#had a therapist that’s been affective in any way. one time I had one who made me feel actively worse and one time

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[seilon]

in the past I’ve always been more or less eager to talk to a therapist after just getting one but this time for whatever reason I just feel a weird sense of dread

[anika-ann]

Thirst for Life (As It Is) - S.R.

Type: one-shot, established relationship, next-to-zero plot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 3,7k

Summary: You loved him for it; you hated it. You were still coming to terms with it, still learning to accept and believe that he damn-well meant it when he said he would always fight tooth and nail to come back to you.

You’d count your blessings; you celebrated his efforts by being the very home he was to you to him and if you could sooth his pain in any way you knew, as a physical therapist, as his lover, as a human being, you would.

A slice of life kind of fic, a moment of love life of Steve Rogers and his beloved.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, fingering, oral (F rec), allusions to penetrative sex, brief mention of canon typical injuries, briefest allusions to angst, FLUFF, dorks in love

A/N: Super belated entry for Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge hosted by @steviebbboi. Thank you for hosting and congrats again💕 I got inspired by the prompt Aw, does it feel good right here?🤭

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @saradika-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰

Lips pressing to heated skin; to entice, to sooth the burning.

Fingertips dancing over strained muscles. Body arching into the touch.

A silent blissful keen escaping.

A sinful whisper.

“Aww, is that the spot, love? Does it feel good right there?"

A blatant, wicked tease, rewarded by a breathless curse spilling from parted lips, a soundless complaint.

Unable to help yourself, you giggled, kissing the spot again, earning a grunt – a sound of protest and approval alike.

“Just you wait…” Steve muttered, annoyed and somewhat fond at once, groaning when you pressed with your fingers this time, feeling the tight knot right under his right shoulder blade as if growing thicker to rebel against your care. “And this isn’t funny.”

You licked your lips, biting back to fight another laugh and losing anyway.

“Come on, Steve… it’s a little funny.”

It was a little funny.

Steve Rogers, a mighty supersoldier, all muscle and broadness, filling the space of the large bed. A paragon of strength and justice, shoulders wide enough to carry the weight of the world, his heart a shield for those who needed protection, his shield the heart of the Avengers. A seemingly fearless leader, a strategic mastermind, an excellent fighter; the embodiment of masculinity and power and righteousness and love.

All that and more – brought to its knees by a pulled muscle.

Of course, if it were up to Steve only, he would not even let this slow him down, not in the slightest, let alone bring him down his knees. Oh no.

It was your gentle offer; a soft touch of a hand, a sweet promise, a confession and a plea on your lips.  

“Let me help, love.”

A gaze of mutual affection exchanged; a kiss to his lips to seal the deal with tenderness you knew your might have to abandon if you wanted to help set his body right.

It was a little funny.

The huge hunk of supersoldier muscle, turned into a puddle of a man under your touch. You treated him with as much skill as you would any other client or a patient of yours, if perhaps with a little softer care and with considerably less professionalism.

Obviously, Steve was not your usual client or patient; Steve Rogers was infinitely much more to you. The love radiating from the depth of your heart turned tangible in his proximity; undeniably present in your touch, be it your hands or your lips trying to sooth the pain, be it you straddling his hips which seemed almost absurdly narrow in comparison of the enormity of his shoulders, be it your words of affection or gentle teasing.

Obviously, Steve was not your usual client or patient; most of those who came in specifically with a pulled muscle were there because they had been helping a friend moving furniture, overestimated themselves in a gym, or snapped their head to the side too fast.

Your boyfriend of almost one year, on the other hand, had pulled a muscle when lifting a goddamn car off of someone to whose rescue he had rushed to.

Pressing against the knot, gently but firmly enough to make Steve groan – a sound of complaint bleeding into one of gratitude as you gradually released the pressure – you allowed the piece of information about him having practically lifted a car wash over you again, the astonishment at absurdity and curiosity of life fresh as if it was something entirely new to you.

But it wasn’t. It most definitely wasn’t the first time you had been confronted with this part of who Steve was. It wasn’t the first time you were confronted with how much the serum had enhanced his strength and possibly stubbornness, with what he did for living and how, or with the insistent calling in his very soul to help and serve and be nothing but a profoundly good man. It was hardly the first time and yet you guessed it would never cease to amaze you.

His good heart and his kind soul. His brilliant mind and his incredible body. A man all strong and resilient, but not invincible, not unbreakable.

And perhaps that was where the laugh was coming from – the reason why you couldn’t quite help yourself but tease him, why you couldn’t quite stop giggling.

The relief.

Because Steve Rogers – one of the greatest heroes of your time and the past alike – coming back home with only a pulled muscle was nothing short of a miracle, and this was how your strained body and mind expressed the utter, overwhelming relief coursing your veins.

Because Steve came home. Home to you.

Another day, another save.

Another day he could have caught a knife to his gut or to his neck. Another day he could have caught a bullet an inch from his heart or straight through. Another day he could have been taken and tortured for information or for the twisted fun of hurting Captain America.

None of that had happened.

Instead, it was another day Steve came home to you in one piece. Even if tired and with a pulled muscle.

You’d count your blessings, over and over, more so since you knew how and why he had pulled that muscle; gold of heart and dumb of ass, he couldn’t have waited for someone to come help him, not when the man who had been pinned under a damn car was so clearly and understandably in pain.

Steve’s mind was a brilliant thing, coming up with impenetrable strategies, with a plan B for the plan B and with a plan C and D just in case, carefully predicting outcomes and calculating risks; sometimes he just got bad at math when calculating risks for himself when he couldn’t bear seeing others suffer.

You loved him for it; you hated it. You were still coming to terms with it, still learning to accept and believe that he damn-well meant it when he said he would always fight tooth and nail to come back to you.

You’d count your blessings; you celebrated his efforts by being the very home he was to you to him and if you could sooth his pain in any way you knew, as a physical therapist, as his lover, as a human being, you would.

And he’d let you, even if the first time you had met had certainly not been the case. Not with him having been dragged in, after having his knee busted in a fight, arguing that he did not need anyone’s help, because he was enhanced by the supersoldier serum and his body had always healed on its own. You wouldn’t have it; you had met all the unwilling patients and sceptics. So you took one glance at the man who had literally dragged him in – his best friend, Bucky Barnes, seemingly more exhausted by his attitude than by the fact he had been carrying a significant weight of the huge pile of muscle Steve Rogers was – and then took another look at the man behind the shield himself, before you listed all the muscles, tendons and bones that would have begged him to differ in reaction to such claim.

To this day, you were not quite sure whether it had been your knowledge or your ability to simply not have his attitude that had impressed him more, but later you would find out his attitude was more about him feeling like others needed your help more than him and less about him questioning your field or expertise. That had mattered to you; what mattered also was that Bucky was never going to let you or Steve live your so-called meet-cute down, claiming he knew right away Steve had fallen in love the very second.

So you’d count your blessing and you’d let yourself feel whatever came, and you’d let yourself be consumed by the love with gratitude and thirst for life as it was.

You let yourself laugh again even as Steve grumbled under you, muttering something about maybe deserving it. You appreciated the self-awareness. You appreciated him.

You smiled as you let your hands roam with purpose, warm touch mapping out his pains and still taking moments to caress and indulge in exploring his body, cherishing the beautiful view of the expanse of his back and the feel of his strength yielding to your care with endless trust.

“I feel a little less treated and little more objectified at this point,” he muttered, a smile evident in his voice even before your gaze flickered to his face, now turned to side as he rested his cheek on the back of his hand.

One corner of your lips rose higher, barely a flicker of shame in your chest. You’d never violate a patient or a client like that; but you’d also never miss a chance to feel closer to Steve, miss a chance to touch him, to cherish the contact and to make him feel loved.

“Is there a complaint you’d like to submit, sir?” you questioned, a wide smile setting on your lips as he hummed in disapproval.

Still, you finished the treatment with a last few strokes that were indeed more of a gentle closing than anything else, climbed off of him and pulled the blanket over his naked back to keep the muscles warm.    

He blinked his eyes open as you sat by his side on the bed, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

The second he reached out his hand to hold you, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly, making him huff but obediently stop his progress.

“You know the rules, Steve. Stay still for a bit, let the body process. I’ll bring you some fluids.”

He sighed, squinting at you with adorable defiance. “I do know… I don’t have like it. Maybe just a minor complaint then.”

You grinned, leaning closer to him on the pillow, feeling your heart tremble in thorough warmth as he observed you with sleepy intent and a look closest to adoration you had ever seen.

“What’s that, Captain Rogers?” you whispered conspiratorially.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

You relaxed into the mattress, shoulders slumping, heart a second from melting as the lightest and most delightful feeling spread through your veins, a rush so powerful it almost chased tears into your eyes.

To care and be cared for; to love and be loved, so utterly you had never believed it possible until you met Steve Rogers, most certainly the love of your life.

Reaching out, your fingertips lightly caressed his cheek, his eyelids slipping shut; you brushed over the arches of his brows, over the slope of his nose, over his lips – instantly pursing for a light kiss to your fingers – and caressed his scalp, only to meet his gaze again, so tender you felt something inside your soul shift and shudder in pure happiness.

“I know you will when I need it,” you assured him, bringing a ghost of a smile to his face. “And I’m pretty sure that’s the idea. That we’re supposed to be taking care of each other, love.”

A sparkle lit up his tired eyes, his smile turning positively goofy.

“I like that,” he whispered.

“Good,” you said, pressing another kiss to his forehead and climbing to your feet. “Now be a good patient and stay still for a bit, just like everyone else… no matter how special you are to me.”

“Mmm, if you say so… I love you.”

You fought the urge to lie next to him, reminding yourself that if you got him fluids now, you could lie with him and bask in his warmth later and with no interruptions.

“I love you too, Steve.”

By the time you got back, hands clean of the essential oil and full with a mug of tea and a tall glass of water, you found him fast asleep, still on his front, arms hugging his pillow.

Not bothering to fight off your smile this time, you set the mug on the nightstand, tucked the blanket higher to his chin and climbed up to the bed to sit and prop up on the headboard.

You reached for the engagement ring you had taken off for the massage first and put it back where it belonged, and only then for your half-read book, gaze once more flickering to man who had stolen your heart and would never give it back.

Attention divided, you read; but mainly you kept your future husband company, watching over his peaceful and more than deserved sleep.

Because that was what you were supposed to do; watch over each other, look out for one another, and take care of each other.

And in a few months, you’d promise to continue doing that with love for the rest of your lives, swearing so in front of your friends and families.

Lips pressing to heated skin; to entice, to sooth the burning.

Fingertips dancing over strained muscles. Body arching into the touch.

A silent blissful keen escaping.

A sinful whisper.

“Aww, is that the spot, love?” he teased, every syllable dripping off his lips rich and heady like honey, and even with your eyes fluttered shut, you could see his beautifully wicked smile, the spark in his eyes that shone dark, lit alive in a way that was reserved for you; and only for you. “Does it feel good right there?"

You recognized the echo of your own words, Steve’s voice coloured with sweet vindication. He knew exactly what he was doing and he revelled in it; you would protest and complained again if your lips remembered how to speak beyond Steve’s name and breathless pleas. You would protest if you truly wanted to and he would stop in an instant. You would protest if your hands were not literally tied.

Again, unlike your other patients, all Steve had needed was your skilled touch and a good rest. A few hours of sleep, Erskine’s serum working its magic and he had been good to go; perhaps not for another mission, not for a training session, but for repaying your service with love and adoration and desire.

Hugging your middle after waking up, resting his head over your thigh, he had sent a single glance up at you and you had very well forgotten what you had been reading.

He had kissed your palms in thank you, one and then the other, lingering with his gaze and his lips, and you had already been forgetting your own name.

He had pressed a kiss to your wrists, wrapping them in satin like a precious gift, smiling as he had to ruck up the sleeves of his very shirt you had chosen to wear to bed to do so.

He had ghosted his lips over your fingertips as he tied your wrists to the headboard, making sure you rested your hands, the most important asset for your work; conveniently putting your engagement ring on display for him to see at all times while doing so.

He had met your lips in a kiss so sultry you barely caught your breath, before they strayed over every inch of newly revealed skin as he unbuttoned the shirt, lingering in all his and your favourite places, hands roaming, caressing, holding, owning.

You arched against his mouth when he reached his prize, forearm draping over your middle, keeping you grounded as he lifted you towards the stars once, almost for the second time, until his fingers joined to show off his own talented touch and to bring you to the brink of madness.

“Did not quite catch that, sweetheart,” he muttered to the burning skin of your inner thigh, rendering you speechless with his tongue before you could catch your wits and answer. “I suppose I should try again…”

“Steve-“

“Right here, love… give me one more. Let me take care of you… you said you knew I would take care of you when you’d need it, didn’t you? Do you need it now, love?”

Steven Grant Rogers, you little shit- was the thought that flew through your head so fast you couldn’t hope to catch it let alone verbalize it. Not with how your head was beginning to spin when his lips, his hands, his wicked tongue and seemingly innocent filthy talk carried by his deep voice overwhelmed your senses and chased you higher and closer to your peak with every passing torturous second.

“Yes-“ was what actually spilled from your lips breathily, followed by a keen of please.

“Then be good and stay still.”

Steve’s dark mischievous gaze met yours, the erotic sight of him between your legs, wide shoulders barely fitting, with his palm sprawled to your belly and seemingly enjoying himself thoroughly was your undoing, along with things he did and you could not hope to put into words; not when your vision whited out with a cry of his name and wave of numbing bliss washing over you and pulling you under.

You were trying to catch your breath as he let you ride out your high, firm, wet languid kisses pressed to your thighs, your stomach, your breasts with just a graze of teeth to both increase your pleasure and to satisfy the man who loved to get lost in exploring your body and consuming you whole.

When his lips finally met yours again, you did not care you still hadn’t quite earned enough oxygen, whimpering against the demanding kiss as Steve’s fingers curled just to press at the spot again, while he casually rested his weight on his elbow, left hand interlacing his fingers with yours to feel the ring he had slipped on your finger just a few weeks ago.

“Love you so much, sweetheart. Love seeing you like this, so beautiful, so blissed out and so, so mine…” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had been the one to crying out in ecstasy.

“I love you too, Steve.”

Instinctively moving to touch him, to keep him closer, you tugged at the soft fabric around your wrists, huffing in frustration when all you could do was squeeze Steve’s hand tighter.

“Hands, love?” you pleaded, arching your body against his, hovering too high for your taste even when your bare chest brushed his, your body drinking hungrily the heat which his own was radiating. “Want to touch you.”

“Anything for you, love.”

As thoroughly distracting as his lips were, pressing back to yours as he blindly loosened the knots, your hands sprang the moment you were free, sighing as the utter delight at holding onto your lover flooded every cell of your body, fingers raking through his hair, digging into his back to pull his closer to your embrace.

His lips eased the pressure, nose bumping yours, fingertips brushing your cheek tenderly, his smile as sweet as sinful, and when you blinked your eyes open, you couldn’t but bask in the blinding light of adoration shining in Steve’s blown pupils.

“You alright, sweetheart? Can you take more?”

The question nor the concern were new; yet they tasted as lovely as Steve’s smile when he leaned in to kiss you again.

You ran your hand down the lovely expanse of his back, pressing to meet his hardness, a wordless agreement.

“Yes, just… be careful.”

Steve’s lips parted from yours with a wet pop, genuine worry instantly overtaking his features, his weight easing from your body – almost making you regret what you were about to say when he’d inevitably ask-

“Are you hurting? Did I do anything-“

“I’m fine, Stevie…” you assured him, brushing a lose strand away from his forehead, smoothening the crease that formed there, your wildly pounding heart shivering from his tender care for you, his consideration, his willingness to walk away from chasing his own pleasure and just hold you should you wish so for whatever reason.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, his frown only deepening with disapproval as he probably thought you were about to downplay whatever it was that bothered you, what he had done to hurt you or was causing you pain – like Mr. Hypocrite, your softest, biggest love.

“No need to worry, Steve. I just want you to be careful, you know… you might pull a muscle and need medical and fluids after.”

A beat of silence, bated breaths.

And then you were bursting out with laughter at Steve’s scandalized expression, the sound blending into a yelp as he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you to the air. He stood up in a whirlwind of a movement, spinning you until your back hit the wall, blow softened by his palm while his other moved under your bottom, fingers digging to your flesh, pinning you to the hard surface by his hips, his chest, and mainly by his lips crashing against yours, stealing the laughter from you very lungs, drinking your love from the very bottom of your heart.

He nipped at your bottom lip, hips bucking against yours, his voice a sultry promise you couldn’t wait for him to make good on; for all the teasing, you knew that indeed, your Steve would have caring for you at the forefront of his mind. You could feel his love undeniably present in his touch, be it his hands or his lips, be it his words of affection or the gentle, exhilarating threats:

“Oh just you wait, love… we’ll see who’ll need what after I’m done with you… I was so well-taken care of by my future wife, I think I want to start training for our wedding night. And sweetheart,” he whispered, warm breath brushing your ear, “I think it’s time we try to push our record to double digits.”

As a shudder ran down your spine like a livewire, your heart jumping to your throat with how your blissed-out mind scrambled to try to imagine that, you let your body sink into his, counted your blessing, and let yourself feel whatever was about to come.

You let yourself be consumed by love with gratitude and thirst for life as it was.

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving feedback.

May November be kind to you💕

[ghostie-luvs]

Yandere! Patient <3

tw: depression,, obsessive behavior, very slight mention of sh/attempt

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who had been suffering from depression ever since he was young. His parents never tried to figure out why, only sending him to all these different therapists in hopes of helping him. Of course, they cared but they were also too busy, and perhaps, that was one of the leading causes: neglect.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who never tried hurting himself or attempting but only wallowed in the emptiness of the house he grew up in, no siblings to play with, no parents to admire, only him, and a few servants.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who during highschool, got his first ever partner. Gods, he was ecstatic! I mean, the man was touch starved, attention starved, everything starved really. He really did like the person,, so much that his love developed into a sort of unhealthy love, or so people call it.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who would do anything for his new partner, go above and beyond for them..even if they didn’t like it. I mean, shouldn’t they be more appreciative of his efforts? No matter, he still loves them and will do whatever it takes for them to be happy.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ whose love only grows, progresses into a more..obsessive one. His partner always being treated with the affection he so wish he had when he was younger, with gifts, touches, anything they could ever want.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who savored the feeling of their touches, begging for more each time they pulled away, whining if you could even call it that. He needed the affection, he needed their touch and only deflated whenever he did not get what he wanted, thoughts of his childhood resurfacing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who began to become dependent to his partner, needing them for everything. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, to eat or anything without them. He needed them, desperately. He couldn’t live without them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who started to panic when his partner began to get distant. He wanted to ask why, wanted to figure out the problem, what he possibly did wrong. His partner gave him no room to even ask, breaking up with him, saying he was too much, and too clingy. What? Too..clingy?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who after the breakup, didn’t take it very well. He fell into the old friend of his that he had when he was young, finding no use of taking care of himself.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who was sent to a psychiatrist when his parents came back from abroad, noting his appearance and realizing what was happening again. He fought back, he told them that those damn people never helped him!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, the day he arrived to his supposed assigned psychiatrist, felt absolutely horrible being there and only kept to himself. He knew how it would be already. They would prescribe him medicine that didn’t even work.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, when his eyes fell on you, as you called his name and greeted him with a smile, inviting him to yours and your mentors office-you were only an assistant, only two years older than him- felt his world suddenly fill with colors. What? Soulmates don’t exist. So why was this happening and why did he feel so giddy at your welcoming smile?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who followed you into your office, making himself comfortable as you told him to sit down and tell you about himself. Why was he nervous? Either way, he did exactly what you told him and found himself getting comfortable in your presence and your smile.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who felt happy..happy in a long time at how much you’ve listened to him and treated him so nicely..just like his partner. He was excited for the next appointment, practically sulking when he had to leave, ignoring the fact that you probably prescribed him medicine on the way out, too busy with what would happen next time.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who knew he wouldn’t be taking that medicine anyway. Why would he when he found that you were good enough, that you were the cure?

a/n: ahhh another character <3 please point out any mistakes or any constructive criticism is welcomed!! Reblogs are very much appreciated!!

please note that I am not a professional/ expert in the field of mental illnesses and reach out to one if you ever feel symptoms relating to depression or s! thoughts.

more of my works :)

[beanghostprincess]

Rayleigh and Buggy reunion, but Rayleigh is being over the top judgemental about everything, like idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV show but Rayleigh shows up and acts exactly like Rebecca's mom does. Overcritical of his life choices and dismissive of what he perceives as excuses coming from Buggy, because he knows Buggy's true potential and is annoyed with Buggy not living up to it. He gives Crocodile a once over and goes "is that what you found to replace Shanks with" and moves on and Crocodile doesn't even have a moment to compute the way he was just insulted because Rayleigh has moved on to criticising Mihawk's cooking instead. Worst part is, this all comes from a genuine place of love and care, Rayleigh is legitimately worried sick about his baby clown son of 39 years, but he cannot express that worry without being extremely invasive about everything. Buggy isn't even responding, he just shoots ppl apologetic looks and rolls his eyes when Rayleigh isn't looking because of course he does this obviously Buggy is never good enough for him and Shanks had always been the favourite (you ask Shanks or any other Roger pirate and they will tell you that Buggy is Rayleigh's baby boy and absolute favourite with utmost confidence, too bad the emotional constipation runs in the crew). Dinner is awkward as fuck, because Rayleigh makes attempts at being easygoing but his motherhenning nature irt Buggy shines through, his conviction that Buggy would be happier with Shanks by his side is making him be overcritical of everyone in that dinner and he keeps discussing the good old days and subtly hinting at Buggy that there is still time for him to go back to Shanks....and Buggy looks close to frustrated tears (and everyone agrees, Crocodile has snapped 5 cigars in half with his teeth and Mihawk is 5 seconds away from banging his head on the table).

Just overbearing father Rayleigh being stifling and trying to overcompensate for his shit parenting choices during Buggy's childhood and Buggy having his daddy issues expanded upon (and Crocodile and Mihawk gaining insight to Buggy's entire deal)

"Idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV sho-" My therapist literally told me to stop watching it so much because it was affecting my mental health. So. Yes. I know the show. It's one of my favorite shows EVER. Rebecca is just like me fr my beloved. All of them my beloveds. The songs my beloveds. Don't make me go into CEG x OP because I won't finish. And as you can see, I did not listen to my therapist.

Even though I've always seen Rayleigh as the one who understands Buggy the most (Roger and him love Shanks and Buggy equally but it is quite obvious they put more pressure on Shanks to be more like Roger and that only made things worse by making Buggy's inferiority complex exist) and the one who stands up more for him and comforts him when needed, it is true that he might be more judgemental and he'd be worried for Buggy. Like. Think about it. Roger died and the kids (their kids) ended up alone and going their own separate ways. For Rayleigh, finding out Shanks and Buggy aren't together is just?? So weird?? Because they've always been together. Birds of a feather (if somebody mentions the song 'Two Birds' I am punching them because I can't handle that song today please). And it's just... Well, surprising. 'But as long as they're okay' but they're obviously not okay!!! And it's not that Rayleigh is judging Buggy. In fact, I think he would do the same with Shanks. The second Rayleigh sees Shanks he's already saying he drinks too much (even for a pirate) and that he's been acting recklessly and "What the fuck are you doing without Buggy? Is this because of Buggy?" / "I do not drink because of him. It's- It's not about him. He left-" / "HE LEFT AND YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING?????" / "I hate it when you get like this" / "Like what?" / "Like you want to still do something about my life. I'm an adult, thank you very much-" / "No, you're not if you keep acting this way". And I personally think Rayleigh would just be worried for the both of them and also feel extremely guilty because he wasn't there to fix things when they fought, the way he always did. "The second I left you alone you two start a fight that lasts two decades?" and he would say this to both of them and they would hate it.

But yeah, going back to Buggy I think he'd be worried because. Well. Have you seen Crocodile and Mihawk? I mean. They're kind of on good terms with Buggy now (more or... More or less. Kind of. They're not equals but they're some sort of weird thing and they respect and care for each other. More or less. It's- It's complicated. Don't ask) but they're still them. And Rayleigh can't help but see the situation and be like "I'm proud you made a name of yourself, kid, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to" (meaning: You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted) and Buggy takes it as an "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be safer with him" instead of the real "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be happier with him and this war of pride and hearts you have going on is dumb". And he understands Buggy needs to be away from Shanks to grow, but it's just so, so sad to see them like this when they used to love each other so damn much.

Also, I think Buggy would be going through the worst moment of his life and Crocodile and Mihawk would be so done for different reasons. First, they don't give a fuck about all of this drama. And second, they are starting to see Buggy more like a person and understand why he is the way he is, and the things Rayleigh is saying are bothering them a lot. They've been trying to make the clown move on from his past so he's useful for once (because when he believes in himself he's actually not a burden and more interesting) and now this guy (that they respect because it's Silvers Fucking Rayleigh) comes and tries to change things around here? Nope. Not happening.

So basically, what you're trying to tell me is that Rayleigh regrets raising the boys that way and now he's overcompensating and it's overwhelming for everyone, right? I- I love it. Great plot. 10/10. In character. Perfect. It makes me go insane. I love their daddy issues.

(Also, can we talk about how "This Was a Shit Show" and "What'll it be" are extremely Buggy songs??? Because- Because now I want to-)

[edelgarfield]

god damn it all this Aeor and Calamity lore has me liking Ludinus a lot more than I ever wanted to. I find him so fascinating and compelling as a villain, in the way that he reflects a lot of my favorite characters' flaws particularly from CR2, but CR3 in Bell's Hells at times self-defeating pursuit of power in order to win.

I'm thinking abt a couple quotes from Essek, bc he & Ludinus obviously have so much in common. By Essek's own admission, it was his inability to trust people that made his pursuit of knowledge at the cost of others so appealing, that made him lose sight of the hurt he was causing

In particular the second quote: feeling personally responsible for doing something because of your inability to trust anyone else. I think that encompasses Ludinus's ideology & motivation so well.

The idea of longevity/immortality being a barrier to intimacy is something that gets talked about with respect to elves a lot, and I think Ludinus encompasses that to its logical extreme. Ludinus is one of the last survivors who actually lived on Exandria during the Calamity. Most elves actually fucked off to the Feywild and didn't return until long after the fighting was over. Given Ludinus was a child when Aeor fell, I would assume that means his parents chose to stay on Exandria & he was born afterwards. (Which if that's the case, adds another layer to his resistance against the gods bc he was doomed to live through the war on the surface of Exandria bc of a choice his parents made before he was born.)

All the elves born at the tail end of the Calamity are dead by now, Ludinus lived at least 160ish years of it, and most of the elves born around that time would have been in the Feywild and wouldn't have the experience of seeing what happened to the world. Everyone else who survived the Calamity would have died hundreds of years ago, not to mention that only a third of the population even survived it in the first place. The thing that's saved the PCs (& Essek) time and time again is their bonds with others, having other people to support them & remind them that all the power in the world means nothing if you lose yourself in its pursuit, that there are good things in this world worth living for.

Anyone that might have had the chance to sway Ludinus from his path is long dead, either from the Calamity or old age. Liliana seems to be the only person he feels close to, but they're both bonded through their shared cause. Even other elves, the people with the longest memories, don't understand what living through the Calamity was like. They weren't there.

I know it was mostly a joke when Laudna suggested Ludinus go to therapy, but at the same time where would he go? One of the things that helps PTSD is a sense of community, feeling like there are other people who share your experience, but there isn't anyone that shares Ludinus's experience (Not to mention anything resembling a therapist on Exandria would most likely draw power from a deity, which Ludinus is understandably opposed to).

That sense of isolation is something that comes up again & again among CR PCs. CR2 is the most obvious, but it's something plenty of the CR3 characters have been through as well. Ludinus would have been alone in his trauma for hundreds of years. That's completely incomprehensible to us. He would have watched the world move on and forget something that's so deeply affected him. Any attempt to confide in someone about his anger & pain would often be met with "this is punishment for our hubris" "the gods love us" "don't question their will." The very, very few allies he had would die out over the years until one day he's the last and he would be the last for centuries more. I feel like that sense of isolation, feeling removed from the world, bottling up centuries' worth of emotion would make anyone numb. he withdraws further and further into himself bc he doesn't belong. he works for centuries at removing the gods, becoming more and more desperate as he grows older, without anyone else to provide perspective as his plans grow more and more ruthless. (i also have a theory that this loneliness is part of what makes him sympathetic to predathos but that's a separate post)

Given his age & being the last survivor of the Calamity, I think it's nearly impossible for him to connect with other people. The only thing that gives him any sense of connection or community is his crusade against the gods; he only feels connected to others through their shared pain & anger, which never allow him to move past it. He can't trust anyone bc no one else understands what the gods are capable of like he does, nobody else understands what's at stake. He's the only person remaining who does, which means he's the only one who can do what he believes needs to be done.

There's a sense of duty. He needs to eliminate the gods because he doesn't trust the future inhabitants of Exandria to be able to protect their world. He owes it to all those who've been trampled on by the gods to do what they no longer can. I think he genuinely cares about mortals & he wants to defend them from a threat that he believes only he can see, but I think he cares far more about the thousands of dead he carries on his back than anyone alive. He can't simply live a happy life bc everything that once made his life worth living is gone. He can't let go of that pain & anger and move forward. His trauma is what gives him purpose and meaning; healing from it would be a betrayal to all the people that have suffered beneath the gods.

I don't think he's wrong about the gods, but I think he's seeking freedom from the gods' control, not realizing that he's letting himself be controlled by the dead. I think it's been a very long time since he spared a thought towards actually living. Bell's Hells keeps accusing him of wanting to take the place of the gods, or wanting to be seen as a messiah, but I truly don't think that's it. I don't think he cares about what comes after, if he's even thought about it at all. I don't even think he wants to be a martyr. His goal has never been for him to live in a free world, it's to ensure that there will be a world after he's gone, forever. he thinks if he dies without securing that future, he'll have failed Exandria & all the souls that have ever lived on it.

He's been completely ruthless in his pursuit of power because to him, he is fighting for Exandria's survival. That's exactly the trap BH has fallen into in the past, pursuing power even when it hurts themselves & their friends, losing sight of the actual people they claim to be protecting. Ludinus surrounds himself with terrible people; Otohan and Trent to name two, bc he wants the power they hold without getting his hands dirty himself. but in doing so he immediately removes any possibility of emotional intimacy. the people he works with don't trust him & he doesn't trust them. the one exception is Liliana & unfortunately I think she just met him far too late.

so much of CR is about the importance of feeling connected to other people, how those connections remind us of what's truly important, and keep us grounded, how when we begin to lose sight of ourselves, it's those we're close to that remind us. I think of Caleb & Essek, they both had goals they wanted to pursue, but in finding a place to belong realized those goals wouldn't actually make them happy. Ludinus doesn't want to be happy, he wants to have a purpose, and I know I'm a bleeding heart, but I think there is something incredibly tragic in someone who can't even imagine what it would be like to live a happy life.

I think of Fjord & Percy & Imogen & Laudna & Dorian, people who nearly lost themselves in pursuit of power, but chose to turn away because living for their friends was more important that dying for the world. Ludinus is the pendulum swinging in the other direction. It's incredibly tragic bc imo his intentions are genuinely good; he's arrogant and selfish and ruthless but i think he truly does want to protect Exandria.

I think there was a point in the past where someone could have reached him & he could have chosen a different path. i don't even think he would have necessarily had to give up his goal of removing the gods. if he had other people working alongside him instead of under him, who knows what he could've come up with? if he had people to pass the torch onto once he was gone, maybe he would feel like there was time to come up with a solution besides Predathos.

But he doesn't and he can't trust anyone bc no one else believes in his cause as fervently as he does. he can't trust anyone else to make the sacrifices he's willing to make so he never tries. He denies himself the aid & perspective & closeness that comes with trusting someone and becomes further and further entrenched in his mission to remove the gods at any cost. He's the only one alive left to remember the trauma of the Calamity: he has to carry all of it because no one else can.

[effy-writes]

Hii can I request Blitzø hcs with a fem S/O who always says she's ok and fine even when she's not, like she's sensitive but knows people are rude and shitty, so she keeps all her feelings in and doesn't speak up bc she doesn't wanna seem like a burden? Tyy!

ofc!! sorry this took so long

~~~~

blitz x f! reader who feels like a burden hc’s

• growing up you’ve always been told to keep your feelings to yourself because it’s a “hush hush” type thing (mainly because of your parents)

• even before you and blitz started dating you always kept things buried inside. you’re a typical yapper, but go completely non verbal whenever you’re going through some things

• blitz being blitz, he didn’t pay attention to it at first until he made a joke one day that may or may not made you cry in the bathroom

“thank satan you stopped talking, you were driving me crazy.”

you abruptly left the meeting room and locked yourself in the bathroom, leaving blitz to himself like, “wtf did i even say”

• later on he asked you about it, being like “did i say something orrr” and you told him you were already having a shitty day and that’s when the dots connected. “well if you ever need to spill your heart out you can.”

• you appreciated it, but didn’t want to feel like a burden to him since he already has his problems.

• years later, you two started a serious relationship. he trusted you already, so he wasn’t afraid to talk to you about his stuff (you had to pesterize him for it, but he did managed to tell you things)

• you on the other hand was still afraid of being a burden to him. you didn’t want him to think that you’re too much for him to handle so you kept things to yourself.

• blitz still caught on that you’re not being honest about your feelings, so he would ask you allll the time.

“i’m fine, okay? im fine. don’t worry about me.”

“just tell me what’s going on.”

“i’m just tired.”

“bullshit and you know it.”

•after arguing back and forth you finally told him what’s been bothering you, which consisted of people being shitty to you in the past and how their words still affect you to this day, your own thoughts haunting you, anxiety, etc.

• blitz understood 100% about what you were getting at and he told you that he won’t ever think of you as a burden and that you shouldn’t be afraid to talk to him about things

“but you already have your own stuff to deal with, i don’t want to be added on your plate.”

“and you were always there when i needed you and i want to be there for you.”

• he comforted you as many times as he could. whenever you’re not talking or slouching in chairs he’ll take your hand into his wherever you guys are at. in a meeting and sees that you’re not okay? he’ll sit beside of you and hold your hand while continuing to talk. ESPECIALLY when you guys are laying down on the couch or bed he’ll just flat out hold you, even if you don’t tell him what’s going on because eventually you’ll tell him.

• “want me to fuck those feelings out?”

“let’s role play, me being the therapist and you’re my patient. let’s sigmund freud up this bitch!”

• he really cares about you but has a weird way of saying it

• he offered an idea to where if you really don’t want to talk to him about when you’re sad/upset/any other negative emotions, you can lay your head on his lap facing his stomach so he’ll know if you’re not okay.

• you liked that idea, and the first time you followed through with it blitz kinda got confused but then was like “oh shit, she’s not okay”

you would bury your head against his stomach, wanting to get as close to him as possible. blitz combed your hair with his fingers and slightly purred, “ready to talk about?”

if you mumble no then he’ll just keep massaging your scalp or rub your back, but if you do start talking then he’s all ears and will try to make you sit up so he can hear you better, but if you still wanna bury your head against him then he’ll still try his best to hear you. “sorry say that again?…one more time…you’re not gonna believe this but you’re gonna have to repeat that.”

• long story short, blitz wants you to be up and honest as you can to him. he hates it when you don’t talk about what’s going on with you because he cares so much and doesn’t want to lose you. he’ll always reassure you that you’re not a burden just by speaking up on how you’re feeling

[glubsurleseuil]

Don't be scared - Chapter 1

This is the first chapter - Next

A Pennywise X F!Reader fanfic 'cause I need to get these ideas out of my head before they eat me up. I'll post this thing on AO3 when I'm not so lazy to create an account. If I go ahead with it, it'll be NSFW, sexually disturbing, gory, violent, reader is an autistic drepressed suicidal girl… In short, skip it if you're a sensitive soul. For the rest of you, enjoy (I hope).

(Note: It was translated by Deepl, English is not my mother tongue, so I apologise for any mistakes. If you want to correct me, don't hesitate!)

(Note 2: The image is by @fandomscreenshots but you should already know that because what she does is amazing)

You've always lived in Derry, Maine. Well, actually you were born in Derry, went to school in Derry and, like any good citizen, you now work in Derry. You don't like it, you never have, and you know that no matter what you do, you'll never like it.

Firstly, because no matter how hard you try since childhood, you just can't seem to make any friends. Worse, people seem to have agreed to shut you out and hate you. At best, they ignore you, at worst… well, let's just say there are certain people you've learned to avoid at all costs, so you don't have to spend the evening licking your wounds…

Secondly, because there's something unhealthy about the general atmosphere of this town, as if it were being devoured by a cancer that affected not only the surrounding greenery, but also the buildings and even the people. A cancer that could be called suffering, melancholy or despair. And although no one knows where these feelings come from, everyone seems to accept them as an inevitable burden.

Tonight, like most evenings, you're working at the Canal Rouge, a rather quiet bar where people can drink and listen to local artists perform on a small stage. You're a waitress, and it's not the most pleasant of jobs, especially when you're a woman. Fortunately, your boss is a woman too, and she's very strict about the respect customers show her staff, so things could be a lot worse.

But tonight, you're in a particularly bad mood. Fatigue has always been a difficult thing for you to deal with, and lately your nights have been… tormented. You've been having a dream, always the same with little difference, on and off for over a week. It's a hazy, dark, incoherent dream that's hard to remember. What you remember most is anguish, fear… and an unbearable feeling of being watched by something dangerous, making you feel like prey waiting to be devoured. When your therapist asked you to describe this dream, even with random words, you said 'fear', 'red' and… 'clown'. You laughed after saying that last word, a nervous, uncontrolled laugh, like a continuation of the one you always hear in this dream before waking up.

But tonight, the worst is yet to come, because you have to serve Jenny's gang as consumers, young people your own age who, like you, are stuck in Derry and like to pass the time by annoying other people. Especially you, since you met them in kindergarten. You know you won't be able to get home safely tonight…

And your fears are confirmed as you finish your shift. As you emerge into the alley to which the service door leads, you see them laughing at the end of it, looking in your direction. This is the way home. You quickly think of another option, but you know that even if you take a longer route, they'll be able to corner you sooner or later, and that's what they'll do. Unless… you go through the forest…

You don't hesitate, knowing that your pursuers won't follow. Their parents have given them the same instructions as you: never go into the forest at night. Ever. Your father had made it clear that he meant business by emphasizing his order with the back of his hand. But tonight, you're a grown-up, and between your dead father's old superstitions and Jenny and her gang's guaranteed beating, the choice was quickly made.

You head into the forest, at first more worried about your pursuers who, as expected, quickly abandon their target. Then you decide to turn on the torch on your phone, as it quickly becomes very dark between the tightly packed trees in the middle of the night. You recognize the path you're on and follow it to the ancient oak tree where you used to climb as a child to escape the bullies. But even this place, reassuring by day, gives off a menacing aura by night…

All is quiet, too quiet for a forest where animals should be going about their nocturnal lives. You get the impression that a kind of fog is floating around, light but unnatural, and as you look at the thick branches of the oak tree, you get a strange feeling… Like a memory from another life… Like a dream…

Suddenly, there's a sound. A sound you know well, having heard it every night for over a week. A laugh. A clown's laugh… You turn in all directions, shining your phone in every nook and cranny around the oak. And just as you realize that there's nothing there, that maybe it's your imagination playing tricks on you, the laughter starts up again. You jump back against the tree, light pointed ahead, anticipating the appearance of someone, something… The laughter becomes more distinct, closer… But it's not coming from in front of you, nor from the sides… It comes… from above?

With a quick gesture, you point the light towards the branches of the oak tree and there, hidden in the shadows of the leaves, you see it: a clown. No, THE clown. The one who has haunted your dreams, distressed your nights, devoured your sanity. This present moment has repeated itself endlessly in your nightmare and now it's all happening for real, clear as day and just as terrifying.

With a muffled scream, you drop your phone, the lamp face down and your legs buckling beneath you. The little light that escapes from beneath your phone only faintly illuminates the bottom of the tree, but you know IT's there.

And it's not long before he leaps down from the tree. You can only make out a silhouette in the darkness, and as you hear him coming closer, you try to remember the end of the dream. It's all a blur, and all that comes back is a vague memory of a hunt in which you are the prey… Back on the grassy ground, you pull yourself back as best you can with your hands, never taking your eyes off the presence. Is this how you're going to die?

He moves slowly closer, slipping into the shadows. You can make out that he's leaning forward, then addressing you in a childlike voice.

"Hiya Y/N! I'm Pennywise, the dancing clown!"

He suddenly picks up your phone from the floor, pulling it up slowly, light downwards, gradually revealing his appearance as he continues.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you, you know? Don't be scared, I'm not going to kill you…"

As he utters these words, light finally shines on his face, reflected in his abnormally large and sharp teeth, piercing yellow eyes focused on you, and horror fills you.

"… yet."

The instinct to survive gives you new energy. You leap to your feet and flee the way you came, briefly illuminated by your phone in the clown's hands. You run at full speed, ignoring the noises behind you that make you think he's chasing you. If you've got a chance of getting away, you're going to take it. In fact, the forest exit isn't far off. One last push! You close your eyes and accelerate again… when hands often clutch your collar, brutally stopping your momentum.

"There you are, you bastard!"

"I told you she'd come back! She's such a pussy!"

"No way out now, you bitch!"

Jenny and her gang… It was Tim, the big muscular guy who caught you. They were waiting for you just outside the forest…

"Why are you running so fast? Are you afraid of the big bad wolf?"

They burst out laughing, but the sound reaches you distorted. The adrenalin from your run is wearing off too slowly and you can still hear your heart pounding in your eardrums. You struggle on, your brain unable to make sense of what has just happened. Suddenly, you hear a foul noise. A kind of hoarse, inhuman growl, coming out of the depths of the woods like an echo to their pitiful mocking laughter. You feel Tim's hands trembling with uncontrollable fear on your collar and watch their faces disintegrate before your eyes. Tim lets go and they all flee in a single scream of terror, leaving you behind.

You turn around, your body still tired from your frantic run, and you quickly understand what made them flee: golden eyes, shining menacingly in the darkness, perched on a huge, muscular, fur-covered figure, its multiple sharp teeth accentuating the evil growl rolling down its throat. A werewolf.

You barely have time to realize that it's the clown from earlier before he disappears between the trees with a hoot that sends shivers down your spine. Just as you regain your strength to flee, something falls near you. You examine it carefully: it's your phone, and as you turn the screen towards you, you see a message written in a torn red font:

DON'T BE SCARED

You don't wait any longer and run towards town without looking back.

[xxoxobree]

Kill Bill?

Miles G. x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: Miles Moved on But You Aren’t To Happy About It

WARNINGS: Aged Up, Dark Content, Delusional/Mentally Ill Reader , Death!

A/n: Tis was a request. Hope you like Anon 🫶🏽

You sat across from Miles' house in a car that he couldn't recognize, the windows tinted to shade your face just to be on the safe side. As you tapped your fingernails across the dashboard, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation. You knew you shouldn't be here, not after the restraining order he had against you, but love makes us do crazy things, doesn't it?

There he is - your heart skipped a beat as your head snapped towards his figure. You watched his every move, hidden behind the tinted glass. As he walked past the car, you couldn't resist calling out to him, your voice cracking from the overwhelming emotions you felt. "Hey baby," you said softly, your words barely audible.

It had been five days since you last saw him, that day in court where he looked so good in his suit that you nearly drooled at the sight. The memories of that day flooded your mind, the pain and longing for him. But now, you were just an observer from a distance, unable to be with him the way you wanted.

You watched him go inside his house, a lump forming in your throat. It was time for you to leave too, but not to go home. Instead, you drove off to therapy. It wasn't something you were initially interested in. You believed you were fine, that your love for Miles was enough to heal any wounds. But you attended therapy because if that was what it took to get Miles back, you would do it.

You entered the building twirling your keys in a circle, happy because you had just seen the love of your life. With a skip in your step, you took a seat, waiting for your name to be called, daydreaming about Miles and what he might be doing right now. The thought of his silly faces while watching a movie made you giggle, and you eagerly anticipated seeing those expressions again.

Suddenly, you were pulled out of your blissful thoughts as you heard your name called, "Y/n L/n." Letting out a frustrated sigh, you got up and walked into the therapist's room. The therapist, Ms. K, greeted you with a warm smile and extended her hands, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"Hello, Ms. L/n," she said kindly. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine," you replied. "Can we make this quick? I don't want to be here."

Ms. K nodded understandingly before proceeding with her usual questions, the ones you had answered the same way every time you came. But this time, something different happened. The therapist's response wasn't what you wanted to hear, and it echoed in your mind, unsettling you.

"There are other men, Y/n," Ms. K said gently. "Men who will actually share the same affection for you."

You screwed your face in distaste, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. How could she possibly know what was best for you? Miles was the love of your life, and you couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

"What are you talking about? He loves me and I love him." Your face hardened. "Who does this lady think she is," you asked yourself internally.

"All I'm saying is don't limit yourself to Miles," she replied calmly.

"Whatever, are we done now?" you asked, gathering your things without waiting for a response. You left, still fuming at her audacity to speak about you and Miles.

You got in the car, speeding out of the parking lot. The anger still simmered within you as you thought about how you and Miles were going to prove everyone wrong. "We're fine, you'll see. We're gonna get married and have 7 kids," you huffed out.

Determined to see him again, you made a right turn, turning off your lights. You knew his street, and you had to see him. Parking on the opposite side, you waited anxiously. You knew he checked the mail at 5 PM every day.

Time passed slowly, and just as you were beginning to lose hope, he appeared. But it wasn't at 5 PM. It was 7 PM, dressed incredibly, making your heart skip a beat. His braids looked freshly done.

"You look so good, Papa," you said, using the nickname only you and his mother used.

You watched his every move as he opened the passenger side of his car door, and someone came out. Another girl. Your stomach turned, and your eyes instantly welled with tears as you covered your mouth. Your chest rapidly rose and fell when he hooked his arm around her waist. The sight was like a sharp knife, piercing through your heart.

You let out a scream, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions that were eating you inside. You couldn't believe what you were witnessing—Miles, your Miles, was cheating on you. A wave of anger and sadness washed over you.

Without a second thought, you put the car in reverse and sped off, leaving a trail of smoke behind you. The world outside became a blur as tears streamed down your face. The pain in your chest was unbearable, but you refused to let it consume you completely.

Once you arrived home, the tears continued to flow. Confusion engulfed your mind as you tried to make sense of why Miles would do such a thing. In court, he had whispered words of love,(He didn't 🤣) but now it seemed like a cruel joke. This separation was only temporary, he said, but how could you believe him after what you had just witnessed?

A thousand thoughts swirled in your mind as you lay in bed, unable to find comfort. Why did she get to have him? You loved him more than anyone ever could. Why did he want her? You knew you were so much better than her, and you were willing to be the best version of yourself for him.

You stared out of the window, at the dazzling lights of New York. As your gaze wandered, It began to click. She doesn't get to have him. No one can, if it isn't you. A mischievous smile slowly crept across your face as you began to plot and scheme in your head.

Your first plan of action was to send a text, a text you probably shouldn't have sent, but it was for Miles' own good. "Hey babe. I miss you sooo much. I saw you with that new 'bitch of the week.' Drop her, and we can get some lunch tomorrow." You clicked the send button, waiting for his response.

Almost immediately, a reply came through. "Y/n, leave me alone. You're crazy." His words stung, but you couldn't let it deter you. "Awee, pookie, crazy about you," you responded, trying to maintain a light-hearted tone. He left you on read. That was the signal to move on to the next phase of your plan. If he didn't want to meet tomorrow, you would meet now.

You slipped on your AirPods, drowning out the world with Aaliyah's classic song, "One in a Million." The rhythm pulsated through your ears as you rummaged through your drawers, pulling out black sweatpants, a black hoodie, and a black balaclava. It was time to embrace the shadows. Miles had bought you the all-black Air Force 1 high tops, which completed your dark ensemble.

You did a spin in the mirror, admiring your reflection with a wicked smile before heading towards your kitchen. You rummaged through the kitchen drawers until your fingers grazed against it - the biggest knife you owned. The cold steel sent a thrilling shiver down your spine as you slipped it discreetly into the pocket of your sweats.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you skipped out of the house and approached the blacked-out car waiting for you. Connecting your phone to the aux, you selected Mariah Carey's "We Belong Together" - a song that had deep meaning to you and Miles. As the music filled the air, you whispered, "I'm coming, baby," before speeding off towards Miles' house.

As you drove, tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. Your emotions were overwhelming but you couldn't let them distract you from your mission. "I'm here, babe, for us," you declared between sobs, your voice filled with a mix of determination and madness.

The lyrics of the song resonated with your turbulent emotions, and you sang your heart out, oblivious to the world around you. The tears continued to flow, leaving streaks on your face as you navigated the streets towards your destination.

Arriving at Miles' house, you parked the car and stepped out, exhilaration radiating from every pore. With the song still playing in the background, you made your way to the back of the building, following the familiar path you had walked countless times before.

Climbing the fire escape, you moved with deliberate slowness, allowing each step to be a painful reminder of the memories you and Miles had shared in this very place. Tears mingled with a sense of longing as you replayed the moments in your mind, unable to let go of the love that had consumed you.

Finally, you reached his window, gazing through the glass at the room that once held the echoes of your laughter and whispers. The sight of his belongings stirred a mixture of anger, desperation, and possessiveness within you. You were determined to make him see that you belonged together, no matter the cost.

The knife pressed against your side, a chilling reminder of your intentions. You took a deep breath, your entire being filled with a deadly combination of love and obsession.

Captivated by a scene that shattered your heart. There he was, wrapped in the embrace of his girlfriend. A longing burned in your eyes, mirroring the longing in your heart.

Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your face as a mix of pain and anger consumed you. You whispered breathily, "If I can't have him, no one will." Determination filled your shattered heart as you slowly approached the window, a smile creeping onto your face.

Carefully, you picked the lock. Your eyes fell upon Miles, writhing in his sleep before finally sitting up.

As he gently caressed his girlfriend's cheek and placed a tender kiss on her temple, you watched, your chest tightening with each flicker of affection as he left the room. A pang of jealousy coursed through your veins, fueling the storm inside you. It was the perfect opportunity.

Silently, you slid open his window, the cool night air brushing against your skin. With steady hands, you retrieved the knife you had carried in your pocket, twirling it expertly between your fingers. Its glint in the moonlight reflected the darkness you were about to commit.

With each step towards his bed, the weight of your emotions grew heavier. The lines between love and obsession blurred, and you clutched the knife tightly, its sharpness digging into your palm as you stood beside his bed, watching his girlfriends peaceful slumber.

In the dimly lit room, the tension hung heavy in the air. The bed creaked under the weight of your body as you hovered over the girl, a menacing expression etched onto your face. She squirmed uneasily, her eyes still closed, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Is that you, Miles?" she whispered. But you remained silent, your cold gaze fixated on her. Without a word, you pressed a cold knife against her neck, causing her eyes to shoot open in terror.

"Shhh, if you scream, I'll kill you," you whispered coldly, relishing in the power you held over her. You pressed the blade harder against her throat, deliberately cutting off her airways, watching as she struggled to breathe while desperately trying to remain silent. The twisted pleasure you felt at her suffering sent a chilling thrill down your spine. This was her punishment for daring to come between you and your man.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached the door, interrupting the tense atmosphere. Miles was coming closer. The girl mustered a feeble whimper before you pressed the knife even harder, drawing a thin line of blood.

In a flash, Miles burst into the room, flicking on the lights. His eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the scene before him – you, straddling his girlfriend with a knife pressed against her throat. Shock and horror painted his face as he struggled to comprehend the twisted scene before him.

You removed your balaclava, revealing your face to Miles. A glimmer of affection danced in your eyes as you gazed at him, the one you loved so deeply. "Hey, Papa," you greeted him, your voice filled with a twisted kind of love. "You looked so handsome earlier," you added, a hint of longing in your tone.

Tears welled up in Miles' eyes, his voice pleading as he held his hands up in surrender. "Y/n, please," he begged desperately.

"What? She's fine," you laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the room.

Miles knew you were a bit off in the head, but he never expected you to go this far. Fear filled him as he contemplated what you might do to his girlfriend, and what you might do to him.

"What do you actually care about her?" you said, your tone turning cold as a single tear rolled down your face. The glint of a knife caught the light, and you pressed it harder against her throat, causing her to struggle for breath.

"She doesn't deserve you," you muttered, your voice filled with a twisted mix of anger and jealousy.

"YOU'RE GONNA KILL HER, Y/N!" Miles screamed, his voice filled with terror.

You removed the knife from her neck, but before she could catch her breath, you quickly slashed her face, eliciting a cry of pain before placing the knife back to her throat.

"I don't care, Miles," you said, laughing cruelly in the girl's face, relishing in her tears. "You're really cute. I see why he'd like you. Too bad I messed up that pretty face."

"Come here, Miles," you commanded, your voice dripping with menace. He hesitated for a moment, torn between fear and helplessness. "Now, or I'll kill her. I swear I will."

With a quickening heartbeat, Miles reluctantly made his way over and took a seat next to you.

You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions as you uttered those words, "Give me a kiss." He leaned in, your lips met in a passionate embrace. In that moment, fireworks exploded in your mind, making it a kiss better than anything you could have ever imagined.

Your hand moved, the knife that had been pressed against the girl's neck found its way across Miles' throat. You had killed your ex.

As Miles's body fell backward, the light in his eyes fading away.. "I love you, Papa," you whispered, the words tinged with both love and something sinister.

Your attention swiftly shifted to the girl, a wicked smile curling your lips. The adrenaline coursing through your veins amplified the darkness within you. "Now, we can't have any witnesses, can we?" you chuckled, relishing in the power coursing through your veins.

She pleaded for her life, her eyes filled with terror and desperation. But her pleas fell on deaf ears, and just like Miles, she met her demise.

As you stood there, a blend of relief and calm washed over you. Stepping towards the window, you climbed out, leaving the scene of the crime behind. The moonlight illuminated your path as you made your way back to your car.

[letsgoletsgetit08]

fireflies

summary: Wooyoung has been gone for over a year - backpacking across Europe to find himself. Yeosang meets him at the Jung's summer country house upon his return. Will their nearly two decade long friendship be able to pick up where it left off?

warnings: mdni, 18+, smut, drinking, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (don't you dare!)

pairing: gentle dom!kang yeosang x bratty sub!jung wooyoung

word count: 4,430

ao3 link: fireflies

fireflies

The country lane turned to dirt and Yeosang slowed his motorcycle down, always having thought this part of the drive was pretty - old growth forest with trees and rocks covered in moss, and every shade of wildflower lining the road that led to Wooyoung's family's summer house - but also, despite not wanting to admit it, Yeosang was biding his time. Nervous. He couldn't really put a finger on why, either. Wooyoung had been his best friend for nearly 20 years now, they were practically raised together, but he'd been away for over a year now. Backpacking across Europe, sending Yeosang pictures of all the food he was trying, the landscape, the varying degrees of sketchy to safe hostels he was staying it, different friends and acquaintances (possibly lovers, but his stomach turned at the thought, so he didn't let it fully form) smiling behind him in nearly every new location. Yeosang had stayed home. Bartending to support himself through grad school. He was excited to be on this path - he was going to be an art therapist - but he still envied Wooyoung a little. His freedom, his ease. His ability to flourish no matter where the wind blew him. Yeosang was scared he would outgrow him, despite him being the older of the two. He had always been there for Wooyoung growing up. Showing him the ropes in his subtle way because if Woo had caught wind of Yeosang trying to help in any way, he would never have allowed it. Independent, stubborn. Defensive about being younger. And bossy, always getting what he wanted. At least as far as it went with Yeosang, who was always happy to oblige. Even if he pretended to resist sometimes.

A memory came flooding back as he went around a curve in the road, the trees opening up to fields of clover and wild lavender, he could see the big three story stone house in the distance, remembering playing out in those fields when he was 9 and Wooyoung was 8. Chasing fireflies. Letting Woo direct which exact bug needed capturing for a (short) life in the jar with holes poked in the top.

“No, Sangie, not that one, the one down there, by the dandelion! Its light is brighter!”

Yeosang had rolled his eyes, smiled to himself, “You already have one, Young-ah. Why do you need a second one?”

Wooyoung had looked hurt, lip pouting, “This one would be lonely. I can't let him be lonely, Yeo.”

“Okay, okay,” his hands had closed around the bug of Wooyoung’s choice, “Got it!”

Wooyoung’s laughter had peeled through the humid late spring evening air, excited at the long awaited capture of a friend for his other pet.

“Now they'll never be alone.” Yeosang had said, carefully releasing the bug into the jar Woo was holding.

“Just like us, right, Yeosang?”

“You'll get tired of me eventually.”

“No way,” Wooyoung's eyes had tears threatening to spill over at this statement, “You’re my best friend. Forever. Promise?”

“Okay, fine. Promise.”

And Woo had tackled him to the ground in a big hug, never having been one to shy away from physical affection. Yeosang had struggled, pretending to hate it, but gave up quickly, never admitting he loved the warm, verging on too tight embrace the younger had him in.

But that was 16 years ago. And 14 months was a long time to be away. He was worried how things might have changed.

He slowed his bike down to a crawl as he pulled up the last stretch of the driveway, lined with peach trees, and he flipped his visor up so the smell could reach him better, the fragrance, between the fruit and flowers in the field, was intoxicating. Wooyoung had always smelled a little like it, even though he and his family only stayed out there three months of the year. It lingered. Peaches, clover, moss, and wildflowers.

His nerves subsided for the time being as Kyungmin - Wooyoung’s younger brother, now nine himself - bounded out the front doors, down the steps, and launched himself at Yeosang right as he had fully dismounted his bike.

“SANGIE HYUNG LOOK!” he backed up from the attack (a hug, really) and pulled his bottom lip aside, showing him a back molar that was wiggling slightly, “Wooyoung says it's not ready but you'll help me pull it if he won't, right?”

Yeosang couldn’t help but grin wide, kneeling to Kyungmin's height and gently patting him on the head, “Of course I will, Min, but let's give it another night, okay? It will hurt really bad otherwise.”

Kyungmin pouted for a second (a family trait, apparently) before taking his hand and pulling him inside, “Come on hyung! My stupid brother has a stupid tattoo he's been showing everyone.”

Yeosang let himself be led inside, nerves returning, pausing a little too long to untie his black boots, setting them gingerly next to a slightly smaller pair of beat up black Vans, biding time again.

He followed Kyungmin through the foyer into the kitchen, following the smells of saffron and seafood that were waiting through the air.

“...and that's why it's not paella unless it's cooked for this long” Wooyoung was facing the stove top, stirring something in a comically large pan, explaining about the food he was making to his parents, who were standing around the kitchen island, snacking on several charcuterie boards and drinking wine, listening to Wooyoung ramble politely. Seeing him nearly knocked the breath out of Yeosang. He looked the same, of course, in a large black t-shirt and faded black jeans, but his skin was the color of honey, tan, one forearm covered in a sleeve of tattoos he had evidently been collecting during his time abroad, and his hair was long, tied half up, the bottom part skimming his shoulders. Yeosang had grown up accustomed to people praising him for his looks. His features were fine, delicate, fair skin, round cheekbones, sparkling eyes, lithe body, “a living statue” an ex had told him once. But Wooyoung… the look behind his eyes always made you feel like you were in on a secret. Everything about him drew you in, like a moth to a flame.

He turned, then, to continue yapping at his parents, but stopped short upon spotting Yeosang, dropping the wooden spoon he was holding onto the countertop carelessly, running over to his best friend.

“Yeosang-ah!” he exclaimed into the elder one's ear, arms around his neck, trying to pepper kisses on his cheeks, Yeosang moving just enough out of the way every time to deflect the kisses, an old game they had always played. Yeosang always pretended to hate the affection but deep down he craved it.

“Youngie, you're choking me.” He chided him, contradicting himself as he finally returned the hug, letting Wooyoung land a kiss sloppily on his cheek at last. Ignoring the flush to his cheeks that followed it. He felt himself breathe deeply for the first time since he started his two hour long motorcycle ride to the country house, breathing in Wooyoung’s familiar scent, realizing that nothing had changed.

“Mmh I don't care, I missed you so much, hyung.”

He let himself relax.

Dinner passed fast, all of them listening to Wooyoung's stories - the cat who followed him from Greece to Italy to Croatia until a friend he made there decided to adopt him, how he lost his shoes in Switzerland, high and lost on the streets of Amsterdam before being adopted by a somewhat famous band passing through town who let him stay at their hotel for the night, dancing in the streets of Barcelona with a handsome stranger, etc. By the end of it, Yeosang's sides and cheeks hurt from laughing.

He helped Wooyoung clean up the kitchen as his mom started trying to convince Kyungmin it was bedtime, yes he still had bedtime during the summer, and his dad went off to put the ducks and chickens away for the night. Yeosang was at the sink, washing dishes, lost in thought, and suddenly felt Wooyoung’s presence behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, just tall enough to rest his head on his shoulder, breath tickling the hairs at the back of Yeosang's neck. Yeosang tried not to tense up at the contact, it had surprised him, but what surprised him more was the way his stomach flipped at the contact. If he was completely honest with himself, he would admit that his feelings for Wooyoung had changed in his absence. Still friendly, always friendly, but seeing his pictures with others, hearing his stories, especially the ones that he was pretty certain he had edited for his family's sake to leave out the parts where he had hooked up with people, Yeosang couldn’t help but feel jealous. Not at the experience itself but at people having access to Wooyoung. His Wooyoung. Not that he could claim that title, really. But he wanted to.

“I wish you would have been there, Sangie.” Wooyoung sighed into his back.

“It looked like so much fun, Woo, but you know I couldn't take that much time away from school or work. Plus, it seems like you had plenty of company without me.” He felt a little bad adding that last part on, hoping it didn't come off rude.

“Yeah but those were just some guys. Everywhere I went I kept thinking, ‘Sang needs to see this.'”

Wooyoung let go then, taking the wet plate from Yeosang's hands and drying it with the dish towel before putting it in the drying rack.

“Mmh. I missed you too, Young-ssi.” He felt himself smile thinking about Woo wishing he would have been there, then quickly snapped out of it when he felt Wooyoung’s eyes on him, face serious again as he handed him the last dish to dry.

“You're not jealous are you, hyung?” Wooyoung poked him in the side.

“What? No. Why?” Yeosang thought he had done a better job of hiding it.

“Hmm,” Wooyoung studied him, “I'll be right back, stay here.” he instructed.

Yeosang did as he was told, and noticed a bottle of wine unstoppered and only half finished sitting on the island. He didn't want to do more dishes, so he drank some straight from the bottle. It left his mouth dry and he looked at the label, Cabernet Sauvignon. Yuck. He much more enjoyed the sweet sparkling Cava they had had with dinner. He took another drink anyway. Trying to erase the images his mind was creating of Wooyoung pinned beneath faceless men and women, blushing as he pictured the faces and sounds he would make.

Footsteps broke him out of his daydream. Or daymare more like. Wooyoung was carrying a big plaid blanket, a small cooler, and a Mason jar, “Let's go outside, Sangie.”

Wooyoung was sitting criss-cross on the blanket out underneath the big sycamore tree where they had spent so many nights together as kids during the summer. “Yes, right there, hyung-ah!” he all but squealed as Yeosang was closing in on his firefly of choice, tipsy on the lillet blanc he had brought outside with them. Yeosang kept sneaking in splashes of soda water into his glass. Not only because Wooyoung was getting a little past tipsy, but also in hopes of softening the blow of the headache he would wake up with drinking something so sweet. It was good though, he had to admit. Over ice with the fresh peaches they had picked from the trees on their way out there, slicing them for their glasses. The French preferred orange slices, Wooyoung had informed him, but how could they pass on the sun ripened peaches already at their disposal?

Yeosang brought the fireflies over to place them in the jar, having somehow managed to catch two at once, knowing Woo would insist on him catching a pair so one wasn't lonely. He flopped down somewhat harshly next to Wooyoung, leaning back on his hands as Wooyoung screwed on the lid with holes in it onto the jar. He picked up his drink and tilted his head back, finishing it, and tapping the bottom to encourage the peach slice to fall into his mouth. He felt eyes on him and moved the glass down, embarrassed. Wooyoung took the glass from his hands and fished the peach slice out, holding it in front of Yeosang's mouth, who took it, feeling the juice spill down his chin, but Wooyoung was there to wipe it for him before he could.

“Messiest eater I've ever met, Yeo.” Wooyoung smiled at him fondly, the corner of his eyes crinkling. To his surprise, Wooyoung brought the finger that had just captured lillet infused peach juice off his chin up to his own mouth, licking it clean while maintaining eye contact with Yeosang.

“Did you bring me out here just to make fun of me, Wooyoung? Did that work on what's-his-name from Barthelona?” He half-joked, half-snipped in poorly disguised jealousy. The lisp in Barcelona also half because he himself had a slight one and half making fun of how people who went to Spain once always returned saying the name of the city.

Wooyoung's smile faded, and his eyes turned away, suddenly very focused on the fireflies in the jar, both helplessly signaling with their lights, trying to communicate that they would like to please be let out, wishes that went ignored by the two boys who were responsible for their distress.

“No,” he said quietly, “I brought you out here because this is one thing only you and I share. I thought you would appreciate it. Since I got to do so much without you.”

“Oh, Wooyoung, I'm sorry, I do appreciate it, I-”

Wooyoung cut him off, “And you're jealous for no reason, by the way. I didn't sleep with that guy.” He started picking up the jar, the cooler, the glasses, and storming off inside.

Yeosang sat in stunned silence for a minute, laying back on the blanket and staring at the stars, wondering what was so terribly offensive about the joke he had made.

After a little while, he was starting to get cold, so he got up and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, headed inside.

He padded up the stairs and turned left towards “his” room at first and then stopped, pivoted, and walked right into Wooyoung’s room without even knocking.

“What the fuck?” Wooyoung was fresh out of the shower, hair wet, wearing only boxers, “Yeosang, go to bed. I don't want to talk to you right now.”

“No,” Yeosang said, sitting on the edge of Wooyoung’s still-made bed, “I'm staying here until we talk, Youngie.” Wooyoung huffed and went to the other side of the bed, sitting down and folding his arms, staring straight ahead instead of looking at Yeosang, “Fine. Talk.”

Yeosang wasn't used to being the one to start, but cleared his throat and swung his legs up on the bed so he was closer to Wooyoung, “I'm sorry. For being jealous. I think I really just missed you.”

He could feel Wooyoung roll his eyes even if he couldn't see it, “Oh, sure. And that's the only reason?”

Yeosang's breath shuddered in his chest, “Yes.” Wooyoung’s head turned sharply away, “Or. Um. No. I don't know.”

“Figure it the fuck out, Kang.”

Yeosang leaned his head back, frustrated, hands fiddling with the comforter, “Wooyoung. I was jealous because I wanted to be there with you. I think… I mean I realized while you were gone. I have feelings for you, Young-ah.” He said the last part barely above a whisper, looking over at Wooyoung, eyes pleading to look back at him. He did, finally, “You do, hyung?”

“Yes. I definitely do. Seeing you again only confirmed it. But I wanted to be happy for you if you were sleeping with other people while you were gone. I want you to have the best life, Woo. With or without me in it.”

Wooyoung gave him a sympathetic look, “Sangie. I don't want my life to ever not have you in it.”

“Really?”

“God, yes, I'm obsessed with you. I could have slept with plenty of people while I was gone. I went in the first place partially because I was running away from my feelings for you, I think. I didn't ever dare dream you would return them.”

Yeosang's heart was on fire, “How could I not return them, Young-ah? You're my favorite person in the whole world.” He reached over and tucked a piece of damp hair behind his ear, hand shaking slightly, “God, you're so pretty, no wonder all of Europe was trying to sleep with you. Why couldn't you do it, honey?”

He was in love with him. Had been for at least a year. Probably longer.

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered at his touch, “Not just them, hyung. I've always turned people down. I think…” he looked up at Yeosang, “I think I always wanted it to be you.”

Yeosang felt his cock twitch in his pants, “Wooyoung… are you saying… You've never…?”

“Never, hyung.”

His thumb traced over Wooyoung’s cheek, his jaw, “And you want me to be the one, jagi?”

Wooyoung leaned in closer, “Please, Yeosang. I don't want anyone else. Will you?”

Yeosang closed the gap, his lips fitting perfectly over Wooyoung’s, kissing him slowly, lightly, tasting better than he had ever imagined, his smell intoxicating, “Yes, baby” another kiss, “I'd be so honored,” another, “you're so perfect, Young-ah.”

He deepened the kiss then, sliding his tongue in between Wooyoung’s already perfectly parted lips, tasting, teasing, letting Wooyoung’s tongue into his own mouth, sucking on it a little, which elicited the most delicious whine out of the younger one's mouth.

Yeosang wanted to take him right then and there but this was special. He wanted to make it so good for him. Perfect.

He slung a leg on top of Wooyoung, straddling his hips, grinding down, already able to feel the other's dick getting hard through his pants. “Oh fuck baby,” he said through increasingly deep kisses, “you feel so good like this.”

Wooyoung moaned into his mouth, hips bucking already, reaching for the hem of Yeosang's shirt, “Mmh hyung, please,” quieted by a kiss for a brief minute, then, “hurry. Please. I need you.”

“Oh, Young-ah, baby, you're going to have to be patient,” breaking away to remove his shirt, “Can you do that for me?”

Wooyoung’s gasp as he finally got the skin contact he was searching for, “Yes, god. Yes. Anything you want.”

A nip at his collarbone, “Oh, good boy. You're going to be so good for me, aren't you, darling?”

“Yes, hyung.” He whined.

Yeosang was so hard. He stood up to remove his jeans, his boxers tented with his erection.

Wooyoung’s eyes were half-lidded, sultry, needy.

He removed his boxers, too, almost an afterthought, suddenly desperate for Wooyoung to see him, touch him.

“Fuck, Yeosang,” Wooyoung’s eyes studied his body, “You're so big. I'm not sure I can-”

“I'll get you ready to take me, baby, don't worry,” a kiss on his cheek as he climbed back on top of him, “And we can always stop. But I'll take care of you, I promise. Can you trust me?”

Kisses down his jaw, collarbone, sucking and marking him as he traveled south.

“Mmh, yes,” a sharp inhale as Yeosang bit playfully at his nipple, “Yes, Sangie, I trust you.”

“Good boy, Woo. You're so exquisite, honey,” he all but purred as he finally was kissing his thighs, “Do you have lube, Youngie?” he said as he pulled the younger one's boxers off, taking his time and enjoying the *thwack* of his dick being released from the waistband, hitting his stomach. Hard and flushed, gorgeously proportioned and shaped, it was already leaking precum and it was all Yeosang could do not to lean down and lick him clean. Instead, he resumed his kisses on the soft flesh of his stomach.

“Drawer- hnnng oh god, hyung,” he moaned as Yeosang could no longer resist not having his mouth on him, lightly trailing his tongue up his length, licking clean the salty pearl at his cleft, “You're gonna make me cum too fast,” he whined, fingers curling into the comforter.

“No, jagiya,” Yeosang's voice was low, rumbling, as he reached up to grab the lube and a condom out of the bedside table drawer, “I'm going to make you cum exactly when I want you to,” he stopped on his way back into his position to kiss him again, deep, working his way across his jaw, landing on his earlobe, which he pinched between his teeth lightly, giving it a small tug before releasing it and planting a kiss there in its place.

Wooyoung was squirming, impatient underneath him, “Please, Sang-ah,” he begged. It was hot.

“Please, what, baby?” a hand on his cock, “tell me what you want”

“You,” a moan as Yeosang stroked him gently, taunting, “I just want you. Everything. All of it. Please-hnnng. Fuuuccckk.”

Yeosang's mouth was around the head of his gorgeous cock, tongue stroking against the underside of the tip, a lube-slicked finger tracing his entrance. He came up for air for a second to say, “Just try relax, angel. I've got you.” Before dipping his head down again, taking him further into his mouth as he started working his finger inside his tight rim simultaneously. When he felt him loosen at his presence there, he added another finger, slowly, knuckle by knuckle, waiting to feel the pressure let up that had returned, removing his mouth when it did, not wanting to overstimulate or drive him to the edge too fast.

Wooyoung whined when his dick was no longer being occupied but it quickly turned into a low moan when Yeosang curled the two fingers inside him slightly, stroking his prostate delicately, steadily. He didn't figure he had too much time before his gorgeous lover was ready to explode, so he added the third finger, scissoring his fingers, making sure he was properly prepped. Wooyoung was already babbling nearly incoherently when Yeosang pulled his fingers out, reaching for the condom on the bed, but was with it enough to stop him, “Wait, Sangie. Can we do it without the condom, please? I wanna…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“Wanna what, love?”

“I wanna,” he found eye contact again, “I want to feel you cum inside me.” He was pouting. How could Yeosang deny him? Plus, he knew how incredible it would feel. It's not like he had had any partners in the last year. And Wooyoung, fuck, it hit him again that he was taking Wooyoung’s virginity. What a privilege. His best friend. The love of his life, he thought. Who else?

“Oh, Youngie, sweetheart, of course. God, who told you you could be so hot?”

A smile lit up Wooyoung’s face. His favorite smile in the whole world. This would never get old.

He grabbed the lube again, applied it liberally, fingering Wooyoung one more time before placing his dick at his entrance, “Just breathe for me baby, okay?” his tip started to push inside, “And tell me to stop any time. You will never have to ask twice with me, I promise.”

Wooyoung moaned his acknowledgement, already taking him so well. Yeosang couldn't figure exactly where to look, it was all so glorious. His eyes flitted over to Wooyoung's tattoo sleeve, the national flowers from every country he visited, but nestled in the middle, between a bunch of lavender and a peach tree flower, was two fireflies. He could have cried had he not felt so fucking good right now. “Young-ah, you're doing so well, honey, I wish you could see yourself taking me, fuck.”

He was buried to the hilt, testing the waters by circling his hips slowly.

“Fuuucckk, hyung, I'm so full, you feel so good, please, pleeeeaaase, mmnhhhh.” He was babbling.

Yeosang started to set a rhythm, “God you're so tight, baby, you feel amazing,” he cooed, grabbing his hands and interlocking their fingers, pinning them up by Wooyoung’s head, the change in angle making his hips buck, needy.

“Mmh, so close, please… ”

“Please, what, love?”

“Please can I cum?” He whimpered.

“Do you think you can do it without me touching you, baby?”

“Mhm so close already, please.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he thrusted a bit harder, “cum for me, angel.”

And he did, messy, all over his own stomach. He was so gorgeous, the sight of him coming undone, sweaty, desperate, was almost enough to send Yeosang over the edge. He knew Wooyoung was probably overstimulated but as if he could read his mind - he probably could at this point - Wooyoung cried out, “No no no please don't stop,” moan, “wanna feel you, please.”

Yeosang readjusted, pulling him up into his lap, Wooyoung’s legs grasping around him, ensuring there was as little space between them as possible.

The change of angle combined with staring into his love's gorgeous siren eyes set Yeosang over the edge quickly, so much hot liquid that it was already leaking out of Wooyoung. He pulled out gently, guiding them down onto the bed, pulling Wooyoung close, planting kisses all over his face, cooing, “Oh, you did so good, baby. You're amazing, really, I'm so-” a kiss finally landing on his perfect mouth, “I'm so in love with you, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung looked like he had just been told he'd won a lifetime supply of free Dunkin Donuts, “You are?”

“Yes, baby. Completely,” another kiss, “stupidly, irrevocably,” another, “in love with you.”

Wooyoung was giggling, returning his kisses with glee, “Yeosang-ah, I'm in love with you too,” a kiss to his jaw, ��I've been in love with you.”

“You got a firefly tattoo.”

“It was the first one I got,” he curled up into the crook of Yeosang's neck, “I got it the day after I landed in London. I missed you so much already.”

“It's perfect. I love it, Wooyoung. I'm tempted to get a matching one.”

Wooyoung sat up, “Really?!”

“Yes, baby,” Yeosang laughed, “I think I'd do anything for you.”

“Oh we're SO getting matching tattoos,” Wooyoung tossed a leg over him, possessive, sticky. He didn’t care. He loved it. He sighed, content, “I'd explode the world for you, angel.”

“I just want fireflies.”

“Then I'll catch you every firefly you ask me to.”

“I never want to go anywhere without you again,Yeosang.”

A kiss to the crown of his perfect head, “You never have to, Wooyoung.”

[lottiembae]

𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔; jackie taylor x fem!reader

Summary: mid-twenties, a podcast and an off voice. or y/n discovering she had sex with a famous podcast's presenter.

Warnings: fluff, mention of sex, future surgeon!reader, mention of disorder alimentary. I don't know how I do it but it's long, sorry😐.

Note: English is not my first language.

"Hello, everyone! Welcome back to glitter things. I'm Jackie Taylor, Shauna is behind like always and today we have a special guest! Welcome back to glitter things Misty."

Y/N spit out the water she was drinking, wetting the counter in front of her. She coughed, grabbing a piece of paper and cleaning the mess, her breath going normal. She kept hearing the new recommended podcast, not believing the voice she is hearing.

She had sex with her. Even if Y/N couldn't see her face, she recognises the voice. That scratching, low and cheerful voice that whispered dirty and luring words at her last night. When they finished, Y/N walked away from Jackie's place and that's all.

Tired and surprised, Y/N sat down on her rough brown couch, listening closely to the program. Amazed by the charm and spontaneity of the woman, she got in a trance and listened to the full episode.

She isn't proud that after that and decides to take a short shower and change clothes, while she cooks her dinner, Y/N put an old episode. This time some Natalie Scatorccio was the special guest, the soft banter with Shauna, who still Y/N couldn't listen to the voice, and the stories about how they were in the same soccer team. It surprises Y/N, not taking Jackie Taylor to play some sport. She finished her dinner and after thinking about it, she couldn't help typing her name, only to be met by an unknown answer.

There aren't any photos of her. Neither Natalie Scatorccio or Misty Quigley. It's weird. It's clearly at this point of how well the podcast is going, there aren't any traces of Jackie Taylor or Shauna. Three seasons and a ghost face to the public.

For a part she is surprised, but the other part she felt proud. I mean, how many people who listen to this podcast could put a face to Jackie Taylor? A few ones, Y/N is one of them.

•••

A few days later and Y/N went to the same club she collided with Jackie. She couldn't help it, the mystery attracted her.

She walked inside of the crowded club, going to the bar to ask for a drink. While she waited for it after she ordered, her senses were on alert. She didn't like going out, plus nobody knew about her sexuality, so sometimes Y/N came to this lesbian club in New York, but afraid someone could recognise her. It's an internal feeling she has been battling for a long time, the only person knowing about her sexuality is her therapist.

Y/N thanked the bartender when they came with her drink and gave a sip, her eyes scanning the dance floor. And she spotted her, just like that. She isn't dancing, but she is close to the dance floor. Her head leaning to the unknown woman, whispering something with a smirk on her ear. Y/N could only see her face, the constant smile resting on her lipgloss mouth.

After thinking, Y/N decides to go to the dance floor, emptying her mind and letting herself loosen. She closed her eyes, focusing on the music, her body starting to move to the beat in a slow and sensual way. Sometimes she could feel the people surrounding her, but going away when notices she is ignoring them. Song after song, Y/N's body started to feel tired, the work hours affected her a little, until a perfume she knew too well hit her nostrils. Y/N still kept her eyes closed dancing, feeling her breath on her shoulder while she sneaked an arm around her waist, closing the gap between their bodies and dancing to the same beat.

This time she opened her eyes and moved her head to the left, seeing Jackie's bangs messed and her hazel doe eyes looking back at her, smirking.

"Am I finally the lucky woman to have you tonight?" She rasped on her ear, referring to the people who hit on her and failed.

Y/N shrugs, smirking back and turning around, wrapping her arms on her neck. "Maybe." She played, loosening her arms and her smirk widened when Jackie wrapped her other arm on her waist.

Jackie licked her mouth, deciding to lean her head on hers and kissing her lips. Y/N reciprocated, opening her mouth and giving access to Jackie's tongue, a hand going to her cheek meanwhile the hands on her waist going to her ass, squeezing it hard, Jackie smirked when Y/N let out a hiss.

"Let's go." Jackie whispered in her mouth after breaking the kiss, grabbing her hand and walking to a table.

"Wow, you gave for sure that I'm going with you!" She loudly says on her ear, the music is too loud for them to talk in a normal tone.

"I'm confident." Jackie said in a flirty voice, shrugging.

•••

Their irregular breathing matches when Jackie puts on next to her, a hand removing her hair while letting out a laugh. "That's amazing."

Y/N nods next to her, not knowing what to do.

Jackie frowned and looked at her, leaning her head on her hand while putting her elbow on the pillow. "You okay? I know that I'm good," Y/N snorted to this comment, rolling her eyes. Jackie hit her shoulder playful. "You can stay. It's late and I don't want you to go home at this hour." She offers, pulling on the covers on their naked bodies.

"Thanks." Y/N said, blushing a little because she wanted to ask something, she cleared her throat and talked when Jackie looked at her. "I'm sorry, but can you let me get some clothes? It's freezing." She whispered.

"Yeah, of course." Jackie stood up and rummaged into her closet, grabbing an old dark blue sweatshirt and gave it to Y/N. "There you are." She put on a big shirt and lay down.

Y/N thanked her and before she put on it, she could read WHS with a bee on it.

The next morning, Y/N woke up before Jackie and decided to go before the blonde woke up. So, stood up slowly and carefully to not make a sound while she put on her clothes. She closed the door carefully and tipped toe for the dark hall, going to the front door of the apartment and freezing out when someone cleared their throat.

"Coffee?" The unknown person asked when Y/N turned around, a smug smile painted on her lips.

Y/N looks around uncertainty, but nod. She didn't want to be rude. She approached the kitchen and waited for her coffee.

"I'm Shauna." The brunette introduced herself, putting the cup under the machine.

Y/N opened her eyes quickly, so this is Shauna. She cleared her throat when notices she fell silent for a few seconds. "Y/N."

Shauna nods with her head and gives the white cup at her. She sipped her own coffee while her eyes looked at the stranger with curiosity, leaning on the counter. Y/N felt nervous for the intensity look on her. She sipped the coffee and cursed lowly to get burned.

"You can sit down if you want." Shauna said, pointing to the bar stool next to her.

"No, thank you. I need to go to work soon." Y/N declined, explaining the reason. Shauna nods, grabbing her tablet and going to a round table, sitting there.

Y/N sipped her coffee quickly, even if later she would have severely burned spots on her palate. Something on Shauna made her feel nervous, like if she gives a false step, Shauna will know she recognises them. Something is true, but in her defence, she found out randomly. And if Y/N decides to come back to that club it is only Jackie's fault for being charming and other qualities she can't think of now.

"Thank you, Shauna. Bye." Y/N said after putting the cup in the sink.

Shauna removes her gaze from her tablet and gives a lipped smile at her. "You're welcome. Be careful." She wishes kindly.

Y/N nods and left the apartment.

•••

A few days passed. Y/N is in a cafeteria near the hospital where she is having practice. She is on a break, without changing her medical clothes because soon she needed to come back.

She sipped from her drink, depositing it on the table and typing on her laptop. But she raised her eyes up momentarily when saw a few tables away from a brunette she met a few days ago, it made her feel nervous. Y/N checked the hour, she is still ten minutes before her shift started and Shauna seems like she is staying for more than five minutes, that means Y/N needs to pass for her table to exit from there and Shauna would see her.

Y/N saved her project and closed the laptop, saved her belongings and went to pay for the piece of cake and coffee. Maybe if she wasn't so distracted, she could see the knife on the next empty table to fall, but it was too late when someone pushed her and her right hand met the metal, stab in her skin. She let out a loud pain noise, alerting some people around her. Her eyes saw the knife with her blood dripping, it is still stabbed in. Y/N needed to remove it slowly, careful to not damage the wound or brush her tendon.

"Are you okay? Oh my god, there you are!" Some waitresses came and tended her to a rag to cover the wound when she took the knife out.

"Thank you." She said in a weak tone, putting the rag on her hand with a firm knot. "How much for the coffee and that cake?" She asks, signaling with her left hand the cake she asked to have before.

"Oh no! We invite. Please, let me help you." A boy from the same age said, going out from behind. Y/N thanked them again, she could feel how pallid she is turning.

They walked to the exit, Y/N holding with her left hand the other injured one, feeling a warm liquid forming on the rag. "Y/N?" She stopped when Shauna called her. The brunette stood up and walked towards her with a smile until she saw the rag covering with blood, her smile faltering. "What happened?" She questioned with worry.

"I was not paying attention and I stabbed with a knife." She said in a weak voice. "I'm going to the hospital." She informs, trying to give her a smile but failing.

Shauna nods, watching the boy who attended her before. "I'm going with her, Simon. I'll pay tomorrow for my command." She said, grabbing her things and walking towards Y/N, guiding her outside.

The brunette guides her carefully to the big hospital, her body doing the shield on the crowded streets, scowling whenever someone pushes them without apologizing. "You know this place." Y/N said after a while, making Shauna frown confused. "The cafeteria." Y/N specific.

"Yeah, I usually go there because it is nearer where I work." Shauna murmurs, turning right to a street and seeing the big building. "Are you a doctor?" She asked a few minutes later, side eyeing the blue clothes.

"I hope so. I'm in my last year of college." Y/N said, both of them are going in now, they went to the reception and she gives a brief wave with her uninjured hand. "Good Evening Molly. I need a doctor." Then, she proceeded to show her right hand with the rag covered in blood, gaining a gasp from Molly.

"What the hell happened? Let's go, I'm taking you with Stella. She is free now." Molly indicated a door to go, Y/N looked at Shauna and whispered to follow her too. They travelled for some halls until Molly knocked at the door, opening it later when someone gave her permission. "Stella, your intern got injured. Please, fix her."

Molly gave Y/N an affectionate squeeze on her shoulder and smiled softly at Shauna, she left the room.

Stella frowned and walked towards Y/N, telling her to go to the stretcher. Shauna noticed how Y/N's steps were weak, so she helped her and grabbed her left hand to show her some support, the girl thanked her.

Stella grabbed a desk chair and put it in front of them, mainly Y/N. "Put the hand there." She ordered soft. The injured woman did what Stella said and the doctor started to loosen the knot, taking off carefully the rag and throwing it into a bin. Her blue eyes examined the wound, whispering something like it doesn't look bad, needing a few stitches. It relieved somehow Y/N heard that.

"Well, done." Stella said, giving a smile to Y/N. "The next time you injure one of my best interns, be careful." She said, chuckling.

"I'll try my best." Y/N said, blushing a little by the compliment.

"You will be two weeks out. Don't worry, I'll do the paperwork." She kindly said, standing out and throwing away the gloves. "It happens many times, and it is superficial. My advice is, breathe these weeks and come back with the same energy you came the first day." Stella said, patting her shoulder. "I'm going to grab the antibiotics you need and you are free until four days when someone needs to check on your stitches." The three got out of the consulting room, Stella went to do what she said while Shauna and Y/N sat down on the chairs outside the consulting room.

Shauna watched how Y/N moves her leg, a distraught look on her eyes looking at the bandage hand. "It's nothing." She patted her knee, trying to distract her.

"I know..." She whispered, raising her gaze towards her and opening her mouth a few times, she finally said. "I was afraid. I would never forgive myself if for a distraction I throw my dream into nothing." Her voice trembled. Shauna wrapped her left arm around her shoulder and pushed her to herself, Y/N's head on her chest.

"Do you want to hear something stupid and random?" Shauna asks out of the blue, Y/N nod gladly to distract her mind from the previous event. "You are my favourite." Shauna laughs lowly when the girl raises her head confused. "Jackie slept with a lot of women. My opinion is that they are all stupid and foolish. Then, you seem the only one with a brain to understand a hookup night." Y/N closed her eyes and slowly painted a grin, understanding what she meant and letting out a laugh, Shauna laughing too. "But it is funny to see Jackie trying to gently kick them out." She said with a shrug.

They laughed for a few minutes, Y/N let her head on her shoulder this time, sighing. "Can I admit something now?" She asks shyly. She hears how Shauna hummed an affirmative word. Y/N swallow and take a breath. "The next day after I had sex with Jackie, I discovered who she is..." She said lowly, a little embarrassed. "I'm a huge fan of criminal podcasts, and when it finishes there were recommendations and it was put alone when the time finished. So it was how I found out." Y/N explained.

"How the hell would our podcast appear on your recommendations?" Shauna asks aloud, a little incredulous. It made Y/N chuckles a little, thinking the same because the podcast she is into is the opposite of what Jackie Taylor could be. "Wait, Jackie mentioned the other day that you two met, so I'm guessing the second was the other day...?" She says, in a curious voice.

"Yes... Before you judge me, Jackie's voice is powerful. I know it is a lame excuse," she could see the ghost of a smile on Shauna's lips. "I guess I liked the other part I couldn't see that night..." She admitted, embarrassed.

After a moment of silence, Shauna spoke. "Usually, Jackie gave a contract with the person she had fun with and made it sign the next day. I asked her if she gave you the contract, because normally it is Jackie saying goodbye to them, not me. Maybe I'm around to witness the lies she said to them." She stopped, looking at Y/N with a kind look. "She said to me that we didn't need to worry about you." She finishes, shrugging.

Y/N feel confused. "What does that mean?" She lowly asks.

"I don't know." Shauna says sincerely.

At that moment, Stella came and gave her the antibiotics. "Three times during the day." She reminds her before she engulfed Y/N in a hug. "And you, did me a favour and take care of her, yeah?" She said at Shauna with a smile.

Y/N opened her mouth to answer that actually, she and Shauna weren't friends. However Shauna cut her and kindly promised that she kept an eye on her.

"You don't have to do that, you know?" Y/N says, walking to the exit with Shauna beside her.

"Believe me, I'm going to keep my word." The brunette stated, pressing the lift's button. "Starting now." She gazes at her, giggling about the girl's behaviour. It's weird that Shauna expresses some type of interaction with a person that only saw a few minutes the past day.

Shauna offered to drive her to her apartment, after Y/N declined like five times, the next try she said yes. They stayed quiet, hearing the cranberries on the radio, it surprises her a little because if she is honest, Y/N knew two songs about that group. But the little time they passed together, she could appreciate that Shauna is not like the rest.

"We are here." Shauna hummed, parking the car. They got out and Y/N followed her, not daring to say anything because clearly, Shauna doesn't take her to her place. And like if Shauna read her mind, she talks. "Sorry, but we need to record the next episode today so I can fix it tomorrow to have it ready on Thursday."

Y/N opened her eyes. "It's okay... But, do you want me there? I don't want to disturb." She said worried, going inside to a different building where Jackie and Shauna live.

"I'm surprised to offer it." Shauna started, indicating the way with her busy hands. "You seem nice." Was the explanation she gave.

They came out of the lift to the one on the last floor. They passed a few doors and the third one is where Shauna stopped, unblocking the door with her keys. She entered and turned on the lights in the big room, waving at Y/N to pass and close the door behind her.

"It has a lot of glitter..." Y/N muttered, her eyes widening. Shauna agreed with a low laugh. She could appreciate a lot of shelving, full of things, of memories and gifts. The wall had a light lilac tone, some lights scattered on the walls. In the middle there is a rectangular table, three chairs and microphones. A little far away there are two white couches and to the right a cabin with transparent windows, assuming that is the place where Shauna worked. She saw two doors closed, so she slowly walked to a glass cabinet where there were photos, it was old photos. She saw that a blonde with dimples on her cheeks was wearing the same shirt that Jackie gave her the other night. Then, Y/N realised that in fact, they are in their teens years. When her eyes met a teen Jackie with a yellow ribbon on her bun, with a navy blue kit while holding a trophy in the air with a big grin on her face, her heart gave an overturn. Jackie now and before, had almost the same face. Maybe the blonde is a few years older than Y/N, but that photo could have ten years, which means it is ten years older and Jackie barely changed.

"We won the last match to go to Nationals that year... She gave us the pass scoring that last minute goal." Shauna explains, crossing her arms while leaning on the table behind Y/N. "The dyed blonde is Natalie, at that time she and Jackie couldn't see each other. The tall brunette is Charlotte Matthews, she has never been on the podcast and I doubt she would be, but she hung out here sometimes. Busy with work now, she is a producer musician." Shauna walks next to Y/N, pointing the mentioned ones. "Ex girlfriends." At this Y/N let out a chuckle, seeing a photo where Natalie and Lottie are having some good time playing the guitar.

"She is Misty, you can't recognise her now. From all of us, she is the one who changed the most but remained the same inside. Smart, dark humour and tragic theatre recite." Y/N beamed a little, she only heard a few podcasts of them, but Misty seems really an interesting person. At least the topics she talked about, detailed it really well. "Van Palmer. If you want to survive never call them on their full name." Y/N painted a smile and could appreciate the photo where they all are together in a party, the redhead seems a little pissed compared with the others one where they were always doing a silly face or smirking. Then, she focused better and saw a big scar on their left cheek, it seems fresh. "Van got bit by a wolf in a trip with the high school's last year in Canada. I know, shocking. They hated it before, but now love it." Shauna explains, smiling at the end. "Laura Lee. The perfect, loving and happy girl that loved to tell us about our sins, very catholic if you don't catch up. She now has an erotic shop, very successful if you ask me..." Shauna pointed to a blonde, smiling face in a photo posing and behind her a small plane, next to her were an unknown face and Charlotte.

"This is Taissa. Our political friend. Badass and not scared to say what she thinks. She is a frequent guest here." A fierce gaze, big curly hair and proud smile while she held the same trophy Jackie did. Very attractive and showing a strong aura, Y/N could see through her features how Shauna described her. Y/N needed to hear the episodes where she is featuring. "Here's Mari. She doesn't have filter to say anything passing for her mind. Best karaoke singer, actually studying to become a soccer coach." She pointed to a girl who looks similar to Charlotte, with bangs and her eyes shrinking from laughing. "These are Akhila and Crystal. They help me with edition sometimes." Shauna finished, showing her a picture where the three are in the studio, having a break and giving tired smiles to the camera.

Before Y/N could ask something, two new voices were heard when someone opened the front door. They turned to look at them, seeing how the smile from Jackie's face dropped, transforming in a shocked face. Next to her was a redhead with long hair, the colour of their hair brightening the whole room.

"What are you doing here!? And are you a doctor!?" Jackie asked twice, her eyes scanning what Y/N was wearing. She throw her purse to the near couch and walked towards the pair, the shock turning in a new emotion, worry. "Oh my god your hand!"

Y/N looks briefly to her injured hand, then to Jackie again. "It's okay. I have a few stitches but I'm fine." She reassured her when saw how her eyes opened more when heard the stitches word. "And not, I'm not a doctor. But hopefully becoming one at the end of this year." She clears out, smiling timid.

Jackie looked at Shauna, suspicious. "Since when you two know each other?"

Shauna opened her mouth to explain the whole situation, but Y/N has an idea and interrupted her. "Well, she is my girlfriend." She almost let out a big laugh when Jackie gasped and Shauna looks at her with an alarming look. With her left hand grabbed Shauna's hand, intertwining them. Behind Jackie, Y/N saw the mischief look that Van is throwing at her, catching the lie immediately but remaining quiet.

The hazel eyed woman blinked a few times, still surprised. Then, she gazes intensely at her best friend and knew when the brown eyes moves away from her that this is not real. "Very funny." She said sarcastically, crossing her arms and looking playfully to Y/N. "I know this one for twenty three years, honey."

Y/N rolls her eyes, however inside her, her mind got dizzy and her heartbeat accelerate when Jackie gave her that pet name. "I wanted to see your reaction." She smugly said, shrugging and giving her an innocent look.

"Shit. So she is your girlfriend?" Van spoke for the first time, sitting on one of the couch.

Jackie turned to look at them with a startled face, while her cheeks start to turn red. "She is not my girlf-," she cut herself when saw the smugness on Van's freckles face. "Shut up, Van." Then, she turned to look at the pair, ignoring her warming cheeks. Her eyes noticed that they still holding hands.

Shauna let out Y/N's hand and cleared her throat. "I saw her in Sunny's cafeteria and I offered to accompany her to the hospital, where she is working." She looks at Y/N for confirmation and relief showed on her face when she nodded, confirming her explanation. "Also, I bring her because it was getting late." She said in a small voice, scratching her neck awkwardly.

"And you trust her?" Van asks, a little surprised. She knew Shauna is difficult to let people know about the podcast.

The brunette gave them a pointed glare. "Yes. The contrary she couldn't been her." She harshly said, walking away and going to her room, closing the door behind to let know that she wants to be alone.

Van snort. "So Shauna." She murmurs, sipping from her water. "Anyway, I'm Van." The redhead introduced to Y/N, smiling kindly when the girl sat down next to her, Jackie trailing behind her.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N. Jackie's hookup." Van burst out laughing while Jackie whined behind them, scolding Y/N.

"I like her." Van commented when their laugh die. "You hear it before?"

"About the podcast?" Y/N asks, the redhead nods. "A few episodes. I heard the Epitome and the Cheeseburger." She admitted.

Van hummed. "Well, there are good ones. You can witness on live today." They winked at her.

"Depends... Topic?" Y/N felt relaxed and play along with the redhead.

"About various topics. I'm a gamer who is friend with a cliché with legs. What do you think it could be?" Van rhetorically ask, leaning their head on their hand on the couch back.

Y/N snorted. "Be careful with your words, Palmer. I'm the boss here." Jackie muttered, sitting in the rectangular table with the laptop on. Her hair now in a mess ponytail, and she still looks beautiful. Her beige jacket wrapping her small figure, and her hazel eyes looking through the sophisticated glasses to the screen.

"Sorry, boss." Van mocked, not bothered by her friend's warnings words.

Y/N fix her eyes on the scar. She tried to avoid the lingering stare on it, not wanting Van feeling uncomfortable. But the problem is that Y/N from a long time, adores the scars and could be mean if the doctor who did it was a botched job or praise who the art work.

"The doctor who stitches you was a rougher and careless..." She whispers, clearly without intentions to say it loudly. Her eyes opened a lot when Van turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "Shit, sorry. I mean, it could be better stitched. It is not bad, but could be better." She explains, nervously.

Jackie raised her head curiously. Van's scar barely is mentioned and nobody dare to say something about it. Not because they are scared, they saw how bad and painful it made Van in the past, that they wanted to bring back what the redhead lived. "You are a freak about it, do you?" Their voice is calm, a tiny smirk showing on their lips. The blonde sighs relieved.

"Yeah... Can I?" Y/N shyly asks, explaining with her hand what she wants to do. Van nods, leaning their head aside to let more access. Y/N's index finger traced slowly the scar, it's big but frames perfectly their features. Maybe it could be a little thinner, but maybe the circumstances were different and it needed to be quickly.

Van's eyes catches the gaze that Jackie was throwing at them, specially at Y/N. They could see the soft on her eyes and the corner of her lips turning up. When Jackie moves her gaze towards Van, this one put their thumb up, making her to rolls her eyes.

"Alright! We are starting in five minutes. Y/N, please come with me." Shauna approachs again, warning her friends.

Y/N separated and nodded at Shauna, before she stood up, looked back to Van. "It's beautiful." She murmurs, standing up and walking to where Shauna is, closing the door carefully.

"You need date her or I'm doing it." Van whispered at Jackie when passed next to her.

"Sit down and talk about video games." She grumbled.

•••

Shauna's eyes travelled to her right sometime, scanning Y/N's face when she noticed at the start of the episode that her face started to change. With a sight, she pushed away the black headphones and put them hanging on her neck, her full vision entirely on Y/N.

"Do you need anything?" She whispers, seeing now the pain written on her face. She knew that the woman tried to deny it with a smile, but it was impossible. "I'm going to take your pills and a glass of water." She informed her, squeezing her arm. "Keep talking, I need to go grab something that I forget in the living room." Shauna let them know, sometimes she did it in the past. They keep talking while Jackie puts her thumbs up.

Van keeps explaining the good game Baldur's Gate 3 is to someone in front of her that the only game she played was the sims. Jackie advertised her eyes from the redhead and looked at Shauna when she came out and started to rummage on a white bag. She can't see it properly, only it is a rectangular box. The brunette gave her a quick small smile and returned inside of the cabin, closing the door softly behind her.

"The other day I played with Shauna to guess Taylor Swift's songs... It counts?" Jackie says, smiling while Van scoffs, muttering under their breath. Y/N looks at the interactive entertainment, seeing how Jackie put up her leg and reposed her arm there, laughing at something Van said.

"There you are." Shauna approached with a glass of water and the pills Stella gave Y/N earlier. The brunette sat down where she was before, next to Y/N and when she saw the other took it, more relaxed she paid attention to her friends, smiling at some old anecdote that Van is telling about Jackie.

The time passed and Y/N was feeling better, but sleepy. She removed the headphones Shauna gave her before and leaned her back to the seat, hiding a yawn between her hands. Slowly her head met Shauna's shoulder, finding comfort there. The brown eyed woman looked at the weight on her shoulder, seeing a very sleepy Y/N with her mouth half opened. She knew that if she moved, Y/N wouldn't wake up too easily thanks to the pills. So moving her right arm slower, and with the passing time her arm started to feel numb, the new episode finished.

Jackie went to the cabin when no one came out from there. She opened the door and witnessed how Shauna was struggling to remove Y/N's head from her shoulder without waking her up. The blonde leaned on the frame door, crossing her arms and clearing her throat with a smug smile.

"Need some help?" She rasped out, chuckling when Shauna gave her a pleading look. Jackie walks in and gently removes Y/N's head to the chair, removing some strand of hair from her face and admiring her features while doing it. Then, her eyes find the injured hand and worry is installed in her mind. "Why did you come out before?" She whispers.

"She was in pain. I grabbed some pills the doctor gave her." Shauna explains, standing up and clearing out her desk. "What are we doing? We take her to our home or take her to hers?" She asks, stopping with a notebook on hand and the other with her bag, looking at Jackie.

"Well, for me I have no problem with her staying with us... Do you?" Jackie placed her hands on Y/N's shoulders to hold her and not falling from the chair. Her hazel eyes found Shauna's brown ones, unintentionally giving her a pleading and hopeful gaze.

"You are the only one who is going to sleep with her in the same bed." Shauna states, shrugging and saving her things.

Van approached there too and saw how the blonde started to call the name of the woman sitting there in vain, because Y/N is passed out. "I can help you with her." The redhead says, walking towards them and lifting Y/N up, wrapping an arm around her waist while the other one passes Y/N's arm around their neck, holding her hand with them.

"I'm going to grab my things and I will help you!" Jackie says, walking out quickly. Van walked carefully with Y/N by her side, Shauna helping her and stepping out when Jackie comes back. "Van brought me with them." She informed Shauna when they left the studio and the brunette is closing the door with her keys.

"Jacks, I know it. You have a car like an accessory." Shauna says in an obvious tone, smirking when Jackie hits her arm playfully.

When Y/N opened her eyes it was dark. A low volume of music playing in the distance and someone speaking in a low voice. She blinked a few times, disoriented. She looked around and noticed she was in a car, in the back part.

A throb of pain on her right hand made her let out a hiss of pain, sitting better and bringing her hand to her chest. A head turned to look at her, turning on the light and illuminating the whole car, making Y/N shrink her eyes.

"Shit, sorry!" Jackie murmured, lowering the light. "Are you feeling better?" Her doe hazel eyes pooled with worry, she heard the pained expression Y/N let out.

Y/N nods. "Where are we going? And... How did I get here?" She is confused, looking at the inside of the car.

"Van help us to bring you to Shauna's car." Jackie explains. "And we are going to our apartment. I hope it is okay." She gifted Y/N with one of her famous smiles.

Y/N holds her breath. "You don't have to. I can call a Uber." She said, not wanting to be a burden to them.

"Don't say nonsense." Shauna spoke this time, her eyes moving to the review mirror and gazing at her. "Also, your friend needs to keep an eye on the best student." She winked at her.

Jackie frowns, gazing at her friend confused and alternating her gaze with Y/N, who blushed. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing." Shauna hummed, turning a corner. "We are here."

•••

"You have a nice apartment." Jackie complimented after her eyes scanned the living room and sat down in a stool in the open kitchen.

"Thank you. My parents searched for this and paid the rent, so..." Y/N says with a sarcastic smile.

Jackie snort, seeing the girl with fresh clothes now take the juice from the fridge. "You are rich. I know the sentiment. My parents are too and constantly paid for my things. Then, I went to college and I worked and I don't feel more free in my life." She explains, letting out a tiny laugh and shrugs her shoulders.

"I can't imagine their reaction when you told them about how you are dedicating now." Y/N says in a teasing tone, sitting next to her.

"No happiness at first... But later they accept it and they are my biggest fans." She admitted, her two buns made her look more innocent when her hazel eyed lit gazing at Y/N. "But I'm sure your parents are over the moon with your job's choice. C'mon, surgeon?" It was her turn to tease Y/N.

Last night, while they were laying on Jackie's bed they talked a little about their lives. And Y/N mentioned the blonde to what she wanted to be.

"They are happy." Y/N nods, laughing a little. "But it's for passion and admiration from an early age. I always liked the idea of healing people... And like you can hear yesterday I'm a huge weirdo for scars..." She slowly says, playing with the half empty orange bottle. "I know I'm privileged to have parents to pay for everything. But I think they do it for the amount of absence in my childhood that they reward me with money..." She said with her gaze lost, shaking her head when notices she shared too much. "Sorry, I should let it to my psychologist."

Jackie bit her lip, that story sounds to her. No because their parents did it, she had luck to have them there always. She put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I can share my shit in my teens." She tried to light the mood.

"Sure. I would love to hear Jackie in a difficult situation." Y/N snorted. She didn't know her too much, but Jackie emits that she was miss perfect.

"I know what you are thinking." Jackie started, removing her hand from her shoulder and starting to play with her rings. She made a thinking face, looking at the ceiling. "I remember the pressure about being perfect, after all it was what they waited for me. I remember how my mind blamed me for not doing what they wanted. Slowly I stopped to eat like I usually did. A small amount of food, counting the calories... I think soccer saves me from something bigger." She opened, her eyes brightening for the tears. She does not cry, but it's painful for her to remember those years.

Y/N felt shocked. In a million years she imagined something like that. She scolded herself to judge her. "Jackie..." She didn't know what to say so she wrapped her in an embrace.

"I'm fine now. My family and friends help me a lot. My psychologist too, so I'm glad you go there to let out your shit." The blonde patted the arm wrapped on her neck, the marshmallow soup Y/N used, hit her nostrils.

They stayed in silence. Y/N processing what the blonde told her and Jackie too distracted about the few freckles scattered on Y/N's arm.

"You don't seem surprised about me being a famous podcast presenter." Jackie hummed, smiling when Y/N let out a laugh.

Y/N removed her arms around Jackie. "And you seem disappointed about it." She sang.

"Well... Maybe." Jackie played along.

They stared at each other while the silence enveloped them in their bubble, until a song interrupted their moment. Jackie cursed in her mind and apologized to answer Shauna's call.

"Sorry, I need to go. I will text you later and hang up soon, okay?" Jackie came from the living room, grabbing her big caramel bag and walked towards Y/N, embracing her.

"Don't worry. Since I have some free time I will go to visit my parents and maybe listen to the rest of the episodes..." Y/N says, chuckling softly.

"I'm flattered, but you won't regret it I promise." Jackie kissed her cheek and walked away when Y/N said goodbye, who stayed looking at the back of the black coat she wears.

•••

Days passed, Jackie and Y/N's bond got stronger. Texting every day and every hour. Every text that Y/N received from the blonde, let a big grin on her face.

Shauna helped Y/N too. Always calling her once a day to check on her. She even invited Y/N to go back to the studio, but she denied not wanting to overstep.

At this point, Y/N heard the full two seasons and half of the third, that it was still in the air. She can't deny that Taissa Turner is one of her favourite guests, loving how Taissa made her explanation with good arguments and not disrespecting different opinions.

Charming Voice: hey you! Some of us wanted to disturb Shauna's peace. You in?

Y/N laughed to herself when read the message before unblocking her phone. She is busy changing the bandage to answer immediately so, opted to call her.

"What do you say?" Jackie answered the call at the third tone, her voice echoing in the silence bathroom.

"I love the idea! I need to change my clothes because I just showered and put on my pyjamas. Give me the direction and drive there." Y/N explained, rolling her eyes when the bandage didn't stay like she wanted.

"Are you driving there? Are you crazy!? Forget about it, I make Shauna or Natalie drive to your apartment." Jackie says firm, some noise was heard in the background. "Shut up, Nat." She grumbled, making Y/N laugh.

"You know what? I'm not going to discuss with you this time. You know where I live. See you now!" Y/N says, hanging up the call when Jackie agrees.

Y/N opted to wear something casual, not in the mood to fix her. 20 minutes later, Jackie texted her that they were waiting for her.

"You look stunning!" Jackie yells at her from her seat, the window down. Y/N walked to Shauna's car, blushing a little by her words.

"You said that to everyone." Y/N stated, going in and waving at Shauna and the unknown person in the back seat.

"I'm Natalie." The blonde introduced, waving with her hand in the air and giving her a polite smile, a dimple showing up on her right cheek.

Y/N wanted to jump in the seat, too excited to finally meet in person to a frequent guest in the Glitter Things podcast. So, she just holds her enthusiasm and introduces herself politely.

"I guess Jackie can't convince you to drive her here." Y/N jokes when Shauna drives to another part.

Natalie let out a deep chuckle. "Yeah, however I almost made her drive me here." She said, giving a teasing smirk to the blonde when she turned at them.

"Well, is Shauna who did it, I think." Y/N says back, making Natalie laugh and the other gives an apologetic smile in return to Shauna when the brunette looks at her in the reviews mirror.

"Van's right, you are funny." Nat murmured, her black eyeliner giving intensity to her deep blue eyes.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, surprised to hear it. Van talked about her with Nat? And maybe with other friends that usually approach the podcasts? She feels like she can faint at any moment. The reason? Jackie Taylor. Why? To be cool. No matter what the reason is, for Y/N meet some cool women that approached in Glitter Things is Jackie's fault.

"Am I?" She questioned in a low voice.

Natalie bit her lip and nod, right now both dimples showed up on her cheeks when she fully grin at her.

"Can I have Y/N's attention to myself? Thank you." Jackie loudly said in a fake innocent voice and looked at Natalie with the same expression. The dyed blonde rolled her eyes, but made a signal with both of her hands to Y/N to indicate that she is hers now. "We are going to karaoke. Prepare yourself to sing with all of us some Taylor's songs and with Shauna Green Day's. Natalie doesn't sing, only smoke." Natalie showed her middle finger when Jackie teased her.

"I like Green Day!" Y/N cheerfully said, grinning big when heard that someone else likes them. Shauna gives her a shy smile.

"I think your shoot turned in another direction." Natalie muttered, looking by the window and holding her laugh.

Jackie gave her a death glare.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, not knowing what that means. Instead she remembers when Shauna told her about the two to not get along in the past.

They arrived at the karaoke bar, Jackie giving Y/N a hug when she got out of the car and immediately starting to tell how the new recording of the episode went when Y/N asked her how it went.

Jackie intertwined her arm with hers, walking inside while Shauna and Natalie walked behind them, chatting and correcting some of Jackie's parts of the story.

"Finally! One more song about Harry Styles and I cut my veins." Van exclaimed when they approached, smiling when their eyes met Y/N. "You came! How are you?" They kindly ask for her hand.

"Hi! I'm fine, thank you for asking. Someone sang American Pie? It is not a karaoke night when nobody sings that song." Y/N says.

"Oh my god! Yes! There are three people who sang that. You think like me! Can I bring you a drink?" The last part the redhead said in a fake flirty voice, but enough to make Y/N laugh.

When Van disappeared with Natalie to bring their drinks, Jackie introduced at her a tall brunette with a kind smile and soft brown eyes. She wears a pink top and a black skirt, accentuating her long legs. Unlike in the photo, her bangs disappeared and her long hair was cut, letting it go about her shoulders.

"Call me Lottie, please." She said in a kind voice, leaning down and embracing her briefly. Y/N couldn't deny how beautiful she is. And how good she smells. "Tai can't come and Laura Lee is getting late." She informed Jackie.

The rest of the night Y/N laughed a lot. Van's jokes with Natalie sarcasm's comment brought tears to her eyes from laughter. Misty Quigley joined the little group, she and Y/N engulfing in an interesting conversation. Then, the part where they all go upstairs to sing, Jackie brought with her a tired Shauna with hers to sing a Taylor Swift song. The next one was Van and Y/N, choosing for a 80's song.

"I'm glad you got along with all of them." Jackie sat down next to her after finishing the song with Misty and Natalie, for the dismay of the last one.

Y/N grin, drinking from her cup. "Thank you, Jackie. I needed this and you helped me a lot these days. Your friends are amazing." She sincerely said, maybe the alcohol had something to do with it.

Jackie gave her a sincere smile, putting her hand on hers. "I'm happy to help you. And about that they are amazing... We are keeping those words away from them." She joked, gazing at her with a fascinating look.

"Can I ask you something?" Y/N leaned on her ear for her to listen. When Jackie nodded, she leaned again. "I don't judge you but... Don't you want people to put a face to your amazing skills with the microphone? I mean, you are so talented and you are easy with words. It's a shame they can't see how pretty you are." At this confession, Jackie's cheeks almost explode for the intensity of how warm they felt.

She cleared her throat, trying to answer honestly about it. So this time she leaned to her and spoke on her ear. "At first I wanted people to know me! But contrary to me, Shauna wasn't. And for the first time in my life, I made the right decision to stay anonymous until someone finds us." Her hazel eyes meet Y/N's, the eyes that from a few nights were in her mind. "It's fun to read comments and theories about us." She finished, sipping from her drink.

"Jackie, let's go!" Van came and grabbed her hand, the rest of the group going on stage.

"We are going to sing our song. It's a tradition. Do you want to come or witness our talent?" Jackie says.

"I prefer the second choice." Y/N reply, feeling a little too dizzy to go there and sing. That and not wanting to overstep on their song.

Jackie nodded and before she stood up, she leaned and kissed her cheek. Then, Van dragged her after asking Y/N to record it.

Y/N finishes to record the song with her cheeks burning. The group made her the target to sing at the top of their lungs at her, bringing attention from the rest of the people there. The worst were the redhead and Natalie, putting up a scene.

•••

The next day, Jackie offered to take Y/N to the hospital and removed the stitches. It surprises Shauna that finally her friend could use the car that their parents brought her after finishing college.

"Guys you don't believe it but Jackie is going to use her car!" Jackie rolled her eyes when hear Shauna say it when she stayed outside for Y/N's request and entered the buzz's chat.

The rest of the reply were they all making fun of her. She typed a quick answer and sent them all a picture of her middle finger.

"Why do you look so pissed?" Y/N approaches, holding a laugh.

"They are making fun of me." Instantly a pout makes passes on her features. Then, Jackie noticed that Y/N isn't wearing a bandage anymore and changing her expression for a happy one. "Let me see!" She extended her hand to grab Y/N right one, seeing a fresh little scar between her thumb and index fingers.

A new person approached behind Y/N. "New like a rose! Ivan told me you are here. How are you?" Y/N turned and let out a bright smile, hugging the woman.

"Stella! You are right, I don't know how many things I've been missing. I'm going to miss them when I come back." She gave her a brief pout.

"I told you!" Stella laughed, her gaze now in Jackie. "Hey, I don't know you came with your girlfriend." Y/N opened her eyes, blushing like crazy.

Jackie copied her gesture, but let out a nervous laugh. "We are not girlfriends..." She corrected her kindly.

"Oh sorry! You two looked like a couple, my fault!" The blonde apologises.

After that, Jackie notices how uncomfortable Y/N is. She decided to sit down Y/N where she was before and she took the seat next to her. "What's wrong?" She questioned gently, her hand stroking the palm of Y/N's hand, careful to not touch the scar.

"People don't know about me..." She struggles a little to say it loudly. She felt comfortable talking about it with Clare, her psychologist.

Jackie brushed her thumb to her chin and gave her the kindest gaze that no one gave her in her life. "There is not a rule to say to everyone that you are gay." She whispers. "You know, my parents found out when I went to college and saw my diary. I ranted a lot about Trinity Damon, the captain cheerleader. I always knew it and also denied it and I don't know why. It's okay if you are comfortable with people not knowing it, the problem comes when you hide who you are."

Y/N hides her head on her neck, finding comfort in her words. Jackie wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning her head on hers.

"Sometimes I feel like Leighton Murray." Y/N commented, making Jackie let out a big laugh.

"Yes, you are! Rich, gay and pretty." Y/N hit her arm playfully, raising her head from her neck.

When they come back to Jackie's car, Y/N discreetly takes a photo of her driving and sends it to Shauna. When Jackie opened the group chat she pouted at Y/N, whining.

"She didn't leave me live for it, Y/N!" Jackie protests, groaning. They went to her studio, the blonde wanted Y/N there to record the episode of that week.

"She or they?" Y/N hummed, laughing when Jackie sent her a warning glare. "You are cute." She pinched her cheek, only for the blonde to remove her hand away.

"You need to stay away from Van and Natalie. They are a bad influence on you." Jackie sighed, going out from the lift.

Y/N entered behind Jackie to the studio and almost passed out when saw a big curly hair chuckle to something Van said. Y/N slapped repeatedly on Jackie's arm, making this one to let out a trial of giggles.

"Big fan, uhm?" Jackie teases her. She planned it, for today's episode Shauna and herself thought to bring a special one where the majority of them showed up there, less Lottie, who for much she and Shauna begged, she remains to her word, but with the promise she can witness the moment from a distance. Y/N hides behind Jackie when she walks towards the group gathering on the couches.

Shauna steps towards Y/N, with enough confidence she grabbed the hand and scanned the scar, a small smile on her mouth. "Stella did a good job." She commented.

Y/N only smiled and hugged her, after all Shauna helped her that day and maybe thanks to her, she maintained contact with Jackie and met them all, including Shauna.

"Do you approach too?" She asked curiously at Shauna.

"Crystal and Akhila are here. So yes, I'm going to approach." She shyly said. Y/N clapped content, squeezing her round cheeks with her hands. "Stop it, you are spending too much time with Jackie." It made Y/N snort, remembering the previous Jackie's words.

A pair of arms wrapped around Y/N's waist, lifting her and making her let out a little scream. "It's me, Van." The redhead chuckles, putting her down and giving a side hug to her. "Taissa come here please!" Jackie asked Van if they could introduce Taissa to her, because if the blonde did it would be suspicious. Y/N swallowed nervously. Taissa walked towards them with a warm smile, removing her hair aside. "She is Y/N, a future addition to this wonderful lesbian group." Van introduced, gaining some laughter from their friends.

Y/N looked at Jackie, but this one gave her an imperceptible nod to her way, smiling. "The only one who made Jackie drive, nice to meet you." She sent a sheepishly smile to Jackie, who rolled her eyes but kept smiling. The full room burst out laughing.

Taissa laughed, greeting her with a hug. "I heard from you, nice to finally meet you. Wonderful words I promise." She reassured, intertwining her arm with Van's. "This one gossip about everything, just a warning." Van gasped offended, dramatically putting a hand on their chest. Taissa just rolled her eyes.

When Y/N greeted the rest of the group, introducing Akhila and Crystal too, they all gathered at the big table, letting out Lottie who remained on the couch. Jackie grabbed Y/N's hand and walked with her towards another room, a kitchen. Of course they have a kitchen too, she thought.

"Before I start, I wanted to ask you something..." She nervously said, playing with her fingers. She cleared her throat when Y/N nodded. "Can you go on a date with me?" She really feels nervous, Y/N could see not only through her actions, from her constant biting on her lip and her breath.

"I love to." Y/N decides to not tease her this time. "First time asking it?" She asks softly, playing with Jackie's ring, it seems that it relaxed her a little.

"I never had a girlfriend..." She admitted. "When I accepted who I am, I only slept with women. There are two times where I felt a little more, but I ran away." She explains, calmly. "The last one told me that she hoped the day I fell in love, they don't run away." Y/N could see that for much Jackie tried to hide how scared she felt, her doe eyes betrayed her.

She closed the distance and placed her lips on hers in a brief touch but enough to let her know that she is on the same page as her. "I never have a girlfriend either..." She confesses.

"I don't mind discovering this side if you are by my side." Jackie brushed her nose with hers, placing now her hand on her hips.

Y/N chuckles. "That's cheesy."

"Shut up." Jackie whispered, rolling her eyes.

A bang on the door alerted them. "Jackie stop sucking her face and come out!" Natalie yells on the other side.

"I'm going to kill her." Jackie muttered, Y/N only laughed. They come out, Jackie going to sit in her usual seat while Y/N sat down next to Lottie.

Y/N watches them all with a big smile on her face. Widening when she saw Jackie so relaxed and doing what she likes, laughing and carefree. Because Jackie is the reflection of her friends, and without them, this podcast never existed.

[neverniko101]

I wanna see octopus lime be affectionate to curd before he inevitably kills him :(( curd has been so nice,,, big fluffy boy deserves pets from princy

Mmmmm

Since the Siren seems to be popular, have a little outline of what his and Curd’s life would be like if they *did* escape the cabin (and if all the Narrator/Shifting mound/Timeline stuff stopped)

First off, Curd would get rushed away to the hospital. His arm would end up in a splint and be a little weaker even once it healed, but he’d still be able to hold things and function mostly the same. He and the Prince would report (most of) what happened in the Cabin to the local Royal Guard, but no evidence could ever be found. Once they had both settled into tiny apartments with somewhat decent jobs (Curd would have a job in the Royal Guard, likely working in the kitchens or with the animals, The Prince likely finding some little market or bookstore that was hiring), they decided to split ways. There was a lot that had happened, and they still weren’t quite sure how the felt about the other.

They would both attend therapy sessions—probably at the same therapist, but they would never know. The Prince is able to process some of his attachment issues, and Curd to manage his anxiety and trauma. A little while after they left the cabin— a year, maybe— the two agree to meet up again. Despite everything that had happened, they still has stray thoughts about the other, wondered how they were doing. Curd suggested that they talk more, maybe send letters or have little meet-ups, slowly building a steady friendship. The Prince, who couldn’t go by “the Prince” all the time, decided on the name of Cole. Curd discovers a passion for baking, leading Cole to dump piles of cookbooks at his front door every day until the house physically can’t fit any more. Cole decides to adopt a cat, who Curd names Mr. Buttons (much to Cole’s annoyance and secret amusement).

Over time, friendship turns into more. They decide to start dating, preferring to meet in secluded spots like quiet parks and the back of bookstores. Curd and Cole both care about the other to a fault, often putting their partner first at their own expense. They do recognize this though, and are trying to take little steps towards change—maybe dedicated “self care” hours where they take time to specifically do what they want. Cole is very careful about only providing physical affection when Curd instigates it, since he never wants a repeat of the canon. Both of them live cuddling and showering the other one with affection, often spending the night curled up on the couch together watching horror movies.

Uhhhh that’s all I got adios

[nerdygaymormon]

Final Session, Nov 2024

In May 2023 I was diagnosed with an eating disorder and began therapy. I binge and I chew & spit, or rather I did. Over the past 20 months I've managed to overcome this disordered eating. It's been quite a journey and I've learned a lot about the how's and why's and my long history with disordered eating.

I go to a facility associated with a university and I see students who are overseen by a licensed psychologist. It means every semester I see a different therapist (it also means I pay bargain rates). It's been interesting to see so many therapists and their different approaches and how their personality and viewpoint makes a big difference in the way the sessions go.

At my previous session, we spoke about the hurricane, the stress of it and losing power for days and how my eating behavior changed. I turned to comfort foods and I couldn't cook so lots of canned and instant foods. However, within a week I was back onto more healthy eating and back to cooking several meals in one go and storing them in the fridge.

At the end of that session, the therapist asked if it would be alright if he read my blog post from 2017 which went viral and outed me to everyone. I've referenced it several times, it is clear it was an important moment for me and had a big impact on my life. Tbh, his request surprised me and felt invasive. I know that reading the blog post would then give him access to read the rest of my blog. Of course I talk about a lot of private things with him that I don't share on my blog but in my sessions with him I hadn't really discussed my current relationship with church and faith. I gave him the links to the blog post because he had a good reason for wanting to read it and I've learned my anxiety often senses danger where there isn't any.

I arrived for my current session and the therapist came to the lobby to bring me back, and he was dressed in a way that accentuated his body (he must be a weightlifter). I was walking behind him noticing his bubble butt and I thought to myself, "I don't know if I can meet with a therapist I find attractive." 😅

When we got to the room, he told me he read my blog post, it seems like it was a beautiful experience. Then he asked me what is my current relationship with this church and faith? I shared that there's a difference in my belief and actions. My beliefs have changed so much over the past few years, even as I continue going to church. He asked if I still hold the position I did in the blog post (stake executive secretary). I indeed do have that position. I shared that the calling often gives me a chance to be at church without actually attending the worship service, or even when i do go to the worship service I don't go to Sunday School, instead I go do an office to do this position.

He asked why I still go because it sounds like I'd rather not be there. I know that it seems contradictory, but it's not a simple choice of go or not, it affects other things. When the blog post went viral in 2017 and basically outed me to everyone, I had siblings say that access to see their children was dependent on me remaining in church. My mom is homophobic and me going to church helps keep the peace. To stop going to church comes with some big consequences. He looked stunned and asked if they really gave ultimatums like that. Yes they did, so if that's their position, does that mean I wouldn't be welcome at family gatherings, will it be me or them & their kids?

Plus, I live in the same house as my parents. Were I to not go to church, that would likely cause tension. I've looked at moving out but apartment rents are wildly high and would take a lot of my income. Just explaining that there's a lot of layers to consider to this decision. Also, it's not like any organization is all good or all bad, there are some positive things about church and this community, I have many friends there.

I know I am not supposed to live my life for them, it is MY life, yet I love and want to be part of my family. It feels like I have been set on a branch of the family tree and told it's up to me whether I want to use the saw to cut myself off from them. Because of that, most of them don't know much of anything that goes on in my life because I don't share with them, I don't think they'd welcome hearing about it since it's related to me being gay. I have another side of my life with gay and queer friends. I am involved in organizations for queer people. I have two sides to my life that often don't feel like they fit together.

Then on top of that, this election scares me. Project 2025 has very anti-queer goals and many of those people will be in government trying to move those goals forward. When I woke up Wednesday morning to see the winner of the election, I took some deep breaths, I didn't turn on the news or listen to any podcasts, I ate a healthy breakfast and went to work. I don't have the emotional bandwidth right now to do more than take care of myself.

I thought to myself that I have lived through worse. No matter how much they try to roll back LGBTQ rights, it won't go all the way back to where it used to be. But with that said, it will be a struggle because we've gotten used to the better climate, to being able to be out and open, to having legal protections that others take for granted. So much of queer rights have come from the Supreme Court, and with President Trump likely getting to name several more justices to that court, I foresee them undoing those rights, and the legislature and president won't fight to restore those rights through legislation.

I was 25 years old when the Supreme Court ruled that laws can't target queer people to restrict them and their rights, that laws couldn't exempt queer people from protections that other people get. I was 32 years old when sodomy laws were struck down by the Supreme Court, which means I spent over half my life with gay relationships being illegal. It was less than 10 years ago that the Supreme Court decided I could get married and only 4 years ago when it decided employees couldn't be fired simply for being gay and trans. It's the court which has step-by-step allowed me the opportunity to live life similar to non-queer citizens, and now I fear it can take that away.

I can't change or fix any of that. Whether it's my family, my church, my government, I will have to deal with the fallout from just trying to live a normal life, the kind of life that other people feel so entitled to that they don't ever contemplate what if that was not possible for them.

I think I'm clear-eyed on what my options are and the consequences of them. Sure, I've kicked the can down the road about my family and my church because there's sure to be a lot of negative consequences, but it can't wait forever. Over the past 7 years since my blog post went viral, I've gone to therapy and built a better foundation for myself. I've dealt with social anxiety, low self esteem, internalized homophobia, eating disorders, generalized anxiety, and processing trauma. I've built a community of queer friends. The reason I work at a university is because 20 years ago they offered partner benefits so I knew if they found out I am gay, I would be okay. I have a foundation that let's me now think about making some of the hard choices I must face.

I arrived for this session thinking it would be pretty upbeat and light as it's my last time seeing this therapist. The semester is ending and his rotation here will soon be over. He responded that he's glad I brought this up. He and his supervisor were discussing me and agree that it's time to end my therapy. Unless there's been a change since our last session and I've relapsed, they feel I have the internal tools to move forward without their help. This therapist was here for the Summer and Fall, so I've seen him for 6 months, and he said it's been a pleasure to see me succeeding.

It was my response to the hurricane last month, how I turned to comfort food and seemed to go off track, but then snapped back into a routine of meal prep and healthier eating, that led him to believe I was ready to move forward, that I'd really overcome the eating disorder.

I replied that I don't know if "overcome" is the right word. My experience with other mental health disorders is they're like seeds in the ground that from time to time will try to sprout, and I have to choose not to let them grow. He responded that he likes another metaphor, that we've been installing lights in a house, and now the living areas, bathroom, and bedrooms are brightly lit, yet there's the basement, maybe some rooms in the corner that are still dark, but we don't have to go there, and at some point maybe I'll install lights in those places, too. However I want to think about it, I am ready to go forward. I did the work and should be proud of what I've accomplished.

As I walked out to my car, I was overwhelmed by emotions. I think I should have felt like celebrating, but instead the feelings I've had from this journey all came rushing back. It was a lot, so many feelings jumbled together.

I again felt stunned at being officially diagnosed. I felt disgust that I choose to still be part of an institution that has hurt me so much. I felt thankful for having friends who I could share about this. I felt shame at what I’ve done to my body. I felt compassion for myself when I understood my body & mind did this to help me survive. I felt the discomfort of sitting in body positivity classes being asked to share very personal thoughts and feelings with others. I felt the shock at realizing I engaged in disordered eating every single day. I felt the curiosity and wonder when I learned how I used different foods for different reasons and how disordered eating was a way for my body & mind to deal with a variety of things. I felt sad for teenager me who used to self harm, and when he stopped doing that he then turned to disordered eating to deal with the feelings about the situation he was in. I felt scared as to whether I could really change. I felt satisfaction at knowing I made choices and was moving forward. There was a sense of safety at knowing I had professionals on my team helping me and also feeling loss that they won’t be there in the future.

It was all these feelings & more, and it was overwhelming.

I cried and let myself feel all this, and somehow crying led to a feeling of relief, it wasn't until later that I realized that I didn't even think of engaging in disordered eating in response to those feelings. It made a nice bookend as 22 months ago when I first met with a therapist about this, I left the clinic and drove to grocery store to buy food to eat in my car because of how intense it felt to talk about these things.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for secretly following my then best friend home?

(tw alcohol abuse, probably suicidal tendencies)

I know this sounds really awful right away but bear with me. Also this is probably going to get long, sorry in advance

tl;dr I followed a guy i was friends with and had a crush on home after an argument, even after he asked me not to come to his house, bc i was worried he might hurt himself.

Last summer I (20f) moved to the US for college. I didn’t know anyone outside of college and overall I was mostly on my own which was getting a bit lonely tbh. So I was very glad when I met this guy (21m) at a party of one of my acquaintances. We got along right away and he ended up giving me his number. After that we continued talking regularly and also meeting up every now and then and overall it was a lot of fun.

At some point I started developing feelings for him but prepared myself to just wait it out and not tell him bc I knew that he liked having a very active sex life and felt like he probably wouldn’t be interested in something serious at that time.

After a few months however, he began to behave in some ways that made me pretty worried honestly. I had known that he liked to go out and party but I hadn’t known to what extent. Apparently he would get totally blackout drunk at least once a week, sometimes more than that and then he would text me or call me in the middle of the night but often I genuinely couldn’t understand what he was saying. Sometimes he would just call me like that at any time of day, crying, saying that I was his only real friend, the only person he felt safe talking to and so on. On the one hand I knew that that wasn’t healthy behaviour at all but on the other hand my crush on him kept getting worse bc who doesn’t like to feel needed.

On other occasions, he would just randomly do reckless and stupid things like one time we went to a museum and he started arguing with the guard over not being able to take any pictures and we almost got kicked out. Afterwards he laughed it off but honestly it made me feel pretty uneasy. (I didn’t tell any of my other friends about that btw, they only knew that I was seeing this guy but wasn’t dating him.)

He has told me some things about his childhood which I don’t want to share here bc he did tell me that confidentially and although this is anonymous I still don’t feel comfortable telling random people on tumblr about it. But it is severe enough for me to believe that his upbringing and the things he lived through definitely contributed to the issues that he has now. I can say that he didn’t have a great time at home bc he is bi and while homosexuality isn’t illegal in his country, it isn’t really accepted either. Also it’s generally expected that children, especially boys, dedicate their entire life to having a successful and lucrative career and then start a family and he wasn’t really in the right place to do either of that (and he didn’t want to).

He also has been facing a lot of problems and racism here bc he is a poc immigrant from a country that isn’t in good standing with the US. So while I don’t pretend I know what he’s feeling, I imagine that all of these things would affect him quite a lot.

Now I actually get to the incident that is the reason for me to send this (it rly did get long TT but I want to make everything as clear as possible).

A few weeks ago we were just hanging out, it was all pretty chill and we just sat down to eat and talk etc. It had been quite a difficult week for me, also college wise, and I felt like I really had to talk to him about him calling me at night and while I’m in class and all that. So I said as nicely as I could smth like “I don’t want to seem overbearing but have you ever thought about maybe seeing a therapist bc I don’t think what you do is healthy in the long run and I’m not a professional who can properly help you.” He immediately got really snappy and defensive, saying that he “couldn’t fucking afford a therapist and even if I could, all they do is squeeze the money out of you and they don’t give a fuck about your feelings.” I was pretty shocked tbh and responded by saying “well if you really think this badly about therapists you should clearly see one” which was probably too harsh of me but I just couldn’t help myself at that moment. He then said “oh yeah?? I’d rather die than tell any of my shit to a total stranger. But you’ve probably already told yours bc you’re all so fucking dependant on them anyway.” and then he stormed off. (Just to be clear, I don’t have a therapist bc I don’t have any issues that require one.)

I was really scared at that point bc I thought that he might do something to himself (he had said stuff like “I wish I just wasn’t here sometimes” before) so I started following him which I now think was extremely weird and creepy of me but I just didn’t think it through in that situation. He walked for about 10 minutes to a house which I assumed was where he lived (I had never been at his place before bc he always said he lived in a bad neighborhood and didn’t want me to come there) and I stood outside for like another 10 minutes thinking abt what to do bc I realized that this had been totally stupid, also it started to get dark and it really was a bad neighborhood. I ended i up calling him and telling him where I was and he let me in. He was pretty angry but mostly at the fact that I had put myself in such a dangerous situation and he let me spend the night at his place.

We actually got together not long after that and as of now, we’re dating. I know it’s not an ideal situation and probably not the most healthy one but I have been able to keep him from drinking himself into oblivion all the time bc we spend most evenings together now so I think that’s a good thing. I don’t know where things will go from here and I don’t have the illusion that i can “fix him” or anything but so far it’s been pretty good and I really do love him a lot so I just hope it will all turn out for the best. I just still feel guilty for lowkey (or actually highkey) stalking him when he explicitly asked me not to come to his house but it was out of genuine worry for him so idk if it makes me an asshole, I guess I’ll let tumblr decide that for me.

🌃🎀🍨 for finding later

[ktchie]

'It's the hope that kills you'

Ted Lasso x Reader

Fluff and Angst

♡ other tags: attempt at humour/ no proof read we die like Rupert should've / possible part two

♡6.1k words

◇ In which Y/n wanted to confessed and Ted has a pastel pink apron.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

She consider herself as a tough independent woman who rather die and be beheaded than show any ounce of feelings or a hint of affection.

Her therapist said it's because she grew up in a household that doesn't show much emotion or any vulnerability. And they're right, she remember the time she saw her Dad shed a tear on the night of her high-school graduation, hiding behind his hands and cool dad stance before abruptly going to the bathroom and staying there for 40 minutes - he came back with red eyes and a terrible pun joke. As if nothing had happened.

So it is perfectly understandable that she grew up hating vulnerability, choosing to stay rigid and emotionless rather to have her whole soul on the palm of her hand. It doest help either that she's the eldest kid, the pillar of her siblings, the one who lays awake at night thinking any and every problems her parents throw at her way, worrying about it to the point her chest hurt and she has to learn to calm panic attack in such a young age.

So that being said, she never really had the full experience of romance or being in a relationship. She flirted with a few men on her lives and had fucked them plenty of times but she never really did the whole holding hands thing and all that cheesy stuff that people always whined about once the clock hits 10 and loneliness hits you like a freight train.

But meeting Ted, meeting Ted makes her want to dive head first on whatever corny things couples do in this day of age. Whether it be kissing on the rain or robbing a bank at 2pm in a Sunday afternoon.

She stared at him from across her, sitting so patiently like an overgrown child with a cup of steaming hot coffee.

"Something you need, Ted?" Her tone of voice held nothing but pure professionalism that made her quietly hissed.

Ted looked at her with his big brown eyes that makes her heart all googoo gaga, she sometimes wonder if Ted is secretly part of some hidden government group because she swore that puppy eyes could stop a international fued.

"Oh you know, just wanna visit ya'" he stated with a cheeryness only he can produced in the morning, all dimple and wide smiles. "'been awhile since I saw you, thought you're actually avoiding me but boss said that you're six feet under with all the work you got goin' on"

She chuckled at his words "Ted, I don't think there's anything in this world that could keep me away from you" she answered with a subtle smile, if she wanted him she would get him, whether it be by words or thousand of prayers.

Ted looked at her silently, wide eye and a blossoming blush on his cheeks. He looks ethereal underneath the early morning sun, a fallen single strand of hair dangling on his forehead that makes her hand itch with yearn to fix it.

"But I have been awfully neglectful to the rest of you, haven't I?" She decided to move on from her flirting (?), she doesnt want Ted to dropped dead on the floor from all the blood on his head. "I've been busy these past few weeks, but Will told me about the team plan get together on Sam's restaurant. I'll make sure to attend it, even shoulder the payment if we can get Sam to give us the bill"

Ted nodded his head, tounge tied for once, some part of her rejoiced while the other part, the one who always fear rejection and if she's being too much or too stupid, fear for whatever friendship they have (or had, if worse comes to worse)

"I-well" he cleared his throat, looking at her through his weirdly long eyelashes that always made her tear up in awe and envy.

"We can uh' y'know, we can split the bill, don't hav'ta shoulder it all by yourself"

"No its alright" she shook her head, she contemplate touching his arms, feel the soft fabric of his awfully comfy looking sweater and the skin underneath it but she decided not to, Ted might freak the fuck out and leave the room yelling 'HR! HR!' And have her fired and be shamed by the rest of the Richmond community for touching their beloved American wanker. "Consider it as my payment for forgetting to visit the locker room"

"Wasn't your fault, anyway" he shrugged before gesturing to the tower of folders and impending blueprints for the upcoming renovations and building upgrades. "I mean take a look at that, the great mt. Everest would cry if he saw this monstrosity. Even looking at it makes my stomach all funky" he shudder at its sight. "Do you even take a break? Jeez."

She sighed and leaned back on her office chair "from time to time, 15 minutes or 5. I like to finish my work early so.."

Ted frowned, he has one of those upset looks that makes her heart clenched and crack little by little until it exploded on her chest and she has to pretend she wasn't in pain so he could view her as a normal human being and not a lovesick teenager. "Ya should take a better care of yourself, you can't just go 'n on 'n on workin' till you drop dead" if it's possible, his doe eyes turned even more sadder. " its not good for you"

She bit her lip, her thighs moving up and down underneath her desk. She never liked it when he's anything but happy. "I can go take a rest when I go home and take a rest some more once I finish of all this work. its fine, don't worry too much about me"

"How can I not worry about you?" Ted leaned in, sad eyes and furrow brows. "Youre my-" he sighed before he shake his head "heck, If I had known you're over 'ere slowly killin' yourself i would have yank you from your desk till you're screamin' and cryin'"

Screaming and crying huh? Oh she can do that, alright.

"Ted.." she sighed, trying her hardest to ease the furrow on his brows "its fine, im fine. Don't worry about me too much. there's another game coming up, thats what you should be focusing on yeah?"

Ted sighed deeply, leaning back on the chair before nodding. A lock of hair fell down on his forehead, perfect it was, and y/n thought he never looked more beautiful then. She wonder if Ted kept his hair perfectly gel all the time or if he had ever let his guard down on the four walls he had been forcely call his home.

She would love to see him just him, just Ted, with his goofy smiles and bad puns and old reference from a bad film made years before.

She would love to love him, flaws and imperfections and bad days. She would paint him beautifully, perfect at every stroke of her brush and no smudge of mistakes and yet she knows she still wouldn't do him justice. Ted is just too perfect, too lovely, too godly to be even be depicted on a rough white canvas of this wretched world. Ted deserves to be painted in the walls of the church, or at every thread of the clouds, he was meant to be seen and to be watched and to be memorize until his kindness and his generosity and smile are engraved deep within everyone's heart. Y/n wanted to worship Ted with utmost devotion that her mouth would utter prayers like a second breath, until her two pressed hands bleed and flowers grow between her palm.

She watched him sat across her, his gaze darting everywhere on the carpet before a smile slowly broke on his lips, eyes suddenly lighting up and whole body perking up.

"Hey" he looked up to her, grin and joyful gaze "guess what I cooked last night" he had said giddily

"if you get it right I might just have to take a peek on that ridiculous sitcom you've always buggin' me to watch"

She scoffed, offended. "Modern family is not ridiculous, it's the best thing that ever happened to television-"

"Now hol' up. You're gettin' ahead of yourself now, sugar" she pretended the pet name didnt make her stomach flip and twist and did all kinds of wwe wrestling stunt. 

"I'll have you know that you're wrong, there are tons of- you know what, I ain't even gonna argue with you because we're both too tired for this and I'm too excited to tell you what I cooked last night, so just guess, come on"

She squinted her eyes before sighing as she started to think. "Well, last time we spoke you wouldn't shut up about barbecue and kebab and that one burger that sounds like it could kill you from one sniff"

"Triple cheese burger with bacon crisp, 3 sunny side eggs and curly fries dipped in ranch and garlic sauce with side on-"

"Sounds awful. Americans and their ridiculous food, seriously how are you not dead yet?"

Ted had shrugged with a sickeningly sweet smile "have no idea, but its good 'n ya know what they say 'enjoy life while it lasted'"

"Curse that qoute for manipulating you, let's just pray you wouldn't drop dead in the middle of the court because we can't handle your decaying body and another lose at the same time"

"You betcha! Now guess what I cooked!" Ted was almost jumping from his seat, propping his head on his palm as he stared at her.

"Come on, now"

"Curry"

"No"

"Friend chicken?"

"Nope, but boy I would love to have that right now"

"Salad?"

"Heck no! You kiddin' me?"

"Uhhh, curry?"

"You already said that!" Ted pouted lightly and she almost reach out to trace the bottom of his lips and mumbled how sweet he look right now but thankfully she stopped herself.

"Allright I give up" she threw her hand up and sigh "anything you cooked is fantastic anyway, doesn't matter what it is"

"Oh, arent you a sweetheart" he smiled at her so adorably it made her tooth ache. "I'm glad you think so because I just cooked f/f!" Ted yelled so excitedly, arms spread wide and eyes bright.

She looked at him with agape mouth

"F/f? Are you serious?" She grinned so widely, it has been awhile since she tasted it, mainly because the only f/f she had ever ate is the one her mother cooks.

"Course! I wouldn't lie to ya!" Ted had stated "I couldn't get some shut eyes last night so I decided to make it, better to do something than nothin' at all am I right?"

She's still looking at him, as if in trance. "Wow Ted..I mean im pretty fucking pump but-well, why did you make it? You could have baked, you usually bake when you have nothing to do"

Ted looked away from her, cheeks suddenly getting warm and pink under the sunlight. "Oh you know..just miss ya' I guess"

Her heart crumbled and melted inside of her chest, she could feel its warmth drip from every nerve she has and settle deep within her guts and lay there until she has to curl her toes in a pathethic attempt to calm herself down.

He took a peek at her under his lashes. "I was so used seeing you every darn morning 'ere so it makes me all sad and upset when I don't. Even coach beard had to knock some sense in to me, told me to keep my marbles together or else he'll hide my barbecue sauce" he lightly chuckled "pretty heavy threat, if you ask me"

"I didnt know you miss me so much"

"Are you kiddin' me? I miss ya a hell'ava lot more than 'much'" Ted had almost yelled "i miss ya more than Roy misses running! And thats alot"

She laugh quietly, both in amusement and the tickling feeling deep on her stomach that normal people (with normal amount of love on their heart) would refer as butterflies, but for her, for someone who love too deep and too vast and too much and for a girl like her that grew up reading stories and fairy tales and movies characters with soft confession under bright stars and harsh rains, she could refer the feeling on her stomach as a clawing beast, a magnificent one born on legends and shaky words of the fear locals, with a ferocious growl and wild eyes and fangs as big as a tallest house.

In short, everytime Ted does something so adorably lovely on her eyes she could feel the entire animals on her stomach.

She looked at him with a gentle smile, eyes bright and so so soft - looking at him a like proper lover would. "I miss you too, Ted" she had said almost like a whisper, like a sin. "More than you could ever know"

The statement sounded too intimate, the tone too romantic to be said between casual friends and even the silence after it could be written in a pages of old romance stories - describe it like moment after the music, where the two of them stares at one another with that yearning look that makes all the reader sick to their stomach.

Her words sounds like a confession, one that is so gentle even the gods up above would melt where they stood. She didn't utter the proper words of 'i love you' and didn't open her palm where her bleeding heart lay and offer it to him with a desperation - but the way she said her words, the way every letter soud so much like a sudden whisper in a night of passion and sudden realization of devotion and adoration makes her statement more than a confession - as if it was an oath, a promise set on stone. Like a knights word as he kneeled on his king and offered the edge of his swords, bare against the world, bright steel and fierce glare as his lips mouth his promise, the words he would live and die on, where war would start and where it would end - be it by his blood or his foes. And similar to that y/n is ready to be let down on where she sat, to spill her heart like a leaking wound and let it stains them both, let him know how she feels, how serious, how much time she had spent pinning after him, yearning, adoring him so silently like a lovesick suitor from afar.

Ted grinned at her, dimple deep on his cheeks and that damn fallen hair on his forehead that makes him so so lovely. He opened his mouth and y/n waited with bathed breath and wonder what words would come out but before he could even roll his tounge the door of her office opened with a harsh loud push.

"Y/n we have to- oh. oh Ted! Good morning!" Higgings strolled in clumsily and no matter how much she love the little dork she kinda want to crush his glasses on her palm and send him home.

"Higgins! Nice to see ya today, buddy" Ted stood up to greet him and to give him a pleasant hug and if the coach is annoyed at anyway, he didn't show it. God he's so kind its annoying..

"You too, Ted. You too" Higgins replied with a smile that reserved only for Ted, filled with gratitude and adoration before he turned to her and she watch, with great amusement and a little irritation, when that smile fell down on his lips. "And uh, we need to talk"

She sighed mournfully, waving a goodbye to the wonderful conversation she was having with her love and to the words he would say earlier. She gestured Higgings to sit across her before she met Ted's eyes.

"Im afraid we'll have to cut our cheesy conversation here, Ted. Duty calls and if you want someone to blame, blame Higgings" she pointed at the man with a teasing smirk that had Higgins poor heart rapidly beating with nervousness.

"What? But I'm merely doing my job-"

"Im fucking with you" she patted his shoulder with a light laugh before glancing at Ted, who still remained at her office with a smile.

"I'll gave you a call later" Ted had said "let's have a dinner, ill cook for ya'"

She bit her lip to keep the ridiculous love sick smile threatening to rip her mouth apart and nodded "ill look forward to it, have a good day"

"You too, sugar"

And he was gone and if Higgins wasn't infront of her, staring at her with that bewildered look only spooked squirrel could do she would have stood up and do a cartwheel on her carpeted floor because holy fucking shit Ted is going to cook for her, just for her, not like those times where they eat together on the locker room and she has to sneakily steal his lunch - tho she knows Ted wouldn't mind Beard is another problem, she still thinks Beard has a few dead bodies on his back, the man has a stare of a despondent convicted murderer inside a prison cell. Its crazy.

"Oh." Higgings blink rapidly, his mouth subtly and slowly forming a smile. "You and Ted?"

She squinted her eyes "We're friends"

"Not with that look in your eyes, no"

"What did you eat today to have you acting this cheeky, my dear Higgins?" She looked at him up and down with a scowl.

The man let out a grin

"I should be the one asking that" he then leaned in "or should it be 'who did you meet today that have you acting this lovesick, my dear y/n?"

She flush red "You're fired"

"That'd be the 205 times you've fire me and I will continue to ignore it as long as I live"

"The first time i did that you sobbed on my shoulder"

"Well its.." he looked away "it was a different time"

"Sure it was"

____________________________________

"Look what we have 'ere-"

"JESUS, ROY!" She had jumped 2 feet from where she stood, clutching her heart and her car keys.

"What the hell man!"

"What? You got yourself an American man and suddenly you're weak of heart?"

"That doesn't even make any sense.." she mumbled with a disturbed look as she stared at him. "What are you even doing here? and I dont have an American man, get your head straight"

"Its a fucking parking lot, im allowed to be here" He commented with a glared as he not so softly leaned on her car.

She sighed through her nose, annoyed. "What i meant was, why the fuck are you even standing about in here and suddenly appearing from the darkness like a...hairy angry batman"

"Im not fucking hairy!"

"you shed like a golden retriever, you're not fooling anybody!"

Roy, the dog, growled in annoyance before he blocked her way to the driver seat.

"Please move or ill yell bloody murder" she stated suddenly so so exhausted.

"Why actin' so rush? Got somewhere to be?" She squinted his eyes at him, suspicious and contemplating why is he being such a dick.

"Why are you talking to me like you're about to take my lunch money?"

Roy, with the little patience he has, growled once again before he shook his head, as if he was the one getting annoyed and tired on the conversation. Then he stared at her, right on the eye, as if wanting to burn her soul and cook her alive.

"Youre really not going to tell me?" He had asked, hands on his hips.

"Is that how it is?"

"What?" She ask, confused.

"You and Ted" Her eyes widen, what is he on about?

"Me and Ted? What about us?"

"Higgin-" he cleared his throat "I mean, someone told me you and the little prick was getting all chummy in your office. Even got yourself a fucking date, how lovely"

She sighed "there wasn't a date Roy, Ted and I are friends. And we aren't getting 'chummy' or whatever kind of meaning that word has in your vocabulary and tell Higgins-"

"It wasn't higgings"

"-tell him to keep his damn nose out of my business or ill key his car"

Roy stared at her for a long second before he clenched his jaw and mumbled a 'fuckkkkk'

"We're-" he swallowed before he looked upwards to the sky, as if begging the gods above to give him more strength. "We're-..f-friends, arent we?" Her eyes soften in both adoration and amusement as he grimaced with every letter he spoke.

She chuckled "we are, no matter how much you disdain that word"

"Then," Roy had sighed "believe me when I say that that cowboy Mr. Rogers is fucking inlove with you"

Suddenly the air felt too thick and her clothes felt too hot. "Roy, i think you're wrong. Ted wanst-"

"Don't you fucking dare tell me he wasn't because a blind bloke could see it in a mile away, he wouldn't fucking shut up about you. fuck sake, He even draws you!" He yelled dramatically, hands shooting in a air in a form of exaggerated irritation that only Roy Kent could do. "Those past few days where you lock yourself up in your bloody office has been the worst days of my entire life, Ted looks constipated half of the fucking time and all he does is broods and broods and fucking complains about you. He's insufferable! Beard has to talk to him in the bathroom to get him straight!" He massage his temple before sighing and looking at her so gently then, so softly, like a brother would, like a friend would do, like someone you can hold onto when life gets though and days gets bad.

"Believe me, he's inlove with you.." he softly said like a whisper.

"In every possible way a human could love, he's inlove with you"

Her breath hitched from her throat, tounge heavy on her mouth and her heart beat could be hear from miles away. The beast inside of her guts fell silent, almost asleep, like his words strike straight to his heart and send him down on the ground, wounded and shaken and could never get back up.

"I came here to.." Roy cut short, finding the proper words. "To tell you how happy I am that he finally work the balls to ask you out, but turns out he's still a fuckin' pussy and a mess of a man"

She chuckled and shook her head.

"Ted is.." She lick her lips and leaned on her car, Roy beside her and shoulder apart.

"I don't think Ted would do the first move, he's..afraid, I think. All his life Michelle was the only woman he knew, only woman he loved and if what you're saying is not true, then she's the only woman he would forever love" she said almost mournfully. "Divorced is hard, specially for someone like Ted who loves too much and give too much, maybe that's the reason why I'm hopeless inlove with him to the point of humiliation but who fucking  cares, right?" She shrugged.

She then swallowed before sighing a shaky breath. "I'll uh, ill confessed tonight. While we eat dinner, ill..ill try, and if- y'know, he doesnt like it then I'll back off" she bit her lip as her gaze burn holes to the pavement.

"I'll love him from afar, cheer for him from the stands and sob on my office if I saw him and sassy together again"

Roy chuckled "i remembered that one" reminiscing her worst times of sobbing half dead on her office table mumbling how cruel it is to love Ted and asking what Sassy has that she does not.

"Maybe ill hire a hit man too, have them kill you so you could forget about it" she bumped his shoulder with her own and lightly laugh when Roy grunts.

"I'll write it with my fucking blood, believe that"

"Write it with your chest hair and ill believe it"

"You fucking cunt-"

____________________________________

"Sorry 'bout the mess.." Ted gestured to the perfectly clean living room with a sheepish look. "didn't have time to clean up. I'm just too excited to cook for ya I forgot about everything else"

"That so? Well I'm excited to taste it, I'm sure it'll be wonderful" she smiled at him as she put the bottle of wine down on the marble kitchen bar.

"Oh it'll blow your socks off, its nothin' like the food at Sam's restaurant but its darn good if I say so myself" She watched silently as Ted, adorable adorable Ted, wore his pastel pink apron, tied it around his waist and fluff it with a lovely smile that almost had her clutching her precious weak heart.

"Im sure it'll be delicious" she say, referring more to the cook rather than food. "I like anything you do anyway, so"

Ted glance at her and smile, all dimple and bright eyes. It made her smile too, softly, subtly, like one of those yearning smile that hides thousands of words and promises and hopes and desperation.

Ted went back to his cooking, whistling a tune she swore she heard before. He was telling a story, one about a fish and a basketball and a prom that gone wrong but for the life of her she could not listen.

She thought about her conversation with Roy, the words he had utter that made her want to pour her heart out and confessed to her love. She dont want to be hopeful, being hopeful is nothing but a wish on the wind in this place. It is the poison that rots your mind, that decays the flower and the trees and the grass, break the ground you stood up upon - watch it crumble and crumble until your legs become weak and your bones break from your flesh and you fell ill and sick and cough blood until you die and wish that you should have done better, that you should have stayed quiet and at peace and settle from staring from afar instead of watching your own skin slowly peel away as you continue to hope and hope and hope and watch as the filthy earth swallow you whole and- Jesus christ she should really stop reading those sad terrifying books Nate had been recommending her alot, its ruining her head in the worst ways.

"Ya feel alright?" Ted's voice woke her from her thoughts.

She looked at him furrowed brows and concerned eyes. "Im good, it's nothing"

"We could just watch a movie, you know? Order some good ol' pizza and have a laugh on some bad movies and oh! You know what? we could just watch your favourite-"

"I rather just taste your food, Ted. If you don't mind"

"But you look tired" and there it is again, the puppy look, the vain of her existence. God he's so terrible she kinda want to kiss his face and pinch his cheeks.

She chuckled "arent you sweet"

"Oh gosh! I didnt- darn, I didnt mean it that way, sugar!" He was panicking, going all over the kitchen with his cute apron on and little sauce smudge on his cheeks.

"You l-look tired but y'know still pretty, and cute and-and you know? Please darlin' I didnt mean to offend you i just want to-"

"Hey, hey, hey.." she called out to him with a barely contained humour smile "I get it, I was fucking with you. I'm just joking, calm down"

He slumped dramatically on the counter with a sigh "oh goodness, you had me there. Thought I was gonna loose ya'"

They had talked a little bit, or maybe too much, she couldn't exactly remember how long it was or what it was about but she had know they had laugh and jest and share a few stories of their childhood and back when they're still a foolish teenager who didn't know what they want and where they belong - she  still don't know now if she was being honest, she wasn't really the kind of person that plans ahead of time, or give a genuine thought on what she wanted to do in the future and how she will get there but Ted is, Ted knows, Ted understand what he wants and how he will get there and what he see himself on the future and in which place and who he was with, it made her fall a little more inlove with him.

"How was it?" He had asked as he leaned in, nervous and fidgeting.

"Oh gosh please say somethin' I'm about to blow a nerve over 'ere"

She laugh "it was good!" And it is, the best curry she probably had.

"Its perfect, Ted. Even the spiciness is perfect"

He blew out an air "oh thank god, I was so worried ya wouldn't like it! And to be completely honest with ya' I thought I switched up the salt and sugar halfway"

She laugh again, it wasn't even funny, she's just inlove and a complete fool.

Ted started to talk about his day, down to what he had ate for breakfast and how terrible his coffee was 'it tasted like cow piss' his words. He then talked about his theory that Nate is secretly a goverment spy forced to work with him for a very dangerous top secret world breaking undercover mission - when she asked why he think that - 'because nate is a genius and there ain't no way he was a water boy before I came here and coach beard told me he saw nate yesterday slap a fly in a speed of light and didn't even flinch'

It was ridiculous theory but she then remember the amount of gory psychological thriller books Nate has been recommending her for the past few days and a good amount of them involves a spy or two. She wasn't convinced but she'll keep an eye out just incase.

"-it wasn't that much of a big deal"

"You set your school on fire!" Ted had exclaimed rather dramatically, on her opinion, as she told him her high-school tales.

"Thats like- Thats arson!"

"Its not arson if they don't know someone set it on fire" she tap her forehead lightly as if gesturing Ted to see how smart she is. And Ted, bless his heart, actually nodded.

"Youre right, thats smart. Look at ya' getting away with crimes in such a young age!" He grins so beautiful she was actually proud of what her foolish younger self did back then.

"You sounds awfully proud of me bring a criminal"

"Well its kinda awesome and speaking of awesome!--" his eyes was bright and there's a little smudge of sauce near his lips, he looks adorable and loveable and she just suddenly want to kiss him stupid and tell him how much she loves him-

"--Sassy and I are going on date this weekend!"

A glass shattered on the background.

She wasn't adventurous or a sucker for pain and near death experince but if someone had ask her what it would feel like when an arm go through her chest and crush her heart in one fist, she would describe what she's feeling right now in exact gruesome detail that even Nate would vomit on the corner.

She couldn't stop her smile for falling from her lips or the soft disbelief of 'oh' that escape from her tounge, its amazing how a simple two letter words sounded so broken out of the millions she had uttered before.

"Thats great, Ted" she thank every God there is that her voice didn't came out robotic "im happy, you deserve someone who can take care of you"

Ted nodded his head with a grin that is far too wide for his cheeks and then he stared talking, he was saying something but she couldn't hear it, didn't bothered to hear it, she was too busy wondering if the feeling of absence on her chest had been there long before or had just recently appeared now.

"-aint it funny?"

"Yeah" was her response even if she didn't hear any word of it, she avoid his gaze as she wiped her mouth with a tissue and cleared her throat - there's a vile stuck on it that she couldn't seems to swallow.

"Ted, I-uh, I think I'm gonna go home. I'm not feeling very well" she was a liar and a coward but she rather die than cry infront of him -  and suddenly she was young again, alone in her room, toes cold from the floor board and clenching her hands into a tight fist and wondering what is it about her that is unlovable.

"Oh, uh, okay" Ted stood up from the table "are you feelin' dizzy? Does your tummy feels funny? Do you wan-"

"I don't" she said firmly, she was upset, mad, not to him but to herself, for even hoping that she could have this. "I don't need anything, thank you" she lied and swallowed the humiliation of even wanting to say everything she wanted to say to him. All those words she wanted to confessed makes her sick to her stomach because how fucking dare she believe she even has a chance? How foolish to even assume she could have Ted?

"Nothing like a good rest would fix" she had stated, hoping to ease his mind but her chuckle came out weak and sad.

"Okay uh, ill walk you to your apartment - I mean, flat, christ-"

"Its okay" she grab her bag "I can walk by myself"

"I don't think its safe-"

"I can handle myself"

"Still, you look a little pale and I can't have a gal like yo-"

"Fucking hell Ted!" She had yelled and the guilt settled on her stomach as soon as she did so.

Ted look at her like she wasn't her, like another person came on his flat with a face of a friend he adores and she wanted to laugh because how could she want to love him and care for him when she could barely be half of a kind person that he was?

"Just- fuck, I got it. I can handle myself just dont-" she sighed through her nose and looked down, she could feel the tears on her eyes and but none of them fell down.

"Just let me be, yeah? I'm not a fucking toddler you need to be coddle all the time"

There's a pause before Ted nods "Okay" his eyes were sad, sadder than anything she had ever saw and it would've break her heart if it weren't shattered before.

She looked at him silently, a second. She almost wanted to say it, say the words, just lay it all on the table and let Ted feast on the remnants of her broken heart and whatever is left. He'll take good care of it, she knows. That's a kind of man he is. Maybe even fix it together with some melted gold.

"Im sorry" Ted was the one who apologized even if she should be the first, it made her guts coil. "I didnt mean to upset you, I was just-just worried. I'm sorry"

She looked down and clenched her fist, dig her nails on her palm.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, I was being a dick and I have no excuse-"

"Youre tired and you're not feeling well, 's okay"

"Its not, Ted" she shook her head "I shouldn't have talk to you like that, you're my-" she swallowed "youre my friend, I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry"

Ted smile, sad and worried all at once. "Its okay, I forgive ya'"

He shouldn't be, atleast not this easily.

"Okay" she nod her head once before she turn to the door with trembling hands.

Ted appeared next to her and held the door open for her. "Be safe, sweetheart"

'Don't' she wanted to whisper but felt too tired to do so.

"Call me when you get home"

"Will do"

The ground was wet as she walked and the road felt much sadder than before, the cold night air beg her for warmth and instead of the heat of her flat her mind travel to the warmth of his hands, of his touch. Y/n briefly wonder how she came to be like this, how she love so fiercely like a beaten dog and dig claw marks on everything she ever love just to watch it be yank away from her as easily as her tears could fall.

[librarycards]

asking this not as a gotcha, but genuinely for perspective, as i respect how much you've read and wrote about antipsychiatry. so, i was committed in a psych ward as a teen, and the help i received there inspired me to pursue becoming a pediatric psych np. there's a lot about the system that angered me, but the good nurses i met there had an impact on me. i've also had a rough time finding the right prescribers for meds as an adult, and i've considered working primarily in medication management- to be the attentive resource that i wish i had years ago. i see you've answered someone who aspired to be a therapist- but would my goal be more likely to hurt than help, in this system? i intend to be critical, and not spout shit like ODD as a legit diagnosis; rather, my main goal would be to recognize how a kid's home is affecting them, as having that safer space away from my own home helped me realize the context of why i was that way. but plenty of people claim to have the best intentions, and then become abusive once in these positions of power, so perspective would be very appreciated. thank you

hey anon - thanks for this message. i've answered similar ones a few times before (1) (2) (3), but here are a few thoughts:

honestly, most good/good-intentioned people don't last very long in highly abusive institutional environments. my current therapist started out in a residential ed treatment place, and left to start a private practice because she couldn't stomach the abuse she faced from her superiors, nor the abuse she was expected to inflict upon residents. i have disabled/Mad friends who have gone into social work and/or psych-focused medicine. i do not know of any who have stuck around in psych ward/other high-control settings. it's a painful, demoralizing job even for people without lived experience, never mind for those of us who have been through it as patients.

the ones that stay often harden. there are always exceptions - there were a couple of staff in each of the places i was that were truly special people, not because of the institution but in spite of it - but most of the staff i encountered, from psych nurses to house parents to psychiatrists to social workers - were sharp and cold. maybe you won't become this, but either way, you'll have to put up with it.

and that's the fundamental problem, imo. even if you preserve your own code of ethics, you will not only be structurally limited by the regulations and demands of wherever you work, but you will also be in an atmosphere at best apathetic and at worst actively hostile to the autonomy and well-being of patients as such. you will have to choose between standing by at times of injustice/violence, or risking your job. we both know what happens behind those locked doors.

at the same time: these units will not close if you choose not to work there. people will not stop needing medication management; kids will not stop needing support amid abusive family/home situations. at the same time, it is in practice extremely difficult to effect real change for kids experiencing abuse - hard to get kids out of abusive homes permanently, hard to find non-abusive foster families, impossible to effectively support traumatized young people in these times of transition given the piss poor systems we have.

whether you'd be "hurting more than helping," while a fair question, is beside the point. i'm not entirely sure it's possible for anyone within these institutional strictures to 'help' in a long term sense at all. BUT, you would certainly make peoples' lives/stays in the hospital less painful in the short-term, even if you're pulling your hair out with frustration at the intransigence and needless cruelty of your colleagues. while you're considering what to do in career terms, i think it's also worth considering leadership positions where you can be a safe, supportive adult for young people without the expectations of the institution - a scout leader, coach, theater director, etc. (these are also not mutually exclusive with actual careers ofc) if you wanted to focus on the medical space, patient advocacy is also an option.

overall, i don't want to uniformly tell you "don't ever go into that", because, as i said, the position will exist regardless and i would prefer Mad kids to have as much access to compassion as humanly possible in a profoundly cruel system. but i also want to make clear that the violence attendant to that system will not be escapable for you, nor will you be able to move through it without perpetuating some of your own. think carefully about what you're able to tolerate.