’t feel like affection. It felt like fleeting infatuation.

Lately, you recognized affection differently.

Your therapist was happy with your progress, and your ability to recognize the faults in the relationship you’d had with Huening Kai. The flags that had gone up, that made you know that the relationship wouldn’t have lasted.

She often asked you about Soobin and Yeonjun, but she didn’t say much when you spoke of them, just smiled and said you had a good support system.

You weren’t sure what she was hinting at, but you figured it was something you had to figure out.

The boys hugged you before they left, Soobin reminding you to text him if you needed anything.

Yeonjun hesitated, letting Soobin out ahead of him. “Hey, y/n...if he finds out we were visiting you today...can I at least tell him that the baby is healthy too?”

You nodded. “Don’t tell him it’s a girl, though. I’m not ready for him to have that information.”

He nodded, hugging you again and leaving.

You didn’t think that the mention of your baby would send Huening back over the edge.

But it did.

Beomgyu texted you saying he lost it, and that they were trying to find him again, and their company was taking action as well.

But he showed up at your workplace, and thankfully one of your coworkers knew the situation and saw him before he could find you--helping you explain to your boss and then sneaking you out a back way and into her car.

Yet, he still managed to catch up to you. You had decided to go to a cafe a little ways away from your new apartment, and suddenly he was sitting across from you.

You stared in horror, wondering how he found you. “You can’t be here.”

“I am. Besides, you let my bandmates visit you,” He replied, almost coldly. “And they aren’t even the father of your child.”

“But they respected my wishes, and didn’t lose their mind and stalk me,” You snapped in a whisper. “Go. Away. You’re going to lose your job if you keep acting out like this.”

“You think I care about my job?!”

“I think you should,” You replied quickly, before he could continue. “You lose this job and I promise you will never see this child. Now get out.”

A hand enclosed on Huening’s shoulder before he could reply.

Taehyun glared down at Huening. “Come on.”

Their manager was a foot behind him, looking stern.

“It’s my child, I have every right to know it!” Huening argued.

“Then act in a way fitting for someone with a child, and I’ll think about it,” You snapped. “But every second you defy my wishes makes the chances of you ever meeting this child dwindle into obscurity. So, get out.”

He stared at you. “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

“I can forgive you, but I can’t forget what you’ve done, and I won’t change my mind. We’re not right for each other, and you know that.”

“But Soobin and Yeonjun-hyung are?” He snapped.

You frowned. “Soobin and Yeonjun are my friends. They’ve been helping me, whereas you’ve only been causing me trouble. You showed up at my work, are you so thoughtless as to threaten my job?”

Taehyun tugged Huening Kai away. “Come on. Both of you are too upset to make any sort of productive conversation, and you have an appointment with your therapist.”

“No I don’t--”

“Yes you do. Manager-nim scheduled it on our way here.” Taehyun gave you an apologetic look and continued dragging Hyuka away.

But you no longer felt guilty about cutting him out. About trying to keep him away.

You scheduled your own appointment, and headed that way when she said she could get you in right away.

“He tracked you down?” She asked gently after you had told her everything that had happened that day. Including the conversation.

You nodded. “I don’t know how.”

“Maybe he followed his bandmates?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it,” You answered, sighing. “They’re beyond careful.”

“They care about you.”

“And I’m grateful, but...I don’t know how much longer I can rely on them. It’s causing too much trouble. I think...if I’m going to have him out of my life, I need to get rid of all of the things tying him to me.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Do you really want to do that?”

You sighed. “No. They’re really the only friends I have. I’m friendly with some of my coworkers, and you know the one basically adopted me as her work-daughter, so we’re a bit closer. But when I was dating...him...they were the only ones who I could talk to about it. And Soobin and I would talk about baking and we were always...friendly. Which was nice. It was nice being friends with them while dating him. But it’s just going to hurt everyone if I continue being friends with them.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded.

“Before you were dating Huening Kai, what brought you close enough to get to know him?”

You frowned a bit. “What?”

“How did you meet him?”

“They endorse one of the products that the company I work for produces, and I’m part of the marketing division. I was the one who got the deal, so I was there for their shoots. They started talking to me, and we got along well. I became the liaison, so if they ever wanted products, I would be the one to take them over.I’m pretty sure they started ordering one thing now and then just to tease me but then we all just sort of moved toward friendship.” You shrugged.

“Who talked to you the most? Who ordered the most?”

“Soobin ordered the most, he really liked the cookies we make, but it was almost always groups when I would get there. Sometimes it would just be Soobin, Yeonjun, and Huening, other times it would be Beomgyu, Huening, and Taehyun; Soobin, Beomgyu, and Yeonjun...usually three of them waiting for me.”

“Who were you most drawn to, initially?”

“Yeonjun, but mostly because he didn’t talk much around me. Then probably Beomgyu because he did talk to me. Soobin because we had a bit in common.”

She wrote a few things down. “Have you ever considered whether your attraction to Huening Kai was actually misplaced affection for one or more of the other boys?”

“What?” You laughed, a little incredulous, but also...nervous?

“It seems to me like you may have felt affection, but misplaced the affection as belonging to Huening when actually it belonged to someone else in his group. It’s mostly a theory, but there are some inklings that make me think it might be true. I want you to journal about your relationship with each member of the group, see if you find out anything about yourself when you finish.” She wrote it down on a separate paper and handed it over to you. “And then we’ll talk more. I’m not going to say that you handled today’s confrontation perfectly, but there are few that would. I am glad that you called and got in after that confrontation, though, and I think you’re making progress.”

You thanked her, and left.

And you wondered, as you journaled later, how you had managed to start dating Huening Kai, of all the members.

The most logical would actually have been Soobin...but Huening had asked you out. And you said yes. And maybe you got caught up in it so much….

You hugged yourself as you contemplated your difficult relationships with all of the boys, wondering if things would ever settle down. Wondering if you really would have to cut them all out to try and create some semblance of peace.

[barbarasbae]

Even in Hawkins- Nerves

Part 15 of Even in Hawkins 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: hospitals, call back/mentions of miscarraige, healing, Neil makes an appearance, complicated feelings are had ( they’re starting to figure their dynamics out)

Hi welcome to the literal 8th version of this chapter that I’ve written in the past...4 months? Finally finally happy with the final product. 

Billy was in the hospital for 5 more days, Max and Steve helping him practice walking. Y/n would help, but Max felt she needed to do it and Steve was stronger than Y/n, so it was probably for the best. “You’re doing great, Billy.” She called, the group turning around. His face was pink. “Do you need to slow down?” Max asked, concerned. “M’ fine.” He walked back to the room, Max trading her spot with Y/n. “Oof! Forgot how heavy you are.” She teased, Billy nipping her ear. She giggled, nudging him back. They helped him back in bed, the nurse on duty coming in to check on his stitches. Steve squeezed Y/n’s shoulder, bumping his nose against her ear. “You okay?”

“Yeah..just..nervous.” She admitted. “Why?”

“Just about..stuff. Like stitches and stairs.” She sat next to Billy, looking at the clock. Visiting hours were almost over. “Can you stay tonight?” Billy asked quietly, looking at his lap. “Sure. Something wrong?”

He shrugged, a mild pout on his face. She leaned in, Max and Steve starting to chatter about something. “It’s okay to be nervous.” She promised in a whisper, pressing her cheek against his, feeling heat flood his cheeks at the contact. “You embarrassed, silly?”

He grumbled, Y/n smiling. “Hey, do you think you two could give us a moment alone?” Y/n asked Max and Steve, nudging Billy. Both looking reluctant. “I’m really hungry actually. Could you go get me a sandwich or something?” Billy asked, taking the hint. The pair walked out, Steve looking a little flushed. Billy reached over, grabbing her closest hand.  Y/n rested her chin on his shoulder, poking his cheek with her nose. She felt the alpha let out a shuddering breath, laying back into the pillows. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He whimpered, turning his head. “I can’t-all those people. How can I just go home and act like nothing happened?” He asked in a whisper. Y/n was quiet. How can you? 

“I don’t know, B. I guess you’ll just have to try to live your best or something like that?” That made his mouth quirk in a little smile. “Or something.” His voice was small. Y/n found Billy was turning more and more inward, getting quieter and quieter. Very similar to how he was when he first woke up. This wouldn’t do, of course. The omega in Y/n was practically screaming for her to fix it. 

“Bill?”

“Hm?”

“Love you.” She told him softly, the blond giving her a brilliant smile. “Love you too.” She leaned back into him, Billy pulling her back into a hug, her nose pressed back into his hair. Billy pressed his nose into her scent gland, letting out a long sigh. 

“Can’t wait to scent you how I actually want to.” She murmured, feeling the tip of Billy’s nose rubbing along the curve of her neck and became extremely aware that the doctor was coming into the room. She pulled back gently. “No-” He whined, following her. 

“As much as I’m enjoying it, we have an audience.” She cooed, kissing him and helping him lay down. She sat next to him in a chair, a nurse walking over to check his vitals. Billy grabbed for her hand, the heart monitor speeding up. Y/n rubbed the inside of his palm, not wanting Billy to strain against his IV. 

“Hey William. How are you feeling today?” He shrugged. “Well, that’s better than a grunt I suppose.” The nurse took his temperature, Dr. Owens flipping through the file. “You walked earlier today?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good. I figured we’d discuss some of what you’ll need to do during recovery so check out on Friday can go faster.”

“I get to go home?” Dr. Owens nodded. “I have a list I’ll hand off to you but for now I’ll read you the most important ones. No getting stitches wet for at least another three weeks. You have to quit smoking. We can’t risk it with your weak lungs. No lifting anything heavy for at least 8 weeks and no driving heavy machinery for another 2. I want you to come see me once a week for therapy and at least another session once a week for physical therapy after your 8 weeks is up.” 

“Okay.” Billy’s voice was small. “This isn’t necessary, but I am going to recommend cutting your hair. 

“Doc, you gotta leave me with something.”

“Unless you have someone do it for you, because you strike me as someone who takes care of it, I recommend cutting it so you don’t have to worry about lifting your arms above your shoulder. Easy way to rip stitches.” Billy was getting upset. “We’ll figure something out.” Y/n promised, trying to reassure him. “Sandra here will tell you how to take care of your stitches. I’ll see you in the morning. Call if you need anything.”

“Would it be alright for me to stay here overnight?” The nurse nodded, going to get a special form for her. Steve and Max finally came back, passing out sandwiches. “You need me to get you anything?” The other omega asked before leaning his weight on the bed, eyes darting back and forth between the couple in front of him. “I think I’m okay for now. I’ll just go home in the morning for new clothes and stuff probably. You need anything, B?”

 “I’m good.” Steve handed Billy his sandwich, looking pleased with himself when the alpha took a bite. “Would it be alright if I hug you before I leave?” Steve asked, more so looking at Y/n then he was Billy. “Yeah. That would be nice.” The blond smiled. The older omega squeezed in tight, the slight scenting not going unnoticed by Y/n. “I feel like I need a hug as well.” She teased, scenting Steve as well, a little chirp escaping her at the wonderfully safe, warm and familiar scent of Steve. “Well now I’m a little jealous.” Billy teased, the omegas laughing. “Ready Max?”

“I don’t wanna goooo.” She whined, dragging herself over to the cot. “Love you Billy.” She mumbled, embracing him in a way that was less a hug and more max wilting into him. “Love you too, shitbird.” She stuck her tongue out, Steve having to drag her away. 

Y/n turned the tv on, the pair inhaling turkey sandwiches from the cafeteria. 

She felt Billy’s eyes on her, the omega leaning closer. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Did you ever go to the hospital after, you know?” 

“What?”

“The baby?” Billy whispered and suddenly the only noise in the room was the tv. “Oh.”

“...”

“Yeah, I did. That’s the only reason I knew it was...a miscarraige.” She told him softly, the alpha reaching for her hand. “I could have gone with you.” She shook her head. “It was just me and my mom. I was so scared, I wasn’t even thinking about trying to tell anyone else.” 

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand, Y/n wiping at her face. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie, Y/n.”

“I’m not. Promise,”

She slept curled in the recliner, waking up every time a nurse came to check on Billy.  Everyone continued to visit him throughout the week, the alpha forgetting to mention his impending release coming up. 

The morning of Billy’s last day in the hospital, Billy received a 5 page pamphlet of instructions as well as a non-disclosure agreement. Dr. Owens mentioned he should be getting a check in the mail in a few weeks and that he needed to come back Tuesday for his first physical therapy appointment. Then he was free to go. 

“Well, first day free. What do you want to do?” She asked the blond as they got on the road. “I want a burger.” 

“Okay, greasy burger coming up. It okay if we make a few more stops after?” He nodded, playing with one of the strings on his hoodie. 

 She pulled into the video store parking lot, Billy following behind her, tugging his sleeves down. She reached for his hand, the blond eagerly taking it. “Y/n?” Steve called from the counter, Robin flipping through a comic book. They came over. “Holy shit. Billy! Hey man!” He came around the counter and hugged the alpha, Billy hugging back tightly. Steve tried to be subtle about scenting him but failed pretty spectacularly, causing the other omega to laugh. Steve smiled sheepishly, blushing when Billy buried his face in Steve’s neck. “You’re not the only ones here, dinguses.” Robin chided, Steve yanking away. “I think I should get a hug too.” Y/n teased, Steve throwing his arms around her. “This okay?” He asked quietly, nosing at her scent gland.  “Oh-uh. y-yeah. Yeah it’s okay.” She hugged back tightly. “So what brings you here?”

“Movies.”

“Oh, right.” Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He hopped back over the counter, Robin rolling her eyes. Billy meandered, grabbing a couple movies. “Okay, that’s gonna be $4.79.” Steve chirped, smiling up at Billy. Y/n handed off a 5. “I don’t want any change.”

“Hold on.” He grabbed a couple candy bars. “$5 solid.” 

“Thanks, Stevie.” Billy piped up, reaching for Y/n’s hand. “No problem.”

“Steven, you’re drooling.” Robin sighed, closing the comic. “I am not!” 

Y/n smiled. “Wanna come over for movies tomorrow?” 

“Oh, sure.”

“Cool. It’s a date.” Y/n winked, Steve turning pink. “Later, pretty boy.” Billy threw in a wink of his own, Robin cackling as they turned to leave. “Dingus, get off the floor.” Y/n and Billy giggled, the former pulling the blond alpha outside. After getting snacks, Y/n started toward his house to let Billy rest. They pulled into his driveway, Billy looking tense. “Want me to walk you to the door?” He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll call you after dinner if I can come over?” She nodded. “Love you, B.” She leaned over, nuzzling the alpha’s scent gland. He let out an involuntary purr. “Okay, get off of me. Won’t ever get home.” He teased, kissing her forehead. She waved as he walked up the pavement, driving off. 

Max opened the door after he knocked on it, stunned. “B-billy?!” 

“Hi Max.” 

She threw her arms around him, crying. He put the box down and hugged her back, Max not letting him go for a good 5 minutes. Neil watched them, not saying anything yet. Susan pulled him into a tight hug, saying she had been so worried about him. Max followed him into his room, asking question after question. “Maxine! Let him breathe.” Neil called. “It’s okay.” Billy said to her. She nodded and scooted into her room, Billy laying down on his bed. Neil came in, Billy sitting up in a panic. “Come to the kitchen.” He did, cautious. His body still hurt so much, he wasn’t ready for what pain might be coming. Susan set a plate of food in front of him. Neil pat his shoulder (a little too hard, mind you), squeezing in a way that made Billy straighten his spine in response. “We were so worried, Billy.” Neil said, voice...quiet? 

Susan nodded. “What did the doctors say?”

“Oh, I don’t remember everything but I have some instructions. I have to do some physical therapy and they had to do surgery on my lungs. Ma’am.” 

“MAXINE!”

“WHAT?!” 

“GET YOUR BROTHERS PAPERS FROM THE HOSPITAL.” 

She brought them in, Billy slowly eating the soup in front of him. Billy saw his father’s eyes go wide. “Don’t worry. The guys who own the mall are paying for everything. They don’t want us to sue them.” He repeated the lie Dr. Owens had instructed him to tell. Neil patted him on the shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And if they don’t pay for all of it I’m gonna sue them for all their worth.” Billy nodded. And then he was left alone. Well, sorta. Susan wouldn’t stop staring at him as he walked from the kitchen to the bathroom to his bedroom. He flipped through the pages Dr. Owens had given, grimacing at the appointment list. He was just tired. And the thought of having to do all that was exhausting. “Billy?”

“Hm?”

“I-mom got you something.” He got up, grunting. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She had a phone in her hands. “They said I can connect it for you in here, if you want?”

“Sure, Max.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Or not…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just tired.” She nodded. “Can I put it here?” He nodded, laying back down. “Thanks, Max.” 

“Call your girlfriend.” She poked his arm. He smiled. “You’re not gonna be using this to call you know who lets get that straight now.” She huffed but didn’t yell at him. He called Y/n after his door was shut. 

“Hey baby.” He smiled, speaking to her softly. “Hi. Do you wanna come over?”

“Can I bring Max?”

“Sure. What time?”

“I don’t care. Now?”

“See you in twenty.” 

They watched back to the future in Y/n’s room, Billy having an arm around each girl. Max only lasted about ten minutes before she complained his arm was heavy. Y/n played with his hair, kissing his cheek every once and awhile. She missed him like hell. And she fell asleep during the movie like 40 minutes in. “Baby, you’re missing it.” He cooed, her resting on his shoulder. She blinked awake, nudging his nose with hers. “I’m probably not gonna make it through the movie.” She said, putting her hand on his chest. Max had moved so she was resting on her elbows towards the end of the bed, kicking her feet. Y/n turned on her side, hiding her face in Billy’s neck, the alpha rubbing his cheek on top of her head.  

“Isn’t Marty kinda hot, Y/n? Y/n?” Max turned her head to see her older brother and his girlfriend asleep. She groaned and got up. “Gross.” She actually thought they were really cute but she would never admit that out loud. She decided to venture downstairs, Y/n’s mom in the kitchen. “Hey sweetie. Who are you?”

“Max Mayfield. I’m Billy’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Do you have any ice cream?” Y/n’s mom let her take it upstairs, Max grimacing at the site of Billy drooling on his girlfriend. 

Max bounced as she sat, waking Y/n up. “What’s happening?”

“Want some ice cream?” 

“Sure.” The girls shared ice cream, finishing the movie. 

“Billy, you need to wake up.”

“Five more minutes…” He pleaded, rolling into the pillows. “Ah, fuck.” 

“Careful. Gotta take it easy.” She helped him sit up. “I gotta take you home.”

“Don’t wanna leave.” He whined, pushing his face into her chest. “Billy I’m tired.” Max whined, sugar crash hitting her hard. “You need to go get sleep before our date tomorrow.” Y/n whispered, Billy smiling. “Fine, fine. I’m getting up.” He grumbled, Y/n driving a sleepy Max and Billy home, stomach in knots at the prospect of their movie date tomorrow with Steve. 

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[alovevigilante]

(Warning: responsible over explanation out of fear of judgement from others forthcoming... thank you in advance, the management of Kari keillor, that’s me.)

My informed precursor to my personal process (re: this writing piece): in my opinion and from my own personal experience, before you try any unfamiliar therapy on yourself, it’s good to have support, from both yourself, and a professional versed with the ability to also support you, guide you through any eventuality of feelings you may experience, and remind you, that you can decide to be present, and focused on that, at any point.

Before you read this piece, you will be triggered by its message or not, depending on your beliefs. These upcoming words are my own experiences from my specific filter, given to you, with love. Please be responsible and respectful of me, and yourself after reading them, by not being hyper critical. Is Kari keillor even allowed to share her POV without her own judgements? We’ll see. Read on, or not.

Wait! Now how are you reading this? What is your personal filter saying to you about my writing all of this so far? Are you defensive because I created a space for truth about people’s judgements including my own prior to your reading my opinions about my upcoming writing? Or, are you still open minded to my thoughts? Are you still here reading this, or did you blow me off a long time ago? Did you look at my selfie and make assumptions about me, and who I am? Or, are you open to hearing me speak about whatever it is that I’m going to? Will I ever know how you, the reader, feels about any of this? Do you know how I’m feeling as I type this? Are you sure you do, if you do? What’s my intention? I told you it was love, but do you believe me? Why am I asking all this? Why, out of fear of rejection, and a little bit of messing with you, of course. How did that make you feel? I don’t feel good about it, cause it’s not really me. It’s the defensive me. So, let’s try again with a more loving energy shift.

Trust, in the self and then subsequently in others, is the key to the Allowing love in, and that is the key, to all of my aforewritten blather. When you trust, you release your resistance to love. You are then capable of seeing things from a more positive and yes, beautiful new place. You can I’ll be able to look at old situations with a new loving perspective and energy. You will recognize the love in others. Allowing yourself to experience love, is the support you need from you, to finally kick the shit in your mind, whatever that may be blocking you from communing with others and yourself and just be happy. That means, to support your opinions, by not judging yourself, or prejudging your audience thinking they will also judge you too. And even if they don’t, you’ll most likely think they are anyway, because that’s how fear works. Fear, is a specific filter that messes with your solar plexus chakra. That is where your self esteem is housed.

Now, If I was really worried about how I was going to be experienced by others I probably wouldn’t write publicly to begin with, and sometimes I don’t, as I also keep a journal. If I was truly upset about what others thought, I may say, “I will now delete all the rest of the shit I wrote below, because I’m not attached to it. I’m going to choose, to love myself out of fear, and not share any of me with anyone ever again. But first, I’m going to take the next 2:13 seconds to finish on the treadmill, because sometimes I write while I’m on it.” Then I may say, “Ok. I’ve completed my work out, and I’m sitting on the treadmill, writing again.” And I did say and so all of those things. And now, I’ve thought better about deleting anything, because everything I was, even my fears, has made me the me I am sitting here writing now, and you know what? I’m a pretty decent chick, and I deserve to be treated better by me. So I will preempt myself next time, and not even get this far, in my mental negative self talk, prejudging myself and others. Maybe I’ll use that my time more productively next time. Maybe I’ll eat a twizzler, and dream about what feeling I actually DO want in my life as opposed to fearing and entertaining the feelings that I don’t want, and then by thinking it, I will inadvertently feel better, or something much more fun like that. Yes. That.....

I love to write. I love to share my feelings, my thoughts, and my experiences around all of it with you. So, instead of being defensive about my upcoming thoughts, I’m going to allow you, the reader, to create your own thoughts about what I wrote, because I trust in the process, that the messages will get to the right directions they need to. Thanks for listening, and thanks for letting me let my hair down about all this. 😉💕

Bed head goals. Rainbow colors, all represented. Even orange. See, that’s life. Everyone, is included, but not everyone is equally aware of that fact. Everyone is family. I am not speaking specifically about the family you were born into or married into, or choose to cohabitate with. I am speaking of the family of the human race. We are all interconnected. How do you treat your family? Do you relate to people as you perceive they feel about you? Do you hold grudges? Do you treat people, as you last remembered them to be? Did you cryogenically freeze people in time in your head according to how you felt, at that certain time in your life? Do you remember the good things? Do you care about how you feel now?

I do. I care about how I feel. Right now, in this moment I’m choosing to. So I’ve decided to do that, right now, and stop answering those questions. Because the answer to them all, is to choose love. A loving feeling, a loving thought, a loving action. That’s the process to recognizing every one and everything as family. A functional family... 😉

In the moments before this one, as I wrote, I was recalling, thinking, about how I do all those things, in a more personal way. And how I felt as I recalled those specific memories, wasn’t great. For some people, it may have been good memories they were reviewing in their minds. But if you’re anything like me, most of the things you recall about your past, aren’t so very helpful or fun to think about, due to some outward situations and experiences, but underneath that, how I felt about myself at the time.

I was in therapy some years back, and we did this exercise called, “internal family systems model” or “IFSM” (1) for short, where we (my therapist and I) linked my feelings in my body or my thoughts to specific times in my life, and labeled them as parts of my former self.

For example, I would close my eyes and breathe into a relaxed state, and connect to my 15 year old self that couldn’t articulate the feelings she felt at that time, but I was holding beliefs as my current self deriving from that specific time in my life. Sometimes I would feel a pain or a physical symptom that turned into a memory I had from the past. Then, I would feel into that memory as it would arise, and explore it with the younger me that experienced it.

I would describe it as a kind of like a deliberate reverse Sybil situation, where as sybil was a dissociative case, I was fully conscious and chose to experience, as was completely aware of the process, and was able to return to a more normal, and integrated state after each session. It was an associative process for me. It’s a conditioning of the mind, where the goal, is union of the self. The purpose was to pinpoint my specific feelings in my physical body, and talk to them as if they were separate from me, because in a sense they were, by my subconscious choice out of self protection. Some of me was not on board with the me I am today, because they were stuck in the hurt of the past, and the feelings I was holding. And sometimes not on purpose, these younger parts of me were hindering me with my old stories and beliefs about myself, from fully realizing the me I wanted to be now.

The work was invaluable, and I’m extremely proud of my internal work that I’ve done. I was able to go back to my specific memories, and to the me I was at the time. I would discuss things with the younger me, and ask what the younger me needed to share with me, and to consciously choose to care for myself, council myself, and send myself love.

Sometimes it took awhile to develop the trust between the younger me, and the now older me, to reveal things even to myself. All of those feelings of hurt and pain that I held inside for years. Why the younger me felt the way she/ I did. How different as we, a whole Kari, are now, and how I can listen, to my own needs, and care for my parts of me that didn’t feel loved or appreciated back then; because I wasn’t capable at the time to show up in a supportive and loyal way for them at the time I felt hurt, betrayed or abandoned by myself. It took awhile, but I eventually came to a place of understanding from within myself, to get really honest, and then trust again. You, are also a person that feels, you. Ignoring yourself, is ignoring the person that you are the closest to.

I choose to create inner peace, with self love and kindness. I support myself, by telling those parts that act out in hurt or shame, that I still love, me. I sometimes don’t have to say a word, but I make a conscious effort to connect directly to those feelings inside of myself, and offer myself, a chance to heal, with space and love. It’s not the usual technique that people do, but I believe it helped me connect to the parts of me that felt betrayed by my former actions and thoughts, and allowed me a chance to get on the same page with where I’m at today, in a healthier way. It’s a fantastic coping mechanism for regaining the trust you need to rebuild, from within.

I honestly believe that that, regaining trust within the individual, is the key to healing the planet, and here’s how; the love cannot be recognized, understood or internalized by you, until you trust you. The trust is what allows you to let go of harsh judgements and beliefs, and allows the inner love, to be both created and experienced. If you do not trust yourself to feel love, you will act out accordingly. You won’t trust another person to have your best interest at heart. You won’t be able to feel love, even if that is the way it was intended for you.

So, the first step to experiencing love, is developing a better, more honest relationship with you. Go into the places you feel, and see. Sometimes it shows up physically. For me, it was in my throat. I felt constricted at times, like I couldn’t articulate how I wanted to verbally. I still feel that way sometimes. Writing, for me, has been a serious blessing, that I appreciate. I do it a lot. It helps me sort out my feelings on a way that I can understand, and externalize. It’s a form of self expression that allows me the time and the space, to get really honest with myself, and about my feelings. And some of those feelings, are old stories that don’t serve the current me anymore.

I found doing the parts work, that the loudest voices that I thought, meaning my loudest thoughts, were always the most hurtful to me, and others. They were what I called, “judges” and “the stenographers”. I realized they served a very important purpose in the grand scheme of me, and that purpose was to protect the smaller, younger parts of me that didn’t have a voice, or were afraid to speak their pain. The judges didn’t realize they were hurting me. But my self talk was this constant reminding of hurtful things past. The stenographers would remind me, in full detail what had previously been recorded, in order to never allow that to happen again. Only, that act of reminding was and still is, holding me back from trusting other people because of it. The judges concurred, and cast their verdicts according to the perception of the stenographer’s recounting.

I was internally protected alright, but not in a way where I could comfortably connect with others. I’m still having an issue with connection myself, as my stenographers do a very excellent and thorough job, or reminding me over and over, and over again, what I have experienced, all of my old, unhelpful stories. And anything else I didn’t know, I surmised, and filled in the blanks, usually negatively. And my judges are great too, and on it, and they cut that shit right out of my life alright, but unfortunately not out of my head. And it’s always my decision, to allow them to do it, until I decide to focus, on a new, and better story that I myself, create. So essentially I had to work backwards. I went from my life in the present, to my current actions, to my own old beliefs, to my own old thoughts, to my own old experiences around those thoughts, to my old feelings. I have decided to bypass that now, when I can, and just decide to focus on feeling better whatever that takes. It’s the current deliberate energy shift to better that changes feelings. And everything looks better, from that vantage point.

Retelling ourselves old stories, serves to keep us in a very uncomfortable place. As we grow, and we all do, what fit our lives to think and believe about ourselves and others, don’t always stay the same. The more we live, and the more experiences we have, the more we develop resolute ideas to create a semi false sense of stability on the inside. “Well, I’ve talked to her before... she’s weird....” or, “I know her type, she’s not cool.” Whatever judgements we cast upon others, we have felt and experienced ourselves in some capacity. It always starts, and ends, with us as individuals, and how we’ve felt, and how we choose to feel, next.

People can only truly believe what they have experienced or can truly connect to, and not necessarily what they have learned or heard from others. So the recognition that we are all interconnected is the first step to healing the world, but the precursor to that, is recognition of the self, and taking responsibility for how we as individuals feel. The healing must begin there first, otherwise our individual perceptions will always reflect on others, what we feel about ourselves. The basic need for belonging is in all of us. We are social beings, in need of feeling loved. If we start there, and are kinder to ourselves with our self talk, and how we choose to feel about ourselves in general, it will allow the individual to open up to see that reflection outwardly.

Because of this work, I became really interested in the process of becoming, and then began reading up on, and listening to speeches about the law of attraction, and from there, I started linking the two. My internal guidance is my family unit. And my love, is a co-creation between me, and the god force that works through me. It’s my process, my life, that I write about frequently. How can I get in touch with my feelings enough to feel, better. How can I do it? For years I looked for outside validation and acceptance for others to fill me up, but it never worked. Going within, was my only choice to feel better. I had to take responsibility for my own feelings, and ownership of my own thoughts and beliefs. No one can do it for anyone, as we are all in charge of our own filter, and how we see the world.

I am working on how I feel now. I have decided that regardless of the judgements or opinions good or bad that others hold of me, that I will no longer abide by that as my self definition. That said, I am still human, and fall prey to insecurities and depression about my life. We, as individuals can go one of two ways with it. We can project outwardly to others directly about how we feel internally or we can internalize every hurt we’ve ever felt and become a doormat for people who project their hurt onto others. I went that route first, and then I stopped. I became the me I always wanted to be, only alone. I aligned with myself, and realized that a good majority of the people that were on my life were comfortable with the old scenario. I had changed, but the dynamics of my life hadn’t. It takes awhile for the new energy to integrate with the old, established, formerly agreed upon 3D world that we all share and experience. I’m still working it out internally, so I can mesh with the already established energy in my own life in a way that better suits myself and others.

I don’t necessarily feel fabulous yet, but I’m practicing. I choose better feelings due to my focus on things that please me more often. I tend to act silly a lot, purposefully, to lighten my mood and change my energy for the better. I ask myself this question, “What can I think and believe, and truly hold that emotion as long as possible, to feel good?” And that’s how it starts. I used to be very concerned about what people thought about me. I sometimes still am, but less so now that I’ve decided to be myself more often without having to constantly apologize for it. I have noticed that genuinely happy people do not decide to think ill of themselves, then subsequently do not speak ill of others, so I’ve tried to stop gossiping. Being happy and talking trash is not the same vibrational energy. Those of us who choose to practice feeling good on the inside, are generally going to treat people with the same respect.

Loving yourself, isn’t wrong. Loving yourself, is the link you can create to become trustworthy to yourself, and to others. The lies we tell ourse subconsciously and consciously every day serve as a dissonance from within. You are love. That’s it. It’s only as simple or as complex as you want to make it. Telling yourself anything but that, is untrue, and the trust you develop with yourself can’t fully be realized. Choosing to feel good, to support yourself, and to act in accordance to that support, is the way to true happiness. And that goes for everyone. It’s not the people you need to separate from, it’s the loveless energy that we as individuals choose to hold, and to share. That decision starts with your feelings.

We are smarter than allowing our fears to override the truth about who we are. And our thoughts are a vehicle to our healing. Holding better thoughts, and disrupting old thought patterns with better energy and better topics to ruminate on will bring forth the change we wish to see in the world, but it needs to start from us, individually, and taught to our children as well.

Sister sledge sings a song called, “we are family. I got all my sisters, and me.” Yes. We have our brothers too. But the key word, is, me. We so often leave ourselves out of the equation. Love starts and ends with us. So make it happen. Be the one, who chooses, decides, and makes it different for all of us, and for you. Let’s become whole again. Let’s choose love, and everything that entails, one person at a time. Start with you. Because your internal family, needs you the most. 🌈💕

(1) from the book: Introduction to internal family systems model by Richard C. Schwartz, Ph. D.

[milarvela]

By his own admission, John Barrowman has always been notorious in showbusiness circles. 'I'm known for my jokes, my sense of fun, my high jinks,' he says.

But those 'high jinks' have come back to haunt him recently as a result of serious allegations against his former Doctor Who co-star Noel Clarke.

John's role as Captain Jack Harkness in Doctor Who began in 2005 and the character was given his own spin-off series, the far more adult Torchwood, a year later.

It launched a hugely successful career for John on both stage and screen, taking in leading roles in West End musicals, big-budget US TV shows such as superhero series Arrow, and homegrown light entertainment favourites like All Star Musicals and most recently Dancing On Ice, where he's one of the judges. He was by anyone's measure a family-friendly favourite.

Then a couple of months ago the sky fell in. Following accusations of sexual harassment against Noel Clarke, who played Mickey Smith – the boyfriend of Billie Piper's character Rose – in Doctor Who from 2005 until 2010, historic footage emerged on YouTube of a sci-fi convention, Chicago Tardis, in 2014, released by The Guardian newspaper which had investigated Clarke's behaviour on the Doctor Who set.

In an interview in front of a live audience, Clarke is seen regaling fellow cast members Annette Badland and Camille Coduri with tales of John's behaviour on the set of Doctor Who, exposing himself 'every five seconds'. Clarke then jokes with the audience not to do this at their workplace or they might go to prison.

The allegations levelled against Clarke are extremely serious. At least 20 women have come forward to accuse him of sexual harassment and bullying, 'inappropriate touching and groping' and secretly filming naked auditions before sharing the videos without consent.

He denies all the allegations, but BAFTA has since suspended the Outstanding Contribution award it bestowed on him just weeks earlier, and the BBC has shelved any future projects he was working on with them.

Now John's behaviour on the sets of both Doctor Who and Torchwood has come under scrutiny once again. The furore has led to a video of Captain Jack Harkness being expunged from the current immersive Doctor Who theatre show Time Fracture, a planned Torchwood audio production featuring John and former Doctor Who lead David Tennant being scrapped and doubt about whether he will be invited back to the Dancing On Ice panel.

ITV will announce the line-up for the next series in September. John immediately issued an apology following the emergence of the video back in May, but today he's decided to speak exclusively and candidly to Weekend to give his side of the story.

'The moment has come to set the record straight,' he says from the Palm Springs, California, home he shares with his husband Scott Gill. 'This is the first time – and the last – I will address this subject. And then I plan to draw a thick black line under it.'

Firstly he says it's important to set the scene. On the set of Torchwood, which followed a team of alien hunters and explored themes of sexuality and corruption, he had what might be called a 'relaxed' attitude to nudity, and would wander around in an open robe. But it's claimed that he was well known for flashing and mooning at cast and crew alike on both the Doctor Who and Torchwood sets.

As Captain Jack Harkness I was the star of Torchwood, so I felt it was down to me to lead the company and keep them entertained,' he explains. 'When I was doing a nude scene or a love scene it was clear in the script I'd be naked and everyone would have known about that at least 48 hours in advance. So I'd be waiting in my trailer wearing just a robe with a sock over my "parts". Then, if I were standing waiting to film a scene where I needed to be nude and someone came into view, I'd make a joke to put them and myself at ease. My actions were simply designed to defuse any potential awkwardness among the cast and crew.

'I've never been someone who's embarrassed about his body so it didn't bother me if anyone saw me naked,' he adds. 'The motivation for what I'd call my "tomfoolery" was to maintain a jokey atmosphere. There was absolutely nothing sexual about my actions and nor have I ever been accused of that.' Whether this sort of behaviour would defuse any awkwardness, or actually foster it, is debatable.

WHY I'VE GONE INTO THERAPY

This scandal has clearly not left John unscathed. 'It was upsetting my mental health,' he tells me. 'My husband Scott suggested I talk to somebody. I won't discuss what I've said in therapy sessions – that's a matter of doctor/patient confidentiality – but I don't mind admitting it's helped me a great deal.

'It's made me aware that despite how much cancel culture may talk about respecting people's mental health, too often they don't respect the mental health of the people they're trying to cancel. So I needed to understand what was happening, which is why I went to speak to somebody.'

Has he had more than one session? 'Yes. It's a conversation that's still going on,' he says with a wry laugh. 'Seriously, whatever the situation, if you feel you need to reach out to someone it's very important to keep talking.'

'If what happened had taken place in the changing rooms after a rugby match it would be regarded as no more than a prank,' he continues. 'On the other hand, it's never going to happen in an accountant's office or a supermarket. But my job is not a regular nine-to-five, we're a family working long hours and in close proximity to each other.' Again, one has to bear in mind that a rugby changing room would be an all-male environment. There were many women in the cast and crew of the TV shows.

'In the theatre quick costume changes happen in the wings all the time, with everyone stripping off to get into their new outfits in time for the next scene,' he says. 'Girls might be braless, boys only in jockstraps. That's just how it is and no one gives it a second thought. But I accept that my behaviour at the time could have caused offence.'

Although John's recollection is that no one complained at the time, and he says that no one has complained since, at one point he was called in for a private conversation with Julie Gardner, an executive producer on Doctor Who and Torchwood. She has confirmed to The Guardian that she did receive a complaint.

'My antics had come to her attention and she told me I should rein in my behaviour,' he recalls. 'In blunt terms, she had just two words of advice: "Grow up!" That struck a chord. I did as I was told and my behaviour changed overnight. I'd still be full of jokes and fun, but no more naked pranks. I can see now my actions were pretty juvenile but this was a different time and it's something I would not do today.'

When these rumours were swirling back in 2008, it's also said John exposed himself during a Radio 1 interview in which his behaviour was being discussed. He denies this today.

'I was being goaded by the presenters about my reported behaviour on the Doctor Who set. I went along with it but I didn't actually do anything inappropriate in the studio. What would have been the point, it was on the radio? Still, it created such a stir that the following day I decided to make a full public apology and get on with my life.'

And that might have been that, but for the accusations against Noel Clarke coming to light. 'It seems to me that I've become collateral damage to a much bigger story,' says John.

Given his and Clarke's high profiles and the severity of the allegations against Clarke, this is hardly surprising. Has he spoken to his former co-star since the balloon went up?

'I have not.' Does he plan to? 'I do not. But listen, I'm not trying to cast myself in the role of victim here.' That said, he clearly resents these stories re-emerging, although he has had messages of support.

'In fact many members of the cast and crew have been in touch since this latest storm blew up giving me their support,' he insists. 'I won't name them because I don't want anyone to find themselves in the firing line.'

However, Gareth David-Lloyd, who played bisexual Jack Harkness's lover Ianto Jones in Torchwood, has chosen to go public about working with John. 'In my experience John's behaviour on set was always meant to entertain, make people laugh and keep their spirits and energy high on what were sometimes very long working days,' he said.

'It may be because we were so close as a cast that professional lines were sometimes blurred in the excitement. I was too inexperienced to know any different but we were always laughing. The John I knew on set would never have behaved in a way he thought was affecting someone negatively. From what I know of him, that is not his nature. He was a whirlwind of positive energy, always very generous, kind and a wonderfully supportive lead actor.'

In the weeks following this new public scrutiny John has had time to reflect, and has come to the conclusion there are two issues. One is the aftermath of the #MeToo movement; the other is cancel culture.

'I'm a supporter of #MeToo because no person should ever feel that in order to succeed in their career they can be coerced into doing something sexual against their will.

'My problem with cancel culture, on the other hand, is that it can take the form of intolerance and prejudice. It's a culture with no shades of grey. There's no leeway for forgiveness or room for recognising any change in someone's behaviour. Cancel culture tends to talk at you or past you or through you, rather than listen to you. Dialogue is extremely rare.'

He sounds upset now. 'Look, I'm in a good place,' he insists. 'I've got a great husband, a great family, a great "fan family" around me. But I've found it difficult. And yes, some of the things that were being said have been hurtful.

'Scott and I would go to bed on a Saturday night dreading the stories in the Sunday papers. And then I'd wake up to lies. One newspaper printed as fact that I'd been dropped as a judge by Dancing On Ice. Well, apart from the fact that the new panel isn't decided until the autumn, no one from ITV had spoken to me or my agent about this latest upset.'

Ashley Banjo, leader of dance troupe Diversity and a fellow Dancing On Ice judge, has only worked with John for the past couple of years so did not know him during the time of the behaviour he's now being scrutinised for, but has publicly spoken out in support.

'I've told John I'd readily work with him again,' said Ashley. 'He's always fun on Dancing On Ice and he's been very respectful and considerate. I'd like to see him come back. The impression I get from this story is it's something small and historic, something blown out of proportion. What I'm not a supporter of in regard to cancel culture is when the speed of allegation is much faster than the speed of investigation. Before I make a judgment I want to see and understand the facts.'

There has been outrage on Twitter, with many users pointing out that John's 'tomfoolery' could be regarded as indecent exposure, and that the fact it happened among work colleagues is no excuse. 'You don't do that in work. You don't do it full stop. If you did it in the city centre you'd be arrested,' posted one user.

So does he regret the way he behaved? 'You can't wind the clock back,' he says.

'They were different times, which is why I wouldn't do now what I did then. I've acknowledged that by the way my behaviour has changed. The trouble is that certain cancel culture enthusiasts are not allowing me to acknowledge it. I've always believed that the reason I was put on this planet was to bring joy to people, make them laugh. How I do that has evolved over the years. I'm still using humour, just in a different way than might have been the case ten or 20 years ago.'

Now, he says, he wants to move on, both personally and professionally. Many years ago he bought a house for his parents down the street from where he lives with Scott.

'They're getting on now and I've been their primary carer throughout the pandemic, doing their shopping, getting their prescriptions from the pharmacy and so on. My mother broke her pelvis at one stage but she's on the mend now. I'm just thankful I can keep an eye on her and my father. I'm thankful too to the scientists for coming up with the means by which we can combat Covid via vaccinations, and the healthcare workers for administering them and looking after us so selflessly. We owe them a great debt of gratitude.'

What about professionally? 'Well, I'm at the early stages of putting together a show full of anecdotes and songs that will tour throughout the UK when restrictions are finally lifted. As far as I'm concerned, it's back to business as usual.'

But it remains to be seen later this year with the announcement of the line-up for Dancing On Ice whether John's career too might be put on ice.

***

I can see now my actions were pretty juvenile but this was a different time and it's something I would not do today.'

Well, to be blunt, he’s too old to be doing it anyway, people would just roll they eyes at a pathetic old lech instead of maybe giggling at a younger man’s adorable/innocent/whatever tomfoolery.

'In fact many members of the cast and crew have been in touch since this latest storm blew up giving me their support,' he insists. 'I won't name them because I don't want anyone to find themselves in the firing line.'

I think he should name them. Just for fun. Come on! Because I doubt there have been (m)any. If this story teaches anything, it’s that whatever you say/do can come back to haunt your celebrity status years later in most unexpected ways. Or maybe he was always the intended main course, Noel Clarke only the appetiser...

[findingmypeace]

How has today been? I haven't had a chance to look for something special for you yet.

Aww, no worries on looking for something special. We all have days that are busier or more hectic than others. I appreciate that you thought of me though.

Today has been okay. Not great but not horrible. I’ve managed to keep myself distracted for most of the day so in that sense I haven’t been overly focused on upsetting things. I did have a trauma nightmare that I woke up from this morning and that was unsettling. I’ll probably end up processing it in therapy tomorrow. But work stuff went well today. I felt like one of my sessions was more productive than it has been lately. I’m still missing B though. FB has the daily ‘memories’ you can look at. My memories for today showed a few things B liked. It’s always jarring to remember she’s not there anymore.

[jubilantwriter]

Yuurei ni Natta Boku wa

Summary:  A new obstacle stands in the way of Tome's chance to experience new, exciting days under the tutelage of Reigen. Will Tome be able to prove herself as a worthy student of his, or will Reigen's business finally croak under the hands of this new self-proclaimed psychic?

Next time on: RG8geW91IGJlbGlldmUgZXZlcnl0aGluZyB5b3Ugc2VlPw==

Reading until the very end? Truly a wise choice indeed!

(AO3)

(FF.net)

A/N:  Takes place after the REIGEN manga, AND includes a spiffy little OC.  This won’t be a ship-centric fic, but there will be hints to ships (such as Reigen/Serizawa) anyways.  Please enjoy!

"Ahhh! What am I going to do?!" A young girl dashes past Tome, the familiar uniform and hairstyle making Tome watch her with interest.

"Huh... There she goes again." She's never really stopped Shoujo-chan to ask what was going on in her life - because that'd be weird - but it is always fun to imagine what sort of scenarios Shoujo-chan was getting into today. Maybe she was supposed to stop her billionaire love interest from leaving the country before she can confess? Or perhaps she has to deal with a hoard of jealous fangirls that were threatening to ruin her reputation if she didn't comply to their demands and make the high school heartthrob fall in love with someone else?

… Maybe she too is an esper and is now racing off to save some city somewhere from the brink of destruction?

Hm.

Nah, Mob already has that covered. And that happened like, what, a couple months ago? Maybe more? She's lost track, and Shoujo-chan is long gone now, so she continues on her way to her part-time job.

She doesn't really do much, besides the minimal paperwork that Reigen hands her and serving the clients tea. But sometimes, he lets her watch over his shoulder as he personally "exorcises" spirits from clients, and other times he lets her practice her speeches and advice on him for future clients. If he'd actually let her do more than just watch and learn.

But then again, she's not really in a rush to learn how to con people into believing placebo effects just yet.

Really, she's just into watching whatever interesting things the day brings, be it listening to clients' personal stories of how they believe they got cursed or legitimate hauntings that are plaguing a client to no end. Sure, maybe this isn't the sort of supernatural stuff she is usually into, but being around Mob for so long has given her a deeper appreciation for anything occult and supernatural.

That being said though, a sprinkle of alien encounters wouldn't hurt at all.

She's been trying to convince Reigen to expand his business into outer space somehow. It's really easy, she argues! All they need to do is drag Takenaka and Mob out into a field, and try to reconnect with the aliens. Maybe even aliens get hauntings every once in a while.

Or maybe they just need massages too.

Or a therapy session.

Hm. Maybe she should ask Reigen to actually teach her his ways after all. It'd be so exciting to be a specialist in alien therapy, after all.

Tome hums as she walks, barely noticing a woman standing in her way as she daydreams about the next possible supernatural stint. Maybe alien currency translates nicely into yen, or maybe she and the aliens will engage in another bout of intergalactic exchange, but instead it'll be an exchange of goods and services. Oh, the possibilities! All she needs to do is work on her proposal (wow, so grown up, she thinks, nodding to herself with self-approval) to Reigen, and maybe this time he won't shoot her down on the spot with claims of "how are we going to communicate with them" and "Mob and his friends probably won't be so ready to help this time because it's not about making memories" and "seriously Mob will get upset with me, Tome-chan, he's trying to focus on high school entrance exams".

Really, it's not that big of an issue; she'll just take Mob out on a date on the weekends, and they can go hunting for willing telepaths who'll gladly offer their services (as long as they're willing to accept low pay) and suddenly they'll have new clients to-

"OOF." Tome crashes into the woman who had failed to move in front of her, rubbing her nose as she steps back from the lady. "Sorry about that, I wasn't, uh, looking..."

The woman doesn't respond. Instead, she remains stock still in front of her.

Freaky.

"... Hello?" Tome frowns as the woman continues to ignore her. Seriously, what is her deal? She leans to the side to try and catch a glimpse of the lady's face, and only finds that the lady's eyes are focused on the Spirits and Such sign above them. With how focused the lady looks, Tome can't help but wonder if she too, is lost in her thoughts like Tome was earlier.

But that doesn't explain why the lady didn't budge or notice Tome crashing into her. It's… kind of weird, but by now, Tome is used to weird things happening all the time.

… Probably.

Well, judging by how intense the woman is eyeing the sign, it'd only be proper to ask the woman what her problem is. Tome clears her throat, watching as the woman snaps her attention over to Tome abruptly, surprising her with the sudden head jerk in her direction.

"Uh... can I help you?" Tome approaches the woman, noticing her rather... formal attire.

Well, Reigen-ish formal. The kind of formal that reminds Tome of incessant doorbell rings and incessant people trying to shove products in her hands.

The woman has light brown hair done up in a gravity defying style. Sure, people can pin up their small ponytails against their head, but Tome is sure that hair, pinned up against a skull or not, should still be spilling over slightly, like a withering flower that someone has neglected to care for. The woman's hair, however, spikes straight up from where it's pinned up. Tome wants to believe that it's the work of gel at play, but there's not a single stiff strand of hair to hint towards that.

From there, Tome notices the tucked in dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the woman's elbows. Around her collar is a grey tie, but from the looks of it, it looks more as though the original color had faded away, leaving behind a murky grey-ish tone that hints at its former glory. Completing the attire is a pair of black slacks that look... like they don't deserve to be called slacks. But Tome doesn't really have another name for what the clothing could be, so fake slacks will have to do.

The more Tome looks at this woman, the more she can't help but feel like every piece of this woman just feels a little… off. Before she can dwell on it any longer, however, her feet start to make their soreness known, and it's only then that she realizes that the woman has yet to respond to her initial question. Instead, all she's done is stare dead-eyed at Tome with eyes of the lightest shade of brown. Tome clears her throat to hide whatever nervousness the woman has invoked within her and speaks again. "Lady, did you want to come inside?"

The woman blinks before looking around and pointing at herself. Jesus, did this woman really think that Tome would be talking to anyone else but her? In THIS empty street? Well, it IS quite possible that Tome could be talking to herself in the middle of an empty street, but creeping feeling of unease starts to lurk under Tome's skin, so she pushes that aside quickly and forces her mind to think about something else. Like how she's pretty sure she's late to her shift, not that Reigen counts every minute she works.

But still. She needs to practice punctuality for when she gets a real job with real pay.

Maybe Reigen will up her pay once she presents him with this lady who is hopefully a client, probably client, definitely a client, yes, no doubt about it, she's refusing to think of her as anyone else but a client now.

God, why won't this lady just respond already? This isn't the kind of one-sided conversation she's used to. Tome sucks in a breath and continues to speak.

"Yes, you. I saw you staring up at that sign, and I work here so, if you'd like, I can take you inside? If you're wondering if you needed to schedule an appointment to meet with Reigen-san, you don't need to worry about that. We also accept walk-ins!"

Practicing that spiel was worth it.

The woman's eyes widen in surprise before she shakes her head, and the look of surprise is replaced with a charming smile.

Huh.

It almost reminds Tome of-

"Ah, yes! Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts for a moment." The woman straightens her tie for some reason before flipping her hand out with flair. "Could you please lead me to your workplace? I would like to meet this... Reigen-san I've heard so much about."

"You've heard of Reigen-san?" Tome crosses her arms and stares at the woman who suddenly transformed from stony and mute to confident and lively. Maybe the lady really WAS lost in her thoughts, and this is just how she normally is. Yes, this is the kind of self-reassurance that Tome needs. "I know he claims to be a well-known psychic, but I didn't think people actually KNEW him outside of the people who pop in after seeing the flyers."

"I have my sources." The woman places her hands on her hips as she tilts her head to the side. "Surely you remember that broadcast starring Reigen-san a while back?"

Ah.

Yes.

She completely forgot about that.

Somehow, Reigen's televised shame was shoved to the back of her head after...

Hm.

How many times has the city been destroyed by now? Twice? That's already too many times already, but what can you do, she supposes.

She shakes her head.

"Uh, right. Forgot about that." The woman merely straightens her posture and looks pointedly at Tome. "Oh yeah. Right this way." Tome gestures for the woman to follow her, and leads her up the staircase to Reigen's office. The woman hums behind her before speaking up without Tome's prompting.

"So... About this Reigen-san."

"Yes?"

"What can you say about him?"

Suspicious question. But then again, Reigen himself is a rather suspicious person, and since this lady knows about Reigen's televised shame, it could be that she's trying to see if Reigen is worth a grain of salt (haha, god she should tell Serizawa that joke- no, wait, he'll just be disappointed that she belittled Reigen's worth like that, so maybe not), or if he's actually the real deal.

Tome knows he's about as genuine as a sugar pill.

But she can't tell that to a potential client. She's got to manage an amazing business spiel of her boss if she wants this client to stay and pay.

Not only that, but she's starting to run out of stairs to climb before she can convince this woman that he is truly, the shit.

"Well! Reigen-san is a very kind man," who likes to use espers for his business, "who charges remarkably less for what other psychics usually pay for." Tome thinks this is why her pay is so low. She doesn't even want to ask Serizawa how much he actually makes.

"He definitely does his best to solve whatever problem you have, be it small or big!" This, she can confidently say, is true. Despite his shady nature, he really does actually make good on his word. Sure, he'll advertise his lies as actual psychic remedies, but all their clients always leave looking happier than when they arrived. "He genuinely cares about his employees and makes sure that they're taken care of."

She can speak from her own personal experience, but she also knows that Reigen wasn't always... the best person. She remembers all the times when he'd call Mob out from a hangout just to exorcise a ghost. Mob was never happy about those moments, and she's sure that even though Reigen has a better understanding of his boundaries with Mob, Mob STILL kind of hates being called last minute to help with something.

Hm.

Well, half-lies are okay, right? Plus, Reigen seems like he's genuinely made an effort to respect Mob more and only ever really calls him for emergencies.

Like that one time he was about to literally die.

After saving her life.

Ah, she's run out of stairs.

Tome turns to the woman behind her, whose face has turned into something inscrutable, probably to digest all those "facts" Tome just told her.

That, or she's already judging the truthfulness of what Tome just told her.

Only one way to find out, really.

Tome opens the door to the office, holding the door open for the woman to step through. "Welcome to Spirits and Such Consultation-"

"Tome-chan! I was wondering where you were." Reigen is already walking towards her when he notices the woman standing behind her. He looks to her, then to Tome, concern already worming its way onto his face.

Right.

The last time she brought someone over, it nearly resulted in her AND her senpai's death, so it's not too surprising that Reigen is giving the woman a wary glance over as he tries to figure out what trouble Tome got into this time.

"Client." Just that one word is enough to reassure Reigen that no, this time she's just doing her job and not starting a whole new unnecessary adventure. Reigen takes barely half a second to compose himself, already gesticulating wildly as he greets the woman.

"Ah, yes! Welcome to Spirits and Such - are you here for a consultation?" Reigen flashes her his award-winning smile, and the woman smiles with amusement.

"Something like that."

"Right this way!" Reigen leads the woman to his desk, where Serizawa is sitting nearby, working diligently on his homework. As Tome walks over to her own desk, Serizawa suddenly jolts upright and looks wildly at the woman. The woman gives Serizawa a friendly wave before turning to face Reigen. Serizawa looks towards Tome, his eyes wide as he uses his pupils to point at the woman sitting in front of Reigen.

Tome just shrugs helplessly, watching as Serizawa's shoulders tense up the longer he studies the client.

Serizawa opens his mouth to say something, but Reigen speaks up before the taller man can get a word in.

"So! What could be troubling you today? Is it perhaps a spirit haunting your shoulders? A curse from a jealous rival? Maybe you've been hearing strange noises in your apartment or house?" The woman merely smiles a charming smile before answering Reigen.

"Nothing of the sort, really. Although you could say that I have a spirit problem."

Serizawa makes a strained noise in his throat.

Reigen raises an eyebrow at Serizawa before turning back to the woman. "Oh? Then what is it that you need help with? If you need an exorcism to deal with your little spirit problem-"

"Oh no, there's no need to worry about that." The woman folds her hands to rest on Reigen's desk. "I was joking, really. I would be well aware if I had any little spirits lingering around me." She chuckles to herself, leaving Reigen to study her before smiling again.

"Of course! So then, what services are you looking for today?"

"Reigen-san..." Serizawa raises a hand, looking as though to reach towards the woman. "She's-"

"A client." Reigen takes Serizawa's hand and puts it back gently on his desk. Tome leans forward from her seat, watching the interaction with nervous en- no, INTEREST. She watches the three adults with interest as something dark brews between the three of them. Serizawa is sweating bullets as Reigen takes back the woman's attention.

"Please don't mind my employee. Sometimes he gets a bit jumpy when he senses spirits lingering around our clients. Are you sure," Reigen gives the woman a pointed stare, "that you have no illnesses of any sort? No aches or pains for no discernible reason? No ailments at all?"

She shakes her head. "Not at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Reigen turns to Serizawa, his lips drawn into a fine line. "What-"

"Actually." The woman interrupts Reigen before he can continue his question to Serizawa. "I'm actually here for an evaluation."

"Oh!" Reigen claps his hands a bit too loudly. "Of course! An evaluation!" He grins as he steeples his fingers together. "So, what is it that you would like evaluated?"

The woman smirks as she leans forward.

Something doesn't feel right.

The room fills up with a tense, heavy atmosphere, causing to Serizawa jump up with his hand outstretched.

"You-!"

"Serizawa, calm down!" Reigen grabs Serizawa's hand and shoves it back down. "I don't know WHAT'S getting you riled up, but you shouldn't try to exorcise anything without a proper evaluation!" Now it's Reigen's turn to start sweating bullets as Serizawa starts sputtering.

"But, Reigen-san-!"

"Trust me, Serizawa." The twitches in Reigen's smile let Tome know that he too realizes that something unnatural is happening. "If something bad happens, I'll let you do whatever it is you want. But for now," he gestures weakly to the woman sitting unfazed in front of him, "... client."

Serizawa remains standing, his hands clenched and trembling by his sides.

"Are you alright?" The woman looks Serizawa up and down, giving him a calming smile. "I promise, whatever it is you think you're sensing, it's not dangerous." Reigen sits back, looking over his client seriously.

"... so about your evaluation."

"Yes!" The woman turns back to Reigen, her arm resting on his desk as she rests her chin in her hand. "My evaluation."

Reigen narrows his eyes. "... you're up to something, aren't you?"

The woman's calming smile morphs into a smirk.

"Allow me to introduce myself."

With a slick movement, her hand moves from her chin to in front of Reigen, reaching for a handshake.

Reigen takes it slowly, gripping it firmly and giving her a quick shake.

Serizawa sucks in a breath, and Tome can only watch as Serizawa's anxious face morphs into utter confusion.

And then fear.

The woman squeezes Reigen's hand before tilting her head to the side. "I'm sure you've heard of the Sun Psychic Union?"

"I-" She releases her grip to gently backhand his face into silence. "Gak!"

"I've been hired by a certain psychic to evaluate the legitimacy of one Reigen Arataka's business."

"What-"

"To put it simply." She removes her hand from his face and straightens her tie, smirking as several papers begin to float from Reigen's desk. Reigen pales as he watches the spectacle, his eyes moving from the papers to the woman. She releases her tie, letting the papers drop back onto his desk and enjoying his floundering. "I will be the one evaluating you, Reigen-san." She glances from Serizawa to Tome, taking in the sight of both their faces, before leaning back and meeting Reigen's heavily sweating face with her bemused one.

"I am Chigami Haru, the Number One Psychic Inspector of the 21st Century." She gets up, walking away from the three gawking faces to move towards the door, opening it before turning to wave farewell. "I'll be back tomorrow for your evaluation!"

Before anyone can stop her, she shuts the door behind, her promise lingering in the air.

...

Well-

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

Tome covers her ears from Reigen's loud shriek. She doesn't get what just happened, but from just the feel of the room itself, she knows that it's something beyond what her occult books and prior experiences have prepared her for.

With a quick dig through her bag, she pulls out her phone and turns it on.

Maybe Mob can help Reigen out.

A/N:   Ii4uLmhleSEiICBIZSBjYWxscyBvdXQgdG8gaGVyLCBoaXMgZmVldCB3YW50aW5nIHRvIGZvbGxvdyBhZnRlciBoZXIsIGJ1dCBmYWlsaW5nIHRvIG1vdmUuICIuLi5XZSBjYW4gZ28gc2VlIHRoZSBmaXJld29ya3Mgd2hlbiB5b3UgZ2V0IGJhY2ssIG9rYXk/Ig==

[raphpanda21]

Hecate’s family counseling session 6 (part 1)

Walking into the room used for therapy Hecate freezes seeing one of her clients waiting. It was a bit off putting as normally she was stuck browsing her phone for anywhere from 5 to 10 min waiting for the attendees to arrive. Instead her youngest patient stood by what appeared to be a child sized full stocked bar cart.Hebe greeted her arrival with a smile so wide it was unnatural let alone unnerving.

Hebe: Good morning Ms. Hecate I wasn’t sure what your preferred beverage might be so I came a little early. I do hope you don’t mind.

Hecate moves into the room approaching the child and her set up with curiosity.

Hecate: Drink? It is not even 10 am so I think I will try and restrain myself. Do you always come prepared with a fully stocked bar?

Hebe nods her head slowly absently playing with the ice tongs in the ice bucket.

Hebe: Mother and Father really like the drinks I make. I always get a lot of praise from them and others.

Hecate felt sorry for the little girl. She was adorable if you liked kids but it appeared to be the majority of her self confidence was based around her beverage making skills. Not wanting to start the meeting of wrong she decides to concede a little.

Hecate: Really?! Well when you put it that way how can I miss an opportunity like this. My stomach was a little upset this morning though so I better stay away from the hard stuff. How about a ginger ale with two cherries. Can you manage that?

Hebe’s face lights up with a natural smile finally replacing the forced one that had greeted Hecate from the moment she had seen her.

Hebe: Of course be ready in a jiffy!

Hebe quickly fills up a pint glass with ice dropping in two cherries before digging out a can of ginger ale from beneath the cart and filling the glass. As the last finishing touch she takes out a tropical umbrella stabbing one of the floating cherries with it to keep it perched pleasingly in the glass.

Hecate took the glass from Hebe just as Zeus followed by Hera walk in. Taking a sip from her drink she watches silently as like an anintonic machine Hebe immediately sets to work making two drinks and upon completion carried them over to her parents. Both thanking her before taking a seat at opposite ends of the couch letting Hebe settle between them.

This was messed up that was the only word for it period. Shockingly though it seemed to be normal for all of them.

Hecate was torn. Sure she could break the kid down it wouldn’t be heard at all but she honestly didn’t want to. Hebe exhibited all the signs of a child developing coping mechanisms in order to handle trauma and stress. Breaking down Hebe’s parents on the other hand seemed like a great idea.

Opening up her bag she pulls out a large sketch pad, a package of markers , her cellphone and some headphones.

Hecate: Hebe I have a very important task for you that will be of great aid to our therapy today.

Hebe’s eye light up with eagerness

Hecate: I need you to sit over at that little table and draw a few pictures of your family for me. While you do that I am going to talk to your mommy and daddy so we will put these headphones on so you aren’t distracted while making your masterpieces. I’ll even let you pick what you want to listen to alright. Once you are done we can talk about your pictures alright?

Hebe: Alright I think I can do that! I will make sure Mother looks extra pretty too for sure!

Hebe hoped off the couch and followed Hecate over to the table letting her get everything set up. Hecate intentionally sat her with her back to them and volume up loud enough to block out the ass kicking she was about to deliver .

Turning back to Zeus and Hera her eyes glow with her rage and her voice comes out like a slowly building thunderclap

Hecate: Shame! Shame on the both of you! You have both let yourself become so self absorbed with your own lives and problems that your child has basically become your barkeep in order to garner some sort of affection and attention from you!

Zeus looks shocked at her tirade having stoped midway in raking a swig from his drink. Hera on the other hand at least has the decency to look ashamed.

Pointing to the both of them Hecate continues her tirade

Hecate: The two of you need to get your heads out of your asses and or other people’s asses and get your shit together. Figure out your damn marriage or end it cause if you think Hebe isn’t aware of your Titan level discord you are fooling yourself. The saddest part about this is I guarantee you the pictures she draws is going to be fucking adorable and so sweet my teeth will hurt because that is how she wants things to be! “

Zeus clears his throat shifting in his seat seemingly uncomfortable with all that has been laid at his feet

Zeus: What would you know about kids? Didn’t you take a vow of celibacy?

Hera glares at Zeus smacking his arm

Hera: Zeus for once in your life just listen and try to comprehend. If you won’t do it for me at least do it for Hebe.

Zeus who had been glaring at Hera for the arm smack and but at the pleading tone and her mention of Hebe his features soften

Zeus: Fine...but I stick by what I said. How is she supposed to help us with kids when she has never had any?

Hecate smiles having taken the time while they interacted to get out two more pads of paper and a pack of markers handing them all to Hera.

Hecate: I may not have birthed my own children but if you check my resume you will clearly see that Kourotrophos is included. Now then let’s set to work because I have a feeling Hebe will complete her task quickly. I want you to both right down what you like about the other and then what you know you need to work on personally. Understood?

They both nod each beginning to work on their own list as Hecate goes to the bar making herself something with a little more kick. One drink later and about 30 mins in actual time Hebe approaches.

Hebe: I finished Ms. Hecate.

She offers her finished product to Hecate who takes it patting her on the head.

Hecate: Marvelous, you get settled in there by your Mom and Dad and as I show them you can explain.

Once Hebe is settled Hecate holds up the first drawing. It was a scene of the three of them cuddled up on a couch a large bowl of popcorn in Hebe’s lap and everyone one was smiling.

Hecate: Tell me about this picture Hebe

Hebe: We are having a movie night together. We used to have movie nights every week and sometimes even game nights but not anymore. I miss it ...it was fun and we were so happy.

Hecate’s smiles nodding her head but her eyes are locked on the two parents clearly sending the message are you listening.

Moving to the next picture she holds it up

Hebe: This one is just of me and daddy. He is the best story teller. Sorry mommy but he does all sorts of voices it is amazing!

Hebe bites her lip twiddling her fingers as she looks down

Hebe: I guess daddy thinks I am to old for stories anymore.

Zeus sniffs slightly muttering something about damn allergies as he rubs at his eyes

Hecate tsks lightly but says nothing bringing out the last picture

Hebe’s smile doubles as she was quite proud of her work on the last one

Hebe: This is how I imagine mother and father when they get old. Old couples in love are the cutest! I know they won’t get super old looking like the mortals do but I did give them a few gray hairs and some of those smile lines Athena told me about.