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sweetromanova · 17 days ago

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Off The Record: Part Three🖤

Natasha Romanoff x Criminal Defense Lawyer!Original Female Character

Summary: She’s built a career on keeping secrets and defending the worst with nothing to lose. That changed when Natasha Romanoff showed up on the other side of the courtroom.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, psychological manipulation, implied child abuse and trauma, emotional abuse, mentions of torture, human and sex trafficking, war crimes and murder, implied coercion, legal corruption, gun violence, secondary character deaths, power imbalance, blood and injury depiction

A/N: for any lawyers, law students or legally-adjacent folks reading this, i did get some help from a friend when i wrote this but even she wasn’t fully convinced about the accuracy so if anything’s off, just kindly ignore the legal nonsense and roll with it!🖤

Chapter Three

Avengers Secondary Holding Facility, Upstate New York

March 20, 2022

Maria Hill dropped the file onto the conference room table like it was a live grenade. “Motion to suppress Exhibit B, Exhibit E, and preliminary statements from the intake log.”

Across from her, the Avengers looked up from their scattered files and half-drunk coffee. Tony, legs kicked up on the table, slowly lowered his sunglasses. “She’s tossing out our evidence?” He exclaimed. “On what grounds?!”

“Improper chain of custody on the Prague lab samples, lack of independent verification on the digital logs and-” Maria glanced at the page, jaw tightening. “-interrogation without formal counsel present.”

Natasha barely moved, her voice was flat. “That interrogation didn’t even include questions. We asked him to confirm his name when he was brought on to the quinjet.”

“She filed it as a rights violation.” Maria said. “The judge could side with her. Anything gathered between his detainment and her first meeting is inadmissible.”

“She’s good.” Steve muttered. Not admiring, just resigned.

“Too good.” Tony added, spinning his tablet toward him. “Which is why I’ve spent the last four hours looking into her.”

“Stark…” Maria warned but Tony ignored her.

“She’s been a defense attorney in New York for around a decade I believe, maybe less. Passed the bar with a near-perfect score. And then? Radio silence. No social media, no interviews, barely any photos that aren’t court composites or grainy trial press shots.”

Bruce frowned. “That’s not unusual for lawyers, is it?”

Tony leaned forward. “Not for normal lawyers, no. But this one? She’s got classified SHIELD seals on several of her past cases, sealed after trial, not before. You don’t get that kind of protection unless someone upstairs is nervous.”

Maria’s expression tightened. “You were poking into SHIELD casework?”

“I was poking and-” Tony said. “-I found a case involving an international arms dealer five years ago. Guy vanished mid-trial. Sienna filed a motion for mistrial two days later. No ruling. Case disappeared.”

“Off the books?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded. “More like burned.”

Natasha finally stood. “She’s not just doing her job. She knows how to play the system. She’s ten moves ahead of us and she’s not even sweating.”

Maria turned her screen around for them all to see, a new motion, filed just minutes ago. “Motion to Exclude Expert Testimony of Wanda Maximoff filed on grounds of ‘extrajudicial psychic influence’ and ‘unverifiable cognitive methods that violate federal evidentiary standards’.”

“She’s trying to disqualify Wanda?” Steve said, stunned. “We didn’t even use her, Sienna came before we had the chance.”

“She’s going to win that one.” Maria said, quietly. “We don’t have a precedent for enhanced verification in court. Not legally.”

Bruce leaned back. “She’s dismantling our case before it even gets to trial.”

Tony tossed his stylus onto the table. “Yeah, well, I want to know who trained her to do that.”

Natasha was already halfway to the door.

“Where are you going?” Maria asked.

Natasha didn’t look back. “To find a crack.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Antonia Dreykov’s Residence, Budapest

March 21, 2022

Night settled over Budapest’s old quarter like a weighted blanket. Natasha moved through the alleys with the easy, practiced steps of someone who used to know every corner of this place. A single security light buzzed and flickered above the rusted door of what looked like an old, shut-down print shop. She knocked twice, paused then once more.

A slit slid open, brown eyes that were cool but sharp studied her. “Romanoff.”

“Antonia. I need five minutes.” The lock turned and Natasha slipped inside.

The room was spare with only a folding table, two chairs and a kettle on a hot plate. Antonia Dreykov, once the Taskmaster, wore a black hoodie and a scar that the world would never see, leaned against the wall with her arms folded.

“You don’t visit old classmates unless the world’s ending.” She said, in accented English.

Natasha offered the faintest hint of a smile. “Not ending. Just… rotting in court.”

She slid a photo across the table of Maksim Vasiliev in all his glory, taken during intake.

Antonia’s eyes hardened. “I remember him. Red Room winter inspections. He watched the proficiency trials. Took notes and offered suggestions.” She exhaled. “Always smelled like antiseptic.”

“I need you to tell a tribunal that.” Natasha said. “Under oath.”

Antonia shook her head. “I was never his prisoner. He didn’t lay hands on me. That makes me an observer, not a victim. A lawyer will shred me.”

“Sienna Blake will try.” Natasha admitted. “But the jury or the judges, just need corroboration. Someone outside HYDRA command structure who can place him inside the Red Room, during live exercises. Connect his ‘theoretical science’ to real girls.”

Antonia stared at the photo a long moment then asked the question Natasha was dreading. “What do you get out of this? Revenge or justice?”

Natasha’s reply was quiet but edged. “Both, if the system lets me.”

Finally, Antonia nodded once. “One condition. My testimony is sealed after court. No press. No cameras. I give you what I saw then disappear.”

“Done.” Natasha promised, without hesitation. “Maria Hill will handle the protective paperwork.”

Antonia grabbed a battered backpack, already packed up and ready to run. Natasha knew all too well that she’d done that several times in the past. “Then let’s go. I still owe that man a scar.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The Avengers Compound, Upstate New York

March 22, 2022

Maria looked up from a stack of motions as Natasha walked in with Antonia at her side. “Tell me that’s not who I think it is.” Maria said, glancing at the bandana that covered half of Antonia’s face.

“Antonia Dreykov.” Natasha confirmed. “Firsthand witness. She’ll place Vasiliev inside the Red Room on multiple dates between 2000 and 2010, observing live neural‑conditioning trials.”

Maria’s brows lifted. “That ties him directly to human experimentation outside his lab network. Undermines his whole ‘I just signed papers’ defense.”

“And it’s not evidence collected before counsel.” Natasha added. “Fresh witness, voluntary.”

Antonia folded her arms. “Your tribunal has a witness list form?”

Maria almost smiled. “Several.” She flipped open a new file. “Blake is going to contest relevance and credibility but if we can corroborate Maksim’s travel logs with Red Room intel, the judge should allow it.”

Natasha’s eyes were cool and focused for the first time in this trial. “One crack at a time.”

Tony’s voice drifted in from the doorway, tablet in hand. “Good news travels fast. Jarvis just pinged that Blake filed another motion at 05:30.”

Natasha didn’t look away from Maria. “Let her file. We have our own play now.”

Maria nodded, sliding a witness submission form across the table to Antonia. “Welcome to the fight.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Federal Tribunal Courtroom, Washington, D.C.

March 24, 2022

The courtroom wasn’t overly grand but it felt like it was carved from stone. It was all marble pillars, high ceilings, and silence so thick it pressed against your ears. Three tribunal judges sat in elevated chairs, stern-faced and unreadable.

In the gallery, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Bruce, Clint, Bucky, Wanda and Tony lined the second bench. SHIELD’s legal team flanked Maria Hill, who sat rigid at the prosecution’s table.

Across from them, seated alone like she owned the goddamn floor was Sienna Blake.

Charcoal grey suit, heels like blades and not a hair out of place. A single black folder sat before her. No laptop. No assistant. She didn’t need them.

The clerk called the hearing to order. The judges gave nods then the lead judge began. “Counsellor Blake, you may proceed with your motions.”

Sienna stood smoothly. No notes. Just that controlled, deliberate walk toward the center. “Your Honours...” She began, voice calm and unshaken. “The defense respectfully moves to suppress the following. Preliminary intake statements made without legal counsel present, Second, a laboratory sample data lacking verified chain-of-custody documentation. Third, an expert testimony from an individual identified as ‘Wanda Maximoff’ on grounds of unverifiable psychic influence. And finally a witness testimony from Antonia Dreykov, on relevance and credibility grounds.”

There was a quiet intake of breath from SHIELD’s table and the second row. Maria didn’t blink. But Natasha stiffened. How the hell did she know about Antonia already? It was processed as close to the deadline as possible.

The lead judge looked over his glasses. “Ms. Blake, we’ll take each motion in order. Begin with the intake statements.”

Sienna nodded. “My client was detained for over six hours without legal representation. During that time, he was asked to verify documents, names, and operations he allegedly oversaw. Regardless of tone or intention, this constitutes an interrogation. It violates federal and international rights of due process.”

Maria stood. “He was read his rights. He refused counsel initially. Can I add this was all on his way into custody? No formal interrogation took place.”

“Refusal made without full capacity.” Sienna countered. “We have a pending psychiatric evaluation confirming impaired decision-making at the time.”

The judges conferred briefly. “Motion to suppress preliminary statements is granted.”

Tony swore under his breath. Natasha’s fingers tightened into fists. “Next.” The judge ordered.

“Chain of custody for Exhibit E.” Sienna continued. “The Prague lab samples, while potentially damning, were transported through three countries, two field agents and an undocumented private courier. No signed custody, no uninterrupted seal.”

Maria leaned forward. “We have timestamped photos and transfer logs.”

“And I have a U.S. v. Arvello precedent that ruled such documentation as insufficient under federal rules of evidence,” Sienna said, almost bored. “Even when a case involved nerve agents.”

A second pause. The center judge sighed. “Motion to exclude Exhibit E is granted.”

Steve murmured. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Welcome to the justice system.” Bruce muttered back.

“Third motion.” The judge prompted.

“Expert testimony from Wanda Maximoff.” Sienna said. “Her enhanced status may give her certain abilities, but the court cannot verify the accuracy of her cognitive impressions. There’s no precedent for psychics in federal court and no method of cross-examination to test the validity of her ‘truth detection.’”

Maria started to argue but the judge cut her off.

“This issue has been discussed previously. Without scientific validation, the tribunal cannot accept such testimony. Motion to exclude is granted.”

A cold, satisfied smile flickered on Sienna’s lips, so brief, it might’ve been imagined. ““Final motion.” The judge spoke. “Antonia Dreykov.”

Sienna nodded. “The defense questions the credibility and relevance of this witness. She cannot place my client in proximity to any specific criminal act, nor claim to be a victim. Her testimony is speculative and possibly biased due to past affiliations with the accuser, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha stood. “Permission to speak, Your Honour.”

The judge considered. “Granted.”

“She’s not biased. She was there. I brought her in because I’ve been in those same rooms. Maksim Vasiliev didn’t just design the science. He watched it break people.”

Sienna’s tone stayed even. “And yet no record of his participation exists in SHIELD files, no documents, no signed orders. Just implication.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Implication’s enough when you know what to look for.”

The judge cleared his throat. “Motion to exclude Dreykov testimony is denied, pending further evidentiary review.”

Sienna didn’t react. She simply inclined her head and returned to her seat.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Outside of the Federal Tribunal Courtroom, Washington, D.C.

March 24, 2022

The team exited in a tense, quiet crowd. Maria was reviewing the judges’ notes, eyes darting through paperwork.

Tony muttered. “That woman just disarmed three-quarters of our main evidence in this case without breaking a sweat.”

“She’s not just defending him.” Steve sighed. “She’s challenging everything we are.”

Natasha stopped at the edge of the marble steps, jaw tight. She looked down the block and there she was.

Sienna, standing calmly beside a black car, talking quietly into her phone. She glanced up once.

Their eyes met.

Sienna didn’t smile. She didn’t gloat.

She simply looked at Natasha the way you’d look at a chessboard… and she was moving her knight.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Conference Room, Federal Tribunal Court, Washington, D.C.

March 25, 2022

The conference room was stark, a sharp contrast to the courtroom’s glory. A low table, somber faces and piles of legal documents formed a barricade between allies and adversaries. At the head sat Judge Harmon, the presiding officer from the tribunal, flanked by Maria, Sienna, and Natasha.

“Ms. Blake-” Judge Harmon began, voice even. “-your motions have been noted. The tribunal will allow subpoenas for further witnesses but they must be submitted within 48 hours.”

Sienna nodded, serene as ever. “Understood, Your Honour. We have a preliminary list, experts on psychiatric forensics, SHIELD operations analysts and an international witness whose testimony will be critical.” Maria exchanged a glance with Natasha but said nothing.

“Agent Romanoff-” Judge Harmon turned to Natasha. “-your testimony will be scheduled. And any classified information must be vetted through SHIELD’s legal office before presentation.”

Natasha’s eyes didn’t waver. “Understood.”

The judge folded his hands. “This tribunal expects transparency and cooperation. The court will hold everyone accountable.”

The meeting adjourned swiftly, leaving a charged silence.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Holding Area, Federal Tribunal Court, Washington, D.C.

March 25, 2022

Sienna and Natasha exited together, the crowd thinning until it was just the two of them.

The tension hung like smoke between them.

Natasha broke the silence first. “You play a dangerous game, Sienna. Defending a monster like Vasiliev, and doing it so well. It’s… infuriating.”

Sienna’s eyes glinted, sharp but not unkind. “I’m just doing my job. Everyone deserves a defense, even monsters. If you want to bring him down, you’ll have to fight me and the law first.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “You’re not just a lawyer. You’re a weapon in a suit and block heels.”

Sienna smiled faintly. “And you’re a soldier with nothing but your fury. But this isn’t a battlefield anymore.”

Natasha stepped closer. “Maybe not. But I won’t back down.”

Sienna’s smile softened, almost a hint of respect. “Neither will I.”

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wishcamper · 2 months ago

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A Study in Survival: Disorganized Attachment and the Bonds of Nesta Archeron

a @nestaarcheronweek submission

So if you follow any of my work you know that I love to yap about psychological principles. Today I want to talk about attachment, and the trauma that occurs when you don’t get the bond you need.

Attachment styles are having a moment right now in pop psychology. It only takes a quick scroll through Instagram or TikTok (WebMD for mental disorders) to find a post about “dealing with an avoidant” or “heal your anxious attachment” or “10 things securely attached people do”.

I wanted to use today, Bonds day, to highlight a lesser-known pattern: disorganized attachment. We’re going to use Nesta Archeron as our case study.

But before we begin, a disclaimer: Nesta is a fictional character, so whether she does or doesn’t have disorganized attachment doesn’t matter. My credentials include a license in counseling and personal experience of disorganized attachment. These are my clinical interpretations of behavior based on the text. It’s not intended to be prescriptive nor diagnostic for any real people. If you identify with Nesta’s story or anything I detail here, help is available.

cw: non-graphic discussion of childhood trauma and abuse

We all know Nesta struggles when it comes to closeness. When we first meet her in ACOTAR, Nesta is angry at everyone but Elain. She hates their father, is disdainful of Feyre, and approaches relationships with utilitarianism. Tomas is attracted to me? Great, marry him for security.

Attachment is a blanket term that describes the phenomenon of infants bonding with their caregivers. Bonding is essential in the first few years of life, especially the first few months. Infants who are held, attended to when they cry, and have their basic needs met develop a fundamental trust in the world around them. They learn on a pre-thought level that they can expect others to to care about what’s happening to them, and when they don’t, that’s the exception. This is called secure attachment.

There are a lot of competing theories about why and how the other attachment patterns form. The evolutionary theory from Dr. John Bowlby suggests that bonding between children and caregivers was essential to survival. Humans generally have one baby at a time, and a baby left alone in the outdoors isn’t going to last for long. Through instinctive behaviors that invoke a drive to attend in others (crying, screaming, smiling, clinging), infants can ensure that their needs are met. Through consistent and repeated response to needs, this bond and the trust associated with it solidify, so in the event a caregiver cannot attend to the child, it is a temporary rupture that can be repaired instead of the basis for viewing all relationships.

Think about it in terms of ancient humans: when threatened by the outside world, does the child have a safe place to go back to? Is there a fire to gather around where they can expect to be fed and comforted and kept warm? What if it’s only there sometimes, but they can’t predict when? Or is all the world a dark night full of predators?

And beyond this, what if the attachment figure is the predator? Someone with disorganized attachment patterns may experience the caregiver as the direct source of harm via abuse.

From what we know in canon, Nesta’s childhood was not so warm and fuzzy. The facts we have are that before age ten her grandmother was physically abusive, her family assumed from birth that she would marry nobility (and trained her accordingly), her mother was verbally and emotionally abusive, and her father did not step in effectively to stop this. No one was meeting her emotional needs effectively. Add to this that nearly 80% of children who experience abuse display some degree of disorganized attachment, and it seems pretty obvious.

So if we imagine her partaking in Mary Ainsworth’s Strange Situation Procedure, what would we expect to see? Distress when her mother leaves, fear when she returns, and ambivalence about whether or not to go to her for comfort. A child who has not learned a mostly-effective strategy for soliciting care because the attachment figure is too unpredictable, and the price of being wrong is too high (abuse).

This can affect a person into adulthood in a number of ways, regarding both self-concept and relationships with others.

I want you to imagine that almost every time you made eye contact with a person you love, they never smiled. It’s natural that you would begin to wonder if you’ve done something wrong. You try different things, but they still never smile. Even if they smiled once, repeating the same action doesn’t cause it to happen again. So it’s not what you’re doing that’s wrong—you are wrong. Something about you is not worth smiling at, no matter what you do. Maybe you’re just a person who doesn’t deserve to be smiled at. You’re not good enough. And when you have no other relationships to fall back on, no independently-built self-concept to contradict that, you develop a core identity of shame.

Children do not have the ability to label their caregiver as the one doing wrong when they are very young. Believing so would mean that NO one is looking out for them, they are alone, and thus will not survive. Abandonment to children feels like death, because at one time that's what it meant. Instead the child splits and places all good characteristics onto the parents, and all bad ones onto themselves, in order to get enough security to keep living.

Nesta grew up in a loveless house, describing no warmth from either parent. She was constantly being criticized and allowed to be hurt by her grandmother. It would be a rare child that doesn’t grow up in that situation thinking something is wrong with them.

But we don’t even have to know the details to see these threads in the present. Nesta is wary of ALL relationship. She does not trust others have her best interest at heart. She does not believe other people will inherently like her. She feels deep shame about her own emotions (regardless of the behaviors) and punishes herself for coming up short. She self-medicates with substances—VERY common—and we never see her demonstrate healthy self-esteem. These are all hallmarks of a person who did not have the opportunity to experience loving, secure attachment in childhood.

(Sidebar: this is how we do trauma therapy with incomplete/inaccessible memories or when people don’t want to go into detail. We focus instead on what exists now in the debris field of the trauma.)

Okay, now that we’ve established the core shame identity, let’s talk about relational trauma. According to Pete Walker, a licensed marriage and family therapist who studies and has written several books on complex post-traumatic stress, asserts that the conditions that create disorganized attachment are inherently traumatizing. The core wound of all abuse is emotional neglect, which is the failure of the attachment figure to attune to and meet the needs of a child.

One of the most insidious ways C-PTSD manifests is via emotional flashbacks. These are so ingrained the person doesn’t know they’re happening unless they build conscious awareness of them. Emotional flashbacks are moments when past feelings visit the present via remembered sensations of relational trauma.

A person gets cut off in traffic and experiences the feeling of their dad raging until he gets his way. Someone gets an email notification from their boss and feels a rush of fear that they’re in trouble, traveling back to a time they might not even consciously remember, when their mom didn’t speak to them for a day because they used the wrong soap.

Emotional flashbacks can be extremely subtle. The other day I realized I was feeling shame because I “can’t do pillows right”. I’ve been having pain in my neck and struggling to find the right configuration that helps me sleep better. And I legitimately caught myself feeling self-hatred because wow I’m so dumb that I can’t figure that out I'm such a worthless person. As if it’s even possible! to be bad! at PILLOWS!

I believe we see Nesta having emotional flashbacks throughout the series. The IC showing up to her door demanding help—great, here’s person who wants something from me I don’t want to give, this will end in pain. Her difficulty moving on from the events of the war—what’s wrong with me, why can everyone else just move on? Cassian loving her—love always comes at a price I have to pay because I’m not inherently worthy. She repeatedly mentions not feeling deserving of him. So she employs strategies learned over time in order to protect herself.

People with disorganized attachment patterns suffer in relationships, and they suffer out of them. They want connection desperately but are terrified when they receive it. They employ mechanisms to defend their frightened inner child that habituate over time. It’s not uncommon for people with C-PTSD to develop a default stress response (fight/flight/freeze/fawn) instead of having access to the utility of the whole spectrum.

It might sound funny, but I believe Nesta is a habituated freeze type. As an adult she has more of an ability to fight back, which she does employ, being sharp and cold as a way to prevent people from getting close or trying to take advantage of her. But fight types tend to blame others for their feelings. Yet over and over again we see Nesta blame herself. And in moments of greatest stress, we see her collapse. Her alcohol use. The hike. Her submission to Rhysand after giving Bryce the Mask. Even all of the books to a certain extent. I think about how she must’ve survived with her mother and grandmother—learning how to take it, how to swallow her feelings and perform.

Stress responses exists in a hierarchy, and habituated freeze types are often called the most profoundly abandoned children, as they were not able to employ fight, flight, nor fawn in response to danger. They instead utilize a kind of deadened endurance to survive harm by escaping within. If you’re even seen a prey animal go limp while being attacked, this is the freeze response taken to its extreme conclusion, where the animal is flooded with natural opiates as they prepare to die.

Healing disorganized attachment is not simple or easy. I don’t say that to be a downer, but because relearning trust is really complicated. It takes very deliberate awareness of unconscious patterns, tireless repetition of redirections away from those patterns, and acceptance that the past is affecting us in the present whether we want it to or not.

Learning to ask for help and comfort, to even acknowledge you want it, is so fucking hard. There are days for me it legitimately feels like dying, to ask.

But it is possible via neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to form new pathways. By doing the daily work, surrounding ourselves with safe people for “reparenting by committee”, and commitment to a vision of ourselves as a worthy person, we can start to rewrite the story of our own self-concept.

I hope to see this for Nesta in the future. We see her begin to explore this is her relationships with Gwyn and Emerie, and to a certain extent Cassian. I think she has the hope for it, and some of the right people, and the willingness to keep trying even when it’s painful and dark. If I were her counselor, I would encourage her to look at the places where she gives others grace that she does not give herself, and to be curious about why. What actually is the value you want to uphold? Is it kindness? Then why are you the exception? And is that reason actually true?

Okay that’s it. Hope this was coherent. Happy Nesta Week!

#nestaweek2025 #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta archeron deserves better #disorganized attachment #attachment styles #c ptsd #prythian university

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neoplatinum · 1 year ago

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hold me tight - bts | kim dahyun

summary: maybe cupid could save us

pairing: dahyun x fem!reader

themes: angst, fluff, tension, use of flashbacks in italics, marriage counseling, reader insecurity, past physical violence (against original male character, not any member of twice), implied sex, some of twice!

wc: 7.2k

polished silverware, two table napkins, two sets of forks, and knives. a draped tablecloth, and the long wooden table stretching down the dining room. on two ends are two lost souls, once connected with bountiful joy and prosperity. now sat farther apart than the two ends of a colossal ship. barely stitched together by unspoken words and exhaustion.

"what time?" you dig into your steak, back and forth sliding it down the tender meat.

"2pm tomorrow. should i call your assistant?" dahyun digs at her roasted potatoes, a little sweet, just the way she likes it.

"no need, i'll be there." you counter, stabbing the slice of steak, digging into it. pushing the green peas a bit to the left, and sipping the wine. a delicacy truly.

"good." she says quietly, "pass me the pepper?" you look up, the bottle is in the middle.

the dmz line, you lean foward, grabbing a hold of the glass bottle, placing it into her hand.

"here."

"thank you."

the rest of the dinner is followed by the sounds of silverware, and only silverware.

dr. yoo jeongyeon, phd, lcpc

you stare at the plaque, gold serif lettering, bold face on top of a black rectangle, sitting directly in the middle of the edge of her desk. your loafers gently tapping the carpeted floor, in time with each tick of a second.

she looks confident, shoulders back and sinking into her leather chair. glasses perched on her nose, a montblanc in hand. eyes a little empty, but inviting, a little too inviting.

"thank you both for joining us today, first time?" dr. yoo starts, eyes taking a slow drift from dahyun to you.

dahyun's legs are tucked together, low heels and a brown suit. she leans forward at dr. yoo's question. "yes, first time."

a simple nod, and a scribble along her notepad. you tilt your head to the right.

"each session with me runs fifty minutes, no longer. if needed, it can be cut short." she says, placing some files away, shuffling paper away, and fixing her glasses. you both nod at the terms. "lovely, could i have you both introduce yourselves?" she continues, eyes back on you and dahyun.

you stare at dahyun.

"i'm dahyun, 26, a fashion designer and a wine enthusiast, lovely to meet you." dahyun stands up, offering a handshake. dr. yoo smiles lightly and shakes it.

"and you?"

"i'm dahyun's wife, 26, ceo and founder of future consultants llc, and a tennis enthusiast."

dr. yoo's eyes stare at you, but her pens moves quickly along the page.

dahyun stares at you, before looking back at her folded hands.

"thank you both, now could you both explain why you are here?" her eyes come back up, those glasses hanging so low is making you mad.

dahyun coughs into her hand.

"we need help." a little unsure, but a desperate plea. your foot stops tapping on the carpeted floor.

dr. yoo scribbles along a new line.

"and you?" the doctor stares at you. you sit up, fixing the buttons on your blazer.

"we're...not the same as we used to be." you say, pulling one leg over the other. dr. yoo nods at that, another line filled.

"alright, now, let me give you some insight on me. i'm dr. yoo jeongyeon, did my phd in human psychology, masters in counseling and bachelor's in neurology. and i'm a lcpc: licensed clinical professional counselor. you can say i'm a people enthusiast." she smiles lightly, dahyun laughs under her breath.

your foot goes back to tapping.

"let's get into it." she sets down the notepad. "could you tell me how you both met?"

"what's the maturity date for a treasury bond?"

"20 - 30 years, you seriously have to try harder, sam." you laugh, taking another sip of your beer. sam just grins and flips over a new flashcard.

"okay smarty pants, what are floating-rate notes?" sam taps the index card on the bar table. eyes a little playful, he always did like making you work for your reward.

"they're-"

"stop it ryan." behind you is the voice of a woman, her back hitting yours, nearly spilling your beer. you turn around, a man towering over her, hand on her wrist and his firm grip, stopping her. no matter how hard she tries to pull.

you signal sam.

"take your hand off her." you press down on his wrist, holding his arm in place. the woman stares at you and sam, bewildered eyes and still pulling against ryan's hold.

"fuck off." he spits in your face.

"yeah? let's see how your face looks after this pretty boy." you slam into his chest, him tumbling backwards, foot hitting the barstool and a loud thud hitting the floor. you spot the submariner on his wrist shining under the bar light, fuck.

sam's at the ready, hand on a switchblade, you signal him back, not him.

the woman gasps, hand immediately shooting her sore wrists, shit it looks bad. ryan's still on the group, and then he shoots up. hands at the ready to land a punch, weak form though. you sidestep him, letting him fall forward.

"daddy can't pay to fix your crooked nose?" you smirk at him, taunting him to do anything. his eyes ablaze as he tries again. what a foolish boy.

you let him try and land a left hook, before you start punching his jaw, one good liver punch and he topples over. damn, your jaw hurts too, men like him throw too much of their power into their punches.

"fuck, sam." you groan to your friend, hand trying to pop your jaw back into place. you do, letting out a low shout, before getting your stuff.

stay too long and then he'll call the cops, the last thing you need is another fine print on your academic file. you stumble forward, feeling blood dripping down the side of your head, cheeky bastard, he had rings on.

you barely manage to push the bar door, string of curses falling out of your lip, the cold air immediately frosting your breath. damn it all, and you left your beer half finished.

"excuse me!" the woman's voice carries from the door, and you can see her, urgently trying to get to you. "thank you so much back there."

she's trying to offer you some napkins from her clutch, all you can do it hope that liver punch suckered him to stay on the ground long enough for you to dissapear.

"you have anyone safe?"

"safe?"

you gesture a bit. "like a friend maybe? did you come alone?"

you lean to the side trying to get a glimpse of pretty boy, but he's no where in sight. a good thing. you can see sam though, shoving bills at the bartender, and grabbing jackets.

"no friends, i came with him." her hand goes back to her bruised wrist, yeah that looks awful. you're very glad you stepped in.

"listen, i need to leave now. i would love to do the whole 'thank you, you're welcome' pleasantries, but I don't know how long he'll stay down before he calls the cops."

you explain, seeing sam opening the bar door, urgent eyes calling for you to disappear into the night.

"could you take me home, i really have no other way to get back." you stare into the bar, oh pretty boy's up, shouting at a bartender. you need to exit NOW.

"okay, let's go. i know you're wearing heels, but keep up." you offer a hand, and disappear into the back alleyway. by the time you just turn around the corner at the end, you can hear the distant voice outside the bar.

you're finally in sam's beater car, an old hand-me-down from his grandma, with the girl from the bar in the backseat.

she keeps watching you from the mirror.

"where do you live?" you pull out of the back lot, she's still soothing her bruised wrist.

"eleanor court, upper east side." damn shit, of course she's rich too, loaded with daddy's money just like that dude you suckered punched. how you always manage being at the hands of rich people, you hope to find out soon, because this sucks.

the drive's pretty silent, sam's got his old 80s mixtapes playing from the car radio. and he's humming along as he taps on his passenger door, you're glad that at least one of you has a car.

"woah..." sam brings you out of your thinking. woah is correct, even sam can see it.

colonial style homes the size of manors down the perfectly paved roads. long outdoor lamp lights lining the street. lush bushes and trees lining the sides of the house. not a single police car in sight, you can even see fountains spouting water from a statue.

what a bunch of crap.

"dude, she's asleep." sam taps your shoulder, you quickly put his car in park. looking at her from the rear view, damn she is asleep, jacket covering her torso but her head leaning against the window.

damn, damn, damn.

one wrong HOA member being curious, and you can easily be thrown in jail for the rest of your life. you open your door, rushing to the backseat. opening the door, and placing your hand against her head to keep her body from falling out of the car.

"miss, we're home." she just curls into your hand. "sam, help me hold her up." he nods, using his bodyweight as a rest for the girl's body. you begin searching through her clutch, hopefully she has an id inside.

"kim dahyun.....501 eleanor court." you shove the id back into her clutch. "sam move." you grab a hold of her body, picking her body up. wrapping the jacket and clutch over top of her.

"stay in the car. i'll bring her in." you began walking down the eerily quiet neighborhood, goodness rich people are so pretentious. you struggle to open the gate. then you hear a low mechanic voice.

"hello, who are you?"

"hi, i'm just here to drop off a kim dahyun. she had an issue with some guy at the bar, and she needed someone to take her home." you speak into it, a clicking noise and then the metal box goes silent.

the large metal gates open, you step in, walking up to the front porch, pillars lining the wide entrance.

goodness, you need to get out of this neighborhood. the large wooden door opens and you see two people, a suited man and a maid. of course.

"miss dahyun?" the maid begans fussing over her, hand on her cheek, "oh my!" a loud gasp at the bruised wrist. you drop her into the leather couch.

"what happened?" the butler asks you, offering a towel at your dried blood.

you try your best to keep yourself from dirtying the house, both of them keep staring at you though.

"uh, some guy at the bar, ryan. he kept bruising her wrist, so i had to step in." you point at your head. the butler nods, and the maid begins inspecting the bruise.

"i told miss dahyun to stop seeing him." the butler explains, placing the jacket to cover her.

you nod, so this wasn't even the first time. the maid returns with soothing cream, applying the ointment over her bruised wrists. you stand idly by the couch, a little confused with what to do here.

you stare at dahyun's face, she's rather pretty is what you land on, before the man's voice brings you out of your focus.

"let me offer you a new shirt." you look down, and it does look like you just got into the ring with rocky, blood-dried splotches all over. the butler disappears before you can even say no.

with a folded new shirt, linen and italian, goodness these people have too much money, you shuffle into a bathroom.

changing into it quickly, eyeing all the towels and expensive soaps on the counter. you fix yourself up and exit, seeing the butler and maid still crowding around the girl.

"i, i really should leave. i'm sorry." the butler and maid are still trying to get you to stay, to offer some reward, but really all you want to do is leave this hellscape. unfamiliar faces, with unfamiliar mannerisms, its all too much.

"she saved me from a sleazy guy at a bar." dr. yoo jots it down.

"and you?"

"i, i guess i did?"

"you guess?"

"i, yes, i saved her from the sleazy guy." dr. yoo nods.

the ticking sound comes back clearer in your ear. the repetitive ticking feels like tumbling down a hill, imminent and quick swift death.

"let's move on then, how did you two start dating?"

"dahyun was insistent on paying me back for the bar, kept telling me she needed to." you offer.

dr. yoo nods, another scribble along the notepad. then she pulled the file from her desk, and two separate questionnaires werefilled out.

"and it says here, you both attended the same university." ever since dahyun found out you two attended the same university, she began urging you for dinner.

you tried very hard to say no, but in the quad, down the main academic path. she just kept finding you, like a needle in a haystick, she always managed to pick you out from the hundreds of students.

if she wasn't so nice about it, you might have considered it creepy.

"yes, brown." you nod.

"lovely school, my friend's alma mater." dr. yoo comments and lifts her head once more from the notepad.

"how's your sex life?"

you see dahyun's feet uncross and cross again. while you start tapping your foot again.

"we haven't done it," dahyun begins, "in a long while."

dr. yoo nods, and turns to you. "how does that make you feel?"

"i'm not sure."

dr. yoo nods again, dahyun's feet uncross and cross again. the clock's still ticking on the wall.

you are sure it's non-judgmental, it just makes you aggravated, like you're being lectured on how to love.

dahyun can't remember the last time you two have cherished each other. dinner's filled with delicious food, to cover the absence of enticing conversation.

being married to the point of small talk, has drained you both more than you wanted to admit.

"this is still the first session, so let's start with simple exercises. try and vocalize your appreciation for each other. this can be as simple as: i appreciate you doing the dishes today. remember, speaking the unspoken words can change your relationship for the better." dr. yoo stands up, offering you both a handshake and walking you both out her office.

"i have to get back to work." you comment, letting dahyun walk in front of you. she nods at that, you both are busy people, even though it's important to try and fix your breaking relationship, you both have jobs to do.

"i'll see you for dinner?" she says as you open her car door, holding a hand over her head as she sits.

"yes, dinner." she nods at you, wanting you to say more. you want to as well, a little unsure.

"thank you, for being here today." she starts, staring up into you, you smile lightly back at her, dahyun's still got that warm eye smile that makes your heart burst.

"you as well dahyun." you lean your head down a bit, "charlie, get her to her office safely." he nods from the rear view. and with that you close her door. watching the car roll away from the sidewalk.

it's weird to have to see a professional for marriage counseling, but in your heart, you do want to fix things with dahyun.

sweet dahyun who is always so concerned with everyone's wellbeing; often neglecting her own. the rest of the afternoon, you try and focus on work, feeling downright awful about how your relationship has disintegrated.

"dahyun? i'm home." you enter the brownstone, a little more excited to be home. she's in the kitchen, an adorable brown bear apron over top.

"hey, i'm making pasta tonight." she's smiling.

"need help?"

"no, i should be good. could you set the table?" you leave the kitchen, entering the wine pantry, grabbing one that you know she loves. as well as two glasses, a gift from her parents.

dahyun's walking out with bowls of pasta, surprised to see the bottle in hand.

you begin pouring them into the two glasses, passing one to her, she thanks you quietly, placing down the bowls, and returning to the kitchen. you follow after her, grabbing knives and forks and napkins.

she's busy with another dish, and you hum to yourself, cleaning the silverware while waiting for her.

"damn it. fuck fuck fuck." dahyun's hand jerks back against the pot, her hand instantly going to hold it. you drop the silverware in the sink, quick strides towards her. she burned herself with the pot.

"dahyun, let me see." there are tears in her eyes, and she's shaking her head, she's always been so dismissive of her own pain. you take her hand gently, looking at it. it's definitely bad, red skin over top, hot to the touch. "let's run it under cold water, okay?"

she nods, even though there's tears in her eyes, and all she wants to do is just shrink into herself.

you run the water cold, feeling for it before letting it run over her burned finger. the tears in her eyes are still there, threatening to spill out.

then dahyun cries out. "i'm so stupid, i can't even cook a simple dinner." her tears are falling, much like the water over the hurt finger. like letting the pain rain out from her heart.

"oh dahyun, no you aren't stupid, you never were." you hug her tightly, letting her head fall to your shoulders, quietly crying against your shirt. she cries even harder at that, an anguish cry out for help,

you feel your own tears spring up. how you hate seeing dahyun cry.

"how is it?" you ask, pulling her away, looking at the finger under the water. it's less red, still there but it looks better.

"hurts." she pouts.

"let me go grab some ointment, stay here okay?" you leave, turning down the hallway to the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for ointment cream to sooth the pain.

you return quickly, gently dabbing the cream over her finger with a q-tip. letting out a low hiss, and you apologize quickly, letting her relax a bit before continuing to spread it around.

"okay?" you step back, throwing away the q-tip.

"it's good, thank you." then she slips away to finish dinner. you stand by letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, with every bit of your heart, you hope that dahyun wants to work this out as much as you do.

"hello, come on in." dr. yoo's now a familiar face, always a warm if not stoic face. never showing signs of disinterest or much of an opinion, you begin to wonder what it takes to be a professional therapist.

"thank you." you let dahyun ahead of you, her sitting in the left armchair, while you sit on the right. fixing your blazer as you sit with one leg over the other. eyes watching dr. yoo in anticipation.

"how are you both doing?" she starts, that same montblanc in hand, a new shirt, dark blue and glasses hanging on her nose.

dahyun looks to you.

"we're doing okay." you offer, a little smile on your face.

"and you?" dr. yoo turns her head towards dahyun.

"we're doing better." dahyun fiddles with the band-aid over her finger. your eyes linger on it, a reminder of the small act of affection.

"lovely, last time you both mentioned that sexual intimacy had not happened in some time. has that changed since our last session?"

dahyun coughs into her hand, sinking into her armchair. you look away from her.

"no, it hasn't changed." dahyun speaks softly, like she's confessing a sin. you fold your hands over each other.

dr. yoo nods, another line written.

"how is work-life balance for you two?" dr. yoo stares into you, you sit up again.

"it's fine, the normal 9-6pm work day." dr. yoo jots that down. the clock continues to tick in your ears.

"what about you?" dahyun stares at the floor.

"it's okay, usually after work i'll unwind with some wine or television series." dahyun's always been so absorbed with her dramas, often asking you to join her to watch them. you often decline with the pre-tense of overflowing work from the day.

"ah yes, you mentioned you are a wine enthusiast." dahyun nods, wine has always been something she indulged in, you don't share the same love for the drink. finding it all a bit too much for yourself.

"could you tell me how that started?" your eyes go wide a bit, you never bothered to ask dahyun that, just assuming she's always enjoyed it.

"my late father used to own a winery, when i was able to start drinking he started training me as a sommelier." you knew of mr. kim's obsession with wine.

multiple wine cellars across his basement, walls lined with rows of wooden aisles, each row lined with bottles filling the basement. often times you snuck into the basement with dahyun sharing kisses and giggles away from the prying eyes of her parents.

"sorry to hear that mrs. kim, that's lovely to hear that you still has a passion for wine." dr. yoo continues, letting the words fly across the notepad. you uncross and cross the other leg over.

"and you mentioned you were a tennis enthusiast, how did that start?" dr. yoo's eyes are still on the notepad, pen quickly running across the page. you lean forward a bit.

"my friend sam, used to sneak us into the tennis bubble after work, when all the people left the country club. and we would play for hours." dr. yoo nods, more lines filling across the page.

"you never told me it was because of sam, you said it was just a hobby you had." dahyun comments, eyes on you, a little suprised at the conversation.

"i couldn't afford tennis equipment, too expensive." you explain.

dr. yoo continues to write as you and dahyun talk.

"but all those times you came to the country club, you offered to pay for the tab." dahyun leans into you a bit, you let your eyes wander over the name plaque on dr. yoo's desk.

"had to work overtime to pay it off." dahyun sinks back into her chair.

"and dahyun, you seem suprised, how does this make you feel?"

she looks back at her hands.

"i feel awful, i didn't know it costed that much for you." you return your gaze to her, watching the anguish in her eyes.

you wish you didn't feel ashamed about your financial situation, but every second spent with the kims was another jab at your own social status.

"i'm sorry dahyun, i kept it from you because i didn't want you to treat me differently." you shrink a bit, pulling the blazer a bit tighter. eyes falling to the floor naturally.

"and i'm sorry too, for never noticing." dahyun speaks it softly, you barely register the words.

you just nod, letting her hand hold yours. you can't bring yourself to look at her, too ashamed that you feel like you have to hide yourself from the woman you devoted your life to.

you begin to think about the early days of dating dahyun, days filled with anticipation of seeing her. constantly checking your account for how much you could expend on your paycheck, often stretching it for a simple date.

often on the weekends, the kim's visited the country club, the managers all fussing over them, pampering them with free items, as if the rich needed more free item, it used to make you angry.

but never dahyun, a sweet girl built upon integrity and honesty, always offering to pay. treating you with respect that most members of the country would never do, them often throwing towels or other trash at you to pick up. and with gritted teeth, you always do, remembering you needed this job.

"so you both met often at the country club?" dr. yoo cuts into your thinking, pulling you out of your memories. one's that are filled with happiness and anger, all in the same bunch. anger at the rich, but happiness at seeing that beautiful smile in person.

"yes, i worked there, and dahyun's family were well known members there." you explain, squeezing dahyun's hand in yours.

"2 o'clock, the kims." your head snaps up from the tennis magazine you're reading. and there you can see your supervisor and your supervisor's supervisor crowding around the kim's.

especially dahyun's mother, she was always more prone to fawning at the attention that the staff would shower them in.

"stand up!" you read from your supervisor's mouth, then he goes back to smiling fakely at the kim's probably hoping to pick at their pockets later when they're far too tipsy from all the champagne they bathe in.

"one day i'm going to strangle him." you side whisper to sam as you both bow at the family.

"not if i get to him first." sam side whispers back, smiling at the kim's. continue to bow at them as they walk across the lobby to the courts. squeaky new tennis shoes on the marble floor.

"hey! you work here!" that familiar voice., you've been trying to avoid her since she found you in the quads hanging out with sam. insistently trying to get you to let her pay you back for the bar.

"hi miss, glad to see you are doing better." sam walks away, citing a need for a bathroom break, but you know better with the way he playfully walks away.

"you still haven't said yes to letting me pay you back."

"because you don't have to pay me back, i just did a nice deed."

"and you should be rewarded." you just sink back into your stool. letting her lean over the desk. "well as kim dahyun, a prized patron here, i order you to follow me to the courts."

"the courts?"

"yes, i want to play." you stand up, heading into the back to get that signature tennis racket that she loves so much, specific engraving of her name etched on the neck of the racket. "grab another one!" she shouts from the desk. you grab a generic one, one that still costed way more than a month's paycheck. placing both racquets under your arm.

"here's what we're going to do, three games, if i win three, i get to pay you back for the bar, dinner on me.

"miss dahyun, that really isn't neccessary."

"it's my wish, and you can't deny a patron's wish here."

so you get beaten, pretty badly, 0 - 3. with you sweating and falling on your back, breathing heavy as dahyun grins from the other side of the court. letting out a loud laugh.

"dinner on me, i'll drag you there myself if i have to!" dahyun's still bouncing a tennis ball with her racket while you recover your breath, all you can do is lift an arm to give her a thumbs up.

"well i am afraid our time is up for today, please schedule a session again soon." dr. yoo offers a light smile, and walks you both out of the door. letting the heavy door close behind you. you look at dahyun, she hasn't looked at you since the confession.

you walk her to her car, "dahyun, i really am sorry for hiding it from you. i just didn't want money to affect us."

she stares at your blazer, it's buttoned, the same button she stitched on a couple weeks ago.

"but it does, doesn't it?"

"money?" you stop to think about it, as much as you tried to let it not be a determining factor in your relationship with dahyun.

it really does bleed into your relationship, leaving you paralyzed with fear that she'll leave you.

when you first met the kim's for an official dinner introduced as dahyun's girlfriend, you spent hours with sam trying to find a decent hand-me-down outfit for the dinner.

they were not impressed to say the very least, you had no proper dinner manners. confused your soup spoon with the dessert spoon. nearly knocking wine onto mr. kim.

"i think it did, for a very long time." you open the door for dahyun, letting her in, hand covering her head as she sits inside. you walk over to the driver's side, sitting inside. "i wanted to prove myself to your family, but mostly to you."

"you didn't need to prove anything to me." she says, hands gently grabbing yours. you feel your heart sink a bit.

"it sucked, seeing all your friends get gifted lavish trips and designer bags, while all i could afford to do was cook you homemade dinners." you explain, thinking back your university days, meeting dahyun's friend.

"but that's what they didn't have." she counters. "all the homemade gifts, it was just gifts with enough value to hold each other over."

you really did try your best, with limited budget and often asking for favors. you did your best to offer the best anniversary, valentine's, and birthday gifts.

all of which were intended to express your love for her, spending hours decorating homemade cakes, learning how to cook dinners for two. renting cars to go on road trip, all of which you happily experienced with dahyun.

"i wanted to be someone you could confidently show off to your friends." you think back to dahyun's birthday parties.

open bars, waiters and a massive table filled with gifts for her. all you could do was stare in wonder at the exuberant gifts, all the while you would shrink into yourself, trying to hide your embarrassment watching her open your gifts.

"do you? did you...resent me for it? having money i mean." dahyun drops the question you've been trying so hard to ignore. it's been plaguing your mind lately, how you think about how hard you tried, giving your all into your work for an ounce of validation from the kim's.

validation that you never seem to get.

"no, never. never you, you were the only person i didn't resent." you smile at her, genuinely, and she smiles back. you're glad you met her, even if the circumstances have made your life complicated.

"for the record, i was always confident in showing you off, because i knew who you were in your heart." you give her hand a squeeze as you drive home.

"another hour please, i'll pay triple." you say, staring at dr. yoo.

"i'm sorry mrs. kim, but i have another appointment." she stands up, trying to walk you out of the room, and when the door opens, there stands two woman on the other side.

"sorry for the delay, mrs. and mrs. park."

"no worries, dr. yoo, sana and i don't mind." the two woman nod at you, before sitting in the same chairs that you and dahyun were sitting just seconds ago.

"i'm sorry mrs. kim, but really, we don't have more time today, schedule another appointment soon." and dr. yoo closes her heavy wooden door.

you nod solemnly, "dr. yoo, i'm sorry for my behavior." you explain, a bit embarrassed now.

"no need, i understand. go check up on mrs. kim." she just nods and gives your shoulder a pat, closing the door again.

now you stand in the office lobby, with a crying dahyun in a chair.

you sink to your knees, eyes staring up at her. her hair like curtains to her face, concealing the quiet sniffles and sobs that she's letting out.

"dahyun, darling?"

the tears keep falling, staining her dress pants, you hold her shaky hands. as she speaks to you, holding her breath here and there to control her emotions. "you never told me."

"i know, i didn't want to burden you." rubbing at her hands to sooth the pain in her heart.

"but isn't that what we're here for, to shoulder each other's burdens." she cries louder, a couple in the office look over, but you don't care right now. you brush the tears away.

"we are, i just, i didn't know how to tell you."

"but he, he did all that to you, and you didn't tell me. he's my own father."

"i know, i am sorry."

"let's go home please, i want to talk at home." you nod, letting her walk to the car, following her footsteps closely.

dr. yoo welcomes you both into her office, getting familiar with the diptyque roses candle burning lowly on the desk.

"mrs. and mrs. kim, please have a seat." dahyun smiles as she sits down, a new pair of glasses hanging on her nose.

"new glasses?" you ask.

dr. yoo smiles at that, pushing up the glasses. "yes, new! just got them yesterday. you smile, dr. yoo has become a familiar and friendly face with you and dahyun. almost like she's a friend, almost.

"shall we get started?" she looks up at you two, that same notepad in hand and the montblanc.

you both nod in sync.

"so, how have you both been?"

"good." dahyun smiles a bit, letting her arm lay along the armchair, eyes brighter than usual. you smile at that.

"and you?"

"we're doing better, i'm happier." dr. yoo write it along a new line, a light smile on her face.

"that's lovely to hear, could you explain why?" dr. yoo picks her head up, watching you explain how life has been. there's been a shift at home, dahyun and you having more time to go on dates instead of tensed dinners filled with the sounds of silverware.

"we spend more time together, having lunch together, and dinner's have become fun to cook together." dr. yoo nods at that, more words written along the notepad, you share a warm gaze at dahyun. her eyes smiling in that way you love so much.

"i haven't asked this before, but how are the in-laws?"

you immediately frown, thinking about the pretentious man that was dahyun's father. a dicator in the family, ruling with an iron fist and often giving you trouble for growing up "different." as he so nicely put it.

you often remember dinner's with the kims filled with biting your tongue and just letting snide comments go by, even dahyun's mother had no say whenever he made uncomfortable jokes.

"i don't think dahyun's parents liked me much, especially her father." you sit back, continuing your thoughts about the demanding man.

"could you expand on that?"

"i didn't grow up rich, which was the biggest thing he disliked, he didn't think i was a good fit for dahyun." you explain, often remembering the side comments that her father would make when dahyun couldn't hear.

"and did you know about this?" dr. yoo turns to dahyun.

"yes. he was adamant about me breaking up with her but i never did." that you didn't know. you always assumed that it was just sly comments towards you, but never did mr. kim outward display his disdain towards you to dahyun.

you button up your jacket. dr. yoo continues to write across her page, leaving you both to sit and think about dahyun's words.

"understood, do you think dahyun's parents affected your relationship with dahyun?" you think about the question, how loaded it all is, you cannot even begin to explain how suffocating being around him was.

family dinners spent trying to escape into the bathroom so he would stop pestering you about your business ventures, or the capital that you had under your belt. you just shudder whenever it becomes holiday seasons.

fearful of the power that mr. kim had over you, one of his last wishes before he passed away was upending his entire gambling debt onto you.

it had become a hold over you, that he would only support the love that you had for dahyun if you were able to help pay off his debt. it became a huge burden on your shoulders, conjuring up a plan to reach financial freedom and success without hindering dahyun's future.

one that you wanted to support from day one, pushing her towards her goal of becoming a fashion designer, every day you suffered at the hands of her father, letting his debt take over your life, all to prove your devotion to dahyun.

and it hurt, to shoulder this weight alone, you always had shouldered the weight of the world on your shoulders to begin with.

"yes, unfortunately. dahyun's father, he. he told me that by taking on his gambling debt before he died, that he would allow me to marry dahyun." you explain, feeling your shoulders release tension.

dr. yoo continues to write fervently, eyes on the page, but a slight nod here and there. you can feel dahyun's gaze on your face, one in disbelief and utter shock. you turn to look at her, meeting her blank eyes.

more than anything, you beg for dahyun to understand, to really understand where you are coming from. a whole life you lived having to make opportunities for yourself, little to no support from others. fighting tooth and nail just to prove that you are worth it. that you are deserving of success and love.

"were you aware she took on your father's debt?" dr. yoo looks to dahyun, not missing a beat or letting any inflection slip in her tone.

"i wasn't. i wasn't even aware he had debt to begin with. what? sorry. um, what? no sorry, how much?" dahyun turns to you, trying to understand all the information that has just been dumped onto her.

"50 million." you sigh, just thinking about the figures. spending late nights calculating interest, and ways to even pay off the large sum of money.

"50? million?" dahyun stands up suddenly, you stand up too. watching her bewildered eyes scan across the room, trying to control her breathing, watching the clock, watching the blue in the reds in the carpet. holding herself as she walks out of the room.

you stare at the open door, the sight of dahyun turning and sinking into a chair.

dr. yoo stands up.

"mrs. kim, perhaps we should end this session here today. dahyun seems to be shutting down."

you and dahyun are standing on both ends of the table, her eyes filled with tears as she glares at you.

"you don't think i recognize money-obsessed? you think i can't recognize my father turning you into him? that's all i can see! our marriage is falling apart and you have become my father and i've become my own mother!"

"dahyun, please, all i wanted was to marry you, he forced his hand, i didn't know what else to do." you can feel yourself shaking a bit, your heart racing as you both stand on opposite ends of the room.

"you should have told me." dahyun arms are crossed as she stares you down.

"i didn't want to tarnish the image of your father. i just wanted to love you, and if that was the final condition to marry you, i would do it.." you throw your arms around, frustrated with all this confrontation.

"his gambling debt costed us years of our marriage, can't you see? all this time you wanted to prove yourself to him, he just used you to fix his own problems." dahyun uncrosses her arms, voice reverberating around the large dining room.

"i thought, i thought it would, make him okay with me." your hands drop to your face as you cry into your hands. dahyun stops and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you, holding you tightly.

"oh darling, i wish you didn't care so much for him opinion." she softly rubs your hair, rubbing circles into the back of your chest as you cry freely. for the first time in a long time, you feel the exhaustion, sadness, yearning all come crashing through your body.

"i wish i didn't too." through long cries in between you finally vocalize it.

"but you love me? isn't that why you did all this?" she questions, a thought thats been plaguing her mind. do you still love her? do you still have the same passion for her you once declared openly to the world? do you still mean each vow you said to her as your hands held hers?

"i do, more than anything else in the world, i love you. my words can only show so much of it." you lift your head up, wiping her tears as she wipes yours.

a small smile on her lips, it's all so stupid.

"show me." she stops crying for a bit, eyes glimmering with hope. she stares at you, in that way you love so much.

"show you?" you try and stop the tears, getting a clearer view of her face.

"show me how much you love me." she says crashing her lips into yours, pulling you forward, your feet nearly stumbling as you wrap your arms around her waist. "show me."

she whispers against your lips, like a spell, you nod and grab a hold of her, rushing you both into your bedroom. you try and show her, that the passion you have for her has always been there, and always will.

"mrs and mrs. kim!" dr. yoo invites you in, a warm light shining into the room. you both get seated, while dahyun lets go of your hand.

"i know last time, we had a bit of an outburst, how has that been?" dr. yoo stares at you both, notepad in hand.

"we resolved it." dahyun says confidently.

"resolved it?" she stares at dahyun. dahyun just nods.

"and you? what do you think?"

"we resolved it." you nod back, smiling at dahyun.

"alright, that's lovely to hear. so to follow up, how is sexual intimacy going?" dr. yoo notes the light blush on your faces, unwilling to look at her or even each other.

"it's, it's um, it's good." dahyun starts and coughs a bit, shuffling her feet.

"and you?"

"it's good. very good." you reply, and dahyun slaps your arm, trying to get you to shut up. "oh i see." dr. yoo writes along a new line of her notepad. eyes reviewing her notes so far, comparing previous sessions with this one.

"is there more we should discuss?" dr. yoo comments, eyes lifting off the page again, a light smile upon her face.

"no, i don't think so." dahyun nods at your words, you smile at her. and she shares that same eye smile that you love so much right back.

"right then, well, these sessions are on a as-needed basis. so let me say this in the nicest way possible. i hope we never have to meet in this room again. although my door is always open." dr. yoo gives you both a wink as she ushers you both outside. you wrap your arm around dahyun's shoulder, a little smile on your face.

you hold onto dahyun just a little tighter.

a/n: genuinely had so much trouble with this fic, but it has come to fruition so i'm happy regardless! had to do research on marriage counseling and i hope it is obvious but this is fictional and i am not a licensed therapist so there will be inaccuracies. also shoutout to @cry4mina who listened to me word vomit my troubles with this fic <3 please listen to the song as well as look up the meaning of the song!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!!

#dahyun x reader #twice dahyun #dahyun twice #kim dahyun #twice x you #twice x reader #twice #kpop imagines #neoplatinum

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coochiequeens · 2 months ago

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This is why no nation should refuse migrant women and children.

Dr Salome Mbugua said most women identify with physical violence but don't identify with sexual violence

By Karen Creed

An organisation which supports migrant women affected by crime said that it has witnessed a rise in those seeking support who are exposed to gender-based violence.

AkiDwA said there is a "huge" increase in migrant women and girls who are subjected to harm and who are contacting them.

It is impacting women from many countries and of all ages, including students and young girls, according to AkiDwA's Chief Executive, Dr Salome Mbugua.

"We have seen an increase in the number of women seeking support in both Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) and domestic violence," she said. "We have almost 6,000 women who live in this country who have been subjected to FGM," she said.

The organisation is also supporting many women who are affected by violence in the home and those in early enforced marriages.

One of their tasks is raising awareness among migrant women about what constitutes violence. "Most women identify with physical violence but don’t identify with sexual violence," she said. She also outlines aspects of domestic violence where women can’t access money and are deprived in this way.

Women's Aid, which provides support to victims of domestic violence, said, on average, 40% of the women who contact them through their face-to-face services are from outside Ireland.

"So, proportionate to the migrant population in the country, that's considerably higher," explained Sarah Benson, Chief Executive of Women’s Aid. She explains how their circumstances are often more precarious. "Of course, their vulnerability and circumstances where they might be subjected to domestic, sexual or other forms of gender-based violence can be higher," she said.

Sarah Benson is Chief Executive of Women's Aid

In some cases, where the women are at risk from a partner or their former partner their children are also suffering harm. She also warns that a lack of knowledge of what constitutes a crime can prevent victims from coming forward.

"If there are countries where, for example, there isn't strong legislation or sanctions for domestic violence or other forms of sexual violence, it can normalise and minimise that and perhaps make it less likely that somebody might be able to access safety or justice".

She also describes the difficult situations migrant women can find themselves in where "if they don't speak the language" and they are being subjected to coercive control. "You are lied to about your rights and entitlements, or you're simply not exposed to the fact that there is help."

Women’s Aid phone line currently offers help in 240 languages. Last year it supported women in over 30 languages. After English, the most calls were through Polish followed by Portuguese.

In recent years there has also been more focus on providing training to frontline services to ensure that professionals in certain sectors are familiar with harmful cultures and practices. AkiDwA is tasked with providing this nationwide.

"The cultural norms are one of the key challenges that service providers face," Dr Mbugua explained. "We have women who require support from many different backgrounds. She highlights how most of their referrals come from hospitals, social workers and healthcare professionals. "We support them so they can handle issues coming into their hospitals."

Those issues include the many cases of female genital mutilation, a cruel practice that is still prevalent in parts of Africa, Asia and the Middle East. Currently around 1,600 girls are at risk of FGM in Ireland, according to Dr Mbugua.

The support that these victims need is both psychological and physical, with surgery and counselling seen as integral to their recovery. Victims of FGM in Ireland are currently on waiting lists for surgery of up to 10 months.

She is calling for more education and advocacy around FGM and other forms of gender-based violence in schools. "Many schools are not aware of this violence," she explained.

There is also despondency among those who support vulnerable women over the current system for those entering direct provision.

Sarah Benson describes how the women and girls may be subject to sexual exploitation or domestic violence. She wants to see more recognition that "this is happening within systems" to make sure that there are safe spaces for women and children and "recognising that before they ever arrive in this country."

She said female migrants, particularly those who are fleeing conflict, are "disproportionately likely to have experienced sexual violence" on their journey here. "So, receiving them into standard direct provision centres is simply not acceptable. I don't think yet that the system properly recognises the gendered nature of migration into this country and is has quite a lot that it could do to improve, specifically, the response to women and children."

The Chief Executive of Ruhama, Barbara Condon, echoes these concerns. "A key difficulty is accessing safe and appropriate accommodation for victims of human trafficking for sexual exploitation," she said. She also speaks about how stigma and shame associated with sexual violence and exploitation can be a barrier to seeking support.

However, the charity has seen an increase in the number of women and girls contacting their services in the last few years. Early indications show there has been a further rise in the first few months of this year. Approximately 90% of the women that Ruhama support are migrant women.

According to AkiDwA, migrants are feeling safer in Ireland compared to two years ago when tensions flared on the streets around immigration. However, safety behind closed doors remains a massive issue for many of these women and girls.

The Minister for Justice has said a priority is ensuring that Cuan, the agency set up to tackle domestic sexual and gender-based violence, has the resources required to meet the demands of "diverse" and "new communities".

#AkiDwA #Migrant women and sex based violence #Women's Aid #Ireland #Women’s Aid phone line currently offers help in 240 languages #FGM in Ireland

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amara-gaelthorne · 2 months ago

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Is it really wise for people who dealt with religious pressure/trauma and coercion or indoctrination from Christianity/Catholicism to Satanism/demonalatry without any processing or true inner-work on healing or counseling or therapy?

That is a very wise and important question, and the short answer is: not really—at least, not without caution, self-awareness, or some form of grounded inner work.

When someone has endured religious trauma, coercion, or indoctrination, particularly from Christianity or Catholicism where guilt, fear, and eternal punishment are often used as tools of control, there's a real risk that moving directly into Satanism or demonolatry—without processing the psychological wounds—can sometimes become a reaction rather than a genuine path.

Why it's risky without processing:

Unprocessed trauma seeks expression. Many people unconsciously swing from one extreme to another—seeking power, rebellion, or the "forbidden" as a way to reclaim autonomy. But if this step is taken before healing the underlying fear, shame, or identity confusion, the new path may not feel stable or authentic. It can become performative, or even retraumatizing.

Satanic and demonolatry paths demand emotional maturity. These aren’t shock-value belief systems (at least not when practiced seriously). They often require nuanced thinking, self-sovereignty, and an ability to sit with uncomfortable truths. If someone's still stuck in religious guilt or moral absolutism, they may carry those very frameworks into their new practice—just in reverse.

Co-opting symbols of “the enemy.” For someone raised to fear demons or Satan, diving into those very symbols without spiritual processing might bring subconscious fear or conflict later. There’s power in embracing what you were taught to fear—but that should be conscious, not just reactive.

That said, here's what can make the journey healthier:

Therapy or trauma-informed counseling. Especially from someone familiar with religious trauma or spiritual abuse. These professionals help unpack the control structures and internalized guilt systems.

Journaling, shadow work, or inner child work. These help identify why you’re drawn to certain paths or entities—are you reclaiming your power or avoiding your pain?

Time and patience. There’s no race. Just because someone feels done with their old religion doesn’t mean they must immediately replace it. Exploring beliefs is sacred work.

Meeting others with shared experience. Hearing how others navigated the shift—from religious trauma into witchcraft, Luciferianism, or left-hand path practices—can be incredibly grounding and validating.

And above all:

The motive matters. If someone’s coming into Satanism or demonolatry from a place of rage, rebellion, or needing to feel “in control” again, it’s not inherently wrong—but it’s important to know that, so they can grow beyond it. If they’re coming from a place of genuine resonance, attraction, and alignment, after reflection and some healing, then that path can be tremendously empowering.

#witch #witchcraft #witches of tumblr #witch community #witchblr #occult #occultism #demons #psychology

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viviresisti · 4 months ago

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what r ur opinions on youth liberation?

hoping I understood the question as it is quite general

I think the nuclear (and hetero-patriarchal) family model is fundamentally limiting for all people involved, especially women and youth - meaning children and adolescents (especially girls, once again).

The power that parents have over their children is deeply detrimental to their freedom and development. Violence against children is still used as an educational method, a widely accepted one, and lots of parents still consider their kids as property or, in the best case scenario, an extension of themselves. Getting out of abusive households is practically impossible, especially when economic means are lacking (and these are often the most critical situations).

In the past, I have advocated for practical measures (many of which were actually adopted in my hometown) in order to help young people gain autonomy and freedom, one of these was keeping high schools open during the afternoon (which isn't common in my country) with both organized and self-managed activities (tutoring, study rooms, psychological counsel, book exchange) in order to give kids in difficult situations a safe place for a few hours and also seek the counsel of people who could help them.

I was raised in an extremely liberal manner, my parents always treated me with respect and they managed to make me understand my responsibilities throughout life by talking to me in an age appropriate manner but never asserting their authority as adults, just as more experienced people. I'm really grateful but I realize that it's unrealistic to expect that all parents raise their kids well (despite it being their responsibility), which is why I talked about nuclear family in the beginning, I believe that true freedom can only be achieved by community.

#feminism #radblr #radical feminism #radical feminists do interact #radical feminist safe

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lollystocks · 1 year ago

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Therapy for the Dead and Buried

A Danny Phantom x The Bright Sessions Crossover

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 6 - Runaway

Summary: Alone and in hiding, Danny is sent to mandatory therapy. It's a bit... strange. And unusual.

Notes: First chapter of a multific! Should be relatively friendly to those unfamiliar with The Bright Sessions, as it's mostly Danny's POV.

AO3

“New patient. Session one. Male, seventeen, no known history of psychological counseling. Referred by school for ‘antisocial behavior’, but no examples given, and strong comments were made about his, quote�� ‘unsettling vibes.’ Condition unknown.”

It was a very ordinary-looking room.

Danny wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but "boring" hadn't really occurred to him.

The office of Dr. Bright was reasonably spacious, with pure white walls and a thick baby blue carpet. A single sash window overlooked the park, and before it sat a laminate desk - almost certainly IKEA - with precisely organized trays of papers and stationery. No photos or trinkets adorned it. Not even a Newton's cradle, disappointingly.

Towards the center of the room sat two small sofas - firm looking, upholstered in dark blue vinyl. The hospital type, designed for ease of cleaning up bodily fluids. Plump-looking cushions softened their corners. A low coffee table sat between them, sporting a small succulent and a large box of tissues.

Danny had chosen the sofa which faced the window and door, with his back to the blank wall. He got the impression that he'd made the wrong choice, somehow. He didn't give a shit.

The doctor was looking at him, one manicured eyebrow just a micrometer higher than the other. The silence stretched on, awkwardly.

"Um. Sorry. Could you repeat the question, please?"

"Of course. I asked if you knew why you were here, James?"

Danny stared out of the window, into the cloudy sky. There were many ways to answer that question. Classic shrink tactic, probably, to suss out his brain. Most of the answers that came to mind were smartassery - because this is where your office is. Because the bus brought me here. Because of human evolution. Because I'd get kicked out of my school if I didn't come.

What impression did he want to give her? Who did Danny James want to be now? What was most useful to him?

He looked at the doctor's face. "Because people are unsettled by me. I can't help it, but they are. And they want me to stop. Unsettling them, that is. And you're meant to teach me, like, body language techniques or something."

Doctor Bright settled into the sofa a little, like a question had been answered, or a data point obtained. She smoothed the creaseless paper in her lap.

"And what makes you think that?"

"The whole, 'James, there's clearly something deeply fucking wrong with you, and it's freaking out your classmates. Get help,' thing kinda clued me in, Doc."

"I assume you're paraphrasing."

"I'm not, actually. F-bomb and everything. Scout's honor."

"I'm surprised that your principal would use such language with you, James. That must have been disconcerting."

Danny stared at her. That was an unexpected response. "You saying you believe me? That he said that?"

"I do, James. My job here isn't to be a skeptic, or to 'find out the truth'. I'm here to listen, offer advice, and help you learn some skills and techniques to redirect your own behavior and mentality as you wish." The doctor adjusted her glasses. "So yes, James, I believe you. And as your therapist, I will believe whatever you tell me in this room, no matter how... outlandish, you may feel it is. That is my job here."

Danny couldn't help but smile at that, just a little. "That's a sweet sentiment Doctor, genuinely, but you can't mean that seriously. You must get all sorts of compulsive liars or straight-up crazies through here, there's no way you just decide to believe them all."

"Let me rephrase, then. While it's true that many of my patients will tell me things that they know not to be true, I find it best to start from a place of belief. If I decide, after getting to know them, that they are in fact serially lying to me, or are mistaken, I adjust accordingly. But until I can know that? I believe them."

"So if a crackhead told you they could fly. You'd just believe them?"

"I would, yes. Up and until I come to the irrefutable conclusion that they are lying or mistaken. Does that surprise you?"

Danny scoffed. "Yeah, that surprises me. It's nuts. There's no way you can do your job properly like that."

Doctor Bright smiled. "I've found it works best. For one thing, any patients I get through this door will come to learn that, no matter how strange or unusual it may be, they can tell me. I will not judge them, or turn them away, or have them committed."

There was a pause.

"So. You want me to tell you how ' strange and unusual' I am."

"No, James. I want you to tell me whatever you wish to tell me. This is an introductory session, I just want to get to know you."

"Specifically, you want me to tell you outlandish things about myself. Things no one else would believe. Things that make others scared of me."

"James, I merely-"

"Nope. Bye. Tell Principal Khan I failed at therapy, I guess."

He grabbed his backpack, and left.

“End of session one. Patient left abruptly.”

Chapter 2 here

Masterpost here

#danny phantom #the bright sessions #dpcaw24 #danny phantom crossover #prompt: runaway #fanfic #my fanfic #lolly talks #tftdab

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angelicshifts · 1 month ago

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🪐 my doctor who desired reality .ᐟ

don't know if i love this so i may edit it in the future and if you shift to doctor who PLEASE be my friend!

a little bit bout me...

prudence crawford. twenty-six years old. sagittarius. former social worker. counsellor at coal hill. strawberry blonde. five foot seven. former ballerina. bares a striking resemblance to amelia pond. the doctor's companion. loved by few, loathed by most. child of davros. technically his clone in a very fucked up way. the hybrid. lord president rassilon's biggest hater. unraveler of time. allegedly! the therapist friend except i'm an actual therapist. the exterminator. i did not come up with this title. the master's wife. i bagged a baddie ik.

my backstory...

my mother gave birth to me in a mental hospital. that's all i knew about my biological family. she had me and seemingly vanished off the face of the earth. unit was involved at some point. my mother's stories and her disappearance raised many red flags, but there was nothing wrong with me. i appeared to be a completely ordinary human being.

obviously, this wasn't the case.

turns out, my mother wasn't insane. she was telling the truth. she was abducted, experimented on, displaced in time and came back pregnant with me.

we know kovarian wasn't satisfied after the whole river song fiasco. we also know that davros has been trying to create the hybrid for ages. let's just say their agendas aligned for a split second and it resulted in my existence. this is where the whole bearing a striking resemblance to amy pond comes into play. the doctor suspects that kovarian may have used remnants of amy's dna to some extent when creating me.

i have always been a very peculiar child. a troublemaker if you will. i had this "imaginary" friendly snake (turned out to be colony sarff) who whispered things in my ear. guiding me to make the worst possible decisions i could. you can imagine why i never got adopted.

i always struggled with human emotions. i wasn't void of them. i just experienced feelings differently, and that always pissed off the grownups around me. i ended up pursuing psychology, wanting to understand why people behaved the way they did, and because of the situation my mother was in.

i went into social work because i wanted to help children like me. i wanted to be there for them the way no one was for me. it ended up being more triggering than fullfilling, so i accepted a counseling position at coal hill. this is where i met the doctor. though, it wasn't the first time we had met, not really.

remember listen? yeah, the kid under the blanket was me. told ya. trouble maker. not that i remembered it very vividly. suppressing emotions plays a trick on your memories, folks.

playlists...

[self] dear prudence by siouxsie and the banshees. child psychology by black box recorder. nobody escapes by mother mother. call me by empress of. mad world by palaye royale. sidelines by phoebe bridgers. orphan by holy wars. where is my mind? by yoav. experiment on me by halsey. angry by mars argo. let down by radiohead. shinigami eyes by grimes.

[w/ the doc] how big, how blue, how beautiful by florence + the machine. starman by sharon van etten. across the universe by jim sturgess. dream sweet in sea major by miracle musical. ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space by spiritualized. alright by superglass. door by caroline polachek. birds of a feather by billie eilish. clocks by coldplay. saturn by sleeping at last.

[ship] step on me by the cardigans. the diner by billie eilish. eve by kat cunning. crimson and clover by joan jett and the blackhearts. la vie en rose by louis armstrong. bring me to life by evanescence. blue and you by mad honey. wicked game by chris isaak. kitty can by the bee gees. honey by halsey. wet dream by wet leg. you already know by evita. what is love? by the red pill. if this world were mine by marvin gaye. heat lightning by mitski.

kodence tropes...

forbidden love. stalker with a crush. morally grey × morally greyer (but trying). strangers to lovers. lovers to enemies. enemies to lovers. lovers to something else entirely. abduction is love (it's not). tending to each other's wounds in a very homoerotic way. star crossed lovers. sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night for cuddles. secret relationship. simp × flirt. the villain falls first. loads of emotional repression. messy timeline of events. she burnt a star to keep me warm once. it's the thought that counts? time travel shenanigans. hypnosis.

p.s. i do NOT glorify this relationship we're so fucked up.

relationships...

danny pink. we met at west country children's home when i got transferred there at like 6/7 years old. i was a a troubled kid. he kept me grounded. he's like a brother to me. we kinda lost contact after he got adopted. but we reconnected as adults. after he came back from the war i suggested he should try teaching and helped him get the job at coal hill.

@kriskywalker . we were at the same orphanage when we were very little. i have loads of pictures of us as kids. we were inseparable. they got adopted. i got rehomed. they found me years later. they're my best friend. i would kill for them. studied art history. works at the british museum.

clara oswald. started off on the wrong foot. rivals, kind of. very briefly. i was suspicious about her from the get go. she seemed familiar but i couldn't place where from. she thought i was competition when she started seeing danny. uh... no? that's like my idiot brother. i'm just trying to make sure you're good enough for him. we're in a very weird situation. she wants to stop traveling with the doctor, but she still wants him to care for her. i'm a new companion. i know she wants to make sure i'm good enough for him, but she's also very territorial. their bond is kind of intimidating too. alexa play girl so confusing by charlie xcx.

the doctor. fuck if i know what's going on here. i call him out on his bullshit. he kinda likes it. he knows i'm not right, as in not human, but doesn't know the extent of it. i'm like a puzzle he's trying to figure out. do i know this? not really. it should be fun when i find out. he also thinks he's gonna lose clara. we've literally had a conversation about me being a rebound. like the very same day he asked me to travel with him. i'm just enjoying the fun while it lasts tbh.

the paternoster gang. the doctor and i got stuck in victorian london after my first adventure. apparently they all knew me, but i have no idea who they are. we were there a while. safe to say we're very tight. mostly, i helped jenny with the housework cause it made me feel like i was contributing to something.

missy. met her in victorian london when she saved my life from the babewyn. she literally showed up, saved my life and disappeared. a couple weeks later she showed up in my apartment, materialised her tardis around me and kidnapped me for a "date" at the titanic. she showed up once in the middle of the night injured and i had to pull shrapnel out of her fucking ribcage. now she shows up on random nights just to sleep in my bed.

lady marguerite (my flerken cat). found a kitten in a cage when we accidentally landed in a high security prison. evidently, i kept her despite the doctor telling me it wasn't a cat. once we managed to free her from the cage, she hid in the tardis and we weren't able to find her in ages. she ate the tardis once. long story. she's bigger on the inside too. distantly related to tardis'. the little cannibal. it's okay she threw her up after a while. a long while. we were able to get home safe. the 1950s were not fun. we did go to disneyland on opening day. a win is a win?

(some) of my adventures...

the liberation of paris. partially stole the idea from a comic storyline. we landed earlier than expected. the darapok empire tried to take over the war weary city. the doctor used hypnosis to foil their ploy. ploy... such a funny word. i met the dhawan!master. long story.

london, 1896. another comic storyline. on our trip back home the tardis got apprehended by the babewyn. creatures that live in the time vortex and feed off psychic essence. emergency landing. highgate cemetery. the tardis ended up petrified by the babewyn. i get separated from the doctor but missy saved my life. again. long story.

the titanic. missy showed up in my apartment a couple weeks after i met her. kidnapped me claiming we deserved a proper date. i didn't have much choice in the matter. she terrifies me but also she's hot. do whatever you want to me. the ship ends up being packed with temporal sirens. we can't leave with the tardis bcs they cause temporal disruptions and anomalies. a race against the clock. almost died of hypothermia.

the cretaceous era. the doctor literally showed up in the middle of an engagement party. in someone else's house mind you. covered in dirt and goo. rambling about some egg. kirsten was at the same party. they saw me go into a closet with the doctor and chased after us. rambling about how she wasn't very supportive of the age gap. they were so relieved when they realised this was closer to an alien abduction than an affair. oh. this is also when i first meet va'stra.

the roman golden age. wanted to see the colosseum at its prime. ended up getting mistaken for a goddess. long story. rome had been going through an endless winter. they thought i was persephone. that i would bring spring. i kinda did tho so i guess they weren't all that wrong. the doctor helped. emperor hadrian proposed to me so i panicked and told everyone i was married to the doctor. claiming he was hades. idk. never put me on the spot i will start lying through my teeth with no remorse.

the roaring twenties. been there a couple of times actually. met harry houdini. he knew the doctor and asked him for help. this is another comic storyline i stole. oops. missy took me on a date once. we met louis armstrong. the other time was to drop off my biological mother. way too long of a story to tell on this post but if anyone is interested on my backstory do lmk.

amherst, massachusetts, 1856-1860. my favourite poet. emily dickinson. incuded her in my thesis for my final. we ended up showing up during a particularly dark period in her life and find out that a creature has been visiting her. you guys remember her poem "because I could not stop for death"? how she was visited by death, personified as a kindly gentleman, and taken for a ride in his carriage? yeah. turns out that happened. but it wasn't death, it was the lament.

the christmas hotel. i woke up in a hotel without any recollection of how i got there and so did every other guest i ran into. there were no hosts, not a single worker in sight. it was very much giving the shining. guests started dying one by one. it was terrifying. cluedo? the doctor showed up, but i didn't recognise them because it was the thirteenth doctor. i wasn't that far ahead in my timeline. like, i just recently met the twelfth doctor. she knew me, and apologized. can't wait to figure out why. ran into a living christmas tree. bizarre. turns out every single guest had time traveled at some point in their lives and we had all been dropped off into this prison like hotel so chronos could feed off of our chronon energy (a form of radiation linked to temporal anomalies and time travel). it was very much giving the same technology we see in the god complex.

new new york, 5,000,000,112. you bet your ass i was gonna come here. turns out there was an evil evil ai destroying society. turns out the ai was just destroying itself bcs humanity was regressing and the only evil around was a rich rich guy profiting off of everything. typical tuesday.

july 1st, 1937. managed to convince the doctor to uncover the mystery surrounding amelia earhart's disappearance after we received a message about it. we show up on the eve of her solo flight and spend time with amelia herself. i so need her to teach me how a plane works *debbie ryan*. strange occurrences and malfunctions plague the preparations for the flight. which leads us to suspect that amelia's aircraft may be the target of sabotage. river song shows up! turns out the message came from her. turns out the sabotageer (is that even a word?) is samuel chapman, amelia's exfiance. technically it's the vindicta, tho. a consciousness that attached itself to beings taht feel betrayed and influences them to seek revenge.

egypt, 1911. the master took me on a nile cruise. ended up stumbling onto the desecrated tomb of sekhmet. we got kidnapped by locals. english colonialists vs an osirian. not my circus not my monkeys. was kinda rooting for the war goddess until she started going after everyone. had to put her back in her tomb.

palace of versailles, 1793. kinda wanted to meet marie antoinette to see what she was really like. we posed as royalty from other countries. we ended up overstaying our welcome. by a lot. almost got ourselves executed with her.

plans for this dr...

i really want to stay travelling with the doctor for as long as i can. don't care about regenerations. they're all the doctor to me.

i probably will be able to regenerate after the witch's familiar. long story. the doctor sharing his regeneration energy with davros and subsequently all daleks on skaro will affect me too. though, not sure i can change faces. we shall see.

i wanna figure out what exactly happened to my mother. hopefully help her too. as much as i'm allowed, that is. rules of time travel and all that. i have a bit of this scripted bcs i havmte going unplanned about things that matter this much to me.

if i have the chance to meet amy... not sure i'd take it or rather, idk if i would tell her "hey, i'm technically related to you!" bcs it's a very complicated, non-consensual and possibly very triggering situation.

i scripted clara stops travelling with the doctor after death in heaven, so that makes last christmas her last adventure with the doctor. i read somewhere that that's when she was supposed to leave so i kept that to avoid the doctor getting their memory erased in hell bent.

did i tell you guys that i can summon a sword out of my left arm? very long story.

oh, and whatever is going between me and the master. yeah, that's gonna hurt like a mf. it's on me though. i did this to myself.

p.s. i feel like i missed a lot but idk when enough's enough and when's too little so if you guys want to hear more about this dr do let me know!

#DOCTOR WHO DR #shiftblr

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musicalmoritz · 10 months ago

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Could you do more of the kids/ parenting head canons??? Can I ask for like Aoiaoi, Natsuteru and Kounene also yamabuki lemon as a single parent and whoever else you want??

Another one let’s gooooooooo

AoiAoi

• Out of every couple these two are the most likely to get married and have kids

• They would have an insane amount of kids. Like they’d be on the news for how many kids they have. Poor Aoi

• Buuuut she’s just as eager to have a house full of kids as Akane is. She gives them flower names and they probably have at least one Harry Potter ass kid who’s named smth like “Teru Nene Aoi.” She doesn’t have to be as strict with them bcuz Akane takes over most of the parenting, trust tho she’s still very involved in her kids’ lives. She probably has a binder to keep track of what’s going on with each of them

• I mentioned before that I see Aoi becoming a florist in the future, I see Akane becoming a therapist. He uses a bunch of psychology tricks to parent their kids, but he has a habit of using too many technical terms when he gives advice. “No honey, you just need to develop an internal locus of control.” The kids and Aoi are both very tired of it. He would absolutely love being a dad tho and be the biggest family guy ever

• They have a sign on their front porch that says smth like “Home of Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi Aoi & Aoi❤️”

• Their home life is very chaotic and stressful at times but it’s built on so much love and dedication. Akane and Aoi are both living their dream lives (likely with a lot of nannies) (or with Akane quitting his job to be a househusband after him and Aoi rock-paper-scissored over who got to do it) (Aoi didn’t speak to him for a week after he won)

Natsuteru

• Oh wow it is hard for me to imagine them as parents

• I say they would have two sons (I’m loosely basing this off a series one of my moots @/teru.kisser made on TikTok)

• No matter who he’s with, Teru is gonna be a helicopter. His parental instincts come before anything else in his life so he fully dedicates himself to the kids. He either has some cool ass job like a private investigator or he’s a stay at home dad, no in between (no he’s not an exorcist in this I’m letting him be happy). He dotes on the kids all the time but can be overly strict in order to keep them safe

• Natsuhiko tries to be the fun dad but he’s so aloof that the kids don’t know much about him. Some kind of super secretive job. His and Teru’s parenting styles tend to conflict so they essentially parent separately. They argue a lot bcuz of their differences but they manage to make it work because both of them are deeply in love with each other. Their kids frequently question how they ended up together

• They take the boys to amusement parks a lot

• While the household can be a bit tense and they could definitely use some family counseling, they all love each other a lot. None of them know how to express it bcuz they’re all so secretive in their own ways but they care about each other more than anything. It’s a weird life but a charming one

Kounene

• Old married couple Kounene save me…old married couple Kounene…save me old married couple Kounene

• Two sons and a daughter. That’s the vibe I’m getting

• Kou has some deep-seated issues he’s unwilling to address but he makes up for it by loving his wife and kids Gomez Addams style. Mans is fully devoted to his family and he makes sure to tell them that every day. I might let him go the exorcist route bcuz I want to see him suffer a lot little. He’s there at every sports game his kids have yelling at the ref. He makes Nene breakfast in bed every morning. One thing abt Kou is he’s gonna spoil the ppl he loves

• Writer!Nene is still a thing in this universe, she has her own trauma and writes to make sense of it. She’s a bit better with the kids because when they need her help, she focuses more on understanding why they’re upset as opposed to Kou who solely focuses on solving all their problems. She has a hard time keeping up with all their extracurricular activities but she supports them nonetheless

• All of Kou and Nene’s friends admire them for being high school sweethearts

• They’re a stereotypical sitcom family. Corny life lessons at the end of each day. The kids get into shenanigans. They probably have a dog too, a golden retriever. It’s a whole bit

Single Dad Lemon

• I love this one, we need more single parent rep

• I’m gonna say he has a son

• I really want to go with some tropey story of how he was living a rough lifestyle and found a troubled kid that he had to look out for and eventually he had to fix up his life to adopt the kid bcuz they changed each other’s lives but would that be too corny?? Maybe he just up and decided he wanted to be a dad someday. Maybe his baby mama left him. You decide

• He would be one of those dads that acts like an older brother at times but in a good way. Instead of rising to his rebellious son’s bait, he meets him halfway, confronting him abt his bs without putting up with it. One of those parents you can swear around but he will throw in a half-hearted “Language.” It’s rocky at first but they end up super close, a rare instance of finding a parent who is genuinely your best friend

• Their house is a mess but it’s a home <3 Similar to the Kounene family they’d probably have a sitcom type lifestyle, the Boy Meets World to Kounene’s Full House. The kid throws a party while Lemon is a way and they have to have a heart-to-heart about it. Cue the tears

I hope you enjoyed these, I had a lot of fun making them!! I’m pleasantly surprised I’ve gotten so many asks about this, I thought most fans hated fankid stuff so I’m happy to see I’m not the only one who like to imagine what these characters would be like in the future

#ask #ask me anything #lemon yamabuki #headcanons #aoiaoi #natsuteru #kounene #aoi akane #akane aoi #kou minamoto #nene yashiro #natsuhiko hyuuga #teru minamoto

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maviezz · 1 year ago

Text

˚₊‧ა ☆ ໒ ‧₊˚Jealousy (Steve Raglan x fem!reader)

tags: smut, oral(m receiving), pet names, jealous william, fluff,

note: Steve’s quite subby here hehe. reader is in her early twenties, Steve on his mid-late forties. This contains mature content.

Word count: 1.4k

I stumbled upon the counseling center job almost by accident. Fresh out of college with a degree in psychology, I was eager to put my knowledge into practice. But job opportunities in the field were scarce, and I found myself settling for a position that was mediocre at best and not so well-paid.

As I settled into my role at the counseling center, I quickly realized that while the job might not have been the most glamorous, it had its perks. One of them was Steve Raglan, my boss. Tall, with a confident demeanor and a penchant for gold aviator glasses. His salt and pepper locks adorned his beard and hair, adding to his allure. He was the epitome of charisma.

Our relationship started off strictly professional, but as time went on, there was an undeniable chemistry between us. The more we worked together, the more I found myself drawn to his magnetic personality and charm.

Despite our best efforts to keep things purely professional, and also considering the fact that he was almost as old as my own father— it became increasingly difficult to ignore the growing attraction between us. Eventually, we couldn't resist the pull any longer, and our professional relationship blossomed into something more, resulting in a romantic relationship that neither of us saw coming.

"Steve, is everything good?" I asked, my tone laced with a hint of worry. I had come to his office to deliver some expedients, but I noticed he was silent, quiet even. It was highly unusual coming from someone as charismatic and outgoing as him.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Steve replied with a forced smile, but there was a hint of tension in his voice that I couldn't ignore. He glanced away, avoiding my gaze, which only added to my concern.

His response seemed a bit off, and as I glanced at him, I could tell that something was bothering him. Despite his attempt to reassure me with a faint smile, there was a tension in his voice that hinted at underlying distress.

“Are you sure everything's okay, love?" I pressed gently, my concern growing as I observed his troubled expression. "You seem a little... off today."Steve sighed, running a hand through his graying locks, his usual charisma momentarily faltering

“Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, but his words lacked conviction. "Just dealing with some stuff. Don’t worry, princess."I hesitated, debating whether to push further or respect his privacy. But as I met his troubled gaze, I knew I couldn't simply ignore his obvious distress.

"Steve, come on, just tell me what’s wrong," I urged gently, leaning in closer. "We’re supposed to trust each other, right?" My tone was soft but firm, conveying my sincerity and willingness to listen. I could sense his hesitation, but I hoped my words would encourage him to open up.

Steve shifted uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding my gaze. "It's nothing, really," he muttered, but I could see the turmoil behind his eyes.I sighed, sensing that there was more to it than he was letting on.

“Honey, look at me," I said firmly, gently tilting his chin up to meet my gaze. "I care about you, and I want to understand what's going on. You can talk to me."After a moment of silence, Steve finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I just... I can't help but feel insecure sometimes," he admitted, his vulnerability catching me off guard. "I see all these younger guys around, and I can't help but wonder why you're with an old guy like me."

My heart ached at his confession, my lips curved into a soft grin, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Steve, you're not just 'an old guy' to me," I said sincerely. "You're kind, intelligent, and incredibly attractive. Age has nothing to do with it. I'm with you because I care about you, and I want to be with you."As I spoke, I could see the tension in Steve's shoulders begin to ease

"But—" Steve began, his voice trailing off, but I gently cut him short, placing a finger on his lips to silence him."No 'buts,' Steve," I said firmly, meeting his eyes with unwavering determination.

"I'll make sure you understand how much I love you," I whispered, my voice filled with sincerity, though laced with a hint of desire.Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, I slowly knelt down in front of him, maintaining eye contact as I reached for both of his thighs, slowly running my hands up and down over his pants, tickling the skin underneath

delicate fingers dug into the fabric of his pants, causing a shiver down his spine, making his cock twitch in its confines. "I’ll suck the jealousy out of you" I murmured sensually, my words coming out sweet and honey coated. My tiny hands slowly slipped inside his pants, grasping firmly at his leaky and aching erection.

"Look at you, could a younger guy possibly compare to this?" I asked in a low voice, barely above a whisper, as I leaned in closer. My hands continued to explore, tracing the contours of his length with gentle fingers, sliding my fist back and forth over the length of his arousal while running the pad of my thumb over the tip, collecting his sticky fluids for a taste.

"H-Hng~, Honey..." Steve panted loudly, clawing at the armrests of the chair, tighter and tighter...eyes rolling back into his head with an audible groan.

The hair on his forehead was damp with sweat and stuck to his skin, the small droplets of moisture dripping onto his face. His breathing was short and rapid, his body trembling under the exertion, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as I ran my tongue over every single inch of him—one hand stroking his swollen and sensitive balls while i bobbed my head eagerly.

The smell of sweat was growing thicker, permeating the atmosphere and making it feel heavy and oppressive. His breathing was becoming visibly more rapid and shallow, small whines and groans filled the room alongside lewd and wet sounds as my hands and mouth worked their magic on his aching dick.

"Does it feel good, honey?” I purred playfully as I pulled away from his length. my chin coated in saliva as I looked at him with a naughty, almost teasing grin on my face.

"F-fuck…oh God, yes..." Steve panted out a breath, spreading his legs further for more access. His entire body was tense with the exertion of each movement, the heat growing between us becoming intense. He could feel himself growing harder—if it was even possible— as he looked at me, each movement and breath he took becoming more passionate. “I’m gonna cum..”

his fingers tangled in my messy hair, guiding my movements to a certain extent. His grip was firm, yet gentle, he was holding my head with authority, while he was also encouraging me to take him deeper into my throat. I could sense him enjoying the pleasure I was giving him, encouraging me to go deeper until my nose made contact with his pelvic floor.

his hips bucked slightly, it was a clear signal that he was about to reach his peak. I could tell from the way he was moving and the sounds he was making, his body tensing and his breath coming in short gasps. I redoubled my efforts, taking him deeper and hollowing my cheeks harder to intensify the suction.

“Oh m-mhm~ princess” His body lurched forward, his muscles tensing and his body twisting slightly. A louder moan echoed throughout the room, the wet and sloppy noises growing louder as his thrusting became more erratic and sporadic. His body started to convulse slightly, his body jerking suddenly as he reached his climax. Thick and heavy ropes of cum coating my mouth and throat. the sweet and tangy taste enveloping my senses.

“Oh, baby…”I gently pulled away from him, standing up on my feet. His body now lay there limp and relaxed, his hair messy with a few strands sticking out of place. His lips were swollen and red from biting on them, his cheeks flushed from the intensity of the blowjob. He was panting heavily, a wide grin painted on his face as he came back down to reality. He laid there motionless, taking a moment to regain his breath and come back down to his normal state.

"Was this enough to reassure you, love?" I said with a softer giggle, unable to hold back the reaction to his messy and disheveled form.

And oh yes, it definitely did reassure him.

#william afton smut #william afton #steve raglan #steve raglan smut #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #william afton x you #steve raglan x you #William afton fluff

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