#is he like. good? does he need a therapist??

[leenashiftss]

TRUST FALL

| “If you trust me, I promise you won’t just feel good.. you’ll finally know what you’ve been missing.”

Pairing: Therapist Jake Sim x afab!reader

Genre: NSFT, smut, slight angst (just the readers backstory), therapist/client relationship

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, therapist/patient relationship (power imbalance), consensual sexual exploration, reader struggles with climax, thigh-riding, slight praise kink, mild dirty talk.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

WC: 3,518

| You’ve always felt like your own body was a puzzle—one you couldn’t solve. No touch, no partner, nothing brought you close to that elusive release. Shame settled in, and you almost stopped trying.

Until you told your therapist, Jake Sim. His calm smile turned curious, his patient voice promising, “Maybe you just need a little guidance.”

You never imagined how much you’d be willing to trust him. Or how far he’d take you.

You don’t know how you found yourself here.

Your cheek pressed against the wooden desk that had belonged to Dr. Sim, your therapist.

His hand shoved your face harder as he dug into you, his thrusts slow but hard and rough.

“You can’t cum? Yeah? Look at you, wetting my cock up like a good girl.” His words alone made your velvet walls contract around his length and caused the tingly sensation to make its way through your body and all the way to your fingertips.

“Nngh! I’m cumming again, please—!!”

Let’s backtrack.

You were in Dr. Sim’s office. Every Friday at 4:00pm, that’s the usual time that you both had met.

It was supposed to be normal, but, before you came in, you attempted to rub one out before your appointment. But to no avail, you couldn’t bring yourself to climax…as usual.

So here you were. You sink into the plush chair across from Dr. Sim, feeling the weight of frustration pressing down on you like it always does in this room. His office, with its warm beige tones and neat decor, is supposed to be comforting, but today it only adds to the suffocating air around you. You’ve been holding this in for what feels like forever, and it’s been eating you alive.

Your hands grip the edges of the chair, fingers digging into the soft fabric, trying to anchor yourself. Every time you try to make sense of it, your mind spins back to the same place, one that makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You can’t even look Dr. Sim in the eye right now.

He sits across from you, a picture of calm patience as always. His eyes are warm but attentive, making it hard to ignore the feeling that he’s waiting for something. “You’ve been feeling frustrated,” he says, his voice low and smooth, as if testing the waters.

You nod, biting your lip, struggling to find the words. It’s all so tangled up inside you. Anger, confusion, shame. “I don’t even know why I’m so angry,” you mutter, barely meeting his gaze. “Everything just… irritates me. Nothing feels right. It’s like I can’t focus on anything without feeling this… this… frustration.” You bite down on your lip, feeling the words sit heavy in the air.

Dr. Sim tilts his head slightly, his expression never wavering. “Do you know why?” he asks, his voice almost gentle, but with an edge of curiosity.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. You’ve thought about it, a lot. Thought about how this frustration has been building, how you’ve never been able to shake it. And it all comes back to one thing, the thing you’ve never been able to talk about, even though it’s been haunting you for far too long.

You hesitate, fingers tapping nervously against the armrest. Your throat feels tight. You swallow, trying to push the words out, but they stick. “I… I have an idea…�� you start, but the rest of the sentence lingers in the air. It feels stupid. It feels embarrassing.

Dr. Sim gives a reassuring nod, his voice soft as he speaks again, “You can tell me anything. This is a safe space. Everything you say here stays between us. No one will hear of this except you and me.”

His words sink in, but they don’t make it easier. The weight of his gaze seems to grow heavier, pressing down on you, urging you to speak. You shift in your seat again, and for a moment, the room feels too small.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers running over your leg anxiously. “It’s just…” You pause again, searching for the right words, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I… I’ve never been able to… to… y’know.” Your voice trails off into a whisper, embarrassed.

Dr. Sim’s eyes don’t leave yours, his expression as composed as ever. “To…?” He gently prods, his tone not pushing, but inviting.

You swallow hard, feeling the shame burn hotter under your skin. It’s terrifying to say it aloud, but it feels like there’s no way out unless you do. “I’ve never been able to… climax,” you whisper, the words coming out in a rush, like they’ve been locked away for too long. You can’t believe you’re saying it. You can’t believe you just admitted that to him.

Your face feels like it’s on fire, but when you look up at him, his eyes are steady, not judging. He nods slowly, as if processing it all. “I see,” he says softly, giving you a moment to breathe. “And how long have you been struggling with this?”

You stutter, words tripping over each other. “A… a long time. Since, like, forever. No matter what I try, nothing works. And it just makes me… frustrated. And angry. And I can’t… I can’t even talk to anyone about it because it’s… it’s embarrassing.”

Dr. Sim’s expression softens, his calm demeanor never faltering. He leans forward just slightly, the hint of a reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re not alone in feeling this way. A lot of people struggle with it. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. That’s why we’re here. To figure it out together.”

You nod, but the words he said don’t completely take away the discomfort. You still feel vulnerable, but for some reason, you trust him. You trust him more than anyone you’ve ever trusted with something so personal.

You exhale slowly, your hands still trembling slightly. “I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Dr. Sim doesn’t rush to answer, giving you space. But when he speaks again, there’s a subtle shift in his tone, a slight teasing edge that you hadn’t expected. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, “you just need a little guidance. Would you be willing to let me help you with that?”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything inside you freezes. The weight of what he’s suggesting, the possibility of him helping you in a way you’ve never considered—it feels like your whole body tenses in response. Your heart races, your thoughts scatter, and all you can do is stare at him, too unsure to speak.

You hesitate, your lips parting as if you want to say something, but the words don’t come. This isn’t just a conversation anymore. This is a step into unknown territory, and you’re terrified of what might happen next. You want to trust him. You want to believe that this could help, but the vulnerability of it all, the fear of exposing something so intimate, sends a shiver down your spine.

Noticing your hesitation, Dr. Sim leans forward just a little, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice is steady, reassuring, and just a little more intimate now. “If you trust me, I promise you won’t just feel good… you’ll finally know what you’ve been missing.”

The way he says it, calm, sure, with that patient yet slightly teasing edge, suddenly makes the idea seem less daunting. His words wrap around you like a safety net, and before you can second-guess yourself, something inside you clicks. You find yourself nodding, the tension in your chest loosening.

“I… I trust you,” you say softly, the words leaving your mouth before you can fully process them.

Dr. Sim smiles gently, his demeanor still composed but now with a faint glimmer of something deeper, something more knowing. “Good,” he replies, his voice rich with approval. “Then let’s begin.”

Dr. Sim’s gaze remains steady on you, warm but intent, his calm professionalism now laced with something deeper. He rises from his chair slowly, moving to the side of his desk, and gestures gently toward the plush therapy couch—a place where you’ve spent countless sessions trying to untangle your thoughts. But this time, the air is different. Charged. Heavy.

“Why don’t you come here?” he says, his voice still gentle, guiding, but there’s a quiet edge to it, a calm confidence that sends a shiver through you.

Your legs feel weak as you stand, your heart pounding in your chest. Each step you take feels uncertain, but his steady gaze is an anchor. When you reach him, he takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring, and with a gentle pull, he guides you onto his lap.

Not facing him, that would be too much, but turned away, your back pressing lightly against his chest, his arms resting easily on either side of you. Your legs dangle over his, and you can feel the firm muscle of his thigh beneath you, solid and warm.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice low by your ear, soothing but edged with that same quiet authority.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Y—Yes.”

“Good,” he murmurs, one of his hands settling on your waist, a steadying touch. “This is about you. About letting go. I want you to take a deep breath.”

You obey, your chest rising and falling as you try to calm your racing heart. But being so close to him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours, it’s impossible not to feel the tension tightening within you.

“Close your eyes for me,” he whispers, and you do, the darkness only making your other senses sharper. His breath is warm against the side of your neck, his voice a gentle hum. “I want you to focus on where you feel that frustration most. Where does it sit?”

“My… my chest? My stomach,” you whisper, embarrassed, but there’s no judgment in his touch.

“I see. That’s the tension. The fear,” he says, his thumb beginning a slow, soothing stroke along your waist. “But I want you to shift your focus. Feel the warmth beneath you. Feel my thigh. That’s where I want you to center your attention.”

You can’t help but notice it now, the solid press of his thigh beneath you, firm and unyielding. Even through the fabric of your clothes, you can feel the heat of his body, a steady, grounding presence.

“Move,” he instructs gently, his hand guiding you just slightly. “Slowly. Don’t think—just feel.”

Your breath catches, embarrassment burning in your cheeks, but the warmth of his body, the calm authority in his voice, it’s enough to keep you from pulling away. Hesitant, you shift your hips, the faintest pressure against his thigh sending a spark up your spine. Your hands grip his forearm for balance, the soft material of his sleeve bunching beneath your fingertips.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise a quiet rumble against your ear. His voice is steady, soothing, but there’s an edge of something darker beneath it, something that makes your skin prickle. “Keep going. Slow. Let your body guide you.”

You hesitate, moving in slow, tentative circles, the friction barely there but impossible to ignore. His thigh is so solid beneath you, a heat that radiates through the thin barrier of your clothing. Your breath stutters, your lips parting as you let yourself press a little more firmly, your hips rolling with a touch more confidence.

“Don’t overthink,” he whispers, his thumb still tracing slow, grounding circles on your waist. “Just feel.”

The pressure grows, a warmth building between your legs, slow and insistent. It’s so little, so faint, but each subtle roll of your hips makes it pulse stronger, the heat spreading, sinking deeper. Your breathing quickens, and you feel a rush of embarrassment, but his hands stay firm, his voice steady, guiding.

“Good. Just like that. No shame. No fear,” he murmurs, his breath brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “This is your body waking up. Don’t fight it.”

A soft whimper slips from your lips, and his grip tightens just slightly, an anchor keeping you steady. You lean back against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, your hips continuing their slow, hesitant movement. Every press, every slow drag of your body against his thigh sends a delicate spark racing through you.

Your hands tighten on his forearm, your fingers digging in slightly as your movements become more natural, the slow, instinctive rhythm guiding you. Heat pools low in your belly, a simmering ache you’ve never quite felt before, so different, so intense.

“Feel that?” Dr. Sim’s voice is a soothing murmur by your ear. “That’s you. Finally letting yourself feel.”

Your thighs tremble, the friction between your legs a constant, teasing pulse, and your breath grows faster. But then something sharper, heavier, begins to build—a pressure, a tingling ache that starts deep and slowly spirals outward. Your hips shift a little faster, and you can’t help the soft, desperate sounds that slip from your lips.

The pressure is unbearable, a heat that pulses and throbs, and you’re on the edge of something vast, something you’ve never touched before. But his voice is there, his touch grounding you even as your senses spiral.

“Don’t hold back. Let go.”

A desperate, shaky gasp escapes you, your hips instinctively grinding down harder against his thigh, chasing that maddening friction. The heat between your legs is a roaring flame now, the ache coiling tighter with each slow, deliberate roll of your hips. His hands never waver, one steady on your waist, the other trailing a soothing, possessive line along your side.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing hum in your ear. “You’re so close. Don’t be afraid.”

But you are afraid. You’re afraid of the sharp, overwhelming pressure that only seems to grow, the strange, urgent tingling that spreads from your core. Panic and need blur together, your hands clutching his arms as your body moves on its own, grinding down, pressing harder, desperate.

“D-Dr. Sim…” you whimper, the words barely a breath. “I-I can’t… I… I think I have to—”

“You don’t,” he reassures, but his voice is firmer now, each word clear and calm. “That’s just your release building. That’s your body finally letting go.”

The tingling sharpens, your thighs trembling, your hips stuttering in their rhythm. You feel yourself hovering on the edge of something unbearable, something so powerful it almost hurts. The urge is so strong, too strong, your breath catches, a tear slipping free as panic flares.

“N-No, please—!” you cry, trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, iron and unyielding.

“Stop,” he commands, his voice so steady, so calm. “You’re not running from this. Not this time.”

His hands shift, locking you in place, his strong fingers splayed against your waist. And then he moves, his thigh flexing beneath you, pressing up, grinding against the desperate ache between your legs. A slow, firm rhythm, each roll forcing that unbearable friction.

Your breath is a desperate, trembling mess, your body arching against him as he controls your movements. His thigh presses harder, and you can feel the muscles shifting beneath you, each grind sending a shock of white-hot pleasure racing through you.

“Feel it,” he whispers, his voice a dark, soothing caress. “Let it happen. Don’t fight it.”

You can’t stop it. You can’t escape. His hands guide you, his thigh pressing, shifting, building that pressure to a blinding peak. The tingling turns to a desperate, pulsing ache, and your nails dig into his arm, your entire body tensing as that unbearable rush surges.

“I… I—!” The words are lost in a broken, gasping cry, your head falling back against his shoulder, your vision blurring.

“Good girl,” he breathes, his voice the only solid thing in your world. “Trust me. I’ve got you.”

And then it snaps.

A tidal wave of heat and white-hot pleasure crashes over you, ripping a desperate, raw cry from your lips. Your body seizes, hips jerking against his thigh, your entire world narrowing to that overwhelming, pulsing release. It’s too much—your breath caught in your throat, your fingers clawing at his arm as you’re lost in the blinding rush.

“That’s it,” Dr. Sim soothes, his voice a steady anchor as your body trembles, every nerve alight. “You’re okay. Just feel it. Let it all out.”

Your hips stutter against him, the aftershocks pulsing through you, each tiny roll of his thigh a fresh spark that leaves you shuddering. His grip never wavers, holding you steady, grounding you even as your senses slowly begin to return.

Your breathing is a ragged, desperate mess, your body slumping back against his chest, weak and boneless. And his hands are still there, warm, steady, gentle now, tracing slow, comforting circles along your sides.

“See?” His voice is a soft, soothing murmur by your ear, the warmth of his breath a gentle contrast to the lingering sparks that dance through your veins. “You didn’t fall. I’ve got you.”

Your breathing is a ragged, desperate mess, your body slumping back against his chest, weak and boneless. The world feels hazy, a warm, trembling glow settling over you, but Dr. Sim’s arms around you are a solid, grounding presence. His fingers trace slow, soothing circles along your sides, his chest rising and falling behind you, a steady, comforting rhythm.

“Breathe,” he whispers, his voice a gentle hum against your ear. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You nod weakly, your head falling back onto his broad shoulder, your cheek pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt. Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-closed as you focus on the warmth of his body, the solid strength of his hold. The tension has melted from your limbs, leaving you feeling weightless, a gentle ache pulsing through you with every shaky breath.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “You did so well. Just relax.”

You let yourself sink into his warmth, your own breathing gradually slowing, the frantic rush of sensation easing to a soft, blissful hum. But as his fingers trace a slow, soothing path down your waist, a faint shiver runs through you, awareness tingling at the edges of your senses.

“D-Dr. Sim…” you breathe, a whisper, but you can’t bring yourself to move, your body still so soft, so pliant in his embrace.

“Hm?” he hums, almost absentmindedly, his hand continuing its slow, gentle path. His fingers trail lower, brushing over your stomach through the thin fabric of your shirt, tracing light, soothing circles that leave a warm, tingling trail in their wake.

“I… I feel so…” You trail off, embarrassment coloring your cheeks, but the words won’t come. It’s too much—too raw, too vulnerable.

But he seems to understand, his touch never faltering. “Sensitive?” he offers, his voice soft but edged with something darker, something you can’t quite name. “That’s normal. Especially for your first time letting go like that.”

His fingers dip lower, the slow, teasing touch skating just above the waistband of your pants, and a faint, breathless shudder runs through you.

“Just… relax for me,” he soothes, his voice a quiet murmur against your ear. “I’m here.”

Your breath catches as his hand slips beneath the waistband, the warm, gentle touch of his fingers against your bare skin sending a fresh spark of heat racing through you. Your hips shift instinctively, a faint, desperate whine slipping free before you can stop it.

“Dr. Sim…” you whimper, your voice a trembling plea, but you don’t pull away. You can’t.

“Shh.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear, a gentle, reassuring touch. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

His fingers slide lower, parting your folds with a slow, deliberate touch. The warmth of his fingertips against your slick, oversensitive skin makes your hips jerk, a desperate, breathless gasp spilling from your lips. Your thighs tremble, your back pressing instinctively against his chest as your fingers curl against his arm.

“So wet,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice a low, soothing hum. “Your body’s still so sensitive. Perfect.”

You feel a fresh rush of heat flood your cheeks, your breath stuttering as his fingers trace slow, feather-light circles over your swollen, pulsing clit. The sensation is overwhelming—sharp, electric, a raw pulse of pleasure that sends your hips twitching, a helpless, needy whimper escaping you.

“Easy,” he soothes, his other arm wrapping around your waist, holding you steady against him. “You’re fine. You’re okay.”

His touch is so careful, so gentle, and yet each light stroke is enough to make your thighs tense, your chest rising and falling with shaky breaths. Your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting, another desperate sound slipping free as your hips shift, chasing that impossible, teasing friction.

“Dr. Sim… please…” you whisper, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice a soft, soothing caress. “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

His fingers continue their slow, lazy strokes, never pressing too hard, never rushing, just keeping you on that knife’s edge of sensation, the warmth building, the ache growing sharper. And all the while, his voice is there, a steady, grounding whisper against your ear.

“So sensitive… but you’re so perfect like this,” he breathes, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

[hyuckswoman]

your doorbell rang and you thought you might be the unluckiest person alive because you were ever so close to a mental breakdown and not in the mood for whatever stood opposite of your door. “mark?” you ask seeing him on your front porch “saw your tweet, brought burgers and i’m here for a chat” he says coming in before you could even invite him. wayyyyy too comfortable you thought.

“it’s fine mark, don’t worry” “no it’s not, do you not want to talk about it? because if that’s the case then i just came here for burgers” “no i do but you’re not my therapist shouldn’t always vent to you like you have other things to worry about” “well it’s crazy you say that because i like it when you vent to me as i know you're not keeping it in AND it shows me you trust me enough to be vulnerable, so you will spill while we eat okay?”

“so what’s up?” mark says while setting down his burger back in it’s wrapping

“jisung is making me lose my mind” you start pausing for a moment to sigh, hating the words that were about to come next “i thought i moved on, like sure we were really close and i liked him but i hate it when people think i’m stupid and like ghosting me from nowhere? like it pissed me off so bad and today we get to do this thing with our group project partner right? and so we needed to team up and work on this assignment and he barely even fucking glanced my way and sat on his phone the whole time???? i had to do the assignment on my own” you say getting worked up recalling today’s happenings “damn he couldn’t have helped you?? sounds like he sucks” your best friend inputs “even if he paid attention i don’t think he would’ve been able to help, today’s assignment was on a section he struggled… UGHHHH i hate that i even remember that about him!” you say throwing yourself onto your couch fully committed to this mental breakdown. “and like after i handed the assignment WITH HIS NAME on it i was fuming like i was so pissed and so i angry texted him and part of me wanted him to either ignore me or i don’t know like be mean?? like he was originally but NO you know what he did?? he APOLOGIZED and then told me he MISSES ME like oh my god why would you do that to meeeeeeeughhhh” you finish dragging out the me “and the worst part is, i don’t know why it affects me so much but it does” “why did you reply?” “I didn’t, just closed the app and went home trying not to cry and then you showed up” “listen, i don’t think you’re going to like what i’m going to say but maybe it affects you so much because you liked him more than you think?”

“well that is pretty obvious like, i went from hating him to tolerating him to seeing and talking to him 24/7 so yes i figured that if i’m so upset about this is because he was a better friend than i thought of him” “no, y/n that’s not what i mean… i mean maybe you like him, as i crush i mean…. do you?” “i’ve never thought about it hold on this is a whole new thing we need to unpack oh my goooooooooooood” you say kicking the pillows on your couch. this was bad

so after a good hour and a half of unpacking every. single. conversation, interaction, glance, text, mention of this man you’ve ever had in your life, you turned to your best friend and said

“i hate you for making me realize that i have a crush on park jisung.”

34. bad

previous chapter masterlist

notes: in case anyone cares… i did not go on that date and i am no longer talking to this man… all that in two days 😝😝😝 trust that one day i will go on a date tho..

also a friend (kinda) of mine wants to meet up (i haven’t seen this man in like three years and we were never really friends) and lord i hope i can bring other people bc i am not seeing him alone! i am wayyyy too awkward for this

taglist: @kgyam4 @sunghoonsgfreal @injunnie-lemon @nctrawberries @222low @multifandomania @nemonemoz @starwonb1n @222brainrot @sinsgaybutthatsokay @defzcl @lostinneocity @junviadinho @mrsbyun-baek @skepvids @wonbin-truther @jkslvsnella @jising-jisang-jisung @nanaxwi @polarisjisung @amrqxz @jirsungs @haechansbbg @dalsosapple @pookime @pinklemonade34 @lotties-readings @roseangelxfuma @jiiieun @hrtleehan @mystverse @alethea-moon @stqrgr7 @nosungluv @dinonuguaegi @addyanm @kenmaswoman @okkkcausewhet @starfilledgaze @iseos1 @jovialdelusionbouquet @tywritesstuff @luffysprincess @pinkberryy15 @theandypark @keeryverse

[yikesy]

I'm aware of how random this sounds

But because rrverse Apollo and rrverse Hermes have a tense and distant relationship, I was thinking about how differently they interact with their kids, and my thoughts spiralled until I thought of Luke.

I feel like an Apollo and Luke interaction would be so interesting. Luke probably wouldn't like him due how May got all messed up from trying to be his Oracle, but I feel like Apollo would be a kind uncle BECAUSE he knows what Luke's fate is (and probably disapproves about how Hermes treated the whole thing).

Like remember when Apollo once said that he would of adopted Frank if he could? I would like to think he would of wanted to adopt Luke too.

Your thoughts?

oh luke DOES NOT have a good impression of apollo. apart from the may thing let's not forget the event that kinda radicalized him was HALCYON GREEN. it's very interesting actually because he sees hermes as uncaring and neglectful but he sees apollo as actively malicious

so he thinks hermes is The Worst bc of his inaction but then comes apollo who he perceives as too involved, in the bad way (he's not, luke who by pure coincidence witnessed two apollo related atrocities before sixteen is an outlier and shouldn't be counted) Lots of wires crossed

but sadly I think bc of that his reaction to apollo would be very,, measured?? like, he thinks he's evil!! apollo would come down to see what's the deal with this kid everyone's making such a fuss about and luke would be very polite and amiable and and apollo would get hermes vibes™™ that he's just acting like that to hide he's scared and uncomfortable and then apollo would leave bc he doesn't want to keep subjecting him to that by forcing his presence. but he wouldn't know just How Much he was lying then and the depth of his Issues

but if they somehow got into a situation where luke gives up any attempt at preservation and GOES OFF at apollo (which he would) apollo would, well he would respond very calmly and pointedly take responsibility for everything which would confuse THE FUCK out of luke

and then he would go directly to hermes and tell him he needs to get down here now this shit is serious and hermes would be like "you know I can't why are you making it more painful than it already is" and apollo would be like "you're being an extremist and oddly stubborn about this" and they would go at it for a looong time.

apollo's opinion on luke's fate is that hermes may not be able to control or change it but what hermes can control is his own relationship with luke and the way he's hurting him right now, that if tragedy is going to happen anyway and you love the one it's heading to, then it's your duty to balance the scales and steal moments from between the lines of prophecy, so that happiness WAS there, even if it didn't change anything. that hermes is not only withdrawing his love but causing more misery to an already doomed person... he cannot stand for it

in the end apollo would end up routinely dragging hermes to see luke bc hermes does want to but he won't admit anything to apollo and he'd be sooo awkward and pathetic with luke and luke would stare at him with disdain and judgement. in the end apollo ends up acting like a kind of particularly forceful family therapist

so lmao from luke's perspective it would be like "this guy I don't like and I don't understand, for an unfathomable reason, took my dad being absent as a personal offense and now keeps dragging him here like some kind of cat who keeps bringing dead mouse and keeps dropping by to give me weekly updates and lessons on godly psychology and politics"

[blood-orange-juice]

I realised I have a problem with the "Childe has cPTSD" idea that has been getting popularity in fandom, but it's probably more because of my gripe as a psych professional with the concept of cPTSD in general.

It's an understudied disorder and it's not yet in the DSM-V. Therapists use the term because it's better than nothing (they have to treat people regardless of whether we have a comprehensive theory of how humans function) but as it is now it simply clumps together too many things.

It started with a very reasonable thought that prolonged exposure to moderately stressful events can be just as harmful as One Huge Trauma, and also that the effects or prolonged exposure to stress will differ from only experiencing something once.

Sadly, the most common scenario in which a Western person (the type that has access to therapy and gets to talk about it online) can get cPTSD is child abuse. This means in the cases that are studied and discussed cPTSD response to prolonged stress is mixed with developmental trauma (all kinds of insufficient parenting and a child's needs not being met), attachment trauma (not having a stable relationship with a caretaker at a very early age when attachment strategies are formed), relational trauma (any trauma gotten in relationships at any age) and just general reaction to abuse (and all the damage to agency and self-worth that comes from it).

cPTSD of a person who came back from a war will differ a lot from cPTSD of a person who was raised by an abusive parent. There are similarities, sure, and it's important to recognise that a bad family situation can be just as damaging as being in an active war zone (in that sense the term has done more good than harm), but these two people won't have the same self-concepts and coping strategies.

The concept of cPTSD can be very useful if you are trying to understand what is happening to you personally or to explain it to your therapist (or to find a trauma-informed therapist), it isn't bad. But you can't say "this character has cPTSD" and derive meaningful predictions about his behaviour or self-image from it. It's too much of an umbrella term.

So, back to our boy. Bad things only started to happen to him at 14 and it's different from someone being consistently traumatised from an early age.

Does he have hypervigilance, bizarre strategies of self-regulation, at least some amount of dissociation, occasional attention problems and intolerance to helplessness? Yeah, probably, his lifestyle would do that to pretty much anyone. Prolonged stress just does that, doesn't matter how badass someone is. Some negative beliefs about himself are also likely. Difficulty with connecting with others is a given (everyone else lives in a different reality, how would he even begin to connect).

Does he have relational trauma? Also yes, we all do. Some justified guilt and anger over how things went? Not necessary but very possible. Some irrational guilt for things he couldn't control? Again, not necessary but I could roll with that (it's a common response to helplessness. guilt is easier to stomach than the loss of control).

Would he behave like a child abuse victim, thinking himself completely worthless and constantly doubting and pitying himself? I don't think so. He looks like a person who has never been abused in his life. It's very fun to write and I understand the appeal of it (I'm probably occasionally guilty of that too) but it's simply not how he's portrayed in canon.

He wouldn't think of himself like a child of narcissistic parents would either (having to be the best to prove his right to exist). He was long past the age when he could have gotten that type of trauma when Abyss and the Fatui happened to him. Also his resilience comes from somewhere and I think it's from having a loving family. Sure, it wasn't a perfect family (I have a lot of questions for them) and now it's irreparably messed up even more but he does look like a person who was loved as a kid.

[anastasiaaz]

BOUND BY DECEPTION — SCARA'S CIRCLE

SCARAMOUCHE x f!reader

' ZEPHYR CADENCE '

˖ ZEPHYR CADENCE SMALL INFO ˖

SCARAMOUCHE : LEAD GUITARIST

Scaramouche never intended to become a well known celebrity. It was all thanks to that dimwit ginger head who signed him up without his consent. Now, he can't even resign! It would only make him look stupid. Well, that's what he thinks.

It wasn't that bad. Scara thought. As soon as he got his hand on a guitar, he couldn't stop himself from playing it. He finds solace in playing guitar, it somehow keeps his stress and problems away. (It makes him look cool also) He learnt it fast in just a few weeks before the audition!

He did not even spare a single glance at the people that also passed the audition. Why would he? There is no need to gawk at people who are literal pests. Plus, he doesn't need any friends to begin with.

...

No matter how much they kept pestering him, they would only earn a scowl from the indigo haired boy. He was tired, they somehow got the address to his place! They've been visiting him in hopes of being friends with scara. They made themselves feel at home like it was their own place instead of his! his peaceful life was now long gone.

Days then passed and scara's gotten used to it. Well, what can he do? They're obsessive and don't listen to a word he says! He gave up anyways. Now, they pamper him up till he agrees to be friends w them!

AETHER : KEYBOARDIST

Honestly, He can take any role he wants as he knows how to handle almost every instrument. Audition because he wants to provide more for him and his sister! Such a good brother, am i right?

Fan girls found him appealing because of his kindness towards people! (Always getting caught in public helping people)

VENTI : BASSIST

Venti who just instantly shove the awkwardness aside when faced with his band mates the first time. Aether convinced him to join a band with him! (They've been best friends since high school)

this guy is the one who can instantly liven up the place and the people during their performance.

XIAO : SUB GUITARIST " RHYTHM GUITARISTS

Is like scara but more like an upgrade. this guy barely talks in conversation and will end it abruptly and quickly.

He's like a mature version of scara.

zhongli signed xiao up as xiao wants to make money with his own hands.

xiao & scara don't get along very well and it's because scara looks down on xiao's guitar skills while xiao does not like scara's pride and that sharp tongue of his. But, but, but! Don't get me wrong, they are literal besties when one of them is feeling down!

HEIZOU : DRUMMER

This guy has many real and loyal fan girls. Not only does he look majestic and breathtaking, but he's also incredibly good at playing the drums!

This guy would always tease scara off stage when bored or when kazuha is nowhere to be found.

He joined the band because his friend suggested being one! (his dead friend..)

A literal genius!??? Proven in an interview w the rest of the band mates :>

KAZUHA : VOCALIST

The finest man that could ever exist!? This guy befriended everyone without any problems!

Scara? Yes him too! In fact, scara finds Kazuha's presence tolerable than any other band mates! scara may find kazuha's poetic words annoying, but it sometimes soothes him!!

Yes, DESPITE HIS SOFT AND ANGELIC VOICE, he can rock, rock music :3 !!

the therapist of the group!

CHILDE : VLOGGER

Alright. I know he isn't a part of the band but still! he's friends w all of scara's band mates. So, if it weren't for childe, scara wouldn't be a part of the band!

He likes to vlog w them sometimes!!

| YNS CIRCLE | MASTERLIST | EPILOGUE |

◟◝ IN WHICH ⌇ kunikuzushi, was your middle school crush that you seemed to not get over with. Thinking you won't be seeing him again when you both graduated from middle school and to high school, Things took a turn when you reached the first year of college, meeting him again on the same classes you took. It seems like fate has given you the chance to rewrite what should've been, leading you to not waste the opportunity and reach your love for him. Except, being the lonely guy in the past turned to him being flocked around by people. Turns out, he became an idol! Leading to you having a hard time approaching him. But when you did, he throws unpleasant words, glared at you the way he did with his fans, and then waved you off. The butterflies surrounding your heart fluttered away by then. To make it worse, you both became academic rivals.

◟◝ GENRE + WARNINGS ⌇ smau, f!reader, college au, fluff, angst, cyber bullying, kys/kms jokes, ignore the time stamps, pictures used for the reader is not meant to represent their looks but the pose, reader is considered to be a study freak & aloof, scara is a real dick (more to be added)

Authors note : taglist now available!! :3 | OKAY,, SO SORRY 4 THE DELAY I HAD TOO MUCH FUN THESE FEW DAYS... this was rushed so i hope you all don't mind the grammar!! ;P

[thegreatyin]

update on my previous post; dived too deep. read way too much sonic lore. hey quick question is shadow the hedgehog like okay

[bumblingbabooshka]

Every time I watch the cold open of Memorial and B'Elanna tells Tom about how she ASSEMBLED a 50's television set from SCRATCH just to surprise him (there's no reason beyond that - just an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gesture) and replicated popcorn for him to eat while he watches and Tom says "They didn't have remote controls in the 50's ♥ Also where's my beer?" I contemplate murder ESPECIALLY because B'Elanna responds cheerfully to it - GIRL!!! LEAVE HIM!!!!!! IS HE SUPPOSED TO BE CHARMING IN THIS SCENE????

[sysig]

Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)

[aquaticmines]

I don’t think Amy should show up in Sonic 3 because she deserves time for her own arc, and in Sonic 4 having her help Sonic work through his emotional baggage over Shadow’s “death” is probably a better use of her whole character than having her be in the third film for completionists’ sake

[a-shadowedvales]

so… in the additional media of stranger things (specifically the comics i’m mentioning), it was initially brenner’s idea/plan to kill off the other test subjects because they weren’t performing as well as eleven was. it was his best solution because that way, all the resources, time, and money could instead be placed only to her. and i just…. sure henry is a fine character and the massacre makes a lot of sense to me, but i think i am once again gonna change up my canon to actually fit this potential narrative instead.

i genuinely think the comic canon of the lab and brenner is far more intriguing than the show. everything with 9/9.5, ricky, and francine. eleven being the only one who grew up completely in the lab. those other kids were either volunteers, well into their teens, or had some semblance of a home life. eleven was the only one practically moulded from the womb. and they all had such a range of interesting powers. i firmly stand with the idea that jane is the only one who can contact the void.

brenner’s entire point of view on the lab subjects changed the second he found out terry was pregnant. he discovered he could steal this baby and make her his own. there would be no convincing the child because it’s all she would have ever known. because of this, i would not put it past a man like brenner to kill the other subjects for the sake of the “greater good” in this case, eleven.

eleven’s gifts just continue thriving beyond his wildest expectations. brenner would never dare assume that having moulded her from the womb, she would still be able to grow into her own person, her own mind, and one day be able to see him for exactly who he was.

back before season four aired, it was obvious there were other test subjects because jane was 011. so there were at least ten kids before her. but i always liked the idea/assumed that she was the last experiment because she was the most successful. that they didn’t need anyone after her because she was fulfilling everything they set out for her to do. with flying colours.

i just think the whole rainbow room idea, pitting the kids against each other thing… been there, done that. boring and predictable. i think at this point my portrayal of her time in hawkins lab really stems from the complete isolation she endured. where having the rainbow room, although eleven was obviously the most isolated out of the kids, brings that sense of community and sister/brotherhood. albeit extremely warped and toxic. knowing that she wasn’t alone in that experience just. doesn’t sit well with me. i think it’s important to note that she was alone, physically and mentally. which is why kali is also so important to her growth. i thought a lot of the flashbacks of her time in the lab during season four was really boring, repetitive, and just very predictable. although peter becoming vecna was a surprise to me, and was a nice little twist, the idea of her having an ally on the inside was really interesting.

maybe they did get as far as they do in canon, peter ballad was telling the truth about everything, about some of the workers there being prisoners like him, and he really wanted to get her out and to safety. but before they can escape through the pipes, they’re caught. peter is shot on the spot, and eleven is put into the isolation room for a few days as punishment. in this timeline, henry would be vecna, but henry would not be peter ballad.

when eleven turned seven, and was already showing extreme promise, where the other children were average at best, brenner had the eight children killed. kali had already escaped. this was the main cause for peter to gain eleven’s trust and try to get her out. because if brenner could murder his “children” in cold blood, there’s no way eleven was safe even in spite of her power.

when eleven is allowed out of the isolation room, her testing becomes more rigorous in attempt to distance and make her forget about what she attempted to do with peter. brenner begins gaslighting her, saying that there was never a peter, that she must have been dreaming. eleven does ask “papa” about “mama”, given peter told her of the day terry broke in the lab, but brenner is convincing enough to make eleven believe it was all in her head. say she is around eight years old, meaning the same timeline of season fours canon flashbacks.

i still do wanna keep the henry creel canon, and keep him as 001. brenner didn’t have him killed alongside the other test subjects, because who knows, one day he could become an even better asset than 011. brenner definitely wants to be able to control henry, but keeps the chip in him because, for the moment, doesn’t know how. killing him would be too big of a loss.

when eleven is ten years old, henry’s concealed powers break free and he manages to get the chip out himself, and unleashes hell onto hawkins lab. he almost kills brenner by snapping his bones, but eleven manages to stop him. her extreme abilities are unleashed, and she sends henry to the upside down. she does fall into a coma due to the extremity of the situation, but she does not forget what happened. brenner believes she’s the perfect weapon as she stepped in to save him without a second thought, was able to defeat henry, and opened a door to something he never thought possible. eleven is rewarded for her efforts. although she remembers the entire battle / confrontation, her memories regarding the portal are very hazy.

brenner decides not to focus on the portal straight away, instead gets her training harder and harder to see what else she can accomplish. also loved the idea of brenner sending her into the void to “look for him” so that will definitely be kept.

by the time she escapes and season one begins, her knowledge of the upside down is basically what we see in canon. because she passed out the moment after she sent henry away, she was once again gaslighted into believing she merely threw him through the glass and killed him. for two years she believed this, until making contact with the demogorgan, and those memories return completely.

due to her saving brenner’s life, (it was pure instinct. she happened to be there. saw her “papa” hurt and knew she had to make him better.) brenner constantly thanks her. but in a very condescending way. tells her: “you saved me so i can continue saving you.” aka, harness your abilities and see what else i can achieve from you. despite the fact that she saved his life, these words and phrases make her feel indebted to him. that she owes him something further.

i don't realistically see her thriving with her speech improvement until she's well into her twenties at least. her slowed development, sensory and social deprivation causes a serious delay in language. surrounded by other children she would have overheard conversations, some would have spoken to her. her conveniently forgetting her upbringing pre the battle with henry just isn't good enough for me anymore. it makes more sense for her to have been raised alone.

it also helps indicate why she gravitated towards the boys when they found her in the woods. they would have been the first people her age she ever remembered seeing. as far as she knew, during the lab there was no one like her. everyone was much older, they were adults-- although she stayed with benny, i'm not sure if she would have stuck around very long. where she followed the boys home without thought.

also it's important to note that after time, jane does understand that peter ballad was a real person, and was truly the first person (aside from terry) who wanted the best for her. when she remembers him, knows that brenner was lying, she deals with immense guilt regarding his death. he was shot right in front of her eyes, because he was trying to help her. this is another catalyst as to why after season two, jane never refers to brenner as papa. she does not give him that sort of credit.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

As a Kandreil enjoyer and known Kandrew lover, I think it’s weird and embarrassing as hell when Kandreil/Kevin stans who’s least favorite pairing in it is Andreil try to frame them prioritizing each other more and more as the series goes on as somehow insidious or toxic. Like, you can dislike the direction For Sure and wish it was written differently, but be honest that it’s because of Kevin being your favorite (perfectly valid, I also react disproportionately when my favorite character is hurt by something narratively vs when it’s other chars even if I like/love them) and has nothing to do with *problematic messages about romance* (BAH!) or whatever you are trying to frame it as being the concern instead. 

[2005noroithecurse]

my bf being a therapist is actually really enlightening because I've learned a whole lot about how to spot a bad therapist

[youjustcannotknow]

the weight of the world has crushed me flat on this fine afternoon

[wutheringmights]

If spirit and mask get stuck in warriors' hyrule forever, is it forever-forever, or do they get to go home after lu? Both options seem sad, but I'm trying to image them going home after giving up on the possibility and trying to build a new life, and I am making myself sad

I was thinking forever-forever.

That idea started because I was imagining a scenario where the Chain (CTB chain or this AU chain) ended up in this version of Warriors's era and meet Warriors, Spirit, and Mask (specifically, I was imagining them showing up in the middle of one of Spirit's abductions). So it would need to be in the present day, which would mean they would have to stay.

And yeah, it is sad. Mask would take it as a sign that the universe is out to ruin his life, but he would eventually cope with his lot in life. This mean he would be about 15 years old in the present day. Warriors is trying to force him to go to school and at least be literate before running off again. He is also subtly trying to push him into formally becoming a squire in the Knights of Hyrule with Linkle so that someone (Lincoln) can keep an eye on him.

Oh yeah. If they end up staying, they get their house in Castle Town. It's a town house that is in a nice part of town, but not aristocratic. Firmly middle class. I have a lot of ideas about how Warriors can afford this, but I won't go too deep into his finances. Just know that he has a job in the Royal Guard still, has a hefty pension, some money from the Waltons, and some debt to Impa. He wants to transition out of the Royal Guard and into government work, but he's meeting some resistance. He's calmed down a lot, and his ambition is solely motivated by a desire to make his family comfortable.

Spirit, though... Spirit becomes depressed. He always thought he would go home. And to suddenly lose that life line-- he's crushed. But Spirit is Spirit, and he is the only one making trains in this era. So he throws himself into his work and becomes a massive workaholic. With Ganondorf as his secret investor, he's very successful and is actually making bank.

But with Spirit and Mask stuck in this era, Warriors's fear that he would be abandoned vanishes. They'll be here forever. He'll be okay. So he pulls back significantly and starts tending to other things. This would make Spirit super insecure. He only has Warriors and Mask left, and now Warriors is pulling back? Absolutely not.

So Spirit becomes way more clingy/codependent on Warriors as a weird coping mechanism. He needs therapy, but of course, that won't happen any time soon.

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[didsomeonesayventus]

god do i think so much about how alear got the worst parent wombo combo in the god damn world where one of them established unreasonable expectations on themselves + made them a people pleasing sort, then other unfortunately deeply reinforced it