#surely this will make perfect sense when I see it again at my next therapy appointment

[fortunechaos]

Having a bad time but not for the perfectly good reason to be having a bad time and instead for infinitely stupider reasons.

[propertyofkylar]

crawls in covered in blood

Harper 19 👀?

doctor's orders - m!harper x gn!pc

tags/warnings: 19. kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, medical kink, reader's genitalia left ambiguous

word count: 1810

note: wow....i hope THE harperfucker enjoys this...

“Mhm. And how has your mood been lately?”

You shifted slightly in your chair, sitting on your hands. Dr. Harper was a strange one. He was something of a therapist and psychiatrist. But he also treated injuries, and you had heard he’d even done gynecology work, so you still weren’t entirely sure what kind of doctor he even was. But the pills he prescribed worked well, so you came every Friday to see him. 

“Um,” you hedged a bit, but Harper’s encouraging smile urged you forward. “I mean, it’s not great. You know? Things kinda…suck.”

Harper nodded as you spoke, looking the perfect image of a doctor as he jotted down something on his notepad.  

“So I guess I’ve just been kind of…down. If that makes sense?” You offered. 

Harper nodded again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Huh?” You hadn’t expected that. Harper offered you a warm smile. 

“I’m experimenting with more herbal remedies,” he explained. “I’ve purchased some tea leaves that claim to help with feelings of depression and anxiety. I thought you might like to try some. I know you like the pills, so this would just be a supplement of sorts. It may help lift your mood, even just a bit.”

Something made you feel a little uneasy. But your doctor had never steered you wrong before. And it was just a cup of herbal tea. What’s the worst thing that could happen? It would taste bad?

So, you nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Harper gave you another smile and stood up, busying himself with an electric kettle in the corner of the room. You watched idly from your seat. Maybe a warm cup of tea would be exactly what you needed. 

Several minutes later, Harper handed you a steaming mug. An herbal smell of chamomile, lavender, and something else you didn’t recognize wafted towards you. “If you like it, I’ll send it home with you along with your meds.”

You thanked the doctor and took a sip. It was warm with a mildly sweet taste. “It’s good,” you said, going back in for another sip. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Harper said. 

At the very least, a warm drink would make you feel better temporarily. The doctor made idle chitchat with you as you continued drinking. By the time you had emptied the mug, though, your head was feeling a little fuzzy. 

“Are you alright?” Harper asked, only seeming mildly concerned. “The herb blend does have a relaxing effect. It may be that it’s making you tired. 

“Mm…yeah…” you rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling groggy. “Haven’t been sleeping well lately…”

“Don’t worry,” Harper was leaning forward in his chair, almost in anticipation. “Close your eyes. My next appointment isn’t for a while. You can sleep here for a bit, no worries.”

“‘Kay,” you murmured, your eyes shutting of their own accord. “Just a lil bit…”

You were out like a light. 

When you came to, you had no idea where you were. 

It didn’t feel like you were still in the hospital, though it still seemed like a doctor’s office of sorts. But the light was harsh and artificial, and you got the feeling this room wasn’t used too often. 

Also, your arms were bound to the bed, which wasn’t great. 

“Mm?” You were still quite groggy, so actual words didn’t come out of your mouth. You suddenly became aware of a figure looming over you, smiling. “D-doctor…?”

Harper undid your arm bindings, inviting you to sit up. “Sorry for that! I didn’t want you to move around or get violent in your sleep. The…tea effects are a little unpredictable.”

You rubbed at your sore wrists - how long had you been like this? - as you took in the surroundings. “Where did you take me?”

Harper rolled a chair next to the bed, stroking your hair in a rather unprofessional manner. “This is my private office. You need a more intensive therapy.”

You blinked. “I do?”

Harper nodded. “Yes. Your depression and anxiety is rather treatment resistant. I want to try some different things with you to help you get better,” he slid his hands to hold yours. They were cold and smooth. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

There was something wrong. Something was off. But your brain felt so, so fuzzy. “Yeah…that sounds nice.”

Harper beamed and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Now, let’s begin,” he pulled his notepad out and studied it closely. “You say you’ve experienced rape and sexual assault. Is this right?” 

You shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…yeah.”

He nodded again and checked something off on the notepad. “Good. Then we are going to have sex.”

“What?!” Your ears were ringing. Did he just say that?

Harper set down the notepad and looked closely at you. “You say the assaults cause you trauma. Correct? I can show you how sex can be pleasurable and it will sort of rewire your brain.” He smiled placidly at you. “Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

It was weird. Something felt off. But…you trusted him. So you found yourself agreeing.

“Good!” Harper smiled warmly at you, standing up in front of you. Despite the smile, there was something oddly intimidating about him. But he was a doctor, and you weren’t. So it was probably okay. Right? 

The doctor sat next to you on the bed, moving closer then he’d ever been. “The first step is foreplay. This usually begins with kissing. Are you comfortable with that?” His breath was warm on your face. You nodded. 

And then the two of you were kissing, Harper’s mouth surprisingly cold, much like his hands were. “Very good,” he murmured. Harper practically tugged you into his lap and your patient gown rode up, making you suddenly very aware that there was nothing on underneath. Wait, weren’t you in a therapy session before? Where did your clothes go…?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you realized you could feel Harper’s cock rubbing against your most sensitive areas. The feeling drew a whimper out of you, which sparked Harper to reach under the gown and grab at your back. 

“P-please,” you whined, grinding down on Harper. 

But he did not relent. “Please what?” He asked. “You need to be specific.”

“Please…” you sucked in a deep breath. “Please, fuck me.”

“Very good,” Harper pulled away and beamed. “You’re a very good patient. You learn quickly.”

He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small tube. As he squeezed the slimy fluid onto his fingers, you realized what it was - lube. “This may be cold,” Harper said before slipping two fingers into your hole. You bit down on your lip and groaned as the doctor scissored his fingers inside of you. It felt good, but it also felt methodical and practiced.

You pawed at the bulge in Harper’s pants, which he was not expecting judging by his sharp intake of breath. “T-that’s enough,” he stammered, momentarily losing his cool composure. “I think you’re ready now.”

Harper pulled his hand back and unzipped his pants. With one movement he tugged down his pants and boxers and you were suddenly staring directly at his thick cock. It was flushed and twitching, and the bead of precum on the tip gave you the sudden urge to lick it. 

But that wasn’t what was going to happen, at least not today, as Harper was stroking his dick with additional lube, and the way he was looking at you - no, leering - was decidedly unprofessional. You were too far gone at that point, though. The only thought in your head was how badly you needed that cock inside of you.

Your doctor grabbed you by the hips and, ever-so-slowly, lowered you down onto his cock. Harper practically hissed as you sunk further and further onto him, until your hips were flush with his. 

“V-very good,” Harper managed to get out, his face turning red. This was an act you were quite familiar with, and your instincts kicked in. You started moving up and down, Harper’s hands still gripping you tightly, and he began rocking his hips in unison.

Harper seemed practiced in every aspect, with his cock managing to hit every sensitive spot inside of you. He was consistent, too. Every thrust was almost rhythmic. It made the hospital bed creak and squeak, and if you weren’t almost entirely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve worried about its stability. But all you could focus on was riding Harper and how fucking amazing it felt. Maybe it was that tea you had, or maybe your doctor was just that good at fucking.

His grip on your hips only added to the pleasure and you quickly began feeling heat intensifying within you.

“I think,” you tried to start but were cut off by your own moan. “I’m gonna…” 

“Cum,” Harper said plainly, though clearly struggling to stay calm. “You can cum. It’ll - haa - be good for you and your…fffucking treatment.”

You didn’t need Harper to tell you twice, his hips slamming into you. You grabbed onto his shoulders and cried out as the orgasm wracked your entire body. You squeezed your eyes shut, but when you opened them, you noticed Harper was staring intently at you. It felt as though he was staring into your soul.

After several more thrusts, you could tell Harper was about to hit his limit as well. Never easing up on his grip, Harper held you down as he came, filling your insides with his hot cum. The two of you stayed connected for a few moments before he gently pulled you off, you letting out a whine at the loss of contact. Harper quietly studied his cum leaking out of your hole and dripping down your leg, then jotted down a few more notes in his notebook. You wondered what he was writing.

“Well,” Harper smiled at you, straightening his clothes out. “You did a great job. You’re a fast learner. I hope that was pleasurable.”

You could only nod in response.

“However,” Harper looked down at his notebook with a slight frown. “I’m afraid you still have a long way to go. This is only the beginning. I’ll need to keep you here at least for a few more days for further studying and treatment.”

“Oh…” you mumbled. In your post-orgasmic state, you struggled to understand what was going on. But maybe a longer stay wouldn’t be so bad.

Harper stood up, clutching his notebook to his chest, and gave you a few soft pats on the head. “No worries. I’ve already communicated with your guardian and school, so everything will be just fine.” He gave you another grin, one that felt a little less genuine, and made you feel a little uneasy. “Trust me. There is no better place for you to be right now than right here.”

And with that, he left the room.

[marchyfrommars]

Supernatural (2005-2020)

The Winchester Brothers’ Never-Ending Road Trip

So, you’ve heard about Supernatural, huh? The show that ran for 15 years, outlived several CW presidents and survived cast exhaustion. Strap in, because here’s the rundown of this legendary rollercoaster of a series.

Plot? Who Needs Plot When You’ve Got… More Plot. The premise is simple: Two ridiculously attractive brothers, Sam (Hair Goals) Winchester and Dean (I Eat Pie Like It’s My Job) Winchester, drive around in a sweet 1967 Chevy Impala hunting ghosts, demons, and things that go bump in the night. Sounds straightforward, right? Oh, you sweet summer child. By Season 15, they’re fighting God. Yes, the capital-G guy upstairs. And it totally makes sense… somehow.

The Bromance: Sam and Dean’s relationship is the emotional core of the show. One minute, they’re yelling, “You lied to me!” The next, they’re hugging and dramatically saying, “We’re all we’ve got.” Family therapy, who?

Monsters Galore: If it exists in folklore, Supernatural has hunted it. Vampires? Yep. Werewolves? Sure. Killer clowns? Obviously. That creepy thing you thought lived under your bed as a kid? Oh, that was definitely a Supernatural episode.

Humor That Slaps: The show knows it’s ridiculous and leans into it. Highlights include: Dean thinking he’s a literal dog for an episode. ("Look at my face. Do I look like I’m joking?"). A black-and-white monster movie tribute complete with campy Dracula. Sam getting possessed by a demon and going on a coffee bender (no one has ever looked happier about caffeine).

Guest Stars from Heaven (and Hell): Castiel, the socially awkward angel who doesn’t understand personal space, steals every scene he’s in(and we LOVE him). Crowley, the snarky demon king, delivers sass like he’s on a Bravo reality show. And let’s not forget Bobby Singer, the grumpy surrogate dad who made “Idjits” an iconic insult.

Fake Deaths Galore: If you got a dollar every time a Winchester died and came back, you’d have enough cash to buy your own haunted mansion. Death is basically their vacation spot.

The Apocalypse, Again?: By the time the third apocalypse rolls around, you’re like, “Can someone else save the world for once? The Avengers, maybe?”

Overtime Issues: Around Season 11, you might feel like the writers are spinning a roulette wheel labeled “Heaven,” “Hell,” and “Another Monster with Daddy Issues.” But you stick around, because you’re too invested in the Impala’s gas mileage at this point.

The Legacy, fifteen years later, Supernatural left us with:

- A lifetime’s worth of classic rock songs stuck in our heads.

- Enough fan theories to fill an actual Bible.

- Destiel.

- A devoted fandom ready to argue whether Dean deserved that ending (spoiler: no pie in heaven?! Blasphemy!).

It’s not perfect—plot holes so big you could drive Baby through them—but it’s heartfelt, funny, and ridiculously addictive. Watching Supernatural is like hanging out with chaotic friends who always have a crazy story: you roll your eyes at their antics but wouldn’t miss it for the world.

And since it is my favourite series, of course I would recommend. But remember, when someone says, “It’s just one more episode,” they’re lying. You’ll be watching until you’re humming "Carry On Wayward Son" in your sleep.

The fullest Full Moon you’ll ever see 5/5 🌕

[butt0nzz66]

Why doesn’t Pen tell Colin right away

So after having some time to digest the season and what’s in store next I’m sure like a lot of you my thoughts turned to why is it that Pen holds back on telling Colin about her alter-ego and honestly my theory is something I can 100% empathise and relate to.

Before she gets in that carriage her whole life and prospects are ruined, let alone Colin barging in and giving her a right good seeing too. She would have thought it would be more likely to be abducted by aliens. Then with her only other close relationship it completely blew up her friendship and she lost that person seemingly forever in Eloise.

Now with that healthy dose of fear and shock it makes perfect sense to me that Pen’s mindset is: “I’m going to loose him when he finds out, I know he hates LW and after the things I’ve said and done as her it’s basically a given. So I’m going to make the most of every second to throw myself into this fantasy for as long as I possibly can before it all goes away and I’m alone again. Because there can literally be no other outcome”.

Now obviously not the healthiest coping mechanism, but with the lack of affection and acceptance from her own family I can’t blame her for a bit of denial. Something we have all been guilty of and I think is why she is such a brilliantly relatable character!

like don't get me wrong she has been no angel and I don’t agree with her way of doing things all the time, but she is also a young woman still figuring herself out and I find a nuanced character like this much more interesting than someone who does everything right, because it’s not exactly realistic….

Which is also why I think during their argument Pen will realise that she doesn’t want to give up LW it’s a part of who she is and she is damn good at it, while not perfect all the time. Which will allow her and Colin to have a real relationship and she needs to let him in and see the ugly side.

A truly beautiful love story because it’s honest and ugly.

Is the obsession still obsessing, yes, have I gone past the point of caring, yes, was I getting annoyed today that my co-worker wouldn’t stop calling me because I was clearly scrolling fan vids. Maybe.

Thank you once again to shonda and Netflix but mostly Luke and Nic for reviving my TV obsession, you’ll be getting my therapy bill 😇

[carlyyyyxbishhop]

Love me like I haven't changed // Shayne Topp // 3

Shayne's perspective because... why not?

three // Shayne

I was reluctant to go back the next week for a multitude of reasons. The first being that I didn’t actually think she’d be back and that I’d turn up and be alone at the beach. But I had prepared myself for this, this was something I was doing for myself not just to talk to a girl I had just met.

The second reason was that I was scared, and I wasn’t sure what of. It wasn’t that I was scared to talk to Kate again, even though I’d made a massive fool of myself on the beach last Saturday. I was scared that this would actually lead somewhere. I’d spent so long getting over my ex, so many hours in therapy talking over my insecurities and readying me for this exact moment. What if it actually happened, what if I met my next heartbreak?

And yet here I stood, at the top of the stairs where I had met the woman a week prior. I had been overthinking this moment all week, tossing up whether or not it was worth coming back. But here I was, there was no going back now.

I made my way down the concrete stairs toward the water, stopping about halfway. I looked back and forth along the shore and felt my stomach drop when the thought re-entered my mind. What if she doesn’t come this week? 

I swallowed my pride and sat down on the cool sand. It was significantly less windy this Saturday morning and there were actually people walking about. This brought me a strange sense of security.

I’m just a man enjoying his day off at the beach.

I was lost in my own mind, my thoughts going a million miles an hour, until a bag dropped down next to me.

“Hey,” She smiled down at me, shielding her eyes from the sun above us.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to shake the nerves that were slowly overtaking.

“I didn’t actually think you’d come,” She laughed. Oh god did she not want me here?

“I’m not one to break a promise,” I tried to play it cool.

“Hmmm, that I see,” She began,” Well… are you ready to have the life changing experience of swimming at the beach in winter?” She smiled which made me smile even wider. She didn’t wait for my response, pulling the same grey jumper over her head.

“Well?” She asked with a small smile. I realised that I had just been watching her undress… my cheeks couldn’t get any redder.

“Uhh,” I cleared my throat, ”Um, yeah. Sorry.” I stood with that and pulled my shirt over my head, dumping it on the ground beside me. I looked back at her, keeping my eyes on her face so I didn’t come across as the creep I had before.

“Okay, when I was younger I used to watch this TV show from, like, Australia. I don’t know why, don’t ask. But anyway, they were mermaids and they used to run into the ocean and dive in and it was magical,” I listened to her rambling, nodding as I did so.

“I think I’ve seen the show intro on the internet somewhere.”

“Perfect, so you understand the assignment,” She nodded her head in agreement.

“3… 2… 1… go!” And she was off, running towards the ocean. I was taken aback for a second, before following her with a laugh. I could hear her laughing ahead of me before she took heavy steps as she entered the water. Then she dove under. I followed her lead, I mean, how could I not?

It was quiet as I dove under the wave, until I came back up to the sound of her laughing hysterically. I laughed back.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, covering my mouth to try to hide just how much this girl could make me laugh.

“You just reenacted a TV show intro from the early 2000s with some random girl you met last week,” She spoke through her laugh. I watched as she began to swim out farther.

“I guess I did,” I said with a smile.

“Did it make you forget about how daunting diving into the freezing cold ocean was?” She stopped swimming and bobbed in the water facing me. 

“Yeah, I guess it did,” I laughed again. I watched as she dropped down under the water, only to come back up slicking her hair back behind her ears.

“Well Shayne, do you feel the cold right now?” She asked with a sly smile.

“Funny that, I don’t. I hope you haven’t been peeing this whole time to warm up the water around us,” After I said it, I raised my eyebrows waiting for a response. I don’t know what it was about her, but I felt comfortable enough in that moment to make such a stupid joke. 

She laughed and my heart skipped a beat.

“I drank a litre of water before I got here, just so you’d be warm during our swim,” She said through a laugh. I mirrored her smile.

“So without asking you the stereotypical questions one may ask when they meet someone new, how long have you lived in LA?” I changed the topic as we tread water. She smiled.

“Just over a month or so. I can tell you’ve been here a while,” She countered.

“Yeah, it’s been a good few years or so,” I looked back to her, but her focus was elsewhere. She was looking out at the horizon, watching the waves rise and fall ahead of us.

“Sometimes I wish I could just swim out into the ocean and keep going forever,” Her focus remained unwavered.

“I mean theoretically you could, but there’s a few factors that might stop you from swimming forever,” She looked over to me with a smile.

“Yeah I know… it’s just nice to think about sometimes,” I didn’t know what to counter that with. I didn’t expect her to open up the second time I met her, plus, I can’t predict what she’s going to say next.

“Well anyway, I have to get back. I have a work lunch for some dumbass guy at my office who got fired for screaming at a client over the phone,” I looked at her puzzled. What a strange way to change the conversation.

“That seems a bit harsh, maybe the client deserved it,” I rationalised as we slowly swam back to the shore.

“Well yeah, they did. But he also got caught trying to embezzle money from the guy so… I guess he needed to go,” I laughed slightly.

“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t laugh at some poor guy's misfortune,” I said as we reached the point where our feet touched the sand.

“No, laugh all you want. I called the guy a dumbass for a reason,” She smiled at me as we reached the dry sand. She reached for her pants as I reached for my shirt. I swung my shirt over my shoulder and picked up my phone and keys.

She finished tying her pants around her waist and began to tie her jumper around her shoulders, “So how did your first winter swim experience go?”

“Surprisingly well actually, it wasn’t nearly as daunting as I thought it would be.”

I watched as she picked up her bag and followed her lead as she headed toward the stairs.

“Well, this is a Saturday tradition. Rain, hail or shine you can find me here,” She looked over to me with a smile, “And you’re welcome anytime you’d like Shayne.”

I looked the other way as my cheeks flushed.

“I think I’ll be back,” I gained the slightest bit of confidence to look back over at her, she was already smiling at me.

“Great… well I’ll see you next week,” She flashed a finger-gun my way, “Sorry.. I don’t know why I just did that.” She laughed, I laughed in retaliation.

“See you then,” I pointed a finger-gun back at her with a small laugh.

With that we walked our separate ways, both hoping to see each other again.

[porkcutletbowl44]

Alright, this new chapter is currently my favorite, you made a wonderful job while writing it because I can't even describe how many emotions you made me feel😞💞.

I needed time to process the information that Simon left mama bevause he thought she was falling out of love with him even without a factual reasson. Jesus Christ this man needs therapy so bad😭. Even tho now we know why he choose Collen I'm still so confused at his behaviour. Idk this man makes me feel confused as fuck👎👎👎 but I need to admit that the way you portray him makes so much sense at the same time it's confusing. I really don't know how to express my statement correctly but I'm saying that the fact he left mama because he was scared she'd leave him makes sense considering his whole character's (especially in this fanfiction) trauma. He's a insecure person, and he's trying to hide that all behind his mask in an almost literalmente way, BUT IT STILL MAKES ME MAD BECAUSE HE COULD JUST HAVE TALKED ABOUT HIS FEELINGS💔. At this point I'm not even sure I'm confused at all, probably the best emotion that can describe what I'm feeling is frustration. And I loved that, it's just perfect to see how he struggles with his emotions and deal with them in a way that's destroying both himswlf and his family, how he just doesn't realize he needs to be honest with himself at first to start to try making things right with Fawn and mama. He knows he's being a horrible person to them, but it looks like he doesn't want to admit it even tho it's an essencial step to take if he really wants to have his old life back.

About Fawn, SHE'S TOO SWEET I JUST CAN'T READ ANY PART OF THIS FANFICTION SHE SHOWS UP WITHOUT SMILING😭❤. Also noticed the small parallel between mama and her, they both try to undestand and be calm at Simon despite all the bullshit he did with them, Idk if it was intentional or not but either way it made my heart melt because it's so sweet and heartbreaking that she's acting just like her mother when it comes to her father💔. I love her character so much, she reminds me of a little girl I used to take care of and it makes me feel so emotional. The fact that Simon is trying to make up with her for being negligent in the past months is so cute. I don't think he's necessarily a bad father, but he hasn't been acting like a good one either, and it's good to see him trying to make it up for it. When Fawn asked if he still loves mama made me cry too, it must be so odd for both to see him being arrogant and negligent and then acting all worried so suddenly, seeing her ask if they're going to live together like before is so heartbreaking💔. Gladly my "suffering" didn't least long since I was smiling ear to ear when he noticed his daughter was being bullied and went to confront the boy's father for encouraging it(we ignore that I cried a whole river when he fucked up everything with mama again afterwards😞). I'll be honest that my jaw fell to the floor when Simon was so mad at Keegan for being a reliable person for both his ex-wife and his daughter that he went to him JUST to get some satisfaction😭. He's so possessive even tho he's not even married to her anymore and even keeps refering to mama as his wife until Keegan corrects him. But he was really needing to have someone to say some truths to him like Keegan did, even I was tense while they're talking.

AND THW CLIFFHANGER, HELLO??? Maybe I'm overreacting a bit but I'm so worried about the person being alive😭😭😭. Already created multiple theories about who was shoot and why, and I just can't wait for the next weekend to come because I'm really excited to where you're leading this whole thing❤

Hiiiii, so wonderful to see you in my notifications!! I LOVE THIS SUBMISSION!!! 💛💛💛💛💛🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

First and foremost, Simons reasoning for feeling like he fell out of love is something I can 100% see him doing— pulling away out of fear, hurting so bad he gets angry, pushing everyone away because of his history with betrayal and losing people he cares about 💔 I never see this in fics!!! Abandonment issues, relationship OCD, leaving someone before they hurt you because of severe anxiety, it's just... It fits, in a way, y'know?

I kinda struggle navigating Simon with him figuring out his emotions and his course of action; because even though he's terrified of being abandoned, hurt, alone all over again he's SUPER protective of his lady and kid, that's his family, he can't just... Not looking out for them, whether it's up close or from afar.

But God I just can't help myself writing Simon with a fucking adorable daughter that ADORES him 🥹🤌🏻

(There would only be one person mama would be on a emergency contact list for, since it's way too soon for Keegan to consider putting her on his....Simon only has one person in his life he wants to know his private matters.......*hint hint wink wonk nudge nudge* 🤐🫥)

[nyxrev]

Tsukuyomi ツクヨミ

alt. 月読、月夜見: Japanese Moon God, implied to be male, not major deity but has some tales, notably when he killed a food goddess at a feast bc he was disgusted by how she created food from her body. His sister-wife Sun Goddess Amaterasu, horrified by his action, was so angry she exiled him from Heaven and refused to look at him again, thus is how day-night separated as Sun & Moon never meet.

With our snotty sleazy God on the Moon, I must wonder if Tsukuyomi, lit. The Moon God Org., is related, as they seem so eager to fetch Psykos, the “Third Eye” who can see the future, who we know from the swirly planetary mental imagery, has had prior contact with God.

Chapter I: Apollo

——*Welcome to Moon Craters Highway Radio for road rage therapy and drive escapades, what a lovely sunny noon out here! All's calm yet why do I smell the musty rot of evil afoot? Whatever could it be?

We hear your engines rumble with excitement, so take a seat on the passenger's side as we go full throttle on a wild ride through the hearth of our roads! —Only at the Hero Association HQ~*

Commentary brought to you by Apollo's poison pill (still stuck in his eye help me out)

Of course, damp stagnant underground spaces, with lack of ventilation n ever loom of darkness, are the perfect ground for unhygienic practices, such as the proliferation of (virulent) microbes…

Why is it always the smiley mask suit man

Rich. Mysterious. Creepy. What an atmosphere.

He comes to collect samples for experiment on behalf of his assoc., “for research purposes,” he says humbly, but not surprised to see him refer to live human like an object. Mad scientist? No, meticulously evil scientist.

God I can smell his perfume two lots away and it reeks of evil, ill omen.

Which brand d'you bet the Moon agents wear? I throw Hugo as an option. Strong and obnoxious

Notice how a mere agent exudes enough latent, passive psychic energy for Fubuki to sense it? And she seems to feel it quite strongly. I expect him to be decently troublesome.

Oops… it would be all for naught if the precious brain gets damaged, now, wouldn't it… because as the rumoured “Third Eye” we heard so much about, the secret to future vision also lies here…he says, as cradles her head gently, coldly, with -out an ounce of affection, only ambition for an excellent sample acquired for nefarious deeds.

“Would you like to torture her?” “No need,” he replies, brief but courteous enough.

Now I'm not sure what he did to Psykos there, it looks like a psychic gunshot or taser, but clearly all they care about's her brain and what it holds. They may not torture her (doubt they wouldn't), but they would only keep her sane/alive enough to extract momentous pieces for their research.

ラボで開頭して隅々まで調べます

隅々まで sumizumi made (reduplicative): lit. to the end of every corner, every nook and cranny, all the ins and outs

調べる: to investigate, examine, check, look into

“We'll perform a craniotomy back at the lab to explore every nook and cranny”

No need for torture, they'll do much worse.

His way of speech makes my skeleton want to crawl out of my flesh.

Absolutely Unhinged.

I can't tell what emotion he has capacity for, but mb he's so surprised his pupils went o_o; or mb even it's his spark of idea expression to bait and catch Fubuki too. He has no eyebrows, must've exchanged them for maximum zappy. N why he look like a Demon Slayer chara except deflated.

Notice how exec went “Oi guards, can't you see our generous Mr. Sponsor is…” at Fubuki group, straight from diplomatic, an almost obsequious customer service voice* to an imperative voice of displeased authority.

*eg. prior scene when exec welcomed him with: お待ち申し���げておりました｡どうぞこちらへ｡ “We've expected you. Please, this way.” It's hard to explain but they used respectful language for every part there. It's humble deferential speech, expected formality, but the fact they're polite to an outsider w data (next) yet irritated by Fubuki and only scared when Tatsumaki comes… they know their shady deals can't be exposed.

Now as Tatsumaki cracks down the door roof to your crimes, fearsome as a tornado can be, I fell for their act like a diet pill down a beauty's tea.

“Don't interfere, you outsider!!” And she makes modern art out of our Moon agent.

Fear not, he is sturdy. And smart enough to knock out unneeded eyes of execs and security.

Don't we all love an ambidextrous multitasker?

“How convenient. I'll make you sisters souvenir too.” An excellent addition, if only you could get your hands on them so easily as you wish.

She yeet him so hard he lost his coat, or he took it off bc he activated Serious Solar Storm. Well, the starry Cosmic Garou shirt looks dapper but better not just toss your coat on the ground at a rival's house if it has your valuables.

His tie has a U crescent idk the specific term for but if I search without scientific names is weird. Prefer scientific detail til I can sort out the lores. Apparently, the moon is related to clairvoyance. Believe what you will but I feel Moon Readers of Tsukuyomi seek out prophecy not to be sought.

Maybe moon phases on their ties correspond to rank and power.He's just a henchman after all. If agents have phases, mb the boss has full moon. Mb also means “power” is completed, but I feel it is dangerous to reach completed power.

When we saw God crawl out of his crusty moon den, the moon was lit on top ◠ an angle difficult & unnatural from earth. If ◡ crescent is humans, opposite you reach God, “ascended” as Fubuki said. Except it's NOT somewhere to ascend. We already saw why not to connect with God.

So break my tangent, let's get back on track.

As his aura crackles with flames, our agent pats off dust and engages Tatsumaki. Heh, not bad… She looks down at him, literally and figuratively, a little lab rat should be no big deal for her, but,

Fubuki comments, “He's strong.” Perhaps not unmanageable, but def stronger than expected.

Sure enough, he starts off strong.

Fubuki may not be the strongest esper by sheer power output-wise, but she is not imperceptive. Remember when Gearsper's energy output was so strong she almost mistook it for her sister? When she senses power, she really senses it. So I'd trust her judgement of its strength at least.

Oof—the gust, the gales, what sandy breeze on our sails. Guess he can hold his own, for now.

Let's take a moment to appreciate Murata's flex of artistic muscles before moon agent tires out.

“…I may be at a slight disadvantage…” Slight??Pathetic, Tatsumaki ridicules.

Your starry scars look about to burst, heed your limit, man. You'll get dust in your eyes- oh oops, I'll shut it, I'm an ill omen. Bite my tongue Bide my time Baby I'm not even here

“Poor Guinea Pig”

“Hmph, you needn't belittle me so, you know…” I do wonder if you can still keep on your air of condescension if you know what I'm about to do.

Did she really just call him a “Pitiful Marmot”?

モルモット: transliteration - marmot.

I thought it strange for marmot to mean guinea pig as an experiment animal like an equivalent of lab rat, so I dug round, turns out it's historical language confusion, not much we can do about it now. What's the unfortunate chosen animal of your language(s)?

Tbh, I'd add Pitiful Marmot to my vocabulary, for most affectionate purposes, of course.

It looks like she hit the nail on the head cuz her slight hurt the artificial esper's pride enough to set off the next step of Apollo's mission.

Now y'all done it. He broke the capsule! sleepy…

No! You Fool. Afoollo Why you gotta expose me like that. Why'd you out your strategy?! You had Data yet can't grasp her ability??! Thought you could outsmart and overpower her? Fool. You just jeopardized your precious junior's effort and lost your trump card. Well, I don't know how precious he is to you but you should prolly cherish him a little for he's considerate enough to bail you out of your stupid mistakes and drive you home with a bloody concussion.

“Natural Espers are a defective species. Perish.”

Brother your logic is defective. If natural espers didn't exist how can artificial ones like you ever exist hah? You even need existent natural ones alive to create your artificial comrades.

I must ask though, what did he mean with they “lack balance and harmony”? Did he mean they rely on psychic power so much they're physically weak??

His face just gets creepier. Then he pulls a stunt and I wonder if Tatsumaki rly had a hard time or just let him get the illusion of victory to locate the pill. —*More on Apollo's Mission next post.

Notes:

[lesbietron]

just finished season 3 of the L word here are my unwanted and unasked thoughts so far.

first of all. i like pretty much all of the main characters, i don’t really fw jenny but i really liked her in season 2 but not in this season.

i miss marina. she added something to the group’s dynamic that has been missing ever since her character left the show.

dana DANA!!!! dannnnaaa <3. my beloved !! i will miss u. it’s such a shame that her character had to go like that and just when her story got interesting. wish she had more time with us.

alice is fucking awesome and so unhinged in the best way possible she adds so much to the show. i love how they bully her for being bi is so funny (long live bi women!!!)

carmen my love.

helena is an interesting character. she improved a lot this season. she is gorgeous and knows what she wants from people and i love that about her because she is sure of herself and sure of what she wants from others (it’s not always a good thing but i think it’s a good skill? to have)

shane. i have a whole analysis on her i could write essays about her all day. she is so caring and it makes sense because of her really lonely childhood and all her family past. so obviously she cares for her friends deeply and probably my favorite quality of her is how little judgmental she is. she embraces pretty much everyone and i love that about her. she, pretty much, lives on by live and let live. want her character to keep on shining and evolving.

honorable mention to lara because she is so freaking gorgeous. i drool over her whenever she is on screen like woah!! so pretty!!!!!!!!

kit is the bestest. i have loved every second of her and i wish for her character to keep on getting better and stronger.

bette and tina are Something else. as individuals i like them a lot. they are determined women, with beautiful hearts. they are an inspiration on their own but together they r unhinged.. in a bad way. i don’t know if they are going to end up together but if they are i wish for their characters to 👏 go 👏 to 👏 therapy 👏 again and like for real!!

and lastly. max. i’m so sorry the way he was treated and questioned.. mocked..and i wish him better for next season.

overall i’m enjoying the show. is not perfect and the characters are flawed and insane and horny and idc let’s see where they heading to next season.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

I cant remember if i already sent in an ask, but i dont know what to do. Seven months ago, my dad relapsed back into his alcoholism. One night he got drunk, left my mom in an empty parking lot where my brother and I had to pick her up, and when we got home he had trashed all her things and threw her stuff out onto the front steps. It isn't the first time he's done this, my whole child it's all I can really remember him doing, but for awhile things were okay. Once he saw us though, he was an animal. He attacked my brother and they fought and we all had to pin my dad down while he screamed he'd kill us all. Once we thought it was okay to let him up, he lunged for my mom and my brother took the hit and they fought again. I had to call his brother, my uncle, to try and reason or stop him.

He nearly starts fighting my uncle, breathing heavily and his eyes just wild. I remember staring him dead in the face while he threatened he'd put a 40 in our skulls and kill us. That night we grabbed what we could and slept at my uncle's. The next morning, he felt guilty and apologized repeatedly but I blocked his number and refused to speak or see him. I still live at home though, meaning I'm still in a way in contact with him.

I'm done. I can't take it anymore, and what's worse is I'm alone in this decision. My dad is by no means a perfect person, I'm not either, nobody is. But this was too much and I've made my choice. My mother keeps trying to convince me to heal and accept my dad because he's an addict and given different circumstances, if I had an addiction or eating disorder, they wouldn't just abandon me right? But it's not the same, it really isn't.

I do have an eating disorder, I have CPTSD, I'm in pain and have been for a long time but I handle it and it's not something I let them see or know. What's his excuse. He's been abusive, manipulative, vile, and I can't forgive him.

I guess recently my dad had a small heart attack, and who knows maybe he'll die soon. But I don't feel anything about it. There's no anger, no sadness, no rage, just nothing. Maybe I'm in shutdown. Regardless, I'm not sure what's right anymore. I'm going to be saving up to move out, and if I don't have enough then I'll live in my car. He can kick me out for all I care. I can't stay anymore, not here.

Rent is insane where I live, I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to save or if I'll even achieve this goal, but I need to do something. Everyday gets worse and I can't keep waiting for another bomb to go off, or for my mother to comfort me by saying "the bomb is okay, accept it." She asked me to go a therapy session with her you know, mother daughter therapy. At first I agreed but after what she said today, she can forget it. Even after all this time, she doesn't understand. She never will.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through. There is absolutely no obligation to forgive him. It's reasonable to resent him even if his behavior is related to substance abuse or whatever other excuse is given. Even if someone adequately takes accountability for their actions (which it sounds like he doesn't) you still don't have to forgive them, and it doesn't mean you aren't allowed to still feel hurt. It almost sounds like your mom is an enabler. You've seen a long pattern of violent, threatening, and hurtful behavior from your father, and so it makes sense why it's so hard to be convinced that he's something better. It's okay to not worry or even grieve if your dad passes away, especially in context. Do consider that if these violent episodes continue, it may be necessary to call the authorities, though it can definitely be easier said than done.

Although I completely understand your reasons for not wanting to go to therapy with your mom, being able to speak with a therapist could potentially help you a lot in processing these experiences and your feelings surrounding them, regardless of whether or not your mom benefits from it. It could be an opportunity to meet with that therapist individually as well, and they may be able to see the situation for what it truly is.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions feel free to add on, otherwise I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[theoldaeroplane]

can't figure out if my dreams, which usually feature at least one of my parents and more recently, my toxic former boss who made me feel like I was living with my parents again, are purely stress related or if there's something else happening there

general life rambling below the cut

been reading How To Do the Work as part of my ongoing attempt to heal from my childhood. Doing the journaling exercises and everything. My therapist also asked me to spend the next two weeks observing the language I use in my internal narratives about myself so we can talk about them at our next session. So far I'm noticing that I tend to frame myself as downtrodden and often without power.

I've been reading a lot about somatic therapy. I didn't finish The Body Keeps the Score due to life getting in the way, but it's a very powerful book and I think it probably started this line of inquiry. I'm a little skeptical about how scientific a number of the related things I've read are, such as trauma release exercises and the idea that the psoas muscle holds trauma, but I think there's something to the idea. I've been making a conscious effort to keep my shoulders loose and back, instead of tight and hunched forward. I'm very worried about falling into another hole of people who claim to have all the answers. I have great difficulty trusting my own intuition and seek out approval or reinforcement for almost everything I do. (Even writing this journal on a public forum feels like a result of that.)

I actually tried the trauma release exercises on Monday, and on Wednesday I had a very exaggerated anxiety attack for no reason I could pinpoint. It lasted over three hours and persisted through a nap, which hasn't happened before. I have no idea if the two are related, but---I did notice myself trembling slightly during the attack. That's not happened before either. Not sure if it's some kind of subconscious attempt at following the idea behind TRE or not, but I guess it probably doesn't really matter.

I also went ahead and signed up for a yoga session next week, with an instructor listed as being aware of how to work with trauma survivors. It's another Thing I have to do, in terms of not being able to catch my breath, but I want to at least try it and see how I feel afterwards.

For as much of a less than perfect fit my new job is, I really like my new boss. He's got a good sense of humor and he's very patient, and doesn't make me feel like I'm stupid when I make a mistake. I think I'm only now realizing how much damage my last boss did in terms of opening old wounds.

Tomorrow I have my volunteer work and a friend's dance recital, plus a ttrpg/hangout session, but tonight I'm just going to come home right at 5 and peace out with Zelda and an edible. (I do this almost every night, to be fair, but I didn't really get home until at least 7pm this week).

I've been very worried about money, probably too much. I'm not quite making a livable wage, but cost of living here is very low, and I know for a fact I can make reasonably consistent extra money with the yiff side hustle. (I shouldn't have to rely on that to get by when I'm also working full time, but you know how it goes.) My main expenses outside of the usual are therapy and animals. Therapy sessions are going to start costing me $75 a pop. Jojo needs a checkup, and she's going to need dental surgery soon, so a good chunk of my money is going towards saving for that. I also need to get shirts for work as there's a dress code I've technically been violating for two months. (This is another area where my boss has been very cool.)

The house is a nightmare. The carpet is a dog piss swamp, due to my first month at work resulting in me sleeping 90% of the time, but I have other things I need to buy before a carpet cleaner rental can happen. I think I'm waiting, too, for next week before I do any cleaning---I'm surrendering my pigeon Chanticleer back to the shelter then and I'll be able to really move things around and clean them up. I'm fond of the little dude, but we're just not a match for each other.

I have so much more I could write, but I need to get ready for work. Wish me luck.

[lostandfoundbook]

Chapter 15

Read it on AO3

Read it on Wattpad

The two of them said their goodbye's to Benji before making their way out of the apartment. The day was still young, and there was so much to do. Alexandria could feel all the memories brimming with threats to expose themselves to her, a feeling she hadn't felt in quite a long time.

Nostalgia. She missed this part of town. She was staring down all the grassy lawns as she hopped into the car and shut the door tight behind her. It was a quaint little piece of property that Benji had inherited, and it was nothing in comparison to Oliver's theatre. 

Both were places she lived as she worked, but one of the two she was more fond of. She couldn't help but favor Benji's little theatre over Oliver's massive one. There was something so home-y about her best friends place.  For a short period of her life, she continued to grow up there and thrive.

Getting to see it again almost felt like a dream. Sitting with the two boys by her side sipped away at her coffee. It really didn't energize her. Instead it brought her a sense of tranquility that just washed away at whatever fears or anxieties she previously had. It was a good cup of coffee. It tasted like home. 

She lugged the duffel bag off of her shoulder and unzipped it, reaching back in for the journal. She pulled a pencil out of the bag and flipped to a free page on the book. She started writing down about what happened, and her experience at Benji's. She wrote about Everette a bit too, but not too much. Just enough to reference in her call out post. 

She tilted her head to the side as she wrote. Oliver went on to pop his own car door and hop in, side eyeing her before pressing the keys into the ignition. "What are you working on?" He eventually said as they started to pull away from the theatre. Away from home. "Just journaling." she replied.

"I've heard that's really good for you. It's supposed to help you work through a lot of things" Everette added on. It was true. She had taken it up in her high school years when a school counselor had told her it was a good idea. They never could afford therapy, and it's left Alex with dozens of lost journals full of her thoughts throughout the years, with zero clue as to where those could've gone.

"Yeah. I really like being able to just talk through my feelings."

The car ride home was quiet aside from the radio quietly playing the top 2010 hits. It was a good year for music, Alex thought towards herself. She leaned her head back in the car and set her journal down. "Do you think the call out post against Everette is a good idea? I haven't talked to my PR team about it and I don't think they're going to approve." 

Oliver shot her a glance. "You're asking if I approve of it?"

Alex grimaced with her lips. It had come off a bit odd. "Yes, I think that's what I'm asking."

The car slowly came to a halt as they stopped at a stop sign, and turned to look towards her. "I'll always support the things you want to to. I don't think it's a bad idea, I just think the timing needs to be perfect or else it might not have the same effect."

The girl searched around the car for something to stare at. "You're right. I want to put it out this week, or next week by the latest so that when the song comes out, people have the full context."

He nodded. "That's a good idea. I think people having the full context matters. You don't want them to associate it with any other ex you've had."

The car began to pull away again.

"Right, exactly." Alex shoved one of her legs up onto the dashboard and felt the AC blowing on her, slightly ruffling her hair. It was extremely frizzy today, and she figured it had to do with the increasing temperatures. Summer was quickly making it's way around the corner and Alex wasn't sure how she was going to cope with the heat this year.

Her thoughts were broken short by Oliver's voice ringing out. "What do you think about me hosting a gala?" Alex paused. "What about it? You do them yearly. It's about that time."

A small sound left Oliver's mouth that was reminiscent of a laugh. "No, I mean, what do you think about it?"

Another pause. She let the silence sit comfortably. Was she supposed to have an opinion on this? "It seems like a good idea. I've always wanted to go to one." Oliver perked up at this. "Great! I want to do one this month before we start putting on Big Feelings, that original musical we're doing, and I was thinking maybe we could go together. I usually take Avery."

The non-question weighed in the air. Did she want to go to a gala with him, where they would be openly photographed together? Did she want to deal with the press and rumor train that came with it? She already knew it was coasting down that track ever since the red carpet event. People noticed the way they looked at each other, and they remembered the photos of her sitting in the booth with Oliver.

Now, they had the ice skating photos to include with it. Some people were vehemently against the idea of Alex dating Oliver, which, was a good thing because she didn't intend to date him. Does she want to add fuel to the fire? She considered how easy it was to wash out Everette's bad press just by going out with a friend like this.

"I think I'll go. It sounds fun, and I think it'd be great for my career."

Oliver smiled towards her as the car came to another stop, this time because of traffic. "What else do you want to do with your career?" he asked her. "Oh, so many thing. I want to make visualizers and music videos, and I have this EP idea planned out that's slowly turning into an album... I want to do more press tours. More talking, and getting involved with my fanbase."

Oliver nodded his head. "And have you ever thought of working for me, like, in a serious manner? I'd take on your PR in a heartbeat."

It was an exciting offer. Alex wasn't particularly fond of her current management. Greg was great at his job, but he already admitted that there's not much he can do in regards to Everette. It seems Oliver can. 

"I hadn't really thought about it before. It's something I'd consider."

She didn't have the same connection with her old PR team like she does to the Haven Industries. Alex trusted Avery and Oliver, meanwhile Greg was just some guy who was related to her career path with Everette. Why not consider letting Oliver give it a shot?

"You'd also want to read your contract, which you're going to want to get a copy of. If I need to, I can buy out your contract. It'd be worth it in the long haul."

In the long haul? Alex truly didn't consider her future much. As a kid, she didn't even expect to make it past 18. Now, she's shocked she's still alive. Planning for the future was something she never really learned how to do, and it seemed Oliver did it so easily, even with other people.

Alex drew her bottom lip between her teeth before speaking out, "You know, there were a lot of rumors about you and I before recently?" Oliver shot her a side glance. "Oh?"

"They said you wanted to use me to better your image." Alex replied and Oliver let out a snort. "You can't possibly believe that's why I'm offering this?"

A small exhale of breath left her mouth, almost a laugh but not quite. "Of course not. I think it's a silly rumor because I've got a lot of bad publicity around my name. If anything, I would be the one using you." 

Traffic began to let up a bit between Alex's declaration, leaving Oliver focusing on trying to not get hit. "You know, this is why I never drive?" He added in while cruising past slow-moving people in the left lane. "This is supposed to be a fast lane, people!"

Alex smiled. "You yell at the road. What happens if people hear you and get out of their car?"

He smirked in response. "Yeah, right. They're gonna get through the armored car. I'd like to see them try." He waved his hands around to emphasize his point. 

The lanes were slowly opening up and the freeway came out of its stand still, with a few cars sitting off to the side. A car accident that people were slowly driving past. This was the culprit of the jam they had just been apart of. "How lovely." Oliver spoke out as they passed.

"People don't know how to drive in New York. They're all used to walking. They act like driving is some sort of video game and get into all these crashes"

She stopped to think about it, life as a video game, that is. It bordered on simulation theories, which Alex totally believed to a certain extent. Life was so confusing and complicated, and she had somehow found her way to the top. How'd that even happen?

"I think you're right about the walking part. People just don't know how to drive." 

The small talk flowed naturally as they filled up the cars small space with chatter and conversation. Topics came naturally towards them at this point, and there was no awkwardness between the two.

"I love the city, still." Alex spoke out while staring at the city as they re-entered their side of town. "It's so beautiful."

Oliver grunted. "It's a city, I guess. I'm so used to it." There was no question about it, Oliver viewed this city as something he had already conquered. He'd been down every avenue and walked every path there as to walk in this city. There was no need to revisit the places he had already been. 

"It's beautiful, though. The way every corner tells a new story? It's amazing. I could get lost in it forever."

He looked over and watched as the girl stared out of the car window at the vast landscape of artificially re-created nature scenes along all the sides of the buildings. The terf grass there to mimic the lush greenery you see back at Benji's side of town. The trees are much sparser here too, meaning it was much hotter over here. 

Alex reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She slipped through her contacts list and finally landed on Greg. She shot him a text that said "We need to talk" and quickly backed out of there. She didn't want to see if his green text bubble shot back at her, giving her an answer or reply. She scrolled back over towards Benji's contact and started writing him a message.

"Thank you for letting me bring Oliver. I know you two don't get along, and I doubt I'll ever get the full story out of either of you, but I'm glad you can put aside your differences for me. It was a really insightful day."

She smiled and hit send. She looked up from her phone and continued to city-watch the way she was used to doing while driving. She looked down when her phone pinged off another message from an unknown number.

"Stop ignoring me, you bitch!"

It was likely Everette. She swiped the notification away and shoved the phone back into her pocket. "Who was that?" Oliver questioned out as they slowly pulled up on the hotel parking lot. 

"Just Everette, I think."  Alex could as an annoyed look appeared on Oliver's face. "He needs to leave you alone." He returned as he parked. "Like, seriously. You might have to get a restraining order against him or something."

The girl looked up at the man as she reached for her bag. "You think? I figured, there's not many places he can get access to me. He's going to have to give it up eventually, right?" She was tired of the whole situation. She just wanted to be left along to write her music in peace. Perform theatre without being judged. Ice skate with whomever she pleased. 

She pulled the bag around her shoulder before opening her car door. "I don't know, Alex. He could be really dangerous. You don't know him."

She slid out of the car and watched as Oliver did the same. "I'll consider getting a restraining order if it'll make you happier, but I think I'll be fine without it." The two made eye contact over the hood of the beamer. It was soft and solemn, a small moment of agreement. Alex would contact the police and see what she could do.

She dropped the eye contact. "Also, I think I do want you to run my management. You know, if that's something you can do." She started walking up to the garage area that Oliver had designated for just him, right up close to the hotels entrance. "I can do that, for sure. You'd need what? Management, PR, stylists, maybe even an assistant one day?"

She let out a small snort. "Slow your roll. I think I know somebody who can do make up for me, and you and Avery are practically my stylists already. You run the management side, and I don't know who controls PR. So it's not a lot of things. I've pretty much got all of them covered, I think." 

She and Oliver carted their way through the revolving doors and into the building, being met with the beautiful scenery of white walls with gold trims, big open windows that dared you to gaze through them all day, and a big open walk way through the foyer. She could see the receptionist desks, and the way the walls of the entrance opened up past a certain height. 

All of this spawned a new memory in her brain. One of her sitting in a harness, dangling in the air. She stopped and shook her head a bit. When was that? Where was that? Was that here? Alex didn't remember this memory, yet it stood out clearly in her head. She stopped walking and Oliver turned to give her a look of confusion.

"I think I remember breaking into the hotel" she said out.

* * *

Alex was sat in her bedroom with Avery, Oliver, and her journals laid out in front of them all. "So, what exactly am I here for, again?" The ginger girl spoke up, with a shy look on her face. "You remember things about me that I don't, and I can't gather many other people. I could try to invite Brandon, but he'd be more confused than he would be able to understand any what I'm saying. You two get it."

Avery looked over towards Oliver who gave her a simple nod. "Alright. What do you need?"

Alex sighed and sat down. They were all surrounded the couches that made paralleled each other in the middle of the bedroom, with the TV sat out behind them on a handing stand. It was her room. She had made it lived in, and she was familiar with it.

"I want to expose Everette. I remember why we were breaking in. And I remember a lot of other stuff, too. I want to write this big expose, but I don't have the full time line down. I want to clear it up, and get it posted tonight. The song about him comes out in a week and a half, and I think it's been long enough."

Avery nodded in approval and listen with a sense of understanding. Alex didn't know how much she knew about Everette, or how much Oliver had told her. She figured he told her a lot, consider she was one of his closest friends and assistants. She knew more about him than Alex did, and she was extremely aware of that fact. Avery held information about Oliver, while both of them held information about Alex. It was a tricky situation.

"I hate to repeat myself, but what am I supposed to do in this situation? I don't exactly remember much.."

Oliver turned towards her. "She's getting a restraining order against Everette." Avery's eyes widened and she turned towards Alex, who sat there nodded in agreement. "Really?"

"Yes. He wont stop messaging me and I've made it clear that I don't want him to talk to me anymore. He said he wanted to talk in person, and I have really really bad vibes about that. It's not gonna happen. We're through, and if he can't get that message, I'll get the police involved."

Oliver turned back towards Alex. "Not to mention, he tried to break into the red carpet event when he wasn't invited. None of us know how he figured out the location."

Alex shrugged. "That ones not too difficult. I could've figured it out if I were still living with him. Against you, I mean. It wouldn't be hard to find." Oliver sighed and knitted his brows. "But he was actively seeking it out. That's my point. He's trying to find you in person. That's not good."

Alex shook her head and raised her brows. "I know! I'm just saying, It wasn't the most evident example of stalking. We don't even know if the order will be approved. That's why I just want to focus at the information at hand. Everette used to abuse me, and I have lots of proof of that. I want to post it tonight. It wont be hard." 

Avery raised her head. "I could write out the timeline for you.." She meekly spoke, as if she didn't dare cross the boundaries between the two. There was a line drawn in the sand between her and Alex and she wasn't going to be the one to leap across. "Really?!" Alex replied in an excited manner. 

Oliver pipped in "Yeah! You said you've got it all written out, she can go based off of your notes and just write it as if she were you."

Alex frowned. "Well, you can write it, but I'm gonna change a few things in it to make sure it sounds like me. I want people to take this seriously." Oliver eyed Avery up. "You good to do it?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I can do it. Where's the laptop?"

"Woah, right now, right now?" Alex called out, standing up and headed towards her bed. "Yeah, I have nothing else to work on!"

Alex retrieved the laptop off of her bed and Oliver frowned. "Didn't I ask you to write up multiple documents for me?" She smiled coyly. "I already did them. I'm a fast typer."

The blonde girl handed the laptop off to the ginger girl and sat back down on the couch. "The notes are all here. Everything's in chronological order and all the photos to reference are in the hard drive, labeled by dates and referenced by types of abuse."

"You would make a good lawyer" Oliver said, smiling. "Yeah, maybe in another life. My sister's more the one to be the lawyer kind" She said and wiped her palms across the pant legs of her jeans. Her palms were sweaty. She was nervous. She had no clue how people were going to receive the news of Everette. 

Would they be happy that she was no longer dating him? Would people be upset that she's using her voice so proudly? What exactly was going to happen, and who was going to pick this story up? Alex could feel the anxiety in the pit of her stomach, and remembered some book she read once.

'Anxiety is a stimulus without a source'

She had a source, she thought. Everette was the root of all her worries. Without him, she would be free. A piece of her wished he would just die. Or maybe be arrested. One of the two. Whichever got him out of her life as quick as possible. Maybe he could move halfway across the country and she'd never have to see him again. That would facilitate him forgetting about her first, though. That would be a long shot.

Jail. Or death. 

"We can get people to pick up this story in the news" Oliver spoke up as he watched Avery work. She had gotten the word document up and was referencing some pretty heinous bruises when Alex stood up and walked into the bathroom. She stopped and stared at herself in the mirror.

She looked more familiar, like she could recognize the person she was looking at. Over the past couple of months of staying at the hotel, Alex felt unrecognizable. Like she was living in a shell of who she was supposed to be. Now she feels like she'd broken whatever mold she was thrusted into and was butterflying her way out of the cocoon. 

She started at the white t-shirt she had thrown over her body this morning. Some band t-shirt for somebody she didn't recognize it. She didn't own it. None of these clothes belonged to her, and yet she was endowed with an accumulation of clothing from the hotel. From Oliver. She tried to remember that. 

Oliver provided this all for her. She turned the sink on and splashed cold water onto her face. She didn't wear make up often, so this was no issue for her. She wiped her face off with a towel, and walked back out of the bathroom.

"You okay?" Oliver questioned as she sat back down. "I'm fine. Just tired." She lied. She was exhausted. Tired wasn't enough of a word for it. She felt like the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders and all she had to do was remember everything to keep the pressure off her back. Without that, the world would come barreling down and crush her clean off the map. 

"How are you doing, Avery?" 

"I'm almost done." She replied, looking up from the keys she was previously spent tapping away on. "Really? Already?" Alex queried 

"Yup! You'll just need to change what you want to change, add the photos, and you can post it."

Alex sighed. She could feel the world lift just a bit higher on her back. Just a little bit of pressure releasing. She clamped her hands together and felt around her wrists. They were thin. She hadn't been eating as often as she should've been. There wasn't time. She hadn't been drinking enough water, either.

Just focusing on her career, theatre, and exposing Everette. She stared down at the floor. "....And... done!" Avery said, and flipped the computer around to face Alex. She stared back at the masterpiece placed in her lap.

"Is there anything else you need from me?" She added on. "No, this is perfect, thank you!" Avery smiled back towards Alex and tilted her head. "Anything for you. I'm always here... but... not literally. I have to go. I'll check up on you later, okay?"

Alex looked her in the eyes and nodded. The ginger girl stood up and meandered her way up to the door, unlatching it, and making her way out. Oliver scooted over to be sitting in the middle of the couch instead of off to the side, sharing it with somebody else. He made it his. 

"So, what do you need to change?" He asked out, kicking his feet up onto the table to rest them. Alex pulled the laptop onto her lap and began rearranging the wording. "Not much. Just need to change some things here or there."

Oliver started to beam at her. "What?"

"You just look so different sat over a laptop than you do sat over a mic."

Alex could feel her cheeks go red. "Well, it's a much different process, isn't it? Writing versus recording? I have to give my all when I'm recording."

Oliver's lips formed an amused line. "And you don't have to give your all for this?"

Alex looked up at him and shook her head. "No. Avery's done most of the work for me. I'm really just editing it."

He nodded in return. "I get it. Hey, I'll swing back around later, yeah?" He started to stand up and pointed towards the door with his thumbs. "Go" She replied, a smile spreading across her own lips. He was a busy man. He had a whole hotel to run. He couldn't partake in her silly games of retribution today, and that was fine by her. 

He made his own way out of the hotel suite, leaving Alex to her lonesome. She looked over the wording a bit more before making her final edits. She copied and pasted it and went onto her photo software to compile all the photos together. She put them side by side in a collage so that it would all fit, because most social media sites had a limit on how many photos you could include.

Alex had a lot of photos, and videos, and journal entries. She had so much. So much evidence. She put as much of it as she could into four slides for Twitter, and ten slides for Instagram. She added text on the screen of the Instagram slides to explain what was happening, because not everyone read long captions. She took a deep breath in and hit 'Post' on all of the websites before closing down her computer. 

[i-jxta]

April 4, 2024 | 1027PM

Slowly but surely, I am losing my mind.

I cannot cope.

I've been in and out of therapy since I was 16 and I think I've cried about 3 times, including today. I've been seeing my current therapist for about 2-3 years? Two years ago I was diagnosed with BPD and today I was diagnosed with OCD. I usually start my session by doing some mindfulness. I take some deep breaths in and out for like 5 min and then I start to talk. Today, I started crying in the middle of mindfulness. I couldn't take it anymore. I am in so much pain. I can't stop thinking.

In 2011 when I was 10, I was convinced that the world was going to end in 2012. It brought me so much anxiety. I had so much left to do and see. So I wore this random necklace every day with a picture of baby Jesus on it. I decided that as long as I kept this necklace on, the world wouldn't end. If I took off the necklace then bad things would happen. Along with wearing the necklace, I also had to pray every single night and say the same prayer over and over again until I fell asleep. My mom thought it was cute! All the praying I was doing. Not knowing that I was actually filled with dread and carrying the fate of the world on my little 10-year-old shoulders. Aside from the world ending in 2012, I had to say goodnight to my mom every night, in case she died in her sleep. If I didn't say goodnight, then I'd worry that when she died I'd be the reason why. It doesn't make sense, but it makes sense to someone like me. This is a way for me to ease my overwhelming anxiety. The world didn't end and my mom didn't die, so my rituals are working.

In 2019, after something traumatizing happened again. I convinced myself for almost seven months that I was pregnant. I had no symptoms, so naturally, I assumed I was having a cryptic pregnancy. I was breaking down every few days thinking about it. Nobody could convince me I wasn't carrying a child inside of me. I was crying, cutting, praying, and panicking every. single. day. I was googling symptoms all day. One day I was watching a documentary, completely unrelated to pregnancy. and the woman in the documentary said "Oh yea I had a cryptic pregnancy" and I remember so vividly how badly I spiraled after that. Had that been a sign from the universe? Affirming my fears? Telling me "Yes, you are having a cryptic pregnancy". One day, my girlfriend at the time set up an appointment for me at this women's clinic. I went to take a test and they told me "You're not pregnant". And that was the end of that. The kind woman offered me so many resources for my situation. I even set up an appointment to go to some group therapy, but I never showed up. I finally fed my brain the reassurance it needed "You're not pregnant". That's the thing with OCD though. No thought or action is enough to end the cycle. It will continue to seek reassurance and will continue to destroy you until it gets its next dose of reassurance. Once I am done fixating on one thing I move on to the next thing. Something always has to be wrong, my life cannot possibly be perfect for a moment. I started thinking about death a lot more. The possibility of dying and the possibility of the people I love the most dying.

I know this is out of order but before 2019. I smoked a lot of weed carts. I was getting mad fucking high. I have never felt so close to death while I was off those carts. I think I greened out a lot more than I ever had a relaxing high. I kept getting high though because it felt good. I don't know if it's even possible to describe what it is like to be ridiculously high off a cart. This was back when carts were a new-ish thing. I was smoking these without knowing what was in them. I've smoked regular weed and most of the time I have the same reaction to it. The worst part of these highs was how fast my heart would beat. I was always convinced I was having a heart attack. That I was going to drop dead at any moment and I couldn't stop it. It'd be because of my own stupid choice. My mom's voice would ring through my ears, telling me I'm an idiot, and that I can't take care of myself. Maybe she was right? Here I am repeatedly doing the same drug that made me feel like I was just barely hanging on to life.

Ever since then, I've been paranoid about death. It bothers me because it will happen. There is no "avoiding" it. Some day, everyone I know, including me will die. I can't cope with that. It reduces me to tears on the daily. It makes me feel such a primal fear. I constantly worry about the future, never living in the present. I get so anxious I start to feel physical symptoms, like heart palpitations. And guess what! when I feel those I get anxious about having a heart attack and dying. What other ways can I die? My newest fixation is, as I type this, that I am actually developing bone marrow cancer. Any symptoms? Yes, my knee hurts and earlier the joint that connects my femur and pelvis hurt. But that's about it. I've already cried about it 3 times today. I can't stop thinking about it. I've already imagined being on my deathbed and saying goodbye to everyone. Some of my compulsions include googling symptoms and thinking the same thoughts over and over again so that I can anticipate disaster before it happens. I can't fucking relax. If a doctor told me today that I didn't have bone cancer. I'd find something the same day to be fixated on.

I am so burnt out. I struggle so much daily and I am getting really tired of living. BPD, OCD, and Autistic ? are you fucking kidding me. There is way too fucking much going on in my head all the time, at once. Can you imagine fearing death so much that you feel like you need to kill yourself? I want to kill myself. Is that what my brain wants? To self-destruct? I'm so tired of being strong and resilient.

I am in fucking pain. I feel so guilty. The younger version of myself would never want this for herself. She had so many dreams and aspirations in life. She has so much wonder and curiosity. So many things she wants to do and see. And yet she turned out like this. I failed her in so many ways, I've kept her alive. But for what? To punish her? I'm sorry

[disniq]

Sure! I'm sorry for the delay, it took longer than I thought to make my thoughts into something vaguely coherent lol

Also, this got long, so it's going under a cut and, fair warning; there be spoilers ahead.

Titans has two big failings for me; one is pacing, and the second is, as you sort of mentioned in your ask, that the interpretations of these beloved characters are trying so hard to be dark and edgy that it mostly just makes them supremely unlikable hypocrites.

Both of these come to a head in season 3's Red Hood arc.

It makes sense that they can't do a faithful adaption of UTRH, because Titans is the Dick show, not the Bruce show, and they don't want to try to do the Joker. That's fine, it wouldn't really make sense for this version of Jason anyway - he's older; his childhood trauma is a different flavour; he hasn't been with Bruce for as long; and everyone in this show is more violent and reckless, so Bruce benching Jason for being "too violent and reckless" wouldn't really make sense.

So they kill Jason off in the opening episode, and then they have Bruce kill the Joker and peace out of Gotham because, again, this is the Dick show. We have episodes 2 and 3 of Red Hood causing problems for Dick and the Titans - up to and including killing Hank which apparently we're supposed to be sad about - and then ep 4 where Dick figures out that Red Hood is actually just a pawn working for Jonathan Crane to break him out of Arkham Asylum.

Then we get episode 5, the flashback which shows us that an already suicidally depressed Jason also developed PTSD from the incident with Deathstroke and it's aftermath. He's having nightmares, panic attacks, and is unable to fight anymore. Bruce suggests therapy, which Jason commits to, but then Bruce benches him anyway, which leads Jason to go to Crane because a guy who makes fear gas can probably make an *anti*-fear gas, right?

Well. Sort of.

Crane gives Jason the wrong formula on purpose, and the result is a gas that makes him feel nothing at all. While he's under the influence of this drug, Crane manipulates Jason into proving he's no longer scared by going after the Joker, and then revives him to make him even more indebted to him.

This is all pretty sympathetic, and the next few episodes make a point of confirming that most if not all of what Jason did in ep 2 and 3 was Crane's plan. There's a scene where Jason questions Crane, and is promptly shown that Crane has other underlings who would be happy to replace Red Hood as his second in command.

When Jason undermines Crane again, Crane drugs him (uhh...double drugs him?) and ties him up. The Titans figure out where Crane is hiding and show up to wreck shit, and Jason (now detoxing from the drugs) seems almost pleased about this. Crane escapes, dragging Jason with him, but Jason has had enough of being used, knocks the creep out and runs. He broods on his own for a bit, and then contacts Dick because he realises he maybe fucked up.

So far so good.

I'm not gonna say it's perfect, because there are some really strange choices being made just in general (*cough*confessing that you murdered your teammate to a pair of hookers*cough*), but I can see where they've drawn inspiration from Arkham Knight and tried to connect the dots between the way Jason was treated in season 2 and said well, hey! A kid with RSD up the wazoo is gonna look for approval wherever he can get it, even if that's from a known supervillain who likes fucking with people's heads.

Now, if I were writing the show, this is where I would have Jason's redemption arc start. He walked away from Crane of his own volition, he made the choice himself to reach out to Dick. Crane is desperate and erratic, so having Jason on the titans side isn't any kind of deux ex machina "I know his whole plan and how to stop him" situation.

But because this is Titans, and they so love a bizarre 2nd act team breakup for increasingly stupid reasons, they don't do that.

Instead they pull a fake out, where Crane is evesdropping on Jason and Dick's conversation, and uses that information to lead the Titans into a trap that puts him back in control of the situation. It's never 100% confirmed if Jason was in on this plan or not, but I tend to think he wasn't. Either way, the Titans think he was, so his hope of redemption is dashed and he's drawn back into Crane's circus for another 3 episodes of lacklustre rivalry with Dick that goes nowhere before finally helping the Titans in the final episode.

What's more annoying to me is the way the supposed heroes talk about Jason during this time. When other Titans had been brainwashed, magically controlled, or even just had a violently emotional outburst, they get the benefit of the doubt. Jason doesn't. Gar is the only person asking how this happened, asking how they can *help*. Everyone else is ready to straight up kill Jason for his crimes, even KORI, whose b-plot this season is LITERALLY ABOUT FORGIVING HER SISTER FOR MURDERING HER PARENTS!!

Ahem Anyway.

I'm definitely rambling now lol, but yeah, I think they wrote a decently solid Red Hood plot that fits the Titans-verse, they just tried to make it last a full season when it was a half-season type arc.

Hello yes hi which are these Jason-centric episodes of Titans please? Because I tried it previously and gave up after like 3 episodes because literally every character’s characterisation was annoying me. But I wish to enjoy the Jason hours if that is possible without having to speed run the rest of the 4 seasons. If you please 💙

Oh that is entirely valid, and I would be delighted to help!

So, even though it's not technically Jason-centric, I really do have to recommend season 1 episode 6 "Jason Todd" which, as the name suggests, is his intro episode. It really sets the tone for his and Dick's relationship, and I don't think either of them ever fully recover from this first interaction.

Season 2 is a little trickier, because Jason's story takes place in the background of a couple other episodes - ep 2, 3, and 5, if you did want to skip through them for his bits - but this culminates in season 2 episode 7 "Bruce Wayne", after which Jason leaves the Titans.

Next, you want season 3 episode 5 "Lazarus", which is the flashback episode that bridges how we get from disillusioned Jason to the Red Hood. This is the only fully Jason focused episode, and for unrelated reasons also happens to be my favourite.

The rest of season 3 is... Complicated. It could almost have been good if they'd cut it off halfway through, but they drag it out and flip-flop too many times on Jason's stance for me in the end. I'm happy to give a more detailed breakdown if you want, just let me know!

And last but not least: season 4 episode 11 "Project Starfire" has the Jason Tim interactions, and is well worth skipping through for that alone imo. Jason is so much more settled in himself here that it makes all the suffering almost worth it.

[talesofsonicasura]

Fierce Mergence

An idea that came to me involving the Fierce Deity mask. We all know that there is some kind of entity inside the powerful item which during Majora's Mask and Hyrule Warriors cause the wearer to take its form. However in Breath of the Wild, it was just a mild powerup. (Reminder that it's a Amiibo based item and not actually canon.)

I can only suspect that after sometime between Hyrule Warriors and Breath of the Wild, the Fierce Deity entered a catatonic state or hibernation. Here's some important info to know about complete sensory deprivation. It can be used as a form of therapy but only for short amount of time. Too much will cause serious psychological effects on someone such as dementia (which can explain any possible memory loss).

You see the brain breaks down rational thought structures to minimize stress which however results in a psychotic breakdown afterwards. Imagine being trapped for so long without those vital senses? God or not, that is true hell to even the Fierce Deity.

Hence the catatonic state, his power locking his conscience away cause I'm pretty sure no one wants to see what happens when a god has a psychotic breakdown. That's my theory for why the mask doesn't act the same.

Now for to the actual topic here. What if the Fierce Deity fully fused with the current wearer? I don't mean like possessive type fusion but a purer version. Where two people fully become one: mind, body and soul. The entity wanting to escape their hellish imprisonment at any cost.

Two characters that come to mind is Breath of the Wild Link (Wild in Linked Universe terms) and Majora's Mask Link (Mask/Time in Linked Universe terms). Now if you guys are fans of the Fierce Dadity trope... here's a way to make it sad.

Fierce (or Valion as I prefer to call him) performing such a fusion to save his current wielder especially if that Link is a son in the god's eyes. Most of Link's being is front and center but everything that is Valion becomes consumed. Godhood's already a tough pill to swallow but when it costs your father...

Yeah, neither Mask/Time or Wild are gonna be okay for awhile especially the latter when you look at BOTW. If you don't want to go for the Fierce Dadity route like this but still want to use such an idea then here's a fun twist.

Mask/Time becoming the Fierce Deity thanks to over usage of the mask. It becomes harder and harder to take it off. Whenever it is removed, there are lasting changes such as increase in height, hair beginning to whiten and eyes losing their natural features.

For Wild, this comes from the constant upgrades given by the Great Fairies. The Fierce Deity Mask subtle gaining enough power alongside Valion gaining just a bit of conscious to perform a fusion. An unexpected change as Wild just wanted to wear his new outfit more, not become a God of Battle.

The Fierce Deity does want a chance to live again even if he's just an echo or hidden conscious. Reason why he does this to these Links is because of who they are as a person. Neither of them would use such power for personal gain but to genuinely help others.

Some folks in the fandom see Fierce Deity as a war god so there are important aspects that must be known. War isn't always started just for the hell of it. It is often for the sake of others whether the intentions are good or bad. War has its own heroes: soldiers, medics, to even the citizens themselves.

Hope, pain, sorrow, faith, joy, grief and rage are also emotions connected to this very concept. Both Links embody nearly all of this so they are perfect candidates in Valion's eyes. The Deity's seat is now empty so someone should take his place. And if that successor takes on a child, it just makes things better cause they now have a reason to avoid the same fate.

That's all I have for now. Until next time folks, I'll see you back in Hyrule.

Edit: I forgot to add that you guys can try your hand at this concept! I don't really mind at all as I'm curious about what people can come up with. 😀

[rainieclown]

DEADLY OBSESSION

michael myers x reader - chapter one: new neighbours

you've been in the haddonfield memorial hospital for what felt like forever with ptsd from a robbery gone wrong when a new patient gets thrown in next to you. he's quiet, perfect company if it weren't for the high security around him.

tags: medication, hospital settings, this is before michael gets out of the hospital, orphan! reader btw, it's spoken about more in detail in the fic, michael being a mute for a while, he does speak in this tho, smut, first times, michael being inexperienced, creampie, biting/marking, big dick michael energy, hymen ripping btw

warnings: ptsd themes, therapy, mentions of murder and depression, eventual smut, loss of virginity, mild blood, slight breeding kink on michael's end

a quick note!

if anything related to the ptsd the reader experiences is incorrect/wrong please let me know so i can correct it and learn! i am researching this so i can to write it with the accuracy it deserves<3

three sharp knocks wake you from your nightmare, you sigh at the sight of the ceiling of your hospital room. bland, the room is so incredibly bland. "y/n, medication time!" the nurse that takes main care for you chirps happily through the door, and you let out a wheeze as you sit up and pull on a shirt. "coming." you say, voice monotone and small. opening the door, you see the nurse with a tray, but what does capture your eye is the guards standing by a door nearby. "miss burnham, what's going on there?" you quirk a brow, taking your sertraline from miss burnham as well as the glass of water. "oh it's just a new patient, don't worry." the nurse brushes your question off with a kind smile as she takes the now empty glass back. "come on, breakfast then art therapy!" she beams, gesturing for you to follow her. you glance at the door again, before leaving with miss burnham.

breakfast is bland too, no sugar in the porridge, no fruit, no juice. it's so distastefully bland that you want to push it away but you don't want to get told off for not eating by mrs finch who was the more strict nurse that worked on supervision in the more social places, most of the time anyway. miss burnham sits across from you, reading over your schedule from her clipboard. "so, after art therapy is your free period, what do you want to do then?" she asks, looking up at you. "can we watch a movie with the others?" you ask softly, and miss burnham's eyes brighten. "you want to socialise today?" she beams and you sigh, taking a sip of water. "sure." you say softly, glancing around the cafeteria. "that's amazing, that will make outstanding progress!" she smiles, resting her cold hand on yours but pulls away when you flinch. "sorry, i forget." she says softly, but you sigh. "it's alright." you say, spotting a scruffy teen who looked to be the same age as you being directed to an empty table.

miss burnham hums and turns to see what you're looking at. "oh, that's mr myers, he's your new neighbour." she says when she turns back to you. "he looks interesting." you say, observing the cuffs on his wrist. myers plops down at the table, ignoring the bowl they put in front of him. "hmm, stay away from him. he seems to be under high security." miss burnham says, turning back to look at myers. the boy's eyes flicker to yours and your breath hitches, a sense of mild panic rising in your throat. "if you're done, we can go to the yellow room to do some painting with doctor piers." burnham says softly, pulling your attention back to her. "sure.." you mumble, and follow her out the door, past myers who watches you the whole way.

doctor piers is a happy man who greets you loudly. you don't like his suffocating energy, so miss burnham sits you down in your quiet corner and gives you your sketchbook. you sit quietly and draw things from your childhood, things that make you happy, all while miss burnham actually colours in a colouring page with the pencils you use. you felt peaceful with her by your side, she was like your big sister considering she was close to your age. "ooh, i like him." miss burnham smiles, tapping her nail next to the rough sketch of snufkin from the moomins. "thanks..." you reply quietly, letting the nurse push the pencils to you so you can colour him in.

for once, you don't feel alone... don't feel isolated with your thoughts and bad memories. miss burnham is your safe place, your new family. "so, y/n. are you interested in anyone in particular that you want to befriend?" miss burnham asks, the scratching of her pencil on paper stopping as she leans forward as if the two of you were gossiping about crushes. "not really... just think it's good to try and ease myself back into being around people other than you." you shrug, putting the green pencil down to pick up a yellow one. "that's still good. do you want to try and finish the drawing of him." she asks, flipping the page carefully to the recreation of that fateful night. your breath hitches as you stare at the charcoal drawing of the man standing over your mother. "what else do you remember, if there's anything else?" burnham asks, watching you carefully.

it comes back in waves, it was supposed to be a robbery, your family was in the wrong place at the wrong time, the blood spatter, the ornament that was used as a weapon dripping with the red substance. tears fill your eyes as you let out a shuddery breath. "no." you say firmly, wanting to push the book away. "are you sure, you haven't drawn any facial features for him.. it will help the investigation a lot." your nurse reminds you, and your hand tightens on the pencil. "i don't want to!" you snap, getting up abruptly, chair screeching back. "okay, okay. deep breaths." burnham stands too, fighting the urge to gently rub your arm soothingly. "i don't want to think about it." you hiss, storming off. nurse burnham calls after you, and doctor piers looks up to see you making a run for it. "y/n, wait!" he tries, but you swerve him and run out the door.

nurse burnham can't keep up in her high heels, and you outrun her easily, making your way to your room after losing her. you're alone again, and you catch sight of myers, sat in his room just as alone as you are. the guard is talking to doctor loomis, a man who gives you the creeps. seeing an opportunity to get past, you slip into your room quickly, once again isolating yourself. in his own room, michael had spotted you through the glass on his door, and he walks up, peering into your room as best he can. "hey! back up, myers." the guard bangs his door, now without loomis's presence, but michael doesn't move. he's unfazed by the guard's aggressive nature. the noise spooked you, you looked like a deer in headlights as you stare back at him.

you seem... disturbed by something, and that upsets michael. the feeling in his chest, to grab you and hide you from the world grows at the look in your eye. michael's hand finds the door, and he yoinks it open once the guard unlocked it in an attempt to push him back into his cell. "hey! what're you-?" he cuts the guard off, knocking the man out easily. his body hits the floor as michael opens your door easily. you gasp, back hitting the corner of your wall as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "please, don't hurt me! i didn't do anything!" you yell, and michael shakes his head as he closes your door. "leave me alone." you repeat the three words like a prayer, voice quieter as your hands grip your hair with stress. "i'm not going to hurt you." michael rasps painfully, shocked at how deep his voice had gotten in comparison to the last time he spoke.

his words don't seem to get through to you, and he grows mildly annoyed. eventually, michael sits next to you and pulls you into a tight hug, hoping it would help as he had no idea what to do. you yelp in surprise, breathing slowing with confusion as you look up at the brunette with furrowed brows. "i-.. what..?" you stumble for words, but michael doesn't say anything, his empty eyes observing you. "thank you..." you mumble, once you calm down, and michael nods. "what's your name..?" you ask quietly, and michael continues to stare before answering.

"michael." he rasps, pointing at himself. "nice to meet you, michael. i'm y/n." you reply, eyes averting from his anxiously. michael sits with you as you start thinking. more intrusive thoughts break in, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes you as you rub your forehead. michael tilts his head, observing you. "sorry... it's just..." you sigh trying to find an explanation that didn't include what you thought of. "do you ever get intrusive thoughts?" you ask, finally looking at michael. the other teen nods, and you deflate with relief, he'd understand you. "they suck, don't they?" you chuckle half-heartedly, and michael shrugs. "oh, do they not bother you as much?"

he doesn't reply, and you nod slightly. "want me to show you around? i need to take my mind of things." you suggest, getting up and looking at the boy on your floor. michael seems to think for a moment before nodding and following you. you step over the guard carefully, and gesture for michael to follow you. the click-clacking of heels makes you grab the other teen's hand as you pull him around a corner. "shh! they'll be looking for me." you can't help but smile at the make-shift game of cat and mouse. it's been a while since you got to play games. michael blinks at you, letting you lead him around. "this is the rec room, it's the best room here. if you have a free period this is the best place to go. they let you watch anything they have." you smile, creaking the door open carefully.

doctor addison spots you and rushes over. "nurse burnham is looking for you." he whisper yells and you nod. "i'm showing the new guy around so shh!" you say, putting a finger up to your mouth. "it's good to see you getting out of your comfort zone. if i see her i'll tell her you're helping doctor loomis." he winks, and you smile slightly. "thanks addison." you say, pulling michael away from the room. "who's that?" michael's deep voice makes you jump. "oh, doctor addison? he's so cool, he'll give you snacks for after hours." you smile up at him, and michael notes the personality of the doctor. easy target to begin with. "you've seen the cafeteria so let's go to the gardens next." you say, peering around a corner carefully before ducking back, your back bumping into michael's chest. "my nurse is coming, quick, we can hide in here!" you whisper yell, pulling michael into doctor addison's office.

you close the door carefully, and michael observes the room. the decor is very vintage yet comfy, it suits the doctor quite well. you press your ear to the door carefully, listening as miss burnham speaks to doctor addison. you gasp as michael pulls you from the door, hand grasping your wrist. "are you alright?" you ask carefully, looking up at the brunette who didn't seem bothered. he shrugs, simply holding you near to him. your presence stirred something in him, and he didn't know if he should kill you or hold you closer. michael spots a candle stick, and his eyes dart from it to you.

michael lets out a silent breath as he decides on the latter, tugging you into his chest. your breath hitches as you hit his large frame, and your eyes come back to him. craning his head down, michael buries his face into the crook of your neck. you make a small noise, unsure of what to do as he takes in your scent. "uh... michael?" you furrow your brows, hands raised awkwardly as you didn't know where to put them. "shh." he hushes you, hands finding your hips. "what are you-?" your question is cut off by his lips grazing your neck, and it all clicks into place.

your body froze up, michael made a silent note of this. "i- uh.." you stammer as he continues to kiss your neck. "fuck, michael. we shouldn't do this." you say softly, glancing to the door. michael hushes you as his teeth nip your skin, he was testing the waters with you. your knees felt weak as your eyes fluttered shut. it had been so long since you had got to do anything like this, since you got to feel like a teenager. your hand find's michael's fluffy hair as you move his head closer to you.

taking the small success, michael sinks his teeth into your neck fully. the feelings in his chest explode as he finally marks you, suckling the dark bruise onto your skin. you whimper at the feeling, your other hand resting on his chest. eventually, his lips move again, and they find your jaw. you hum, letting him press closer to you as his lips kiss up your your own. when your lips meet, michael's inexperience really shows, he doesn't really know what to do so you take the lead.

eventually, his lips copy your movement as his hands tighten on your hips. you hum into his mouth, fingers gently stroking his scalp as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. it felt right, and you didn't know why. eventually, when michael pulls away, you gaze into his eyes and notice the scar over his right one. "oh, what happened?" you ask, fingertips gently grazing over the scar on his eyes. upon closer look, his iris was paler than the other, and you guessed his vision was poor from the one eye. you're not able to get a closer look as michael kisses you again. you hands cup his face as you melt into him, lips moving against his fluently. michael moves with you, and you gasp as your lower back hits the desk in the room. the other teen's strong hands lift you and plop you down so you're sitting on the hard wood of the table.

your arms wrap around michael's neck to kiss him again, and he's happy that you're slowly beginning to show interest in him. you make a small noise as michael pulls your legs around his waist, standing between them with his pelvis pressing against yours. teasingly, you shuffle your hips against him as you kiss him again. michael growls softly, grinding into you as he grasps your thighs roughly to stop your movements. "i've never done this before." you admit, keeping him close as he hums. "me neither." he shrugs, kissing you again. you feel eased by michael's lack of experience, it felt like the two of you were experimenting together and that comforts you.

eventually, michael's fingers find the waistband of your pants and you whimper as he tugs them down easily. "no underwear?" he chuckles softly, and your cheeks heat up. "some of us don't have that luxury." you mumble, averting his gaze. "it's fine." he shrugs, fingers brushing over your slit. you gasp at the feeling of him spreading you open, and can't help but move your hips against his digits. his middle finger teases your wet hole, and you whine when he collects some of it to bring into his mouth. you feel slightly embarrassed as he suckles your pleasure off his finger with no shame before moving his hand back down to rub his fingers over your slit again.

your smaller hand finds his, and you guide his fingers to your clit with a small moan. catching your meaning, michael's rough fingers start rubbing small circles over your bud. you gasp, back arching into him as his fingertips stimulate you. "fuck, michael!" you whimper, hands grasping his shirt to pull him closer. he hums at your words, moving so his thumb abused your clit whilst his fingers slowly pushed your hole open. you whine as his fingers press into you, your hymen stretching uncomfortably. "michael, please- i need you." you whimper, letting him lay you back on the desk. removing his hand from you, he pulls down his own pants, erection springing free.

you freeze slightly at his size, unsure if he'll fit. michael notes your uneasiness as rubs your outer thighs softly. you smile nervously as his tip rubs against your cunt, your hands grasping his anxiously as he slowly pushes into you. you wail as his cock rips your hymen, and michael smiles as your blood slowly smears his cock. "it hurts!" you whimper, grabbing his arms tightly with discomfort. michael shushes you, and gives you small kisses until you stop whining. once you've settled around the intrusion and your pussy adjusts to his dick, you give him the nod to say that you're ready. michael slowly pushes in so that he's fully sheathed before pulling out half way. you whimper at the feeling, pleasure slowly overtaking the dull pain you still felt.

eventually, michael finds a medium pace in you, smiling as his cock bobs through the skin of your stomach. you whimper, holding michael's arms even tighter as he fucks into you. "oh fuck..!" you yelp as his tip protrudes from your abdomen. "sh." he replies quickly as your back arches off the table. "fuck, michael- oh!" you press your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speeds up. eventually, his hand moves and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. you gasp and keen loudly behind your palm as your thighs tremble around his hips. michael grips the flesh of your outer thighs tightly as he adjusts your legs towards you at an awkward angle. despite the weird position, you moan loudly as his cock pushes deeper into you, his tip kissing your womb.

michael hums at the feeling as his hand gets tired of stimulating you, so as a substitute, he brings his hand down onto your swollen bud harshly. you wail at the sting of his slap, pleasure rolling through your body. taking that as a good sign, michael waits before slapping your clit again harder. unexpectedly, you cum on his cock as you shudder and tremble under him. your cunt squeezes michael's cock tightly, preventing him from moving. the way your gummy walls grip him as you twitch around him is too much, so michael pushes into your womb so his cum filled you up.

you gasp at the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, and michael seems to be loving it because when you come down from your high and loosen around him slightly, he's fucking his cum into you. you can't help but let out a small noise with every thrust, whimpering when michael stops, satisfied with how deep his cum had gone. your womb drinks up his seed nicely as you let michael grab your hands to pull you up into a sitting position. slumping against him, you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes becoming droopy with exhaustion. he grins at your sated state, pulling your pants up for you. once he is dressed as well, he picks you up carefully to bring you back to your room to rest.

michael ignores the nurses who try to stop him, marching past them as he carries your sleepy form to his room instead. he didn't know much, but he did know that only armed guards as well as doctor loomis were only allowed in his room for safety reasons and it was his best bet of keeping you with him. carefully opening his door, he closes it behind him with his foot and watches as the nurses stand anxiously peering through the window. he puts you down carefully on his bed, letting you settle as he sits down. his eyes find the nurses, one of them had left, probably to get security or doctor loomis. rolling his eyes, michael moves his attention back to you. you had already dozed off, and michael looks down to your stomach. the idea of you being swollen with his child excites him, a true marking. however, his hatred for children conflicts that, and he feels slightly frustrated.

three sharp knocks on the door can be heard, and michael lazily looks back over. doctor loomis is standing there, and he looks furious, but michael will stand his ground for you.

[bonny-kookoo]

👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.