#... oh my god AND I HAVE MY FIRST THERAPY SESSION ON MONDAY what a fucking saturated day THATS gonna be

[01themagician]

-- 13. What was the most productive thing you did today? Why do you consider this action to be productive?

-- oh dear lord, its barely 11am where i... am--and a saturday!!--so i havent dont much, especially not anything productive haha. i got up and did some excercise, getting me to a streak of 7 days (yay!!) which is i guess productive because its good for my health and its a goal ive set to myself which im proud to be sticking to. i also fiddled with my tablet a bit and set it up--havent used it in a while, but today i thought i could use it to watch a stream vod while i draw on the laptop (god!! ive been trying to get around to drawing for how fucking long now??). so, productive because useful and resourceful, i suppose :)

-- today, I am looking forward to making crêpes!! i bought some apricot jam and everything, so excited! -- today, I choose to live up to my blogs namesake, the wonderful magician card. -- today, my goals are to make a real effort so i could spend the sunday relaxing absolutely with not a worry in mind 💕

-- ♪ the hives -- smoke & mirrors ♪

[thatgayb1tchwhosimps4her]

HEY PEOPLE!!! THIS IS THE OFFICIAL 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!!

And in commemoration of that, I (with the help of talking to @lotties-ashwagandha) have created this fic, please enjoy.

Summary: Basically just reader (18/19) being new to Lottie's wellness centre and having a pre-made bond with her, and sort of one with Nat (since she gets inducted into it a few weeks after r), then the rest of the adults arrive and things get interesting...

This is a bit of a long-en and it took fucking forever, and it feels a little rushed, but oh well, enjoy :)

@zhivaxo

*****

Eat Your Young

❤️🧡💚💜💙💛

Adult YellowJacket's x Late Teen!GN/AFAB Reader

❤️🧡💚💜💙💛

Word Count: 3152.

I may have gotten a little carried away w/ this, but I just love them all sm, and istg if this flops I will cry cause I actually love this sm.

Also he/him and transmasc Van and Nat, cause I love them 😁.

*****

You'd arrived at the compound about a couple of months ago, after Lottie had spotted you being dragged around at a farmers market in downtown New York she was also at, by your asshole of a father who insisted upon showing you the exact and only crafted beer he liked and drank (nothing of which ever ended well when he drank it).

Of course, after noticing what was actually going on by the way he acted toward you, she insisted upon taking you away from him to the compound, and to also help you cope with your past trauma, once she got to speak with you alone. At first to which you denied, unsure of what would happen and if your father would find you if accepted.

Eventually, she got you to accept, god damn those pleading brown eyes of hers. Which was how you ended up here, Camp Green Pine (it was actually really pretty now that you thought about it), or Lottie's cult, as Nat had referred to it on multiple occasions, which you found rather assuming, of which you'd never admit to Lottie.

The same 'here' that one of Lottie and Nat's old friends, Misty, turned up at about a week after Nat first got here, with somebody else, Waldo you recalled his name being, or Walter. The two of them later on being joined by some of their other friends, later of which, you learned their names, Tai, Van and Shauna.

More specifically, the 'here' that was known as the sharing shack, having been trying to track Lottie down for the last hour, having gotten lost at least a couple times, wanting to review one of your sessions for the week, unsure of what it meant. All of which was soon forgotten when you stumbled upon her and her old friends in said sharing shack, the previous conversation dying down pretty quickly upon your entry.

"Hi, sorry I don't mean to intrude. I just wanted to borrow Charlotte for a minute, go over this one part of my schedule for this week. I can go though if this is a bad time." You stated, stumbling over your own words, not wanting to make a bad first impression on the other 4.

"Of course not, my love, come sit." Lottie answered, patting the seat to her left, between her and Natalie.

"Okay," You answered, nervously walking over to and taking your seat next to the two of them, dressed in an oversized heliotrope jumper, light blue denim jeans and black converse, before handing her the piece of paper, as she inspected it.

Watching on as the others exchanged slightly awkward glances, flashing them small smiles as some sort of piece offering, to which none of them acknowledged, except the blonde that was sitting next to Nat, who offered a small wave back, which you replied with a small nod, moving slightly closer to Lottie, feeling Nat's hand rest on the small of your back as some form of comfort you were guessing.

"Yeah don't worry about it, it's just like the group therapy you sat in on Monday morning, except more of how to cope with specific issues, rather then sharing experiences and stuff, since I know that's a tough thing for you to do." Lottie spoke, turning back to and smiling sweetly at you and handing you back your schedule, to which you folded up and slid into your back pocket.

"Oh okay, that uh makes sense, thank you." You replied, still feeling the rest of the groups gaze on you, taking this as your cue to get up and leave, as you went to do so you felt Nat tug on the bottom of your jumper.

"Um, excuse you." You stated, not wanting to cause a scene.

"What, you want me to do everything here?" Nat said, turning to Lottie, then the rest of the group.

"Listen dove," Lottie started, taking your hand and guiding you to sit back down, "I hope you don't mind, but I've been talking to the group about you tonight, along with some of your past........ issues." The brunette added, moving her hand to rest on your thigh as you gulped.

You weren't sure how to take this. 'What past issues did she mean?' Were they the ones you cried to her over? No, she wouldn't, would she? More importantly, why would she?'

"Oh, okay," You spoke, unsure of where this conversation headed. "What issues were you talking about?"

"Well uh, just some of the general stuff, since some of them," She shot a look at Tai and Van, who were quick to look down at the floor, a slight blush prominent on their cheeks. "had questions about you, and wanted to know some things about you." Lottie explained, running her thumb over the plush part of your inner thigh, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

"What, like how old I am, see if any of my past traumas match up with yours?" You retorted jokingly, smirking slightly, the room falling slightly tense as you were fully understanding the manor of their previous conversation.

The room went quiet, before the curly blonde, Misty, stood up and walked over to you, crouching in front of you.

"We just wanna help you, my love." The woman said, resting a hand on your knee, the other intertwining with your own hand, lifting it to her lips, pressing a kiss on the back of your hand softly, looking up at you sincerely. 'She seems nice' you thought to yourself, as you blushed softly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Misty's right, darling." Nat spoke, his hand still resting and rubbing up and down your lower back.

"What you went through with your dad. What he did to you, to try and change you and stuff, honestly I-," He cut himself off sensing the change in your body language at the sensitive subject, your gaze going from looking at her to down at your lap, fiddling with your hands, before speaking up again. "Look, we just wanna help, in anyway we can."

"Mhm." The rest of them agreed, as the other brunette, Shauna, suddenly appeared behind you, essentially boxing you in between her, Nat, Misty and Lottie.

"Will you let us help you out, sweetheart?" Shauna asked, smoothing her hands over your shoulders.

"O-okay," You replied, removing your gaze from your lap to glance up at her, before looking back at the group. "I don't know how, but you can, all of you can, help, I mean." You added, slightly flustered, as the brunette behind you shared a knowing look with the rest of the group, causing Nat to take your other hand, him and Misty standing you up and leading you back to Lottie's quarters, Shauna and Lottie following behind, Tai and Van following after them.

A million questions were running through your mind as you were lead toward Lottie's bedroom, like 'Was what you thought was gonna happen actually about to happen? Was this some sort of fever dream?'.

All of which were quickly forgotten when you arrived at Lottie's, Nat's hands quickly moving to your jumper, slipping them under it and pulling it over your head, discarding it on the floor, while Van came around your back and started kissing along your neck slowly, and the rest of the group were ridding themselves of their shoes and clothes.

"They look so pretty for us, right guys?" Van stated, littering your jaw with soft kisses. "Is that okay to say?" He added, to which you replied with a nod.

"Damn right they are." Nat answered, everybody else agreeing in some way, her hands going down to your belt, unbuckling it before unzipping your jeans, discarding both of them on the growing pile of clothes on the floor, leaving you in your binder and boxer shorts and everyone in the room, except Nat and Van, in just their underwear.

"It's alright," Lottie stated, approaching you in her matching set of dark purple lingerie, as the other two pulled away from you to sort their clothes out, "just trust us, okay? We'll take care of you" She added, smoothing her thumbs over your ribs and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, sensing your anxiousness.

You nodded in response, feeling Shauna and Misty come up behind you, the brunette starting to plant kisses along your right shoulder, while the blonde did the same to your left, running her hands over the bottom of your binder, as they led you back onto Lottie's bed, pushing you down onto it lightly as your legs hit the end of it, before climbing onto it to sit either side of you and start attacking your face and neck with long, heated kisses.

Lottie then came over to you with Tai, kneeling on the hardwood floors of her cabin between your thighs, as Tai came and sat on the bed running her fingers over your stomach and up your chest, making more warmth pool into your lower abdomen while Shauna and Misty continued kissing along your shoulders and up and down either side of your neck and jawline.

"Is it okay if I take this off, baby?" Tai questioned, resting her hands at the hem of your binder.

"Mhm," You answered, nodding slowly, slightly apprehensive to let it happen, "You can take it off." You added, lifting your arms up slightly to assist with her taking your binder, straightening it out and placing it on the floor with a light thud.

Misty and Shauna moved their mouths over your shoulders, sucking hickeys over them and along your jaw and neck softly, making you moan slightly, as Lottie moved her hands further up your thighs to your boxers, looking up at you and then back down at your briefs, wordlessly communicating with you as you nodded at her, then pulling them down a little, letting her do the rest as Van came over, and sat next to you, between Tai and Misty, and started to run her hand over the side of your chest.

After a little while of Misty and Shauna continuing to kiss along either side of your neck and shoulders, while Lottie finished pulling your boxers down to your ankles, running her fingers along your slit, starting to run her thumb over your clit, making you whine slightly.

"Sh sh sh, it's okay baby. Just trust me, alright? It'll be worth it." The brunette stated, before leaning down and pressing a kiss against it, making you moan softly.

Once Lottie started working her mouth against your clit, Van took this opportunity to use his newfound confidence to lean forward and rest his hand on your boob, squishing and kneading it slightly and giggling softly.

"Wow, seriously, are you still 12?" Tai spoke, watching this exchange.

"What?! They're good boobs, okay? Sue me." Van spoke, defending his actions, with a slight scowl before his expression dropped and he spoke again. "Oh wait, fuck, that's okay to say, right?" He added.

"It's fine Van, honestly, don't worry about it. This seriously feels like a fever dream, I'm really not that bothered what you call me as long as you don't call me a girl or a boy" You replied, giggling slightly yourself, to which Van replied with a nod, going back to squishing both your boobs while Lottie started working her mouth on your clit swirling her tongue around it, eliciting strings of moans from your mouth.

"Such pretty noises, baby." Tai stated, leaning forward and kissing you softly, before taking your bottom lip between her teeth, biting and sucking on it softly, before reaching down, resting the back of her palm on Lottie's chin and pushing to fingers inside you, forcing another moan out of you.

'God this is pure bliss' you thought.

Lottie working her mouth on your clit, while Misty and Shauna were pressing theirs against your neck and jaw line and down your shoulders over and over

Van was kneading hos hand over your boob, while Tai was pressing hers against Lottie's chin while working her fingers inside you, and Nat, Nat was god knows where, but you didn't think of that too much right now.

All you were focused on was the warm feeling that was flowing in your lower abdomen, and feeling every bit of their combined touch that was gliding over your body.

"Oh pretty baby, you that close already?" Tai piped up, feeling you start to clench around her fingers, looking up at you and seeing you bite your lip. "Tsk tsk tsk tsk." She muttered under her breath, starting to curl her fingers inside you slightly faster.

"I- ah, I'm- fuck, I'm sorry. I can try and wait, I didn't mean to- god. I can try, I can-" You stuttered out, being cut off by Misty pressing her finger over your mouth.

"Sh sh sh, it's okay. It's more then okay, that's exactly what we wanted. It's okay" The blonde reassure, pressing a kiss against your jaw.

"I- are you, are you sure?" You asked, tilting your head back slightly.

"Mhm," Shauna reassured, running her hand over your shoulder. "It's okay, just let go, alright sweetheart?"

You looked down at Lottie, who was still working her mouth on your clit, for some sort of reassurance or confirmation.

"It's okay," Lottie stated, glancing up at you, running her thumb over your thigh, while trailing her tongue over your clit. "Just wait a little longer, alright? Can you do that for mommy?"

"Momm- I- fuck, mommy please, I can't-." You begged, tilting your head back against Misty's shoulder, moaning and panting softly, getting closer.

"Okay, okay, it's okay. Just take your time." Tai said, glancing down at Lottie, while still working her fingers inside you, feeling you clench a little more.

"Fuck- mommy! I'm gonna cum, please please please please." You begged a little more.

"Okay baby, you got it. Cum for us, darling." Lottie stated, just before you fell over the edge with a long, loud moan.

Cumming all over Tai's fingers and Lottie's mouth, dripping down her chin, while bucking your hips up against her mouth, riding out your orgasm.

"God, you're so pretty, baby." Van spoke up, leaning in and kissing along your neck, still kneading his hands over your boobs.

"Fuck-" You rasped out after a few moments, tilting your head back against Shauna's shoulder, looking up at her and Misty.

"God, you did so well for us." Shauna said, softly pressing her lips against yours.

"Damn right they did." Nat stated, speaking up for the first time in a while, approaching you and the rest of the group.

Straps secured around his thighs over his boxers, light blue dildo attached to it, making you gulp softly, as you lifted your head up from it's place on Shauna's shoulder.

"It's okay." Lottie assured, as she rose from her place on the floor to kneel between you and Shauna, mirroring Van's position. "Can you look at me, dove?" She added, running her thumb over your chin.

"There's my pretty little baby." The brunette said, running her thumb over your cheek as you tilted your head toward her. "Now listen okay? Natalie's gonna take good care of you, alright baby? And I'll be here the whole time." She added, lacing her fingers with yours to hold your hand gently.

"O-okay," You stated, nodding your head slowly. "Okay." You said again, turning your head toward Nat, who had his tilted to the side, rested her hand on the underside of the strap, jerking it off slightly.

God he looked so hot. Already with sweat clinging to his face, and a small smirk on his lips, and the abs.

"There you go." Nat said, slipping his strap inside you while these thoughts were clouding your mind, making you groan loudly.

"Fuck, Natalie." You moaned out softly, as he pressed his hands down against your hips and start hammering into you, not giving you enough time to adjust. Making the rest of them smirk slightly at how loud you were being, and how gorgeous you looked.

"Oh sweet baby, you sound so good for us. So good for Natalie." Tai stated, starting to run her thumb over your clit, still sensitive from Lottie working her mouth on it earlier.

"Such an eager little love for daddy's cock, hmmm Y/n/n?" Nat said, thrusting his hips slightly harder against yours.

"Fuck, god, yes. Daddy please, I need it so bad." You begged, gripping Lottie's hand tightly, as Tai kept rubbing her thumb over your clit.

That with the help of Nat, who kept hammering himself inside you, had you hurtling toward another orgasm so soon.

"You look so gorgeous all fucked out for Natalie, Y/n." Misty giggled, pressing kisses along the left side of your jaw and down your neck, while Van kept kneading his hands over your boobs, plucking your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"I think someone's close again." Shauna perked up, peering over your shoulder to look at Nat, before glancing down to watch your face contort and your mouth open and close, letting out breathy moans.

"No I- no I jus- fuck Natalie! I-" You stuttered out, being cut off by Lottie kissing you again.

"It's okay, love. We're not here to stop you, we're here to make you feel good and give you a treat, alright?" She said, pressing her lips against your cheek.

"Cmon baby," Van whispered against your cheek, still squishing his hand over your boob. "You can do it."

As soon as he said that, combined with the feeling of Nat still forcefully thrusting his strap into you, while grunting softly, and Tai rubbing circles around your clit quicker then before.

Along with the rest of them doing their own things, your senses became overwhelmed with pleasure for the second time that night, causing you to release and came hard over Nat's strap and Tai's hand, while moaning loudly.

As Nat fucked you through your orgasm, Shauna and Misty were still working their mouths along your neck and jaw (by now of which were probably covered in hickeys), and Van was still squishing and plucking your boobs with his fingers.

It wasn't until they helped you slowly ride out your high, that you slumped down against them, sweat dripping off your forehead while panting heavily, and that Nat slowly pulled out, tucking his strap back into his boxers, while he and the rest of the group watched you as you recovered from your climax, letting you return back to yourself.

Once your orgasm had fully subsided, Lottie leant up slightly and softly pressed her lips against yours. Speaking to you, as if only wanting you to hear. "Good job, baby, you did so good. The wilderness is pleased with you now. It's pleased with all of us."

*****

So for those of you still reading, if you didn't get it by now, this was a 100 follower special (yay me, though there is more then 100 of u guys by now but oh well), and I just wanted to hop on here for those that are still reading, I'm so grateful to every single one of you that have interacted with me/my posts over the last year.

I only got into writing fan fiction as an outlet for stuff going on in my personal life (cause life has sucked a lot for me, especially over the last year, but yk we deal), but to know people actually like my stuff is really awesome.

Love you guys lots (I should probably come up with a nickname at this point or something), here's to the next 100 and I hope you enjoyed this fic.

-Harlow

P.s This was fairly rushed at the end and this is defo garbage, but I just wanted to get this out.

And ignore the fact Nat disappeared mid way through this, I didn't know what to do with him, but yk we ball.

[perfecttimeseleven]

Perfect Times Eleven Ep. 1 TRANSCRIPT

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

REMINGTON

Goddamn it! You really think tying a tie wouldn’t be this hard.

VOICE FROM PHONE

And that, my friends, is how you tie a tie!

REMINGTON

(overlapping)

No! No it’s not! Fuck you!

VOICE FROM PHONE

Hope you found this video helpful. Hit up that “like” button  below and don’t forget to subscribe to my channel for more pro bro tips from Menswear Mike! Hang tie-ght. Haha, get it? Just a little joke for ya on this fine Menswear Mike Monday morning.

(REMINGTON grabs her phone and turns the video off.)

REMINGTON

Shit. Ah.. maybe if... nope. That’s worse. Is that a zit? God hates me.

(exhales)

My name is Remington Long and I am here because I hear eleven voices in my head and a teacup chihuahua tried to claw my eye out — no. That’s too on the nose.

(pauses)

My name is Remington Long! How are you? I’m perfectly sane! Fuck. Uh...yeah, no. I’m already talking to a mirror. Who’s gonna believe that? Okay. My name is Remington Long, and oh, heavenly therapist, please bestow the blesséd knowledge upon me so I can maybe, maaaaybe have a shot at normal life. Except, y’know, my life’s already fine, except sometimes animals attack me, I guess, like the chihuahua from yesterday. So I actually don’t know why the hell my parents are paying you. But yes! My name is Remington Long and I’m here for a heaping helping of therapy! Fuck yeah! Ugh.

(1. Therapy Upstate.)

REMINGTON

THERAPY. THERAPY UPSTATE.

IT’S UNFAIR TO ME. Here, I’ll give it to ya straight —

WELL, KIDS, YOU KNOW YOUR PARENTS THINK YOU’RE REALLY PSYCHO

WHEN YOU’RE FORCED TO HIKE OVER TO DELAWARE COUNTY FOR

THERAPY UPSTATE.

I’VE LIVED FOR EIGHTEEN YEARS LIKE THIS! I THINK I’VE GOT THE HANG OF IT BY NOW.

DON’T NEED SOME PRETENTIOUS PRICK’S USELESS SHIT ABOUT MEDITATION OR HOW

TALKING ABOUT MY FEELINGS WILL MAKE EVERYTHING SO, SO MUCH BETTER!

PLUS, HE’LL PROBABLY BE OLD AND WEAR ROUND GLASSES AND A TARTAN SWEATER.

Ugh, I can see it already, HE’LL SAY

”TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS” AND I’LL BE LIKE ”ERR, I GOT NONE!”

AND THEN WE’LL JUST SIT, STARE AT EACH OTHER FOR A BIT

IN SILENCE TILL THE SESSION IS DONE.

Plot twist! WE’LL. FALL IN LOVE

HE’LL TREAT ME WELL BUT I’LL GET HIM FIRED

FOR HAVING RELATIONS WITH A MINOR —

Wait. No. I’m eighteen. I’m an adult. Shit.

A WHOLE ASS ADULT BEING MADE TO GO TO

THERAPY. THERAPY UPSTATE.

WHERE THERE’S TONS OF TREES AND ALL THE STORES CLOSE AFTER EIGHT.

I’M JUST CONSIDERING EVERY POSSIBLE SCENARIO IN AN ATTEMPT TO PREPARE ME,

SO I WON’T HAVE TO GO TO MORE THERAPY UPSTATE.

SO I’VE GOT VOICES IN MY HEAD! WELL, I CAN STILL HAPPILY EXIST!

I CAN’T EVEN HEAR THEM IF I KEEP THIS TACKY BRACELET ON MY WRIST.

AND EVEN WHEN I DO, THEY JUST...REPEAT ELEVEN RANDOM WORDS.

(REMINGTON unclasps her bracelet and it drops to the ground.)

REMINGTON’S VOICES

(jumbled and overlapping)

HARVEST, OCEAN, CREATE, CHANGE, FIGHT, ART, FAMILY, FREEDOM, JOYCE, TRADITION, BIRDS

REMINGTON

See? THEY AREN’T THAT ANNOYING AND THEY’RE QUITE EASY TO IGNORE

JUST LIKE REAL-LIFE PEOPLE THAT TO ME, KINDA BORE.

WHAT WOULD THIS THERAPIST KNOW THAT I DON’T ALREADY

ABOUT WHAT I’VE DEALT WITH MY ENTIRE LIFE? OH, YES, I’M FEELING PETTY ABOUT

THERAPY! THERAPY UPSTATE.

THEY SAY THIS IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE

BUT I’M AN INDEPENDENT MAN WHO DON’T NEED NO MAN

TO SHARE ALL MY CARES WITH AT THERAPY UPSTATE.

I KNOW I’M A BURDEN! I DON’T WANNA BECOME MORE OF ONE!

STOP THROWING MONEY AT THIS! IT WILL NOT GO AWAY.

SAVE THOSE FUNDS FOR MY COLLEGE, OR, BETTER YET, ACKNOWLEDGE

THAT I WON’T GO TO COLLEGE, AND THAT IS OKAY!

I CAN BE NORMAL! I’LL DO FINE! I PROMISE! I PROMISE! I PROMISE.

THERAPY. THERAPY UPSTATE.

YOUR PARENTS SEE YOU CAN’T HANDLE YOURSELF...HOW GREAT.

IT’S A MARK ON THE CALENDAR TO CONFIRM THEY’VE RAISED

A DISAPPOINTMENT, A HOPELESS, CRAZED

FREAK WHO THEY HAVE TO CODDLE, WHO AIN’T GOING ANYWHERE AT THIS RATE!

OH, PLEASE HAVE SOME HOPE IN ME!

I DON’T NEED HELP TO COPE, YOU SEE!

DON’T WRITE SOMETHING FRIGHTFUL

ON MY PERMANENT RECORD OR I’LL NEVER GET A JOB I DON’T HATE!

OH, PLEASE, DON’T SEND ME TO THERAPY UPSTATE!

ACT ONE

SCENE TWO

DR. MORELLO

Yes, uh, hello, Remington.

DAISY

Remington? That’s fucking wack! Remy, like the rat!

DR. MORELLO

Daisy. Language!

REMINGTON

Uh, hi.

DAISY

I’m Daisy, Ratatouille!

DR. MORELLO

My name is Dr. Morello.

REMINGTON

Yeah, uh, my parents told me about you.

DR. MORELLO

Good. This wasn’t what you expected, was it, dear?

REMINGTON

Oh. Uh, no. Don’t get me wrong, this is a very nice house, but yeah. Like I was expecting some really clinical looking...space? You are also not what I expected, but, uh, in a good way! This...is also...such a warm color scheme I’d never have imagined...

(catches herself going off topic)

It is very nice to meet you, Dr. Morello! How can you help with the, uh, voices in my head thing?

(pauses)

Shit. Sorry. I mean, shit, oh sh-...sorry. Shouldn’t have cursed. I didn’t mean like you’re seeking me out to help me, I’m the one seeking your help —

DAISY

You’re making it worse, nerd.

REMINGTON

Yeah, also there’s, uh, Daisy? Um, there’s children here. Didn’t expect that. Who? Why? Uh, who’s the other one?

DR. MORELLO

Ohh! Yes —

REMINGTON

Yes, there’s children here.

DR. MORELLO

Yes, yes. Remington, I would like you to meet my other patients. Come over here! Be polite!

JAY

Ugh.

DAISY

I said hi to her already!

JAY

Hi, I guess.

REMINGTON

Okay, I can respect a girl with a well-defined aesthetic —

JAY

Then why are you dressed like a sad lawyer?

DR. MORELLO

Kids, this is Remington’s first appointment, and you both know what that means.

DAISY

(bored)

I’ll get the fear-puke bucket.

REMINGTON

The what?

DAISY

Wait. Hold the phone. Hold on. Remington Long...Are you the kid who got attacked by the...

JAY

Oh, wait, yeah! Shiiiiiit!

(DAISY and JAY try to contain their laughter.)

DAISY

...teacup chihuahua?

(JAY doubles down in laughter.)

REMINGTON

(unamused)

Yeah. Nice to meet you.

DR. MORELLO

Kids, be nice. Okay, now this is Jay.

(DAISY and JAY calm down.)

REMINGTON

Who’s already mocked me twice. Good start. Hello.

JAY

(clears throat a little)

Hey —

DR. MORELLO

(interrupting)

Now that that’s out of the way —

DAISY

(exiting)

Fear-puke bucket time!

REMINGTON

Okay, what does that mean?

DR. MORELLO

(ignoring her)

— let’s get down to business. Now — That bracelet on your wrist. It’s the accessory you use to block the voices out, yes?

REMINGTON

Yeah.

DR. MORELLO

And when you take it off, can you describe what these voices are like?

REMINGTON

There’s like, a lot of them, and they just say words, I guess. It’s overlapping and each voice says a word, and then that just repeats, like, I don’t know, over and over, like —

JAY

Like a broken record in your brain.

REMINGTON

...Yeah. What she said.

(turning back to DR. MORELLO)

Wait, so all your patients have the same problem?

DR. MORELLO

Essentially, yes.

(pauses)

Of course, I do too.

REMINGTON

What?

(DAISY enters with a big yellow bucket, which she plunks in front of REMINGTON.)

DAISY

Fear-puke bucket time.

JAY

It’s always more like panic attack puke, if anything —

DAISY

Yeah, but that doesn’t have the same ring to it.

REMINGTON

What’s this for?

DAISY/JAY

Just in case.

REMINGTON

Of what?

DR. MORELLO

Remington, this isn’t some disease or disorder. You see, ah, living things have a soul, right?

REMINGTON

Okay, yeah, I guess?

DR. MORELLO

Well, souls don’t die with the living thing. They go on to inhabit another body.

REMINGTON

Reincarnation?

DR. MORELLO

Yes, some call it that. A transference of energy. A shift of...ah, physical matter around an entity, a...crowding of energies for space, a—

REMINGTON

Wack.

DR. MORELLO

Wack indeed, Remington.

REMINGTON

So my voices are some byproduct of, like, reincarnation?

DAISY

Sorta.

DR. MORELLO

If the soul lives a good, fulfilling, pure life — at least, as the books say — such a thing -- a “pure life” -- is hard to define, it gets reincarnated as human.

REMINGTON

And if it doesn’t?

JAY.

It turns into an animal.

REMINGTON

Damn, that’s rough.

DAISY

(to JAY)

She’s taking this surprisingly well.

DR. MORELLO

People who hear these voices are people whose souls have been reincarnated as human for several lifetimes in a row. The voices are remnants of previous human lives.

REMINGTON

So what you’re saying is voices mean there’s, like, dead people in your head?

DR. MORELLO

That’s putting it a little crassly, but...yes.

REMINGTON

So...there’s dead people in your head?

DR. MORELLO

Yes.

REMINGTON

All of you?

DAISY/JAY

Yeah.

REMINGTON

Me?

JAY

(a little irritated)

Yes!

REMINGTON

So this is some kind of therapy for dead-people-in-your-head...people? Fine. But why do these dead people say random words? Does it all mean anything? Am I just really stupid and not connecting some obvious dots?

JAY

Yes.

(DR. MORELLO stands up. 2. Dead-People-In-Your-Head People.)

DR. MORELLO

NOW, A SOUL MOVES FROM BODY TO BODY,

BUT EACH LIFE LEAVES ITS TRACE.

A SINGLE WORD FOR EACH HUMAN

TOO OFTEN THOUGHT ABOUT TO ERASE

NOW WHEN SOULS HAVE BEEN REINCARNATED

AS HUMAN SEVERAL TIMES IN A ROW

IT GETS TO THE EXTENT WHERE THE SOUL IS SO HUMAN,

ITS HOST HEARS ECHOES OF LONG AGO.

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

EVERYONE’S GOT DEAD PEOPLE IN THEIR HEADS, PEOPLE!

JAY

ONLY WE’RE THE LUCKY BASTARDS WHO CAN HEAR ‘EM.

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

THERE’S NO WAY TO MAKE ‘EM GO AWAY!

DAISY

NO MAGIC PILL, POTION, OR SERUM!

JAY

SO USE THEM TO YOUR ADVANTAGE IF YOU’RE NOT A LITTLE BITCH —

DR. MORELLO

Jay!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

WE’RE ALL DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE

DAISY

AND THOUGH IT SOUNDS A BIT DARK,

WE’VE JUST INHERITED SOULS FROM PURE AND WHOLESOME

FOLKS WHO’D CLEAN UP LITTER IN THE PARK!

REMINGTON

OH, SO USE THEM TO YOUR ADVANTAGE SINCE THEY’RE ALL LITTLE BITCHES —

DR. MORELLO

No! WHAT JAY MEANT IS WE CAN LEARN FROM THEM.

YOU’LL FIND THEY’RE NO MYSTERY!

IF YOU

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

CONCENTRATE ON ONE WORD,

DR. MORELLO

YOU CAN UNLOCK A HISTORY.

WE’RE TIES BETWEEN GENERATIONS

WHO OBSERVE AND PRESERVE

THIS SOUL’S UNTAINTED PURITY

SO WE GET THE NEXT LIFE WE DESERVE!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

WHEN YOU’RE DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

No pressure, but your past lives all were really good...

WE’RE SORTA RARE, SO WE’D SORTA CARE

TO NOT GO EXTINCT...UNDERSTOOD?

DR. MORELLO

SO WE ALL CONSIDER BEING MORE SELFLESS...

JAY

NOTE THE KEY WORD THERE IS “CONSIDER”!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

WHEN YOU’RE DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

YOU’RE WORKING FOR A HIGHER PURPOSE!

THERE’S SO MUCH MORE TO EXPLORE;

WE’VE BARELY SCRATCHED THE SURFACE!

BUT, BEFORE WE START, HERE’S THE MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION...

DR. MORELLO

How many voices are in your head?

REMINGTON

Eleven.

DAISY

Holy shit.

JAY

Are you sure you’ve counted right?

REMINGTON

Yeah, I’m fucking sure I’ve counted right after 18 years of counting! What’s so weird about eleven?

JAY

Nothing. You just beat my record of ten.

REMINGTON

SO I GUESS I’M A

DEAD-PERSONS-IN-MY-HEAD PERSON!

I’M GLAD TO BE JOINING THE TEAM.

I’LL TRY TO CALMLY ACCEPT I’M AN ANOMALY

AND NOT FEAR-PUKE OR SCREAM!

I’M READY TO GET STARTED WITH THIS THERAPY!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

Yeah!

SHE’S A DEAD-PERSONS-IN-HER-HEAD PERSON

JAY

Having eleven isn’t problematic at all!

DAISY

SHUT UP, YOU CUCK!

PETER

IT’S JUST OUR LUCK

THAT YOUR PARENTS GAVE ME THAT CALL

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

‘CAUSE NOW, YOU’RE HERE WITH US!

ALL

AND WE’RE ALL

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE!

EACH HOUSING A VERY NICE SOUL.

THOUGH WE’VE GOT DIFFERENT NUMBERS,

WE’RE ALL PARTS OF A WHOLE!

DR. MORELLO

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

DR. MORELLO/JAY

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

DR. MORELLO/JAY/DAISY

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE...

REMINGTON

THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN MY HEAD!

DR. MORELLO/JAY/DAISY

OH YES, THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN HER HEAD!

WHY STRESS? THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN HER HEAD!

GOD BLESS! THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN HER HEAD!

[whitesparrows97]

Crossroads – Part 2

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of dark thoughts, cheating and therapy sessions

Word Count: 4.8K

Previous / Next

Y/N hadn’t lied, Jungkook was relieved to find out when he looked out the window on Monday morning and saw you sitting behind your desk as usual. He tried to draw attention to himself a few times, but it seemed like you were stressed. He didn’t even see you get up from your seat to take a break or even go to the toilet.

God, he really sounded like a stalker who followed every step of his victim closely. All he needed was a small, black notebook in which he wrote down every detail and dated it with times. 

It was just before 12 when he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye. With a frown he turned to the window and almost dropped his coffee cup. You stood at the window and waved to win his attention. When you saw that your plan had worked, you stretched out your hand with the inside of your hand to the front, all five fingers spread. Then you pointed your index finger at him and upwards. 

What secret code did you want to tell him? Five? Five minutes? Maybe on the roof in five minutes?

Jungkook pointed to himself to be on the safe side and then also to the top. You nodded enthusiastically and a short time later disappeared from his field of vision. Immediately Jungkook jumped up and spilled his coffee on the important documents.

“Shit,” he cursed and tried to wipe up the worst with a napkin, which he had already laid out for his meal. 

“Oh my, what happened to you?” Namjoon asked as he looked over the room divider to Jungkooks seat at his outcry.

“It’ll have to wait, I have an appointment,” Jungkook mumbled without answering Namjoon’s question and stormed out of the office.

When he got out of the elevator and sprinted up the last few steps to the top floor, his heart pounded up to his throat. He knew you wouldn’t be there yet, your way was too far for that, but he was glad he still had a few minutes to get his breath under control.

Nervously, he looked at his watch when you still hadn’t shown up ten minutes later. Had you only made a joke of him? He wouldn’t be surprised at least. He was about to turn around and go back to his office when you rushed through the door to the roof.

“I’m sorry it took so long!” you shouted to him as you walked towards him. In one hand you held a plastic bag which you cheerfully waved around in the air. 

“No problem,” he replied and grinned like a Cheshire cat. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but your heart jumped when you saw him.

“I brought us something to eat. I’ve seen the last few weeks that you always take lunch breaks at this hour.” You got your purchase out of the bag and Jungkook wondered when you had the time to buy it all. It was like a little picnic, from fruit to small sandwiches. On closer inspection, he realized that these had to be homemade.

“Wow,” he just said speechless, but then frowned after a short thought. “And who’s spying on whom now?”

You had to laugh. “It is not what you think.” 

“They always say that,” Jungkook mumbled smilingly and biting into the first sandwich. Surprised, his eyes widened. “That’s so good!” he exclaimed with a half-full mouth and you couldn’t help grinning. 

“I’m glad,” you said satisfied and began to eat too. 

Several minutes passed in which you just sat next to each other and happily ate lunch. Every now and then Jungkook gave a satisfied sigh when something tasted particularly good and you felt how the blush didn’t want to disappear from your face.

“Why did you want to meet me,” he broke the silence after some time when you ate up. “And why did you bother to make all of this?”

There they were again; the many questions. You waited a moment with your answer to find the right words before sighing. “I felt a little bad after last Friday.”

Jungkook looked at you confused. 

“You just wanted to walk me home and I reacted a little annoyed. That wasn’t fair of me,” you explained to him and he pulled his eyebrows up in surprise.

“Don’t be sorry for that! After all, I wasn’t too nice to you in the supermarket either.”

“Do you ever tell me what this was all about?” you asked him. 

You didn’t miss how his eyes were rushing around the roof terrace in search of help, looking for an answer. “I-I don’t know,” he stuttered and a slight blush stretched across his cheeks. “I just had a bad day, I guess.”

You suspiciously pulled up an eyebrow. “That sounds like a very bad excuse for me, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Why do you always call me Jeon Jungkook?” The suddenness of the question made you speechless for a moment. Either that or his big, brown eyes, which looked at you expectantly.

“Does that bother you?”

“That is not the point, I asked you a question first.”

Damn, he wouldn’t let up…

You started collecting the trash in the empty plastic bag so your hands were busy with something. “I’m just afraid if I call you by your first name we’ll go beyond this level of acquaintance and eventually get too close.” 

Now it was out and there was no going back. Once the letters stumbled out from the tongue into the world and took their first steps, there was no chance of catching them again and locking them up. They were visible to the whole world.

“Would that be so bad?” He put a hand on yours that had still clasped the handles of the bag. Your gaze fell on them for a second before you lost yourself in his eyes again. Only now did you notice how close you two were. 

Had he come closer?

Oh, God, he wasn’t just getting closer, he was getting closer every second. You felt his hot breath on your face and closed your eyes. You could already feel his soft lips slightly touching yours before you pulled yourself together and turned your head to the side. 

You could literally hear his heart and expectations falling on the cold, wet floor of the roof terrace. Like a heartlessly crumpled sheet of paper on which a bad idea was scribbled down.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your eyes still closed. You didn’t dare to open them, not after the warm hand on yours and the breath that had lovingly caressed your face had disappeared.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook replied, but you heard in his voice that it wasn’t that at all. “I guess you don’t want to be with some weird guy who almost smashed his forehead on the desk.”

Your heart contracted painfully when you realized it wasn’t just a kiss for Jungkook. There was nothing half-hearted for him. Either completely or not at all and you had just taken that decision away from him.

“That’s not the reason, Jungkook,” you disagreed and looked at him. His gaze was fixed on his feet and he visibly pulled himself together not to look at you.

“No, I understand. Thank you for the food,” he said and quickly walked to the door leading to the stairwell.

“Fuck,” you said as the heavy metal door fell loudly into the lock behind Jungkook. You wanted to let yourself go, just be yourself. But you were sure when Jungkook knew your true self that he wanted nothing more to do with you. All the packages were too big, which you had taped neatly with duct tape and stowed away in the last corner of your being. In the last years a thick layer of dust and several cobwebs had accumulated on them.

And Jungkook would definitely need more than a simple feather duster. And after your action just now you were not sure whether he would want that at all. And you were even less sure if you wanted him to want it.

The heavy stone in your stomach pit, representing your guilty conscience, only grew bigger and heavier as you saw that Jungkook had placed one of the room dividers in front of his seat. Every time you peered across your monitor into the other building, your gaze fell on the yellowed, ugly wall.

You didn’t want to upset Jungkook like that, but to be honest you didn’t expect him to take it one step further so quickly. You thought he was a little more shy. That’s why you noticed him in the first place.

You remembered very well the moment when your eyes met for the first time. Even from a distance you could have seen how he was visibly embarrassed by his little accident and you could have sworn that a red haze had spread over his cheeks.

Again your gaze fell on the yellowed room divider, which you cursed inwardly. If you were honest with yourself, however, it was not the room divider but rather yourself you were angry at. Even if Jungkook had not stormed away directly, you would not have known what to say.

Your last relationship had been difficult, your entire current life situation was difficult. You had taken this job to get into a new, better environment. Getting to know new people wasn’t easy and you didn’t know what had gotten into you a few weeks ago. You had been so motivated to go out, experience new things and just be free.

The old and all too familiar thoughts had come back faster than you had been fond of. They were like a boomerang. No matter how far you threw them away from you, they always came back to you. And if you weren’t careful, they would hit you unprepared.

Nevertheless, one thing was clear to you: you liked Jungkook. Very much so. And that was worth fighting for.

You made your mind up about it and you wanted to do it this time. You would talk to him and after you had talked, everything would be fine between you again. 

That was your mantra when you left work on time, took a look over your monitor, which blocked the view of Jungkook like the last hours. But you were lucky and looked over at the right moment. The dark-haired man was just on his way back to his seat, a coffee cup in one hand. 

It gave you a little sting that he didn’t even look at you. It was as if the entire building you were in didn’t exist at all. You suppressed this thought and quickly made your way to the train station. You would make up for it, you convinced yourself again.

“Good evening,” a voice unknown to you greeted you and you looked surprised at the cash register, behind which a stranger was sitting. 

“Hi,” you said meekly and tried to remember what you wanted to buy. You went straight to the wine department, where you looked at the many different brands and types in a bit of a state of perplexity. You hardly ever drank alcohol, let alone wine, and you were a little overwhelmed. 

After a few minutes of thinking you grabbed the wine, of which only two bottles were left on the shelf. When so many people drank these, it meant something good, didn’t it?

The choice for the chips, the ice cream and the two frozen pizzas was fortunately easier for you and a little later you stood relieved at the checkout. Outside, a train arrived at the station and you stretched your neck to see if he got out. 

You were glad that this was not the case and that you would have at least ten more minutes left. You didn’t know what you would have done if he had been in that train. With Taehyung at the cash desk you would have risked it and stopped Jungkook. You wouldn’t dare do that with the gloomy looking guy behind the counter. The way he scanned your shopping, he would either have called the police or he wouldn’t have cared at all. 

You didn’t want to take that chance.

“Have you only recently started working here?” you asked while you were stowing your purchases in a bag.

The dark-haired guy looked up and seemed surprised if you really meant him. “Yes,” he replied after a short hesitation. 

“Probably makes sense where Taehyung fired Michael,” you mumbled and gave the money to the cashier. 

“You and Taehyung know each other?” he asked and gave you the change.

You nodded. “I go shopping here more often and he recognized me at some point. So I wouldn’t necessarily speak of knowing. We only know… about our mutual existence,” you tried to find the right words. “Are you friends with him?”

The other one shook his head slightly. “We were at the same college and were at the same parties from time to time, but otherwise…” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m Yoongi, by the way.”

You smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, Yoongi, I’m Y/N. Then maybe we’ll see each other more often now.” You said goodbye and went to the stop equipped with your bag. It was already cold in the evening, which you noticed shivering when you sat down on the bench. You pulled your thin jacket a little tighter around your shoulders and hoped that Jungkook would be in the next train.

Five minutes later you realized that he wasn’t. Even the next train had no trace of him. Weird. You knew that he often worked overtime like you. Nevertheless, you would have guessed that he would have finished work by now.

You watched your breath coming out of your mouth in a light grey cloud into the cold evening air. After two more trains you thought about how long you would wait for him. Meanwhile you couldn’t feel your toes any longer and you had to press your jaws together so that you didn’t rattle your teeth anymore.

From the last two trains, which retracted, hardly any people had got out. You didn’t believe that you overlooked him and you certainly didn’t miss him either. You had looked carefully. Your eyes fell on the big clock, whose pointers were advancing incessantly. With every minute it seemed to laugh at you and you asked yourself what you were doing here.

Just after eight, you lifted up the bag and couldn’t suppress the sigh. A puddle of melted ice had formed on the bottom of the bag, and when you touched the pizzas you noticed that they had thawed as well. The cardboard was already soaked and arched when you lifted it slightly. Sadly you let them fall back into the bag and didn’t care if the sticky remains of the ice were spread everywhere. You had lost your appetite anyway. 

You took that as a sign and stood up. You threw the bag into the nearest garbage can and stuffed it a little angrily into the small opening. 

“I always go shopping to throw things away, too,” said a voice and you flinched. Somewhat frightened you turned around and almost put your hand around the pepper spray you always carried with you as you breathed a sigh of relief.

Yoongi came up to you and had a slight smile on his lips, which surprised you. “I’d rather not ask why you didn’t get fifty meters away after more than two hours, would I?”

You gave it up and left the bag stuck half in the trash can and half still out of it. “No, don’t ask,” you said and looked at the floor.

“I’ll do it anyway,” he gave back and elicited a little smile from you. “Did you wait for someone?”

You nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Then he’s an ass if he just stood you up,” Yoongi said.

“No, he didn’t stand me up. We hadn’t actually agreed to meet,” you made it clear directly. “And if one is the ass, it’s actually me.”

“Oh?” Yoongi looked at you with his eyebrows up. “Y/N, I know we haven’t known each other long, but if you want to talk about it…”

“Yoongi, that’s super sweet, but… What’s the best way to say this without sounding completely conceited?” You looked at him thinking.

“Just say it, I don’t blame you,” Yoongi reassured you with a short hand gesture.

“I don’t want you to expect anything more than a friendship–”

To your surprise, Yoongi burst out laughing. “Oh God, no. Y/N, don’t get me wrong, you’re very attractive, even I can see that. But I’m already going steady,” he told you, “and besides, what kind of person would I be to hit on you while you’re telling me your man problems?”

You joined his laughter and right away there seemed to be some weight taken from your shoulders which kept pushing you down more and more this day. “Thank you, Yoongi. Maybe I’ll get back to that. Your girlfriend is lucky, by the way. Not everyone would be as courteous as you and offer their help to almost strangers.”

You didn’t know if you were imagining it or if the twilight was playing a trick on you, but you could swear that a light pink glow was spreading on his cheeks. “I’ll tell him,” he replied with a grin and your eyes widened a bit as you noticed your mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that…” you said sheepishly.

“It’s okay, it’s not like I wrote it on my face,” he calmed you and your conscience. “Do you live far from here? Shall I call you a taxi?”

“Not necessary, I live only a few minutes walk away. Actually, just down the street back there and then in a side street.” You pointed in the right direction. 

Yoongi nodded. “Then get home safe.”

“You too,” you gave back and finally made your way home. 

What you didn’t know was that Yoongi got on the train five minutes later and was almost run over by a tired looking Jungkook. He almost missed his stop because he had dozed off for a moment. When he woke up briefly from his restless half sleep and noticed his mistake, he had jumped up quickly and left the train. 

Yoongi was holding back a remark as he entered the train and looked at the other young man before the train had passed him.

It had been two days in which nothing new had happened at work. Jungkook still had the room divider in front of his window and you were disappointed every time. You tried to understand him, a rejection was never great. But he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yourself. Or your feelings. 

You knew that you were not showing your feelings openly. Yet Jungkook seemed to have thought at least in the slightest way that you were interested in him too, didn’t he? Otherwise he wouldn’t have dared to try this approach at all.

You sighed as your gaze fell on the clock and you packed your things together. Another uneventful day that had just passed you by. Now that Jungkook had isolated himself from you, you noticed how much he had previously sweetened your day.

Even before you talked for the first time at the supermarket checkout, you had often looked over to him and sometimes watched him work. In your head it sounded more strange than it had seemed to you at the time. It had simply been nice to watch him do his daily tasks. The fact that he looked incredibly good at the same time was of course a plus. Nevertheless, you had the feeling that he was not aware of his effect at all.

With slightly drooping shoulders you said goodbye to your work colleagues and made your way to the clinic. Normally, you would leave one hour earlier every Tuesday, but your therapist had set the appointment for Thursday at short notice. You were fine with it, or at least you didn’t care. 

The clinic was in the opposite direction to your regular route and every time you arrived at the stop you thought for a moment whether you should just take the other stairway down and head home. So far you had always been able to pull yourself together and decided against it. 

Until a few weeks ago everything had been halfway okay and you only had an appointment with your therapist every four weeks. But when your ex-boyfriend suddenly stood in front of your door, old emotions and thoughts came up again and she had given you a week’s sick leave.

Butterflies flew inside your belly when you remembered that Jungkook had noticed that you were not at work. However, they died quickly when you remembered that you might have scared him away forever. They now lay at the bottom of the pit of your stomach and began to rot. That would at least explain the nausea that was gradually rising inside you.

The way was unspectacular, even though you were already looking forward to being back in your own four walls. You weren’t sure if it was because it was getting dark again so early, but you’d rather not leave your apartment at all. But you knew that this could quickly become dangerous. 

Not for others, just for you. It always began with the isolation, which came creeping, but constant. And one day, mostly in the evening, it came over you and devoured you whole. No wonder you had hardly any friends when you had to hide right back home because of that little darkness.

Most friends had turned away from you when the relationship between you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. Over the years you had more or less built up the same circle of friends and most of your so-called friends had taken his side.

The fact that he had cheated on you several times seemed to be of secondary importance.

You opened the glass door to the clinic and tried to put your thoughts in order. Going into a therapy talk with the ball and jumble of thoughts would make the hour rather counterproductive. But maybe it would at least help to bring some clarity back into your head.

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs. Rhee greeted you. You weren’t sure whether it was a good or bad sign that she knew you by name. Still, she gave you a good feeling when she smiled at you friendly. “Mrs. Chung is ready any moment. Take a seat in the waiting room for a minute please.”

You thanked and sat down in the empty room. In contrast to other doctors, your therapist was mostly relatively empty and you were very happy about it. You didn’t want people to see you when you came out of the session covered in tears. Even if the people here would probably understand it best. Here everyone was sitting in the same boat. Or were at least on the same ship, only working at different stations. And at some point, you hoped, you would finally reach the land.

A few minutes later Mrs. Chung called you up and the hour that you most feared the whole week began. You never knew beforehand how the hour would go. Sometimes it depended on your mood, but often it didn’t. But fact was that you always felt like shit afterwards. You knew that there was no panacea that would suddenly dissolve all your problems into thin air.

Nevertheless, you had imagined this whole therapy thing to be easier. The fact that it would be hard work on yourself had been kept secret from you. 

Nevertheless, it was good to unload all your thoughts and feelings on one person. Without having to worry whether you would pull the other person down with what you said and the mood being at the bottom of their socks. That was Mrs. Chung’s job.

You told her about Jungkook and how you had behaved. She listened to you attentively and took notes from time to time when you had said something interesting to her. 

“What are your feelings towards him?” she asked you after you told her about your failed attempt to make it better.

You didn’t have to think long. “He’s the first person I think I can trust since Suk-won.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Chung replied as you made no effort to continue your thoughts. “Are you afraid that Jungkook might lie to you too?”

You tried to suppress the unpleasant feeling that was rising inside you and shook your head. “I think he is unlike others. He is so… different, I can’t express it any other way”. You rubbed your tired eyes, which slowly started to hurt. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is going to help. Jungkook made it more than clear to me that I blew my chance with him. Then why are we still talking about him at all?”

Mrs. Chung looked at you over her dark glasses for a moment before she dropped her notepad. 

“Y/N.” Oh oh, if she started like that, the next part couldn’t be good. “You first came to me almost a year ago, losing all hope and trust in other people, especially men. You were so introverted and couldn’t let anyone get to you. When you came into the room last week, I immediately noticed a change in your mood. We’re talking about Jungkook because I’m sure he has something to do with it. He is the first male person you have anything good to say about. And even with a smile on your lips.”

Oh.

You let your head sink and had to pull yourself together, not to touch your lips with your fingertips. You didn’t even notice that you smiled. You felt the blush rising in your face, and your therapist’s checking gaze and self-satisfied nod didn’t necessarily make it any better.

“All right, Y/N. I want you to try to have a clarifying conversation with Jungkook by next week. I’m sure you’ll feel better after that,” Mrs. Chung concluded and closed her notebook. She stood up and shook your hand to say goodbye.

“Should I leave the door open or close it?” you asked when you were halfway out the door. 

“You can leave it open, my next patient should be here any minute,” she replied. 

You nodded and left her office. As you turned the corner of the narrow hallway, you accidentally ran into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t–” The rest of the sentence got stuck in your throat when you looked up and looked into a face you knew well.

“Y/N?” Jungkook looked at you with a questioning expression, as if he wasn’t quite sure that you were really standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I think it’s relatively obvious what to do at a therapist,” you replied evasively.

“Wow, I mean… I didn’t think I’d meet you here,” Jungkook said, and he also seemed a little embarrassed.

You laughed softly. “The therapist is not exactly the most pleasant place to meet someone.”

Jungkook agreed. “That’s probably true.” His laughter died and he looked at you seriously. “Can we perhaps talk? About… about what happened?”

“Yes! Of course,” you said a little too euphorically and saw the little smile that played around his lips. 

“Will that be too late for you tonight? I already know where you live,” Jungkook suggested and you shook your head.

“No, that suits me perfectly,” you smiled. The sooner you would have got that out of the way, the better. 

“Well, I’m looking forward to that. Then see you later,” Jungkook said and went in the direction you had come from. You took a quick look at the clock and quickened your walk to the train station.

It was half past six, so you had until about eight to get your apartment in shape. Until you were at home… A good hour remained for you and you accelerated your steps further. Your apartment looked like a medium sized battlefield at the moment and you wouldn’t like to show Jungkook your underwear scattered on the living room floor. At least not on the first date.

Was that even one? A date? He just wanted to talk to you about you stopping his kiss. That wasn’t really a pleasant topic for a date. But what was that on the roof of his office building? You could have called that one. If all your dates were going out like that, you just hoped it wasn’t one.

Hello! As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I would love to hear your thoughts about it, so any kind of feedback is really appreciated. Because I probably won’t publish a new chapter till then, I already want to wish you a Merry Christmas and I hope you can enjoy the few days off! ♥️

[midnightartemis]

Chapters: 32/? Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Finn/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Maz Kanata, Larma D'Acy, Amilyn Holdo, Snoke (Star Wars), Boba Fett, Bossk (Star Wars), Armitage Hux, Chewbacca (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abuse, Drug Use, Suicide Attempt, Star-crossed, Dreams, Alternate Universe - High School, High School, School Dances, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Multiverse, Reincarnation, Attempted Sexual Assault, Assault, Graphic Description, Teenage Drama, Horny Teenagers, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Past Drug Use, Drug Dealing

Chapter Three

Tuesday goes by without incident, though Latin will kill me. Rose is more than happy to walk me to my classes, chatting happily about her own, and I’m happy for the company for once. Poe and Finn are in my P.E. class and they’re so competitive. Rose tells me it’s okay to take them down a notch if I can. I’m athletic, but usually never got the chance to stay in a place long enough to participate in anything.

Wednesday rolls around and Rose is buzzing about Friday as we eat lunch. My eyes search for Ben, but I can’t find him anymore. “What’s Friday?”

“Oh, my god. I completely forgot to add you to the group chat.” Rose palms her face and gets out her phone. I sheepishly hand her my half-broken iPhone but she doesn’t bat an eye. “Poe, Finn, and I are having a little get together to celebrate the start of the school year. Please, come. I know you have to ask Maz.”

I’d never been invited to a party before. “I would love that. I’ll ask her tonight.”

I hope Maz said yes. Things were going smoothly there.

Rose and I left lunch early so that we could walk together to class. Rose liked to show up early to vocal class to help set up and I was more than happy to have a few minutes alone, even if it met sitting in awkward silence with him.

I open the classroom door and he’s there sitting where he was Monday. I take my seat across from him and pull out my headphones to listen to music for a bit. I scroll for a while and settle on The Lumineers’ Ophelia album. It takes a lot for me to not dance and hum along, so I pull out my drawing notebook and start in on practicing drawing 3D shapes.

I feel his eyes on me and I look up, realizing that I’ve been bobbing along to the music. He looks away and I think there’s a hint of a smile on his face. I flush. What is it with him? He didn’t look like a hardcore drug dealer, not like the ones I’ve seen. He looked quiet and lonely. Soft. Dammit, Rey.

He looks up again and sees me watching him. He scowls, his mood instantly souring. I look away sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Did they get to you, too?”

“What?” My heart races at his voice. My eyes meet his and they’re looking over me intensely.

“The golden trio.” His voice is low, angry.

Poe, Finn, and Rose? I frown. “I-”

Before I can say anymore, the door opens and Mrs. Tico walks in, cheerful as ever. “Hi, Rey! Ben!”

“Hi, Mrs. Tico.” I smile back, but inside my stomach is rolling with anxiety. What did he mean ‘ get to me?’ Rose had made it pretty clear what happened and I doubted Poe just hated Ben for shits and giggles. I look back at him and he’s concentrating on his notebook as if nothing had happened. I scowl and go back to my own work.

“How was school, hun?” Maz picks me up in her bug after school to take me to therapy.

“Good.” I smile. “I have a mountain of homework already, but everyone is really nice.”

“Good, good.” We drive without talking, just listening to the radio quietly. My stomach turns as I think about the party. I cross my fingers and ask.

“Maz?”

“Yeah?” she glances at me.

“I was wondering- well… Rose and Poe and Finn were getting together Friday night and they invited me. And I was wondering if I can go?” I bite my lip and look at her hopefully.

Maz smiles. “Ah… the infamous Dameron Back to School get-together.”

My eyes widen. “Oh. Oh. I didn’t realize it was a party-party. Nevermind.”

“No, Rey. Go! Have fun. Enjoy your friends. Just no drinking or drugs. I’m here to keep you safe and healthy, not ruin your high school experience.” Her eyes sparkle, but there’s a seriousness to them. “11:30 PM. At the latest. Okay?”

I nod, trying to hide my excitement. “11:30. Got it.”

We pull into a parking lot of a small brick office building downtown and Maz walks me in. We go to the second floor where there’s a small waiting room. It’s very zen with comfy chairs, light incense, peaceful art, and meditation music in the background. There are two doors, both closed. Maz and I sit and wait until the door on the left opens. A man walks out and he’s got a wide, open face covered in a grey beard and eyes that radiate kindness and knowing. I instantly feel at ease when he smiles. “Rey?”

I nod and stand. He walks over and sticks out his hand and I shake it. “I’m Luke Skywalker. Let’s go in and have Maz fill out some paperwork and then we will get started on your introductory session.”

Did everyone in this town know Maz? We fill out the usual paperwork in Luke’s office. It’s just as zen as outside. There’s a Buddha sitting on a bookshelf perfectly curated with books on mental health and well being. A fountain trickles gently in the corner. Everything is in order, at balance.

“I’ll be waiting in the lobby.” Maz signs the last paper and leaves us. I take a seat on the couch and Luke sits in the chair across from me.

“So, Rey,” he says with a small sigh. “I’m guessing this isn’t your first time in therapy?”

I laugh a little. “No.”

“Well, I have a few questions that we can discuss, but first, I just want to give you a little overview of what our plan is if you choose to move forward. I like to do a little one-on-one session before placing you in a group. I run a few groups, and it’s all just about trying to place you in the right one where I think you have the best chance of learning and listening to your peers and sharing your own stories. Sounds good?”

I nod.

“So, tell me about yourself, Rey. Your childhood, things you like to do… Anything you’d like in whatever way you want to tell me.”

“Well…” I take a deep breath. The story in my head is one that’s carefully rehearsed, told over and over. “My parents abandoned me when I was six. I was found by some workers abandoned in the Jakku city dump. And they couldn’t find my parents, so I got placed into the system. I jumped around a lot as a kid. No one really wanted me. And then when I got older, I got tired of the abuse and the neglect, so I started gathering evidence on my fosters and getting their licenses revoked. But that just met that I jumped around even more. I’ve just kinda learned how to survive and take care of myself.”

“That sounds hard and exhausting.”

I nod and sigh. “Yeah.”

“What about now? You’ve only been at Maz’s a few days, from my understanding. How’s that going?”

“Good. I think.” I reply. Luke says nothing, waiting for me to fill the silence. “It’s a lot to process. Everything changed so quickly and she’s unlike any foster I’ve ever stayed with. It’s… It’s almost like it's too good to be true… And, I guess I’m worried that it will be. Or I’ll fuck up and it will all be taken from me.”

“Do you think you deserve a good foster home?”

I can’t meet his eyes. Tears prickle at my own. “No.”

“Why not?” Dang, this guy is good.

“I’m not anyone special… There are a lot more kids out there who are a lot more deserving.”

“So… What I’m hearing is that you spent the last few years catching abusers in the system… But you’re not deserving of a good home?” He raises his eyebrow at me. I see his point, but I still can’t reconcile myself with it. “You sound pretty special to me, Rey.”

“I’m not anyone special.” I shrug. “I just didn’t want other people to go through what I have.”

“Do you feel that’s your duty? To save other people?”

I mull over his question and nod slowly.

“There aren’t many people out there who would put others before their own personal wellbeing and safety. What things do you like doing for yourself?”

“I like listening to music… And working with my hands.”

Luke smiles. “Good. Those are really good ways to take care of yourself.”

“They help me a lot when I need a break from the outside world. It can be really… Overwhelming.”

“Tell me about that.” Luke nudges me in that direction gently.

“Well, I don’t know. It’s like… I can get really overwhelmed in crowds. If there’s a lot of noise or people or things going on. It gets hard to think and concentrate.”

“Like at school?”

I nod.

“Is there anywhere you go to get away from the noise and let yourself relax for a bit?”

“Usually after lunch, I go to the art room because there’s no one there before class usually.” Not no one. Might as well be no one though.

“Good. It’s important to create room for yourself and thoughts and to listen to yourself.” Luke smiles. “Tell me about school. Are you enjoying your classes so far?”

“Yeah. Principal Organa was really happy with my interest in science and math. She put me in physics, and pre-calc, and small engines and I really like all three so far. It just makes sense to me. More than English or Latin or Social Studies. Though, I don’t mind Social Studies either. And psychology is interesting, too.”

“Very interesting.”

I laugh. “Right, I’m talking to a psychology master.”

“I have a group on Thursdays after school. It’s some of your age group dealing with some similar things as you. Is that something you would be interested in?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I’ll have you start next Thursday so I can let them know that the group is expanding a little. How does that sound?”

“‘Good.”

Luke nods and stands. “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for today. It was great to meet you, Rey.”

I stand and let him lead me out of the room.

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

... apparently, these are becoming a weekly endeavor. (watch me getting an autoblock as soon as I post this) ( AO3 )

tl;dr Hawks is in high spirits (no pun intended), and Rumi’s Intrigued™

Meanwhile, somewhere not too far away, a vaguely annoyed Dabi is sneezing a whole lot, questioning whether his feeble ass is allergic to feathers.

(((I almost chose an angsty ending. Almost. But apparently I cannot do that with series and games that are not depression station in the first place, F.)))

“Say… you are in a reeeeeally good mood today, aren'tcha?” Rumi notes between two obnoxious milkshake slurps next to the remaining morsels of their lunch while taking a full round on the revolving barstool. It’s a Monday, it’s a conference day, a boring conference day where she’s about to kill herself out of sheer boredom… and Hawks, who’s usually also only present in body and ready to passive-aggressively tear the thing down, is radiating a hundred different levels and shades of sunlight. Of course she’s gonna jump on this.

“Huh?” the hero replies, returning to the present; the pen he’s got bouncing between two fingers while reading through the despair-inducingly thick paper pile in front of him (most likely invitations and offers of various kinds) never stops in its fast, metronome-like movement. The little smile that's been plastered over his face all day perks up a little as he looks at her, too. He’s obviously missed the question directed at him, but doesn't seem to be bothered by it.

“I said you are in a good fucking mood, twerp,” his friend repeats with a click of the tongue. Something’s definitely up. “And that you didn't catch it is all the damn proof I need. Haven't seen you this well-adjusted since… ever, actually.” Slurrrp.

“Aaah… guess so,” he muses with the rhythm slowing and a thoughtful expression for a change.

“I had the best fucking sleep ‘since ever’ is all.” The pause preceding this is uncharacteristically long, and his persistent smile returns before he even reaches the conclusion.

“You slept?” chortles Rumi in disbelief, then starts choking as some of the remaining milkshake finds its way to her lungs. The plausible fact that this alone could make him feel alive should not be this funny.

Hawks’ smile widens into a grin and he leans onto an elbow, shoving the documents aside. “Seven hours and thirteen whole-ass minutes, bitch. It's a new record!” It wasn't exactly that much, probably just under seven if he wanted to be honest. But point stands.

Once having regained composure, the heroine lets the information linger for a few seconds. Hmm. Hmmm… “Explains why you are functional and were late for the meeting. What it doesn’t explain is how you, Mr. 10 minutes ahead of everyone’s schedule… early bird extraordinaire… slept in.” That goofy expression is not his usual one, no. There's a snoop to be had, here. After a deep, deep, grin-ridden sigh, she turns back to him, leaning on the counter as well. “Has it got anything to do with dodging, like, all of my invitations lately? Hmm?” She wiggles her brows at him.

Man… she just went there, didn't she. Unfortunately, the persistent smile refuses to cover for him. In fact, it's more incriminating than anything, creeping wider once more. Well then. “Hasn't got as much to do with it as you would like, fam. There's only about… 15% of overlap.” Plus some change.

Maybe more, now that he thinks about it… because the disturbingly domestic (and even worse, occasionally comforting and enjoyable) shenanigans with the League have long outgrown the ‘meeting up with actual S-rank villains in my fake free time because spy lmao’ category. Rumi wouldn't buy that anymore, she's seen enough to know that he's full of shit.

There's a glint of a hunter’s in Rumi’s eyes… a hunter’s that has found fresh track. Her grin turns into a triumphant sneer. “So you do admit to seeing someone.”

The smile on Hawks’ face gains a streak of concern. “Please don't make me think about it in those terms,” he moans, furrowing his brows. “Any of the people I've been dealing with are freaks of nature.”

“So are we,” she notes, not missing a beat.

That earns a similarly fast fling-and-point of a pen in her general direction. “Word.”

She snickers. “Come on…! Tell me about that dreamy 15% that has you so pepped. I'm dying to know~”

He thinks about it for a bit. Then, the feathers of Hawks’ wings rustle, and he himself takes a gander around the restaurant; there's mostly heroes, sidekicks and managers gathered in the building in the first place, who are similarly disinterested in each other's dwindling lunch break times and private lives. While assessing the room, he's silently weighing his options as to how much he can say, and how he should choose his words.

“So… I've been roped into a kind of internship in the past months that I wanted nothing to do with, and am still hella iffy about,” he begins, keeping it just low enough for it to be not overly suspicious.

“Good start!”

“I know, right? Anyway… it's dirty work, but turned out to be tolerable, most of the time. The coworkers are all bonkers, but I've already come to the terrifying conclusion that I'm not all that different.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Hush, I'm telling your story…! Who you might be interested in, I think, is the contact person that keeps a close eye on me even today.”

“OOOH, this is getting spicy~ are they, like, twice your age? You are into older people, after all. Oh, and dude or lady? Other, maybe? You are being really cagey.”

“What did I just say?! Also, I'm not into older people. This peep is up to five years my senior, tops.”

“Never had to listen to yourself when going on about Endeavor, have you!? And see? You just admitted the peeper is older!”

“That’s fan rambling, and ever since I had to work with him, I have held my horses in check, hon. As for the other thing? Honestly, I never asked about their birthday or age, but I've been getting older sib vibes. Could be younger or as old as I am, for all I know. But let me fucking continue. SO… we've been getting along okay lately. Way too well, actually, considering the mutually hostile ~strictly professional~ gig we both started out with. Not that we're not assholes to each other still, but we are… like, frenemies.”

“Strangely mysterious person is already starting to sound like you.”

“…”

“Okay, Pot, okay!! Stop looking all disappointed and tell me about Kettle.”

“… Kettle will be a great stand-in name, thanks for the contribution. You are allowed to acknowledge this with a hum.”

“Mhmm.”

“Excellent. Back on topic… as you know, my yesterday… had been a thing.” For the first time that day, the smile disappears entirely.

Rumi hums again with a nod, which doesn't get shot down. From what Hawks was willing to share about family, it had been obvious that he wasn't on particularly good terms with his parents in the first place, but…

“Long story short, yesterday was also internship day, and I was in a pretty bad mood when we met. Tired, anxious, angry, you name it, I had it. Thankfully there's no news coverage, and I didn't want to bring it up, either… but Kettle… knows me well enough to tell when I’m faking it. And how to push my buttons. The prodding got the best of me, eventually; really, this irritating bitch can get under my skin with an efficiency you can only dream of… but anyway, I was so pissed... like, borderline feral, that even they were surprised. Which, in turn, made me feel like a wreck once I realized what I was doing. So they hammered the last nail into the coffin by putting on their calmest, most civil face, -a rarity, really,- to ask the single, logical question in that situation. And I caved. For a dreadful moment I honest to god thought Kettle would make fun of me, you know. What kind of number two hero has their mother stuck in detox every three months…? Fuck, if not for the bar fight, I wouldn't even know she relapsed two whole years ago already! But, uh… they… seemed to understand. We had a therapy session for peasants at my place, then. Kinda like what we have sometimes. And that's when it really got…” Tongue click. “… heavy.”

Rumi’s ears have been attentive and alert, but hearing this makes them part. She takes a second-long break; there's something that usually helps Hawks sleep a little better. And heart-to-hearts tend to push him over the brink, hell, some nights they do this just so he can get some rest. “… You cried.”

With some delay, he nods. “… I did.”

She lets out a tired sigh. “Managed to weird ‘em out, huh.”

“Actually… it ended up being a half drunk weeping contest for the emotionally constipated,” he muses, eyes staring into a scene from the past, located somewhere past the pen in his right hand. “They opened up a little to me, too. Which was new, but… comforting. I learned that while my mother frequents the station, Kettle’s mom has been hospitalized with a severe case of mental breakdown since they were a teen. They miss her… but cannot visit. They fear that showing their scarred face would make her relive the freak show that resulted in her being sent there in the first place.”

“ … Jesus. Both of you sound like the life of the party when running a hashtag-mood.”

The remark brings back the shadow of his happy smile. “I guess so. But, guess what?”

Hers returns as well; they reached the nice part. “What?”

“I ended up leaning onto Kettle… and them onto me. We hugged it out… and stayed like that for like an hour, the sniffling messes we were. And in the morning… I woke up in the arms of someone, warm and safe… sun shining into the room, little bastard relatives chirping outside. I could even smell fresh coffee being made someplace, coming from the open window. And that… that felt divine.”

Rumi takes a delighted sigh. “The life, bitch. That's… the life.”

“Yeah.”

They lie around like that for a few minutes, sprawled on the counter as the noises of the still busy restaurant creep back into their little bubble before it inevitably pops. Hawks breaks the comfortable silence then. “All in all… I admit that you have been right about me all along.”

Her feet bounce an increasingly impatient rhythm against the metal frame as her mood and blood pressure lift back to normal. “Right about what? You are a felon for not supporting pugs, an abomination for even daring to look at pineapple pizza, and an absolute disgrace for turning down ghost peppers! Be more clear, dammit.”

Hawks tosses the long forgotten pen onto the form pile and leans in closer, hiding his mouth with his hands from view. He breathes it in a whisper so low, only people with superhuman hearing or big ole rabbit ears could catch his voice right now. It’s time to make her day, too. “Rumi, I think… I'm hella gay.”

She reflexively does a little hop on the stool as a very high pitched “Holy shit…!” escapes her mouth, turning some heads. Seeing that it's the two of them up to their usual shenanigans, the few people return to their own worries and discussions.

It takes her inhuman effort not to screech like a hare on the spot; punching the air and gasping for it, she calms down eventually. Having found a semblance of self-restraint, she leans back down in, aggressively whispering to him: “First of all, told you so, and more importantly!! Bitch, you're in love, and didn't tell me?!”

As much as Hawks enjoyed watching her outburst, he finds himself sinking behind his arms now. The incessant grin is back in its full glory and is starting to hurt his cheeks, which have turned very pink in color. An unconvincing “nah” is the only thing he can muster.

Rumi breaks into some light-hearted cackling as she moves over, then gently peels Hawks’ defenses off of him to have a closer look. “Bruuuh…! You are in full rose textured shojo manga mode. That's adorable.”

There’s an attempt at rebuilding said defenses. “Shut it, you overgrown furry.”

She’s unperturbed by the lukewarm defensive taunt. “And you kinda smell like smoke from up close, too~ It’s your first love, right? Aaah, baby boy’s growing up, I’m so happy for you…!” With that, Hawks receives a spine shattering hug.

“Rumimyribs,” is all he can squeak before the gesture does more than just some joint popping. He’s had a near-death experience with these ever since the first time she did that, holy shit.

“Hee hee~ I didn’t forget you’ve got bones made of glass, don’t worry.” She pops back down onto her seat while Hawks gets over the scare. “Sooo... when are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“It’s… just a crush, man. He’s… not my boyfriend…” Even thinking about it feels weird… and saying it… really is something else.

She nods. “He doesn’t know it yet! Gotcha.”

Siiigh. “Girl, I can’t just…” STOP, stop… hold the damn phone right there. Ending that sentence would birth more questions to dodge, and he’s not up for brain work at the moment. With a dismissive wave, Hawks restarts the answer. “Anyway, you've seen him already at the very least, so there’s that.” That's all she needs to know- they both know a number of people with fucked-up faces, she won’t admit possibly having missed him, and this… will destroy her.

“… well shit. Now I'll stay up at night wondering who the fuck it might be.”

Bingo. “You’re welcome.”

“Asshole,” she huffs, swatting his hair before settling for a good ruffling. “… say, baby bird.”

“Hm?”

“Want a drink? It's on me. Let's pop one in honor of your heart throb and first crush.”

... uh-oh. “… Rumi.”

“I hope you know this calls for some supreme shit… let me look for a good place nearby, for after this hell is over.”

She's already typing into her phone. Oh no.

“Rumi.” This does not bode well. He has so much shit to do tomorrow. And here’s this pile of junk, most of which he’s yet to have a look at…

“How’s a Zombie sound?”

“RUMI,,,”

[grandthorkiday]

Mob AU “Playthings” Part 3

[Link to mob!au anon’s “Playthings" fic tag]

[Start at Part 1]*

(*Note: Link is editable for other parts, just change the number. For mobile users, tag is “playthings part1”)

Luck was smiling down on Val and Bruce.

No one came to take Loki in the middle of the night or the next morning. Loki even agreed at first to be released into Stephen Strange’s custody. Hela’s presence may have helped with that. Foster claimed as soon as the younger man saw his older sister he had immediately became more willing to cooperate with the doctors and nurses. He didn’t seem fazed when they told him he was being transferred to Strange’s private facility. He was more concerned that he had only one set of clothes and no cell phone.

He had made the trip out of the city well enough too. He drove in Hela’s car with Strange in the backseat. Neither sibling really spoke to one another. Hela mostly rehearsed what she was going to next: go and get clothes for Loki, go tell their Father he was safe, and then see about getting a phone. Loki simply made remarks about things he saw out the window: he’d eaten at that restaurant, stayed at that hotel, remembered that bodega. Strange in the back tried to merge their conversations, but the younger man didn’t take the bait.

The first hour at the facility too went remarkably well. Strange had just bought the mansion outside the city and converted it to a rehabilitation center and had yet to really attract clients outside of a few through the police department and local DAs. As of right now, Loki was his only live-in patient.

“Got the run of the place! I have two other people on my staff and a few housekeepers, but other than that you can think of it like a retreat from big city living!”

The trouble, Val had been informed when she arrived that afternoon, had arisen not long after Hela had left. One of the staff had suggested Loki take a shower and slip into some pajamas they would provide. To that they had gotten an icy response and a slammed door. Strange had then suggested that he should eat something; he had barely eaten his breakfast at the hospital and had been moving to the facility around lunchtime. Surely he was hungry.

“I am not eating until I get my clothes and phone.”

[read more cut]

It was a strange ultimatum, but no one was about to fight him. After that, things got worse. He had begun to pace, first in and out of rooms and then the halls. He asked how far they were from the city. When no one gave him a clear response, he became more distraught. He began to demand people’s phones. One of the housekeepers relented when he threatened to accuse her of stealing. Strange found him, thankfully, already attempting to call for an Uber.

“You can’t keep me here!!! I want to go home!”

That was around the time Val and Bruce arrived. Loki was going room to room screaming at the top of lungs, banging on furniture, and throwing things.

“I don’t know if I can safely release him to Odin’s custody,” Val admitted at one point as they heard a chair get thrown.

“I don’t think that’s the home he’s referring to,” Bruce said sadly.

“Neither do I,” Strange replied. “The way he interacted with Hela in the car, I think he wanted to distance himself from her. Make it easier to leave. He kept referring to places he’s been in the city. I think that was a, ‘Hey I’ll be fine, you’ll probably find me here.’”

“But he isn’t fine!” She motioned to the sound of more screaming.

“Oh, far from it. But people can get accustomed to pain and trauma.”

Loki stomped into the large entrance hall and toward the small group. “I. WANT. TO. GO. HOME!”

“Where’s home, Loki?” Strange asked calmly.

The young man glared at him nostrils flaring. “I didn’t agree to come here!”

“Actually, you did. This morning. You signed the waiver and everything.”

“I change my mind!”

“Not how this works, kiddo.”

“Well,” Bruce shuffled forward, hands in his pocket, “the door isn’t locked and there’s no gate. You could just walk out the front door.”

Loki gave the doctor a smug satisfied look and headed for the door. His hand had just touched the handle when Val spoke up.

“So, just fuck Thor, right?”

“What?”

“Fuck'em. I mean, you keep saying you want to help Thor-”

“I do.”

“Save Thor-”

“I do.”

“And you’re given an opportunity to do that and be free, but fuck all that because you want to go ‘home’.”

Strange sent a warning look but Bruce nodded to keep going.

Loki didn’t turn around but his shoulders had become incredibly tense and tight. His grip on the doorknob was a death grip.

“Nine years ago, I fucked up by you and Thor. I should have stayed behind and watched you overnight. Posted cops on that entire wing. Every time after that was a shit show. And now, I want to make it right. But you gotta help me. You gotta let Stephen here, and Bruce, and the staff help you. If we can help you, we can help Thor.”

The pause was long and silent. Faintly, one could hear the distant sound of traffic from the road. A few housekeepers had begun to clean up after Loki’s rampage. Strange’s cellphone buzzed in his pocket but he made no move to anwer it.

Loki turned back. His face was shiny and wet with tear tracks. “Okay.” It was said weakly, and very shakily, but it was a start.

“Okay,” Val repeated.

“I-I’m going to be in therapy?”

“When you’re up for it,” Strange spoke up at last. “This is your journey to recovery, not-”

“But the more I say can help Thor.”

“Y-yes, but most of our sessions could and will be confidential if you decide on that.”

“But you will tell part of them to the police and DA anyway. Because you work for them.”

“I work to help y-”

“DON’T PATRONIZE ME!” Loki shouted. “Just tell me, will it help?”

“Yes,” Strange said quickly. “Not only help therapeutic wise,” Loki glared at him, “and help with any investigations.”

“When do we start?”

“When do you want to start?” Bruce asked.

“Now. I want to start now.”

The three glanced at one another. He was willing to talk, and it would be stupid to look gift horse in the mouth.

“Alrighty,” Strange stretched, trying to make a nonchalant gesture under the circumstances, “I guess we can go to my office. And start from the beginning.”

~2009~

“I can’t believe it! After only one semester of being undecided, my Baby Brother has decided on his major!”

“I’m only three years younger than you!”

“Shut up! Remember you’re only here because of that stupid fake id.”

Loki parodied Thor talking, receiving a gentle punch in the arm. The rest of the table laughed into their beers. Loki indeed was too young to be here; he was 18 and barely that. He had just decided his major. English, to the disappointment of his adopted Father and delight of his adopted Mother. Thor, a sensible Economic major, had turned 21 a few months ago and had been bar hopping nearly every weekend with his friends and roommates. Occasionally, he would let Loki come too, though he had set down some rules.

“No ordering mixed drinks, no more than three drinks, and no flirting with anyone.”

“Jealous?” he had teased, batting his eyelashes.

“Oh definitely,” the older brother had replied, rolling his eyes. But there was something in his eyes that made Loki think he sort of was.

“So what sold you on being an English major?”

“I can actually professionally learn about the fantasy genre. And Dad can’t say shit.”

“You can’t base your entire life on saying saying ‘fuck you’ to Dad.”

“Watch me!”

“This is you coming out all over again.”

“Oh I love this story,” Heimdall, Thor’s current crush and oldest friend, said into his beer.

Before Thor was able to finish however, a waitress came by and put down two martini glasses on the table and slid them over to the him and his younger brother.

“Um, we didn’t order these,” he pushed the glasses back toward the woman.

“They’re from that guy.” She pointed to the other end of the bar to the booths in the back. Sitting alone was a thin but attractive older man, glasses balancing on the tip of his nose and his white blonde hair quaffed. He too had his own martini glass which he raised in acknowledgment. He winked playfully at the brothers.

“You two got an admirer!” Fandral laughed.

“He’s not that bad looking,” Hogun admitted.

“He looks like he has a lot of cash to burn,” Sif looked over her shoulder at the man before turning back. “You guys should go say hi!”

“What?!” Both brothers looked scandalized.

“Standard procedure if you ever get a drink at a bar. At least say thank you.”

“We’ll be here if you need us.”

Loki sent Thor a challenging look and the other sighed. As they moved with their drinks over toward the man, Thor hissed, “If this fucks up my chances with Heimdall, I’m going to kill you.”

“It isn’t my fault he bought us a drink!”

The man smiled at them as they approached the booth. “I see you got my uhm gift.”

“Yes we did. Thank you.”

“We weren’t expecting someone to buy us drinks!”

“Really?! I’m shocked! You two must be beating off people buying you drinks all the time!”

“Nope. Not really.”

“Where are my manners? Please sit down! There’s more than enough space.”

“Um,” Loki nervously looked back at the table. The small group waved them on.

Thor slid into the booth shrugged. “I mean, how’d you swing booth all by yourself?”

“I hmm know the owner. Helped his sister. He’s very accommodating.”

Loki slid in beside his brother and finally took a sip of the cocktail. “Oh that’s really good!”

“Personal favorite of mine! Glad you like it.”

“Usually don’t go for stuff like this but I think I found my new favorite drink.”

“Tell them you want the Malcolm. They’ll know what your talking about.”

“The Malcolm? Are you Malcolm?”

The man smiled and shrugged.

Conversation during the first drink was friendly and light.

“You both go to NYU AND work near full time?! AND you’re out on a Friday night?! God I wish I had your energy!”

“Being a waiter isn’t that hard. And I work mostly Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Brunch rush,” Thor waved the issue away.

“I just seat people. Just got promoted from dishwasher,” Loki nodded, curling in his lips. “They gave me the same shift as him on Sunday but my schedule is a bit of a mess. I’m taking more clases.”

“Well I can see why you both are on the Brunch shift,” Malcolm’s eyes wandered over the pair of them. They both blushed.

The second drink, the conversation became more flirty and loose.

“Oh my fucking God. You’re brothers!”

“Adopted,” Loki giggled.

“You’re not the first person to make that mistake to be honest,” Thor laughed into glass. “I once dated a girl once who was convinced that I was cheating on him with her.”

“Oh my god, no!”

“Swear to Christ.”

“Did you tell her finally.”

“After a few weeks. The sex was really good.”

“But the cards on the table. Have you ever-”

“No!”

“No!”

“I mean he’s adopted and your bi and he’s gay-”

“Never crossed the mind.”

“Not even for a moment?”

“Nope.”

Malcolm laughed. “I mean, what if, I dunno. Hmm, you met a handsome stranger in a bar. And he bought you a few drinks and you were having a great time.”

“Two drinks wouldn’t cut it,” Thor replied.

“I guess we need another round.”

“I guess we do.”

The third drink was where things began to turn.

“I think you’re cut off,” Thor reached across the table to Loki’s drink. The younger brother was swaying in his seat. Malcolm stopped his handd.

“Hey, hey, hey now. He’s okay. He’s fine. Your fine aren’t you, Lo Lo?”

“More than okay,” Loki giggled, stretching out in the booth.

“How about you? You good?”

Thor was about to say something but forgot. He giggled too. “This drink is strong!”

“I’ll order water next round, Sparkles.”

He didn’t order water next round.

“Hey!” Thor slurred from his position on the table. “Youse only hads one or two drinks.”

“Oh sweetheart, you’re just finding this out now?” Malcolm’s voice wasn’t as fun anymore. It sounded full of authority and menacing.

“G-group,” Loki moaned. “Get to group.”

“They’re outside sweet thing. They called you boys a cab.”

The younger brother tried to slide out of the booth and walk, but nearly fell forward. Someone caught him and helped him walk. Thor needed two people apparently, grumbling all the while. Malcom followed behind.

There was indeed a car waiting for them outside. A van actually. The group was nowhere in sight. The doors opened as they approached and two pairs of hands grabbed Loki and half threw half pushed him into the back. He tried to get out but his movements were uncoordinated. Thor struggled more, and was able to land a few punches to one of them before someone came up behind him with a taser. He went down, and he was shoved in beside his brother.

“Take them to the location, and no funny business. They’re mine and any person who touches them gets their hand removed. Got that. No playing coy about this. Swear to God, if you-”

‘Malcolm’s’ words were cut off as the door closed and they were cast into darkness.

[jinkisbelly]

Bring Us Home - 15/15

Part 1 [x], Part 2 [x], Part 3 [x],  Part 4 [x] Part 5 [x] Part 6[x] Part 7 [x] Part 8 [x], Part 9 [x], Part 10 [x] Part 11 [x] Part 12 [x] Part 13 [x] Part 14 [x]… can also be read on aff [x]

W/c: 3.3k

Warning: Jonghyun goes to Jinki’s therapy session and they talk about heavy stuff having to do with his PTSD so fair warning

A/N: I began this story about 2 and a half years ago, in February 2016. A lot has happened between then and now, in my personal life, in the fandom. If you’ve read this from the very beginning, I promised to update this every Monday and I failed at that immensely, but I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has stuck around on here to read this story when I did get around to update, especially now. I know for some reading Jonghyun is difficult and it means a lot when someone reads one of my stories with him in it. The main part of this story is complete, but there will be an epilogue coming shortly. I feel a little sad that this is coming to an end with how long I've had it, working on it, but I'm happy and relieved as well that I got to finish something such as this.

Thanks again <3 

Three months later

Jinki looked up from making Gwiboon laugh when he hears the front door open. Jonghyun flashed a warm smile at him as he moved into the kitchen to put the groceries away. It was about fifteen minutes later he came to lean against the archway between the kitchen and living room, sweet smile on his face as he gazed at his family. When he stopped the few toys scattered around the room he pushed off the wall and began to pick them up to put them in the toy chest in the corner. Jinki shook Gwiboon’s little fists with a small smile before quietly saying, “I asked my Mom to watch Gwiboon for me if you’d like to go to my session tomorrow with me.”

Jonghyun stumbles a little as he tries to grab a toy at the words, taken off guard. After straightening, stuffed bear tight in his arms, he hesitantly asks, “You want me to go in with you?”

“You’re apart of this… my recovery.” Jinki eyes flutter as he takes a deep breath, slowly sitting up and letting Gwiboon down onto the floor. His head was hung low for a long while as he leans on his elbows on his thighs. Then he looked up through his fringe. “There are things you have to deal with just for staying with me and I’d like you there so she can explain things I can’t find the words for.”

“Of course I’d like to go.” Jonghyun looks between the toys in his arms and his husband before taking the few steps to dump them into the chest. As he walks past Gwiboon he runs a hand over her pigtails, before sitting next to Jinki. Nervously, he softly asks. “Can I hug you?”

The question is like a hammer to his chest, but he still smiles as he lifts his head, “Yeah.”

They fall back against the cushions of the couch, Jinki’s arm around him, lips pressing kisses into his hair as Gwiboon squeals about how her ball lights up when she hits it. “I love you.”

Jinki swallows thickly, holding back his tears just barely. “I love you too.”

----

“It’s really good to have you here today Jonghyun.” Dr. Ann sweetly said across from them. “Jinki and I have talked about inviting you for some time.”

He glanced over at his husband. Jinki looked so small and vulnerable on the other end of the couch, so far away it seemed. “Oh?”

“He thought it was a good next step.” Her eyes were warm and understanding as she turned her attention to Jinki. “Did you want to start like we always do?”

“With fears?” Jinki quietly asked, finally looking up at her. When she gently nodded he casted a slight look at Jonghyun. “If Jonghyun is okay with that.”

“Would you like to participate Jonghyun?”

“By, like, saying my fears too?” He unsurely asked.

“Precisely. Every session we start talking about what he’s afraid of, to get it out of the way.”

“I’d.. okay.” He smiled easily, “Don’t go from the routine for me.”

“Great! Jinki, why don’t you start?”

He took a ragged breath before flashing a smile. He turns a little towards Jonghyun, but his gaze falls lower than his eyes as if he can’t make himself look at him. “I’m afraid that one day I’ll wake up and you won’t be there anymore. When you take off your ring to shower, there’s always a lump in my throat and worry in my stomach. Like you’ll never put it back on.”

Jinki looks at Dr. Ann and when she smiled and gestured for him to continue he did. “When you take it off so the dumpling dough doesn’t get on it, I worry you’ll forget you’re supposed to wear it. It reminds me how much you leaving plagues y mind. I can’t-” Jinki sucks in a breath, “I can’t lose you.” He quickly wipes his cheeks, focusing on getting through his thought. “Sitting in that hospital bed, not knowing if I’d ever be the man you decided to marry ever again, the uncertainty of you staying in this relationship that I almost gave everything for I- every time you left I thought I’d never see you again.”

Jonghyun isn’t quite sure how to respond, to react. He wants to reach out, to comfort him, but the events of the week prior make him stop. After a moment he gathers his thoughts, “How do I paint a picture so clear as my feelings are for you that you understand, I meant my vows? For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. You almost died for me Jinki. I was my work, my program, my life you were protecting. I know your mind isn’t what it used to be, but you’re still Jinki. The safe, dependable, caring man I married. This ring will always return to my finger because you put it there in the first place.”

Once silence falls, Dr. Ann asks, “And, Jonghyun, what is something you’re afraid of?”

He took a deep breath, preparing to be completely honest as Jinki had been. He knew how vulnerable Jinki was being. “I’m afraid that one day it’ll be too much for him to handle and I won’t be able to ease his burden anymore, that my comfort won’t... Work as well on his troubles as it once had..”

“You’re afraid of feeling useless in helping him?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Jonghyun softly admits.

“Have there been times you felt that way recently?”

Jonghyun glances at Jinki, who’s almost cowering behind the cushion he’s hugging in his lap. His cheeks a glistening with his tears, but he makes no move to wipe them away. “About a week ago I had taken Gwi out with me for my morning run. I didn’t tell him prior, hadn’t really thought about it. We were getting back into what life was beforehand.. Before everything… and because I hadn’t told him prior to it, him not having her there with him, the unknown of where she was… where I was. It triggered him. I returned to him having the worst panic attack I had witnessed before. The things I had read or what he told me they didn’t seem to work. I was watching the man I love battle himself for control and I couldn’t help him.”

Jinki swallows thickly, shifting in his seat when the attention is brought back to him. “How do you feel about that Jinki?”

“I feel it reinforces my worries, my fear of being harmful to my family.” He answers in a small voice.

“How so?”

“I hit him that morning.” He confesses. All his worry and guilt almost dripping from the tone of his voice. “He tried to comfort me physically, as he always had, and I lashed out. God, I can’t live with myself seeing that bruise on his eye. I shouldn't have ever hit him. My mental illness isn’t an excuse. I should have stopped myself.”

Dr. Ann turned to Jonghyun, pen tapping on her pad. “How did the incident affect how you see him?”

“I don’t view him as a danger to me or our child if that’s what your asking. He was in a flashback and I didn’t connect the dots quick enough that I shouldn’t have touched him.”

“Have you talked about the incident before today?’

Jinki shakes his head, “When I calmed down enough and I had Gwi in my arms, I couldn’t find the right words. How do you explain hitting your husband enough to make a bruise appear? The I’m sorry I whispered would never cut it. We never brought it back up. It hovered over us like a dark cloud.”

“Do either of you care to say anything else about it?”

With a tiny glance over at him, Jinki smiles. He turns, bringing his left leg up so he’s facing Jonghyun completely. “I guess I’ll go.”

“That's Great, Jinki.”

Jonghyun turns to face him completely, so open and ready for anything Jinki had to say to him. He smiles so sweet and reassuringly, it almost makes Jinki’s hands from shaking. “I guess, I want to start with how I’ve constantly been worried over you viewing me as scary. Sometimes I can’t control my behavior, it’s hard for me to grab onto reality, and I know people are afraid of what they don’t understand. Mental illness already has such a negative stigma, and I didn’t want you to hate me. I’m trying so hard to get this under any control and I don’t want to lose you... How I love you, our relationship together, to my illness.”

“I’m not scared of you Babe. I’m scared I can’t help you get this under control, any control.” Jonghyun fights the urge to reach out and take his hands. “This will forever be with you, but I want you to get to a place where you’re managing it. Somewhere that maybe you can not be so afraid of me leaving you because of it all.”

“I love you so much Baby and I don’t want one day I hurt you because my mind is fucked up.” Jinki’s brows furrow, sniffling harshly. “I hit you physically Jonghyun. You deserve to be angry. I can't forgive myself for that.”

Jonghyun scoots closer and gently rubs the back of Jinki’s hand with his finger. “You’re relatively new at this mentally ill thing Babe. From what I understand, it takes a long while to figure out a treatment that works. I should have told you I was leaving, should have remembered you need a routine. I’m not angry with you Babe. I’m sorry you feel so bad about it. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

“I can hear the sound my hand made.” Jinki whispers, taking a shuddering breath. “Just ringing in my ears. Can see the mark even as it continues to heal.”

“It doesn't hurt Jinki.” Jonghyun smiled sweetly, “Will you touch it for me?”

Jinki pulls his hands back, shaking his head quickly. “I can't.”

“Trust me. Please touch it.” Jonghyun leaned a little closer, eyes sliding close, leaving himself open to Jinki. “I trust you.”

He felt Jinki moving closer until his shaking hand was lightly touching his cheekbone. Jinki let out a ragged breath of relief, causing Jonghyun so smile brightly. Carefully he reached up to take Jinki’s hand into his as he opened his eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “See? I'm not scared of you or your touch Babe.”  

Jonghyun gently cupped his cheek with his other hand, rubbing his thumb over Jinki’s cheeks to wipe his tears as the man smiled, relieved.  Not wanting to ruin the moment, Dr. Ann quietly closed her notebook and smiled sweetly. It wasn't a fix for everything, and there was a lot more they had to overcome to get a treatment plan that worked, but it was an improvement. That's all that mattered.

------

Jinki pressed a sweet kiss to Gwiboon’s head before turning to Jonghyun setting up a plate for his breakfast. The man beamed when he noticed his attention. “It’s a special day, so special pancakes.”

Bacon was made into eyebrows, whipped cream mouth, and more chocolate chips were piled together for the eyes. The nose was a strawberry cut in half. With a soft laugh, Jinki leaned in to kiss Jonghyun’s cheek. “Thank you. I feel so young again.”

“You’re welcome.” Jonghyun turned off the stove and untied his apron to hang it on the hook next to Jinki’s beside the fridge. After making sure Gwiboon was okay eating her cheerios he walked over to gently lean against Jinki’s back, hands moving down his chest, as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” Jinki responded after swallowing his bite of food and drinking some of his juice. “I keep thinking I’ll forget how to be a doctor.”

“You’re amazing at your job.” Jonghyun nuzzled into him gently. “Besides, I already told Taek that he’s not allowed to let you out of his sight until he’s sure you’ve got a handle on things.”

Jinki took a deep breath and turned his head a little to look at him. His eyes were soft as he whispered. “Thank you for always taking care of me.”

A gentle kiss was given to the tip of his nose before Jonghyun was slipping away unexpectedly. He came back with Jinki’s new cell phone. A model completely different than his old one. “I took the liberty of adding the routine to your calendar and added a little note of just today’s to your home page. That way you can see it quickly if need be.”

“Baby..” Jinki softly breathed out, fingers careful as they curled around the offered phone.

At his onslaught of emotions, Jonghyun was quick to hug him. Over the last few months, they had grown and learned together.  He caressed his hair as Jinki nuzzled his face into his chest. “I wanted you to have the best first day back that you could. I’ll be waiting for your call at lunchtime Babe.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jonghyun chuckled sweetly as he pulled away. “Now finish your breakfast and head off to work. Gwi and I have a playdate with the giant stuffed bear her uncle Taemin just had to buy her.”

“Send me lots of pictures?”

“Of course.”

-----

His packed lunch was laid out in front of him. As he finished peeling his orange he pressed play on the video Jonghyun had sent him a few hours prior, one he hadn’t been able to read with how quick he had to work. As it loaded the thumbnail was a blurry Gwiboon tackling the giant teddy bear Taemin had gotten her for her 1st birthday a few months ago. He popped a slice of the orange into his mouth just as the video finished loading and began to play. Jonghyun’s sweet face was the first thing he saw, smiling a little as he spoke. “I was going to send you a few photos but she keeps moving while wrestling the bear they all came out blurry so.”

He shifted the camera so the little girl could be seen, laying flat on the bear's tummy wiggling as she tried to wrap her arms around it completely. “Hey Gwi, do you want to say Hi to Daddy?”

Her head popped up, pigtails swinging. “Daddy?”

“C’mere.” She wiggled off the bear and scrambled over, staring at the camera with wide eyes. “I’m going to send this to Daddy.”

“Oh.” Gwiboon pushed up and blew a kiss, chubby little hand flying toward the phone. “I wuv you, Daddy.”

She was quick to turn around and jump straight on the bear, body slamming it, causing Jonghyun to snort loudly. The camera was turned again so Jonghyun could be seen. “Have a good day, Baby. Talk to you at lunch.”

When the video ended it was then Jinki realized he was crying. He laughed quietly as he patted his cheeks before pushing the call button near Jonghyun’s name in his phone. It rang a few times before he picked up. “Hey, you~”

“Hi, Baby.”

“What’s wrong?” Jinki laughed at how quick Jonghyun could sense his tears.

“They’re good tears I promise. I watched your video I’m just really happy is all.”

Jonghyun sighed, relieved. “I’m so happy to hear you say that Babe.”

“It’s true.” Jinki bit his lip for a moment before continuing, “It’s starting to feel like our normal lives again and I’m really content with it.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jonghyun hummed quietly, “Gwiboon went down for her nap after we went swimming in the bathtub. I filled up our bathtub and put on our suits and she got such a kick out of it. She went right down. She was too tired.”

“How dare take a bath without me.” He said, mocked offended.

“When we put Gwi down for the night, maybe you and I could.” He seemed unsure by his tone, as if nervous of suggesting.

“I’d like that a lot Baby.”

“I love you and I’m glad today is going well for you.” Jonghyun blew a kiss into the receiver. “I’ll see you when you get home Babe. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Bye Baby, Love you more.” The phone call clicked off and he slowly removed it from against his ear. He smiled, almost dazed, as he gazed at the screen softly. Happy. It felt like forever since he felt genuinely happy.

----

The door was locked. On the tiled edge around the bath were candles. The baby monitor was up on the sink along with their phones. The only light that was on was the one above Jonghyun’s vanity, far by the door.  There were bubbles filling around them. The water was warm but not as warm as the feeling of the other pressed against them. Jonghyun was between Jinki’s legs, turned over on his tummy with his chin resting upon the back of his hands he had on Jinki’s chest. Every so often Jinki would lift his hand from the water where he was gently running it over Jonghyun’s side, to push a strand of hair back that had fallen onto his forehead. “You’re really beautiful.”

“You’re one to talk Babe,” Jonghyun lifted his head in order to press a warm kiss to his lips. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

Jinki’s expression fell for a moment as he grew serious. “I know it’s been a long time. I’m sorry I stopped doing this with you.”

“Don’t be Babe.” Jonghyun bit his bottom lip for a moment. “I know it’s hard for you still to see the mark. I would have given you as much time as you needed if you had said no to this.”

He gently cupped Jonghyun’s cheek, sweetly kissing him. “I want things to go back to as normal as they can. We’ve focused on me, my health and returning to work, the routine. We have a good handle on that, don’t you think? It’s about time we focus on us. I feel like through all of this we’ve lost sight of who we are as a couple. Remember when I couldn’t keep my hands off you?”

“Vividly.” Shifting slightly, Jonghyun was able to run his hands through Jinki’s hair. “Just like with everything else, we’ll take it slow. Tonight means a whole lot to me. I missed being this close to you.”

After softly grabbing his chin Jinki kissed him sweetly with a small smile. “Me too Baby. Me too.”

Things, of course, were different, as they would be, but slowly others were falling into place. Getting back to what their life used to be was impossible to do completely. Jonghyun was a stay at home dad now, they made a routine every Sunday night before bed, and he had therapy once a month, which Jonghyun went to every other one. Medications had to be refilled every three months and he called from work a lot more than he used to. But, he still had Jonghyun and they had a beautiful Baby girl. Life was moving forward even with all the bumps, and that made him happy.

----

[harinezumiko]

Angery Screeching About Terrible Acupuncture Under The Cut

Putting the log here but obvious trigger warning: needles and general angry bitching that some people can’t tell is melodramatic and deliberate kvetching because being histrionic works better in person, apparently.

LOG BELOW.

Anti:

I am zero adverse to needles, yeah!

Harinezumiko:

oh my shit okay

so

fucking

Anti:

By all means, share your needles

...There's a sentence you don't get to say often

Harinezumiko:

hahaha

so I had acupuncture today

which I have previously done with a proper goddamn Chinese acupuncturist who my only complaint about was that we could not communicate

Anti:

*nod nod

Harinezumiko:

today, at PT, I had acupuncture from a white man who didn't tell me his name, didn't know shit about acupuncture, was a condescending dick, my body repelled his first attempt to stick me before I even started getting properly discomfited and yeeted the needle away, and he then pinned me in three places on my arms that functionally immobilized me... in a horribly uncomfortable position in a chair that wasn't my height, with one arm on an armrest normally and the other stuck in White Pearl's pose with my elbow on the arm of the chair and the back of my knuckles barely brushing an adjacent table bed, at which point he fucked off without setting a timer or asking if ANY of the pins were a) uncomfortable (they were), b) doing anything for my shoulder (they were not), or c) LITERALLY BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE ME AT ALL AS I EVENTUALLY WENT FROM PANIC ATTACK TO DISSOCIATION, AT WHICH POINT I STARTED CHATTING UP THE PATIENT HE WASN'T LISTENING TO DISTRACT MYSELF, AND MERRILY TALKED OVER HIM BECAUSE HE'S A DICK, AND THEN HE INSULTED ME AS A WRITER AND THE ONLY THING PREVENTING ME FROM KICKING HIS ASS WAS THAT MY ARMS WERE LITERALLY STUCK BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING PINS IN THEM SO I COULDN'T REMOVE THEM TO STAB HIM IN THE EYE

he then also, because he hadn't set a timer, had me sitting like that LONGER THAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THERE, and it wasn't even a situation limited to me because he forgot to set a timer for another woman too

Anti:

He insulted you as a writer??

Oh my fucking god, he needs to be fired

Like. That is a LOT of fuckups

Harinezumiko:

I was talking up the other patient, who was lamenting that the physical therapists don't know what to do with him, because he is diabetic, had a fall and presumably injured his left knee, but isn't feeling any pain from the waist down or also on his entire right side

he is at the early onset stage of Alzheimers, overweight, uses a walker, and also has arthritis

I asked him if he was also experiencing an insensitivity to temperature, because honestly it sounds like he had a fucking stroke, but if he can't feel temperature or pain then both physical therapy and acupuncture are useless to him and he really needs to see if the issue is rooted in his brain, because he will not know if the electrodes are too high on the tens unit, he won't know if the heat pad is burning him, he won't know if the ice massage wand is hurting him

he was delighted that I was talking to him and taking his shit seriously unlike the PT girls who just seem to do what they know for like one issue and get totally lost when there's a complication, and I admitted that I'm a writer, and I've studied a little about congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, and his symptoms are similar and it's interesting talking to someone who's experiencing that in real life

and the acupuncturist scoffed and said "a writer who can't write" and I genuinely do not know if he was trying to make an asshole joke about the fact that one of the pins in me was for carpal tunnel, or if he was just being a dipshit, but it took ALL THE REMAINING SPOONS I HAD not to say "at least read my work before saying stupid shit like that, I at least waited for you to fuck up at acupuncture before deciding you're garbage at it"

Anti:

Oh man, I kinda wish you had. What an unprofessional douche!

Harinezumiko:

The main reason I didn't was that I still needed him to unpin me

BUT ALSO THOUGH LIKE

Anti:

"If it were not for the pins in my arm, I would destroy you"

Harinezumiko:

I'M FUCKING SORRY, WHITE MAN FLIPPING DESPERATELY THROUGH A BOOK ON WHERE TO PUT ACUPUNCTURE NEEDLES WHO MISSES ON A PERSON WHO LITERALLY DOESN'T HAVE ENOUGH EXTRA BODY MASS FOR YOU TO GET CONFUSED ABOUT WHERE MUSCLES OR VEINS ARE, DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU'RE SOMEONE WHO SHOULD TALK SHIT ABOUT SOMEONE'S PROFICIENCY IN SOMETHING?

Anti:

R I G H T

Harinezumiko:

and of course he told the other guy he needs to change his diet because he's obese like a diagnosed diabetic whose body is literally giving out on him related to his diabetes hasn't heard about necessary dietary changes to prolong his life and improve his health, he's only actively seeking treatment and has apparently been going to physical therapy for two fucking months you insufferable shit

Anti:

Man, what a cretin

Harinezumiko:

like and I can't say for sure that my having a panic attack, or the fact that he left me pinned too long in a weird position didn't contribute to his treatment being completely fucking useless, but I am PRETTY SURE that his absolute ineptitude at doing the simplest fucking task, you know, putting a pin in a relaxed person's arm who is not wearing sleeves and is not flinching or making any protests at all and having it fly across the goddamn room because he sucks that much as an acupuncturist

Anti:

Yuuuup!

Harinezumiko:

fuck's sake, I've had acupuncture done before, full back, by someone I couldn't communicate with verbally because they DIDN'T SPEAK ENGLISH, and it was a comparatively huge fucking success

Anti:

Like, how do you fuck up that badly

Harinezumiko:

as soon as he unpinned me I beelined to the front desk and was like, I'm sorry, I'm going to have to change my actual PT session to another day, can we reschedule? and they asked if it was because I was relaxed and didn't want to ruin it

and I was like no, I've been having a panic attack for half an hour and I'm dissociating and I don't honestly know that I could pay attention to my reps, or, really, if I should be driving, but my anxiety meds are at home, so I'll just come back Monday

and the receptionist looked at me like she had NEVER CONSIDERED THAT SOMEONE MIGHT REACT POORLY TO THE GARBAGE ACUPUNCTURIST WHO SUCKS AT ACUPUNCTURE???

YOU KNOW. A THING THAT INVOLVES NEEDLES. WHICH IS AN INCREDIBLY NOT UNCOMMON THING FOR PEOPLE TO BE UNCOMFORTABLE OVER?

DID I FUCKING ASCEND SO MUCH THAT I LOOKED SOMEHOW RELAXED TO THIS WOMAN, I WAS BREATHING SHALLOWLY AND MORE RAPIDLY THAN WHEN I DO THE EIGHT MINUTES ON THE BIKE WHICH IS CARDIO WHICH I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DOING

Anti:

My god, the more I hear about your pt facility the more I wonder how a rinkydink operation like them is even in business

Harinezumiko:

the absolute worst part is it has good reviews

like there are people who like it

[i-have-been-changed-for-good]

A Lot of Playfulness

Monday -  Scott comes in wearing his gray shirt. I turn around and when I smile at him I can tell he can't help but smile back. During my lunch, Glenn from Canadian Dewatering calls him. He calls Scott every day. We joke about how his co-workers must be tired of him and that that's why he calls to talk to Scott all the time. Scott asks me if I went out for lunch today and I tell him no, that I need to chill on buying lunches. He says he needs to do the same, that it adds up buying them every day. I ask him what's wrong with his voice and he says he lost it over the weekend but it's come back a bit. He wasn't sick or anything. It's weird cuz my throat felt oddly sore today, but I'm not sick. His voice isn't 100% back to normal and still sounds a bit off. I tell him I'm leaving at 3 today for a doctor appointment. He always tells me when he leaves early, so I want to do the same. I ask him how his weekend was and he says he took his daughter to Ocean City. I can't help but wonder if he purposely omitted his wife from this or if he really went down with just his daughter. He said it was nice but that traffic was bad going back home. He asks me how my weekend was and my Sunday off. I tell him brunch starts at 9:30 Sundays, so I set my alarm for 9:29 and watched it changed to 9:30 and enjoyed the fact that I was not at brunch but home in bed. He says that's funny. I tell him it was a bittersweet day though. I got so much done, but I will once again have to go back to Sunday brunches since I haven't left yet. I tell him I got a gelati at Rita’s and he asks me what flavor. I tell him chocolate water ice with vanilla ice cream. "What? Isn't that just like chocolate ice cream? The chocolate would overpower the vanilla." He tells me I should have gotten cherry water ice with chocolate ice cream, but I don't like either of those. His next choice would have been lemon. "Oh no, lemon is even below cherry," I say back. He slowly looks at me and smiles, then shakes his head a bit as he turns back to his computer. I also tell him how I went over my friend's place Saturday night and had a few drinks and still managed to wake up 10:30 Sunday (I went back to sleep after my alarm). Then I tell him i ordered Halloween decorations. He answers how I expect. "What? It's July." "Yeah, but I consider August pre-pre-Halloween, September is pre-Halloween, and then October is Halloween, so to me it's getting close." I show him the yoga skeletons I ordered since that was my fave purchase. I say how I couldn't pass that up, cuz when would I see something like that again. He agrees. We get on the subject of yoga and I tell him he should do it. He asks if many men do it and I tell him not too many usually. Then I say how I'm not really into male instructors much, but idk why. "No offense," I add. He laughs and says he doesn't care. "Yeah, so if you were an instructor, I probably wouldn't go to your class." "Nah, I think you would definitely go to my class." "You're right. I'd make an exception for you." Scott laughs and says thanks. I continue, "You know, on the off chance you decide to dedicate like 6 months of your life to it." I'm cracking up as he responds, "Yeah and with something I've never even tried before." Steve comes in which means my lunch is over. After Scott's lunch, when he makes his tea, this guy Chris goes into the warehouse saying "I fucking hate people" just as Scott is walking out of his office. Scott asks me what I did to piss Chris off. I say "Hey. Why do you think it's me?" He smiles and says, "Cuz you're the only one standing here." I feel really tired and so don't have the energy to act playful in this moment. When 3:00 hits, I go and throw the day's wasted papers in the paper bin by Scott's office. I stop in his doorway. He's texting or whatever on his cell phone. "Bye, Scott. See you tomorrow." "Aight, you leaving, Dane? See you tomorrow." Since Steve is right there I say bye to him too and he says bye. I grab my things, say bye to Pete and Joyce, and then leave for the day.

Tuesday -  I had gone into the bathroom in the morning with my brush. It was 8:12. I had time before Scott comes in. I am looking in the mirror, feeling satisfied with my bun, and I hear the back door sound moments before I open the bathroom door. When I pull it open, Scott is walking by. I smile. This was unexpected. He says, "Hey. Watchu doing?" "Hey. Nothing. You're here early." He says something I don't quite catch. I walk behind him, looking at the butt. I go back to my desk and print some things. Scott walks by to use the bathroom. I go to make my coffee, but then the paper runs out at the printer. I usually bend at my knees, but since I hear the bathroom door open, I purposely bend over for when Scott walks by. He doesn't say anything as he passes. I had told him the previous day I would give him my Zyrtec since his allergies are bothering him. My mom had bought them for me but I don't have allergies, she just thinks I do no matter how many times I tell her I don't. I keep knocking the bottle over but don't want to move it to a different spot on my desk since it could get lost in the mess and I'd forget about it. I decide to go and give it to him now instead of at my lunch. I go in his office. Steve isn't in there. I hand it to him and apologize for there not being many left. He smiles. "I thought you didn't take them." "I don't. It wasn't full when she gave them to me." I also would give them to a friend I had dated for a few months last year since he's allergic to cats, but I leave this out since I'm afraid it may make Scott feel less important about me giving them to him. He tells me he's leaving early today to pick up his contacts since his eye doctor closes early. "It only took like a month and a half for them to come in," I reply. We talk for a few minutes about that and then Steve comes back in. Our conversation dies and I leave. When I go in to talk to Scott during my lunch, he's on his phone texting. We start talking, but he's also focusing on his phone. When he's done he explains how he's texting his mom and sister in 2 different conversations. His mom is coming up from Texas to visit and she's bringing her husband, Scott's step-father, who both he and his sister don't like. His sister has been texting him about it. He said last time she got in a screaming match with their stepdad. "Ah, so she's not shy about hiding her feelings." "No, not at all." I comment how his voice sounds a lot better today. It's pretty much back to normal. God, I love his voice. He honestly has the best voice I've ever heard. I'm not just saying that cuz I like him either. I ask if he has scissors and he jokingly asks me what I plan to do with them. He won't give them to me until I answer. "I’m gonna cut your hair" is the best I can come up with. I need to cut a string off the bottom of my jeans. I keep thinking it's a bug. Scott also has a chiropractor/physical therapy appointment today aside from picking up his contacts. He has a few more sessions after this one. His neck already feels great. I look at my tattoo on my wrist and tell him how the girl who rung me out at the liquor store Saturday was the first to know my tattoo was harry potter. "Oh really?" He smiles. "Yeah, and then she gave me like 4 compliments. It was super nice." I tell him I'm staying late and he says "You're crazy" followed by "I'm just joking." I want to make up the time I missed yesterday since I won't get paid for it unless I make it up. We talk about that a bit. I ask him what music he listens to, if it's a reggae or ska station. I heard Sublime a few times and the rest of the music sounds the same. He's not sure exactly what the type of music would be called, and despite being a huge Sublime fan in my teenage years, I honestly don't know what to call it either. I ask if he listens to music all day and if Steve ever gets annoyed and he says no, one or the other always has on music or a podcast. He says Steve usually listens to heavy stuff, which he can't get into, and I agree with him. Steve comes in and I sigh about how my lunch is over. Scott says, "Well it's been fun. We'll do it again tomorrow." I smile and say, "Yup, and the rest of the week."

When Scott makes tea after his lunch, he tells me how Glenn called him from Canadian Dewatering. This rings a bell in my mind. "Oh, you know what I was thinking the other day? If you change the C in Canada to a D, it would be like I have a country named after me." A smile stretches across Scott's face and he shakes his head. I pronounce "Danada" out loud and we laugh. "You already have Scotland. Just add an extra T." "That's true," he says. After laughing a bit more, he says, "Danada. You're funny." I smile big at him. I have no clue what time Scott is leaving today, though I speculate it's a bit later in the day. When he does come to say bye, I'm jamming out with my headphones in while working. He makes me jump when he says bye to me. I turn around, startled, then smile and say, "Bye, Scott."

Wednesday -  Scott and I say good morning. I beam at him and he can't help but smile at me. Some time still in the early morning, I go into the warehouse to take an order out. When I come back in, I stop in his office doorway. "Did you see the hitchhiker this morning on the highway?" Scott smiles and says he didn't. There was a guy walking with his arm out and thumb up, a red bag thrown over his shoulder. I'm not sure if he was still there or if Scott just missed him. During my lunch, I bring Scott a cookie from upstairs. I tell him he startled me yesterday when he said bye and he apologizes. I quickly tell him it's okay, that I was just in my own little world. I don't want him to not tell me bye on days he leaves early. Hes texting his sister again and says she texted him at 5am this morning, waking him up. I ask him of he sleeps with his phone next to him and he says he does. I tell him i used to but I put it across the room now. It's easier for me to wake up too. I show him the beautiful sunflowers I got at ShopRite the night before and he asks who got them for me. I tell him i bought them for myself. "You like them, huh?" "Yeah, they're my favorite. It's the first time I've ever had any, actually." I tell him how I stayed late and both Pete and Joyce left before me, which has never happened before. Scott laughs. I tell him I'm seeing David Blaine tonight and that I'm excited. Scott tells me Steve is leaving early today. I like how he lets me know, even though I always see this stuff on their calendar lol. I know there is way more to our conversation today, but I can't remember a lot of it. At the end of my lunch, I ask if he can get me a Starbucks frappe from ShopRite, mocha or vanilla. He says sure. I try to give him my credit card, but he says he's not gonna take that to pay for something that's like $2 and to just pay him back later. I don’t care about giving him my credit card for several reasons: I have no money; I work with Scott, so like I know he’s not going to skip town with my card or do anything since I work with him; and I trust him, which is the biggest reason. I go to my bag and find $2 And some change and put it on his desk. "That should be enough," I smile. He laughs and says, "it's alright." Before he leaves, he stops at my cubicle. "mocha or vanilla, right?" "Yeah, mocha first, vanilla second." "Aight." "Thanks, Scott!" When he comes back in from his lunch, Joyce is in my cubicle talking to me, so Scott goes right into his office. He comes back out a few minutes later to give me my drink. I beam at him and thank him. Scott makes his tea right after. "How long do you take for lunch?" "45 minutes." "Mmm it's definitely longer sometimes. You definitely took a longer lunch today." He just looks at me. "And you even have a watch." He looks at his watch and slowly smiles. "What are you, my boss now?" "Yeah, I could be. How would you feel if I was your boss?" I smile and he smiles too. He says, "I don't know." "Don't worry, I'd go easy on you. Steve, on the other hand...I would be a little harder on him." Scott laughs. Steve is talking, and it takes me a few moments to realize he's on the phone. "I thought he heard me and that he was saying something about what I said," I laugh. Scott cracks up and says, "that would be really funny." Hes still laughing when he walks away. In the later afternoon, I go into the warehouse to bring out an order, then come back in. I turn a bit to Scott, who I don't expect to look at me, but he does, with a little smile on his face. I had started to turn away, then turn back at the last second to look at him again. Not even a minute later, Steve walks out and leaves for the day. I end up walking by Scott's office again not too long after so I go in and talk to him. I tell him how I woke up this morning thinking Its gonna be a good day, and it has not been too much of a good day. He asks me why and I tell him there's just so many problems with orders and whatnot. I tell him i just had some avocado though so that made me about 40% happier. He looks at me and then eagerly asks me if the coffee made me happier. I look at him, smile, and say, "Yeah, it did." He's so cute. I have to wonder now, if a week and a half ago, on the Monday after I confronted him, his ignoring me in the morning and the face he made when I walked by his office wasn't out of fear of me or being uncomfortable, but rather out of attachment to me and a fear of things between us ending. I still see him lounging in his chair, legs apart, hands on his arms rests, smiling big at me after my lunch was over that day. He was so freaking happy I had come in to talk to him. We get on the topic of salads. ShopRite didn’t have chicken today, but another worker was there when Scott was and they chipped in for a rotisserie chicken. He won't eat his salad without chicken in it. I ask him what else he puts in his salads. "Usually spring mix, carrots...." He takes a moment to think. "That's not a salad," I playfully scoff. "I’m not done!" He tells me Glenn called him again. "Are you 2 best friends now?" "Yeah, he's my best friend up in Canada." "When you go there you can stay at his flat, overlooking the city." "Nah, he's not in a good part. Hes in Edmonton. I want to go to Montreal." I laugh, " You're all about Montreal, aren't you?" I tell him for probably the 10th time that I'd love to see Canada in the fall, since I heard they have the best autumns there. I start mentioning Halloween. Scott smiles and says, "You're always about Halloween." I tell him how I love to try new haunted attractions and how most years I go somewhere. I tell him about the time I went with 2 friends and I did get scared that time cuz they had a mirror on one side of the floor and it reflected the ceiling, and they had made it all look like you would fall if you stepped on the mirror side. An actress grabbed me and pulled me and I screamed cuz I thought I was gonna fall. He didn't know they were allowed to grab you and I tell him how places usually have something, like wearing a glowstick thing around your neck to show it's okay to grab you. I got grabbed again by a doctor who put me on his gurney and his nurse held me down and my friends just kept walking and left me, then when I said, "what the hell you guys just left me" they just shrugged and said there was nothing they could do. And my one friend is like 6'5"-6'7", so no one was messing with him. We laugh at my stories. He starts telling me how a guy he used to work with in the other building recently came over to our building to work in the warehouse office. Scott was down there and he had some gum and balled up the wrapper, then flung it at the guy, hitting him in the face. Scott starts cracking up and I laugh too. I tell him i will come back and talk to him in a bit. I end up not talking to Scott again till the very end of the day. I show him a photo of a soap Oracle thing I saw and how now I think about it every time I use the soap in the bathroom. I sit in the chair next to his desk and start doing neck rolls. My hair is in a pony tail and it's pretty long, so my hair keeps flopping in my face. Scott looks at me and smiles. "What are you doing?" "Neck rolls," I respond. Then I add, "Nah, i like to flip my hair in my face for fun." He takes a piece of gum and then asks me if I want a piece. I accept, and as I take it from him, the tips of our fingers brush. He balls up his wrapper and acts like he's about to shoot it at my face, then thinks better of it. "Nah, I was gonna do that, but it might end bad." "Yeah, I'm too close. It would probably hit me in the eye or something." Scott says how he got a phone call from Steve earlier and he's having stomach issues. "Oooh, he got it from you," I say. I'm just kidding, obviously, but Scott starts to say, "what I had wasn't contagious" just as I shoot my wrapper into the trash can by the door. "Ohhh hohhh! Did you see that?!?" Scott laughs and says he did. He shoots and misses, through he hits the back rim of the trash can. He says I'm closer so I had a better chance, and I tell him that he's standing and higher up, so he had the better leverage. We start talking about how everyone this year has had stomach issues. I tell him how back in January when I was in the hospital, the doctor told me stomach issues were gonna be bad this year. I add on, "he should give up his doctor gig and become a psychic instead." Scott laughs and agrees with me. I decide to grab his wrapper and try to shoot from where he’s standing. I go and stand behind him, shoot, and miss. Scott says how he was closer. I try a second time, and a third, but I don't make any of the shots. It's time to go, so I go back to my desk to shut down, grab my things, and say bye to Pete and Joyce. I go back to Scott's office so we can walk out together. He throws his plastic cup in the trash. "You know, we pass a recycling bin on the way out." He smiles at me and says his hands are full, which they aren't, considering he just had the cup in his hand. We talk as we go down the hall to the back door. I turn to smile at him and can see through his glasses that his eyes are looking at my smile. We say bye and leave for the day.

Thursday -  Scott had mentioned he would be coming in late today since he had a follow-up appointment with his stomach doctor, so I end up not seeing him at all until my lunch. I bring him a cookie again, and as he takes it from me, our hands touch. I wish I could just grab his hand and hold it in mine. I ask him how his doctor appointment went and he said everything went well. They finally took him off all of the medication and instead just gave him one last one to take for a bit. I tell him all about David Blaine's show and show him the picture I got with him. He looks at it and smiles. I tell him how I did get bad news earlier, how Angelo told me I've been put on hold again due to “operations issues”, which Scott and I both discuss. Angelo did seem mad about it this time because they keep doing this to me. He said he understands if I want to leave but that they like having me here and I'm an asset. Scott asks me what I'm gonna do and if I’ve been looking into other jobs. "Trying to get rid of me?" I joke. "No, I'm just trying to help." I wasn't expecting that. I wonder if Scott cares about me. He has hand sanitizer sitting on his desk with the lid unscrewed. I ask him why he doesn't just get a new one. He said he did, it's just on the other side of his desk and that he's gonna recycle that one. I tell him good job and he smiles. He has on different music than normal today, which I comment on. He said he likes to switch it up every now and then. An ad comes on and he says he hates this ad. I know his pain. I listen to YouTube a lot and I always get the stupid Italian ad, it's for wine or something, and a lady is singing. It's annoying, and half the time you can't skip it. Scott burps and says "excuse me." I say it's okay, how I hear him burp all the time and he says it's not just him, its Steve too. I laugh and say, "oh, I always just assumed it was you." Steve comes in and then goes to the water jug down the hall, but he has to change it. He goes into the warehouse and grabs another one. He grabbed it by the handle with both hands and is carrying it in front of himself as he walks. I watch him and say quietly, "Steve looks like he's struggling over there." Scott looks and then laughs and agrees with me. Steve then switches the jug to one hand and carries it by his side, which looks much better. I tell Scott I'll talk to him later and as I walk toward the door I turn my head around, and I just see Scott looking away from my butt at the last second. 

When Scott goes on lunch, he asks me if I want anything and I tell him no thanks. When he comes back from lunch and makes his tea, he says ShopRite was out of chicken so he came back and had some sandwiches from upstairs. I tell him how the other week they had veggie sandwiches for a training group and how there must have been some vegetarians because they never have that. I tell him idk if I would have eaten them since they were probably touching the meat. He finds this weird, but I assure him amongst vegetarians and vegans, it's a common thing. It's cross-contamination and we don't want animal products in our bodies. I tell him if someone has a nut or shellfish allergy and something touches their food, they'd have an allergic reaction. He says that's different, but I don't see it that way. He asks me why it bothers me and I tell him i don’t want to eat something that died. "But you still eat eggs?" “Yeah, but they're not fertilized.” "Cuz nothing died?" "Yes." "And you still have dairy?" "Yes." "Cuz nothing died?" "Yes." I could go into detail how I actually replace most of my dairy products with vegan stuff now and how I do struggle with whether I should eat eggs and dairy at all, though I do only buy free range eggs after watching a documentary on how chickens are treated in cages. We somehow get on the topic of whipped cream and I joke how Scott is probably one of those people who squirt it into their mouths. He doesn't deny it. He says how his tea is hot and he puts it down. "Yeah, it goes right from hot to cold, and there's like a 5 minute period where it's perfect to drink. That's why I always heat it in the microwave." I get some water for my tea bag, and see there's a tiny fly in the cup. I walk down the hall to the sink to dump it and throw my cup away, then head back. Scott and Steve are talking, and Scott is standing up, leaning on his elbow, and facing the door. Hes got a small smile on his lips as he watches me. I catch his eye and smile back at him. A little later I have to take an order out into the warehouse. This guy Chris is heading that way too, and he lets me go ahead of him. I come back and turn to smile at Scott, who I could see was turned toward the door, waiting for me to come back. I go in to talk to Scott at the end of the day and the same Chris comes in not long after cuz Scott had told him as he passed to check his email, but he came in instead. Chris assumes that what's on Scott's screen is what he was talking about, so he takes the mouse from Scott. Chris asks him what it is and Scott tells him that not it. Chris is like "what the hell" and Scott laughs and says, "well you just took the mouse from me!". Chris leaves and Scott notices I'm chewing gum. He asks what kind it is and I say, "I don't know, I just grab whatever and hope I like it." I go and get it and show Scott and he asks if he can have a piece, so I give him one. He balls up his wrapper, shoots, and scores. "Heeyyy! You made it today!" Scott says how he normally misses a lot though. I tell him how there was a little fly thing in my water earlier and he says, "that's weird" but I thought he had said, "that's rude." "Ohh haha I thought you meant it was rude of the fly to be in my water." "Well, it was rude." He takes forever to shut down his stuff, so it's around 4:50, but I'm staying late. We walk out of his office and he says, "have fun staying late" and I laugh and say I'll see him tomorrow.

Friday -  In the morning, I feel really happy to see Scott. Not too long after, I go to refill my water, but our jug is empty. I put a new one on (our jug area has room to keep spare full ones next to it) and then go into the warehouse to take the empty one out. I go over to where the jugs are kept and there's a lot of empty ones piling up. I look at them to find a spot and then look at Scott through his window. Hes standing, leaning on his left elbow, and he's staring at me with a smile on his lips. I can feel my face light up and I smile big at him with my mouth still closed. I look back at the jugs and place mine down, then look at Scott again, who hasn't moved or anything. I'm still beaming at him. He looks so handsome and I love the way he's looking at me. I go back to my desk and my heart is fluttering. I didn't bring a lunch today since I was hoping for pizza, but the trainees finished yesterday. There are pretzels upstairs, so I grab one and heat it in the microwave. When I walk toward Scott's office on the way back to my desk, he looks at me and tilts his head up in a nod. When i go in to talk to him after i finish eating, Glenn calls. I ask Scott if Glenn calls Steve too and Scott says he does, that he talks to both of them daily. I tell him there's no food upstairs today and how I had a pretzel and he asks me if I want him to get me anything when he goes out. I brought a ton of healthy snacks, so I tell him I'm good. I ask him if he has any plans this weekend, and for the 3rd weekend in a row he tells me he doesn't. I work all weekend since I took a Saturday shift this week. We get on the topic of sleeping and waking up early. Scott was always the type of person to stay up late and sleep in, but now he stays up late and wakes up early. He said at his old job the hours were 11-7, so he didn't have to wake up too early. I tell him how I ended up seeing Angelo before I left yesterday and he told me he talked to his boss and that they were both still going to try and get me in permanent and to not have me put on hold again. Scott asks if Dan is Angelo's boss. Dan goes back and forth between our office and North Carolina. I tell Scott the story of when I first met him. I had been on lunch but finished eating and I was on the computer. Angelo and Dan came over to my cubicle, and when I turned around, hummus got on my hand, it must have been on my bag or something. So Dan reached out his hand and I said, "Hold on, I have hummus on my hand." And they stood there awkwardly as I got up to grab a paper towel, wipe my hand, then went back to my desk to use hand sanitizer, then I held out my hand for him to shake it. Scott and I are cracking up. It's a pretty funny story, though I was a bit embarrassed. Before Scott goes out, he once again stops by my cubicle to ask if I want anything. I consider asking for a frappe again, but instead tell him no thanks. When he's done lunch and makes his tea, I have nothing to print, but my water bottle is empty, so I get up to fill that. I drink it as I walk back and end up spilling water on my chin. I wipe my mouth and Scott looks at me with a smile. I stop and ask if they had his chicken today, but they didn't, so he went to WaWa and got a chicken sandwich. We talk for another minute or two and then he turns to go and get his creamer. He had forgotten to grab a stirrer, so he takes a big step to the right to grab one. I watch him move and ughhh his butt, it kills me. It's so nice. At one point, I come up the hall from the bathroom, and just as I reach the corner of my cubicle, the warehouse door opens. I turn and look and see it's Scott. I hear him not long after talking to the receptionist. He usually goes back to his office down his hallway, but I hear him talking down the larger hallway, so he must have gone to talk to someone. He walks by my desk and when I turn, I can see he had just turned away from looking in my cubicle. I go in at the end of the day to talk to him and he tells me Steve has off Monday, which of course I knew. I also know Scott has off next Friday. I'm curious as to  why, and hope it's nothing heartbreaking for me, though if it is, he probably won't give me a reason as to why he has off, or might omit his wife if she's part of the equation, or I may just overhear him telling someone about it. In any case, I'm bracing myself for the worst. I am looking forward to Steve having off though. Scott may be busy with it being just him, but it also means I can just go in and talk to him whenever I feel like it, and that if I go into the warehouse, I can always turn to smile at him. I'm entering Amazon giveaways on my phone and one thing is a rice cooker that’s worth $180. I tell Scott i don’t get the point of a rice cooker, since rice takes like 5 minutes to boil on the stove and that it seems like they're too expensive for something you don't even really need. He agrees. He seems like he's not in a talkative mood too much. It's time to go, so I go and shut down, grab my things, then say bye to Pete and Joyce. I go back to Scott's office since he's still not done. He just finished wiping his sunglasses with some sort of special wipe, and asks me if I want to use it before he throws it out. My glasses are pretty dirty, so I take it. We walk out together. When we're driving, Scott doesn't get on the highway but instead stays straight. I feel a pang in my heart as I watch him drive away. I hope all the time that this doesn't lead to heartbreak, though I have trouble seeing how the situation could ever work in my favor. Still, I hold out hope that some miracle happen. I just find it hard to believe that this is a man who goes home to a happy home life, who goes home and works on his marriage, who married the right person. Of course, I could be totally wrong and Scott could be perfectly happy with his home, his wife, his marriage, and I am just the wrench thrown into the equation, some sort of temptation he has to work through. But I don’t know. “It’s complicated” and “It would be easy if I wasn’t married” have popped into my mind a few times these past 2 weeks, but it’s so exhausting trying to figure out what he meant, because he gave me nothing to go off of. So I pretty much just let it be as soon as my mind goes, “Hey, what do you think these things mean?? We haven’t figured it out yet.” I could just ask Scott to clarify, though I’m doubtful it will get me anywhere. I’ve just accepted at this point that he’ll tell me in his own time and that it has nothing to really do with me, that he just has to be completely sure and ready before he tells me anything. I don’t know how I know this, I just do. Anyway, looking forward to what Monday has to bring and the rest of the week, and also getting my hair done Tuesday night. I’m getting a nice change, and besides being really excited to get something new and something I really want, I’m curious to see what Scott will say. I’m not expecting some big reaction or anything or even a compliment. I guess I just kind of want to see if he notices, which I’m sure he will. 

[aquarianlights]

The story of how I gave my psych an anxiety attack yesterday....Whoops.

Giving my psychologist an anxiety attack is something I never thought I would be able to cross off on my bucket list because it wasn't on my bucket list but now it is and now it is crossed off.... 😂😂😂😂😂 

"...[huge breath coz I had just said like...a 30 page essay in one breath as fast as humanly possible, jumping back and forth from topic to topic, but staying on track with the main point and tying it all together at the end] AND, in conclusion, that's basically how I'm gonna fix everything." [smiles] My psych is literally not breathing at this point, looking at me over his glasses, tousled mousy brown hair falling into his eyes as his jaw hangs slightly ajar and he is just speechless for a second.

"....Drew. Drew? Dreeeeeew. HEELLOOOO?" Literally get up off my chair and start waving my hands in front of his face. "LEONARD!!!!" Snapping fingers at him.

He blinks and looks up at me and literally just grabs my shoulders and gets up and sits me down on the other, larger couch and he sits---more like collapses---down beside me... and is like "We need to do some deep breathing exercises."

"You know I don't d-"

"Not for you, Kills. For me. For me. Just LISTENING to all of that is giving me anxiety. I feel like I need to breathe into a paper bag. Oh my god. Just...just hold on. Wow." I start snickering. He holds up a finger sharply. "You be quiet, you tiny little blonde ball of chaos." I purse my lips as he breathes a little bit and then opens his eyes and goes back to his chair and swivels around to look at me and goes "Okay. So. I KNOW that you know that I and every other doctor and psych and just about every human being on this PLANET knows that you have the most drive and...damn, EVERYTHING I have ever seen from a human being. I'm sure you've been told this. About how driven and passionate you are?" "I literally just had a back to back rheumatology and chronic pain appointment and they both said they wish they could book me to quote on quote preach to their chronic pain sufferers because 99% of them won't fight against their illnesses and just give up and won't do physical therapy at all or decide it's not worth it for this reason or that and they say that my passion and drive and my energy on stage would probably motivate them to get off their asses and do something to get REAL RESULTS like I have gotten. LIKE LIKE LIKE" I roll up my sleeve as much as I can, jumping up off the couch. "I lost 20lbs and gained 10lbs of muscle in about a month or so with just pure physical therapy and now I can do things I've never been able to do in my WHOLE LIFE!" My psych is back to just staring at me, only just barely breathing. I had my hands raised in a hallelujah position and was practically about to do some parkour tricks on the couches but the bottom ligaments in my spine are so slightly out alignment that if I make one wrong move, it could permanently paralyze me in some way or at least trigger some bad scoliosis. So I restrain myself and clench my fists and bring them down in front of me, bouncing on my heels. "Drew? DREEEEEEEEEEEW? YOU'RE DOING IT AGAINNNNN!" He does this all the time with me coz, as with p much every since psych I ever see (psychiatrist, psychologist, therapist, counselor, and all inbetween alike), I am always their "most interesting patient. And on top of that, I either turn out to be their "least favourite" patient (the patient from hell) or their most favourite patient (the "can I put you in a trial please or at least have one of my colleagues come sit in on a session?" patient). I'm the latter with him and he loves me to death because I make him laugh constantly throughout the sessions we have.... and since coping skills don't work for me, I make up my own and they are usually fucking hilarious and he finds them hilarious, too. We have a lot of fun and he always wishes we could have more time because I'm like... the thing he looks forward to in his days (his words, not mine) and it makes me laugh because sessions with him are things I look forward to. BUT WHEN I GO OUT OF CONTROL OR SAY SOMETHING TOTALLY RIDICULOUS, HE DOES THIS THING WHERE HE PUTS ON A REALLY MOCK-DRAMATIC LOOK AND LOOKS AT ME OVER HIS GLASSES WITH BROWS RAISED, BUT FURROWED...AND LEANING BACK IN HIS CHAIR AND RAISING HIS ARMS IN THE "WHYYYY" OR "NOOO" POSITION AND JUST LOOKING AT ME TOTALLY AGHAST SO I THOUGHT THAT'S WHAT WAS GOING ON COZ I CAN'T READ PEOPLE AT ALL. But no. He was legitimately having an inward, controlled anxiety attack. He goes "Killian. I went through medical school. Do you understand that? You KNOW what medical school entails. I know you know it because YOU'RE LIVING IT..." Taking a deep breath and laughs shakily. "Fuck, Kills. You uh... Your thoughts are way too fast for your mouth so you're definitely going into the right field, I'm sure you've heard that. I really hope you go into trauma. You'd love that, I'm sure, with the bloodlust you have and the quick pace and high pressure and high stress you need. I KNOW nothing can be slow for you but......" Another REALLY deep breath, this time eyes closed. When his eyes opened, he was very serious with me and we NEVER get serious. It's always comical in SOME way. The serious things are even comical because I'm just.... "that guy" who is pure puns and finger guns and all fun, y'know. He goes, "My point is, medical school entails the stress you never imagine you can handle... But what you're taking on right now? ALL the things you just listed off---and I know that's just the major things and that there are plenty of little things that you didn't mention in your ...rant...---are too much for even ME to handle. Are too much for a PROFESSIONAL to handle." Me: "But...I'm handling it like a boss ass bitch. I've got all of this under wraps and like I said, as soon as everyone else falls into line and does their parts, which they all obviously are needing my help on since they're all either coming to me or are lost without me, then all of my problems will be cleared up because I just now cleared up all of my major stressors." Then I go into rant mode and get excited, forgetting that my psych is already on the verge of an anxiety attack. Basically ranting about "BECAUSE YOU SEE I DID, X, X, AND X AND Y, Y, AND Y HAPPENED BECAUSE OF MY TAKING INITIATIVE WITH Z, Z, AND Z AND EVERYTHING IS FALLING RIGHT INTO PLACE DUE TO MY EXCELLENCE except like, you know, this chronic pain thing is a bitch, BUT I'M HANDLING THAT TOO BECAUSE I GOT ANOTHER MAJOR ANSWER I NEEDED and now I just need to follow through with that on Monday and then ALL IS WELL IN THE WORLD AND-" Total tangent mode, full on pacing his office, jumping on the couches like a fox, waving my hands, playing with my hair, laughing, spinning coz I'm excited and proud at how well I'm doing and suddenly.... I turn around.... My psych is literally face down on the floor, planking position, just... total defeat, slid out of his chair onto the floor kinda, RIP Drew. Lmao. I stopped mid-sentence and dropped my hands to my side and cocked my head like a puppy and blinked twice and approached him and slid down into a sitting position on top of my legs....and put my fingers on his neck to take his pulse. When I hear a grunt of "I'm not dead, I'm just taking a break from hurricane Killian, who is a category 10." I purse my lips and snicker. "I was born and raised in Florida. There's no such thing as a cate-" "KILLIAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN I AM GOING TO WALK OUT OF THIS OFFICE WITH MY ENTIRE HEAD OF BEAUTIFUL, LUSCIOUS FULL HEAD OF HAIR BALDING AND GREY. BE QUIET, LITTLE BALL OF CHAOS." I snicker a little more and start poking him. "Hey. Hey, Drew. Drew. We're wasting time. OH There was a breakthrough in neuroscience about mapping the active distraction versus passive distraction part of the brain so let's just induce some active distraction of our own since we don't have anything in pills to do that yet or anytime soon. That meaaaaaaaaaaans....." [long groan from Drew] "GAME TIME!!!!" Drew pushes himself up off the floor and sits cross legged opposite me and takes my face in his hands and goes, "No. You listen to me. I am naming you Kill Switch both in hopes that it will somehow slow you the fuck down and because your mind and your words and you, yourself move so fast and have so much energy and so much drive that you just shut everyone else down around you because no one can keep up. Hell, /I/ can barely keep up. Not bragging, but I can keep up with almost anything. That being said..." He literally squishes my cheeks together and gets up close and personal and I'm trying to suppress laughter at this point and trying not to grab his wrists to pry him off of me coz he was in serious mode now and I am almost never serious anymore unless I'm being a drama whore and having a bad day and need attention and writing about it everywhere in rants about what bad, awful thing happened and how I need everyone's support and way more attention than usual (which isn't a lie, but it's still just me being a drama whore) AND HE KNOWS THIS....but when we first met, he DID say "Under all the jokes and puns and that...that thing you do [finger guns] and all the running around and smiling and laughing... You seriously have some intense pain. I mean, I have never felt that kinda pain radiating off of someone before. You're coming back to see me again, right?" I played it off like it was nothing, but then went out to my car and cried coz he couldn't be more right and no one knows or notices that all of that is just a facade for the pain. (Or if they do notice, which is highly unlikely, then they definitely don't care.) He squished my cheeks together and got up close and person and practically put his forehead against mine so that our eyes were literally locked and I COULD NOT look away even if I wanted to. That's the first time I noticed his eyes were green. He spoke very quietly, which is not in EITHER of our nature. We are both very loud and very up-front, blunt, confident, pretty ridiculous people. The loud part is important because he was speaking quietly which never happens. If I speak quietly? Run. So that's when I stopped laughing...and also WHY I stopped laughing and swallowed instead and looked him in the eyes and DID NOT blink. "The amount of things you are taking on right now... in addition to everything else... is a cocktail for being institutionalized. Or, at the BARE minimum, hospitalization." He paused for a moment to let me take that in, because we both knew the implication of it. The last ward I was in...the psych found out the pattern of my 20+ other institutionalizations and how I was playing the system and my "ward persona" and had a whole report written up that is now in my record stating that all of the times I had been recommended for permanent state ward transferal that had been shot down by my lying and manipulation via the "ward persona" I put on to work the system and get out as quickly as possible... should be dealt with and taken seriously and gone through with the next time I was institutionalized. It's in my record. We've both read the report. We both know the next time I get institutionalized will be my last... I will be sent to a state ward and I will never get out or at least not get out in a very, VERY long time and I will be a hollow shell of the amazing, driven, passionate person with an actually attainable dream I have turned myself into if that were to happen. So I just...took a moment.. and swallowed and averted my gaze and pulled away from him and tried to laugh it off. "Leonard." He hates it when I call him by his full name. I go into my signature pose and smirk at him, eyes glinting with playfulness. "I am a boss as bitch and I am handling all of this better than I handled by entire life. I have learned and implemented more actually healthy coping mechanisms in the past...almost a year now... than I have ever even tried in my 8 years in therapy and pretty much LIVING in and out psych wards. I've got this. You know I've got this. And even if YOU don't know I've got this... /I/ know I've got this. And as long as I have faith in myself, I am unstoppable." I raise my arms like I am the christian/catholic god him or herself and look up to the sky, close my eyes and smile, then back down to him, eyes open, locked, focused, driven, and dazzling with utter passion as the most genuine and sadistic of smiles crosses my lips. Drew sighs, cups his chin in one hand and leans his arm on his knee, both of us still on the floor, and he smiles back, the warmth of it spreading even into his eyes. I lower my arms and cross them and shrug. "All that matters is what I think and as long as I'm pragmatic about it, it's all uphill from here." Drew just shakes his head, eyes closed now, but warm smile spreading wider on his face before he starts chuckling and looks at me again, tears at the corners of his eyes. "You are like the one roller coaster ride that every kid wants to ride when they're little but are too scared to do it but get dared to by their friends and they all end up riding it anyways and all of them end up practically traumatized from the fear of it until they get off and wander back out into the park and catch their breath. ....and then they turn to each other and suddenly all scream at once that they wanna ride it again and run right back into the line for the same terrifying roller coaster that just almost traumatized them permanently." "You always have the worst metaphors, you know that?" He starts laughing. "And you gave me a literal anxiety attack and I'm guessing you didn't even know it until just now so I get a free pass on my horrible metaphors." He pulls himself up and then helps me up off the ground and I fall back into the couch and he collapses back into the chair. We're silent for a sec which is VERY rare. Then I look at him and go "Did I SERIOUSLY give you an anxiety attack?" He didn't even hesitate. "YES!!!!!" practically pulling himself out of the chair, laughing, but being totally serious. I purse my lips. ".....yikes." Another rare pause as he settles himself back into his chair and sighs, shaking his head. "What exactly did I do to give you an anxiety attack?" He stares at me in disbelief. "...Well, I guess this guy that diagnosed you as a sociopath was pretty spot on." He smiles at me and thinks for a second, holding up one finger. I hate it when he pauses to think because everything comes so quickly for me and I pause for nothing and when things are slow and/or stagnant, I feel this weird bubbly feeling in my chest and my throat feels like it is closing up and everything gets hot and I start clawing at myself and it's really awful because NO ONE is ever going as fast as me in mind, body, and DEFINITELY not as articulately as I do with my words when I go into rant/tirade/monologue/speech mode. No one can EVER keep up with me.... ever. "Killian. I'm gonna give you some resources on anxiety coz I know you have been asking for them and I managed to compile some and now I see you REALLY need them coz I know you HAVE the ability to comprehend it, but you're going to need a lot of help to do so. I see you putting in the effort every session that we talk about it... but you're still not grasping it. So I've compiled some more, uh...easy-to-learn resources for you on it." He reaches in his drawer with papers and sticky notes and hands it to me. I skim through it while he says; "Oh, and by the way? All of the things you listed? All the things you're taking on? All of those leadership roles you're playing right now in your personal, professional, and every other life you have...? All the... Okay, I can't. I cannot go over all the things because I'm going to stress MYSELF out. So..." I look up from the papers. "THAT is what gave me an anxiety attack. Luckily, I can easily control mine, but I am exhausted just by LISTENING to everything you're doing right now. I don't know how you're still standing alert and energetic and driven and passionate after all the times you've been knocked down so far....and after everything you've gone through... and with ALL of these things you're taking on? You need to............ you need to do EXACTLY what your physical therapist said, only for your MIND, not just your body and..." "...no..." "Slow..." "...don't..." "...DOWN..." "...GOD FUCKING DAMNIT, DREW. IS2G, I'M GONNA-" And that's possibly the most serious therapy session I have had in a long time and it was also possible the hardest in a long time. And I crossed a thing off my bucket lisst that I didn't know was on my bucket list and didn't even want to be on my bucket list. There is the story of how I gave my psych an anxiety attack. ***Story is obvs not verbatim because I do not have an eidetic memory. But this is p much exactly what happened and I’m not exaggerating in the slightest because we are both VERY dramatic people...which is probably why we get along so well....Lmao.

[scriptshrink]

Bad Psychology: Netflix’s “Gypsy” (Part 1)

CW: alcohol, suicide

So Netflix made a show about a “therapist,” starring a woman I forgot the name of who is essentially a Knockoff Nicole Kidman (and thus will hereafter be referred to as “KNK”). In summary, KNK is a therapist who is bored with her marriage and decides she wants to sleep with a client’s ex-girlfriend that she’s heard him describe in therapy.

This show is a garbage fire. It’s so bad. I only managed to watch the first two episodes and I have never in my life regretted wasting as much time as I did on it.

As someone studying to become a clinical psychologist, this show’s portrayal of therapy makes me want to scream and tear my hair out. This show promotes an extremely inaccurate portrayal of therapy that may prevent people from seeking the help they need. It gives therapists a bad name. As such, I feel the need to set the record straight.

[Gif: Picard from Star Trek: “What you’re doing here is unethical. It’s immoral. I’ll fight it.”]

Note - This post has been broken up into two parts: this part deals with my therapy-related critique, and Part 2 will be my general / random thoughts about the show (including the fact that the very title of the show is a racist slur). 

Let’s get started. God help us.

The first time we see her in therapy, KNK is writing nothing but the word “boundaries” over and over in her notes. Very professional. That’s definitely going to help jog your memory when you’re typing up session notes later. /s

Actual dialogue:

Old lady client: I haven't seen [my daughter Rebecca] in two months. She barely answers her phone. So this weekend, when she canceled, I blew up! Why do you think she's avoiding me?

KNK: It's impossible for me to speculate on Rebecca's life. I only have access to you.

Client: I think she's just busy. If she were dating, that would be a good enough reason. I used to hope that she wasn't picking up because she was having sex. [laughs] That would be fine by me, you know?

KNK: I understand your concern, but by giving her space, you might show her that you're respecting her boundaries.

Client: I'm furious... that she won't give her mother any time. Her job is more important. The gym is more important. Even her weekly blow-out every Monday. That she has time for. And I've been to that salon. It’s really not very nice.

KNK: Rebecca loves you, Claire. Just give it some time. Emotions change like the wind.

[Gif: Morello from OITNB resting her head on her hand, smiling and marveling at the stupidity, “Do you hear yourself sometimes? Like, when you speak?”]

KNK, you cannot say that the client’s daughter really loves her. You said yourself that you can’t speculate about her. You have no fucking idea if it’s true.

Just stop.

Different Client: *tells story about having to drop out of school because she was caught stealing money for drugs and how her mom has lung cancer*

KNK: *uncomfortably long blank stare*

Immediately cut to KNK ordering wine at a coffee shop (in the middle of the day, no less) to try to impress the client’s ex-girlfriend she wants to bang.

BECAUSE WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO SHOW ACTUAL THERAPY IN A SHOW ABOUT A THERAPIST

Wait. I think I figured it out. KNK isn’t really a therapist. She’s a fucking voyeur. She doesn’t actually want to help anyone. She is taking lurid pleasure in her clients’ vulnerability and pain.

Oh, and speaking of wine, KNK is drunk or drinking in about half of all the scenes she’s in. She drinks wine at lunch and goes back to see more clients like wtf. 

...Hold on. I take it back, this could actually be a good thing!

[Gif - Ron Swanson from Parks and Rec “Put some alcohol in your mouth to block the words from coming out.”]

Please for the love of god anything to get KNK to stop spewing her unethical nonsense.

Oh, man. The supervision scenes (where KNK meets with other therapists and they discuss their clients and stuff) are fucking hilarious.

KNK: He shouldn't marry her.

Therapist 1: Uh, that's not for us to decide. We're here to address his issues, not make his decisions.

Note - “Uh” here translates roughly to: “what the fuck is wrong with you, did you not pay attention during literally the entirety of your graduate education? We fucking learned this day one and were reminded at least once a month for literal years.”

KNK: I'm sorry. I just feel like we've been hearing about his rampant cheating stories for the past year straight. And now he's getting married.

Therapist 2: Well, behavior change takes a long time. And he's made growth in his commitment to his relationship, so as long as he's showing up for sessions and putting the work in--

KNK: I'm not questioning that we support our patients, but if they keep making poor choices, maybe we need to change tactics. It's just disheartening that sometimes all we can do is help them keep their head above water.

Because respecting your clients’ agency and keeping your clients alive is boring and sad.

Also, KNK could not be more condescending in this scene if she fucking tried. Just fucking look at her:

[Image: KNK looking patronizing as fuck, “I’m not questioning that we support our patients…”]

Therapist 1: Jean, remember, our job is not to do the work for our patients. Sometimes we're just here to listen, to be a sounding board. And realize that you can't fix everyone.

KNK: Yeah, I know. I get it. Trust me, I have tried. But I am just tired of sitting in that office listening to the same old story week after week with no results. It's frustrating.

I dunno, KNK...maybe you could try doing actual therapy, not just sitting in your office twiddling your thumbs while listening to your client?  Like...maybe try CBT or DBT? Teach your client some coping skills?

Oh, right. That would involve a level of competency that KNK clearly does not have.

[Image - KNK at a supervision meeting with other therapists. KNK: “And now she’s questioning the value of therapy, the value of me.”]

Newsflash, KNK - your client is questioning your value because you’re a worthless therapist.

OH SHIT STOP THE PRESSES. She’s actually giving her client homework! Like a real therapist might! I wonder what it is!

Oh. She wants the client to sign an oath not to contact his ex-girlfriend, who KNK is trying to bang.

Seriously, that’s the homework.

Because if he contacts his ex, there’s a chance he’ll find out about KNK trying to bang her.

Fuck you, KNK, you selfish unethical asshole.

Oh, also, a former client of KNK’s is evidently accusing her of something (unspecified as of the end of episode 2). This is KNK’s response.

[Image: KNK: “Yeah, well, she’s borderline. She’ll say anything.”]

Really. REALLY???

Now. It’s an unfortunate fact that some therapists don’t treat their borderline clients well. But what the actual fuck. Do you really want to paint your protagonist as a shitty, awful person?

Oh, wait. Too late.

So a random client shows up and is just sitting in KNK’s office waiting for her, which is potentially a huge breach of the confidentiality of KNK’s other clients.

KNK’s response is to make a snide comment about there being a waiting room, then to proceed to yell at client for being late to the appointment. 

Because wasting a therapist’s time is worse than something that is actually illegal and can result in thousands of dollars in fines. KNK’s clearly got her priorities straight.

KNK then lets that same client fall asleep on the couch in her office. Just in case it wasn’t unethical enough the first time around!

For fuck’s sake.

[Image: A seedy nightclub bathroom. KNK says to her client’s ex who she’s trying to bang: “You’re like a human Rorschach.”]

So she’s outdated, invalid, and meaningless? Sick fucking burn, bro!

Also, Hermann Rorschach, who was in all likelihood human* would like a word. I think the writers meant to say “inkblot.”

Who the fuck is writing this fucking shit.

* Note - the Shrink has no evidence to confirm or deny that Hermann Rorschach was a vampire, werewolf, or other non-human creature.

The absolute worst part comes when KNK’s ‘forbidden’ and ‘dangerous’ relationship with her client’s ex leads to KNK learning something important about her actual client. Namely, that said client has in the past been suicidal after a breakup.

This is slightly important because, you know, said client is currently going through another breakup - and may become suicidal again.

Guess what? KNK NEVER FUCKING BRINGS IT UP IN THERAPY.

She didn’t have to tell him she knows about his past. She could just ask him if he’s having thoughts of suicide - it’s a routine question that therapists ask! A lot! Some therapists will ask it every session!

But no.

KNK legitimately does not fucking care if her client lives or dies.

The only value her client has to her is that she can pump him for information about his ex-girlfriend. She uses her position as a therapist to manipulate her client into serving KNK’s agenda to get laid.

I’m not joking.

Actual transcript:

KNK: You know, I was thinking, Sam, is it possible that you came on too strong with Sidney [his ex that KNK wants to bang]?

Sam: [stammering] What do you mean? Today?

KNK: No, in general. She just seems so independent and free-spirited, from the way you describe her. Maybe she felt claustrophobic.

Sam: I don't understand why you're telling me this.

Me fucking either.

Sam: We were in love, and then she got scared. Decided she needed to experience more shit. More people.

KNK: So she's dating?

Sam: No, she actually told me she’s not interested in any guys.

KNK: So she's interested in women?

Sam: No. What?

KNK: Well, the way you... Anyway, it's very common for young women to dally or try things.

How fucking dare you.

Fuck this show. Fuck everyone involved in producing it. Fuck Netflix for hosting it.

[Gif: John Oliver repeatedly pounding his fists on a table and saying angrily, “Fuck you! Fuck you all forever! You fuck yourself! You go fuck yourself right now!”]

Okay. The Shrink needs to take a break to calm down. Stay tuned for Part 2.

Disclaimer // Support me on patreon. I watch this shit so you don’t have to.

[looselucy]

Group Therapy

1 The city was a mere rumble of unfriendly noises as I made my way to work. When I’d moved there, I’d made myself a promise that I would walk to work every morning, but on mornings like that, when the rain was pouring so heavily that it was bouncing up from the pavement and making sure I was soaked through twice over, that I regretted that promise I had made. But it was a promise nonetheless, and I refused to break it.

Every single noise was amplified, the downpour, the car horns, the entire rush of people trying to get indoors and already wound up by the fact it was Monday. By the time I finally reached my destination, I looked like a drowned rat. The building where I worked was the least outstanding thing imaginable, a dull concrete monster barely distinguishable from the others that surrounded it, another drab addition to my already dull day. “Forget your umbrella again?” Gina on reception tried to cover her laugh. “Don’t get me started.” I huffed. I rushed past her, leaving a trail of water behind me as got in the elevator and went up to the top floor, checking the time on my watch and seeing I had three minutes before I needed to be sat at my desk and getting on with my work. Once I reached the top floor, I pretty much ran to my desk, wringing out my hair onto the carpet without caring at all, and finally reaching my destination. The place I worked took complaints. All day, every day. There was a shopping centre in the middle of the city, with over 200 stores, and if anyone had anything negative to say about any of them, it was us they called. They would ring, they would complain (usually about very mundane things) we had to get as much information as we could, write all about them, and we would either let them know they would get a free coffee or something along those lines, or if it was a really serious complaint, we would send them off to the actual companies head office. Very exciting. A riveting job, some would say. Each desk in our office sat four people, and there were ten desks. More or less everyone in our office was pretty young, because they didn’t ask for many qualifications there, the pay was alright, and it wasn’t exactly the kind of job people aspire to. Before I took my seat, I took off my coat and stuck my middle finger up at the umbrella that I had left on my desk on Friday, getting a small chuckle from my desk buddies, who were already sat down, ready to work. There was me, Sasha who sat next to me, Niall who sat across from her, and Molly who was across from me. “Morning.” Sasha grinned. “You know, Ren, you’re supposed to dry yourself once you get out of the shower.” “And you’re supposed to know, that you can’t make fun of me before I’ve had my first coffee of the morning.” I told her. I sat down and turned my laptop on, hoping those eight hours would fly by, even though the evening I had planned wasn’t too exciting either. “I’ll make brews in five minutes.” Niall groaned. “Just let me wake up.” I got started on some paperwork I had left half-finished on Friday evening, groaning to myself the very second it hit 9AM, because the phone calls would just start rolling in. Niall whimpered dramatically to himself before he picked up the phone, rolling his eyes but putting on the happiest voice he could. We were lucky though. Weekends there were always busier, but weekends were when they brought the part timers in, usually students who lived in the city who needed some extra cash. That worked perfectly for me. Weekends off were exactly what I wanted/needed. “I think we’re gunna go watch a film tonight.” Sasha spoke to me. “You in?” “Ah, I can’t. I have a hot date.” “OOOOOH with who?” “Oh, with my therapist and loads of other weirdos.” I fake smiled, and then dropped that smile quickly. “It’s this group session she’s forcing me to go to.” “Tell me why you still go to those things?” “My mum would kill me if I didn’t. She pays there directly so I can’t stop going.” She groaned on my behalf, typing away on her computer. I was pretty open about my therapy because, well, I didn’t think I actually needed it. It wasn’t this dirty little secret I had. In fact, I made jokes about it. Often. The only thing that really bothered me about it was how much of a rut I seemed to be stuck in. I wondered what improvements my mother needed to see from my perfectly normal life for her to say that I didn’t have to go and see Dr Jackson anymore. It seemed like an endless cycle. “So you don’t feel one hundred percent happy with the coffee you had?” We heard Niall on the phone, rolling his eyes. “And-and why is that?” That was work for us, each day as dull and drab as the last. However, I was on the best table in the office. We were the ones you could guarantee would be howling and having a laugh before anyone else in there. Some of the stares we got were jealous ones, wishing they were on the fun table with us, but most of the stares were angry ones, wishing we would all just shut the hell up. I felt grateful to be on a table where I had managed to make real friends, rather than simple colleagues. “Can’t you make some kind of deal with your therapist?” Molly huffed. “Where your mum keeps paying but you don’t actually have to go?  That’s win win, right? It can be your little secret with your therapist. Doesn’t she hate you anyway?” “I think she does.” I shrugged. “I’d hate to have me as a client anyway.” “Sarcastic as fuck.” Molly nodded. “Exactly. I don’t take it seriously. But I think she hates me so much she wouldn’t even let me do that. I’m almost convinced she wants to make my life a misery. Oh god. I’m going to need a therapist because of my therapist, aren’t I?” I gasped dramatically. Molly and Sasha chuckled quietly to themselves as Niall dropped his head into his hands, trying to deal with the nightmare he was currently facing over the phone. “I’m sorry, Miss Saunders, but I don’t imagine I’ll be able to get you an endless supply of free coffee.” Sometimes complaints were genuine, about staff, the way they had been treated or products that were being sold way past their sell-by date, and those people were genuinely pretty nice when they rang. Most of our calls, unfortunately, were idiots like that, who just wanted endless amounts of free stuff for minor faults. I wasn’t necessarily unhappy at work, but nor was I happy. “There has to be a way you can get out of this.” Sasha sulked. “I guess I just need to get my life together.” 2 Checking my watch, I realised I only had around an hour to get myself fed, washed, and back out of the door so I would get to the group therapy in time. I opened the door to my flat, throwing my bag to the floor and only being able to step foot into the living room/kitchen for a second before I was screaming my head off. “ARGH! FUCK! HOLY SHIT! MO?” I yelled. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” “You left your door open again.” He shrugged, totally unfazed as he ate one of my breakfast-bars. “I thought I would teach you a lesson.” “You bastard!” I clutched my hand over my heart. “I nearly did a little wee.” “Well you should start locking your door, shouldn’t you?” He lectured. Mohammad Ammar. The most annoying best friend I’d ever had in my life. He lived in the flat above mine, and one day when a foot came crashing through my ceiling, we met. Strange circumstances, that’s a given, but we became fast friends after that. I moved to join him behind the kitchen counter which separated the kitchen from the tiny living area, slapping his arm and taking the food out of his hand, and finishing it myself. “If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you.” I told him. “I’d love to see you try, Ren. I’d fuck you up.” He said seriously, before a smile broke his firmness. “How was work?” “I was on the phone to a woman for forty-five minutes as she complained about a man working in a breast-cancer charity shop, just because he was a man.” “Seriously?” “Seriously. Totally backwards. How was your day?” “Someone threw a donut at me.” “Pleasant world we live in, isn’t it?” I snorted. Mo worked in a small independent café just around the corner from our building, and he often encountered self-entitled idiots. I think this was one of the main things that made us bond in the first place, just being able to bitch about work for a while. On top of that, he was genuinely one of the loveliest people I had ever met in my life. I imagined anyone could get on with Mo, the guy was nothing but niceness embodied. Even when he made me leap out of my skin, he had good intentions. “You still going to this group therapy thing?” “Yeah.” “Is it compulsory?” “No, but I feel like if I go, maybe Dr Jackson will think I’m actually making an effort and maybe I can stop going to these ridiculous sessions point blank.” “You really think that’s how it works?” He huffed. “I don’t have a clue how it works, I just need it to be over.” I sighed. “Anyway, I’m in a rush so get out of my flat, you idiot.” He messed up my hair, and then skipped over to where he had abandoned his bag on the floor, predictably having checked to see if I had left my door unlocked again when he was jogging up the stairs after a long day at work, and finding out I had done exactly that. He threw the bag over his shoulder and started making his way out the door. “Good luck tonight! Love ya!” “Love you too!” “Lock your door!” “Okaaaay!” Once he slammed the door, I finished the half-eaten breakfast-bar he had been eating, gripping it between my teeth as I shrugged my jacket off and smelt my armpits, wondering if I really needed to have a shower. The clock was ticking and I was a natural at being late. I ran back through my hall, past my front door to the opposite side my of apartment, where my bedroom was. It wasn’t big in there, just enough space to hide all my crap. My bed was tucked up in the corner right under the window, which offered me a fantastic view of the building that was just a footpaths width away from ours. It wasn’t the biggest or best place, but it was all I could afford. I started undressing when I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen. “Shit shit shit.” I ran back through, trying my best to unclasp my bra. I threw my bra on the kitchen floor as I routed through my bag and found my phone, an item I had somehow managed to avoid feeling the need to always have on my person, and saw my sister’s name. “Hey, Matilda.” I tried not to groan when I answered. “What’s up?” “Hi Florence darling, how are you?” “Super darling, how are you?” I mimicked I often found myself copying the tone of her voice, because it was so fake. My grandfather had invested in a company in his younger years, and it proved to be a wise investment. It was something to do with oil and transport and some other complicated stuff that I had never really wrapped my head around, and it ended up earning him millions. He died when I was 15 and Matilda was 17, and the millions he had made and barely spent, were passed down to my father. Things changed after that. Some of those things were big, like our family moving into that idiotic mansion of a house. Matilda went off to study at Oxford, and I struggled with the massive change to our life whilst my parents lapped up the croquet court they had put into the garden. But there were small changes too, one of the main ones being the fact that Matilda and my mother’s voices had changed dramatically. They put on these posh, pretentious tones, something that literally came from them having money and their lifestyles changing. It was something me and my father rolled our eyes at often. Matilda had gotten so used to it she barely noticed my mocking. “I didn’t call to chat-” “Good good.” I sighed. “-I just called to ask if you’re coming home for Christmas. Mother was very upset when you didn’t come home last year.” “Yes, I imagine she was very upset when she didn’t have anyone there to criticise. Send her my best wishes.” Matilda and myself were two very different people. Even when we were younger we weren’t really that close. It was strange how different we were when we had been raised by the same two people. “Look, I just think it’s best if you come home and make amends.” She tutted. “Amends for what?” My voice was a mere squeal. “For everything, Florence. She’ll be furious if you don’t come again.” “Look, I’ll be there okay? But right now I’m in a rush so I’ve got to go. Tell mum I’ll come home. I’ll endure it.” “Learn your manners before you do, Florence.” I hung up, the conversation not even warranting a goodbye. It wasn’t often I was like that with any member of my family. It wasn’t always arguments and bitter exchanges. Most of the time we were just normal with one another, we would chat casually on the odd occasion and things were just okay. It was usually during a lead up to when we would all be back together where things turned a little sour. I pulled my pants down on the run back through my bedroom and into my tiny bathroom, scrambling to quickly turn the shower on. I waited for a few minutes with my fingers under the running water, and yet no heat came. “Not again.” I sulked. This may seem hard to believe, but even with my tiny flat with no hot water, with my family breathing down my neck, with my tedious job and my needless therapy, that stage in my life was somehow the happiest. That was not a lie. 3 Despite by best efforts, I had arrived at the group therapy late. Not too late, I hadn’t missed any of the fun, but by the time I burst through the door, everyone was sat down in a circle on those horrible fold out chairs I hadn’t seen since school and prayed I wouldn’t see again. All eyes were on me as I slowly shut the door behind myself. Dr Jackson shook her head as she leaned against the wall to the far right, an oblong circle of seats spreading the room, another wall full of windows directly ahead of me. I gave her a shy smile, as she pointed out my assigned seat to me. Pressed against the wall on the left was a table, which had on it an assortment of small cakes and biscuits, sandwiches cut into triangles. I swear, it was just like she was trying to remind us all exactly what this was. It felt the opposite of casual, just like her office was. If I had come into a room with sofas, people sat on the floor, sat where they wanted to be and free to arrive either ten minutes early or ten minutes late or whenever they wanted, there would have been the slight possibility that I would feel comfortable; that I would walk in there and just relax a little bit, and feel more like I could open up and talk about whatever it was she thought I needed to talk about. The room was filled with nothing but awkwardness as soon as I walked in, every tiny little detail just screaming, hey, don’t forget you’re in therapy. I took my seat, wedged between a young girl and a middle aged woman who looked just as furious as I did about this whole situation. Dr Jackson slowly wandered into the middle, looking around the circle and clapping her hands together. “Hi, everyone.” She greeted, the chirpiest I had ever seen her. “I’m really glad you all decided to come here today, because I know a lot of you are sceptical but I think you can all benefit from this greatly. So, give yourself a round of applause.” Slowly, one by one, people began uncomfortably clapping, looking around at each other, bemused looks on our faces. Apart from one guy, who was clapping a little too enthusiastically. I sunk a little further into my seat as Dr Jackson continued talking about what it meant us all being there that day, what we had to gain from it, and I decided this was my perfect opportunity to zone out, and scope the room. The first person who caught my eye was a young girl, she must have still been in school. I could see how she was holding in her tears, entirely intimidated by the situation. I felt for her, I really did. I had a tough exterior most of the time, which was something I was thankful for, and something she didn’t possess. She was terrified, and I really felt for her. I scanned the room again, and my eyes landed on a boy. He was just as slouched as I was, his gangly legs stretched out ahead of him, long brown curls falling past his shoulders, a floaty shirt on that drowned his broad body. He seemed too relaxed, I thought. I figured it wasn’t his first group therapy session. The only other person who really grabbed my attention alongside those two was a middle-aged man, his short hair sticking to his forehead thanks to the sweat, and he was just shaking. He couldn’t stop shaking. He was gripping his hands together on the top of his knees like he was praying, and maybe he was. The image I’d had in my head about the day was nothing compared to the real thing. “So would anybody like to start us off?” Dr Jackson smiled. The boy who had overdone the round of applause was up on his feet in seconds, seemingly excited to introduce himself and share his issues. I tutted as quietly as I physically could, rolling my eyes at the same time, desperate for the evening to just end so I could go home. “Hi everyone, my names Ryan.” He worked the room. “I come to see Bryony because I used to have really huge issues with drugs. Thankfully I kicked the habit, but I come here and talk about what I think it was that made me take those drugs in the first place.” He was so pleased with himself, and as much as it made me grimace, I was also kind of jealous. This guy knew exactly why he was in therapy and what he wanted from it. He knew his issues and he was excited to work on them and get better. It might have been annoying for me, but it must have been amazing for him. “Does anyone have any questions for Ryan?” Bryony, whose name I had just learnt, egged us on. “Have you found out why?” A blonde lad piped up. I guess I was surprised by the amount of people there who were around my age. I knew we were a pretty lost as a generation, lumbered with the mistakes of the generation previous and trying to figure out how we could make things better when those who had fucked it up for us still held the power, but I still didn’t imagine that we would make up the percentage of the room. But most the faces I saw that day were the faces of people in their twenties. “After around six months of seeing Bryony,” Ryan continued. “She helped me to remember when I was younger, and my mum used to smoke weed in the house, and I remember her being a very happy woman when I was small. I guess that’s where it started, but we’re still working on it.” “Any relapses?” Blondie continued with his questions. “There used to be, yeah.” He went on, seeming to pout even when he was speaking. “But I’ve actually been sober for just shy of a year now.” An unspurred round of applause happened then, a quiet one, unforced and the complete opposite of fake, like the last one had been. “And do you feel happy like this?” The inquisitive boy continued. “Or do you just stay away from all of that because you know that’s what you should be doing? Are you really happy with your life now, or are you just dealing with it?” I stared at the boy with the questions with wide eyes. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to ask questions, never mind questions that were as brutal and real as that. Even Ryan seemed a little lost for words. “I’m… I’m trying to find a way to be happy like this. Bryony is helping me.” He sat himself down with a loud thud, clearly not wanting any more questions. It was already much more intense than I expected it to be, and I couldn’t imagine Ryan felt better after that. He looked like he’d been punched in the throat. Dr Jackson moved back into the centre of the circle. “The next person I’d like to speak, is probably my least enthusiastic client I have, and the most cynical. Florence, would you mind sharing with the group?” I barely even registered she was talking to me, one because I wasn’t ready at all, I was still pretty much staring at everyone in the room, and two because she’d called me bloody Florence again. She cleared her throat to grab my attention. “What, me?” I gawped. “Oh. Do I have to stand up?” “Do whatever makes you comfortable, Florence.” “Well, not calling me Florence would be a start.” I winked at her. “Right. Um, hiya, my names Ren… Um… Do you want me to tell the truth, or tell them why you think I’m here?” “Tell them why you need help.” I could tell I was trying her patience. “Hmm… No I’m going to tell them the truth.” I prompted myself. “I dropped out of uni after my first year, and then I moved to the city and got a job.” I stopped there, smiling out to the group of strangers as I watched all their brows lower, waiting for me to say something else, but there was technically nothing else to say. Dr Jackson seemed extremely unimpressed. My best reaction from her to date. I bet she missed her pen. “Is that it?” The brunette boy with the curls and the gangly legs asked. “Pretty much. My mum thinks this is terrible. She thinks my life is a mess and she thinks there’s something wrong with me. So, she pays Dr Jackson, and I have to come and see her. That’s why I come to therapy. I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to because I’m totally fine.” I left the room a little stuck for words, but only for a short while. I was just waiting for questions boy to unleash hell on me. I stared at him, waiting. “You don’t think there’s anything wrong with you?” He finally did it, speaking like I was an idiot. “No.” I replied confidently. “Nothing at all?” “Nope.” “I don’t get that.” Blondie shrugged. “I mean… I’m not saying everyone needs therapy, don’t get me wrong, but I think if everyone had to go to see a therapist, they’d probably be able to find something to talk about. You know what I mean?” I did know exactly what he meant. Every single person carried their own weight, all summoned and spurred by different events and people in their lives. I knew exactly what he meant. I guess he did make me second-guess myself a little. He was good at that. “Yeah I know what you mean. We’ve recently got onto the topic of my mum being disappointed in me.” I breathed, easing into it slightly. “What about your dad?” “He’s not so bad. I mean… I don’t think he’s thrilled with my life, but he’s not quite as vocal about it as my mum is.” “Siblings?” “An older sister.” “I told Florence recently that a lot of my clients are younger siblings.” Dr Jackson interrupted. “I fit right on the shelf.” I huffed. “They love my sister. She went to Oxford and… well she’s generally quite perfect. She makes me look terrible in comparison.” “Does it upset you?” “Frustrates me. It didn’t used to, but as soon I dropped out of uni, and then when my sister graduated. I dunno. It just got worse. But I don’t think that warrants therapy.” That was hard to argue with, even questions boy couldn’t think of anything immediately. I didn’t even need to mention how furious my mother would be if she knew that my therapist was blaming her for the possible reasons I needed these sessions. She would lose her mind if she knew a bad word had been said about her. “So, your mum thinks that you need therapy just because you dropped out of uni?” Blondie went on. “Yeah.” “And has no idea that you don’t talk about that in your therapy meetings? That you’re actually talking about her?” “No idea.” I laughed. “Dr Jackson, what do you think?” Everyone looked up to her, and I was hoping she would be honest, that she wouldn’t bullshit her way through the question, because I wasn’t entirely sure she was convinced I needed therapy. She was only young, she must have been in her early 30’s. I thought maybe she was new to this, maybe she needed as many clients as she could get. “I think that Florence has an anger she hides. I think she hides behind humour and her strong sense of self, when really, I think she is hurt by the way her family sees her. I do not think she made a mistake dropping out of university, I actually think that is the best thing she could have done for herself. And yes, I may agree in some ways that she doesn’t strictly need therapy, but I do believe I can help her feel better, and that’s something I’m willing to do. No matter how hard.” I was hoping she would say something where I could reply with some witty comment and make myself feel better, but for once she’d said something completely honest. She didn’t sugar-coat it or try to make it sound overly professional, she was just honest. My throat went completely dry because of it. She looked at me, as though waiting for me to say something. “I’m done.” I shook my head. “Okay.” She sighed, seeming disappointed again. “We’ll move on.” The frustrated woman who was sat next to me raised her hand, opting to speak next. I think she did that because she just wanted to get it out of the way really, but I was glad she did, because I was suddenly very overwhelmed trying to process what Dr Jackson had just said. She’d hit the nail on the head. She’d even said that it wasn’t likely that I did need therapy, but she was willing to try and make me feel better, no matter how ignorant I’d been during every single session, she wanted to try and make me feel better about myself. Maybe that was something I needed after all. I didn’t know how I felt. All I knew was that my head was spinning, and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I sat in silence as the evening continued, listening to people talking about their problems, seeing how awkward everyone felt, and how that blonde guy just kept asking everyone bloody questions. I wasn’t that surprised when he finally got round to speaking about his problems, and explained that he had a severe type of anxiety, one that made him question his entire existence. It was no wonder he felt the need to have as many answers as he had available to him. “Harry, would you like to talk about why you’re here?” Dr Jackson smiled. She looked down to the boy with the curls who I had noticed early on in the evening, who seemed relatively reluctant to share, but then he finally sat himself upright, brushing some of his long hair from his face before he cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m Harry. I.. I have night terrors. I have them every single night, and I’m not sure why. It’s usually quite easy for people to recall… painful memories or experiences which could cause things like that. I’ve actually had a really good life though, so… we’re just trying to figure out what makes me have the nightmares, and… y’know… we’re trying to find a way of making sure I don’t have them anymore. I’ve been seeing Dr Jackson for a year, and we’ve had no success so far.” Everyone’s heads turned towards question boy, because he was actually saving us all job, and we were all relying on him at this stage. “So you’re trying to find repressed memories?” He didn’t even notice our stares. “I guess so.” Curls shrugged. “What do you dream about?” “I… I dream that I’m in a blue room. Just a blue room. Nothing really happens. I’m just… I’m alone in there… sometimes red lights start flashing, and then I wake up.” “That’s it?” “That’s it.” “What’s so scary about that?” “I don’t know.” He gulped. Curls was the most helpless of the lot of us. He had real issues, and not a single clue how to stop them, or what was even causing them. How would you even know where to begin with something like that? A year deep into weekly sessions and group gatherings every three months must have been draining enough all in itself, never mind if you had made no progress at all. “What’s it like when you wake up?” “Horrible.” Curls seemed to tremble. “It’s… It’s horrible. Screaming and… crying and shaking and sweating. It’s every fucking night. I’m… I’m losing my mind. I don’t know what to do anymore. I just feel so marooned. I’m scared to sleep.” Everyone fell silent, no more questions to be asked and no words of comfort for him. Dr Jackson stepped in. “I’m going to work with Harry until we find the cause of these dreams.” She spoke strongly. “I’ve even been studying and looking into techniques that have helped cases like Harry’s in the past, and we’re going to try new things.” Curls/Harry went back into his slumped position, shooting a small, grateful smile up to Dr Jackson and trying to pretend he wasn’t completely drained by how open he had just been with the room, and I imagined this wasn’t his first time explaining himself to people he didn’t even know. I wondered how many different faces he had seen in these sessions over the past year. I wondered how many people he had seen with horrible issues who had gotten better and stopped their therapy, and I wondered how painful that would have been for him to see. To know that people were getting better, and he was still in the same situation, with probably more questions now than he ever had before. He seemed tired. Every blink was drawn out and filled with exhaustion. I felt really bad for him. My eyes moved along the group as a woman got to her feet and started to open up about her depression, visibly relieved as her shoulders dropped and she became more relaxed. It might not have been right for me, but it seemed talking openly really did help some people. I appreciated that. 4 It was going dark as I exited the building, shrugging my coat on tightly, somehow convinced that would help block out the cold. I’d stayed behind and waited until everyone else was out of the room, playing with my fingers as I tried to process the evening. I somehow felt the weight of other people’s issues on my shoulders, thinking about the poor shaking man who was scared of the dark, the young schoolgirl who’d been abused by her father, Curls and his dreams. I’d never felt so out of place in my life. I needed a few minutes to just process everything I had heard, how I felt about it. I’d thanked Dr Jackson for her time once everyone had gone, and then finally left the room, my legs hardly able to carry my weight. I walked outside with my head down, a sickly feeling crawling up my throat, hoping that I would never have to go to one of those sessions again. I didn’t want to go through that again, it was too draining for me. I never wanted to step foot in the damn building again. When I raised my head, I noticed a small group of people, people I had just been in the room with. A small circle of them stood conversing. Two girls who looked maybe a little older than me, an older man, Curls was there too, and a few more people who hadn’t really captured my attention over the evening. One of the girls shyly ushered me over to join them. I slowly approached, questioning what the hell they were talking about and why they wanted me to get involved. It seemed to be a group who were all in their 20’s, really. Everyone else had already dispersed. “What’s going on?” I whispered. “We’re talking about going for a drink.” Curls grinned, even though I hadn’t directed the question at him. “We thought maybe we could actually gain something if we go somewhere with a relaxed atmosphere. If anyone wants to talk, they can. Otherwise, we can just get drunk. You in?” Group therapy drinking session. My life really had taken a turn I’d never seen coming. One of the girls nudged me, and gave me a hopeful look. It was mainly boys, and those two girls seemed like they wanted as much female company as they could find, probably just to feel a little safer. Females often found comfort in one another, and I knew this was just one of those cases. As bizarre as the entire idea was, I couldn’t really see the harm in it. Even though it was dark, it was relatively early. “Okay.” I shrugged. “I’m in.” “Amazing.” Curls clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I know a really good place. I’ll get in the first round.” He set off right away, knowing the crowd would follow. He was a natural leader, and not in an intimidating way, nor was it in a pretentious way. People began following automatically, everyone with a slight spring in their step, because Curls gave off really good vibes, vibes that had been almost impossible to see in that room. The exhaustion I had seen controlling him was now nowhere to be seen, he was this perfectly normal guy with an exuberant confidence. He started our journey with an exhilarating flame, and his new disciples followed behind him with sparks our steps.

[lessthanmacyalexis]

Relief || Macy Alexis

Macy was exhausted. Not the I need to sleep in late next weekend exhausted, more like the every bone in her body felt heavy and her eyes never wanted to stay open. But she couldn’t sleep. Had so much to do. Julia had been having nightmares for the past two weeks, almost every night. Even when she had tried to catch up on some sleep Macy was woken up by the sounds of her daughter crying almost on a schedule. Julia kept her up most of the night, and by then she couldn’t go to bed, or she’d sleep past when she had to go to work. And as she was finishing up her first album Macy couldn’t afford to be late, every second she had in the studio was a reminder that this was the make or break moment of her career. That if this album didn’t do well she would have to spend years rebuilding her reputation, just to get another chance like this one.  And if it did, that opened up an entirely new can of worms, because she’d be thrust into a whole world of new responsibilities at work, possibly even put in charge of scouting out her own artists to work with, and that would eat up at any of her free time left. Not that she had a whole lot of it now, really the only time she could get to herself was when she could convince somebody to let Julia sleep over. And with the nightmares that was becoming less and less likely, Julia would cry for her mother until Macy was there.  So she lost out her time to be a sister, a friend, a girlfriend to her two jobs, work and being a mother. And that brought a whole new wave of stress and worries.  

Every other Monday, Macy left work an hour early to go to therapy sessions. It’d taken her suicide attempt to finally admit she wasn’t okay, and that she couldn’t just wait for it to pass. So she’d been in therapy, twice a month, ever since.  And right now she needed it. Had vented here and there to her siblings, her friends, Dustin, but something about these sessions made it so easy to get it all out.  Every last fraction of something that was eating at her. When time came for her to leave Macy had nearly bolted out the door. There was still so much work to be done, but if she missed this appointment she thought she might explode.  Coming into her therapist’s office, she didn’t even bother with formalities before shooting off. 

“This is so much! I never thought I was gonna have half of what I do now and I don’t have a fucking clue how to handle it! Julia keeps having bad dreams, and she won’t let anyone else calm her down. So I have to stay up so I don’t miss her crying or she’ll never get back to sleep, and then it takes me an hour of singing and stories and cuddling to get her to drift off again and if I’m lucky she’ll stay asleep but I am barely ever lucky so I can’t get any rest, which is fine, honestly, it’s a phase and I kinda missed it from when she was a newborn and screaming all the time, or it would be fine if it was just that. If I was just a mom I could handle Julia so well! Actually, who knows. I might be a terrible mother, who’s gonna tell me that? Dustin and my friends are so goddamn supportive and my siblings have the same mother I did and she’s not exactly and shining example. So what if I’m just fucking her up and nobody’s telling me? Oh god, what if she turns out like me? I was so goddamn miserable for so long, I don’t want that for her.  I keep thinking I should quit and find something less intensive to do, so I get more time with her, but then I don’t want to set the example of setting aside my dreams because I was too busy being a slut to make sure the condom didn’t break. And I don’t know how to explain to her that her father just up and left her life! Everyone tells me that she’s not going to be missing the love in her life and I know that’s true but Ty is still her father and she’s never going to know him and that’s always going to be something missing from her life. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to fix that!” She paused to take a breath, leaning back in her seat. Her therapist didn’t say anything, just waited for her to keep going. 

“And that’s another thing, with Dustin, am I moving too fast with introducing him to her? He’s set her up a room in his house and he’s so amazing and I can feel myself falling for him every time I see him and God if he’s the one I end up spending the rest of my life with I’ll be so amazingly happy you might be out a patient, but what if things don’t work out? What if he comes to his damn senses and realizes he could have his pick of anyone in the damn world and that a single mom that works too much is not the best he can do? And Julia’s gotten used to having him around and then he isn’t either. He said he wouldn’t do something like that and I believe him, but if we break up and it’s nasty, what else is gonna happen? She already loves him, every time we spend the night over his place she’s over the moon and I can’t blame her, because so am I. But you know what she said the other day? That it feels like a family there. And God it warmed my heart for a second because she’s right. Dustin feels like home. But then I got terrified, because it’s only been a month. We don’t know what’s going to happen. If she’s used to Dustin being around and he and I being together and getting to spend time with him and then we don’t end up working out that’s a whole new person that Julia’s going to have cared for that will just be out of her life.  And that’s the kinda thing that gives a kid abandonment issues! And that’s all on me. I’m supposed to protect her from that.”

“And then work has me so strung out that it’s inevitable I’m going to mess something up and if I do I’m entirely fucked and if I don’t I’m probably fucked too because there’s a reason there aren’t a lot of single parent music producers out there, it’s such a time consuming job, especially if they don’t want me to have a team yet, that means everything would be on me.  And I already don’t spend enough time with Julia, or with my siblings, or my friends, and I definitely don’t spend enough time with Dustin and I just always feel like I’m running out of time and even when I force myself to relax and enjoy something there’s always a voice in the back of my mind telling me there’s something I’ve got to do and I’m forgetting it and it’s going to be a nightmare when I remember and I’m not suited for any of this and I don’t know how to deal because I’m so terrified I’m going to ruin it all because that’s what I do! I’m going to work too much and then Dustin is going to leave me because who wants to date somebody they absolutely never see and then Julia is going to hate me because her father left her and her mother didn’t even care enough to stop working for long enough to be around her, and Rhys and Soph are gonna be sick of me, they liked it better when I wasn’t around and the worst part is I know this isn’t likely.  The idea that everyone I care about is just slowly getting tired of dealing with me isn’t one that I should be worrying about because we’re goddamn adults and if they didn’t really want to be around me they wouldn’t be but that doesn’t mean I’m not still worried about it!” Macy wasn’t sure when she’d started crying. Wondered how much of that had been understandable, 

“Things don’t go this good for long. Not for me. I just keep hearing this nagging voice that I shouldn’t get used to being this happy and it’s wearing me down to nothing.”  Her therapist nodded, she still hadn’t said a word since Macy had entered the room. It took her a few moments to respond and dole out some much needed advice, but Macy had already felt better getting everything out in one sitting, she was still exhausted, but letting it all explode had relieved some of the tension. Maybe she could try for a nap while Sophia still had Julia from daycare. 

[snarkyperson]

won’t it be dull when we rid ourselves of all these demons haunting us

I have so much to say and at the same time I have nothing to say.  Either way, I think I need to start writing again so here I am.

Despite being very open about my struggles with mental health, I have been very silent on this issue for the past month, when I have more to talk about than ever.  I have a lot of reasons why.  I’m afraid of my coworkers figuring out why I’m on leave - yes, i’m on leave from work, until June 20 - even though God forbid one of them might stumble on this and then everything will be revealed.  I am embarrassed, deeply embarrassed.  Part of me feels like I am faking it but it is too awful to not be real.  I’m tired of worrying everyone.  My friends, my family, my doctors, my cats.  I am everyone’s focus in the most horrible way.  You want your mom to smile and laugh with you and text you to say she’s working in her garden and Roxy did the cutest thing, not text you because it’s 2:00 and she hasn’t heard from you yet so you might be dead, but you’re actually sleeping because that’s all you do these days.  

I’m not making sense.  Let me try again.

Around the last two weeks in March, my mental health just shattered.  It started out with just depressive thoughts, but I’ve had those so long that I didn’t really give much thought to it.  It was hard to get out of bed but I still made it to work so I figured I would be okay.  But I didn’t get better; I got worse.  I spiraled.  Before I knew it I was sitting behind my screens at work crying silently and wishing more than anything that I would die.  The suicidal thoughts became all I knew.  I was suicidal 95% of the time.  I made plans.  I started enacting those plans, then I would think about my mom or my roommate or my best friend and I would stop again.  I kept calling my therapist begging her to help me.  She was convinced that the Prozac I had started taking in February was giving me these suicidal thoughts.  She told me to see my psychiatrist and we would make a plan.

My psychiatrist and I have not had the best relationship.  I often call him “my jackass head doctor” because that’s what he has been.  But that is different now, because I showed him I have a spine.  I went to his office, sat down, and said, “I need you to listen to me.  I need to know you are hearing me when I tell you how serious this is.”  He listened.  He took me off the Prozac.  He started scheduling weekly sessions with me to keep an eye on me.  In the meantime I would talk to my therapist once or twice a week.  Two weeks ago he started me on Trintellix, another antidepressant that, god willing, will work.  

I thought I needed to go to a hospital.  My therapist thought I needed to go to a hospital.  I tried to do research about different inpatient programs but I kept getting run around in circles when I called to ask my questions and ultimately found out that my top three choices required admittance through the ER first.  It didn’t seem like any of them would just take a person who walked in off the street and said, “You know what?  I’m not safe and I need some time away.”  For some reason the ER step really freaked me out so I never went.  I don’t know if I need it now.  It might help, but maybe I’m moving past it.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Tucker Pavilion offers a partial hospitalization program that is basically group therapy from 9:00 to 3:00 Monday-Friday with added psychiatrist appointments to manage medication.  I made an intake appointment and the morning of, I had a panic attack so bad that I wanted to die (again, hahaha), so I didn’t go.  My mom was so disappointed.  She told me to reschedule and she would go with me, for support she said, but I knew it was just to make sure I actually went through with it that time.  I went.  I spoke to a very mild, very nice man and told him all about my suicidal thoughts and my inability to work and my desperate desire for it all to end and he told me I would be an excellent candidate for the program and I could start the next day.  Hooray!  My cure was on its way!  I was going to be all right!

I went.  The first hour was paperwork and vitals with the four other new recruits, two of whom talked to me more than I was comfortable with and one who was so upset and anxious that she was rocking back and forth and pulling on her hair between papers.  Then we were sent in the room, where the session was already in progress.  That’s not awkward at all.  

And that’s where it all started to fall apart.  They talked about “wise mind.”  They gave us a list of 101 affirmations they wanted us to work on.  The nurse told me my goal was to exercise four times a week and improve my diet.  There was so much talk about the future and what we had to do to get there and all I could think was, “There is no possible way I can ever do this.  No one as broken as me can do this.  Why am I here?  I just need to kill myself now because I will never be able to say 101 affirmations and actually believe them.”  Lunch was from 12:00 - 1:00.  I went home at 12:00, took eight Benadryl, and slept for six hours.  Then I called my therapist and had a huge meltdown with her.  Then I called my mom and had an even bigger meltdown with her.  I was on the phone with her for almost two hours.  That’s how long it took me to calm down enough that I didn’t think I would immediately down the entire bottle of Benadryl and call it there.  

That was when my therapist and I started seriously talking about inpatient treatment.  I’ve already explained how that went and I’m not in the hospital yet, so hey.

That was nine days ago.  Since then, the antidepressant has started, like a very weak flame, to work.  And by work I mean I’m not in constant danger of killing myself and that I had one really good day (if I’m honest, it felt like a manic day so I’m not sure that’s much better) this weekend.  I was supposed to go back to work next week but my doctor and I agreed it’s impossible so we extended my leave the full 12 weeks.  I go back just in time for my birthday.

So what now?  I’m not doing inpatient, so what are my other options?  How can I get better?  I ask myself this every day.  I’ve been exploring another partial hospitalization program at a different hospital that maybe is different than the big group therapy one.  I’m thinking of trying the group therapy one.  I’m going to talk to my psychiatrist about upping the dosage of my meds.  

I’m starting to get scared of mania.  The more I think about it, the more Saturday feels like a manic day, not a good day.  I kept saying, “I feel like I just woke up.”  And I did.  Suddenly the world felt full of promise.  I was going to blow that exercise goal out of the water.  Fuck four times a day, I will go EVERY day.  The new medication totally erased my appetite so the weight will just fall off!  I was going to go back to work early and astonish everyone with how healthy and normal I was.  I was going to stop worrying everyone I know.  I would stop seeing that haunted look in my mom’s eyes and instead I would see her smile and know I was going to be okay and I would, I would be okay and everything would be okay again.  

My mom kept rubbing my shoulder and telling me how “glad she was that I was here.”  Do you know how heartbreaking it is to hear your mom say that, over and over, because she honestly didn’t think you would make it until Easter?  I would never wish knowing that you caused that much pain to someone you love so much on my worst enemy.  But the problem is, I can’t shield her from this.  I can’t tell her everything is fine.  One, because I am a shit liar and she would see through me in about 2 seconds.  Second, I need her.  She is the pillar of my support system and as much as it kills me, so so much, to do it to her, I need her to get me through this.  When I think really seriously about dying, she is the first face I see.  She has told me over and over that she couldn’t take it if I was gone.  Everyone else would probably get over it, but not my mom.  She never, ever would.  

I mentioned being embarrassed.  I am.  Very.  For all the obvious reasons and for reasons I’ve already mentioned, but for one more big reason.  Everyone keeps asking, how did this all start?  Wasn’t there a trigger?  And I finally figured out, the trigger was Boris dying.  I knew I would never be prepared, but I wasn’t prepared for a complete mental shutdown when the grief really hit.  And wow, isn’t that some shit.  Even though I KNOW Boris was not just a pet to me, never, EVER just a pet, my brain keeps going, “oh my god you had a breakdown over a cat?  What is WRONG with you?”  

So here we are.  I have spilled all the secrets I’ve been keeping since mid-March.  Now you know why I’ve been silent.  Do I feel better?  Not really.  But at least in the future, when I’m better (look at that positive affirmation, mom!  Aren’t you proud?), I will have a record of what happened during the Great Shutdown of 2019.  

[mikeyd1986]

MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 131, November 2018

On Monday night, I attended a Yin yoga class with Aaron Petty at Level Up Yoga in Berwick. Tonight was a last class before Aaron heads off on his trip to Bali for 3 weeks to do an intensive training course. It was a 30 degree hot humid day outside but I really didn’t want to miss this class as I’ve been putting off my yoga practice again recently. It was unusually packed in the studio but being Aaron’s last class a few weeks, I should have suspected that. Thank goodness that the air-con and ceiling fans were turned up or else I would have been sweating heaps.

Aaron guided up through a series of yin style poses including caterpillar, toe squat, straitjacket pose and leg extensions with strap. I found these all to be particularly challenging with my pain and discomfort threshold being tested as well as my annoying anxious mind on rapid fire (Am I doing this right? Oh shit, my strap’s twisted. God this hurts so much! My legs look like a mangled mess). But I did my best to not get caught up in those thoughts and just focus on breathing and releasing. https://www.yinyoga.com/ys2_2.0_asanas_toe_squat.php

I also tend to get myself emotional during Yin classes mostly because there’s a microscopic focus on me and that can be quite confronting at times. Loving yourself is one of the most difficult things to do but also one of the most important things. Hence why I often find it so hard. It helps to connect with positive affirmations like “I deserve to be here practicing yoga. I am worthy. I do belong in this yoga community. I am not alone. I am accepted and welcome.” http://www.annieauyoga.com/library/2018/6/13/your-emotional-self-care-guide-in-yin-yoga

Saying goodbye to Aaron is still something I find painfully awkward to do. And it’s not just him either. It’s the internal pressure of knowing exactly what to say and when to hit the exit. But I made it short, sweet and simple. “Have fun in Bali.” Was there anything more to say? Not really. I’m not the type to ramble on about what’s going on in my life because that’s not how I roll. Still it was nice to see him showing that he cares and I’m excited for his trip away though I can’t pretend that I won’t be missing him. Namaste. https://www.aaronpetty.com/

On Thursday morning, I went down to Centrelink Cranbourne office to apply for the Disability Support Pension. This has been a long term goal for me this year and it’s taken me a few months to be prepared for it. There were quite a few obstacles in my way and several people who advised against applying for it but I stuck to my guns, making sure that I filled out all the forms correctly and gathered enough medical evidence, pay slips, bank statements, and letters to even bother trying for it. https://www.humanservices.gov.au/individuals/services/centrelink/disability-support-pension/eligibility/how-we-assess-your-disability-or-condition

When it comes to the Centrelink system, I feel like there are harsh, unfair and unrealistic expectations placed on individuals who actually need their services and benefits. You have to jump through so many different hoops and meet often ridiculous eligibility criteria just to even be considered hence why I wasn’t exactly in a rush to get this done right away. Still I have legitimate diagnoses of depression, anxiety and high functioning autism so it’s not like cheating the system or doing it to get on A Current Affair. https://www.humanservices.gov.au/individuals/services/centrelink/disability-support-pension/eligibility

So, in a way, I am doing this to prove the naysayers wrong and make big decisions on my own. But more importantly, I need the DSP in order to supplement my income which I continue to struggle with week to week. Of course people could argue that I should just get another job or increase my hours at my current job but sadly it’s just not that simple and it’s not like I haven’t tried those avenues either. It won’t be an easy road but I’m prepared to tackle and push through any bumps I need to get through. https://www.humanservices.gov.au/individuals/services/centrelink/disability-support-pension/claiming/claiming-form

Walking into the Centrelink office, I was already feeling quite nervous. No amount of green decor was going to settle my nerves. This was a pretty big deal for me, months of preparation and I didn’t want to fuck it up. I decided to bring my Mum along just in case I did crumble to dust. The best way to deal with this level of anxiety is to throw humour at it and what better way than to think about Centrelink memes. I waited around 30-40 minutes or so and then my name was called up.

A lady named Emma served me, who was physically disabled herself and appeared to have dwarfism. Thankfully she was really nice and just asked me for all the required forms and supporting documentation for the claim. I don’t think I could have been more organised, though she was giving the photocopier a good workout with all the paper she had to make copies of. I asked her “How long do you expect it will take to get a decision?” She said 6-8 weeks which I expected but now that it’s done, I feel a huge sense of relief now.

On Thursday afternoon, I booked my first appointment to see an Occupational Therapist from Everyday Independence in about two weeks time. Last week at the Disability Expo, I only had a vague concept of what an Occupational Therapist actually does and still don’t really know for sure. But I figured I would give them a shot and considering I have NDIS funding, I don’t have much to lose over it. I mostly want to focus on improving my self confidence, social skills, making friends and at some point, living independently. Hopefully the OT can help me achieve some or all of those goals. https://www.everydayind.com.au/our-therapies/occupational-therapy/

On Thursday night, I had my final Sleep Intervention Workshop held at La Trobe University Psychology Clinic in Bundoora. Prior to arriving, I received my actiwatch in the mail via express post which I’ll have to wear again for another week. This will basically be comparing the results from the first period and see if there’s been any improvement with my sleep. I engaged in my usual Maccas run though time wasn’t playing nice today. I literally had to scoff my food and coffee down (That’s NOT being mindful...oops!).

Tonight’s session was run by Eric and Alexa with Associate Professor Amanda “Mandy” Richdale joining in. Alexa guided us through a short mindfulness exercise which involved using the five senses: touch, smell, hearing, taste and sight, using a raisin. Next, they attempted to tie all the concepts and techniques that we’ve learned together as well as discuss the importance of having values to focus on. Basically trying to work on living a fulfilling life can in turn help to improve your sleep. Some of my important values include: accepting myself, loving others, creativity, imagination, embracing the moment and seeing possibilities.

We also did some short term goal setting which is perfect considering we are getting close to the end of 2018. I wrote down: catching up with friends and family, going out for dinner or drinks, losing weight and improving my fitness levels, going for regular walks, attending art exhibitions and galleries, producing artwork again and getting back into study. It was a good exercise as I usually don’t do it often enough as my mind gets caught up in other commitments and responsibilities. https://www.latrobe.edu.au/otarc

The last part of the session involved creating a plan for the next 6 weeks to make sure that we’re prepared when insomnia comes back. It breaks everything down into sizable chunks week by week and details many of the techniques that we’ve learned about during these workshops such as mindfulness and defusion of thoughts, feelings and emotions, building a new sleep routine and practicing acceptance. Eric then gave us each a $25 gift card for our participation in the study. https://aspergersvic.org.au/Research-Requests

Reflecting back on the last few weeks, it’s good to know that this is the first research study I have fully committed myself to. I didn’t let the physical distance, lack of motivation, low mood and energy levels stop me from finishing it off because I do believe that improving my sleep is something worthwhile to invest time into. It’s been a problem for me for at least 2 or 3 years now and that’s significant as it affects my daily functioning and ability to enjoy life. So hopefully it’ll have some long lasting benefits for me. https://www.apa.org/topics/sleep/why.aspx

On Friday morning, I started doing my Christmas shopping at Cranbourne Park Shopping Centre and Westfield Fountain Gate! Trust me to forget that it happened to be BLACK FRIDAY today so of course getting a parking spot was painful as hell. Also it’s this time of the year when my anxiety levels tend to increase more readily especially when it comes to impatient shoppers and drivers. The rainy weather outside certainly wasn’t helping matters either. It didn’t take long before I was getting stalked in the carpark.  

IT’S THE MOST STRESSFUL (WONDERFUL) TIME OF THE YEAR! I briefly met up with Mum and my hairdresser Katrina, dropping into shops like Kmart, Target, Dusk and some $2 variety stores before I knew that I was ready to collapse with my shopping bags. I’m also learning that it’s okay to break things up, that I don’t necessarily have to do all my Christmas shopping in one hit. I put limits on myself for how much I’m able to handle and it’s a good thing because the last thing I want to do is burn myself out before Christmas Day.

On Friday night, I went to my HIIT Boxing class with Cinamon Guerin at CinFull Fitness. Boxing is both physically and mentally challenging. It takes a lot of effort, focus, concentration and practice to learn all the movements, techniques and combos. I’m fortunate that this group of clients is endlessly patient with me because I do worry that I’ll drop the ball at times. Anxiety is an unwelcome heckler trying hard to get me to give up and I’m able to shove it further and further into the background now.

Even though these small group training sessions are tough, it always feels good to finish them. My fitness level is irrelevant. To me, it’s more about what I can do rather than keeping up with the others. It’s a shift that’s taken me months to learn and remember. As a few people have told me, your only competition is yourself. Push ups are still one of the hardest exercises for me and yet I was smashing them out tonight at my own pace. It can only get better and easier over time.

On Saturday morning, I voted for Gary Maas - Labor for NWS at Strathaird Primary School. Generally speaking, I usually vote for the Australian Labor Party as most of my values align with their policies. Workers rights, public transport, infrastructure, education, mental health issues and autism are the big issues for me this State Election and Gary Maas ticks all of those boxes. https://www.viclabor.com.au/mp/maas-gary/

I’ve noticed that the Liberal candidate, Susan Serey, has had her face plastered on signs and flyers all around the Narre Warren South area. I guess their logic is that using dominant visual exposure will help secure more votes but to me, this screams of desperation. I haven’t seen her put many proposals forward for this election so I’m far from convinced that I should be voting for her. https://vic.liberal.org.au/SusanSerey

When it comes to Matthew Guy, he seems like a typical Liberal politician. All talk and all business. Coming off like a shady used car salesman with his “plan” to get Victoria back in control. Just like Scott Morrison, he’s just not very likable to me. https://www.matthewguy.com.au/

Daniel Andrews has done a lot of hard work for this state especially in the areas of workers rights, public transport and infrastructure. He has begun work on the Melbourne Metro and West Gate tunnels, removed many level-crossings on various train lines and upgraded several train stations, invested in free TAFE courses, building more schools and TAFE campuses, recruited more police officers, increased employment rate and job vacancies. http://www.cesarmelhem.com.au/andrews-labor-government-economic-achievements/

He is far from perfect but his achievements far outweigh his flaws in my opinion. Plus he has many great optimistic plans for the future if he ends up being re-elected. https://thenewdaily.com.au/news/state/vic/2018/11/20/victorian-election-policy-comparison-daniel-andrews-matthew-guy/

On Saturday night, I attended my work Christmas party held in the Common Room at Berwick Inn. When it comes to most social functions, my first instinct is to run for the hills and this potentially could have been the case tonight. I guess I wasn’t anticipating the huge turnout and therefore how much the space was creating bottlenecks and human traffic congestion. It’s moments like those where I literally need my own space to breathe.

However it was really lovely to see many team members tonight, both who I currently work with and a handful who have transferred stores, resigned or retired. Still being an introvert and autistic, social situations will always be challenging for me. Not knowing what to do, who to talk to, what to talk about but I generally gravitate towards people I feel comfortable around. There also becomes a point where I get easily bored and restless.

I decided to wear a black Christmas themed sweater with colourful Santas, bells, trees and snowflakes on it as well as a classic red Santa hat. It’s probably the one stereotypical trait that I don’t tick as an introverted person: putting myself out there with my outfit. Possibly because I want to make an impression and get people’s attention in a good way. I left shortly after the Visions & Values awards were announced as energetically I was spent and needed to rest. But I’m glad I made the effort to come out even for a short while.

“S-P-I-R-I-T, it's great to see. We got it, the spirit. Hey, hey, let's hear it. Said we couldn't go the distance, yeah. Look at us, we're going the distance. They just wanna be us. They don't wanna see us.” Mariah Carey featuring Ty Dolla $ign - The Distance (2018)

“It wasn't really much at all, just a little sensitivity, yeah that's all. Here in my heart is where you should be, ooh you are. Giving me life and it's everything. Thinkin' 'bout when we were seventeen. Living like Babs 'cause it's Evergreen. Here in my arms is where you should be.” Mariah Carey featuring Slick Rick & Blood Orange - Giving Me Life (2018)