#Professional writing services near me

[aimlayblogs]

Choosing the Best Professional Writing Services for Students 

As a student, academic writing can be challenging, especially when you have multiple assignments to complete within a short time. Fortunately, there are professional writing services that can help you with your papers. However, with so many providers in the market, choosing the best one can be overwhelming. In this guide, I will take you through the factors to consider when choosing professional writing services, how to identify legitimate providers, and the benefits of using these services.

What are professional writing services?

Professional writing services are companies that offer academic writing assistance to students, professionals, and businesses. These services provide help with various types of papers, including essays, research papers, dissertations, and thesis. Professional writing services employ writers who are experts in different fields, and they can deliver quality papers within a short time.

Benefits of using professional writing services

Using professional writing services comes with many benefits. First, it saves you time. Instead of spending hours researching and writing your paper, you can hire a professional writer to do it for you. This gives you more time to focus on other important tasks such as studying for exams or attending to personal matters. Second, professional writing services help you to improve your grades. Since the writers are experts in their fields, they can deliver quality papers that meet your professor's requirements. This means that you can get higher grades and improve your academic performance.

Another benefit of using professional writing services is that they offer customized papers. Professional writers can tailor your paper to meet your specific needs, including formatting, citation style, and word count. This ensures that you get a paper that meets your requirements and is unique. Additionally, professional writing services offer unlimited revisions, which means that you can request changes to your paper until you are satisfied with the final product.

Types of professional writing services

There are different types of professional writing services, including academic writing, business writing, and creative writing. Academic writing services specialize in helping students with their academic papers. They can help you with essays, research papers, term papers, and dissertations. Business writing services, on the other hand, focus on helping businesses with their writing needs. These services can help with business plans, proposals, and marketing materials. Finally, creative writing services help writers to develop their creative skills. These services can help with story writing, poetry, and screenwriting.

Factors to consider when choosing professional writing services

Choosing the right professional writing service can be a daunting task. However, there are several factors that you should consider to ensure that you get the best provider. First, you should consider the reputation of the provider. Look for providers with a good reputation for delivering quality papers within the agreed time frame. You can check reviews and testimonials from other clients to gauge the provider's reputation.

Second, consider the experience and qualifications of the writers. Look for providers who have experienced and qualified writers in your field of study. This ensures that you get a quality paper that meets your professor's requirements. Source Url: Professional Writing Services

[jjsolutionexpert]

sop writers

SOP Writing services

SOP Writing services are provided by JJ SOLUTION EXPERT SOP Writers to students looking for full-time, part-time, graduate, and post-graduate programmes in the USA, UK, Australia, Canada, Europe, Asia, and India. .

We have competent SOP writers to help you realise your priceless ambition of going overseas to study. We provide affordable and of the highest standard SOP writing services. The careful selection of the content in accordance with academic standards increases the likelihood that you will be admitted to your desired university.

Admission Writing Services:

(Undergraduates/Post Graduates/Researcher/Ph.D)

Statement of Purpose (SOP)

Letter of Recommendation/Letter of references(LOR)

Admission Essays

IIM ESSAYS/IIM SOP/B-SCHOOL MBA SOP

Scholarship Essays

College Transfer Essays

Entrance Essays

Common Application Essay

Visa motivation letter

Visa SOP for CANADA/Visa SOP for Australia/Visa SOP for Europe

Visa Refusal SOP for CANADA //Visa refusal SOP for Australia/Visa refusal SOP for Europe

[springforwardresumes01]

Best Professional Resume Writing Services in Boston, MA - Spring Forward Resumes

Spring Forward Resumes writer's Best Professional Resume Writing Services in Boston, MA, will take you on an unforgettable voyage! We provide a transforming journey for people looking to advance their professions, and we're known for our talent at creating resumes that go above and beyond expectations. With our great insights into Boston's competitive employment scene, our seasoned specialists carefully construct resumes that highlight your unique skillset, experiences, and successes. Whether you want to break into a new industry, move up the corporate ladder, or land your dream job, our skilled professionals are here to help. We collaborate with you to ensure that your resume develops into an effective instrument in your job search toolbox, showing our constant commitment to accuracy. Join our writers' efforts to

[cvexperts]

Why Professional CV Writing Services Are Useful For A Competetive Career?

Building a career in a field you enjoy is one of the most rewarding experiences. You probably know that your CV is your passport to success, whether you are a recent graduate or an employee looking for a new opportunity. It is the first point of contact for a recruiter with you and your experience. Because recruiters only spend about seven seconds looking at a CV, it must be visually appealing. It must be created in a way that is relevant to the job you are applying for. As an experienced employee, you have probably had a variety of jobs, but not all of them are relevant to the position you are applying for. Some people are more concerned about how important their CV is. If you are looking for the best CV Writing Service near Me in NZ, then Our Professional CV writing services, named CV Experts in Auckland, can assist you in creating an attractive CV, and working with such a service has numerous advantages.

[cv-writers]

If you are looking for a professional CV Writing Service near Me in Auckland, then you have a good reason to do so. Curriculum Vitae (CV) is a Latin term that means "Course Of Life," as this paper covers various aspects of life. It is a comprehensive document that details educational qualifications, professional experiences, and future objectives. CVs provide an opportunity for job applicants to highlight their skills as well as work experience, accomplishments, scholarships, and research work.

[best-resume-writing-services]

Best Resume Writing Services in United States

[icangetclients]

Top 10 Effective Ways To Market Your HVAC Business

[cv-stylist00]

How long should a cover letter be?

When it comes to job applications, your CV is usually the star of the show. But what about your cover letter? How long should it be, and what should you include in it? In this blog post, we'll give you some tips on how to write a cover letter that will make an impact. 

When it comes to writing a cover letter, there is no one-size-fits-all answer. The length of your cover letter will depend on your level of experience and the specific job you are applying for.

If you are a recent graduate or have little work experience, a shorter cover letter of one or two paragraphs is usually sufficient. However, if you have several years of experience or are applying for a senior-level position, a longer letter of three or four paragraphs may be more appropriate.

If you're not sure how to get started, there are plenty of cv writing services and cover letter writing services that can help you craft an effective letter. And, of course, if you're applying for jobs in India, there are also resume writing services in India that can assist you

Concise.

A cover letter should be concise. When deciding how long your cover letter should be, the most important thing to keep in mind is to make sure that it is concise and to the point. There is no need to include superfluous information or repeat what is already stated in your resume. Simply state your qualifications and explain why you are the best candidate for the job.

length.

The length is also important for a cover letter. If you are unsure about the length of your cover letter, err on the side of caution and keep it shorter rather than too long. Then you can hire a CV writing service. After all, you want the hiring manager to read your letter and be impressed by your qualifications, not put it down after the first paragraph.

Impression.

No matter what route you decide to go, the important thing is to make sure your cover letter is well-written and tailored to the specific job you're applying for. With a little effort, you can make a strong first impression that will help you get your foot in the door.

    Contact details.

   At the upper part of your cover letter, put your contact information.

Full name

Permanent address 

Phone no.

Email address

Paragraphs.

A cover letter should be around three paragraphs. It should begin with a brief introduction, followed by a detailed explanation of your qualifications and experience. Finally, you should conclude with a brief statement of interest in the position.

First paragraph. 

The first paragraph should address the company and position you are applying for, and why you are a good fit, and introduce yourself & explain why you are writing.

Second paragraph.

The second paragraph should highlight a few key points from your professional background that make you a good fit for the position

Third paragraph.

The third paragraph should express your interest in the company and explain why you would be a good fit for the role & highlight your skills and experience that match the job requirements

If you're not sure how to get started, or you're struggling to keep your cover letter to a manageable length, consider using a professional CV writing service. They can help you to structure your letter and ensure that it hits all the key points that an employer will be looking for.

Formatting.

The formatting of your cover letter is just as important as the content. Here are a few tips on how to format your cover letter so that it makes the right impression.

1. Start with your contact information.

Make sure to add your full name, permanent address, phone number, and email address. You want the employer to be able to reach you easily.

2. Include the date.

The date is important so that the employer knows how recent your letter is.

3. Use white space.

Make sure there is a lot of white whitespace on the page. This will make it trouble-free for the recruiter to read.

In the main body of the letter, focus on two or three key qualifications that make you the ideal candidate for the job. Be sure to back up each claim with specific examples. Paragraphs are a very important part of your cover letter, if you are unable to write it in a professional way then you should hire a professional CV maker.

Finally, close your letter with a call to action, such as requesting an interview or asking for a chance to meet in person.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Please write tennisplayer!reader x Oscar. Him coming to a match of hers for the first time, and her explaining stuff to him (just started to get into tennis myself). Them having a good time and just vibing at the tennis open.

Oscar had never gone too deep into tennis before, his knowledge of tennis extended to recognizing names like Serena Williams and Roger Federer. However, when he started dating you, a professional tennis player, his interest in the sport naturally grew. 

He couldn’t hide his excitement and confusion as the two of you walked through the green scenery of All England Club. In between your practice and media you took your boyfriend on a little tour to explain a few things. 

“Okay, let's start with the basics. No! Wait, we will get the strawberries first” Oscar chuckled at your sudden change of plans but went with it. 

As you led him to the food stands, you began explaining the traditions of the tournament, “So, one of the best things about Wimbledon is the strawberries and cream. It’s a must have”. You grabbed a box each and continued your walk. “Okay, now we can continue. Where was I?” you said in between chewing. 

You found a quiet area near the practice court. “See those lines? The outer ones are for doubles and inner ones are for singles”. You pointed with your finger. “Got it. And those?” Oscar asked as he gestured towards the perpendicular ones. “That’s the service box, basically when you serve, the ball has to land there. You have two tries and if you fail it’s called a double fault and your opponent gets a point”. 

“Uh Huh, but the points are weird, aren’t they? I don’t get them.” he said with scrunched nose which made you giggle. “Yeah, it’s a bit odd. We start with love, which means zero. Then it goes fifteen, thirty, forty. If both players reach forty, it’s called deuce. From deuce, you need to win by two points. So that’s how you win a game and you need six and be up by two to win a set. If it's six-six, we play a tiebreak”. 

He nodded trying to organize the information in his mind, “a tiebreak?”. “Yea, we alternate serves and the first to seven, and again up by two, wins” you explained. “Got it. And how many sets do you need?”. “Well, at Wimbledon it’s best of three for women and best of five for men. So I need to win two sets to win a match”. 

“Alright, that makes sense, I guess… I don’t know if I can remember all that” Oscar said. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re gonna figure it out as you watch. I’m glad you’re interested. It means a lot to have you here” you hugged his arm as you two walked.

The next day Oscar dressed up nicely and sat next to your team. It was his time to be your wag. He watched you take your headphones out as you entered the court. Your expression was cold, focused and determined, a stark contrast to how he knew you. He couldn’t help but to smile with pride. 

The match began, and Oscar’s eyes were glued to the court, more specifically to your side of it. He found the speed at which the serves and rallies happened surprisingly fast. He admired the way you hit the ball with full power, while still keeping it full of grace and precision. Anytime you looked at him he would flash you a big smile and thumbs up.

He found himself not caring about others while cheering louder than anyone else at every point you scored. During the game he had in mind everything you explained to him the previous day. As the match passed he understood the sport more and more, and didn’t hesitate to ask your coach when he got confused. 

The match ended with your victory, something that could be easily predicted as it was one of the first games of the tournament. “You were amazing! So fast! I’m into tennis now. You need to teach me” you heard as you approached him after the game. “Thanks Oscar, means a lot. I’m glad you like it because I hope you will be watching me here for the next two weeks” you said as he hugged your sweaty body without hesitation.

July 22, 2024

[etherealyoungk]

third time's a charm - kim mingyu

summary: you and mingyu are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts for wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but life's not always fair and you and mingyu end up having to work together. a little bit of angst, spice, fluff, and mutual pining turns into a cute one-shot.

pairing: chef!mingyu x chef!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers kinda, fluff, angst, kissing, suggestive and suggestive language, implied smut, mentions of alcohol, use of curse words, and mingyu being an annoying ass but <3 he's so fine

word count: 6.5k // lowercase intended

a/n: a repost of my chef mingyu series as a one-shot. i had so much fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading it.

chef!mingyu and you are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but then one day you both get hired for a private event because the person who was getting married likes both of your food and couldn't choose. they asked if you both could maybe collaborate and work. you would have said no but the money was too good to lose out on. so here you are bickering with mingyu as you sit late at night in his restaurant trying to decide the menu for the wedding event. he'll just be so fucking cocky with a stupid smirk plastered on his face because he's just that confident about his skills and cooking and you both just can't seem to agree on anything.

"you're so annoying god, how am i supposed to work with you", you mumble. "come on baby, let's both put aside our differences and work like professionals hm", mingyu says.

"i swear if you stress me out i will kill you", you say. "ah don't worry, besides i know some ways we can destress", he says giving you a wink and making you almost choke on the water you were sipping on.

you both have to taste test the menu first before finalizing it so you head to Mingyu’s restaurant the next day and it’s just you two alone in the kitchen as you cook the dishes, mingyu is in charge of starters and mains while you were in charge of the two desserts. mingyu will not shy away from taunting you and just trying to flirt and mess with you because he's a jerk like that but fuck he looked so hot when he was in his element cooking. he tastes your dishes and will be surprised at how good it is. "it's pretty good", he admits. "duh what did you think", you reply annoyed. "thought it would taste like shit", he says and you smack his arm. "i told you not to get on my nerves", you warn and he just chuckles saying sorry as he licks the plate clean.

then on the day of the event somehow you ended up with missing ingredients so you had to make do with what you had, having a full panic attack as you try to stay calm and finish cooking in the time given. mingyu surprisingly wouldn't be a jerk that day and would come to help you re-plan your menu and dishes and once his service was over, he'd come and help you plate the desserts. finally done with the hectic day, you both head home and you end up crashing in mingyu's place because you had a little too much to drink. you would wake up wondering where the hell you were in the morning until you see a shirtless mingyu in front of you and the smell of something sweet in the air.

"are you awake baby? i didn't know if you liked pancakes or french toast so i made both", he says with a smile. you can't seem to remember anything from the night before but seeing mingyu shirtless and you in one of mingyu's shirts in his bed makes you start thinking things.

"did we...sleep together?", you ask and he just smirks. "why baby don't you remember?", he teases, putting the plate down on the table. "n-no", you mumble. "if you're teasing me i swear i will kill you", you say giving him a death stare. "i mean you were pretty much all over me last night", he says and your jaw drops. "liar". he shakes his head. "i had to lock the guest room and sleep because i was so scared", he adds and you roll your eyes. "but if you do want to sleep together, i'd be more than happy to oblige", he says with wink as he grins, leaning forward making your breath hitch. god, he was so annoying.

after you woke up in mingyu's bed that day you're just not able to stop thinking about him and it just annoys you even more because his stupid smirk is engraved in your mind. "if you want to sleep with me, i'd be happy to oblige?" that fucker. you mumble to yourself and head to the restaurant that day and try to tune out mingyu. but then just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse, it does. your ex-partner decided to give you a visit because they were 'missing you' and you're just even more ticked off because of the way they're pitying you and thinking your life sucks because they’re not with you anymore. the way they’d be just boasting about their life now and just thinking you didn't move on was infuriating.

"so did you move on from me? i know you loved me so the breakup must have hit you hard", they say, making you absolutely seeth with anger. who the hell did they think they were? just then you spot mingyu from the corner of your eye. you had forgotten you had asked him to come over because you had forgotten your wallet at his place and he offered to come to drop it off back to you that evening.

so you put on your fakest smile and do something stupid but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"baby, you're finally here!", you say loudly, walking over to mingyu as he comes up to you both. you latch your arm around mingyu's, leaning your head on his arm. "i was waiting for you", you add looking at mingyu as you bat your eyelashes at him. mingyu would just be so confused and literally, just be like wtf as he looks at you. you give him a small nudge with your elbow, as you side-eye your ex hoping he'll get the message and play along. and thankfully he does. he smiles, and his arm goes around your waist, pulling you closer than you already were. "were you waiting long? the traffic was horrible", he says. your ex just watches all this unfold. "oh, you should meet my boyfriend", you say as you look at your ex. they just gives you both a stiff smile. "we should head home soon hm, i have something special planned", mingyu adds, leaning in to kiss your cheek, catching you off guard. you ex excuses himself and finally heads off. you watch as he leaves, rolling your eyes.

"that asshole", you mutter. "who do they think there are huh, can't believe i actually dated a piece of shit like them", you add, clearly frustrated. a few more profanities leave your lips while mingyu just looks at you, amused at the situation he's been caught in. you don't even realize that you're still holding mingyu's hand until you feel him squeeze your hand ever so slightly. so you look down and look back up at him before letting go of his hand. not going to lie, he would be a bit :\ because of how fast you let go of his hand but he won't say anything.

"so i'm your boyfriend now hm", he says with that stupid smile as he raises an eyebrow. "noo", you defend and he'll pout. "kidding, anyways who was that guy?", he prompts. "my ex, that little shit", you say and mingyu can tell you're extremely annoyed. "here's your wallet", he says as he hands it to you, fetching it from his pocket. "thank you", you say, really grateful this time, because as annoying as he was, he was still a nice guy.

mingyu would offer to drive you home and you agree because it was raining and you didn't really have any other means of transportation so late at night. "i could really use a drink or two", you say as mingyu drives. so that's how you end up in a bar nearby, having a heart-to-heart conversation with mingyu - your rival in business and the guy to who you refused to believe you were attracted. and once again, you find yourself waking up in an unfamiliar bed, only to realize it's mingyu's bed...again. "fuck", you mutter as you try to get out of bed, but mingyu enters - shirtless of course.

"awake baby? i think i'm having deja-vu", he says, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you. "i'm sorry...you could have just dropped me home", you add. "but you basically passed out on the couch, how the hell was i supposed to drop you off home in that state", he counters. fair point. "okay im sorry. i'll treat you to lunch and dinner for letting me crash the night", you add and he smiles satisfied with the deal.

"so...do you remember what happened last night?", he adds, with a glint in his eyes. "hm what happened?", you ask, confused. you again have no recollection of the night before. he clicks his tongue. "im disappointed baby, i thought you would remember", he says as he walks up to the bed. "why...what happened?", you ask, unsure. "you really don't remember?", he frowns and shakes his head. "you don't remember asking me to sleep with you? i had to pry you off me", he says and you are horrified. "what…i would never....i didn't", you stutter. "hell you even tried to steal a few smooches". "stop lying i swear i will actually strangle you", you tell making him chuckle, showing his pretty smile. "no but you really did ask me to sleep with you baby", he says completely serious this time and you can feel your cheeks heat up because what the fuck. you really must've had too much to drink.

"it must've been a while since your last partner if you're so desperate for me", he'll tease. asshole. "i'll happily oblige if you ask me sober though", he adds with a wink making you whack him with the pillow.

you'll go home that day annoyed, hot, and bothered and won't be able to stop thinking about mingyu and his stupidly handsome face and body.

doesn't it suck to have the person you hate on your mind constantly? expect it wasn't exactly hate with mingyu. it was more how you just refused to believe you were attracted to him that made you think about him even more. not to mention you were business rivals, so you didn't want to do anything stupid.

it's been a few weeks and as much it pained you to admit it, you did wish mingyu stopped by but he hadn't in the last few weeks. and just as you were locking up and about to leave, you see a familiar figure strolling inside your restaurant - mingyu.

"what do you want?", you ask coldly, tired from the long day. "now is that how you greet a friend?", he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. you noticed how the shirt he was wearing just hugged his body and arms, showing off his biceps. and he was wearing glasses too. fuck he looked so hot tonight. you cleared your throat before speaking.

"im tired okay, what's up?", you repeat. "just came for dinner", he prompts and you're lost. "sorry what? we're closed", you say. "did someone forget they owe me lunch and dinner? how ungrateful", he says, shaking his head with a scoff. right, you promised him you'd treat him for letting you crash in his place.

"right...what do you want?", you ask. "i want you to cook me something that you love to eat", he asks. "i'll buy you something how's that?", you bargain. "no can do baby. or do you want the whole world to know that you're dying to sleep with me", he asks with a raised brow making you narrow your eyes at him. "you're such an ass", you mumble, purposely nudging your elbow into him as you walk ahead.

you lock up and mingyu would drive you back to your place where you decide to cook your favorite pasta for him. it was simple, easy to make, and super yummy too. mingyu would hang around in the kitchen as you started cooking, and maybe give you some unsolicited decor advice, making you roll your eyes. and you notice how mingyu's hands would just automatically start helping you gather ingredients or things - i guess that’s what happens when you cook for a living. you'd have to smack his hands off, telling him you'd manage to make him pout.

he'll lean back on the other end of the counter as you stand chopping some vegetables and doing some prep for the pasta. "so did your ex pay you a visit again?", mingyu asks, looking at you keenly. "that idiot did come in the morning again, and was asking where you were", you say. "what did you say?", "nothing, just that you had worked", you add. "but i don't think he'll come again, hopefully", you add.

"was he good in bed?", mingyu asks, like it's the most normal question in the world, catching you completely off guard. "excuse me? what kind of question is that?", you say, looking at him. "what, can't i know about your loser ex? i'm guessing he was pretty shit seeing as you've been dying to sleep with me", he adds with a smug smirk. as he pushes his glasses up. "what- firstly i am not dying to sleep with you and secondly i don't see why that actually matters to you", you say, getting annoyed. mingyu did an excellent job getting on your nerves.

"yeah so he was shit in bed", mingyu concludes when you avoid the question. "fuck you mingyu", you say, giving his a side eye. "oh, so you want me to? i'll gladly do it, just ask", he says nonchalantly. "like you're that good in bed either", you mumble to yourself but obviously mingyu heard you.

"is that a challenge baby? do you want me to show you", he asks with a raised brow. "whatever oh my god, just let me cook", you snap back at him, getting your focus back onto prepping for the pasta.

after a few seconds of silence, mingyu speaks up again. "baby if you need help, i'll be more than happy to. it feels awkward just standing here doing nothing", he asks again. "firstly, my name is -", you start, looking up to glance at mingyu. and maybe it was because you looked away for a second or because you were tired, your hand slipped and the knife sliced your finger. "OW", you yell, dropping the knife on the counter as you clutch your finger to your chest.

mingyu would be by your side in an instant. "what happened?", he asks and he gets his answer from the drops of blood on the countertop. "shit", he mutters. he can tell by the way your finger is bleeding that it's deep and bad cut. "where's your first aid kit", he asks urgently. "top shelf on the right", you mumble. he'll clear the countertop, pushing all the ingredients and chopping board to the side to make some space for you. you feel his hands on your waist as he gently hoists you up so you're now sitting on the countertop.

"here, let me see hm", he asks softly. you open your hands and hear him take in a sharp breath. it was pretty bad. you had cut not one, but two fingers and they were pretty deep slices, ouch. he'll wipe your finger with a wet cloth first. then he'll dab the disinfectant on, and you close your eyes because it burned like shit. "oww it hurts", you whine. "let me do it, i can manage mingyu", you huff but he won't let you. "don't - just let me help you".

he'll clean your other cuts and it just burns so bad you end up leaning your forehead on mingyu's shoulder, as he's standing in front of you. he'll gently bandage your fingers and make sure you were all okay. "done, you are okay baby?", he asks as you're still leaning your head against him. "hm", you manage to say. you lift your head up but you're still so close to mingyu, you gulp as you look at him. "sorry, i guess i was just tired", you tell softly. "you should have told me, we could have done this another time", he scolds. "i owed you though", you mumble, looking down. and i wanted to spend time with you.

"i'll be okay, it's no big deal", you add and you're hyper-aware of mingyu's hands resting on your thighs as he stares at you. "you're really stubborn you know", he adds making you scoff. "stubborn? me?? have you seen yourself, you're so damn cocky about everything", you counter. he won't say anything but he did love seeing you all feisty, he thought it was hot. "what can i say, i like being the best in everything i do", he counters, giving you a little smirk.

and you can't take it anymore. you couldn't take his stupid smile and how stupidly attracted you were to him. you couldn't take the tension anymore, so you just grabbed mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him. he would be caught off guard for a second but he'll smirk into the kiss, kissing you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss. you pull away.

"we shouldn't be doing this", you say breathlessly. "give me one good reason why we shouldn't", he responds as he captures your lips again, his other hand going to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. "fuck...because we're rivals and i'm supposed to hate you", you mumble between kisses. "let's just screw that and start over", he says as he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. but your mind is too fuzzy to care anymore. you look at him, his lips pink and plump from all the kissing. he starts to kiss your neck, making you gasp as your eyes flutter close. he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. "m-mingyu", you whisper. "hm tell me what you want baby", he groans softly, kissing up to your jawline as you grip his arm. "you're so annoying"softly, kissing up to your jawline. he moves his hand to remove his glasses when you stop him. "don't, i like how they look on you", you say, looking at him as you bite your lip. "oh really? how does it look on me?", he asks, fully knowing the answer but he just wanted to hear it from you. "makes you look so hot", you mumble against his lips, kissing him. he kisses you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss.

you don't know how you made it to your bed, as mingyu hovers over you, his shirt thrown somewhere to the side. "i'll fuck you so good that the only name you'll remember is mine", he taunts, whispering in your ear before kissing you again. his cheeks flushed and his hair falling over his face as he looks down at you. with such passion making you dizzy.

you stir awake and open your eyes to see mingyu soundly sleeping next to you. his arm is lazily around your waist, his hair falling over his hair in a cute mess. the events of last night are still clear in your head. what was going to happen now? what were the two of you?

you gently move, trying not to wake up mingyu, but he stirs slowly beside you, his arm tightening against your waist as he pulls you closer. "five more minutes", he mumbles and you can't really do anything to get out of his killer grip, so you lay there in his arms, admiring his pretty face.

"your five minutes are up", you say, pushing against his chest to get out of his hold, making mingyu open his eyes. "you're so mean", he mumbles, letting you get out of his grasp.

your clothes are scattered on the floor from the night before and you reach out for the closest thing near you - mingyu's shirt. you can definitely see him check you out as you are draped in his shirt as he shows his pretty grin to you. mingyu makes breakfast and soon you both part ways, having to attend to the restaurant.

that night, you crash in bed and you can't stop thinking about what happened between you both. what was going to happen? how could you possibly stay friends with him? would it be weird? and mostly, you were scared. you still didn't want to admit how you felt about him. and after last night's events, you were even more confused and unsure. so you do the worst thing anyone can do - try to avoid mingyu and pretend like it didn't happen.

it's easy at first because you're both busy with your work. but mingyu would leave you occasional texts to which you would just reply with short sentences, making up excuses that you were busy or tired if he asked if you were free for dinner or coffee. but then mingyu obviously picks up on your behavior and maybe starts to feel bad. and he decides to finally do something about it.

you wrap up for the night and are heading out the door when you bump into someone since you were looking at your phone as you walked. "ouch-oh", you let out upon seeing whom you had bumped into - mingyu.

"hi", you say, gaining your balance as you step back. "hi" he says as he looks at you. "what's up?", you ask. "i'm here to get my second treat from you", he adds and when you give him a confused look he elaborates. "did someone forget they owe me two meals?", he prompts with a raised eyebrow. this annoying asshole.

"thought you forgot about", you mumble under your breath. "how could i, what do you take me for hm", he teases making you glare at him. since you'd been avoiding him, you forgot how cocky and annoying he was, even though you hated to admit how much it turned you on and how much you found him insanely attractive.

"what do you want? i'll buy you dinner", you tell. "nope, you've to make me something", he tells, not budging. "fine i'll make you ramen", you tell. he raises his eyebrows. "are you flirting with me right now?", he asks. you simply push past him and walk ahead mumbling under your breath as he laughs and follows behind you.

you both are in your apartment now. taking a pot, you fill it with water and wait for it to boil as mingyu leans back against the counter. you're about to chop some green onions when mingyu steps in. "let me hm, don't want you cutting yourself again", he says as he takes the knife from you, chopping them neatly. you just hoped he didn't bring up what happened last time now because you would die on the spot if he did that.

"so...can i ask you why you've been avoiding me?", he finally asks. your leaning against the other side of the counter now as mingyu turns back to look at you. great, here we go.

"what do you mean, i haven't been avoiding you", you lie, trying to sound convincing but mingyu can see right through you. "don't lie baby, it's very obvious", he says crossing his arms across his chest, which only emphasized his biceps even more.

"is it because of what happened between us last time?", he asks as he looks at you. the way he looks at you and waits tells you that he did genuinely have feelings for you. you liked him too, he definitely made your heart jump. but you both were supposed to be rivals and you're feelings were complicated, and you didn't know how to say it.

"i'm not going to lie, i did feel bad. i thought there was a spark between us you know", he says. the water is boiling now but mingyu didn't move and neither did you.

"yeah, it was fine. just... let's just treat it like a one-night stand and move on okay. forget about it", you tell, dismissing the topic and your feelings completely, and you didn't miss the flash of hurt that reflected in mingyu's eyes.

you come forward to put the ramen in the water along with the flavoring packets as you try to ignore mingyu's presence next to you. "wow", he finally says. "so that's all it was to you? it didn't mean anything? because from what i remember i clearly felt something and so did you", he adds, not letting go of the topic.

"it's just something that happened-" "did you want it", he asks cutting you off. the ramen is still boiling but neither of you pays attention to it anymore. "i mean yeah but that doesn't need to define our relationship", you tell. "what are we now?", you ask.

"i don't know but i thought it could be the start of something. but seeing how you just thought about it as a one-night stand and have been ignoring me ever since tells me all i need to know", he tells as he runs a hand through his hair. you finally turn back your attention to the ramen, which is clearly been boiling for too long. turning off the stove, you serve some for yourself and mingyu and push the bowl toward him.

neither of you talk as you both eat, mingyu inhaling the noodles. you can tell he's pissed off but he still helps you clean up before leaves, only telling you thanks for the ramen as he steps out the door of your apartment.

that week mingyu doesn't text you or call. it was selfish of you to think that he would. but still, you unconsciously found yourself waiting for his text or his goofy face to pop by your restaurant. and that's when you realized you missed him. you really did like him alot. that night after a long day and a long week, you find yourself drinking alone in the corner of a cute restaurant, just drowning in your sorrows. you were pretty tipsy at this point and some random person decided to sit next to you, annoying you and was trying to make small talk with you.

"can you leave, please? i don't think i know you", you tell but they don't seem to listen. that's when you hear a familiar voice. "i think you need to go", the voice says and you look up. "who are you?" "they're my partner", you hear the voice say as the person gets up, walking off as the person glares at him.

the mystery person who just saved you takes a seat opposite you and you stare at him trying to figure out where you've seen him before. "you look like someone i know", you tell, taking another sip of your drink, only to find the glass empty as you ask for another drink. "yeah you look like this guy mingyu", you tell and he chuckles because it was, in fact, mingyu who was sitting in front of you.

after taking a few sips of your refreshed drink, you launch into an explanation about mingyu...to mingyu because you're too drunk to realize mingyu is in front of you and you just needed to get things off your chest.

"who's mingyu?", he asks. "this guy who's super annoying but also so attractive. and i just fucked up big time with him. we ended up sleeping together but then i just told him to forget about it basically. and now i'm just going to die single", you tell. mingyu smiles softly at that. " but how do you feel about him?", he asks, curious to know what you really felt and thought about him.

"i do like him, even though he's too cocky for his own good and annoying, he's pretty cool. i can't seem to think straight when i'm around him. i was just scared to admit my feelings after and screwed up, causing a mess. but i really really do like him", you tell, as you down your drink. mingyu stops your hand when you ask for another drink. "i think you've had enough for tonight baby, let's get you home", he says and soon he's driving you back home while you're passed out asleep in the passenger seat of his car.

you stir awake in bed, your head heavy from last night's drinking. you open your eyes and look around. since when did you have yellow walls? you look around and get up, realizing this isn't your room, but why does it seem vaguely familiar? just then a head peeps into the room - mingyu.

what the hell? he sees you awake and gives you that toothy, stupid, pretty smile. "you're awake i see", he tells, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "you should just move into my place hm i can see that you love it so much", he adds, being sarcastic and teasing you. "why am i here?", you ask, confused, not being able to recall how or why you even ended up in mingyu's house. you're just hoping you didn't do anything stupid last night.

"bad memory again baby?", he prompts and you give him a small glare.

"shit", you mumble under your breath as you wrack your brain and try to recall last nights events. "sorry i keep crashing at your place", you add, feeling guilty. "i made breakfast, eat before it get's cold", he says before retreating back to the dining hall. you follow him after a minute and you're about to just walk away.

"it's fine, i'll eat later", you say but mingyu just puts the plate in front of you, guiding you to a seat and pushing you down to sit. "you're really going to refuse my world famous french toast?", he asks.

you take a bite and nod because it was actually very yum. "how'd i end up here anyway?", you ask, looking at mingyu. "you texted me", he says and you wait for him to explain more. "or like left me a few really misspelled drunk texts which i had to put together to figure out where you were". then you remember. right, that's what i was doing, trying to forget about mingyu, yet here you were at his house.

"and then you passed out in my car when i was driving you home and you wouldn't wake up so i had to take you back to my place", he explains between bites of his toast. you cringe at the memory. "sorry", you mumble out.

later that week you still can't stop thinking about mingyu and even more so. he was just so sweet and charming. and you missed him. you're laying down in bed and it's late. you're staring at the ceiling and thinking about mingyu and your feelings. what was i so scared off? was i going to push away somehow just because i was unsure and scared, and maybe lose out on something because of that? and then regret it. you didn't want to. you'd done that plenty of times before and knew how it ended. so you get up. you were not going to make the same mistake with mingyu.

you threw on a hoodie and shoes and took the bus, making your way to mingyu's house. you run from the bus stop to his place, not caring if people gave you weird looks. you were just hoping that it wasn't too late and that mingyu would still listen and maybe give you a chance.

you run up the stairs not caring to wait for the elevator and ring his doorbell, leaning your hand against his door as you catch your breath. the door opens and you lose your balance, falling right into mingyu's arm. he catches you. "woah woah", he says seeing you. "y/n?", he asks, seeing you breathless. "are you okay? did something happen?", he asks again. you step inside, the door closing behind you.

"let me get you some water and-", "i like you too okay", you tell, catching him off guard and he just stares at you. "i like you a lot mingyu. i was just scared of my feelings and pushed you away and i was an idiot but now i realized now. i'm sorry about the other day, i shouldn't have said that but now i can see it, that i really like you", you continue in one breath as you look at mingyu.

mingyu falters, trying to hide the smile that so desperately wants to burst across his face. "damn, i didn't think you'd be so upfront about it", he tells as he smiles at you finally. "so you finally decided that you like me huh", he teases, taking a stride ahead as you take a step back until you're backed up against the door. mingyu stands in front of you, his arms on both sides of your body. he leans in ever so slightly. "y-yeah", you reply softly as you look at his lips.

mingyu smiles and you can't take it anymore. you lean forward and kiss him, melting right into his arms as his hands move to your waist, pulling you against him. god you had missed this. his lips were soft and they moved against yours making you dizzy. "i missed you", you whisper against his lips and he lets out a soft grunt. "me too baby but i knew you'd come around", he says. he sees your furrowed brows and realizes you didn't remember the drunk confession you had made to him.

"you don't remember? that night you called me over and like told me everything and confessed when you were drunk. i was just waiting for you to tell me when you were sober", he tells, kissing your jaw. "i really need to cut down on alcohol", you mutter and he chuckles. you find his lips again and kiss him. "you're really darn stubborn you know", mingyu tells you once he breaks away making you whack his arm.

he grins as he chases after your lips again, guiding you to the couch, pulling you on top of him, never once breaking away, making you breathless once again. "you now owe me another meal", he mumbles between kisses. "hm", you mumble, pecking his nose.

"be my boyfriend?", you ask, looking at him and he grins at that word. "whatever you want baby, i'm all yours", he tells as he kisses you again and you get lost in the feeling of his kisses and how his lips feel on yours.

it's been about three months since you and mingyu have been dating after you finally came to your senses and finally acknowledged your feelings about him. and honestly you were so happy. mingyu was sweet, funny, honest, passionate, and still annoyingly attractive but who were you to complain because you had him all to yourself now.

you're at mingyu's place because you're finally keeping your end of the deal and cooking another meal for him because you still owed mingyu one last meal, and he wasn't going to let you forget about it. after months of nagging and forgetting, remembering and nagging again, here you are, cooking him a meal.

"i really didn't think you'd make me cook for you again after i admitted how i felt like that's just petty", you tell. "we made a deal hm and it still has to be fulfilled", he counters. "i was glad you forgot about it...until now", you mumble and he chuckles.

you had prepared pork tonkatsu with some sides and you set everything on the table. "looks good", he says. "of course, this is like my specialty", you tell proudly with a smile. you watch as mingyu takes a bite and chews. "it's...better than i expected", he admits and you smile. "see, everyone loves it"

oh, and mingyu still loves to tease you about how you were 'playing hard to get' on purpose. "you know i still don't get why you hated me", he asks after dinner, where you both are sitting on the couch, having some cake mingyu bought.

"i didn't hate you", you defend. "liar, you totally hated me like i swear i saw lasers shooting from your eye the first time we met", he counters and you roll your eyes at his exaggeration.

"i just...i don't know, i thought you were so full of yourself and too cocky...and too good looking", you tell mumbling the last part. "hm what was that baby?", he prods, as he puts his plate down. "nothing", you tell. "speak up baby", "that you were too good looking oh my god", you tell, annoyed.

''you left out the most important part". "what?", you ask, confused. "that you were dying to sleep with me", he completes, with a stupid smirk.

"mingyu!", you exclaim, whacking his arm as he laughs. "i was not okay", you tell, putting down your plate too. "i just-" "was so desperate for me", he says, finishing the sentence for you, making you glare at him as he leans closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"you're so annoying", you huff. "only for you", he replies, as he leans in to kiss you and you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

"you need to cook me something next time", you mumble as you pull away. "hm whatever you want", he says as he chases after your lips again, making you melt in his embrace.

taglist: @joshuaahong @naaaaafla

i'd love to know what you thought :) reblogs appreciated <3

[jakeotters]

Would you be able to take a request for Scott from Twisters and a reader who is new to Storm Par? The plot and everything else can be up to you

omg yes ofc!! the “scott x reader who’s new to storm par” has been one of my favorite self inserts tbh

An Ego Problem (scott miller x reader)

this ended up being longer than i anticipated

warnings: swearing, scott being an ass (per usual)

a/n: this is my first time writing in a while so i apologize if it’s not the best! also writing for scott means i can use all of my fancy weather knowledge (i’m a meteorology major) and that’s very special to me <3

You aren’t new to storm chasing. You’d grown up in tornado alley— you were more than used to the hell that the sky unleashes.

Tornadoes don’t scare you, you’ve always been fascinated by their power; the way that the atmosphere is capable of creating something that can produce catastrophic damage in a matter of seconds. You were so drawn by it.

But, here you are, driving through the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, and you’re nervous. You don’t know the last time the thought of chasing made you nervous.

“Y/n?”

The sound of your name snaps you out of your thoughts and you blink, your head perking up.

“You nervous?”

Your friend Javi turned his head to look at you, eyes leaving the road momentarily. You’d known Javi since college, and you’d chased with him before, but you were chasing with his crew for the first time this season.

“Nervous? No.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze and managed a smile. You tried to keep from fidgeting, feeling more and more uneasy as you neared the gas station his crew was waiting at.

“You sure? You seem awfully quiet.”

Javi knew you better than anyone, it wasn’t hard to tell that you weren’t yourself. He knew that chasing excited you more than anything, it was weird for you to be so reclusive.

“I’m fine. Promise.”

You didn’t mean to be short with him but you couldn’t help it. Javi shrugged, not believing you but not pushing any further. You swallowed thickly as he pulled into the gas station.

Javi parked before shutting off the truck and hopping out. He opened your door, helping you out of the passenger seat. You stepped out and looked around. Storm chasers were crowded in the parking lot, preparing their instruments and looking at laptops. You watched the groups of chasers as Javi walked you towards where his crew was standing.

You turned to look at his crew as you were introduced. They were dressed in white button downs, Storm Par sewn onto the front pocket of their shirts, shirts tucked into their black pants. You’d never seen storm chasers dressed so neatly. They looked so professional— it was a stark contrast to the chasers around them. Even you could admit that it was a little… odd.

Javi told you where everyone had gone to school, who was with the National Weather Service, who had PhDs, this and that. You scanned the group until your eyes landed on the guy standing in front of you. He was tall, iPad in his hand, hat on his head, and sunglasses hiding his eyes. He was looking at you, the expression on his face serious. Javi said something about him going to MIT. You instantly felt intimidated by him.

“This is Scott,”

Javi put his arm around the tall man, but his expression never changed.

“He makes up for it with his beautiful, amazing personality.”

Scott gave an insincere smile before his face went back to his stern, blank expression. You wondered what his eyes looked like behind the veil of his sunglasses.

“So, y/n, where are we headed?”

Javi took the iPad from Scott and handed it to you. You looked at Javi before looking at the tablet in your hand. A radar image was pulled up, the colorful blobs of developing thunderstorms dotted along the screen.

“I, uh- um-”

You stuttered. Your mind couldn’t seem to focus, it was like you’d forgotten everything you knew about weather and storm chasing. You immediately felt embarrassed as you felt the eyes of Javi and his crew on you, but the feeling of Scott’s eyes focused on you made your cheeks flush bright red. He was standing close to you, too close—

“What’s wrong? Can’t read a radar screen?”

Scott’s voice rang out above you. He raised an eyebrow when you looked at him. He’d taken his sunglasses off and tucked them into his shirt pocket, his blue eyes bearing into yours. The condescending tone in his voice pushed out any embarrassment you felt.

“Excuse me?”

Scott looked at the iPad and looked back at your face, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

“Need help knowing what you’re looking at? Do I need to teach you how to read radar?”

You stood there. You knew he was trying to push your buttons, obviously testing you. You knew you were good, you’d been chasing longer than most of the people in this parking lot, but his comments stung. You pushed the iPad into his hands and walked away, not wanting to show your emotions in front of the crew.

It wasn’t long before Javi found you, standing on the grass at the edge of the parking lot, watching the sky. You felt his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t let Scott get to you. He’s like that with everyone, must be an ego problem.”

You chuckle at Javi’s comment.

“Am I riding with you?”

You didn’t take your eyes off the tall clouds that formed the building storms in front of you.

“Actually, no. You’re gonna have to ride with Scott.”

Your head immediately snapped towards Javi. You felt like the air had been taken out of you.

“What?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just for today.”

“Oh.”

Your voice became small and you swear you could feel your insides coil up.

“Javi! Time to go!”

You heard Scott yell from the distance. You didn’t want to move from where you were standing, in fact, you wanted to run in the opposite direction. You wanted to get as far away from this place, and Scott, as possible.

“Sorry, y/n. It’ll be fine, just listen to what Scott tells you to do.”

Javi sounded sincere with his apology. He squeezed your shoulder as the two of you walked towards the vehicles.

———

You sat in the passenger seat of Scott’s SUV, Javi’s truck not far ahead. He hadn’t said anything to you, minus the grunt of disapproval when you got in the vehicle with him before the two of you pulled out of the parking lot.

Scott kept his gaze on the road, eyes occasionally traveling to look at the towering supercell that took over the sky in front of you. You watched his jaw move as he chewed his gum.

“So, how’d you start chasing?”

You attempted to make conversation, even though he intimidated you, you hated to sit in a silent car. Scott made a noise in his throat.

“I’m surprised you picked the right storm.”

He finally spoke. His tone was flat, just like the expression on his face when you’d first seen him. You weren’t sure how to answer.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what I said?”

That stupid, sly smirk played at Scott’s lips again.

“You have a lot of words for someone who isn’t calling the shots here.”

Scott scoffed at you.

“Not calling the shots? Honey, I’m the reason Javi has Storm Par. I’m the reason he’s able to do any of this.”

You stared straight ahead, watching a wall cloud lower just a few miles away. The rotation was evident and you tried to focus on the counterclockwise motion in the sky.

“Can you tell me what we’re looking at or do you need me to teach you that too?”

You could see Scott’s eyes move to look at you from under his sunglasses. The smirk was still on his lips, he looked so cocky.

“Wall cloud with rapid rotation. Supercell has a defined meso. Tornado is imminent.”

Your tone was serious, almost as stern as Scott’s. You wanted to tell him to fuck off, to pick on someone else, but you didn’t. You could tell you shut him up by the way his jaw clenched. His stare was fixed straight ahead again.

It wasn’t long before a funnel emerged from the wall cloud, condensation meeting the ground in a beautiful, perfectly lit cone. That was the perfect tornado, the tornado that made chasing worth it. For a few seconds, you forgot that Scott was in the car with you. You felt as mesmerized as you always had. It was peaceful.

———

Scott pulled into the parking lot of the motel you were staying at. He shut off the ignition and got out without saying anything, you were weary to get out but you did. You hadn’t realized just how tired you were until the drive back, you almost fell asleep in the car.

You got out of the SUV, ready to get to your room. You began walking past Scott, not in the mood to talk to him— or deal with him.

“Hold on.”

You felt Scott grab your arm as you walked past. He was strong and his grip was tight, almost too tight. You sighed and rolled your eyes, not wanting to hear what he had to say.

“The fuck do you want?”

You didn’t care that you swore at him, you figured he deserved it. You stayed in his grasp, afraid he’d only make it tighter if you did.

“You don’t like me.”

His blue eyes were focused on yours.

“How’d you know?”

You scoffed, wanting to laugh at how stupidly obvious his observation was.

“Javi made you out to be the best there is. He painted a picture of you that made you seem like you’re a saint. I can’t say I agree with that.”

Scott’s stern expression didn’t change. He was sharp and direct with his words and you felt yourself squirm.

“Well, I’m sorry that I think you’re a dick-”

“Uh-uh, honey. You’re gonna be on this crew, then you’re gonna have to learn to like me. After all, I’m the one who calls the shots here.”

Scott’s eyes looked over you before he let go of your arm. You watched him walk away, joining the other Storm Par members next to their vehicles. It was clear he wanted some kind of authority over you. You sighed, too exhausted to let him upset you. You walked off to your room, glad to be away from him.

An ego problem, you thought to yourself.

my inbox is open for requests! rules for requests

[hufflegruff]

girl the way i RAN when i saw you asking for requests as a break from a knowing look!!! if youre down to maybe do something like hurt comfort vibes? with sebastian x MC? like mayhaps they’re fighting and MC gets hurt and protective Sebastian comes out? literally in love with everything you’ve written!!! you’re amazing! <3

I was meant to write a drabble but somehow this became a NOVEL?! Good lord. I really wanted to do it justice!!! I hope you guys still enjoy it!!!

It takes a disaster

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Word Count: 5k Contains: Fluff, angst, making out!!! Requested: The lovely @ithinkweallsing and @musicbecky had similar requests about protective Seb x hurt MC so I combined both :)

Summary:

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled. She winced at the loudness of his voice.  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?” His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing.  She stared at him, mouth agape.  Sorry, was she dreaming? What was that he just said? 

It takes a disaster

When she first resigned to the pitiful fact that she was very likely in love with Sebastian Sallow, she accepted her fate. Doomed to suffer in an unrequited love she held for her best friend. 

Merlin, it was such a cliché. 

Honestly, she would have laughed at herself if it didn’t also feel so pathetically miserable.

Somewhere along the way, amid catacombs and restricted sections and ancient relics, she found herself becoming dissatisfied with just friendship. And before she could even catch herself, she had already fallen. Buried ten feet underground by the weight of her own despicable, cavernous feelings. 

Because they’d been best friends for long enough for her to know that Sebastian Sallow flirted like his livelihood depended on it. If courting witches was a sport, he’d be a professional. It came to him as naturally as breathing. 

That was why Cressida Blume battered her eyelashes so feverishly everytime he was near. And why Samantha Dale had been so Goddamn adamant on being her potions partner, so she could siphon hints on how best to charm the Slytherin for herself.

And why she would never entertain the idea that any of Sebastian’s pretty words could be anything more than lip service. 

So she went out of her way to find reasons to keep herself busy. Taking jobs and doing favours for townsfolk in the vicinity, so that she wouldn’t have to sit with her own feelings. Or Sebastian himself. Hoping that by the time it came for them to leave Hogwarts, that she would find peace and leave her feelings for him in the deepest depths of the castle. 

The distance would help. It just had to. 

Unfortunately for her, when she had said that she was heading to the poacher camp up in the Poidsear coast by her lonesome, Sebastian insisted that he absolutely had to come along.

“Don’t be daft. Of course I have to come with you. Who else is going to swoop in when your sorry arse needs saving?” He teased.

She was almost offended, “I don’t need a babysitter, Sebastian.”

“Not a babysitter,” he clarified, “A knight in shining armor,” with a dashingly flirtatious smile.

She felt her heart flutter, and cursed his annoyingly perfect fluffy hair for it. What business did it have looking so attractive? Honestly, the cheek of these Slytherin boys to say such rousing things.

Ominis, Sebastian and herself had been lazing in the grass in front of the main school grounds. But with a deft wave of his hand Seastian beckoned over his broom, and it zipped obediently over. 

“Come on. Let’s go.” Sebastian said easily.

“What? Right now?” She replied in disbelief.

“Well, I don’t see anything better to do. Do you?”

From beside him, Ominis piped up annoyed, “Um, excuse me. Did we not agree that we needed to finish our group project today so as to not suffer the wrath of Sharp’s horrid temper?”

Silently, she thanked Ominis for the diversion and prayed Sebastian would take it.

“Like I said. Nothing better to do.” Sebastian reiterated shamelessly. 

Ominis rolled his eyes, “Absolute moron you are. Whatever. Take him off my hands for all I care.”

Well that didn’t go at all the way she hoped.

“But I’ve… not even stocked up on my potions.” She said weakly.

Sebastian wasn’t having it.

“Come on, it’s just a routine poacher clear out! I’ve got a couple of Wiggenwelds on me. You know it’s going to be a cakewalk for the both of us.” 

She could never say no to him. Not when he looked at her like that. She imagined that most girls couldn’t either. An ugly, decrepit feeling bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. But she willed herself to push the unhelpful thought down and out of sight. 

“Fine.” She caved with a haughty flip of her hair, “But try to keep up. I don’t want to have to take care of you out there.”

In a ridiculously exaggerated display of chivalry, he offered her his hand and led her onto the broom with a coy smile.

“Ladies first.”

This boy was going to be the death of her. The ride to Poidsear would all but confirm that. 

Sebastian had insisted that she sit in front of him to steer — and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand how she had willingly agreed to put herself in this position. His breath was right in the crook of her neck, and his warm hands were wrapped all too tightly around her waist. Did he really think that she could steer like this? She was appalled at how totally inconsiderate he was by being so oblivious to her feelings. 

She could hardly hear her own thoughts — not even the intrusive ones — let alone focus on the fly.

Was he doing this on purpose? Because it was annoying.

The singularly, most vexing thing he could do in fact. She had a mission to concentrate on. She didn’t need to be sidetracked. She hadn’t even wanted him and his distracting face to come along in the first place.

“Merlin. Hold me any tighter and I might burst, Sebastian.” She tried her best to make it sound casual. With the light cadence of a joke, and not the high stakes affair it felt like.

“Well, I can’t risk having you falling to an untimely death under my watch. I’d never hear the end of it from Ominis. Or Samantha. For killing her potions partner at such a crucial time in the academic year,” He joked. 

His tone was teasing, but she hated that his words sounded so… carefree. Completely unbothered. It bruised her heart more than she liked to admit, but it hurt her to know that he probably thought that this was the same as being in close proximity to Anne. 

And why the bloody hell did he have to mention Samantha Dale at a time like this? Unprompted and all. Teenage boys really had no tact. If that had been a glimpse into Sebastian’s mind, she didn’t want to see it. Lock it up and throw away the keys and unleash it into the depths of the black sea to never be found. 

If she just ignored it, and never faced it head on, maybe her heart would break a little bit softer. 

“Right.” She replied curtly, willing the dejection she felt to go away.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” 

“No.” 

He paused in contemplation, before declaring, “You’re upset.”

He had said it so matter of factly she almost couldn’t disagree with him. Almost. She cursed herself for not being able to hide the bitterness in her voice better. She cursed him for noticing this of all things.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not.” She retorted harshly.

When the words left her mouth, she quickly regretted them. She felt guilty for how unnecessarily rude it sounded. But she couldn’t talk about this. There was objectively no good way to explain why she seemed so irrationally bothered without emotionally vomiting her feelings onto him.  

But before she could apologise, he chose to let it go. 

And she didn’t know if she felt relieved or even more devastated.

The rest of their journey to Poidsear was endured in silence. When they finally arrived, they landed just at the precipice of the poacher camp. It was time to get serious, she mentally chided herself. There was simply no time to torment herself with such frivolous nonsense.

They kept out of sight behind a mountain of crates next to a tent. Making sure to stay hidden, she briskly surveyed the scene. She could see from the corner of her eye, a family of hippogriffs chained in cages by the Eastern front. But getting to them would be no easy feat; the area was littered with Ashwinders at every corner. 

“God. There’s more of them than I thought.” She whispered to herself.

“Worried? How very unlike you.” Sebastian raised a brow in response.

“Not at all. It’s just you would think that these degenerates would have more productive things to do with themselves than taking magical creatures as prisoners.” She whispered with a scoff.

She had not even one ounce of respect for the Ashwinders, especially those of the poaching variety. Those who made a nefarious career out of hunting innocent, majestic creatures for blood sport were the worst of them.

To her surprise, when she turned to look at Sebastian, he was looking straight at her with an enigmatic smile.

And then suddenly, she felt self-conscious.

“What?” She whispered nervously.

Sebastian murmured warmly, “This is a little nostalgic is it not?”

“How so?”

“You. Me. The exhilarating thrill of getting caught at any moment. Feels like fifth year doesn’t it?” His voice was lower than usual, quieter, with a hint of something dastardly alluring. 

It made her heart skip an alarming amount of beats and her skin shiver at the sound of it. She felt an outrageously girlish impulse to snog him and hex him and run far, far away from him all at once. What she would give for him to have a taste of his own medicine. Even if he wasn’t in love with her, maybe she still could grab him by the collar and kiss him silly until his lips were bruised. 

Maybe that would finally fluster him. 

Because by God, he deserved to be put in his place for all the bloody grief he unknowingly gave her.

He was looking at her so affectionately, and that was just so uncalled for. Honestly, she didn’t know how he managed to flirt so skilfully even in the face of imminent danger. In the near vicinity of bloodthirsty dark wizards. If she wasn’t so conflicted by it all she would be impressed. She imagined that Sebastian Sallow could probably flirt with Death himself and get away with it. 

Perhaps that would be a rather useful quality in an Auror. Perhaps, when they were back in the safety of the castle, she would suggest it as a fitting career path for him—

“Look what we have here. A little far from Hogwarts aren’t we?”

She felt her blood freeze over at the sound of the new voice. Sebastian stiffened. A sinister chill ran up her spine.

When she turned, she was greeted by the menacing smile of an Ashwinder, cloaked in shadows. And almost as if the Hermes had struck her himself, the girl wonder retaliated at reckless speeds and pointed her wand with venomous hostility at the dark wizard in front of them.

Fuck. She cursed internally. Her guard had been irresponsibly down. She hadn’t even heard him approach them.

Sebastian probably sensed her panic, and squeezed her hand twice.

Once to comfort her, the second to ask her to follow his lead.

Raising his hands up in mock surrender, Sebastian said sardonically with a wry smile “Sir, we were just passing by the area. We didn’t know that this was private property. Terribly sorry for the intrusion. If you allow us, we’ll be on our way now.” 

The Ashwinder scoffed, “Save it kid, I know exactly who you two meddlesome brats are.”

“Oh well that’s unfortunate.” Sebastian said patronisingly.

Her grip on her wand tightened. She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but she knew that she had to be ready. 

“Why’s that?” The Ashwinder asked with a laugh.

“Because that means I have to do this.” 

And suddenly, with a swift motion, Sebastian lunged forward with his wand. And almost as if by blind, brazen instinct, her own hands followed suit. 

“Confringo!”

“Expelliarmus!”

“Protego!”

Red, green, and blue. The colours of their spells cackled at lightning speeds against the howling wind. 

But soon enough their commotion caused a ruckus, and it became an army against two measly bodies.

“Shit!” Sebastian cursed under his breath.

And frankly, she had to give it to them to their credit, these Ashwinders proved to be pretty formidable adversaries. They moved faster than the others did. And their spells missed her more narrowly than they normally did. But still, actually hitting her was the aim. Close enough wasn’t good enough, and she was determined to make sure that they would never achieve it. 

She’d make sure of it — they didn’t call her the girl wonder for nothing. 

Spells collided and echoed around her, the acrid scent of fire filling her nostrils. If peril were a smell, this is what she imagined that it would smell like.

And in the midst of the chaos, without a surge of power erupted from one of the Ashwinders. Like a strike straight out of God’s hand — with a single, severe flash of light — a calamitous spell was unleashed, enveloping the camp grounds in a sheathe of blinding white. 

And when the light became less blinding, she found herself separated from Sebastian. 

Panic welled up within her as she searched the battlefield, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"Sebastian!" She called out.

Where was Sebastian?

Fuck. That wasn’t good. She needed to find Sebastian. 

Like insidious tendril vines, fear crept into her veins. Yet she willed the anxiousness in her brain to focus; willed it to calm down. Sebastian was a capable wizard. He could handle a few pesky Ashwinders. 

Just as capable as she was. 

Because with a flick of her wrist, shields shattered and hexes were deflected. With every spell she cast, the wind sang as her curses hit bodies, like a force of nature answering her call. One by one Ashwinders fell under the weight of her unyielding assault. 

But then a piercing hex sliced right through her defences. 

Her protego shattered, and she was thrown backward into a mess of limbs onto the ground. 

“Crucio!”

The sound of the spell sent chills down her spine. It brought her back to the scriptorium. It brought her back to a shadow of Sebastian that she had been trying to forget. 

But before she could run, scream, dive or react — it reached her. 

And just as torturously as it had the very first time she endured it, pain erupted through her body as she was thrown backward, limbs contorting as she crumbled in agony onto gritty soil. Back then, it had felt as if lightning had struck every single nerve ending in her body. This time it felt like she was burning under a flame that was twice as brutal.

The pain was relentless. Her mind screamed for respite, for any brief release from this torture. She clawed at the ground, gripping her nails deep into the dirt, as if seeking solace in the earth itself. But there was no escape. No reprieve.

Through the haze of pain, she caught glimpses of the Ashwinder that had casted the curse. Even through her blurry vision, she could see that they were gloating. Content at how they had reduced her to nothing more than a writhing, broken vessel.

And God, that pissed her off immensely.

If they could sense the literal thunder in her veins, she wondered if they would be so cavalier?

She didn’t think so.

Through gritted teeth; through sheer determination, she struggled onto her feet with her body shaking in defiance. Summoned the last remnants of her ancient magic, her wand trembling in her shaky hand. A surge of energy flowed through her veins. The air above the tips of her fingers crackled with raw power as she channeled her magic, focusing it into a singularly devastating spell.

And when it hit the Ashwinder, it eviscerated them in waves.

In between all the fighting and screaming and surviving, she didn’t remember much of the details.

But all of a sudden, it was silent. 

And all of the sudden, it was just her standing alone in plumes of dust.

When the air finally settled down, she felt herself start to cave. The adrenaline had done its job and was quickly leaking out of her blood stream. As if she had exerted and drained every last ounce of her spirit and was on the verge of collapse.

Was it just her, or were the skies starting to fade?

The pain in her chest was still excruciating. This cruciatus curse felt different from the one that Sebastian had casted on her before. 

This one was lingering. 

Like it was clawing onto her heart and gripping onto it in a chokehold with a resentful vengeance. Despite having just won, she didn’t have a spare moment to feel relieved. The pain was quickly growing and air couldn’t seem to reach her lungs fast enough.       

But Sebastian… Where was Sebastian? The panic began to rumble within her. She had foolishly let her own guard down, and let him out of her sight. She mustered what little energy she had left and moved her head frantically in search of him. 

How could she ever forgive herself if she let him die? 

But when she saw a figure barreling head first towards her, even through blurry eyes and the crackle in the depths of her tired limbs, she knew that it was him. And like an oasis in the blistering desert, the comfort she felt from seeing his face was a brief solace to the pain. 

If this was where she was destined to meet her end, she hazily deliberated, at least she could draw her last breath in peace knowing that he was safe. 

(Not to be dramatic or anything.)

When Sebastian finally caught up to her, he laughed and bursted out breathily, “Merlin… Whatever you and your ancient magic did back there was insane.”

He was safe, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t have the energy anymore. Not for a conversation, let alone banter. She needed to preserve her last scraps of her battered stamina to make it back to the castle and patch herself up in solitude.

And one thing was for certain: Sebastian could not know.

“I think we managed pretty well.” He said with a tired smile.

“Yeah,” she replied breathily, “W-we did good.”

She sounded a mess. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

To her dismay, the look on his face immediately switched into that of deep concern. 

He interrogated hurriedly, “What wrong? You sound a little off. Are you hurt?”

Everything was wrong. The discomfort that gripped her chest was getting worse with every passing second. Standing was starting to become too taxing of an undertaking for her. 

But needless to say, she didn’t want another thing to worry about, and Sebastian would always make an unnecessarily big fuss anytime she was hurt. Even if it was just a minuscule scratch. He was always too distraught; too tender. It was one of the things she adored most about him. 

And she absolutely loathed him for it.

So her stubbornness was persuaded that suffering in silence was the easier of two fates. 

Indignantly, she retorted, “How rude. I’ll have you k-know I’m perfectly f-fine.”

Her words were starting to slur, not that she noticed. But Sebastian clearly had. Assertively, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him.

“You’re not fine.” He declared demandingly.

As he frantically searched her eyes, arms, back, legs for signs of what was wrong, she found herself nuzzled in the nook of his chest. She felt her willpower wither slightly in his flustered hands. 

In the shallow breaths that she took, she could smell him. The musk of pinewood and sputtering fireplaces and late nights drifting in the restricted section. An aromatic cocktail that was overwhelmingly intoxicating. 

Now she was getting angry. And drowsy. And dizzy. Why couldn’t Sebastian tell that he was being so selfish by being so considerate? He needed to stop touching her so carelessly. She was lightheaded enough as it is, she didn’t need his excessive gentleness to add fuel to the flames of her absurd delusions. 

But maybe if she just closed her eyes and rested for this brief moment. Sebastian would take the hint and just leave her be. Maybe all she needed was a quick lie down and he would see that she was perfectly fine. 

“Oh fuck, there’s so much blood— hey, hey!”

She could see Sebastian calling out her name, but she couldn't hear it. And soon enough she realised, she wasn’t fighting it anymore. And soon enough, Sebastian was no longer in sight. Soon enough, she found herself alone in a quiet, soothing darkness. 

Something was twisting at her to give into slumber. Into solitude. Into emptiness. She vaguely remembered from one of Sharp’s more riveting lectures that when poisoned - one should always fight the urge.

But she could still feel the warmth of Sebastian’s hands on the small of her back, and the comfort of it lulled her to relinquish control. After a few ambivalent moments, drifting in and out of awareness, she surrendered to sleep.

When she woke, she was greeted by a horrendously pounding headache. She had no sense of place, but a low groaning ache in her bones. Her eyes struggled to open, but she could feel the warm sun on the tip of her nose, and the tips of her cheeks. The softness of the sun quelled a little bit of the soreness in her body. 

She deduced that wherever she was, it was warm and safe. Despite the ache in her bones, there was also a weightlessness to her body. Therefore, she somehow rationalised with herself that this was very likely heaven. 

Or any other religious equivalent afterlife. 

She wasn’t picky. Any one would do, really.

When her bleary eyes finally pulled themselves open, the fragmented parts of her vision pieced together a faint picture. Of pristine white linen and crisply casted grey brick. A peculiar blend of sickly artificial peonies and concentrated chemicals flooded her nostrils. 

Which was odd. Because she hadn’t imagined that the afterlife would feel quite so sterile.

“Fucking hell,” spoke a voice she could never not recognise, and she was shocked. 

Did heaven include conjuring up a phantom Sebastian from the figment of her deepest imaginations to keep her company for the rest of eternity?

“Sebastian?”

“You’re awake.” His voice was hoarse.

When her eyes finally focused, she saw him properly. It was definitely Sebastian Sallow, the boy that had her heart leaping acres across the Hebridean seas. But in all her years of knowing and pining for him, she’d never seen him look so terrible. His hair was disheveled as if it had endured a torrid storm. His eyes were heavy and solemn, as if they had tolerated an eternity of grief.

This seemed all too real. Too visceral. 

Maybe this wasn’t heaven.

“Am I dead?” She thought to confirm.

He laughed a humourless laugh.

“No. You’re in the hospital wing.”

So this was real. She was in pain because her body had been bruised like a peach. 

When she finally looked around, she found herself neatly tucked into the covers of an infirmary bed. She couldn’t recall how she got here, and only remembered a few little scraps of the event that led up to Poidsear. But if she had to be certain of anything, Sebastian must’ve brought her back to the castle.

“I guess that makes sense,” She said with as much mirth as she could muster, “Heaven couldn’t be this quaint.”

Clearly Sebastian hadn’t found it funny at all, which is why she was met with silence. 

As she cleared her throat, she asked, “What happened?”

For some reason, Sebastian was doing everything in his power to avoid her eye. 

“An Ashwinder hit you with a modified version of the cruciatus curse. She tampered the spell and combined it with a blood poisoning hex. You… could’ve died.” He said through gritted teeth. It seemed as if he struggled to even get the words out. 

In an attempt to diffuse the graveness of his tone, she made a joke.

“Unlucky. Maybe next time they try to kill me they’ll actually get it right.”

But once again, Sebastian didn’t laugh. If anything, he only got more aggrieved. She felt his grip on the edge of her bed frame tighten so fiercely, she could see his veins pop and his knuckles turn red. He was being so serious — and she was not at all used to serious Sebastian. She had only seen this side of him once or twice, and only ever because of Anne. 

“Are you … upset?” She asked cautiously.

“I’m fucking furious.” He said. 

She was gobsmacked.

“Why?”

Finally, he looked at her straight on and her stomach flipped at the sight of it. He looked absolutely distraught. Like the splintered shell of a boy who had been cracked open and drained dry of his will to live. Behind the hard look in his eyes, radiated something cloudy, tempestuous and devastating. 

“It was my fault that we were even there.” He said

She hadn’t known that a voice could carry such grief and anger simultaneously. But Sebastian’s voice was laced with insurmountable despair. And it broke her heart irrevocably to think that she could’ve caused him so much pain.

Did he think that he was to blame?

That was ridiculous.

“I thought-” he started to say again, but his voice cracked. 

I thought I lost you? I thought I’d left you for dead? She wondered if that was what he was going to say.

“Sebastian…” She finally began “It’s not-”

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled.

She winced at the loudness of his voice. 

“I didn’t think-”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?”

His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing. 

She stared at him, mouth agape. 

Sebastian himself looked shocked by the words out of his own mouth. 

Sorry, what was that he just said? 

Was she dreaming? Was she hallucinating? Had Sebastian Sallow really said that he loved her? Her? Complicated, chaotic, haphazard her? Even if her brain couldn’t quite process what she was saying, her heart had certainly understood. It was battering against her ribcage so firmly that she swore it would no sooner burst out of her chest.

“You… love me?” Even as the words sat in her mouth, even as she tasted it meticulously on the edge of her tongue — she still couldn’t believe them. 

With his head buried in his hands, Sebastian groaned. 

Obviously that wasn’t what he had wanted to say, and that terrified the living shit out of her. He looked as if he considered going back on it. Saying that it had just been an emotional slip of the tongue. 

But to her surprise, he stood firm. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, “Isn’t it fucking obvious?”

His words still weren’t fully sinking in. Her brain was running so fast that it was on the verge of failing her entirely. There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Was it obvious? To who exactly? By what egregious definition? And did he expect her to just take his word and say that this little detail was always hidden in plain sight for her to find? 

Then there were other more intrusive thoughts she couldn’t shake. Like what about all the girls that fawned over his every word. What about all the other girls that were softer, prettier, more endearing than her? She just hoped that whatever she chose to say, that she wouldn’t let out the intrusive ones first.

“...What about Samantha?” She blurted practically incoherently.

Oh Merlin. Why did she say that? Why was that the first thing she said to him after she had just been on the verge of death? After he had just confessed his love for her.

Never had she felt so exasperated with herself for being so dumb.

Unsurprisingly, Sebastian looked at her as if she’d just grown three heads. She also considered that maybe she had enunciated so poorly that he hadn’t understood a single thing she said. Either way, just as she was about to laugh it away - change the subject - he responded.

“... What about Samantha?”

Suddenly, she felt too shy to ask. But she knew she had to follow through.

“... You’re not in love with Samantha?” She asked meekly.

Sebastian stared at her in absolute disbelief. 

“Are you crazy?” he began incredulously, “You think I fancy Samantha Dale?”

It wasn’t that crazy of a thought, she wanted to retort. 

But before she could even get a word in, Sebastian bulldozed on.

“Fucking hell. I think I’ve mentioned her name all but three times in the last six years I’ve been in this castle. All I talk about is you all day everyday, which makes Ominis go absolutely livid! All you have to do is say my name and I’d stop everything at the drop of a fucking hat to do literally anything you ask for me—” 

Did he know what he was saying? She wanted to scream. The feelings in her chest were so intense she feared that she might just throw up. 

Could he hear the absolutely ludicrous and inconceivable things coming out of his silly mouth? Did he know what in Salazar’s name he was saying to her? 

And he wasn’t even done yet.

“—I look for you in every hallway, every classroom, every corner in this bloody castle! For Merlin’s sake, I can’t even begin to fathom how you could not know that I’m stupidly love with you—”

Despite herself. Despite the stabbing pain in her chest. Despite the stitches in her lungs. She lunged her body forward and pushed her own chapped, split and desperate lips onto his.

And when their lips met — good God. 

She had no idea how she had waited so long to do this.

And she hoped for his sake that Sebastian hadn’t said any of that lightly, because now that she had finally had him, she was never ever letting him out of her shaky, unpracticed hands. 

At first, Sebastian had been taken aback. His mouth unmoving, eyes open in disbelief. It was as if he was observing the scene from outside of himself.

But then soon enough — he was all in, and he had his hands cupping the curve of her cheek to pull her closer to him. Soon enough, Sebastian was kissing her like he was looking for something. Pushing, pulling, scouring the shape of her mouth like she was a puzzle to be deciphered. Gripping tightly onto the sides of her waist and the small of her back like she was a prized to be possessed.

And she obliged. 

Whatever he wanted to know she’d tell him. If she were a prize, she'd use every cheat every ruse in her arsenal to make sure he'd win.

She just hoped that her needy moans conveyed her willingness to be compliant in his competent hands.

Her limbs ached, her bones groaned. This kiss was too wild, too strenuous, too demanding for her worn out body. But she didn’t care. The floodgates had opened now, whether either of them knew it, and this feeling was unquenchable. 

He tasted like home and aftershave and salt and all those silly peppermint candies he ate all the time. If she could fasten herself to him with an irreversible stitch, she would. If she could seal herself into a perfect mould of his arms, she would. If the shivers that raced down her spine could etch themselves permanently into her nerve endings in her skin, she’d gladly bear the mark.

In between peppered, sloppy kisses, she managed to gasp, "I'm in love with you too."

There was no time for pauses. She had no use for breathing; no use for air. She had no use for anything that didn’t include his lips. 

His laugh was gravelly and tired and breathy. But it was filled with relief and tenderness all the same.

“Thank fucking god,” Sebastian murmured.

Her hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling into the strands of his. She revelled in the texture of him. In her daydreams and her undisclosed fantasies, she had always wondered what it would feel like. Would he be as gentle as his charms implied? Or was he as abrasive as his words could be?

But despite his devouring intensity, despite how ardently he consumed her — everything about Sebastian was soft. His lips were soft. His body was soft. His hands were soft.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back. Which immensely disappointed her. And she wasn’t shy to let it show on her face.

"Be careful. You're still recovering." He managed to get out, but it was weak.

Yes, that was true. It was very lovely and sensible of him to say.

But frankly, she couldn't give two fucks.

"I wouldn't mind dying today," she replied breathlessly, her voice laced heavily with longing.

He groaned into the edge of her mouth, "Way too soon."

She smiled wryly. Was it wicked of her to take delight in how protective he was being?

Silence hung in the air. 

"Please just... just be careful next time?" he said, his voice wavering slightly.

She looked into his eyes, "I will."

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she hoped that he knew that she truly meant it. That by definition, her feelings for him meant that her assurance was very much real. Because if not with words, she needed him to know through this gesture that she too looked for him in every inch of this castle. That she too would drop everything at his beck and call.  

He squeezed her hand back in return.

Message understood?

“And as much as I’d love to keep kissing you," he whispered with a playful glint in his eye, "I would hate for Nurse Blainey to shun me from the infirmary for so shamelessly accosting one of her patients."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, the tension easing between them. "You're right. We wouldn't want that," she replied, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

—

A/N: This is deffo a little different from the normal soft/simpy Seb that I write. I tried to go for overly flirtatious and wildly charming Seb and a pining MC this time to shake things up!! I still think they're cuties.

Gosh, I hope you guys liked it!! I'M STILL WORKING ON OTHER REQUESTS and of course my bb A Knowing Look! They will be taking a while but I promise I will be putting my heart and soul into them.

xoxo gruff

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

hey iit's me again! (can i be your 🌼 anon?)

Thoughts on yan!CEO with caretaker reader who is looking after his sick father (home service i dunno what's it called) and she does some little chores here and there casually. Yan!CEO is so used to seeing her around his mansion that it starts to feel natural along with his father pressuring him to get married because the father thinks he's nearing his end. So when the father really dies tragically (bcoz ✨taruma✨) he only sees reader as his salvation and he convinced that she'd look after him even though she didn't do anything significant with lot of effort.

Yandere! Hospital Chairperson x Caretaker! Reader

OOH MY FIRST ANON! Hi :3

Btw, forgive me, the CEO thing will be changed into something other than, well, CEO. My yandere! CEO is already taken! But, with the help of my friend, we got to a little discussion, and decided on a Hospital Chairperson. Why? You'll see hehe

Yandere! Hospital Chairperson name: Xavier

It's always Xavier.

"Xavier, can you write up the last patient's records?"

"Xavier, please do the time of death."

"Xavier, fetch the files for me please."

It's like he's being worked around like a horse around the hospital.

He has to run up and down the building, right to left on this huge private hospital. Sure, he was a newbie, a fresh graduate from medschool, but did these people had to work him to the bone?

It was almost abusive, the lot of them.

"Father, it's so hard..."

He would usually complain to his father who was the hospital chairperson.

His father laughed lightheartedly before giving a few loving pats on the head. Xavier gripped the handkerchief in his hand.

"it's because they rely on you, Xavier. You're very strong and independent, yet kind and understanding. You are very dependable."

Xavier wanted to protest, that he knew his father was the one to order for him to be ordered around like that, but he pursed his lips.

Xavier Signet. The heir to the hospital conglomerate that is his father. Ever since his mother died, his father did his best to raise him to be a well mannered man despite being absent most of the time due to his job. His father made sure to teach him good manners, to have great academics, and to not be spoiled and always appreciate hard work.

Hard work was something not unfamiliar with the Signets, they were new money after all. From a humble clinic to something as well renowned as the Signet group of Medical Facilities. They were medical practitioners to a tee, and valued other people's lives more than their own.

Xavier gritted his teeth as he held down the fountain of profanities and complaints as his father waved goodbye to him.

Nevermind the handkerchief in his hands, spots of blood in it, a sign on Xavier overworking himself too much.

What his father didn't know is that Xavier is not the angel he thinks he is. His superiority complex that borders on God complex made him boil inside with defiance and insults as he took every single work his higher ups throw at him.

He wanted them dead. So much.

But he can't.

Yet.

Fast forward five years later, and his father lied on the bed, sick and weak.

Xavier bit his tongue while holding his father's cold, wrinkly hand. It was so rough and dry. Obvious from the years of hardwork and patients he had to go through.

"Dad..." Xavier whispered. "You know you can't move already, so please. Let me hire a caretaker for you."

His father coughed, love brimming his eyes for his son.

Xavier matured into a well endowed person. One who was steadfast and an amazing leader, but also a great listener. He's the perfect man for the chairperson seat.

"Alright. You can hire one, son." Ever the fool for his offspring, he nodded.

Xavier hired you, a seemingly gentle and sweet soul, someone who knew how to take care of an elderly.

At first, Xavier was only curt with you. Professional, at most.

He was so busy with his work that most of the time, his relationship with you slips his mind.

It made him open up to you sometimes, while he drank his scotch.

"ah... Those bastards. Really? They want to siphon more money from our patients? Are they out of their mind? Isn't it enough that they stomp on the new residents, but also the patients."

You furrowed your eyebrows, listening to Xavier's whiles.

These were one of the days were you noticed that he drops his nice and angelic facade and into this arrogant, yet empathetic guy.

"Tch. They're not even fucking geniuses. All they do is pocket money, invest, and splurge. They don't give a damn to patients. Like who the fuck do they think they are?!" Xavier rambled more, the scotch making him blurt out his real thoughts onto you.

Sympathetic, you finished folding the clothes of his father and gently walked up to him, and then patted his head with a rub.

Xavier gasped, suddenly feeling that everything was at a standstill, slowly looked up to your peaceful face that was highlighted from the lights of the living room.

Oh god.

"Sir Xavier, those bastards are really something. They're public servants, they should be nice and caring. But all they knew is money." Your sweet voice infiltrated his ears, making his arrogant and superior walls crumble in just a snap.

He was so starved of affection.

Then, your hands caressed his shoulder and rubbed them, making his tense form go away.

Oh god.

And as he grabbed your form and cried into your arms, he knew that things will never be the same.

Xavier rubbed his temples as he listened to the whines of his constituents. Apparently, they wanted to invest in commercial businesses also, but it was a failing start up company with the asking money of 200,000 dollars in exchange of only 10% of the company.

They're seriously fucking him over if they think he'll agree to this obvious scam.

It's been two years since you got in their life.

In his life.

And everyday, he looks forward to coming home into your arms and crashing his low energy body in your embrace.

It was weird, really. At first, he was so stand-offish, but now he was treating you like you were his wife.

That, and also his father continued to pester him to get a wife, since he wanted Xavier to have children before he passes away.

And when he ranted to you about that, you laughed heartily and rubbed his head once more, making him lean into your touch.

"I look like your spouse if you think about it!"

And those words permeated into him, and latched itself into his bones.

Yeah, maybe.

He glared into one of his subordinates and they trembled.

"S-sir, I swear, it's a good investment!" The subordinate said, but their hands are shaking and sweaty.

"No. Get out."

They hastily bowed and ran outside.

Due to your encouragement, he learnt to not hide his true nature and not just grit and bare the shit thrown at him.

"You're the chairperson! And you're just going to let them walk over you?"

You were right. He was at the highest position. So why would he?

So now, he's the one making life a living hell for them. Exacting revenge like a bloodless villain. Even attacking their personal lives.

He worked hard for this position. Too hard. Now it's their time to work hard to maintain theirs.

Then, all of a sudden, his phone rang. He looked at it, and his eyes softened. It was you. With heart emojis in his contacts.

"Hello y/n, how's father?"

But then your panicked voice made him drop everything and drive as fast as possible to your side.

And he saw you crying at the foot of his father's bed, tears streaming down your lovely face as you wept.

His hands trembled.

This time, he's the one to comfort you as he whispered reassuring words.

He looked up at his father's corpse, silently wishing him goodbye as tears also starting to leak from his eyes.

Now he had no one but you.

He held you closer, a numb feeling erupting from his chest as he felt your tears wet his shirt.

Painful sobs of the both of you permeated from this seemingly quiet and cold room, finding one another for comfort from the loss of a dear father figure.

Xavier had to take a break from work.

He felt so numb, leading the wake and the funeral of his father.

As much as he hated him due to his extreme ways of teaching him manners and discipline, he was still his only family left.

His ears rung whenever his father's "friends" sent condolences in a professional, yet fake way.

Time was a concept, and now, he was looking down at his father's grave.

His father didn't want a mosoleum, just a simple grave besides his wife's, Xavier's mother who died in childbirth.

And you were beside him, gripping his hand.

When did the line blur from employer to employee?

Who knows?

But both of you needed each other.

He needed you.

You were the only one left on his side, genuinely.

And he'll be damned to let you go, his only anchor to prevent himself from going apeshit and letting blood spill.

He gulped a cry.

"Y/N, darling, where are you?"

You stilled, hearing his weary voice come from outside of your room. You gripped your clothes and hastily placed all of them in your bag and sliding it under your bed.

"Oh here, Xavier!" Your voice, strained yet giving the outmost genuine tone you could muster. Yet a slight shake can be heard.

"Thank god, I thought you left me. Haha." He opened the door and saw you, sitting on the bed with a wry smile.

He approached you and wrapped his arms around your waist, cuddling close. You bit your cheek.

"Xavier... Um, is it possible for me to go outside to shop?" You asked, rubbing his hair. Wanting a semblance of freedom and a chance to escape.

Xavier's head shot up and he shook his head desperately his grip on you tightening.

"no no no! Silly, definitely not. If you go outside, you'll catch some sickness out there that will probably kill you. And we don't want that, do we? We want you living healthy and long." Xavier desperately reasoned, clinging to you. You bit your lip and nodded slowly.

Ever since his father died seven months ago, he refused to let you go. He was crying, begging for you to stay, for you to take care of him. He even went and upped your salary just for you to stay with him.

But what use is your money if you're essentially locked inside his house?

He refused to let you go at all, scared that you'll get sick and die.

And then he would be truly all alone.

He doesn't want that at all.

He still wants to marry you, to make a family with you. To be with you, his only pillar left.

"I get it, Xavier. I'll stay put." A lump appeared on your throat as you saw his genuine smile of relief.

You were so torn with guilt and desperation for freedom.

You wanted out,

Yet also wanted to stay put and take care of the man.

So, what will you choose?

Spread your wings, while potentially setting off the ticking time bomb that is Xavier, or stay, and accept that being confined in this mansion with no one but Xavier as your only... Friend.

But one thing's for sure.

No matter what you choose,

You'll always end up in his arms.

It's an illusion of choice,

He's always the end game.

[cashandprizes]

The Boring CBT Final for the Fun CBT King - By Lexi Moon aka CashAndPrizes

Okay! People asked and I fought tumblr to deliver!

Hi, I'm CashAndPrizes also known as Lexi Moon, and I am a doctoral student studying clinical psychology. I wrote about Redacted (specifically Lasko) for my final for Cognitive Behavioral Therapies. Here's the paper.

Shout out to my beloved friends in the WhoreHome and W.A.R. for keeping me going through this paper. I love you dearly.

Words of warning:

I am a clinician in training. I am still being supervised. I have not been graded on this final yet. (I'll update when I get it!) And I am definitely not an expert. Take everything here with a grain of salt.

I am not a licensed therapist but even if I was I am not your therapist. I'm play acting as Lasko's therapist for a class. Take everything here with a grain of salt. If you read any of this and think "It's a bit loud in here" do not assume this is absolutely you. If you have the means, please try finding your own mental health professionals and if you don't, please do a lot of research on these subjects. Don't use this as a diagnosis please, I'm just a guy.

I filled in a lot of Lasko's backstory based on my experiences with patients and my beloved Lasko kinnies who were instrumental to the writing of this paper. (I won't tag you and call you out, but you know who you are an I love you.) Your headcanons might be different - that's cool. I'm not claiming canon over most of this - but I did use the transcripts and timeline very heavily.

If you don't like the idea of pansexual, transgender, Indo-Caribbean/Trinidadian child of immigrants Lasko - pookie this might not be for you. If that sounds like your jam though - come on in, the water's fine.

Without further ado. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Mambo Number Five. Here's Lasky. I can, in fact, fix him.

Case Summary

This case conceptualization addresses the hypothetical course of treatment for Lasko Moore, a character in a modern-fantasy audio narrative. Lasko Moore presented to treatment as a 30-year-old pansexual and transgender Indo-Caribbean man working as an administrator and adjunct professor at Dahlia Academy for Magical Novices for persistent anxiety symptoms. Upon intake, Lasko reported experiencing near constant racing thoughts that he was unable to “turn off”, panic attacks, and increased anxiety about social interactions at his work. He described spending a significant amount of mental energy preparing for and reviewing social interactions with colleagues such that he often avoids his colleagues in an effort to minimize his anxiety. Lasko reported that the anticipation around coworker interactions (meetings, socials, etc.) becomes quickly overwhelming as he becomes preoccupied with what he will say and do in an effort to try and minimize his tendency to become hyperverbal and overshare information as well as stuttering. He described this process as starting with embarrassment over previous interactions which leads to critical thoughts like “I shouldn’t be so anxious” which leads to rehearsal of potential outcomes of interactions. However, in the moment of social interactions he becomes so anxious as there “aren’t any objectives [or] any specific roles” to the conversations that he “word vomits” and becomes tangential and overshares until he runs out of breath and stops himself from talking due to his own critical thoughts and begins to isolate himself. 

Lasko was initially diagnosed with Panic Disorder (F41.0) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (F41.1) to capture his persistent anxious state with occasional intense bouts of extreme anxiety and panic. An initial long-term goal was collaboratively set as improving his coping strategies and tolerance of anxious affect to better network and create relationships. As this was Lasko’s first time utilizing mental health services, treatment began with inhibitory learning in combination with Acceptance and Commitment Therapy in order to facilitate willingness to experience interoceptive cues and extinguish avoidance due to fear of negative consequences. This was able to reduce his panic attacks as he felt more able to tolerate overwhelming anxious affect. Despite his clear engagement with treatment through attendance, homework, and skills practice, Lasko continued to struggle with critical thoughts and avoidance of coworkers which he identified as a major barrier to his continued professional development and potential non-academic relationships. Through collaborative exploration, a persistent early maladaptive schema relating to his critical thoughts emerged and treatment shifted to a goal of starting dialogue between schema modes to facilitate the use of coping strategies to build interpersonal effectiveness. Lasko was born as the human-born child of Trinidadian immigrants who moved the southern California in the early 1990s due to political unrest. From an early age Lasko faced high academic expectations from his parents who desired upward mobility for their child and a “piece of the American Dream.” His mother was emotionally labile to the point of explosive outbursts where his father was more passive and spent significant energy working and caring for his wife. This experience started Lasko’s early maladaptive schema regarding rigid standards with no support, which only became worse when Lasko’s elemental powers began developing at thirteen and his parents expected perfect control (and perfect suppression) of his powers with no training and a highly critical environment. This led to Lasko isolating himself at home as much as possible to hide his lack of control but left him with an environment that created a positive feedback loop where his lack of control led to increased yelling and criticism which led to worsening outbursts of his powers. This culminated in a final traumatic event when Lasko was seventeen and lost control of his powers, leading to his mother “calling [him] everything she could think of […] she was so loud and I just wanted her to stop” to the point that Lasko accidentally sucked all of the air out of the room and almost suffocated his mother. Though Lasko was able to find support with the Department of Uniform Magical Practices and become emancipated from his parents, these experiences developed a maladaptive pattern of hypercritical thinking about himself, especially in the context of social relationships.

Research

Avelino Cardoso et al. (2023) pose potential ways to modify and apply Schema Therapy to sexual and gender minorities. This work focuses on understanding how of harmful implicit and explicit messages about gender and sexuality contribute to early maladaptive schemas based on consideration of the minority stress model, and how Schema Therapy interventions can be applied to sexual and gender minorities. One area of particular relevance from this article is the conceptualization of an inner critic mode that specifically represents stereotypes and prejudice that are naturalized by society. When applying these principles to the case of Lasko, the environment of his childhood can be understood as an essential aspect of the treatment. Though Lasko did not present to treatment looking to discuss the impact of his pansexuality and transgender identity, potentially because of the clinician’s own advertised identities, the impacts of systemic oppression against sexual and gender minorities can be woven into treatment for his hypercritical early maladaptive schema. Based on the suggestions of Avelino Cardoso et al. (2023), it may be worth examining his secondary schemas around shame and social isolation as also being shaped by his experience as a gender and sexual minority and how that may contribute to his predominant hypercritical schema. 

A major concern for this section of the paper is the lack of research modifying second and third wave cognitive behavioral therapies for sexual and gender minorities. Results for Acceptance and Commitment Therapy with LGBTQ+ individuals only revealed one article about group therapy and a study proposal; results for Schema Therapy with LGBTQ+ individuals only provided Avelino Cardoso et al.’s (2023) theoretical essay. There does not appear to be much research and what research exists is extremely limited with no randomized control trials. This makes it clear that evaluating the efficacy of treatment for sexual and gender minorities is not a priority, which leads to a major critique of Avelino Cardoso et al.’s work. Though the article is useful for considering how to address systemic change in the room, it seems to attribute lived experiences of sexual and gender minorities to a schema rather than ongoing threats in a world where hate crimes and discrimination against LGBTQ+ individuals is on the rise. The abandonment and violence that these individuals may face is not imagined and it can be seen in the lack of interest in research.

ADDRESSING Model

When considering the case of Lasko, it is important to remember that psychology does not develop in the vacuum of individual experiences – psychology develops based on the global environment, which includes the social, political, economic, and cultural contexts as well as individual context. Utilizing Hays (2022) ADDRESSING Model, the impact of Lasko’s intersecting identities can be understood to have a major impact on his current symptom presentation and the development of early maladaptive schemas and schema modes. Lasko was born to first generation immigrants from Trinidad with strong Indo-Caribbean and Catholic roots – and he was assigned female sex at birth. Using a systems-focused lens, Lasko’s current symptoms can also be understood within the larger context of living in a world where several aspects of his identity are under intense scrutiny and political debate. As a child of immigrants and as someone Indo-Caribbean, Lasko likely faced explicit and implicit messages about his intellectual capabilities, his body, and his work ethic. While Lasko directly experienced his mother as extremely critical and never satisfied with his performance, it is just as likely that he received messages as a child about needing to work harder than many of his same aged peers for equal amounts of recognition based on his racial, ethnic, and sex assigned at birth. There is also the element of the disconnect between his sex assigned at birth and his gender presentation, and the messages he received about being transgender from his Catholic, Trinidadian immigrant parents as well as the American culture – which were likely discouraging at best and hostile at worst. 

Keeping all of this in mind, Lasko’s hypercritical, social isolated, and emotional deprived schemas can be understood as also being a direct result of the intersection of his identities – and this does not even cover the added layer of being an empowered human-born. In a variety of ways, Lasko has had very different experiences than his peers by virtue of being a transgender, pansexual, child of unempowered human immigrants. When Lasko describes feeling different from the people around him growing up and when he entered the empowered world, this is a real experience based on the multiple identity intersections – it is not hard to believe that he did not have many friends or family members between the late 1990s and late 2000s that had similar experiences to him. This left him with the acute sense that he was fundamentally different and needed to work much harder than those around him, and also that to get validation he needed to sacrifice his needs (or identities) for those of others.

Methodology

The initial treatment approach for Lasko was a combination of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy and inhibitory learning with interoceptive and in vivo exposure, which was successful in decreasing his panic symptoms but not generalized anxiety symptoms. Lasko reported that he experienced sudden panic attacks that seemed random and included symptoms such as accelerated heart rate, tightness in his chest, hyperventilation, feeling that he would lose control, sweaty palms, and loss of control over his magic. At the time of treatment, he reported that he had been having at least one panic attack every other month since he was a teenager and that they would occur more frequently when he was in periods of intense stress. After exploration, Lasko was able to determine that he often had panic attacks related when he spends time ruminating in anticipation of social interactions. Lasko explained that during panic attacks he tends to seek quiet, dark places to hide and “ride out” the panic attack and that he has thoughts like “I’m going to mess this up” or “I can’t do this.” 

Treatment started with Acceptance and Commitment Therapy and inhibitory learning as an evidence-based approach for treating panic attacks and generalized anxiety to address his symptoms and reduce further panic attacks as well as his anxious thought patterns (Barlow, 2021; Ruiz et al, 2020). Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) is a therapeutic practice that focuses on improving psychological flexibility and understanding the function of behavioral patterns (Gordon & Borushok, 2017). Much of early treatment with Lasko consisted of psychoeducation around the therapeutic process, behavioral therapy, and mindfulness. He took easily to ACT and benefited from understanding how avoiding social interactions was negatively reinforced by decreasing his anxiety while keeping him from creating connection. Inhibitory learning through multiple types of exposure (in-vivo and interoceptive) was able to make him more comfortable with feeling panicked, effectively reducing his panic attacks (Ramnero & Törneke, 2008). However, his baseline anxious affect and negative thoughts did not ease despite the use of ACT, so treatment shifted towards understanding the function of his persistent negative thoughts through Schema Therapy.

Lasko’s symptom presentation after several sessions of ACT and inhibitory learning was a persistent anxious affect and worry (especially around social situations) that felt uncontrollable and critical ruminative thoughts. As it seemed treatment had plateaued, the content of sessions moved towards a deeper understanding of his critical thoughts based on an indication of deeply held early maladaptive schemas. Barlow defines early maladaptive schemas as persistent behavioral, cognitive, and relational themes developed in early childhood that are reinforced throughout lifetime and that cause significant disruption and dysfunction (2021). Schemas are often viewed as truths about the self and others and are difficult to challenge because of the deep affective component and lifetime of reinforcement (Barlow, 2021). Movement towards schema work started with psychoeducation which involved discussing how schemas are reinforced through modeling (in this case by his mother’s critical comments about his performance) and how people can often act in ways that reconfirm schemas into adulthood. Lasko then completed the Young Schema Questionnaire - Revised and received high scores on schemas related to emotional deprivation, social isolation, and unrelenting standards (Rijkeboer, 2015). During the debriefing and explanation of the results, Lasko reported that when he was completing the questionnaire he felt “really seen” in a way that was uncomfortable but also validating to his experiences in childhood and as a queer person of color living in America.

The topic of sessions then moved towards further psychoeducation about the process of schema work, including delving into his schemas and determining schema modes with the goal of improving his understanding of schemas and working towards healthier integration of modes and coping strategies (Barlow, 2021). Lasko was committed to treatment but apprehensive about “what would come up,” speaking to his concerns about dredging up uncomfortable memories and feelings. In response, he was encouraged to revisit his understanding of ACT and his core values as a reminder of why he wanted to continue treatment and work through feelings of discomfort and grief. The next session started proper schema work, starting with Lasko explaining his understanding of schemas and how they were currently impacting him. He aptly summarized that his childhood experience of feeling intense pressure to do well academically and conform to socially and religiously defined gender roles left him feeling isolated from his peers and that he always needed to work harder and do more, while also feeling as though he had no support or anyone who truly understood him – this led to the development of schemas related to emotional unrelenting standards, social isolation, and emotional deprivation. 

The first step of schema work was to identify schema modes as recommended by Barlow (2021). Lasko completed the Young Schema Mode Inventory (YSMI) as homework (along with his regular thought and feeling records) and scored highly in the following modes: vulnerable child, compliant surrenderer, detached self-soother, punitive parent, and demanding parent (Lobbestael, 2015). With this in mind, the next session started with reviewing his thought and emotion records as a baseline for identifying schema modes. Lasko was able to sort different thoughts and feelings into categories that broadly resembled the categories for child modes, coping modes, and parent modes, but he struggled to come up with names for them. He eventually decided on “Young Lasko” to describe his vulnerable child mode, “The Doormat” to describe his compliant surrenderer mode, and “The Critic” to describe his punitive and demanding parent modes with suggestions from the therapist based on his results on the YSMI. Lasko was overwhelmed with sadness and fear during this session, describing how hard it was to name and admit these schemas out loud and how scared and vulnerable he felt. He reported a heavy weight on his chest and how badly he wanted to hide from the therapist and his own internal experience, and his wavering control over his powers was evident by the rustling of papers in the room. The second half of the session was dedicated to using ACT and mindfulness techniques to sit with the almost intolerable affect without judgement. The session closed with a discussion of how he could focus on his value of self-care after the session and he decided that he had plans to meet with his friend group the next day and try to talk with them about his feelings as a form of self-care and confirming his acceptance in his friend group. 

The following session he reported that his conversation with his friend group had gone “really well, better than [he] expected” and the session started by discussing how this did not conform to his expectations as a way to integrate the initial phase of inhibitory learning into the present. The conversation then moved to re-introducing the names for his schema modes and utilizing a combination of mindfulness skills and reaffirmation of his core values to give a voice to those modes and their needs by recommendation of Barlow (2021). Lasko explored that “Little Lasko” felt “awful, awful all the time” and was a sad little boy trapped in a girl’s body who “[held] onto all the bad stuff” including feelings of being completely isolated from others and deep sadness. Lasko further explored that “The Doormat” was a representation of how he had worked so hard in school and at home to make everyone else happy and that by avoiding his own needs and wants (for self-expression, acceptance, nurturance, joy, etc.) he thought he would get his needs met. At this point in treatment, discussing “The Critic” was still too affectively laden so discussion started with the first two with the goal of working up to “The Critic.” Based on guidelines from Barlow (2021), the next few sessions focused on identifying the ways these schemas had developed within his childhood and how they had once been adaptive and essential for his survival. Lasko’s homework between these sessions was to read handouts given by the therapist about schema modes and the ways they are internalized throughout childhood. Lasko was also willing to try journaling once a week from the perspective of either “Little Lasko” or “The Doormat” to better understand how integral they had been to his survival. 

Session Description

This transcript describes the first part of the schema work, where Lasko began to identify and label schemas with prompting from the therapist. Rather than just using the terms from the YSMI, Lasko was encouraged to create his own meaning to better represent his own understanding of the schema modes based on evidence-based methods from Barlow (2021). The goal of this session was to help Lasko observe the schema modes based on his thought and feeling record from the previous week and start thinking of the modes as parts of him that were observable separate from himself.

Therapist: You’ve summed up schemas and how they work, and I don’t even have anything else to add. Lasko: I really, um, want to make sure you know I’m serious about this. I want to get better, I want to be better. Therapist: It feels like it’s really important for you to feel like I know how hard you’re working right now. Lasko: Yeah, well… Yeah, I don’t want you to think I’m not doing the work. Therapist: It’s interesting because you’re the one paying for sessions, you know? While I’m glad that we are working together towards your goals, what you get out of this is really up to you. Can we talk more about how you want to make sure I know you’re working hard? I think that’s really tied to this whole schema thing I’m trying to sell you on. Lasko: I’m already sold on it!  Therapist: [Hm] Lasko: … That’s… that’s what you mean, isn’t it? Therapist: [Affirmative hm] Lasko: Fuck – sorry – shit! I um… I feel like I need to prove to you that I’m listening and trying really hard. Therapist: What will happen if I think you aren’t trying? Lasko: Well, you won’t take me seriously – at all. You’ll think I’m wasting your time and that I should – I need to be doing more and taking it seriously. Therapist: And how would I be feeling with you? Lasko: Angry, because I’m wasting your time – but I’m not, or I don’t want to. I don’t want to waste your time, you have so many other patients you could be seeing and if I’m not doing what I should be doing then I’m just- I’m taking up space someone else could be using and they probably need it more than me. I mean, I’m fine you know, I’m anxious but I can survive, right? There’re people out there who need your time more than me and I’m wasting it – or I would be. I’m not – I don’t think I’m wasting your time right now except I keep rambling. Therapist: There’s a through-line in there that I want to pull. You feel like you need to do what I expect you to do, right? Lasko: Yeah, I mean you’re the therapist. You’re the expert with – all the experience and degrees. So yeah, I should be doing what you expect. Therapist: It sounds like there’s some part of you that feels like you need to be doing what I say you should do, even if you don’t want to or have something else to say – like your “rambling” – and that if you don’t, you’re wasting my time. Does that feel right?

Lasko: I want to do this, I do. But um, yeah. That feels right. Therapist: And you do what I say you should do because if you don’t…? Lasko: Well I’m wasting your time. And then you’ll – I mean you probably won’t, you’re a really nice person and you’re so helpful but I just… I have this thought that you’ll get mad at me. Therapist: I would be mad at you. What would I do if I was mad at you? Lasko: You would um… Well I know you wouldn’t, because you just – you’re not like that but like my mom would start screaming at me. She would just… she would just yell and tell me that I was wasting their money because I wasn’t doing well enough at the school they paid for me to go to you know? Or I messed up the nice clothes they paid for. Or I just – anything like that really, I was wasting money and time and I was a waste of space and… Fuck – sorry – wait, um. This is hard to talk about and I don’t want to cry. Therapist: This is really hard, I’m really putting you through it already today, aren’t I? Lasko: [Affirmative hm] Therapist: I want to take what you just said and kind of summarize, kind of explain, is that okay? So, it sounds like you have these thoughts that you aren’t trying hard enough – or at least that I don’t think you’re trying hard enough, right? And these thoughts serve to make sure that you show me how hard you’re working so that I believe you, because if I don’t, I might think you’re wasting my time and become angry and yell at you.  Lasko: That’s a really succinct way to put it, but yeah. Therapist: So what I think is happening here, is that there’s a part of you that is so terrified that I will become angry and yell at you and make you feel just awful about yourself. And to deal with that, there’s another part of you that works really hard to try and anticipate and meet my needs so I won’t become angry with you. And then there’s also this third part of you, this part that is so critical and reminds you of how scary I could become if I got angry with you and kind of beats me to the punch by being mean first. And all three of these parts were working together in those last few minutes. Lasko: Wow… yeah, that um… you hit the nail right on the head. That feels right. It’s not – um, it’s not really great for me, though. Therapist: What I’d like to do is start by giving a voice to these parts of you, just letting them speak. Do you think we could do that? Lasko: That… That sounds really awful. But, yeah we can… we can do that. Therapist: And here I am, asking you to do these terrible things you don’t want to do and you’re doing them with me anyway.  Lasko: That’s the um.. that part of me that tries to meet your needs, right? That’s what you said? Therapist: I think so. I really want to hear more from that part of you.

At this point in the transcript, the therapist was using a combination of techniques to try and get closer to the schemas that were indicated in Lasko’s dialogue. There was a mix of rephrasing/restating what Lasko had said with the dual purpose of making sure the therapist understood and phrasing things in a way that would lead to more dialogue about schemas. The therapist in this section also started outlining the core schema modes operating at the moment in broad terms to gauge Lasko’s ability to tolerate and explore them further with the intention of eventually moving towards labeling schema modes. In this section, it is becoming clear that Lasko’s persistent anxiety about the therapy (proving he is engaged enough) is a result of active schema modes that attempt to anticipate and meet the therapist’s needs to prevent criticism and anger on the part of the therapist. This insight from the conversation can be broadened to potentially explain the utility of Lasko’s critical thoughts and anxiety around social interactions – he spends so much time preparing and planning for these interactions to try and anticipate and meet the needs of others to prevent criticism and anger from his peers, the mere idea of which causes deep feelings of fear and sadness, by criticizing himself first.

Therapist: I think so. I really want to hear more from that part of you. Lasko: I mean – geez, what should I say? Therapist: Maybe we could start with what that feels like…? Lasko: It feels like I’m always guessing, trying to figure it out. I feel like I have to do everything right, try harder, do more…I feel like I always need to be doing more, doing it better. Therapist: What emotions does this part of you have? Lasko: Um, I don’t – I don’t know.  Therapist: Do you think I should bring out your old friend the feelings wheel? Lasko: Yeah that might – might help. You know how much I love the wheel. Yeah – um, I guess I feel… inadequate? Maybe… Therapist: Can I suggest something that I’m sensing in you? Lasko: Please, you’re way better at this than me. Therapist: I’m wondering if this part of you feels desperate. Lasko: Yes, desperate. Therapist: Desperate… it feels like there’s more to that. Desperate for what, do you think? Lasko: Desperate… desperate to please – desperate to get it right. Therapist: Wow… desperate to please feels really powerful. I see you rubbing your chest right now, what are you feeling? Lasko: It’s like… my chest feels tight – a little like when I have panic attacks. Therapist: That connection feels really important. What do you make of that? Lasko: I feel – I’ve felt desperate when I’ve had panic attacks before. Like desperate for air, which is just – it’s funny as an air elemental you know, well not funny-funny, but it’s just – anyway, it’s like desperate for air but it’s also like I’m desperate for… I don’t know how to phrase it…? For it to stop, yeah, but also like I… I want to do things right when I talk to people but I always fuck it up – sorry – wait, don’t apologize Lasko. Sorry, I – sorry – fuck. I just- I want to have better interactions with people! I want things to go better and to communicate better so people like me and – I don’t know. Therapist: So people like you… do you think that’s what this part of you wants? Lasko: Yes – so badly… So badly it hurts. Therapist: It hurts in your chest, right there? Lasko: Yeah… it’s tight and heavy and then I start crying because I’m just – I’m a mess. Therapist: You’re feeling so much right now, and you’re doing it because I said we should. Lasko: Well… yeah, it’s um – it sucks but you know better than me. Therapist: That seems to be a thought you have a lot, we’ve talked about it before on your thought and emotion records – and I think it’s really tied to this part of you. Lasko: I mean… maybe, yeah. Therapist: What do you think you could name this part? How do you think we could refer to it? Lasko: Like a name? What kind of name…? Therapist: It’s really up to you, I think it’ll be more helpful to use whatever you think is the best way to describe it rather than my clinical-ese jargon.  Lasko: I don’t… I don’t really know. I’m not good at this kind of thing. Can’t you – you can just name it, right? Therapist: I could, but I feel like if I name it we’re staying in this pattern where you just acquiesce to my demands. Lasko: Which is like – the whole point of this, yeah. Therapist: Exactly. What feels hard about thinking of a name? Lasko: I don’t – I don’t want to pick some stupid name that I have to use, and you’ll think “wow that was a really stupid name choice, I should have picked it.” Therapist: [Hm] Lasko: Yeah, you don’t have to say anything, I hear it. Also, I just… naming it feels so real, you know? Then it’s a real thing. Therapist: And there’s something about it being “a real thing” then? Lasko: Then I’d… I’d have to talk about – acknowledging all of it – that feels really awful. I feel like I can’t breathe right now. Therapist: I can feel the air becoming thin too. Why don’t we take a few moments and just notice how you’re feeling and breathe through it?

This section of the transcript starts to explore and move towards labeling the schema mode of the Compliant Surrenderer. This mode attempts to anticipate and meet the needs of his hypercritical Punitive and Demanding Parent mode to protect his Vulnerable Child mode, which becomes clear in the transcript as he verbalizes that this part of himself is desperate to do well (whatever that may look like) so that others will like him. Just sitting with this part of himself causes Lasko almost intolerable feelings of desperation and panic, likely due to his fear of his Punitive and Demanding Parent mode as well as a fear of criticism and rejection from the therapist.

Closing Thoughts

I really enjoyed this case and this paper. While I didn't choose a current patient, I feel that I got a lot out of this assignment. It was really interesting to think formally about a character and work through a treatment plan and focus on a specific element of treatment. I managed to pick a case where I got to implement schema therapy, which is one of the forms of CBT that I find most interesting in addition to ACT. Despite this being a fictional character, I have certainly had previous patients who have similar struggles – and I also felt that I was able to use the media (and my previous experience to fill in gaps) to make the most of this assignment for my learning.

As I was working on this case, it occurred to me that though I felt like I was able to portray this character as accurately as possible I felt like so much was missing or unaccounted for. Because I was working from a CBT rather than psychodynamic lens, I felt like there were clear points where I would have ideally worked more relationally to address resistance or spoken more about the therapeutic relationship. There are always a million different things you could pick out of a patient’s response to respond to, and it was challenging to focus more on the schemas rather than talk about the relationship. I also felt like because of the limits of this paper, I did not have enough space to talk in the methodology or transcript session about how I felt his identities played a part in the development of his schemas. In this example, it was very clear to me that Lasko’s experiences of his parents were only part of the equation as development does not exist in a vacuum – there is a reality that his identity as a pansexual, transgender, Indo-Caribbean, second-generation immigrant and his experiences of xenophobia, racism, heterosexism, and transphobia would have also impacted his feelings of isolation/difference from others and internalized pressure to present and perform well. I also think that this would have been something I discussed in subsequent sessions as I believe this is another function of his schemas – to protect and prepare himself from his experiences of a hostile, sometimes violent world.

References

Avelino Cardoso, B. L., Paim, K., Figueiredo Catelan, R., & Liebross, E. H. (2023). Minority stress and the inner critic/oppressive sociocultural schema mode among sexual and gender minorities. Current Psychology, 42(23), 19991–19999. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12144-022-03086-y 

Barlow, D. H. (2021). Clinical handbook of psychological disorders: a step-by-step treatment manual. Sixth edition. New York, The Guilford Press.

Hays, P. A. (2022). Addressing Cultural Complexities in Counseling and Clinical Practice: An Intersectional Approach. Fourth edition. Washington DC: American Psychological Association.

Lobbestael, J. (2015). Validation of the Schema Mode Inventory. In M. van Vreeswijk, J. Broersen, & M. Nadort (Eds.), The Wiley‐Blackwell Handbook of Schema Therapy: Theory, Research, and Practice (pp. 541–552). Wiley-Blackwell. 

Ramnero, J., & Törneke, N. (2008). ABCs of human behavior: Behavioral principles for the practicing clinician. Oakland, CA: New Harbinger & Reno, NV: Context Press.

Rijkeboer, Marleen (2015). Validation of the Young Schema Questionnaire. In M. van Vreeswijk, J. Broersen, & M. Nadort (Eds.), The Wiley‐Blackwell Handbook of Schema Therapy: Theory, Research, and Practice (pp. 531-540). Wiley-Blackwell. 

Ruiz, F. J., Luciano, C., Flórez, C. L., Suárez-Falcón, J. C., & Cardona-Betancourt, V. (2020). A multiple-baseline evaluation of acceptance and commitment therapy focused on repetitive negative thinking for comorbid generalized anxiety disorder and depression. Frontiers in Psychology, 11. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2020.00356 

Home. (n.d.). Redacted Audio. Retrieved May 5, 2024, from https://redacted-audio.com/

Appendix

Character and Media Primer

Redacted Audio is an urban-fantasy audio narrative on YouTube that centers around the fictional city of Dahlia in southern California and its inhabitants (“Home”, n.d.). In this urban-fantasy world, people are separated into four categories: unempowered humans; empowered humans, which can be further broken down into elementals and energetics (people with control over the four elements, gravity, sound waves, magnetics, psychokinesis, telepathy, seers, or a jack of all trades) and shifters (e.g.: werewolves); vampires, who are turned unempowered or empowered humans that feed on blood to survive, have superhuman speed and senses, and cannot go out in the sun; and demons, beings of pure magic that are not necessarily evil or good. The character I have chosen is an empowered human who was born to unempowered human parents – a human-born – which is a rare kind of person who often faces discrimination and barriers to learning how to control their magic. Lasko is an administrator and adjunct faculty member at the Dahlia Academy of Magical Novices, which is essentially magical community college where students (of any age) can learn mastery over either their specialty or all aspects of empowered human magic. The Dahlia Academy of Magical Novices operates as a school under the larger Department of Uniform Magical Practices, which oversees magical practices, ethics, and maintains the covert status of magic. Lasko specifically has natural control over the element of air, giving him an increased lung capacity and control over air (making wind currents, taking air out of the room, making tornados, etc. – think air benders in Avatar: The Last Airbender if you are familiar), but chose to complete his full certification at The Dahlia Academy of Magical Novices to have a better understanding of all types of magic. He teaches an introductory class on magic for incoming students as a way to provide a less discriminatory experience for other human born students.

ACT Hexaflex

YSQ-R Table

YSMI Table

That's all, folks!