#also. let me hold out. but ALSO my therapist DID change our appointments from every other week to only 2 sessions per month. heh. maybe she

[rupertholmes]

resisting the urge to buy weights rn. i need to go bear mode.

[ijustwant2write]

The Miracle Question-Bucky Barnes x Reader

(GIF credit to @sebastianruinedme​)

Summary: When Bucky doesn’t tell (Y/N) that he missed his appointment, nearly getting into trouble with the government, she becomes furious and upset with him. She demands to have a session with him, wondering if their relationship is as stable as they thought it was, and if it’s actually making Bucky worse. To add to her anger, the new ‘Captain America’ decides to step in.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic), John Walker x Reader (acquaintances), Lemar Hoskins x Reader (acquaintances)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Mentions of therapy, arguing, slight violence, fluff

                                  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Why would he do something like this and not tell me? He was doing so well with his appointments, and although I knew he wasn't enjoying them, at least he was going so he could get them over and done with. We hardly spoke of them, he was never the one to bring up the topic, it was always me; I just wanted to know how he was doing, I cared for him so much, and it was hurting me to think he wasn't able to open up.

"Sam." I got his attention as I briskly walked into the police station.

"Hey," he could see I was upset, immediately using a calmer tone,"he's alright. His therapist is here, she's got everything sorted."

"But why did it take me watching a video on twitter of my boyfriend being arrested to know about this?"

No one had called. Surely I was one of his emergency contacts? And if I (bizarrely) wasn't, why hadn't Sam called me?

Sam sighed."He didn't want you to know. He missed an appointment he had to go to and-"

"Didn't want me to know?!" I raised my voice, not caring if I grabbed the attention of anyone around us.

Sam held up his hands, trying to quieten me."Look, I'm not getting involved with your personal matters. That's up to you two. Just keep your voice down, we are in a police station."

I scoffed in disbelief."Why didn't he want me to know? He knew I would be angry, but I would never argue about it with him, or make him feel bad about it. I would support him."

"I know you wouldn't, and so does he. Bucky is still getting used to opening up, even with you. He just doesn't want to hurt you."

“Sam,” an older woman interrupted us,“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Doctor Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

They shook hands.“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Raynor put her attention on me, also shaking my hand.“You must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the girlfriend. I’ve also heard a lot about you.”

“You have? Oh, didn’t think he would talk about me that much.”

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam quickly interjected. 

“Oh, that was not me.”

“Christina!” another voice called out.

We all turned to see who called, and I almost rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. John Walker, the new ‘Captain America’, was headed our way, almost swaggering. People immediately wanted pictures which he agreed to, and although I know Steve might have done the same in some cases, it wouldn’t be a priority for him, nor would he look like was was enjoying it. Although I didn’t want to judge others before knowing them, America had given the title to some random man, forgetting that Steve was not only a hero, but a friend and family to people like us. 

“It’s great to see you again.” Walker said as he shook someone’s hand.

“You gotta be kidding me, you know him?” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.”

“Heard you were working with Bucky so I thought I would step in.” he said as he approached.“Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who’s authorised this?”

“Um...” he smiled as he gestured to himself.

Who was he to come in here and change everything? Bucky was doing well in his therapy sessions...or at least I assumed he was, we never spoke about it. And I hated the way he called him ‘Bucky’; only close ones were allowed to call him that. 

A loud buzzer sounded throughout the station, and I whipped my head around, relieved to see Bucky walking out with two police officers. I no longer listened to Walker, running towards my boyfriend. He easily caught me as I threw my arms around him, not caring that the policemen escorting him out were watching.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, seeming both worried and annoyed.

“Bucky, you got arrested! I had to come see you, make sure you’re OK. Why didn’t you get someone to call me? Also, why did you miss your session anyway?”

“It’s a long story. And it’s not worth telling.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s eye line was now on Walker as he shouted over his shoulder,“I’ll be outside.”

Before I could say anything else, Dr. Raynor spoke,“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam and (Y/N).”

“That’s OK. I’ll be out here with-”

She interrupted Sam.“That wasn’t a request.”

Bucky was silent as he slid away, reluctantly following the doctor. I tried holding his hand, but he was making it difficult to even grab it in the first place. My heart sank at the thought of Bucky not wanting me there, not even wanting to be comforted. When these sessions first began, he would come home and want to be held, be comforted; sometimes he asked if he could hold me, just to ensure that I was there with him, that I could feel safe in his arms. That was happening less and less now, it scared me to think he didn’t want this relationship anymore. 

We were sat in an interrogation room, Dr Raynor on one side and two chairs on the other. She told Bucky and I to sit first, and that she would deal with Sam later. Nerves suddenly washed over me, petrified of what sort of answers Bucky was going to give.

“OK, so we can all sense a lot of tension in this room. And although I’m going in a slightly unprofessional route, I feel that we all need to do this to ensure you are all OK, that is my job after all. So, who wants to go first?”

She looked between me and Bucky. Part of me wanted to get the confrontation out of the way, perhaps that would make things go quicker and we would get out of here sooner. But my fear held me back. 

“No volunteers? Wow, that’s surprising. Okay. We’re going to do any exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what sort of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

I nodded.“Yes.”

“No.” Bucky answered at the same time. 

“OK, it goes like this. Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?”

Shit, that was deep. There’s a million things I could think of that I wanted with Bucky. We used to talk about it all the time. He wanted security in knowing that I wanted a life with him, and I wanted the same, hoping that one day it would happen. Glancing at him, Bucky was slouched in the chair, staring at his hands folded together on his lap. It didn’t look like he was going to be saying anything soon, so I took the first step.

“Um...” I started, unsure how to word this.“I would want to take away any suffering Bucky has gone through, so that he could have a somewhat normal life, and didn’t have to force himself through things like this. No offence doctor. That way he wouldn’t have to feel pressured into opening up and he would tell me anything that was on his mind.”

“That’s a good start.” Raynor slowly said.“And it’s a very sweet sentiment, but it’s what you want, (Y/N).”

“That is what I want. All I want is for Bucky to be happy, I love him.”

“Again, very sweet, I know you care about him very much. But let’s try looking at it a different way. You want your miracle to be that James opens up more. That he lets you into the side of his life you don’t get to see in person.”

“I...I guess.”

“You feel left out of the equation, because James won’t express how he’s feeling?”

“Yeah, when you put it like that, that’s what I want. I want my boyfriend to be able to feel like he can tell me anything, no matter how gruesome, traumatic or even little it is.”

“Right. Glad we got there in the end. OK James, your turn.”

I watched in anticipation for Bucky to speak. What if I had messed things up? What if that was the opposite of what he wanted? 

“My miracle would be...not having you involved in that side of things.”

He didn’t even look at me as he spoke. He also didn’t look phased by his answer. So his miracle would be to not have me know about a huge part of his life? He was a hero for god’s sake! Why was he shutting me out? What had I done to deserve this? Had I hurt him in some way that made him feel that he couldn’t talk to me anymore?

“What? Bucky, have I done something to upset you?”

“I just think it would be easier for both of us.”

“You know I’m always here for you, right? We’ve spoke about this before, I don’t understand why you’re only expressing this now.”

Raynor tried to get us back on track.“Alright you two, I think we need to dissect this-”

“I’m sorry doctor but I would like Bucky to elaborate more on this matter, because I’m not fully understanding.”

“What’s not to understand?” he finally looked at me, but I hated this expression. It was as if I had asked the stupidest question in the world.

“Bucky, why are you being like this? You used to tell me about everything, what’s changed?”

He didn’t answer. I just scoffed, hastily grabbing my handbag and coat.

“(Y/N), please sit down.” Raynor asked. 

“I can’t. I can’t sit here and wait for an explanation that I’m not going to get. Just focus on the two heroes, I’ll find out about all of this never.”

I rushed out of the room, breathing heavily as I tried not to cry, but my eyes were already watering. Ignoring looks from people in the waiting room, I couldn’t stop myself from starting to cry. Although I had every reason to be upset that my boyfriend wasn’t communicating with me anymore, I also felt slightly guilty for just storming out of there. Maybe we would have resolved it. 

“Miss, you OK?” 

Oh, I did not want to deal with Walker right now. He would only piss me off.

“Do you need help? We can provide assistance if you need it.”

Although I had wanted to walk away, I knew I should have, my feet were already leading me towards him. I was embarrassed that I was still crying, but I tried to block that from my mind by now. He was leaning against a police car with his friend, who’s name I hadn’t bothered learning.

“You don’t look so good, shall we get a cop to drive you home?”

“Who do you think you are?!” I snapped.

“Well, I’m Captain America-”

“No, you’re someone who thinks they’re anything close to what Steve was. He didn’t go around introducing himself as Captain America, He didn’t care about the title. I understand you’re under a lot of pressure Walker, Steve has a huge legacy to live up to. But don’t you dare come waltzing in expecting those two amazing men to immediately work alongside you like nothing has changed.”

“You got all of that out of your system?”

My eyes widened at him.“Are you serious right now?”

“Look,” his friend butted in,“we just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get mixed up in this. We’re dealing with something major here, it could effect the whole world.”

“Sorry, but who are you?”

He rolled his eyes.“Come on man, how many times? It’s Battlestar.”

My face remained emotionless.

“Lemar Hoskins? You know, the new Captain America with his-”

“I don’t think she cares.” Walker explained. 

“You think I don’t know anything about trying to save the world? My friends are part of the Avengers, my boyfriend fought against Thanos. He disappeared in the Blip and I was left by myself wondering if he would ever come back. I’ve been targeted, I’ve seen aliens close up. Nothing could effect me now.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve had to endure that.”

“Do you two just not listen to anyone but yourselves?”

“(Y/N), listen,” Walker dared to put his hand on my shoulder,“you’re a normal citizen like us. No super powers, no hidden strength, yet here you are with a super soldier that’s over a hundred years old! I mean, do the maths here, you could have walked away from all this danger. And yet, here you are, by yourself at a police station, whilst your boyfriend cares more about his ‘job’ than making sure you’re safe.”

That was it, the last straw. I slapped his hand off of me, preparing to punch him square in the face, when someone pulled me back.

“No (Y/N)!” Sam raised his voice as he made sure to distance me away from Walker. He quickly stood in between us. 

“What did you do, Walker!?” Bucky quickly stormed over.“Did you touch her?!”

Sam was desperately trying to diffuse the situation, knowing that people could be watching.“Bucky, calm down.”

“Did he do anything to you?” Bucky asked me quietly, his hands cupping my face as he looked over me.

My heart raced at the gesture, forgetting for a second that I was upset with him. I shook my head with his hands still on me, and they slid down my arms, one wrapping around my waist to keep me close to him. 

“I didn’t touch her Bucky, I was just trying to....you know what, it’s not even important. Can we talk, privately?”

“(Y/N) is staying.”

Walker sighed.“Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

“So what do you got?” Sam said.

“Well the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

Lemar spoke up.“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.” 

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker added.

“Well, there are a lot of those all over the planet since the Blip.” Bucky pointed out.

“Hundreds probably.” I said. 

“So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

Walker smirked.“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?”

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”

“No, we don’t know, Bucky.” Walker was agitated.“It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

Bucky had to push his buttons even more.“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

Sam came to stand between us and Walker.“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorization you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

Sam and Bucky turned away, Bucky guiding me with him. Walker called after us.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

I instantly became defensive.“What the hell is that supposed to mean-”

“It’s OK.” Bucky reassured me, making sure I didn’t go back. Frustrated that Walker got the last word, I hesitantly followed my boyfriend. 

“Hold up,” Sam stopped us,“I think you two need a quick chat before we delve into anything else. You both know that this is something big, we don’t know what we’re fully dealing with yet or how to fix it. Before we do all of that, you two better resolve whatever happened back there. I’ll be waiting Buck.”

We both watched Sam walk away, unsure how to start this conversation. He clearly showed that he still cared for me back there, but should I still be worried that our relationship was headed in a rocky direction?

“You OK?”

“Honestly? No, not really.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Do you realise how much you hurt me back there? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t speak to me anymore. And about me not being involved; what do you think the last years have been like? I know everything, you’ve expressed so much to me, opened up about your past. Why has that suddenly changed?”

“Because we have a chance now. The world is...relatively back to normal. I got an opportunity to make sure you’re safer, keep all of these nightmares away from you, not pass on my torture to you.”

“Bucky...what have the past years been for? Nothing needs to change. Just because things are getting back to how they used to be, it doesn’t mean we need to forget about the past. If I don’t know what’s going on with you, how can I look after you? How can I help you?”

“You shouldn’t have to do this-”

“I already made that decision when I knew I wanted to be with you. But we can’t revert back to how it was Bucky, not after all the work and effort we put in.”

“I’m sorry. I really thought I could make everything better.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand.“They already were. I know whatever you’ve got yourself into is big, but I’m here for you Bucky, I always will be.”

“I’m sorry again, I’ll make sure I keep opening up to you. That’s the least you deserve.” 

I went on my tip toes to kiss him, still worried despite everything he had said. Bucky was still fragile, but now he was on another mission. I wasn’t sure if it was the best thing for him, something for him to focus on. Or it could send him in a spiral, and I wouldn’t know anything about it. I had to stay close to this mission, even if it meant I was in danger. Though what would change there? I had to keep an eye on him, I had to make sure he was OK. I loved him too much to let him slip back into the dark.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

Disclaimer that I am not a therapist nor bipolar but I have had a therapist so I’m hoping it’s not too awful of a depiction. Also want to add a minor content warning for the ending scene for homophobia, nothing explicit or even verbal, just a woman with an icky vibe.

Wednesday, 16:04

Song: Haux - Youth

Sander tips his head against the back of the couch and stares at the fan in the corner. It drones in slow circles, doing little more than disturbing the air right in front of it. It still makes the air in the room chilly enough that Sander is glad he’s wearing a sweater, though.

Between it and the window is an ‘abstract’ painting of the brain. Abstract in that the supposed organ is actually scattered in pieces throughout the canvas, all in various states of destruction. One has trees growing out of it, for example. Another is on fire; it’s Sander’s favourite.

He’d stared at it with an absurd sort of fascination in his first session, almost two years ago now, and his therapist, Agathe, had simply smiled at him and asked if he liked art. It was a sneaky way in, but he supposed that was the point. These meetings have gotten fewer and farther apart over that time, now that he can supposedly manage himself to a high enough standard on his own. Well, not quite enough, he supposes, or he probably wouldn’t be here at all. He can practically hear Agathe’s rebuke that they are just ‘casual check-ins’, and Sander is free to go whenever he pleases.

At every one of those reminders, Sander debates doing exactly that—getting up and going. Instead, he usually ends up slumping sullenly for a few minutes before Agathe prods her way back in.

They haven’t been mandatory in a long time, these sessions, but now there’s just something...reassuring. There are still times he doesn’t bother making an appointment, but knowing he can, and knowing that someone with the right knowledge doesn’t see any reason to worry about him, leaves a pretty damn good sense of relief.

And he did have a bit of a blip, at the start of the year. A few days in which he had to be prodded and coerced into just taking a drink of water, and had spent the majority of in his room. It had overlapped the holidays, so he’d let Robbe come and cocoon himself with him for a good chunk of the time.

It hadn’t made him better. But it made him...safe, or something similar, and that was the most he could hope for.

It was the coming-out-of-nowhere aspect that had shaken him a bit. He’d felt better, just keeping up his sessions then, being sure that he was at least doing alright with his medication. It’s working okay, the sitting and talking, so he shows up and just lets Agathe keep making sure.

The door cracks open now and she slips back in, dropping into the couch across from Sander and shooting him her usual calm, too-happy smile through light lipstick. It brings out her dimples. She’s not yet marred by wrinkles, but there’s something soft and aging about her face, anyway. Maybe it’s the graying roots. “Sorry about that, I forget this thing way too often.” She holds up the clipboard she’d carried in with an exasperated sigh, murmuring under her breath as she flicks through it and gets settled.

It’s all painfully familiar. It makes Sander smile.

He does like her. He’s never bothered denying that.

“So, how are we today?” It’s the same way she always starts, though it’s usually accompanied by—ah, there we go—clasped hands and another smile.

“Good,” Sander says. It’s automatic, but he also means it. Today is fine. It’s good.

She raises her brow when he doesn’t offer anything else. “Alright, good. Belated birthday wishes are in order, I believe?”

“Yeah, thank you. Just yesterday.”

She nods, and Sander does not think about how that was dumb when she obviously already knows. But she just settles back and crosses her legs. “Did you do anything to celebrate?”

Sander’s lips finally stretch in a smile of his own. He thinks it’s probably a little dopey, a little lovestruck, and she probably knows exactly what he’s going to say before he opens his mouth. “I had breakfast with my parents because Robbe took me out for dinner. Then he had a surprise party planned at our friends’ flat.”

“A party on a school night?” Agathe’s brows raise, and she shakes her head with a small laugh. “How do they deal with that today?”

“No clue,” Sander breathes out a huff of his own, trying not to feel overly amused by how Gilles had been in the class they shared with Sander earlier in the day. For once, they hadn’t said a word, just sat with their head down for the entire lecture, wincing every now and then when Sander laughed. He hadn’t even heard from any of the others, but Robbe had looked dead on his feet this morning, as well. He’d sent Sander a slightly sunnier selfie about half an hour ago, though, so he’s probably fine. “Not very well, I imagine.”

She tilts her head. “You seem well enough.”

“Well, I wasn’t drinking,” Sander shrugs.

At this, her serene little smile returns and her nod seems approving, and even though Sander hadn’t been looking for it, he grudgingly admits that it feels good. “I know that can be a difficult choice, and I’d rarely be able to make it myself,” she laughs again. “It’s great that you feel strong and comfortable enough in that group to do your own thing.”

Sander can’t help a little snort. “Are you kidding? It was one of them that had me drinking mocktails.”

“Really?” Agathe grins.

“Yeah, but then he got kinda drunk, and the last couple he made me were just disgusting because he thought these awful mixtures would be a really good idea.”

She laughs gently. “Well, it seems like it’s not the worst. ‘He’ isn’t Robbe?”

Sander shakes his head. “No, but one of his friends.”

“And what about Robbe, then? How is he?”

“Good.” A soft smile steals over his face. “The best, as always.”

“Treating you well.”

Sander’s smile widens, and he raises his brows without saying anything.

Agathe points at him. “Not what I meant, and not what I need to know.”

“I thought we can talk about whatever I want in here,” Sander says innocently.

“Alright, then,” she acquiesces. “Tell me all about it.”

Sander blanches. He thinks about it, opens his mouth, and then thinks about it some more. Closes his mouth again.

Her smile is downright devious. “That’s what I thought.”

He huffs. “It’s very healthy, just so you know.”

“I am sure.”

“Explorative. Always consenting, of course. Frequent.”

“All very normal and well for teenage boys,” she nods, and it would be completely serious if Sander couldn’t see her eyes twinkling. She pauses. “Although, I can’t call you that anymore. How does it feel to be twenty?”

Sander narrows his eyes. “Nice change of subject.”

“Oh, if you had more to say, please continue. Just a thought that occurred to me, I don’t mean to steer you, you know that.”

He does know that, and it makes him pause, because. How does it feel to be twenty? He realises he hasn’t thought about it. He realises that’s probably a good thing—that he didn’t get stuck on his birthday this year, that it was something he just enjoyed. Maybe it was simply going to sleep next to Robbe that helped, but no anxiety had taken over at the end of the day.

Even after his conversation with Jens. It’s not the most prominent part of the day of Sander’s mind even now. Instead he finds himself tucking his hand into his pocket and grasping Robbe’s key, running his thumb over the already familiar ridges.

He hadn’t even been worrying about his major fuck-up with his assignment. He’s still not.

He’s not really giving himself the chance.

Should he be?

“It feels the same as being nineteen,” he says finally. “I didn’t become a different human in a day, sadly.”

He can see her latching on. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“‘Sadly’?”

“It’s just...a joke.”

“Okay. But why do you think it’s funny?”

It annoys him, because she’s not judgmental. She’s neither amused nor disappointed. Just curious, earnest, all focused and attentive as she gazes calmly, patiently at Sander. Even his attempt at throwing her off, making her awkward, hadn’t shaken her. She remains unfazed, as always. It’s annoying.

“I don’t,” he admits, “I guess. I don’t know what I’d consider it.”

Agathe nods, softening in her understanding, and it makes something twist in his chest. “Are you not happy with the human you are, Sander?”

He gives her a bland look. When she keeps waiting, he shrugs, gesturing at the room.

“I know,” she says gently, “that of course, you feel you would be happier without your illness. But who you are now—what you study, what you’re passionate about, who you surround yourself with, how you live your life day to day. Do you wish all of that was different?”

Sander doesn’t have to think about it quite as much. “No. But I—“

He cuts himself off, hesitating. She raises her brows and nods, prompting him onwards but not pushing. If he really wants to wait her out, she’ll move on.

“I just wish that it was easier,” he says.

She tilts her head. “Easier how?”

“I messed up. At college. I completely missed an assignment because I mixed up the dates with another one.”

She winces in sympathy. “And what happened in that case? Does that mean that assignment is marked as a fail?”

“No,” Sander admits. “He gave me the time I thought I’d have to do it. Marked it down as an extension. It’s due on Friday now.”

“And is it going alright?”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t struggling with it too much?”

“No.”

“Then it seems like a fairly simple mistake. Easy to make and also, thankfully, easy to fix for you. It’s not unusual. But do you see it as an effect or consequence of your illness? Is that why it bothers you?”

Sander is quiet.

She sets her clipboard aside and leans forward, clasping her hands again as she considers him. “You have to remember, Sander, that all humans are not without fault. That regardless of who we are or what we may have to deal with, we will inevitably make mistakes. Not every slip up is a reflection of you, or a sign of failure, of failing health. You’ve actually been doing very well for a long time, now. But this belief, or this worry, that it is taking a hold of you again can sometimes help it take on that direction. Do you know what I mean?”

He takes a moment to absorb the words before nodding, knowing that if he answers too quickly she won’t believe he’s listening. But he does know. He understands. He hates that she’s probably right.

“So in a situation like this,” she continues, “do you not think, that it is more beneficial for you to focus on correcting your mistake and the fact that you have that ability? Not only mentally, but overall. That your professor is so understanding must mean he thinks well of you.”

He shouldn’t ask. He does anyway, quietly. “You don’t think it’s just pity, or something?”

“No,” she huffs. “No, I do not. Did he give you the impression that that was why he was doing it?”

Sander rolls his shoulders, adjusting his position. “No.”

Her smile returns. “I think,” she says slowly, “that this all shows just how well you’re doing. That you can acknowledge your doubts are likely just that—doubts—and that you take responsibility when you mess up and try to rectify it. Do you not think those are all good things? Things just as healthy as your sex life?”

It shocks a laugh out of him, and he sees her eyes crinkle. “Maybe,” he allows. “But it really is very healthy. I don’t know if anything else should be forced to live up to the standard.”

She represses a smile. “I remember there was a time when you would never have even spoken about this in such a kind way.”

She’s right. It still freaks him out, sometimes, the hypersexuality that can be induced by his mania, and it even made him hold back from Robbe after his episode, at the beginning. The last thing he wanted was to freak Robbe out, or disgust him, or make him uncomfortable. Then Robbe had seemed downtrodden for about a week before hesitantly asking Sander if he’d done something wrong or if Sander wasn’t actually attracted to him, and Sander had corrected his doubts and behaviour fairly quickly, because how dare the most beautiful boy in the universe think that?

“How do you feel you’re doing, Sander?” Agathe asks. “Because although I can observe, only you can feel what you feel. If you are genuinely worried, we can talk about it.”

“No,” Sander admits, after a moment. “I think everything is okay, actually.” Which is the best it can ever be, really.

Now her smile is genuinely happy. “I think so, too. And I think, even if it comes about that it’s not, you have a better support than ever. Do you agree?”

That one’s easy. “Yes.”

“It’s important to remember,” she adds, “maybe more than anything else, that if a lapse or an episode or whatever does occur, it’s not the end of the world. It’s also not a reflection of you, or a failure. Bad days, bad weeks, that’s all a part of life, and something we know you’re more than capable of dealing with and getting past. I’ve watched you do it many times before now and it’s an admirable, wonderful thing.”

Sander doesn’t actually know what to say to that. He just swallows, and feels oddly emotional, and offers her a slight nod.

The rest of the session passes in a lighter atmosphere. She lets him ramble about his assignment to alleviate what stress he does feel over it, and they spend the leftover minutes discussing his party.

Sander considers talking to her about the other thing on his mind, but ultimately decides against it. She’s already taught him how to work through that, and he really doesn’t think it will help to be putting it back into open air. Instead he leaves with a fairly upbeat farewell, and heads in the opposite direction from home.

Robbe had texted him about where he was meeting with Yasmina for a study session, and it takes Sander less than ten minutes of walking to get to the small cafe from his appointment. He sees the two of them as soon as he enters, but neither of them notice him, so he moves to the counter to buy himself a coffee before making his way over.

He’s a couple of feet away when Yasmina catches sight of him and offers her bright smile, and then Robbe is looking over his shoulder.

“Hello,” Sander greets them both, grinning as he cups Robbe’s cheek and leans down to kiss the crown of his head. “I can see we’re very busy.”

Robbe has his hand wrapped around Sander’s wrist, preventing him from pulling away. He turns his head and presses a sweet kiss to Sander’s palm, nuzzling lightly against it. Sander lets his fingers slip over and tug gently on the boy’s earring before Robbe tangles their hands together and offers Sander his crinkly smile. “Hi.”

“Not anymore, I guess,” Yasmina says dryly, but she’s still grinning when Sander glances back at her.

He raises his hands; well, his free one. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He hadn’t, really, he’d just wanted to be here when they were done to take Robbe home. He always likes being in the other boy’s company after a therapy session. Despite them not being quite so heavy at the moment, it’s always draining. Robbe is always able to replenish him with soft touches and soothing kisses, providing Sander with a silent, comforting company.

“Don’t be silly,” Robbe rebukes, predictably, swinging Sander’s hand idly now. “How are you?”

Sander squeezes his hand. “Good. I’m surprised you look so healthy, though.”

Robbe groans and buries his face against Sander’s arm. “Don’t. I’m suffering in silence.” He tilts his head ‘subtly’ at Yasmina.

Yasmina raises her brows at him, somehow managing to look wholly unimpressed and teasing all at once. “At least you can stave it off with sugar and coffee.”

Robbe has the sense to look sheepish, ducking his head in a nod. “You’re right, sorry, sorry.” He lets out a sigh. “You’re on too high of a level for me, Yasmina.”

“Queen shit,” Sander agrees, just to earn one of the girl’s unimpressed glances for himself. “Should I run now?”

She rolls her eyes. “Just sit down and drink your coffee. And keep your hands to yourself, if you can manage it? I still need my study partner, thank you.”

Sander grins and obeys, swinging a seat from the next table around to join them, dropping into it happily. He doesn’t place it as close to Robbe’s as he’d like, but Robbe leans into him for a moment anyway before refocusing his attention on his friend.

For the first while, Sander is content to listen and sip his coffee, feeling tiredness begin to creep into his bones. He lets his head loll against his own shoulder, trailing his eyes over Robbe’s profile and drifting into a sort of daydream. He can see the boy’s lips moving, but he has no idea what either of them are saying. They only let out the occasional comment, trading questions and answers and sighs and mutters. Robbe’s eyes are still red and a little puffy, a sign of his lingering exhaustion. He rubs at them absently as he looks down at his book and lets out another sigh, and leaves an eyelash on his cheek.

Sander reaches out and gently swipes it away with his thumb, an entirely mindless action that has Robbe looking at him in surprise before breaking out into a smile. He catches Sander’s hand before Sander can withdraw it completely, laying it on the table next to him. Instead of holding it, Robbe runs his hand along Sander’s sleeve, rubbing the soft seam between his fingers as he continues his work.

For some reason, it makes Sander blush. He’s sure his smile is unbearably happy, and he flicks a glance at Yasmina just to make sure she doesn’t know, only to catch her eye. She’s already smiling at him, and she purses her lips and raises her brows, teasing. Sander pulls a face at her, and she simply shakes her head as her smile widens.

“Can you work on your assignment while you’re waiting for us?” Robbe questions suddenly, drawing Sander’s attention back with a tilt of his head.

Sander glances at his bag, which he’s carried with him all day since he had to go straight to his session from a class. He considers for a moment but ultimately shakes his head. With yesterday being an exception, he usually prefers working at night—and when it’s not cutting into time he could otherwise spend admiring Robbe. “I’ll work on it when I go home,” he promises. Then, because he can’t help himself, “You’re too distracting.”

Robbe’s grin is small, and exasperated, but he yearns towards Sander, leaning across the table. Sander meets him and presses a quick kiss to his lips, then his nose, his cheek, before resolutely sitting back and waving at the textbooks and notes strewn in front of them. Robbe’s grin turns into a pout for half a second before he squeezes Sander’s wrist and focuses again.

Sander sinks back with a sigh, enjoying the feeling of Robbe’s fingers brushing against his wrist and skimming his hand, but he doesn’t feel quite as settled. There’s a prickle skittering over his neck, and he looks to his side and finds a woman staring at him.

Her nose is screwed, and there’s a vague curl to her lip. The disgust in her expression only heightens as Sander meets her eye and she flicks her gaze down to where Robbe’s hand rests over his. Sander can only stare back, dumbfounded.

When she looks at his face again, he raises his brows, as utterly bored as he can manage, and it only takes a moment for her to look away and get out of her seat across the cafe.

Sander tenses as she gets closer, hand enclosing around Robbe’s entirely, but she merely offers him another look before leaving. He deflates, squeezing Robbe’s fingers. It’s only when Robbe squeezes back that he panics again and quickly looks at the boy. But Robbe is in the middle of asking Yasmina a question, neither of them having noticed a thing.

“I meant to wish you a happy birthday,” Yasmina says, breaking him out of the moment. His mind has fogged over, and it takes him a moment to process the words. By then, she’s already moving on. “How was the party, anyway?”

Robbe and Sander share a look, and Yasmina waits. “Jens hardly said a word to me the whole day,” Robbe tells Sander, but he seems more amused than upset, so Sander allows himself to laugh.

“You didn’t tell him we didn’t actually do anything?”

“I did!” Robbe raises his hands. “He didn’t believe me.”

“What, what did you do to Jens?” Yasmina asks, confused. Then, after a second, “You know what, no, I probably don’t want to know.”

She cringes, and Robbe apologises profusely as Sander bursts into laughter, the weird incident from moments ago already forgotten.

Totally forgotten.

~^~

previous/next

[jamaisvuandyou]

Now or Never: Part 2

Description: Based on THIS reaction, for Huening Kai. You break up with your ex when he tells you he doesn’t want to have kids, not knowing that you’re already pregnant. 

Part 1

Posted: 03/29/2021

WARNING: oh all sortz of angst

Angst: 1,801 words

A/N: By popular request (sort of)

“Do you want us to tell him?” Soobin asked, holding your hand.

You stared at the floor. “I don’t know.”

Yeonjun squeezed your other hand. “Well, when you do know, just tell us and we’ll comply.”

“He’s been a lot better, lately,” Soobin said quietly.

You breathed in, but couldn’t seem to breath out. Why did he have to do this to you? If it had been anything else, you probably could have forgiven him, but not when it came to your baby.

He didn’t want it.

He didn’t want her.

“But is that because he doesn’t get information about me, or because he’s actually getting better?” You asked.

They both looked uncertain.

“He asks if you’re okay now and then, usually if he sees Soobin texting. We only confirm that you’re okay. We won’t say anything else, and Beomgyu quickly changes the subject.” Yeonjun sighed. “But I don’t know what would happen if he found out he was having a daughter. It’s something I think we would have to ask his therapist about.”

“At least he doesn’t know where you live, now,” Soobin whispered. “That way if we do accidentally say anything, he can’t come and haunt your doorstep.”

“I do appreciate all that you two have done for me,” You said, shifting your gaze to the ceiling. “I still don’t understand why, though.”

“Because you deserve better,” Yeonjun answered, the same answer as always, with no further explanations. “We should get back soon, are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for coming to the appointment with me.”

“No problem,” Soobin answered, smiling softly. “You’re our friend, y/n.”

“Yeah...our friend,” Yeonjun echoed, but his tone was slightly different. He pet your head for a second--something you really normally didn’t care for but were used to him doing because he did it so often and it was like a nervous tick with him. “We’re here for you. Part of that is because he isn’t. Won’t be. Can’t be. And because...we think you’re in the right in this situation. We’ve made our amends with Kai, we had to, he’s our brother, but we still side with you.”

“Beomgyu and Taehyun, too,” Soobin added. “They just thought it was better if we limited who knew where you were and who talked to you.”

You nodded. You received texts now and then from the other two, especially Beomgyu because he was a talker, but Taehyung usually kept you apprised of how Hyuka was doing with his therapy sessions.

You didn’t want to shut the door completely. You didn’t want to shut the door, and make it so that your daughter never knew her father. But you kept it mostly closed, only open a crack.

The crack that let the other four through, but managed to keep your ex-boyfriend out.

You wouldn’t let him in, not until you felt secure and safe and knew that he was over you. Because lately...you thought about him, and it didn’t feel like affection. It felt like fleeting infatuation.

Lately, you recognized affection differently.

Your therapist was happy with your progress, and your ability to recognize the faults in the relationship you’d had with Huening Kai. The flags that had gone up, that made you know that the relationship wouldn’t have lasted.

She often asked you about Soobin and Yeonjun, but she didn’t say much when you spoke of them, just smiled and said you had a good support system.

You weren’t sure what she was hinting at, but you figured it was something you had to figure out.

The boys hugged you before they left, Soobin reminding you to text him if you needed anything.

Yeonjun hesitated, letting Soobin out ahead of him. “Hey, y/n...if he finds out we were visiting you today...can I at least tell him that the baby is healthy too?”

You nodded. “Don’t tell him it’s a girl, though. I’m not ready for him to have that information.”

He nodded, hugging you again and leaving.

You didn’t think that the mention of your baby would send Huening back over the edge.

But it did.

Beomgyu texted you saying he lost it, and that they were trying to find him again, and their company was taking action as well.

But he showed up at your workplace, and thankfully one of your coworkers knew the situation and saw him before he could find you--helping you explain to your boss and then sneaking you out a back way and into her car.

Yet, he still managed to catch up to you. You had decided to go to a cafe a little ways away from your new apartment, and suddenly he was sitting across from you.

You stared in horror, wondering how he found you. “You can’t be here.”

“I am. Besides, you let my bandmates visit you,” He replied, almost coldly. “And they aren’t even the father of your child.”

“But they respected my wishes, and didn’t lose their mind and stalk me,” You snapped in a whisper. “Go. Away. You’re going to lose your job if you keep acting out like this.”

“You think I care about my job?!”

“I think you should,” You replied quickly, before he could continue. “You lose this job and I promise you will never see this child. Now get out.”

A hand enclosed on Huening’s shoulder before he could reply.

Taehyun glared down at Huening. “Come on.”

Their manager was a foot behind him, looking stern.

“It’s my child, I have every right to know it!” Huening argued.

“Then act in a way fitting for someone with a child, and I’ll think about it,” You snapped. “But every second you defy my wishes makes the chances of you ever meeting this child dwindle into obscurity. So, get out.”

He stared at you. “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

“I can forgive you, but I can’t forget what you’ve done, and I won’t change my mind. We’re not right for each other, and you know that.”

“But Soobin and Yeonjun-hyung are?” He snapped.

You frowned. “Soobin and Yeonjun are my friends. They’ve been helping me, whereas you’ve only been causing me trouble. You showed up at my work, are you so thoughtless as to threaten my job?”

Taehyun tugged Huening Kai away. “Come on. Both of you are too upset to make any sort of productive conversation, and you have an appointment with your therapist.”

“No I don’t--”

“Yes you do. Manager-nim scheduled it on our way here.” Taehyun gave you an apologetic look and continued dragging Hyuka away.

But you no longer felt guilty about cutting him out. About trying to keep him away.

You scheduled your own appointment, and headed that way when she said she could get you in right away.

“He tracked you down?” She asked gently after you had told her everything that had happened that day. Including the conversation.

You nodded. “I don’t know how.”

“Maybe he followed his bandmates?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it,” You answered, sighing. “They’re beyond careful.”

“They care about you.”

“And I’m grateful, but...I don’t know how much longer I can rely on them. It’s causing too much trouble. I think...if I’m going to have him out of my life, I need to get rid of all of the things tying him to me.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Do you really want to do that?”

You sighed. “No. They’re really the only friends I have. I’m friendly with some of my coworkers, and you know the one basically adopted me as her work-daughter, so we’re a bit closer. But when I was dating...him...they were the only ones who I could talk to about it. And Soobin and I would talk about baking and we were always...friendly. Which was nice. It was nice being friends with them while dating him. But it’s just going to hurt everyone if I continue being friends with them.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded.

“Before you were dating Huening Kai, what brought you close enough to get to know him?”

You frowned a bit. “What?”

“How did you meet him?”

“They endorse one of the products that the company I work for produces, and I’m part of the marketing division. I was the one who got the deal, so I was there for their shoots. They started talking to me, and we got along well. I became the liaison, so if they ever wanted products, I would be the one to take them over.I’m pretty sure they started ordering one thing now and then just to tease me but then we all just sort of moved toward friendship.” You shrugged.

“Who talked to you the most? Who ordered the most?”

“Soobin ordered the most, he really liked the cookies we make, but it was almost always groups when I would get there. Sometimes it would just be Soobin, Yeonjun, and Huening, other times it would be Beomgyu, Huening, and Taehyun; Soobin, Beomgyu, and Yeonjun...usually three of them waiting for me.”

“Who were you most drawn to, initially?”

“Yeonjun, but mostly because he didn’t talk much around me. Then probably Beomgyu because he did talk to me. Soobin because we had a bit in common.”

She wrote a few things down. “Have you ever considered whether your attraction to Huening Kai was actually misplaced affection for one or more of the other boys?”

“What?” You laughed, a little incredulous, but also...nervous?

“It seems to me like you may have felt affection, but misplaced the affection as belonging to Huening when actually it belonged to someone else in his group. It’s mostly a theory, but there are some inklings that make me think it might be true. I want you to journal about your relationship with each member of the group, see if you find out anything about yourself when you finish.” She wrote it down on a separate paper and handed it over to you. “And then we’ll talk more. I’m not going to say that you handled today’s confrontation perfectly, but there are few that would. I am glad that you called and got in after that confrontation, though, and I think you’re making progress.”

You thanked her, and left.

And you wondered, as you journaled later, how you had managed to start dating Huening Kai, of all the members.

The most logical would actually have been Soobin...but Huening had asked you out. And you said yes. And maybe you got caught up in it so much….

You hugged yourself as you contemplated your difficult relationships with all of the boys, wondering if things would ever settle down. Wondering if you really would have to cut them all out to try and create some semblance of peace.

[kaimelia]

Breathe Again

a/n: this ended up being sadder than intended...i still hope you enjoy it, though!

------------------------

“You didn’t think this was important to mention?” Amelia’s eyes were widened dramatically as she held out her arms in exasperation, following her boyfriend as he walked around their apartment, cleaning up the kitchen. He sighed and turned to face her.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew what was happening. There was no point in worrying you if it wasn’t real.”

“But it is real, Link! You have cancer!” His eyes narrowed as he looked away from her, resting his head onto his hands while he leaned against the kitchen counter. “We are in a relationship, and we have a child. You can’t shut me out of things like this!”

“It’s not like telling you would have changed the results.” He brushed back his hair.

“Do your parents even know?”

“I hadn’t told you, Amelia. Do you think I’ve told my parents?” Her lip quivered as he raised his voice, his anger obvious. “I wasn’t even planning on telling you until I got my cancer staged.”

“And I had to find out from a phone call from your doctor confirming your appointment for the tests to stage your cancer.”

“Why were you even answering my phone?”

“Because you were in the shower and they called multiple times, I didn’t think that you were keeping secrets from me! I guess I was wrong to assume that you would tell me if you had reason to believe you had cancer!” Link paused as her voice cracked and her eyes closed. “How long have you known? How long have you thought you had cancer and didn’t say anything?” He glanced over at her with teary eyes.

“I got the diagnosis a week ago, and I first suspected it when my parents came up to visit.” Her mouth opened wide in shock.

“That was almost three months ago, Link! Do you realize how terrifying this is? I can’t lose you. I can’t live-”

“Do you realize how terrifying this is for me? I’ve lived through this before, and I know exactly how terrible it is. I’m terrified,” he whispered, tears falling freely down his face, “I don’t even know how to go on. How am I supposed to get treatments and then go to work as if everything’s okay? How am I supposed to look my parents in the eyes and tell them that their worst nightmare is happening? That everything they did to make sure I was healthy was all for crap?” He wiped his eyes before continuing. “How am I supposed to look at our son while knowing that I may never see him grow up, that I might not be in his life for long? He’s only 2, Amelia. He won’t remember me when he’s older.”

“You can’t think like that, Link.”

“I know it’s bad. It’s worse than it was before. I don’t need some tests to tell me that it doesn’t look good.” Amelia stepped towards him and placed a hand on his arm. “The staging test is just going to confirm how I’m dying and tell us how long I have.”

“But medicine is better now,” she muttered, “there are more ways to treat cancer and operate than when you were 10.” Link shook his head lightly.

“And what will my quality of life be like? When I went through treatments, they absolutely destroyed me. I was a shell of the kid I was before then.”

“So you’re not even going to try? To live?” He felt his heart sink at the sound of her voice. “You’re just giving up, even when there are treatments and things that they can do to help. What about me? You think that I can just move on with my life after you die because you refused to fight?”

“This isn’t about you, Amelia!” He snapped, shaking her hand off of his arm. Her eyes widened at his words, and she took a step away from him.

“I’m-I’m going to go to Meredith’s for the night.”

“Amelia,” he pleaded, stepping towards her while she backed away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“Just tell Scout that I’m at work, please?” She lifted her purse from the hook while sliding her feet into her shoes. “I think we just both need some time to think things through, away from each other.”

“Amelia, please don’t leave.” The front door opened as she took a step forward and grabbed her car keys from the bowl. She turned around to face him momentarily, her bottom lip quivering as she spoke.

“It’s what you said. This isn’t about me. It’s your thing to figure out.” The door closed behind her, leaving Link standing alone. He turned his back to the door and slid down against it, burying his face in his hands as he cried and cursed himself out for being such an idiot.

------------------------

“Mama,” Scout babbled, throwing a cheerio at his father’s face. Link hadn’t slept the night before, just stayed awake and typed out a thousand texts to Amelia that would never be sent.

“Mama’s at work, buddy. It’s just you and me.” The toddler laughed and banged his fists against the sides of his high chair.

“Mama, hug!” Link couldn’t deny that Scout liked his mother better; ever since he had begun talking, he’d use almost every word to call for her. It wasn’t unusual for Amelia to be at work in the morning; just that this time, he knew that she wasn’t really at work. He lifted Scout out of his high chair and stood up, rocking the boy back and forth. They both turned as the front door unlocked and Amelia walked through. He could tell she hadn’t slept well, if at all, by her appearance.

“Hi, Scout!” The toddler smiled widely as his mother reached out her arms to take him, wrapping him into a hug. Link crossed his arms over his chest as he watched them interact. “Meredith’s gonna take him for the morning so we can talk, so I’ll go bring him over, now?”

“Yeah, we had some cheerios, but he just threw most of them at me. She might want to give him something else so that he doesn’t fuss.” Amelia nodded and shifted Scout onto her hip.

“Okay, I’ll be back.” He watched as the door opened and she left, once again, leaving him standing alone in the apartment. Although she wasn’t gone for long, it felt like an eternity to Link as he paced around their living room, picking up stray toys from the floor. She returned less than ten minutes later, leaning against the door as she closed it behind her. “Hey,” she whispered, making eye contact with Link.

“Hey.” She stepped forward.

“I took some time and calmed down a little, do you wanna talk now?”

“Yes, of course.” Link sat down on the couch and patted the space next to him. Amelia walked over and sat down across from him on the couch, pulling her legs under her body. She looked up at him.

“So, I think we should first find someone for you to talk to, like a therapist. I think you should have someone who can help you through these things, besides me.” He nodded slowly and looked down into his lap. “And I can go with you if you’d like, but I think it’s important.” She took a shaky breath before continuing. “The other thing I need to say is that this does involve me. We are in a relationship, and we’re parents, so what happens in your life does affect me. And I need to know that in the future, you’re not going to shut me out from these things.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I was terrified when I heard, and I didn’t know how to process it. But it wasn’t right for me to not tell you. I’m sorry.” A tear rolled down her face as she listened to him, his voice painfully weak. “But, I also need you to understand that I don’t want to talk about this all of the time. I have all of these terrible thoughts inside of my head, and saying them just makes me feel so much worse.” He reached out to take her hand, holding it in his. “I’m trying to be positive about this, I really am. But everything about this is much more terrifying because it’s not just me anymore. I’m petrified that Scout will have to grow up without his Dad or that you’ll have to lose another person.”

“So you fight, Link. You have to fight. For me, and for Scout. Remember when you said you would always fight for our dreams? My dream is you being healthy, us growing old together, and being there for Scout at every part of his life, together.” Link remained silent for a minute, thinking through what she said.

“Okay,” he whispered, “I’ll fight.” Her eyes filled with hope as she looked at him, lunging forward to wrap her arms around him. He returned the hug, holding her tightly and running his hand through her hair. Amelia sniffled softly and then pulled away from him, her face red from crying. “Promise you’ll be with me through it all, you’ll come to my appointments and hold my hand during treatments.”

“Of course. I’m not letting you out of my sight, anymore.” He smiled slowly before laughing, grinning as she began to laugh as well.

“How about I go make us breakfast, and then we go pick up Scout, and go to the park? Just have some family time before I have to get poked and prodded,” he suggested, cupping her face with his hand. Amelia nodded.

“That sounds great.”

[samtheflamingomain]

25.21%

I've been sober for 3 months today. 92 days. 25.21% of 2021.

I could've posted more updates, more milestones (it took a LOT not to post on Day 69) but I wanted to kind of save it up for a Big Day. It was also a decent way to continue to incentivize my continued sobriety: a full pass to do a shameless, hardcore bragging sesh.

Anyway, this post comes in 2 parts: the TL;DR for those who only want the gist, then more in depth on my ability to stay sober, the lasting effects of rehab, etc.

I tried my damnedest to pare this absolute novel down, but it's long, so feel free to dip out if you just get bored. Onward!

TL;DR: I went to rehab the beginning of July for 3 weeks and haven't had a drop of alcohol since. I've lost weight, I'm more healthy, my daily anxiety level went from 8 to 2, I haven't had an anxiety attack in 3 months, and everything generally just seems... easier. My memory and concentration have improved. I've been productive and I've been meditating every day. I'm saving money, and while I sometimes fantasize about getting drunk, that's usually all it is.

Honestly, it's been much easier than I expected, but I think a lot of that is because for the first 3 weeks, the time in which I would usually break down and start drinking again when trying to get sober myself, was spent behind a locked door. So far I haven't had any days where I was close to giving in. I haven't had many days where I've been depressed about it, missing it or really tempted. Maybe 3-4. I've basically just gotten on with my life as if alcohol doesn't exist.

To wrap up the short version for those ready to peace out, I'll leave it with a bit of advice.

I don't feel qualified to give any specific advice, because my story feels very unique to me, and I honestly don't think what worked for me will work for MOST people. Sometimes people spend a year in rehab and still drive straight to the liquor store on their way home.

That said, there's one thing that I've found pretty universally true: you have to really want it. For a while, I floated about without much of a "reason" to stay sober. I don't have a spouse, kids or a job I've been fired from, so I didn't see the point.

It's taken me a while, but after not being "convinced" by a few superficial "reasons" like weight loss and saving money, I thought I needed something more... permanent? Consequential? I now realize that my "reason" for getting sober at a young age after only a few years of alcoholism is that I don't want it to get to a point where I'm hurting other people, drinking myself into multiple lasting health problems... I don't want it to become permanent or consequential.

Anyway, that's my two cents. If you do have something like kids or trouble keeping a job, definitely use that as your reason. But for anyone who's a pretty "functional" alcoholic like I was, "not letting it go on long enough to become disfunctional" is a good enough reason.

This is going to get stupid long, so feel free to walk away now, just glad you read this much and it really does mean the world when people listen to what I have to say.

Now some more things in depth. I'll go in chronological order: what made me get sober, what I took from rehab (and what I left), and how it's been the past few months.

I started drinking when I got kicked out, manic out of my mind and homeless unable to sleep. It took a while until I was able to sleep without alcohol, but by then the addict brain had taken over. I'd tried a few times to get sober myself, but I never made it more than a week without, and always got back to daily drinking after a few months maximum.

Some people need a "wake up call", a "last straw" or a "rock bottom". Something external to make them realize they can't go on as they are. For me, the catalyst was my health, which is more of an internal reason I suppose. I didn't have a heart attack or liver failure, but my anxiety was getting uncontrollable and I knew it was directly tied to my drinking.

My life had been starting to feel tolerable, and I was more financially secure than ever before. Things were looking up... except for the alcoholism. This is a weird analogy but the only one that makes sense to express why, if I was doing so well on paper, I decided to go to rehab: you have to sweep before you mop. If I hadn't been in the place I was, I don't think I would've been successful at rehab. I had to sweep up the cat turds from the floor of my life before I was able to mop up the shit stains with sobriety. I know, I'm a true wordsmith.

When I finally called the hotline that hooked me up with a bunch of different rehabs, I knew I was in for a wait. It was about 5 months from that call to checking in, which isn't too bad considering I've been on the waitlist for a neuropsychiatrist in ALL OF CANADA for 4 years.

That brings us to July 12th, Rehab Day One. I've gone in depth in multiple other posts but to touch on it briefly, if I had to describe my experience in a sentence I'd say "the place I went to got very lucky with me".

What this means is that, of the 5 people in my group, I think this exact program was only ever going to help me. At the same time, I didn't even know what I would need, but this exact program was 90% of it. I didn't think 3 weeks would be long enough, but for me it was. The hours-long, repetitive, basic-ass CBT groups held 5 times a day 7 days a week was absolute torture for everyone but myself. While it was a drag to spend an hour on defining what a cognitive distortion is, the routine and repetition, something I've never gotten out of any outpatient program, helped me to really absorb the information and let it rewire my brain.

I've always said that I'm someone who should be spending an hour a day with a therapist for the rest of my life, and while that's not even remotely feasible, this was as close as it's ever gotten, and it proved me right, because it worked. I've done biweekly therapy for a short time but even that didn't come close to the way my brain changed in those 3 short weeks.

This program required absolute commitment and open-mindedness. This isn't because it was hard work or difficult concepts, but quite the opposite. While I hate the entire concept of art therapy being used as a cure-all for mental illness, I willingly got out of my bed, went downstairs and tried doing a dot mandala for an hour because I'm willing to try anything to get better. A lot of people might think they are, but really aren't. To use the mandala as an example, one guy was really into it, I wasn't, but we both finished. The other 3 tried, messed up a few times, and then scrolled through their phones. When I say this program necessitates complete engagement, that's not a compliment. It shouldn't be a chore to engage with the program. It shouldn't take me actively saying "I know I've known this basic concept since 4th grade, but maybe hearing it again will help" to get something out of a rehab program. So again, in every way, I got lucky, and so did they.

Before I finish with the rehab section, having had a few months to reflect on the whole thing, I now have an endless list of things wrong with it. I arrived, greeted by the most jaded and disillusioned of staff, and quickly became disturbed and at points concerned with just how negligent the staff are.

Maybe it's because I've been on the psych ward where they won't even let you have shoelaces and shine a flashlight on your face every half hour through the night, but it could've been so incredibly easy to sneak in alcohol. I brought 2 full water bottles, fully expecting to have to dump them out upon arrival, but they said "nah it's fine". Is it though?

Then there were actual counsellors there who were... okay. I recall one, the one I thought was the smartest, reading a handout aloud and coming across the word "delve" as in "let's delve into..." and stumbled, then said she doesn't know that word. The room was silent. As she pulled up Google on the screen I said, "it means to dive into it". She Googled it anyway. Synonyms include "dive in". If that was the only example I wouldn't mention it, but this was the first of at least 10 words she had do Google, none past a 10th grade level, from HER OWN MATERIAL. From that point on it became clear that they had no fucking idea what they were doing.

We had one last one-on-one counselling session before we left and the counsellor just filled in boxes to questions on her computer, rephrasing everything I said to fit into the buzzwords and "lessons" we'd "learned". Example. Me: I do think I'm better able to catch myself thinking 'oh I can just have one drink' and say 'no I can't'." Her: "Okay, so would you say that you can recognize negative cognitive distortions like permission-giving thoughts and counter them with a more rational and less emotional mind?" Like girl, blink twice if your boss is holding your family hostage. She gave me some papers, detailing all the online courses they were signing me up for and options for more treatment they'd be sending me, a phone number to call and a phone appointment for the next Monday. I never got that call, the phone number is a hotline, I never got a single email from them, and given how shitty they really are at their jobs, I didn't feel the inclination to try and get those resources. If they even exist in the first place.

In summation, it was a place where it was physically impossible to get alcohol. That's really all I can say in its favor. Oh, and they let you have your cell phone.

Now on our timeline I'm back home. I want to kind of analyze why it's been easy for me.

I often said that my main goal of going to rehab was to lock me away from alcohol long enough for it to reset my brain. Most people thought that was naïve, but that's exactly what happened. But I'm well aware that my experience of "instantly became sober and literally hasn't had a single hard day in 3 months" is absurdly unusual.

I put this down to a few things. Firstly, I'm on seven different meds for my mental health. Almost all of them have their effects dulled or even eliminated when you drink. So when I noticed my mood, fatigue, memory, concentration etc all getting better at once - right about as I left rehab, I don't think it would be a stretch to say that all those meds started working properly.

Secondly, I've been keeping myself busy, but that's something I've always been good at. Now I specifically choose to undertake projects that will eat up a lot my time and put me in a state of flow. I recently made an entire card game from scratch, and let me tell you, I didn't think of alcohol for a week.

Thirdly, my other goals now get in the way of alcohol. I'm getting old and my body is deteriorating. But I've always wanted to do just one last season of gymnastics. Well, I need to lose weight for that to happen. I've already lost 35 pounds, and after another 20 I'll be ready to go. Also, I used to spend more on alcohol per month than rent. Even though I've done a few shopping sprees lately, I haven't come remotely close to how much I was spending before.

I want it more than anything. I want to be sober more than I want one night of "fun" that will more likely than not lead me back to where I was a year ago. I never want to need anything as much as I needed alcohol.

Lastly, just a few more random thoughts.

A lot of people, myself included, worried about the fact that I work at a bar as a cook, but honestly the entire time I'm there I'm thinking about food, not alcohol. If I'm hanging out with some regulars before/after, I can watch them drink and be perfectly fine with my coffee, because the coffee is $2, and I used to spend $20 after every work shift.

I also decided in rehab to start taking better care of myself as best I could. This started with getting my second vax which I'd been putting off, then an eye appointment, then new glasses, then a dentist appointment where I was informed I need to do $3000 worth of work on my implant that's erroding my bone matter, so that sucks, but I caught it early. I've also been meditating every day. In just 3 months, I've made pretty big improvements to my self-care and my daily routine.

One of my fears about sobriety was "missing out" on "having fun". A few days ago, all my housemates got together to play Mario Party, and it was kind of my first night doing something social while sober. It was a breath of fresh air - I wasn't constantly running to piss, I didn't worry about running out of alcohol, I didn't get sloppy and obnoxious as I can sometimes do. I even came very very close to winning my first game of MP. When I reflected on the night, I realized that, if I'd been getting drunk the whole time, I would've sucked at the minigames, been a hindrance to anyone unfortunate enough to be teamed with me, and likely would've stopped caring about the game itself after the first few turns.

Yesterday I was making my 4th pot of coffee of the day when I realized there was a full glass of wine just sitting on the counter. I had absolutely no idea where the hell it came from - nobody in my house drinks wine. I shrugged and poured that sweet sweet bean juice. It was only when I sat down and took a sip of coffee did I find myself thinking automatically, "this tastes so much better than wine". I only realized then that it had been rose wine, the only kind I've ever been able to tolerate. It was the ultimate moment of possible temptation, and the thought of just chugging that glass - as I may've done in the past - didn't even cross my mind.

I'm so glad to be where I am. I'm about to undergo some serious financial changes - i.e. going absolutely broke - but drinking isn't gonna help that, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.

[cherryblossomflowers]

An Old Life Meets A New (Finale)

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter, Danneel x Stepdaughter, Jared x Niece

Warnings: Slight Cussing, Angst, Fluff, Death Mentioned, Car Accident Mentioned, Anxiety/Depression, Arguing, Panic Attacks, Yelling, Fighting, Sex Mentioned, Child Abuse, Drunk Abuse, Relationship Abuse, Alcohol

Summary: After the recent death of her mother, Harper must adjust to her new life in the Ackles home, this includes a new stepmother, half-siblings, and reconnecting with her father.

A/N: And that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone who supported me in writing my first series!! There are many more to come, don’t worry. Thank you to @mlovesstories for inspiring me to post my writings. Without her I probably wouldn’t be where I am. I love you, My Cherry Blossoms. Enjoy the finale! 

The finale is set 3 years into the future!!!

No hate on Danneel or Jensen please. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE IN MY TAG LIST*

An Old Life Meets A New Masterlist

Chapter 30: Epilogue

An 18-year-old Harper Ackles was currently painting a landscape on her wall. She had just returned from her therapist appointment after school and wanted to do some painting. JJ suggested something with horses, so Harper immediately got to work.

Since her first mural years ago, her walls all had different paintings on them now. One wall was the entirety of Central Park, another had a few paintings of flowers of all sorts, her back wall still had Time Square and below it was the Texas Capitol, but the current painting she was working on was a landscape of a grass field with wild horses.

JJ was doing her homework on Harper's bed when she looked up to Harper, "Hey, Sis?"

Harper turned from the wall, "Yeah?"

"I’ve done everything, but I still don't understand this stuff. Can you explain it one more time, pretty please?" asked JJ, flashing her puppy eyes at her sister.

Harper chuckled and turned back to her painting, "PEMDAS stands for parenthesis, exponents, multiplication, division, addition, and subtraction. You work through a math problem in that order, starting with-"

"That I understand, but the order is multiplication then division and addition then subtraction. What happens if the problem has more than one of each?" JJ pointed at her book, "Like this one has (2+9) - (9-2).”

Harper smiled at JJ, "The order of operations still stands. Parenthesis first from left to right then subtract them."

JJ stared at her book for a moment before smacking her forehead, "Oh, man. I'm so stupid!"

Harper let out a laugh, "No you're not, JJ. You're in 4th grade. It's difficult at first but the more you do it, the easier it gets," she pointed at JJ with her paint brush, "Don't forget, I use letters and words in Calculus. You're lucky to still have just numbers."

"It’s only because you're also old," JJ mumbled.

Harper set her paint supplies down and stepped down from the latter, "What was that?"

JJ held up her hands in defense, "Nothing, I said nothing."

Harper stood with her hands on her hips, "Yeah right. Just because you're 10 doesn't mean I can't still treat you like a kid. Come here!"

Harper lunged at JJ, but JJ jumped out of the way last minute. Harper chased her around her room, screaming and laughing, until they both got too tired and fell to Harper's bed, laughing at their childish games.

JJ laid on her stomach and looked at the landscape mural, "I really like this one. It feels like I'm actually there. Like I can feel the breeze and hear the horses."

"That was sort of the point," Harper stared at her painting, "Besides, it would be bad if you didn't like it. This will be your room someday after all."

JJ's eyes widened, "What? Really?"

"Well, I'll be off to college soon. And as a teen, you'll want your own space. Believe me, I know," Harper rolled her eyes.

"Harper, there's mail for you!" Jensen yelled from the living room.

JJ turned to Harper, "I'll race you."

Harper shook her head, "No, not today. I’m not really feeling it."

Then Harper shot up from the bed and ran to the door with a laugh. JJ chased after her to catch up. Harper jumped down the stairs followed by JJ. Jensen, Jared, and Genevieve turned from the couch to see the commotion from the girls.

"Oh, you totally cheated!" JJ exclaimed.

"I'm the oldest, I do not cheat. I just outsmart," Harper stuck her tongue out at JJ.

JJ scoffed, "I'd call waiting until you got to the bedroom door cheating."

"Well I call it strategy."

"Okay, girls. That's enough," Danneel said stepping between the two, "JJ, did you finish your homework?"

"Well, um, about that..." JJ chuckled nervously.

Danneel pointed upstairs, "When you finish, then you can come downstairs."

JJ rolled her eyes, groaned, and stomped upstairs.

Harper chuckled, "Well, she'll be a delightful teenager if she's like this now."

Jensen stood from the couch and walked up to Harper, holding out a letter, "Guess who it's from."

Harper took the letter with a shaky hand and looked at it with a gasp, "NYU?"

Jensen nodded, "You should open it."

Harper hesitated, "But what if I didn't get accepted?"

Jared stood and walked over to Harper, "And what if you did? You'll never know until you open it."

Genevieve walked up and wrapped an arm around Harper's shoulder, "Besides, whatever it says we'll support you in any decision you make."

Harper smiled at her family and sighed, "Okay, I'll open it."

She took a few steps forward and slowly began to open the letter. Once it was opened and the pulled the letter out, she paused.

Jensen walked forward and laid a hand on her shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared. I know that I want to go to NYU because their art and education program is so good, but what if they didn't like my application? What if they think my paintings and drawings are average or even below average? What if-"

"What if you're stalling?" Jared interrupted her.

Harper rolled her eyes and chuckled, "Yeah, thanks Uncle Jared."

He smiled, "Anytime, kiddo."

Jensen shook his head at Jared then turned back to Harper, "Babygirl, open the letter. No matter what it says, you know we all think you're an amazing artist."

Harper let out a long sigh and nodded, "Okay."

She unfolded the letter and started to read. Her hand slowly came up to cover her mouth and she turned from Jensen, walking away from him. Jensen turned back to Danneel with a sad look on his face and shook his head. Jared and Gen exchanged an upset look as well.

Then Harper turned back around, uncovered her mouth, and quietly said, "I got in."

Jensen took a step forward, a surprised looked took over his face, "You what?"

"Dad, I got in! I'm going to NYU!" Harper yelled out.

Jensen ran up to her and picked her up, spinning her in a circle. Danneel ran over and hugged Harper as well. Jared and Gen doing the same.

"Read it to us, Harper," Genevieve said excitedly.

"Okay, okay," she cleared her throat, "Dear Miss Ackles, We are glad you have considered NYU and have completed the first step in joining the Bobcat family. We would like to be the first to congratulate you on your admission to New York University. After thoroughly looking through your application and artwork, we would also like to offer you a full ride to our university. We look forward to hearing from you soon and we'll see you this fall. Sincerely, The Director of Admissions and Recruitment"

Everyone was cheering and hugging Harper. They were so happy for her. She is following her dreams, continuing school, and moving forward with her life.

Danneel hugged her tightly, "Harper, I'm so proud of you. You're so grown up now, going off to college and starting your life. I knew you were destined for greatness."

Harper smiled, "Thanks, Mom."

Everyone suddenly paused. Harper's face got bright red as she realized what had just came from her mouth.

Danneel held her out at arms length, "What was that?"

Harper shook her head, "Nothing, nothing. Sorry, I didn't mean...it just slipped. I'm sorry...I shouldn't have-"

Danneel hugged her again, "Harper, it's okay. If you feel that way, it's completely okay with me. If you want to call me Dee or Mom, it's your choice."

Harper backed away and looked down, a tear falling down her face, "I've actually wanted to call you Mom for a few months now. I just didn't know how to tell you."

Danneel smiled, "Well if you ask me, I think that was perfect timing."

Harper ran her fingers through her hair, "I mean, now or never right?"

Just then, JJ ran down the stairs to interrupt them, "I was kind of standing behind the way and listening. But Harper," she ran to hug her, "Congrats! I'm so proud of you, Sis."

Arrow and Zeppelin ran into the room as well. Arrow walked up to give Harper a hug, as did Zeppelin.

Harper bent down to look at them, "Well, it looks like you three will finally all have your own rooms in a couple months."

Zeppelin looked at her confusingly, “But I already have my own room.”

“Yeah,” replied Harper, “But now you won’t be across from both Arrow and JJ.”

Zeppelin crossed his arms and mumbled, “Maybe then I won’t get my nails paints every weekend anymore.”

“Nice try,” Arrow spoke up, “This weekend, JJ and I are having a makeup party! And you, little brother, are at the top of the guest list.”

Zeppelin groaned in response, which got a laugh out of everyone in the room.

The rest of the afternoon was spent celebrating Harper's admission into NYU. Jensen went out and got a cake, Danneel made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner as it's Harper's favorite, and Jared and Gen brought their kids over for a pool party.

Harper felt so loved and filled with so much joy that day. Things were changing, and they were changing for the better.

A couple months later, Harper's room was packed up and she was off to New York. Jensen, Danneel, Jared, Genevieve, Tom, Shep, Odette, JJ, Arrow, and Zeppelin all took her to the airport to say goodbye.

"I promise, I'll call you when I land and I'll send you pictures of my dorm," Harper said as she hugged Jensen and Danneel goodbye.

Jensen wiped his tears, "Please do. I want to see everything."

Danneel kissed her cheek, "Just please check in with us whenever you can."

"I will," Harper laughed.

She hugged Jared and Gen, then their kids, and finally the Ackles kids. JJ kept her arms around Harper's neck, trying to make her stay.

"JJ, I have to go," Harper said trying to pull JJ off.

JJ kept her grip though and continued to cry, "No, you can't leave."

Harper felt her heartstrings beginning to pull, Is this how I felt when Dad left?

Harper held her sister at arms length, "JJ, I can promise you this. I will come back. I'm not leaving forever. You'll see me for Thanksgiving. Just promise me something okay? Be good, keep studying hard, and stay out of trouble. If you ever need help on your homework, call me. I'll try my best to help you over the phone."

JJ sighed and nodded, "Will you call me when you land?"

Harper looked up at Jensen and they exchanged a smile.

She turned back to JJ and smiled at her then bringing her into a hug, "Of course, Sis. I'll call as soon as the plane touches the ground."

Harper stood up from hugging her, tears were flowing from both of them. Harper then walked back up to Jensen.

"Harper, I'm so proud of you. You're such a smart girl, and you've really grown up," he said.

Harper shrugged, "I learned from the best, Dad."

Jensen laughed, "Be safe, okay?" then hugged her.

Harper hugged him back, "I will. I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, babygirl."

Harper pulled away from the hug and grabbed her carry on bag. She waved goodbye at the Padelecki's and Ackles' families and walked towards the security area.

Both families started to leave the airport, but Jensen didn't move.

"Honey, is everything okay?" asked Danneel.

Jensen wrapped an arm around her, "Yeah, Dee. Everything is perfect," he kissed her temple, "Our little girl is all grown up now."

Harper's flight was 3 hours, but felt quick. She touched down in New York, got her bags from the baggage claim, and walked out of the airport. She called home to let her know she had gotten there safely, and JJ was very excited to hear from Harper.

She got a taxi and it took her to NYU. She checked in, got her dorm keys, and put her bags in her room. She took a few pictures of her room and sent them to Jensen.

She sat down on her bed and thought for a moment. She stood up and searched her carry on for her sketchbook and her pencils. Then she grabbed her dorm key and left the dormitories as quickly as possible. She took a taxi and went to the cemetery. Once she arrived, she took a stroll to the corner where her mother was.

Harper sat down next to the headstone, opened up her sketchbook, and sighed, "Hi, Mom. It's been a while, huh? Let me catch you up on everything that's happened."

The End

------------------------------

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @adorable-minibot @chessurkait​

@desiredposion @idksupernatural @thevelvetseries​ @let-me-luve-you​

@obsessedwithfandomsx​ @mangueweaschester​ @starchildwild​ @deans-baby-momma​ @spnbaby-67​ @unicornmadness2444​

@emery--nicole--morrison​ @spnfamily-j2 @wecantgiggleitsafandom

[stonertransdad]

Life Update since I hadn't been on here in forever

The pandemic was/is wild! Lockdowns started literally around the time we were going to the fertility specialist to get her pregnant. I lost my job to COVID in March shortly before we did the procedure, but we decided there's never really a good time to have a kid. Why not during a global pandemic when one of us in unemployed? (BTW, I don't recommend having a kid during a pandemic. Not being able to go to all of the appointments and having to sit in the parking lot was brutal.)

Let's talk about May friends...it was rough. (TW for mention of suicide btw. I'll post a gif where it's safe to start again if you wanna skip over it.)

So May 1st is the anniversary of my father's suicide. It had been 4 years. I found his body and since he wasn't married, I had to handle his affairs and arrange his funeral. May 1st, 2020 my wife and I had a Zoom game night with our friends and I got drunk because everyone was drinking (except my wife because she was pregnant). After our game night at like 2am, I had a psychotic break. I threatened to kill myself numerous times. My wife tried to talk me down, but eventually called the cops to take me. I thank her for that because looking back, that was the moment I knew something needed to change. I was convinced the cops were gonna kill me because I'm a trans dude in rural West Texas. I legit took the phone out of my wife's hand, hung up on 911, and yeeted her phone across the backyard and tried to hop the fence. Eventually the cops came and talked me down. They took me to the hospital an hour away in handcuffs (for their protection I did nothing wrong). They took me to the religious hospital that I was born in. So when they looked up my info by my name and date of birth from my driver's license (I only changed my middle name) literally all my paperwork and my bracelet had my deadname and wrong gender despite all of my legal stuff saying male with my new middle name. I mentioned it to them and they didn't care. They misgendered me the entire time I was there. I had hit my head hella hard on the bath tub when my wife was trying to snap me out of it, did the hospital even check me for concussion? Nope. I had punched so many things and my hand and wrist were swollen and discolored. Did they check out my hand and wrist? Nope. I was there for over 10 hours before I was able to convince them I was okay and that it was just the alcohol. Did I mention during that 10 hours I was literally out in the hall on a gurney with no mask and this was when COVID was running rampant in Texas (the first time)? I heard people die that night. I had nothing to distract me because they took away all of my personal items and clothes. My wife picked me up and we went home and I have been sober ever since. It's not the first psychotic break I've had with alcohol in my system. Alcohol just doesn't agree with me, but I'm finding new things to replace it with.

TW has been lifted...it's safe now.

A couple of weeks after that I began teletherapy because I had been on the same mood stabilizer and anti-depressant for almost a decade. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense that I felt like it hadn't been working for at least a year. This is a reminder to check in with your doctor if you feel like your meds aren't working. You may just need a different dose or a new med. There's no shame in that. I bounced around on various medications trying to find the right combo, some side effects scarier than others, but we got there. Before this, I had been diagnosed with ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. My therapist threw out my Borderline diagnosis and said it was CPTSD instead, which made sense.

Fast forward to December because my wife was pregnant, I was unemployed still, and we did absolutely fuck-all because the global panini was still raging.

Our son was born on December 3, 2020. He weighed 5lbs 9oz and scared the ever loving shit out of us. He wasn't breathing when he was born so they called NICU in ASAP. I'm freaking out because I can hear and see what's going on while my wife was asking if he was okay as they put her guts back in place to sew her up. 5 or so minutes pass and a nurse asks if I want her to take some pictures. I'm like is he okay, he still hasn't cried. She's like "oh yeah, he's chillin." This goon was being held by a nurse and was just looking around not crying or anything. Chillest baby ever (he still is btw). I held him next to my wife's head until it was time to go back to the room. Little dude did have to spend 4 nights in the NICU because he couldn't keep his sugars or temperature regulated, but he was healthy otherwise. He's now 4 months old and is starting to sit up on his own a little bit and he's OBSESSED with standing. He's still a little guy, but very healthy and growing like a weed. He saves my life daily.

So after being unemployed for over 9 months, I started a new job working in a call center. I absolutely hate talking on the phone. It gives me anxiety and throws me into panic attacks, but I had been putting out hundreds of job applications since I lost my last job and this was the first offer I got. I wasn't really in a position to turn it down since my unemployment had ran out 2 months prior. It was 2 months of training, then we'd be on our own. I got thru the training and thought I could handle it...until they started putting us on live calls with someone helping us if we got stuck. My mental health hit the lowest point it had in a few years and my wife was terrified she was going to lose me. She convinced me to quit on February 28th (not because I didn't want to, but because I'm a stubborn ass who felt guilty). My meds got tweaked a little bit more dosage wise during this mess.

Starting about mid-February, I was experiencing severe shakiness, tremors, and spasms. I've always been a shaky person and never really thought too much about it, but at some points I could barely feed myself, or get a drink, or hold my son. On March 7th, I tried to make an appointment with my doctor about the weird symptoms I was experiencing, but she was out of town and her next opening wasn't until the 31st. My body said that won't work and my wife rushed me to the ER on the 9th...I had begun having seizures that day. I had no previous history of seizures. Got to the ER and had a seizure literally as I was walking thru the door, so they rushed me straight back. They took some blood and that was literally it. No MRI. No CT. They pumped me full of Ativan and said it was just a panic attack and to go home and chill.

Spoiler Alert: It wasn't just anxiety. I was having 20+ seizures a day. On the 10th, my wife rushed me to a different hospital...the good hospital over an hour away. First we had to drop off our gremlin with my mom to make things a little easier. Yet again, I had a seizure as I walked in the door and was taken back immediately. I don't really remember much because they kept pumping me full of Ativan and morphine because I had been in excruciating pain from the number of seizures I'd had. I do remember them doing a CT pretty quickly after I got there. Then they weren't happy with the results of the CT, so they took me to get an MRI, which showed possible signs of Multiple Sclerosis (but I didn't find that out until AFTER the notes showed up in my patient portal after being home a few days, so I raised hell...more on that later.) They did a 24 hour EEG on me and it showed nothing abnormal. Also, EEG glue is a bitch on your hair and scalp. After looking at everything and given my previous mental health history, they diagnosed me with Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizures, or PNES. It is a subset of Functional Neurologic Disorder, or FND. I couldn't walk well anymore and had to use a walker when I was discharged. I was in the hospital for 3 days.

When I had my follow-up appointment on the 23rd, I asked why the possibility of MS was never mentioned to me since it was very clearly in the notes. The doctor didn't have an explanation. He called in a referral to neurology so I could get a 2nd MRI to confirm MS and marked it as high priority. He also didn't take my pain seriously. My pain levels had been at a 5 or higher every single minute since they took me off of the morphine in the hospital. He told me to keep taking prescription strength doses of ibuprofen and Tylenol, which I had been. I let him know I had been and it didn't even take the edge off the pain. He ignored me. Leading up to this appointment, I had also added urinary incontinence to my growing list of symptoms and was forced to wear diapers so I didn't have to do laundry all the time. The doctor also took me off my ADHD meds because they were lowering my seizure threshold. He also took me off of my sleeping meds and nightmare meds for the same reason I'm assuming.

I kept my appointment on the 31st with my primary doctor because she's been my doctor for 5 years now and I knew she'd take my pain seriously. She did. She immediately wrote me prescriptions for a muscle relaxer and Tylenol 4. She also told me that my referral had been rejected by neuro. She said my case wasn't a good one for what she called a "wallet biopsy" and the doctors in neurology could be real assholes. She immediately sent the referral to other locations to get an approval. I am still waiting on that despite it being marked as high priority. She wrote me a prescription for a wheelchair because we both agreed my wheelchair was not enough for particular days.

Yesterday my wheelchair was finally ready for pickup, so my wife drove me to go get it. I'm still unable to drive due to my seizures and my tremors and twitches as it's predominantly in my legs and arms. I am an ambulatory wheelchair user now. Some days I can go short distances without my walker, some days I can't go without my walker, some days I can't even get out of bed, and some days I will be using my wheelchair. Don't judge a book by its cover, not all disabilities are visible. I have managed to keep my daily seizure count down in single digits and have even had a few seizure free days. They are still incredibly taxing on my body. I feel like I can't ever replenish my spoons fast enough to keep up with anything in my life.

So all in all, life has been chaotic. We are moving from Texas to New Mexico in the next few weeks, which should be interesting considering I can't overdo it without throwing myself into seizures. We will be closer to my mother-in-law so she can help us with our son and I can start resting a bit more on the more difficult days. Being a stay-at-home dad with an invisible illness has been one of the most challenging things I've done in my life, but I wouldn't change it for the world.

Sorry this is so long. I just wanted to update my followers since it's been over a year since I posted before a few days ago.

[timmyteehill]

Discord Thread || Antoni&Tee-01

Discord text thread featuring: Tee & @antonirenaldi

When: 2nd April 2021

Mentions: N/A​

Description: Tee and Tony meet up in person for the first time before the other starts working at his therapy clinic. Tony tells him about his divorce.

Trigger Warnings: talk of divorce

Antoni.

The last time Antoni had spoken with Timothy Hill, he'd been a happily married man en route to a bigger city for a bigger life. Now, as he nursed a whiskey and waited for his boss to arrive, he felt like a completely different person, needing to remind himself that he was just as capable of doing his job now as he had been a few weeks before. It wasn't as though he'd been hired for his home-life, he assured himself, swallowing the last of his self-doubt with a sip of his drink. And if this doesn't work out, you'll just go back home - whatever that means. Spotting a familiar face approaching his table, Antoni stood, forcing a smile and extending a hand. "There he is. How are things?" 

Tee

Tee couldn’t be prouder of the way his clinic was going. The number of clients were increasing and they all had great things to say about the service offered. It was going well enough that he needed to hire more people to help him out although maybe that wasn’t that surprising considering the drama and issues everyone living in Kingsboro seemed to have. Antoni was the perfect candidate and he did amazingly in their online interview so it was no hardship for Tee to offer him a job at Wellbeing Therapeutics. Although they chatted during their online interview and over the phone a few times, he was still excited to actually meet him in person. Tee saw the other sitting at one of the tables as soon as he walked in and he made his over. Antoni looked friendly enough but something seemed different than when he interviewed him, although Tee couldn’t put his finger on what. “It’s great to finally meet you in person”, he smiled, shaking his hand before taking a seat. “Things are pretty great, everything’s in full swing to welcome you on board.” 

Antoni.

“Definitely,” he agreed, sitting when Tee did. He liked the man’s demeanor, a refreshing change from the vastly older, borderline stodgy men he’d worked under in the past. He’d been a little surprised at just how young his new boss was, but everything had pointed to it being a positive thing; they’d developed an easy banter, and Antoni didn’t feel a constant need to assert or prove himself. “That’s great. I’ve looked into all the files, and I feel prepped for the new clients.” Everything was perfect, except for the small fact that - A server came by for Tee’s drink order, interrupting Tony’s line of thinking. When she left, he added, “The menu here looks great. You like this place?”

Tee

Tee knew that it wasn’t common to find someone his age already with his own therapy clinic but it was one of the perks of having rich parents who supported his dreams and endeavors. It wasn’t uncommon for others in his sector to look down on him for his age though. Like that guy he interviewed before Antoni who pursed his lips in judgement when he saw Tee was the one interviewing him and tried to pass him off as a joke. That was probably one of the reasons him and Antoni hit it off so well from the get go. If the other was uncomfortable over his age, he never showed it. “That’s great. The clinic keeps growing every day with more people calling for appointments so me and another psychologist aren’t really enough to keep it going on our own. I was thinking of eventually hiring other professionals like speech and occupational therapists but one thing at a time”, he joked, knowing it was best not to get too ahead of himself. Tee ordered himself a drink when the server came by, and was grateful when they didn’t make a big deal in front of Antoni. Most of the people working at Urban Cajun were like a family to him and treated him as such but they also knew when he was at a professional dinner and kept their boundaries. “I love the menu here, I’m a huge seafood lover. I feel like I kind of have to say that I love it, even if I hated it though or my mum would have my head.” It was best to get it out there instead of having the other find out on his own. “My parents kind of own this place.” 

Antoni.

“Oh, hey, that’s great. My son actually sees a speech therapist, and it’s been really beneficial. They were thinking he maybe didn’t have strong enough muscles in his cheeks to form certain words? They had us give him ice water with lemon to get him to learn how to pucker his lips, and now he’s pretty much at his 24-month milestones. It’s great, all the techniques they have.” Antoni took up a menu, although he’d already perused it while he’d waited for Tee, listening as the man spoke. He looked up at the new information, dark brows raised in appreciation. “Really? That must be awesome, how long have they had it? I’m huge on seafood too, there’s this place on the coast we go every summer ...” His voice trailed off and the bright expression on his face fell a bit. “Actually, speaking of families, I should probably give you an update.” 

Tee

Tee had some basic knowledge when it came to speech impediments but definitely not enough to be able to offer solutions and techniques so he always ended up referring his clients to a speech therapist friend of his. It would be so much better to have one working at the clinic so that all of the services could be offered under one roof but this sort of thing took time and planning. He wanted to see for himself that Antoni was settling in nicely before he would even consider recruiting anyone else. "You're right, and you know what they say. This sort of sector is multidisciplinary and we all have to work together in order to reach the final goal." Tee nodded, smiling a little shyly. Not everyone took the news that his parents were successful business owners very well, especially when they figured out that was the reason why he could afford to open his own clinic at such a young age. "I think they've had this place for close to twenty-one years at this point. They started off with this one in Kingsboro then gradually started opening up in more places." Tee noticed the way Antoni's expression shut down and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Okay...what's up?"

Antoni.

“Well, it’s - nothing that will affect my job performance, I can assure you,” except for the lack of sleep and the noticeable increase in my drinking habits a darker part of his mind amended, but Antoni pushed on. “My wi- uh, Gabrielle ... didn’t make the move with me. We’re separated, and we’ve begun divorce proceedings.” The words sounded foreign in his mouth, and he washed down the taste of them with another swig of whiskey. “She’s in Boston, with Luca. I’ll need to leave on Friday afternoons to either spend the weekends there or bring him back with me, and then returning on Sundays. I’m fine with front loading my appointments towards the beginning of the week to make up for the later half of Friday, if that’s alright with you.” He hated the way his circumstances painted him. He felt like a failure, and realized he hadn’t been meeting the man’s eyes. 

Tee

Tee could tell that their conversation had taken on a serious note but he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Especially when Antoni said it wasn't something that was going to affect the way he carried out his job. Whatever it was, he definitely wasn't expecting the other to tell him that he and his wife were getting divorced. It's not like Tee knew much about his private life; their interview was meant to discuss work-related issues and Tee was never really the kind of person to pry but Antonu had mentioned being happily married and having a son. He even mentioned how the whole family was excited to make the move to Kingsboro after Tee contacted him to let him know he got the job. So to be told that from the last time they talked to now things had gotten so bad that the couple had already begun divorce proceedings...it shocked him. "Shit." It was the first thing that came to mind and he couldn't hold back the curse. This wasn't something that Tee could relate to. While he's had his fair share of relationships ending badly, he was never married but he could imagine that if he was going through something like that, he wouldn't appreciate others making a big deal out of it. "Don't worry about appointments. If you want to take on less clients to give you more liberty to come and go...we'll figure something out." 

Antoni.

"Oh, no," Antoni countered, waving a hand in the air as if to brush away the smoke from the bomb he'd just dropped into Tee's lap. "Less clients doesn't seem necessary. Work will probably be a welcome distraction." He tried to smile, but it was thin and tight. "I'd like to do what I came here to do, if that's still alright with you." Thankfully, a waitress appeared tableside to see if they'd decided on dinner, and Tony felt the tension in his shoulders lessen a bit. "I'll have whatever he's having," he quipped, handing over his menu. "I have a feeling he knows what's good here."  

Tee

Tee wasn't sure if the other was actually being honest or if this was his way of trying to make a good impression on his new employer. Giving him fewer clients wouldn't be a problem. Tee might never have been married but he knew first hand how much a breakup could hurt, especially if it came out of the blue. Pushing Antoni wouldn't be a good idea, especially about something which was probably a very sensitive subject so he just nodded and dropped it. "Whatever you want." Handing over the menu which he hadn't even opened, Tee smiled at their server. "I'll have the soup of the day to start with and the spaghetti seafood." 

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

you mentioned something a little while back about trauma anniversaries? would you be comfortable explaining what it means and what its about?

Sure thing. 

So.. trauma anniversaries are complicated, and vary from person to person, but the general idea is that when one experiences a traumatic event (or events, plural, centered around a specific time period), the brain/body stores that information and (as with other PTSD reactions) sometimes has an uncontrollable and unpredictable response to it. 

“Many trauma survivors experience challenging “anniversary reactions,”  which are defined as ‘unique set[s] of unsettling feelings, thoughts or memories that occur on the anniversary of a significant experience.’ When a survivor finds themselves in the midst of a trauma anniversary, they often are forced to re-live feelings from the traumatic event, causing symptoms like increased anxiety, depression, trouble sleeping, loss of appetite, nightmares, and irritable outbursts.”

Our bodies hold on to trauma in an effort to protect us, but sometimes those signals get mixed and bad feelings get tied to a time period, which is not particularly useful in most cases. 

This time of year makes me a bit wonky in general, with the changing of the seasons and the temperature drop, but October is also an anniversary for an event that changed my life and dramatically impacted my mental health... and I didn’t realize that it was affecting me until I was already deep in it this go round. 

I hate talking about it like this, because of the age old dichotomy of “it wasn’t that bad” and “it was bad enough and it’s affecting me”. I’m still working on accepting this stuff without falling into the mental trap that I’m “whining about nothing” and that “other people have it worse”. They do. Someone always does. But that doesn’t mean that the stuff that’s happened to me isn’t bad. 

I don’t know how much information you’re looking for, or if you’re asking about my experience specifically, but I’m still a bit off so what the hell. 

I already have issues with fall and the beginning of the school year for various reasons that I won’t go into. So this time of year is always tricky. But...

For those who don’t already know, five years and fifteen days ago, I called my grandmother and she told me she was going to kill herself. I was the only one home, I had just turned 23 years old two weeks beforehand, she had told me she was having a hard time affording some things, and I had offered to make her an appointment with a therapist and with a new primary care physician and to pay for it all so she could keep taking her medication. 

I called to ask her what day might work for an appointment so I could take the time off work, pick her up, take her to lunch, and then drive her to the appointment, and she told me she was going to kill herself. She told me she had been saving up her pills, and that’s why she hadn’t been taking them. She told me she had discussed it with my grandfather, and that he knew and was ok with it, and they were going through their belongings so there would be “less for him to deal with” once she was gone and that she was “surprised I hadn’t caught on sooner”. 

I kept her on the phone, kept her talking on my cell, and grabbed the home phone to start calling anyone I could think of. My mom, my dad, my aunt (with whom I had only reconciled five days before-- big misunderstanding, but still a lot), my mom’s cousin... no one would answer. 

By the time my mom got home, I had been on the phone with my grandmother for over an hour, mid panic attack, and I was hyperventilating so hard I couldn’t see and I couldn’t stand. Your limbs go all tingly when you don’t retain enough carbon dioxide, and I remember trying to walk to her and collapsing. I gasped out an explanation, my mom took the reins, and we were able to get in touch with my aunt and get the necessary medical professionals on hand to give my grandmother a psychiatric evaluation and put her on a 72 hour hold. 

We were at the hospital until nearly 4 in the morning before a nurse told us that they legally couldn’t release my grandmother because the doctor had mandated a three day safety hold, and that we should go home and get some rest. By the time we made it home, there was a message on our answering machine that a county examiner had released her and there was nothing more they could do. 

I found out later, much later, that she had never stopped taking her meds. She’d never said a word to my grandfather. She had no intention of killing herself. She wanted a reaction from me, and she got one. She called my cousins and told them I was a liar. She called family members who have never even met me and told them how awful I am, and that I make things up for attention.

I waited a little over a week to call her. I recorded the call, so that I’d have proof if I needed it. It’s still on my harddrive somewhere. Two plus hours of her calling me a liar, telling me that conversation never happened, telling me that she’s ashamed of me, that she hopes no one in their right mind ever loves me because I’m a monster, that she pities my friends and anyone who has the misfortune of knowing me because I’ll stab them in the back too as soon as I want some attention. The list goes on and on. 

That continued for a while. Whether or not it’s true, when someone you love tells you things over and over again, you can’t help but wonder. 

I started having dreams that she was hitting me, and that people were letting her do it. I started having dreams that I was in a loving, committed relationship but came home one day to a seething partner who had just gotten off the phone with her and realized I was a worthless liar, and of them, too, turning abusive. I started having dreams that I was alone at the bottom of a deep, dark hole, and no one could hear me or try to get me out. 

She decided one day that we were going to pretend nothing had ever happened, and I was forced to play along. All the while she’d still call and say awful things to me, then show up at family gathering like nothing was wrong. She’d say one thing to me, another to my family, and call me a liar to my face and behind my back. She kept telling friends and family that I was being abusive and manipulative to her. 

It hit the point that I truly, genuinely couldn’t remember what she had said in that initial call, and I worried I had made it all up. Gaslighting at it’s finest. 

It’s taken years to realize it, but every interaction I had with her following that date has been either abuse or manipulation. She spent months and months refusing to speak to me unless it was to tell me how horrible I am, then like flipping a switch one day I came home and there was a gift on my front porch from her. She’d ease up for a while, then suddenly be awful again. My entire life, she had always been the epitome of a perfect grandma... she’d take me on outings, buy me little gifts, bake with me at the holidays, sing songs with the grandkids, loved playing with us, we’d talk for hours on the phone, they came to dinner frequently. And now... it’s like a veil has been lifted and she’s unrecognizable.

I tried to maintain a relationship with her. She screamed at everyone at Easter a few years back that her silverware was more important to her than a relationship with me. I kept trying. She told a lawyer that my mom and I had “stolen her medical records” and were “forcing her to have medical procedures against her will”. I kept trying. She threatened to send a police officer to our house, accusing me of stealing. I kept trying. 

And finally, last fall, I called to wish her a happy birthday, she began a tangent, and I realized I was so tired. I asked her outright if she wanted a relationship with me. She told me she couldn’t be bothered to think about it. I haven’t spoken to her since. 

That one phone call cost me so, so much. I lost my relationship with my grandmother and my grandfather, by extension. Other family members have questioned if I’m lying to them, or if I made things up. I’ve questioned if I made things up. 

In the midst of all of this, my father also completely shifted and I don’t know why. He started picking fights with me, almost constantly. If I tried to change the subject, I was too stupid to have a discussion. If I stayed silent, I clearly knew I was wrong. If I said anything in reply, I was lying. He throws things, when he’s mad. He kicks things. He used to punch walls. My mom has since said to me that if she had any idea that he would turn into this person, she wouldn’t have married him. Sometimes he’s great, sometimes he’s awful. I never know which version I’ll be dealing with. 

I’ve spent nearly five straight years in therapy trying to deal with this. My original goal was not to hate my grandmother, or my father. It had to adapt to not hating myself because of what they said to me. 

So October is hard. Because October is when my mind and body unconsciously remember things changing. Relationships I’d always counted on turned abusive. Nothing I said or did was safe. It’s dangerous. 

I blew past the actual anniversary just feeling sort of... jittery. I’ve spent a few weeks feeling withdrawn and anxious and not knowing why. I had a noticeable uptick in old thought patterns and intrusive thoughts about self worth, self harm, etc. 

Whether or not it’s logical, whether or not it makes sense... my self preservation has locked onto this time of year as unsafe, and it falls into old patterns in an attempt at protection. Old patterns include anxiety, difficulty eating regularly, issues with self worth, withdrawing from others, emotions very close to the surface, and a few other things. 

And that’s where I’m at. 

I’m ok, and I’ll be ok. I’ve got some experience dealing with this under my belt now, and I still see my therapist regularly. I’m talking to her next week. At the moment, I’m just trying to take care of me however it makes sense, and not doing anything dangerous or dumb. 

So... that’s what I mean by trauma anniversary. 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Assessing the Situation (baon)

Summary: Edge needs a mental health assessment to continue working at the Embassy.

Notes: I am not a therapist! My psych classes were a long time ago and I only have my own experiences to go by, so hey, take all of this with a grain of salt.Please be aware there is a mention of past suicidal thoughts, in case you find that triggering.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Therapy, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Doctor Lee resisted the urge to recross her legs as she watched her newest patient prowl around her office, inspecting the shelves. The tall skeleton’s expression did not change as he looked at the books and knickknacks, the plants that required only the barest minimum of sunlight and care.

“Your office is very clean,” Edge announced.

“I’ll be sure to relay that to the janitorial staff,” Lee said lightly. “I’m certain they’ll appreciate it.” She’d meant it as somewhat humorous, but Edge only nodded solemnly and still did not sit.

Doctor Lee only waited. Technically, her sessions usually ran about an hour, give or take depending on a patient’s current state or breakthrough. She took on patients sparingly and could afford to be discriminating. Her PhD was in Psychology and these days she was considering adding a clinical Monster psych specializing in PTSD to her resume. It was certainly an underappreciated field, though in her opinion, not an unexpected one. Monsters coming to the surface after years of being imprisoned under a Mountain, most for their entire lifetime and there were certain other issues that she couldn’t have begun to guess at when the first call came into her office. Alternate universes with alternate people, each with their own surrounding phenomenon; it was something of a learning experience for all of them. But trauma was trauma, that was her specialty and it was admittedly satisfying helping these people, and yes, they were people despite what a few of her so-called colleagues thought. These people needed her kind of help and Lee was here to offer it, in whatever way their trauma necessitated.

If that meant waiting for a skeleton whose visible scars likely only scratched the surface of his internal ones to become comfortable enough to sit, she would.

Doctor Lee had been in practice for some time before Monsters arrived in Ebott. She was middle-aged and in good health. Her carefully coiffed hair was naturally gray. No one would call her beautiful, but often she’d been described as handsome, with a certain resemblance to Glenn Close.

Considering resemblances, Edge held only the slightest to his husband. His appearance was likely a little disconcerting to most humans when they first met him, startling to people who weren’t used to seeing bare skulls outside of a filmed production. It was an unfortunate consequence of Monsters entering into the realm of myth before they resurfaced. There was no getting around the fact that in appearance, Monsters were very different than humans, and nothing but time would ease it. Of all the skeletons she’d met thus far, Edge was likely the most intimidating, with his glaring red eye lights and his fiercely sharp teeth. The natty way he was dressed was nearly incongruous, the line of his sleek, professional suit broken only by the splint strapped around one leg. The contrast to Papyrus’s near slovenliness was a point of interest, one that she discreetly added to her notes.

Normally, she wouldn’t have taken on a patient who was related to anyone she was already seeing; it could make for at best a conflict of interest and at worst, unconsciously taking sides. She’d already made an exception for Papyrus since she was already seeing Sans, but in their situation, she’d felt her familiarity with what Sans called ‘resets’ would be an advantage.

This was a special case and despite a discrete call from King Asgore encouraging her to take it on, she still wouldn’t have if she didn’t truly believe she could handle it, and she did. So she waited until Edge finally chose one of the chairs, settling into it with uncomfortably straight posture and looking directly at her with an intent crimson gaze. “I suppose you want to discuss the events in California.”

“We can,” Doctor Lee said, easily, “Do you want to talk about them?”

“No. But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” Edge said. His voice was crisp, businesslike, as if calling a meeting into order. “I’m here for you to give me a mental health assessment.”

“I’m only supposed to judge whether or not you should be back to work. We can talk about anything you like.”

“And if I don’t want to talk about anything?”

“That would be your choice,” Doctor Lee said, holding that calm, easy tone. “But it would make it difficult for me to make an assessment.”

Edge looked away, down at his trousers, frowning as he picked away invisible lint. “My husband doesn’t know I’m here. Not yet. Stretch. You told me before that he asked you to call him Papyrus.”

“I can’t discuss his therapy,” she began warningly

Edge waved that away. “I know that, I won’t ask. Did you know that my name is Papyrus as well?”

“I didn’t,” she admitted. She also did not write it down. Patients like this one were why she no longer wore glasses, to keep them from reading what she wrote in their reflection.

Now that he had a topic, Edge seemed to latch onto it. “That’s a rather long story. To simplify it, when I came here there were three of us named Papyrus and it was decided we needed nicknames. He took the name Stretch and I became Edge.” A pause, almost too brief to note, “There are times I think I shed the name Papyrus with unseemly haste, but the truth is, I don’t miss it. Stretch is less content with the choice, I think.” Edge fell into a considering silence, then said, “Do you suppose that it’s weaker to be so willing to abandon yourself than to try to remake it?”

Interesting and unexpected. Carefully, Doctor Lee asked, “Why would it be weaker?”

He didn’t answer that, only went on, “In my world…my former world…being unable to protect what’s yours is…was… a death sentence. Stretch usually allows me the illusion that I’m protecting him. And it is an illusion.” Edge seemed unaware of the way his hand drifted, fingering the Velcro straps of his leg splint. “He lets me care for him because he understands.” Edge smiled a little and the change in his face was remarkable, the way the sudden fond warmth eased the stark lines, “And I’m sure he enjoys it as much as I enjoy caring for him. I want to do little things for him, you understand? I want to make him happy.”

Another long silence that Doctor Lee made no attempt to fill, waiting until Edge spoke again, “You’re aware that he is much braver than I am.”

“Is he?” Lee said, neutrally. She set aside her notepad and instead, knotted her hands in her lap.

Edge nodded. “Oh, yes. It’s easy for me to play at courage. Stand and attack, stand and defend. But he comes in here,” he gestured vaguely at the room, “and opens his soul to you. You don’t think that’s brave?”

“I do, actually. It can be very difficult to take that first step,” Lee hesitated, then added, “I’m not sure I ever expected you to be in my office like this.”

“So you do think I’m less courageous than he is,” Edge countered, “that I would be unwilling to do what I’d demanded of him?” He smiled faintly. “You’re right. We wouldn’t be together much less married if Stretch…Papyrus… weren’t more courageous than I am.”

“Edge, you encouraged Stretch to come to therapy.” That was hardly breaking confidence to say.

“No.” He shook his head. “I forced him to come with an ultimatum.”

“Why?”

“Because he was hurting, and I couldn’t stand to see it. I was too weak to see it.” Edge hesitated, “I…I don’t know what he’s told you.”

Doctor Lee only sat, waiting.

“He’s been through so much and he allows me to protect him, as if he needs me,” Edge chuckled humorlessly. “Even I don’t know all the details of what he went through. People are always morbidly fascinated with Underfell, that I survived it, that I have LV. None of them look at Stretch and have any idea the strength he possesses. He made it through a living hell and still has it in himself to smile.

“So yes, I want him to have therapy. I want him to be able to feel safe and protected without lifting a finger of his own. I want him to feel loved because I love him.” A laundry list of wants, only for him to add, softer, “And perhaps it pains me to know what he’s been through but that’s nothing in comparison to what it’s done to him.”

He stood abruptly and wandered over to the window where bright sunshine was pouring in. Outside, she knew there was a tree, a strip of grassy land with a landscaped border of flowers before it led to the parking lot. Edge looked out the window as he said, softly, “The greatest shame of my life is that I didn’t realize when we first met that he wanted to die, and he simply couldn’t do it himself.”

Doctor Lee knew that situation, remembered the day, many therapy appointments in when Papyrus finally spoke so flatly about his past suicidal thoughts until that unfeelingness broke down somewhere in the middle into tears and she suspected very much that Edge did not. “It isn’t your fault you didn’t realize.”

“No, it’s not,” Edge said agreeably and every word was a denial. He slanted a glance back at Doctor Lee. “Did he ever tell you about our first kiss?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” she countered.

Closed his sockets briefly, opened them, then stepped away from the window. He moved restlessly, tucking his hands into his pockets. Perhaps resisting the urge to fidget. “I’m not here to discuss that,” he said, then almost immediately after, “He’s my everything.”

“Do you think that’s a good thing, for him to be everything for you?”

The look he cast her way was scathing. “You aren’t clever, and I was being hyperbolic. Obviously, I have other things in my life and so does he, we have plenty of our own hobbies, our own work.”

“All right.” Neutral, gentle, as she watched Edge pace, again prowling her office, this time with the restless energy of a caged tiger.

“He can be so frustrating!” A sudden burst of almost unwilling words, “He keeps secrets from me, but he’ll show me his very essence and I tell him nothing but truths and can’t do the same!”

“His essence?” Doctor Lee leaned forward, intrigued. “That doesn’t sound like a metaphor.”

“It’s not. He’ll let me see his soul,” Edge whispered, hushed and reverent. He pulled his hands out of his pockets to look at his spread, empty fingers, the thin bones covered by black gloves. “Let me touch it. That’s an incredibly intimate thing to Monsters. It takes an extreme amount of trust. His soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and when I hold it, I can feel how much he loves me. And I can’t show him mine in return.”

He fell silent. “Why not?” Doctor Lee asked, offering him the question he seemed to need.

“Because!” Edge snarled. He was breathing harshly, heaving, and she held her own breath, almost ready to call an end to this session; it was already far deeper than she’d expected to delve in a first appointment, falling down a mine shaft in terms of psychology, and she could only wonder how long he’d been waiting to say these things, how long they’d been trapped festering inside him, dammed up until the floodgates broke. He took a long, steadying breath, another, then said, achingly soft, “Because if he looked at the very essence of my being and rejected me, I…I couldn’t—I know he wouldn’t. I know that. And by equal measure, I know he would. That if he saw what I truly am, he would. Is it selfish of me to not want to take the chance?”

Doctor Lee chose her words carefully, “I’m not sure I’m qualified to judge anything about sharing souls. But I know that Humans can have a difficult time sharing their most intimate secrets with others. I don’t think that it makes you selfish to have a difficult time making yourself vulnerable.”

It was the wrong thing to say. She realized it almost immediately as his expression closed off. Edge nodded stiffly and made an obvious show of glancing at his phone as he said dismissively, “I believe our time is up, thank you for seeing me, Doctor—”

“Edge, why are you here?” Doctor Lee interrupted. She spread her hands, indicating her clean office, with its cozy chairs and uncomfortable questions. “What do you want from this?”

“I needed an assessment to return to work,” he said immediately, “I have a responsibility to our kind and they need me. Rus trusts you with his mental health, so I must be able to trust you with mine.”

She had no doubt he truly believed that, as far as that went. “What is it you think Papyrus wants from me?”

Edge frowned. “He needs professional support and you provide it.”

“Yes.” She studied him closely. “Do you resent that?”

It could be difficult for her to accurately assess a Monster’s facial expressions, but there was no mistaking Edge’s sudden sharp anger as he snapped out, “Why would I resent him for things he can’t control?”

“I didn’t ask if you resented him,” Cool, calm, always. “I asked if you resented that I can support him when you can’t.”

That flash of anger collapsed inwardly and for the briefest moment, Edge looked uncertain, “I…no. No, it’s only…I want to support him, but in some areas, I simply can’t.” And then, as if his own honestly was upsetting, “But I would never make him feel that I resent him!”

“Of course not,” Doctor Lee soothed, “That’s why I’m here, to give you a place to direct that anger and resentment. I can be your lightning rod if that’s what you need.”

“I’m not sure what I need,” Edge admitted. That it displeased him was obvious. Doctor Lee was positive that this was a person who did not like being unsure about anything.

She hadn’t been sure herself, at first, whether she could accept him as a patient past the assessment. Now she only said, “We could work on that, too. If you want.”

He stood there silently, and she didn’t think she imagined the lingering flicker of his uncertainty.

“Do you know why Papyrus really came to see me, that first time?” Doctor Lee said. She waited, holding back the answer until Edge shook his head. “Because the truth is, he wanted help. I can’t offer that to someone who is completely adverse. Can I be frank with you?”

“I’d prefer it.”

“Yes, therapy might help you. But it isn’t a requirement. You’re getting through your day to day life without issues, am I correct?”

“You are.”

“And sleeping through your nights. You’re happy enough with your status quo. Would therapy help? It might. Growth can be painful,” she said, and it wasn’t a warning, only a truth, “But we are usually better for it. If you decide to eventually try therapy, it will be here when you’re ready.”

Edge nodded, slowly, and seemed to be considering her words. He said, “I still need an assessment done. Will you send one to Asgore?”

“I was prepared to send that right when you proved you were able to walk through my door,” Doctor Lee admitted, “I think you’re perfectly capable of returning to work.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Edge gave her a formal nod and only waited for her to return it before he turned on his heel and walked out, hindered only by his slight limp.

She watched him go and waited until the door closed behind him before she sighed, deeply. She could only help those who wanted to be helped and that was the truth, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t be frustrated when the offered hand was ignored.

Her notepad was still sitting on the side table. She picked it up and instead of working on her notes, doodled a little picture of a chicken, cartoonishly absurd. Papyrus kept chickens and spoke about them often with great fondness. Once, he’d even brought her a carton of eggs, after nervously asking her about the ethics of such a gift. They’d been delicious poached on toast.

She was adding a cartoon bubble over its head with the unimaginative dialogue of ‘cluck it’ when her phone buzzed with a text message. She picked up the phone and unlocked it, reading the message from a known, unexpected number.

Please let me know your available appointment times for next week.

Doctor Lee smiled.

-finis-

[i-am-gusu]

I have read Wei Ying’s post. From before. At last. I feel… conflicted about them.

I know that everything went badly because I read Wei Ying’s blog posts. But, after I was done reading them… I regret not listening to Huaisang and reading when he told me to.

There is definitely some of that that still hurts. “Tender spots to work on,” the therapist said. It’s exactly what she wanted us to find with me reading these. But… Now that I am done reading the posts, I see it. How much Wei Ying loves me. How deeply. Even during the worst of everything… He still loved me. Even as I didn’t deserve any forgiveness nor compassion… He was still hoping for us to meet again. 

The first days, when he was still under the RE… Those were hard to read. But… I am still… Deeply touched and awed that Wei Ying… That you…

Wei Ying. I never stopped loving you, not even once, not even during that whole week. I want you to know that. I want you to know that there is nothing you can ever say or do that will ever stop me from loving you. Even if you wish to leave, to go away, I will still love you. There has only ever been you. There will only ever be you. 

As… ironic as it sounds now, I wish I had read these posts. I would have found hope in them. But… I also know that, realistically, it might have broken something else. 

I am glad to have discovered them now. I am glad that you still loved me. I am glad you came back. Glad and grateful. So grateful. 

Wei Ying. I love you. I like you, too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me again?

…

I am aware that the whole exercise was not for the purpose of loving you more. I will not, however, reject this unexpected side-effect. 

I have much to talk about with my therapist next Wednesday. We’ve been talking a lot about my relationship with my family lately. There is… a lot to unpack there. I am aware this is a euphemism. We talked about Uncle’s visits to the café. He still comes. Every Thursdays, he shows up at the same hour, sits at the same place. Wei Ying has noticed him too, although I can see he keeps his distance with him when he comes downstairs to eat something (he has Thursdays off). A-Yuan doesn’t seem to have the same hesitations, however. Last week, he was there when Uncle was sitting at his table. And A-Yuan… He’s very curious and sociable. He has befriended every customer that happens to be in the café at the same time he is, and sometimes, when someone is particularly inclined to talk with him, he sits with them. We all keep an eye on him, just in case, but he tends to stay with the regulars most of the time, and I can see that they adore him as much as we do. 

He went to Uncle that day. I think A-Yuan might have been put at ease already because Banana was sitting next to Uncle, and the bunnies are only allowed with the most regular of our customers. A-Yuan just sat at his table with his colouring books and some crayons and started talking with Uncle, telling him about his day. 

I am… I thought Uncle would push him away. Tell him to keep quiet. I was ready to tell Uncle to leave if he did. I remember feeling so tense, watching, waiting. Wei Ying was not downstairs yet when it happened. But then, Uncle just… listened to him. Nodded when appropriate. I even saw a hint of a smile at one point and… 

…

I felt jealous… It’s stupid. It’s shameful… Even though my therapist said it’s not, I know it is… I felt jealous because A-Yuan was receiving more consideration from my Uncle than I did at his age… My therapist suggested that perhaps I did receive that kind of attention but forgot about it later on when things changed. “Or perhaps, he is trying to make amends and showing you how it could be from now on,” she added. She knows he has been coming to the café more often. She knows about the last time we fought, after learning more about Mom. I’m just… not so sure about what he truly wants. Or, rather, I’m not so sure I want to let him do what he wants.

Xichen talks with him more often than I do, that I know. But he still allows me to take my time. I think he’s happy that I haven’t kicked Uncle out of the café yet. Sometimes, he comes at the same time as Uncle and sits with him. They haven’t asked me to sit with them yet when they are there. I don’t know if I would want to if they did. 

There are… many memories I thought I had forgotten that has been coming back with therapy. I have been surprised by some more with Mom. One with Dad. I… I forgot his face. I remember Mom’s clearly. But I forgot what Dad looked like. He’s still on the pictures in Uncle’s house, I remember what he looks like on these. But I don’t remember what he looked like as a father. The memory of him is… short. A faceless kiss goodnight… It makes me angry. 

… Maybe my main problem with my family is the same with everything else. Too rigid. Too stubborn… Cannot let go… 

… I will talk about that on my appointment next Wednesday. That and that list of emotions I compiled after reading Wei Ying’s posts. It is… surprisingly short. At least compared to what I thought it would be, when I didn’t know what would wait for me in Wei Ying’s posts. Wei Ying’s love derailed all the thoughts of self-doubt and fear I had about him, about us, when I first started reading them. 

I also felt this immense gratitude towards Wei Ying’s brother, for keeping him safe, for taking care of him. When I saw him for the first time after our wedding, I told him he could punch me in the face. I was ready for it. I deserved it after all. Wei Ying didn’t want him to. Jiang Cheng knows that the offer is still on the table, should he ever wish to fulfill his wish. He is a good brother in law. A great brother to Wei Ying. I truly appreciate his presence in our lives, even if I often do not understand his interactions with Wei Ying all the time.

There is still something that I know I will have to talk about. I don’t know if I want to. I know I don’t want to. 

It’s this… the memories of past bullying. I read those posts before, the ones that made me feel like I was back in school, in places where I was left aside, alone. The ones that felt more mocking in tone. They made me feel the same way again. 

I know it has nothing to do with Wei Ying. This is not his doing. But… My therapist said that more than 20 years of living with the rigidity of my Uncle’s rules left deep marks that I am here to heal. Perhaps… Perhaps almost 20 years of mistreatment outside of the house left these too. 

I don’t want to call it that. Mistreatment. I know it was bullying. But I don’t want to call it that. I don’t want to… I just keep hearing Uncle tell me to ignore them. Ignore them. Ignore them. And… I want to keep doing that. Even though I know it hurt me. Even though I know it hurts me still, in these smaller ways. I know it does, because Wei Ying’s posts wouldn’t have hurt like that if it wasn’t. 

It is on the list. 

The other thing on the list is… Still that fear that I carry. The fear that I’ll be just like my father. I know it’s still there in so many different ways. I hate him so much… It’s the only thing that Wei Ying’s love couldn’t reassure as I kept reading. Manipulation, mostly. 

… I never wrote about these things I learnt about my parents… I remember not wanting to confess to Wei Ying yet because of them. I remember wanting to push the moment further away, because I was scared. So scared… I don’t think I want to write about this yet. I want to write about it, write about my parent’s whole relationship, if only to have a clearer picture of them. If only to remember more of my mother, something I was never truly allowed to do. 

I will write about that, but not now. I did my homework, at last. I will see where it leads, next Wednesday…

Wei Ying. I love you. And I am so, so happy that we get to have something that is genuine and mutual together. Desired by the both of us. I love you so much. 

Hold me close tonight?

[vonnyphant]

To Blog or Not to Blog?

“You should start a diary and write about your experiences. It may help people going through the same thing.”

Honestly? If there’s one thing I discovered about this diagnosis, it’s that it makes me pretty damn selfish. I don’t want to help other people (not just yet, anyway). But putting some thoughts down about this time in my life may be of some sort of therapeutic value, and I do want to help myself. 

(Maybe for once, saving the world can wait. Do you remember how, soon after the pandemic hit, people stopped avoiding plastic and single-use items? When your health is at risk, suddenly rainforests and polar bears and the planet are deprioritised- not that anyone will admit to this. But this is my diary and I can say what I want!* Writing for myself it is.)

Having established my less-than-Mother-Theresa-like reasons for this blog, my conscience cleared, it’s time to start. This is where the Lifetime movie shows me, in a half daze, mellowed out on drugs while they sew a mediport into my chest to start administering chemicals. A fast lane to my bloodstream. A docking station. The soundtrack? Hopefully ‘Across The Universe’ by the Beatles (possibly Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. If I get a say in it, I veto The Walrus) Time to pump this body full of drugs that’ll make my hair fall out. 

Wait, what?

Voice Over: “Yep. That’s me. You’re probably wondering what I am doing here…” //record scratch - freeze frame - fast rewind to the psychedelic outtro of A Day In The Life//

Two months ago, during rub-a-dub-in-the-tub (less naughty than it sounds, was just washing myself), my mind inexplicably went to an episode of Beverly Hills 90210, s1 (aired in 1992- yes, I am that old), where Brenda Walsh has a breast cancer scare. I say inexplicably, because my usual shower fantasies do not include Ms Shannon Doherty - if I was going to pick a shower lady, I’d opt for Charlize Theron, Kiera Knightly or Winona Ryder in their short-hair phases, but that is neither here nor there. 

Say what you want for 90s television- weird outfits and ponytails notwithstanding, in their AfterSchoolSpecial PSA way, they dedicated a whole scene to the girls giving themselves a breast exam, including how-to instructions**, and eventhough I was only 11 years old when I saw it, I remembered what to do, and for the last 30 years, every now and then I have randomly carried it out while wondering how I always preferred Brandon over Dylan and how my tastes have changed over time.

But this time - my hand actually found something.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself down the same way I did after finding spots on my skin, lumps on my head and every time I sneezed since covid-19; by telling myself to fucking snap out of my hypochondria tendencies. One cannot go to the doctor every damn day after all. Breast tissue is pretty lumpy and I assumed it was just imaginary. I made an appointment to see a therapist, and  put it out of my mind until a few weeks later, when one of the kids came crashing down on me (literally) and faceplanted in my boob (as they do). 

Now this always hurts af, but it just hurt that little more that day, so that I grabbed the appendage in question and went “WHAT THE--!” And I felt it again- the lump, more defined than a few weeks before. 

Cue a lot more freaking out than the first time, and after a sleepless night, imagining what my funeral would look like (as one does), I decided to go to the gynocologist the same day or risk never to sleep again.

After a long wait and an ultrasound, my doctor assured me that while there really was a mass, it had every indication of being benign. We should keep an eye on it. If I was worried, I could schedule a second screening, but would not likely get an appointment before April. I scheduled one and tried to focus on preparing our first lockdown Christmas. 

But over the holidays, the lump started hurting, even when I wasn’t poking it or having a kid catapult themselves into my chest. I’d be Netflix and Chilling, and suddenly - ZAP - like someone stuck a hot needle into it. Repeatedly. My nipple would go numb or start tingling like a bodypart that fell asleep. It freaked me out, and in the new year, I realised I couldn’t wait until April - I had to get it checked out again or I may worry myself to death.

My gynocologist did another ultrasound and again, told me not to worry. I told her it was way too late for that as I had been worried for weeks, and I wanted the thing biopsied (they gave Brenda Walsh one too, after all! It’s the only way to be 100% sure). She referred me to the hospital. At the description of my symptoms, I could come directly, and the radiologist told me in no unclear terms: “I will not let you leave this room until we draw blood and take several biopsies.” Okay- not exactly what one wants to hear at that point, but at the same time, I figured knowing would be better than guessing by the shape of it.

Test results took a week. I went in, being prepared to be told (like Brenda) it was a harmless clump of random cells or a cyst we could have removed like a wart. Only it wasn’t. It was breast cancer, an aggressive, fast-growing kind, and had I waited until April, that could have had disastrous consequences.

While the doctor explained we now needed to determine the scope of the spread and take more tissue to determine what kind of chemo (if any) could be applied, all my 2020-PTSD brain could think was: 

“.............of course”. 

Didn’t hear much of what she said afterwards.

Another harrowing 4 days went by, with a CT screening with contrast solutions that gave me an intense stomach ache as well as a migraine, and finally, a fully rounded diagnosis and treatment advice could be made. 

Thankfully, all my organs as well as lymphnodes were clear, so it appears to be a localised tumor. And here we are - to fight this thing with chemicals and then cut out whatever is left. Genetics testing to see about the likelihood of a recurrency (and a possible double mastectomy if so - ‘pulling an Angelina Jolie’, ‘not saving the tatas’, insert ‘Think About It meme’...can’t have breast cancer if you don’t have breasts! THINK ABOUT IT***). 

Chances are good. I need to cling to that while I wait for this port and treatment to start. I have accepted the inevitable hair loss, have scheduled a ritual ‘crazy hair cutting party’ with my kids for this weekend (as I would rather shave it off in one go than clean up clumps and strands over the course of weeks and look like Gollum), and I have sewn several funny little hats for inside wear and ‘going out’ (though where will I be going in pandemic, idk). 

I was going to end this post on a light and happy note - but I must admit my confidence just took a really big hit in real time, as I googled how to spell Shannon’s last name for this blog entry and found out that she was treated for breast cancer in 2015, initially succesfully, but it reappeared metastasized in 2020 (again: ‘of course...when else’) and she is now in stage IV. Fuck 2020.

What are the odds that the woman whose character made me discover my own breast cancer is now, in fact, dying of the same disease? This will surely haunt me for a long time to come.

More tomorrow? Or soon? It may take a while. Until then: outro to It’s Getting Better.

*also for the record I would like to state that I’ve sewn my own masks from upcycled pillowcases and continued using fruit- and vegetable nets to avoid plastic; maybe that makes up for me being utterly selfish at the moment. Karma +1?

** https://youtu.be/pkgYXITkrfw (the scene from BH 90210)

***cis men / trans women without breasts can also get breast cancer (even though it’s rare) so this meme doesn’t really hold up, but that’s the whole point of the meme ;)

[captaincvans]

Chapter Three: Tear Me to Pieces

11/01/19

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2502+

Warnings: Language; Panic Attack; Angst; Angry!Chris; Sad!Chris

Series Masterpost

A/N: I think I’ll stick with posting biweekly (once every two weeks) as it seems to fit my schedule most. It’s been tough trying to fit writing in with my grad school, but I am trying to balance everything! You get an extra long chapter though! I hope you enjoy and pleaseee lemme know what you think! I appreciate every comment, ask about this fic 💕

“I don’t know what to do, mom,” Chris cried on the phone. He was desperate for some answers as the feeling of dread took over his heart. His career and his personal life has what he felt like being destroyed in a matter of weeks, and he was overwhelmed with so many emotions. 

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry that you’re going through all of this,” Lisa immediately cooed sympathetically. “Have you been able to see Jenna at all?” With them being so close, it was no surprise that Lisa knew the name of Chris’s therapist back in Boston. Chris had actually gone to a couple of sessions with his father, wanting to mend a few troubles the two had in a safe place. 

There was a beat of silence, and he answered with a small, “No.” 

“Oh, it’s okay, baby. Do you want me to book you an appointment with her?” Lisa was worried that Chris hadn’t been seeing anyone throughout this whole ordeal. She could tell how overwhelmed he was, and she knew he needed someone more than her at this moment. 

“S’okay. I’ll call her tonight.” 

Her heart was breaking at the sound of his defeated voice, the 38 year-old sounding more like a child, and it pulled at her heartstring. “Okay. Text me when you’re going. I’ll come by and drop you off. We can make a whole adventure out of it.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, saying goodbye to his mother before ending the call. He made an appointment with Jenna, who scheduled him in for the next day, hearing the gravity of the situation. A text pinged on his phone not long after, his personal assistant, John Diangelo, asking if he can come by. He texted back with a ‘yes’, needing a friend through this all and wanting to inform John of his manager’s crime. 

Chris sat on his couch, Dodger in the crate sensing the tension in the house. He sat there, numb and broken. It could’ve been hours and he wouldn’t have realized. The only thing that got him out of his reverie was the knock on the door. With drawn out, sluggish movements, he got to the door, opening to reveal his sympathetic PA. 

“How are you holding up, brother?” the Kansas-born man asked with a soft smile. 

“I don’t know, John. I really don’t know,” Chris whispered, sitting down on his couch with his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“Take it one day at a time. It’s all you can do,” he said, running his hand through his ginger hair. “Has the police found anything?”

“It was Daniel. He’s the one stealing money from me.”

“Holy shit,” John cursed, leaning on the wall behind Chris. 

“And while we were talking to him, he said someone else was involved.”

“Who?” John asked urgently, eyes wide in concern and anticipation. 

“Y/N.”

“No fucking way,” John muttered, his voice coming out breathier than usual. 

Chris shook his head. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe this. I was going to propose,” he confessed. 

John was at a loss of words, not knowing how to comfort the man. Anything he said would sound ingenuine. “It’ll get better, brother. At least you found out sooner than later.” 

“I guess so,” Chris mumbled. He blinked a few times, his red-rimmed eyes hurting with every blink. “I’m gonna go pack up her stuff.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, it’s alright. I can pack’em myself.” 

“Okay. I can take her stuff down once you’re finished with them, and let her know they’re ready for her to pick up if you want?”

“That would be great. Thank you, John.” With robotic movements, Chris went to the bedroom he once shared with the love of his life, and started packing. 

Six Months Later

The investigation slowed down a bit as they kept hitting roadblocks with the press. It became a more high profile case, and the attention it received hindered people from doing their job as they were harassed by the press. They were relentless once they caught a whiff of the drama unfolding in Chris’s life. He tried to keep the issue as private as possible, but it was hard to when there were so many moving parts involved- from the fraud investigators, the police officers in charge of his case, and Kevin and his accounting firm that is doing a complete audit of Chris’s finances. There were a lot of people involved, one of the was bound to sell the story to the press. 

Captain America Breaks Up with Girlfriend Over Money?

Chris Evan’s Girlfriend a Gold Digger?

Chris Evan Found to Have Fired Manager Over Fraud

Headline after headline, they wrote it all. Rumours and assumptions being thrown around, and articles that were only half truth. With the leaks of the news, there was another investigation launched to find the person who was leaking Chris’s personal information to the public. Chris couldn’t go anywhere without being followed by the press. He hired bodyguards for himself and his family, hating the fact that they were victims to his problems. 

It marked the 25th week of the investigation, the end was almost in sight. One of the newly hired fraud investigators was caught selling information to the press, and was quickly fired from the company. Everyone else had to sign a tighter non-disclosure form that was created by Chris’s legal team. 

It was a gloomy Friday, the rainy day finally easing up as peak summer hit the town of Massachusetts. Chris just finished his daily morning walk with Dodger, hating the humid rain as much as his little dog did. Scott was staying at his place for a few days, trying to distract him from it all, and trying to pull him back out of his isolation. His usual goofy self was nowhere to be seen as he became paranoid of the next person to take advantage of him. Aside from his family, he’s been ignoring a lot of his friends, and only recently gotten back in touch with them. 

Just as he finally cooled down from the AC in his house, his phone rang. 

“Hey Jason, what’s up?”

“We got some new information. Do you mind coming by the station?”

Chris sighed, rubbing his forehead. It seems like he couldn’t catch a break with all the information that was hitting him. 

“Chris? You okay?”

“Yea, yea. Sorry. Just got distracted for a bit- I can be there in half an hour or so.” 

“Alright. See you soon.” 

“You good?” Scott asked, entering the kitchen as Chris was finishing up his call. Dodger happily jumped towards him, begging to be given attention which he happily gave. 

“Yea. Jason just said they have more information and needed me to come down.”

“Want me to come with you?”

He gave a non-committal shrug. 

“Alright. Lemme just get changed, and we can go.” 

The two brothers met up with Jason and Diana Bass, she was in charge of the whole investigation and was working closely with Jason to finish everything in a timely matter. They walked to a small meeting room, both brothers refusing any refreshments as the tension built in the room. 

“While we were investigation Y/N, we found something else,” Jason said, his eyebrows pulled together anxiously. 

“What is it?” 

“We investigated all of Y/N’s accounts, and we did not find any extra deposits. Instead, we found monthly withdrawals. We followed the money, and it was going to an account created by John Diangelo, your personal assistant.”

“Fuck! Him too?” Scott growled, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder for solidarity. 

Dianna nodded sympathetically. “Unfortunately, he seemed to be the mastermind of the whole operation. We went through his files and exchanges with Ms. L/N to see what the relationship was as we thought she was sending him the money she took from you to put in an offshore account like with Daniel, but there were only brief communication from prior years, most of them regarding your schedules. There were no indications that they talked beyond your schedule. We did, however, find a letter addressed to Ms. L/N in his computer about the terms your relationship with her.”

Chris tilted his head in confusion. “What terms?”

“In this letter, it said that in the case that you broke up with her for reasons that are unequivocally her fault, she will be forced to pay back the material cost of your relationship. Any time you paid for her, whether it was dinner or anniversary gifts, she must pay it back 100%. And as far as she knows, your separation was caused because you were “unhappy with her” as she quoted in our interrogation so she paid the cost.” 

“What the fuck? We never had such agreements! That’s ridiculous- I would never make her do such things.” Chris was pissed, even more so than his staff stealing money, they were blackmailing people too. He thought they were pretty messed up to think of such things. Even in previous relationships where his girlfriend had cheated on him, lied to him, and manipulated him, he would never think to have them pay back. 

“Ms. L/N confirmed that she had signed that agreement somewhere in the two-year make of your relationship. It was given to her by Mr. Diangelo privately in which he requested her utmost discretion, and it also had your signature.” 

“What?! No- No- I never signed anything like that!”

“We sent the letter to your legal team, but we can almost confirm that Mr. Diangelo had forged your signature in that letter as your letter was on the file and there was no evidence of an original physical copy. Regardless, it is not a binding contract as it never went through any of your lawyers.”

“Unfortunately, Y/N doesn’t know that,” Jason continued. “She thought she did have to pay everything back, and we are trying to gather more information as we speak, but I’m guessing there are no merit to the numbers he pulled.” 

“That’s fucking messed up!” Chris growled, one his hand resting on his hip and the other rubbing his chin anxiously. 

“We cannot disclose the amount Ms. L/N paid Mr. Diangelo, but are working to finish up the investigation so the money can be returned to her.” 

“So she wasn’t working with Daniel and John?” Chris confirmed, not knowing whether he preferred knowing the truth or not. 

“We cannot draw any conclusions at this time,” Diana stated. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, the guilt starting to bubble in his stomach. “ Okay…” Chris  shook hands with Diana before she parted ways. He then turned to Jason, “Was she involved at all?” 

“Chris,” Jason said in a warning tone. 

“Please- I- I just gotta know.” 

“I just know from the financial side of things, and there was nothing to indicate that she was involved, Chris. She could’ve had the money transferred to another account or something, but so far nothing’s come up except for her payments to John.”

“Ho-How much did she pay?” 

Jason sighed, shaking his head. “Chris, I can’t tell you that.”

“Please- Please just give me an approximate- I just need to know-”

“She paid 3⁄4 of it, including the damage fee. She said she wanted to get rid of the debt as soon as possible so you didn’t have to worry about it.” 

“How much?”

“Chris-”

“How much?!” Chris all but yelled, standing up from his chair and knocking it over in the process. His chest was heaving, and his fist shaking as his eyes glossed with tears. 

“The number he gave her was close to $40 000 that she had to pay in the span of five years, and in the event that she couldn’t pay the monthly installments, she would have to pay an interest of 10%- not to mention the damage fee that he included of $10 000.” 

It was at that moment, Chris knew she was never involved. He felt like a huge fog has lifted from his brain, as if he finally cleared his brain after a bad hangover. The past few months felt like a nightmare, but it was then that he realized, this was his reality. His manager and personal assistant tricked him, manipulated him, stole from him, and he believed them when they said that his girlfriend was a part of it all. Even if she was, the way he treated her that night. Chris felt like a monster, a stranger living in his own skin. Looking back, he can’t even recognize himself, the words he said, the things he called her. They were unforgivable.  “Jesus Christ, Jason. I-I-I  fucked up. She wasn’t even at fault, and I blamed her.”

“We don’t know that, Chris. For all we know she could still have some part in this.”

Chris ignored him, shaking his head. He knew, and deep down he’s always known that she was never a part of this all. “Is she still here? Can I see her?” He looked around, desperate to see a glimpse of the woman he thought he would be his fiancee by now. 

“She left already, said she needed to get to work.” 

Scott peered at his brother from the corner of his eyes, looking more worried as Chris’s breathing got uneven. “Hey, hey, hey. C’mon-” He sat him down again, gently easing him into another chair. “C’mon, Chris. You gotta breathe.” 

“She didn’t do anything wrong,” Chris cried repeatedly, face turning red at his inability to breathe. “She didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“I’ll get him some water,” Jason said, giving his friend some space. 

“She wasn’t- She wasn’t- She didn’t do anything wrong, Scotty.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. We don’t know that.”

“I said so many awful things to her.” Chris cried, his hand covering his mouth as bile crawled up his throat. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.” 

Scott saw how pale Chris had gotten, turning around to grab the small garbage can and put it below the leaning man just as Chris coughed up bile. 

“The- The baby!” Chris exclaimed, inadvertently knocking the paper cup from Jason’s hand as his hand grabbed his friend’s sleeve. “Was she- How’s the baby? Did you see her bump? Does she look healthy?” 

Jason didn’t know how to answer that question. Before this whole ordeal, he has only seen Y/N through pictures from the press, and never met her in person. Either way, there was no way she was pregnant when he met her. “She- She didn’t look that pregnant?” Jason said uneasily, not knowing how to break the news. 

“Wh-What?” Chris said to himself, shaking his head. “No… Please, God no… No, no, no... ” He shrunk back on the couch, whimpering how stupid he was, and rubbing his chest as if it could appease the weight on his heart as he realized his mistake.

<-- (Chapter 2)           (Chapter 4) -->

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[maknaesdancersrappers]

Devoted 2.

part 7

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.) character death, dark themes

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of self-harm & suicide

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: part 6

wc: 10.6k

You feel nervous. You don't know why, but you’re nervous for today. Jaehyun was in the shower while you applied your daily makeup on, smearing your favorite cream blush on your face and dabbing your third and fourth fingers furiously over your cheeks to blend it.

He’s taking you to his therapist for the first time. You don’t know how it’s going to play out; if you were just going to watch and listen to or actually be apart of it. Either way, it’s putting you over the edge.

The shower stops by the time you’re choosing a lipstick to wear, fingers gliding through your growing lipstick collection. Jaehyun emerges from the shower, stopping by the sink where you stood as you did your makeup. He was drying his hair and you can’t help but watch; how the droplets of water cascaded down his body, passing through the fading marks you left last night, and dampening the towel around his waist.

“Perv.” His remark snaps you out of your reverie, bringing your eyes back to his little smirk. “We can’t be late, [Y/N].”

“I’m just admiring my work.” You coo, shrugging your shoulders to feign nonchalance as you wipe the excess colored product off your fingers with a makeup wipe. “Besides, I just need lipstick and shoes, and I’ll be ready to go. You’re the one that’s still undressed.”

“Alright;” He rolls his eyes, “By the way, I have something for you in the closet. You could wear it today.”

Your brows furrow ever so slightly, “Something for me? What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing. I just felt like getting you something.” He walks over to kiss your hair, “Come to the closet after you put on…”

Jaehyun scans through the rows of lipsticks in the drawer and plucks one of your personal favorites, your Chanel Rouge Allure Velvet in the shade no. 38 La Fascinante. “This. My little gift would go with that.”

It was a little more bold than you were planning to wear, but you still take the lipstick from him and press down to release the cap, “Okay, if you say so.”

He kisses you one last time before stepping away to leave the bathroom, stopping when you loudly scoffed.

“Oh, and I’m the perv?” You gesture to his crotch; the tip of his half-hard cock peeking through the slit of the towel.

“Ignore it. I just saw how your ass looks in your skirt, that’s all.”

You laugh, “But it’s so cute like that! Peeking through like - oh, hey, where’d the little guy go?”

Jaehyun frowns at you, adjusting the towel around his waist, “No man likes it when their cock gets called cute, [Y/N]. I certainly don’t.”

“But it is.” You pout, bursting out into laughter when he merely scowls at you before finally taking his leave.

Looking back at your reflection, you lean forward and swipe the lipstick across your lips. You liked these kinds of blue red shades because it makes your teeth look a little whiter. After setting your makeup, you walked out of the bathroom to follow Jaehyun into the closet in the other room.

He was zipping his pants up when you entered, the top buttons of his dress shirt still open to give you a nice view of his chest. You approached him as he slips his belt through the loops of his tailored-to-fit pants and buttoned up his shirt for him.

“Have you ever thought about using a belt on me?” You meekly asked, batting your lashes at him.

“No.” He immediately answers, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You finished buttoning his shirt up to his collar, pressing your palms over the crisp, white material to get the wrinkles out. “But you’ll be hurting me for pleasure.” 

“Is this your way of complaining about how vanilla our sex life is? We literally filmed a sex tape yesterday.”

You throw your head back as you snickered, “No, I’m merely suggesting. If you don’t personally like it, then don’t do it.”

He crams his hands into his pockets, watching you tug open the drawer where he stores his neatly rolled ties and peruse through the selection. You pick out a nice blood red tie with gold stitching and returned in front of him to throw it over his neck. There was something about you picking out his necktie and tying it for him that was so intimate; perhaps it was how you took great care as you made sure the knot was precise or how he quietly observed you with loving patience - despite him saying moments ago that you can’t be late for the appointment.

Once you are satisfied with your handiwork, stepping back a little to admire the knotted tie around his neck; he lifts your chin up with a finger and kisses you softly, careful not to smudge your lipstick, “Thank you.”

You stifle a giggle, rubbing your thumb on his lower lip that got stained by your lipstick.

Jaehyun moves away from you, bending down to grab a white box from the small shoe rack where you kept your shoes for special occasions. He hands it to you with a sheepish smile, watching your eyes widen when you read the label.

“Manolo Blahnik?” You stuttered out in surprise, “You got me Manolo Blahnik’s?”

He doesn’t say anything, motioning you to sit on the velvet ottoman by the shoe rack.

You sat down and opened the classic ivory box, putting the lid aside as you peel back the paper inside. Taking one of the classic dust bags, you took the shoe out of it and gasped. It was black suede pump with red mesh details - now you understood why Jaehyun picked out the color of the lipstick. It was about four inches tall, an inch higher than what you’re used to wearing when you’re at work.

“It’s beautiful, Jaehyun.” You sigh, running your thumb over the material. He kneels in front of you, taking the shoe from your hands and slipping it onto your foot, doing the same with the other one after he unwraps it.

He stands, helping you up as well. “How does it fit?”

“Perfectly.” You shifted your weight over each foot a couple of times before looking up at him, “Thank you, but why?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?” He kisses your forehead, “I saw it and thought it would look nice on you.”

He pulls you to face the mirror and stands behind you with his hands perched on your shoulders. Looking at his reflection was easier now, although your instinct was to look away at first. “You look powerful.”

You look at yourself, nitpicking the basic style of your black and white ensemble: your white Annie button up from Blanc & Eclare that Sooyeon gifted to you tucked into your black pencil skirt with leather detailing around your waist to help cinch up the area. With one corner of your lip quirking up, you joke, “As your future wife?”

Truth be told, you still liked to browse through any new reports about you and Jaehyun; even if they came from almost unknown journalists online. It was purely out of boredom; but you stumbled upon a reddit thread - of all things - discussing your relationship. They called you names you’ve already learned to ignore, but they also questioned if you were even fit to be Jaehyun’s wife - even if you weren’t a gold digger, how could you help in managing the Jung’s business? You were a mere freelance designer from a middle-class family.

“As the future chief executive officer of your own company, love.” He chuckles in your ear, “You’ll be strutting down the halls of your own office building with these heels clicking against the floor; overseeing every project, and most of all, empowering women like you to show you can - and will - in fact, compete with men in the industry.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.” You nervously chuckle, twiddling your thumbs against the hem of your sleeves.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He whispers, embracing your figure in his arms. With one last kiss on your neck, he ushers you out of the room, “Come on, let’s get going.”

Jaehyun drove to his office building first, explaining that Dr. Jeon’s office is a couple of blocks away and he liked to walk through the park to and from it. They park his car and rode the elevator to the ground floor where they started their little trek out of the building and across the city park. His hand is wrapped tightly yours, playfully swinging it along with each step you took.

“Excuse me.” You giggle at him, “How old are you?”

He merely laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheek before he lets go of your hand to pull you closer and keep his arm around your shoulders. “We don’t go out on daytime dates anymore. Let me savor the moment.”

You loop your arm around his waist and grinned up at him, “Are you going to spin me around, too?”

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to do so, making you laugh and bringing a brighter blush to your cheeks than what you had applied over your foundation. You playfully swatted him and he responds by grabbing your hand as he chuckles at you, lacing his fingers with yours once more.

It felt like you two were back in college, walking through the quad while he brought you to your class. It’s late in the morning, but the harsh rays of the noon sun has yet to scorch the pavement. It’s nice and cool, the winds rolling the clouds through the sky. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment you knew you loved Jaehyun, but moments like those - like these - fortified your feelings for him.

Will it change in the next hour?

They arrive at a low-rise condominium; greeted by the doorman with familiarity as they pass through the revolving doors. Jaehyun brings her to the receptionist and she smiles fondly, fine smile lines and wrinkles gracing her face as she nods at him. She grins at you, too, eyes turning into little crescents as she bids both of you a good day after Jaehyun signs a logbook. He ushers you to the elevators and you start to notice he’s not smiling anymore; he looked nervous, probably more anxious than you. You could feel the slightest tremble in his fingers as he tried to hold your hand with a firm grasp.

At the fourth floor, you both alighted the lift and are warmly welcomed by another receptionist.

“Good morning, Mr. Jung.” She beamed at them, standing up to bow. “Dr. Jeon is still wrapping up with a patient, but you may step inside your room. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Warm chamomile tea,” He clears his throat. He places a hand on the small of your back and you look up at him as he asks, “Would you like anything, babe?”

“Just water. Thank you.” You tell the receptionist and you see her eyes light up as your gazes meet.

“Oh!” She lightly exclaims, putting a hand on her chest, “You must be his wife!”

You giggle, “Not yet. Almost, though.”

Jaehyun spares the two of you a little smile before his lips press back down to a straight line, “Do you wanna go inside or do you wanna look around?”

You tell him you’d rather wait inside and get comfortable already; mostly for him since you could see him clenching his fist in his pocket. 

Dr. Jeon’s therapy room looked like an average living room; there’s a beige velvet chaise lounge and an armchair in a darker tawny color across it, a low glass coffee table with an hourglass separated them while a tall, sleek side table was situated beside the armchair. One wall was stacked with books of different variety and genre - psychology books, fiction, non-fiction, and even a few activity books, there were also minimal decor like little vases and succulents. The wall opposite to it had framed quotes like, “breathe in. breathe out.” and “it’s alright.” with abstract paintings in soft hues. A file cabinet was tucked in the corner and right on top was a small altar: a miniature statue of the cross, a used candle, and a pocket bible.

You sit at the chaise lounge and peek at Jaehyun, letting out a sigh when you see his face, “Jaehyun, you being nervous is making me nervous.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “I just know it won’t be the same when the hour is over.”

It breaks your heart more than it scares you that he thinks it’ll be that way. You squeeze his knee to stop it from bouncing.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens. A slender man walks in, wearing khakis and a plaid shirt, and smiles brightly at both of you. “Ah, so this is the infamous [Y/N]! A pleasure to finally meet you; Jaehyun talks about you all the time.”

You stood up to shake his hand and peer at Jaehyun briefly, “Hopefully all good things?”

“He’s never said anything less of good. I almost thought you weren’t real with how he talks about you.” He lets out a hearty chortle as he sits down on the armchair and taps his finger on the clipboard he brought in. “So, shall we begin?”

You look at Jaehyun and he nods at him, easing back on his seat.

He leans forward to flip the hourglass, “How have you two been? Getting any wedding planning done?”

“We did, yesterday, in fact.” Jaehyun answers, “Not much, but we were able to pick a theme and palette, a few places for the ceremony and reception.”

Dr. Jeon nods his head at him. He turns to you, “You must be excited, [Y/N]. I know Jaehyun is.”

You feel your cheeks warm up, turning to Jaehyun with a shy smile, “I am. Very much.”

“Of all the things Jaehyun has told me, Ms. [Y/N], the one that stuck the most was when he told you he - in his words - is not okay.” The doctor’s eyes moved from the two of you in a blink. “Do you remember how you initially reacted to those words?”

You didn’t think he’d ask straight away; your mouth opens, but you shut it immediately. You want to be clear and precise with your words. “I didn’t understand at first, until he explained a little more about how he’s been dealing with a mental disorder.”

“Have you talked about it in detail?”

“No.” Jaehyun speaks up, shifting his seat. “I wouldn’t know how to start.”

“That’s okay, Jaehyun.” Dr. Jeon assures him before returning his attention to you, “I’ll get into it in awhile, but first, I’d like to know something, Ms. [Y/N]. The break from your relationship a few years back was my suggestion. It was meant to challenge both your loyalties to one another, to see if the relationship is more emotional than physical. Couples usually take breaks after a big fight, but from what Jaehyun tells me, you don’t get into much arguments. Jaehyun, at the time, was dealing with a tremendous amount of stress from graduating and pressure from his family as he is taking over a multi-billion business, and his concern was that it’ll affect you; hence the break. However, as we all know, it didn’t work out the way any of us hoped.”

Memories of that night still gave you shivers when you remembered them. Your lip is pulled in between your teeth without your knowledge as you nod your head to tell him to continue.

“It might be difficult for you, Ms. [Y/N], but I’d like to ask what you were thinking of from when Jaehyun revealed his actions, to his reaction when you asked for an extension for the break, until the night ended.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. As your mind recalls the events of that one night, you refused to look at Jaehyun even though you knew he was staring at you; gaze piercing as you try to collect your thoughts.

“I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe it, but he admitted it so easily. When I realized the weight of his actions in total was, my body just went into fight or flight mode - and I wanted to run away.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Because he stopped you or you had second thoughts?”

You don’t answer immediately, staring at the falling sand encased in glass. “Both. He wouldn’t let me go, but when he did… I couldn’t just leave him.”

“Why not?”

“H-he was hurting himself. I was scared he’d do something worse if I had left.”

Dr. Jeon nods, “Well, you’re right. Jaehyun, if Ms. [Y/N] had left that night, what would you have done?”

Without missing a beat, he responds in a monotonous tone, “I would have picked up a shard from that broken mirror and slit my wrists.”

You gasped, snapping your head towards him as your hands fly over to cover your gaping mouth. He doesn’t look at you, just continuing to stare off at the corner of the room where the little altar was. You could feel your eyes burning as tears threatened to spring from them; you can’t imagine what you would have done if Jaehyun had gone through with that idea.

“Ms. [Y/N],” Dr. Jeon calls your attention back to him, “So you stayed to stop him, and you even took care of his injuries. You could have still left him afterwards; filed a restraining order and move on. Why didn’t you?”

You hate to admit it, but you’ve thought about that whenever that memory haunts you during nightmares. “Jaehyun… Jaehyun likes to call himself a monster; I’ve only seen that monster once and it was that night. But even then, I still managed to see the same person I fell in love with. He refused to hurt me; pushed me away to move his anger elsewhere and made sure I wasn’t in the way. I don’t think… no, I know he won’t ever hurt me.”

“And that was enough to convince you to stay?”

“Enough to convince me to stay forever.”

Jaehyun finally looks at you, eyes softened and misty; he had the same look when you told him you’d be his girlfriend, the same look when you’d be his future wife. As cheesy as it is, it’s the look that tells you how much he loves you.

“But,” Your small interjection causes his expression to falter for a brief second, “I’d still like to know what’s wrong. I want to help, too.”

Dr. Jeon watches Jaehyun, waiting for the slightest movement to signal him before he clears his throat, “Jaehyun is diagnosed with something called Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD for short. It’s a continuous pattern of varying moods, behaviors, and self-image. People with BPD can go through very intense episodes of emotions, such as anger, anxiety, and depression that can last from hours to days.”

He pauses to let you process the information, seeing your brows furrow ever so slightly.

“Symptoms of BPD,” He continues, “are fear of abandonment; even separating for, let’s say, to go to class or work, can trigger this. People with BPD will do anything to prevent this from happening; they’ll be clingy, they will beg, and even track their loved one’s movements.”

You don’t say anything, even though you feel like you should. But still, you don’t comment on it and nod at him.

“People with BPD tend to have unstable relationships; they either seem perfect or horrible - never a middle ground. They could view lovers, and even friends and family with immense love to complete hatred in a snap. Another aspect that is unstable for those diagnosed with BPD is their self-image. They could see themselves as good people, but then hate themselves to the extent of believing they’re evil. They probably don’t have an idea of what they want in life so they can frequently change jobs, lovers, even values and sexual identity.”

This makes you peep at Jaehyun, who catches your eyes and shakes his head, “I’m very much straight, [Y/N].”

“I won’t judge you if you weren’t.” You shrugged, returning your attention to Dr. Jeon.

He holds back his amusement to carry on with the session, “BPD may cause them to engage in harmful, sensation-seeking behaviours, especially when upset. Impulsive purchases, reckless driving, unsafe sex, substance abuse - these help them feel better in the moment although harmful in the long-run.”

Suddenly, the shoes on your feet didn’t feel right - and probably the majority of your closet. You can’t distinguish if he had bought them out of the goodness of his heart or the sickness of his mind. Every time he gave you  a gift that wasn’t a holiday, he would always tell you that he felt like it or he saw the item and thought you would like it. 

“One of the most common symptoms is suicidal behavior; so they think about it, they make threats and gestures about doing it, or actually going through with it. It’s also common for them to self-harm.” Dr. Jeon sees you slightly recoil and quickly changes topic, “As I’ve mentioned, they are unstable - especially with their emotions. These mood swings are intense and extreme, but pass quickly, lasting just a few minutes or hours. They also get chronic feelings of emptiness; they talk about feel like they’re nothing or nobody so they fill this void with things like food, sex, and drugs - yet nothing satisfies them.”

You don’t feel good - not because of what you’re learning, but because you feel useless. You didn’t know the man you loved was dealing with all these and regardless of whether or not he still is, you would have preferred to know so you can be aware and help him when he needs it. He’s done nothing but care for you when you needed him, and you feel like you’ve done nothing for him.

“People with BPD may have short tempers; they have trouble controlling their anger and it can completely consume them. But it’s usually directed at themselves more than on other people.” Dr. Jeon pauses, “Last of the common symptoms would be that those diagnosed with BPD often struggle with paranoia and are suspicious about other people’s motives. They can become dissociated; this means they lose touch with reality, so they would space out or feel like they’re outside of their own body.”

“I always thought it was anxiety and depression.” You confessed, “I didn’t think it was this… grave.”

“BPD usually have co-occurring disorders, like the ones you’ve mentioned.” Dr. Jeon looks down at his clipboard, “Jaehyun was initially diagnosed with both before BPD.”

He stops, urging Jaehyun to explain himself. 

“It started in high school,” You move your body so it faced him, “My family had started implanting into my brain that I needed to be the best, that I had to be the best. I was an heir to the family business; one of the most profitable ones, at the time, they didn’t want the casino to fall into someone out of the family so they depended on me. I was 15, in the middle of hitting puberty. I was allowed to play, party, and all that; but I had to care for my image, my grades, and relations. I studied in a private all boy’s school; the majority of the students were chaebols or sons of politicians. I was forced to make friends with boys from families that could benefit the conglomerate.”

“Did you get along with them, at least?” You meekly asked, trying to lighten the mood, but Jaehyun responds in the same dreary tone.

“I don’t talk about them, do I?”

He had a point and now that he mentioned it, you realize he’s never talked about his high school life at all with you.

“They’re bad people. I’m pretty sure some of them are in jail. They were greedy and prideful, they did nothing but be bad influences - I learned to drink and do drugs because of them. I was just obeying my family in befriending them, but when shit hit the fan, I was scolded for doing so.” Jaehyun scowls, “It got so bad that I had to take medication and I hated them. I was always drowsy, I couldn’t concentrate, I confused, and I couldn’t sleep. It felt like a nightmare and I always found myself debating to end it all by slitting my wrists or jumping off the roof.”

You reach out to grab his hand for the selfish reason to find an emotional anchor at the thought of him committing suicide rather than comforting him, so you bring his palm to your knee and he gives you a light squeeze.

“And the BPD? How did that start?”

He looks at you and then at Dr. Jeon, making you follow.

“There still isn’t a clear cause behind BPD, but research suggests it is caused by a combination of inherited or internal biological factors and external environmental factors, like a traumatic event in their childhood.”

“Inherited…?” You repeat.

Dr. Jeon avoids your gaze by looking down at his clipboard, so you return your attention to Jaehyun.

“My father also has BPD.” He slowly admits, as if he was reluctant about it. “He and mom always fought before… have you ever wondered why my mom stayed as a housewife after I was old enough to be alone at home?”

“Y-your father forced her?” You found this hard to believe. They were always so loving when you saw them; they were… perfect for each other. “To be a housewife… like what you’re doing…”

“I know.” He quickly jumps in, shutting his eyes in frustration, “I always told myself I won’t be like my dad as a husband, but the idea slips from my mouth every time and it keeps upsetting you.”

“Which makes you upset.” You point out, dropping your shoulders in defeat. This whole time… the entire relationship, you’ve already witnessed all the symptoms of BPD and you always dismissed them as him being irrational. You wish you knew from the start; you wouldn’t have picked fights with him and keep doing things that were triggering him. “Wait, then the chances of our kids inheriting is-”

“I would say 50/50.” Dr. Jeon jumps in, trying to put your worries at ease by sounding confident in his estimation.

“Is this treatable?”

“Yes, but not with medicine. For Jaehyun, this is what we call dialectical behavior therapy; a type of cognitive behavioral therapy that tries to identify and change negative thinking and pushes for positive behavioral changes. It teaches patients skills to cope with, and change unhealthy behavior. If your children do get diagnosed with it, Jaehyun had already scheduled for early treatment.” Dr. Jeon explains with a serious expression before it softens to a small, proud smile, “Actually, Jaehyun has improved enough that he didn’t have to go to DBT anymore. He only comes in for check ups every other month when he has time until recently.”

“Oh… then that’s good, right? You only came back because I told you to.”

“From his recent sessions, I personally don’t think he would have to go through comprehensive DBT anymore. I will still recommend doing some mindfulness activities; diary writing, meditating, and the likes. You could join him in some - you are the reason why he’s gotten better.”

This brings a blush to your cheeks, “What?”

“Even though you are the trigger that pushed the limits of his disorder, you’re also the anchor that kept him grounded, reminded him to become better, and I’m happy to tell you that he is.”

Jaehyun shifts his hand so he could laced his fingers between yours, gripping it with ample strength.

“Bringing you into one of his therapy sessions is a great start for him to completely open up to you. In any relationship, communication is key. You can start doing mindfulness activities together. Taking about 10 minutes each day to talk, create a ‘relationship vision’ by listing down statements that you would like to see individually in the relationship going forward now that you’re aware of his disorder. Develop and practice caring behaviors - although Jaehyun has mentioned you’re both doing this already - so surprising each other with gifts, holding hands,” Dr. Jeon gestures to their interlocked fingers, “even simply telling each other you love each other is enough. I suggest that everyday or every other day, you would affirm your appreciation for each other. Pick out a moment in that day or week that moved you and tell each other, tell them how important that is to you, and describe how that action made you feel, and in return, you summarize what they had told you so it would be clear to both of you about what you had shared.”

To punctuate his statement, the hourglass had finished and as if on cue, his wristwatch beeps to signal a new hour. He stands up, “Well, I have a very booked day today. The room won’t be used until the next hour, you may stay here and start on some mindfulness activities.”

Jaehyun stands up and you follow, “Thank you, Dr. Jeon.”

They shake hands and you stick yours out, “Thank you.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. [Y/N]. I’m finally able to put a face to Jaehyun’s stories. You’re free to join us again if you’d like.”

“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He leaves the room shortly after he confirms another session between him and Jaehyun on Wednesday. It was quiet after, neither of you talking and just stood with your hands still in each other’s. Jaehyun takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he turns to you.

“Do you still want to be with me?”

It breaks your heart that he’s so sure you’ll be seeing him as the monster he makes himself to be. Now that you knew, were you scared? Not in the sense he thinks. You weren’t scared of him, but you were scared to lose him in the worst way possible. “Is this your way of trying to drive me away from you? Do you want me to hate you?”

He frowns, “No… that’s not my intention. I just want to give you an option.”

You take his hand into both your hands and hold it to your chest, “Will you believe me if I told you I love you even more? Not because of your situation, but because you finally told me? Jae, I wish you had told me sooner.”

“It’s not exactly a great pick up line.” He quips, one corner of his lips quirking upwards. “I doubt it would leave a great first impression… and  it’s not exactly the easiest thing to talk about either.”

“Will you talk about it more with me now?”

“Yes. If you want to, then I will.”

You tried to tiptoe in your heels to kiss him, using his shoulders as leverage, “Thank you for this, Jaehyun. It means a lot that you finally told me about this part of you. Do you have anymore skeletons in the closet you’d like to reveal?”

Jaehyun chuckles, “No.”

“Okay then,” You pulled him down for a long hug until he suggests it’s time to get back to work.

You leave the room, bidding the receptionist goodbye and start making your way to the elevator, but Jaehyun’s hand slips out of yours. Looking back in confusion, you find him watching the news on the television screen behind the receptionist’s desk. It was about a drug raid at a local club; how there were millions worth of illegal drugs stored in the basement and reports of bartenders spiking unsuspecting businessmen to overcharge their bill.

“Jaehyun?”

“That was the club we were at the other night.” He explains, eyes narrowing slightly, “I think Sicheng and I should really take a drug test just to confirm.”

“At least they were busted for it. Check your account, Jae, maybe they overcharged you.”

“No, I didn’t pay for anything that night.” His lips press into a hard line, “Yuta did.”

“Hey, we’re on business hours, [Y/N].” Kyungwon snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Stop staring off into space - and if you are, then don’t stare at that couch! It’s ugly.”

You blink yourself out of your reverie, recoiling at the said ugly couch your co-worker said. Your head was still stuck at the therapy session earlier in the morning. Even though you made it seem like you understood every word Dr. Jeon had said, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. It was too much for one sitting; you don’t know why you didn’t tell them. But Jaehyun promised to talk more about it, and you were banking on that.

“I would ask why you’re so dazed, but I don’t need to know details of your sex life.” Kyungwon grumbles, eyes darting around the living room decor displayed.

“I’m not thinking about that!” You gasped, defending yourself in a shrill voice. “I-I have another home to design, a wedding to plan, and a company to start - one that you’ll be a part of.”

She sighs, crossing her arms, “There’s no rush on any of those, [Y/N]. You don’t have to move to a new house yet, there’s still months before the wedding, and the girls and I still have plenty of projects to finish back at the company. We’re understaffed, but boss isn’t re-hiring or even hiring new people.”

“Hold on,” You grab her elbow before she wanders off to the lamps, “You told Jaehyun to have Junho and the others fired!”

Kyungwon cocks her head to the side, “No. I told him about how they behaved towards women in the office, he suggested about having them fired, and I said that would be great. I didn’t tell him to actually do it.”

“Okay, but you could have told me about it.”

“[Y/N], sweetie, if a rich, powerful man who had power to control who stays in a company he doesn’t even have legal jurisdiction over told me to keep it a secret from you, I would make sure you would never hear a peep about it.” She nervously laughs for a moment until it dies down and she quietly asks, “Did he finally tell you?”

You check the price tag of a floor lamp, “After I asked.”

She nods slowly, “Are you mad at me?”

Pensively, you look at her and shake your head, “I can’t be mad at either of you if there are plenty of people benefiting from it. I just wish you had told me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t hold any secrets from you anymore.” Kyungwon smacks her lips together and makes a loud pop, “So I have another confession to make. I promised my cousin we’d hire him as a secretary. Trust me, he’s an efficient worker and a total sweetheart.”

“Alright. If you trust him, then I’ll trust you.” 

You two continued to browse, tagging things you assumed Yuta would like for his apartment. The only thing he specified he wanted was a sunken living room, a platform bed, and touches of yellow. He was running late, not really giving both of you a reason why - and it’s not like you questioned him either. He was still a businessman after all.

Kyungwon was asking your opinion between two shelf options when you spot Yuta over her shoulder, looking around.

“Yuta!” You raise your hand to catch his attention and he immediately looks over with a grateful smile.

“I’m sorry. I had a conference call with my family in Japan regarding business here. It took longer than expected.” He explained once he reached both of you. “Did you two wait too long?”

“Not at all!” Kyungwon chirps and you agree with her, “We’re interior designers; we could spend days in places like IKEA. We’ve been tagging a couple of things for you to check out; to see if it fits your tastes or not.”

You and Kyungwon walked him through the route you took earlier, showing him the pieces you had tagged and he nitpicked what he liked or disliked about them. He seems to have his own vision of how his apartment should look like.

“Would it be possible to install like a built-in kotatsu in the sunken living room?” He ponders out loud before turning to Kyungwon, “It could slide out from the level where the steps begin and I could just throw a futon over it.”

“Oh, I think I can make that work. I’ll work on some designs later and send it to you afterwards.” She types it onto her phone, “Is there anything more specific you’d like? The tatami mats you requested have been shipped but will be at the company warehouse until the living room has been leveled.”

The three of you have wandered over to the bedroom area and Yuta approaches a platform bed, “The platform bed is king-sized, yes?”

“Custom-made for you.” You confirmed, “It’ll be ready in two weeks. They’re delivering the swatches tomorrow and if you’re not busy, you can drop by the office to select which you prefer.”

“Whatever screams bachelor.” He jokes, eliciting a chuckle from both you and Kyungwon.

“Kyungwon has more experience with bachelor pads.” You volleyed the attention to her and she lightheartedly shrugs her shoulders.

“I usually end up with darker colors, maybe shades of gray, perhaps? Oh! A nice gray wash veneer on the headboard and darker shade for the velvet upholstery. It’ll be nice and neutral with the yellow accents.”

“Okay then, I trust you.”

Kyungwon shyly bows her head with a small mutter of gratitude, bringing a kilowatt smile on Yuta’s face. She gestures to move over to the wardrobe and storage area to choose furniture that weren’t custom-made for him. As she leads the way, talking animatedly about the endless possibilities his closet space could look like while Yuta patiently listens with an unwavering smile on his lips and tucked hands in his pockets, you paced behind them with curiosity.

You don’t want to play matchmaker, especially since he’s your and Kyungwon’s client, but a part of you can see them being together. They’re both cheeky and flirty at the right times; when you introduced them to each other when you suggested he should hire an extra designer, they hit right off the bat during the icebreaker. They could talk endlessly about anything and be equally enthusiastic about it.

“Please, let me treat both of you for dinner - if not as a your employer, than as a friend. You two are incredibly patient with me.” Yuta offers once you’ve placed orders for the items he approved of and requested them to be delivered to the company warehouse for safe-keeping.

Kyungwon seemed eager, convincing you with her infamous puppy dog pout, and you finally relented. Yuta gives her the address of the restaurant and you ride with her in her Kia Picanto while Yuta drives off first in his Audi A4.

The minute Kyungwon starts driving, you glance at her, “So… Yuta.”

“Hm?”

“Are you interested in him?”

She blushes, “He’s so out of my league, [Y/N]. What would a millionaire want with a simple designer like me? He could literally have a harem of women with a single flash of his smile. Why settle for less when he could have more?”

You stare at her for a moment before following her attention on the road, “That’s how I feel about Jaehyun.”

Kyungwon scoffs, “You’ve been together for years and in a few months, you’re getting married! What are you talking about? I’ve never seen a man more in love than Jaehyun is with you.”

Your mind goes back to the therapy session and you frown at yourself; it wasn’t only Jaehyun who had fears of losing each other.

“But all that could change, you know. Maybe one day someone better will come into his life or maybe the love would just die. When we first started dating, you don’t even know how many girls tried to steal him away from me. Imagine this outgoing handsome boy, charming and incredibly sweet; and then this awkward, introverted art student. I didn’t think we’d last this long.”

“I don’t even think I’m ready to be in a relationship; I have the shittiest luck with men.”

“Then sleep with him!” You exclaim with laughter, “Kyungwon, when was the last time you slept with someone?”

She recoils in her seat with disappoint, “Too long… wait a minute, are you really telling me to sleep with a client? I know you’re out of the company, but I’m not, [Y/N].”

“No one will know. I’m not going to rat you out and I doubt Yuta would boast about it either; we’re the only contact he has with the company. You’re designing his bachelor pad, Kyung, you might as well help break it in for him.”

“[Y/N]!” She scolds, but laughter cuts it short and she shakes her head in disbelief. “If he’s interested, then I’ll entertain it, okay?”

You arrive at a hotel where a valet informed you that Yuta had requested for Kyungwon’s car to be taken care of. Once that was settled, the two of you walk up to a Japanese fusion restaurant by the hotel lobby where Yuta was standing outside waiting for you.

“Is this where you’ve been staying?” You ask, looking up at the hotel as Yuta guides you inside the restaurant.

“It is. When my father was here last week, he liked it so much that he bought it.”

You and Kyungwon stopped in your tracks, staring at him as he walks over to an empty table and then sharing a surprised expression with one another.

“If I liked the hotel service so much, I’d give at least 50 dollar tip in my room during check-out.” Kyungwon whispers to you and you hold back laughter, urging her to follow after him.

Yuta helps Kyungwon to her seat while a waiter seats you, gently pushing the chair into the table as you sat down. As you settled in, the waiter leaves a menu each in front of you before bowing and leaving.

You weren’t too hungry so you hoped it was okay if you asked for something light.

“There’s a high tea menu, would you ladies mind that?” Yuta looks at the two of you, “Their sencha is quite nice.”

“Sounds good.” You close the menu and Kyungwon agrees with a nod of her head.

“You’re still free to choose something else.”

After giving it a thought, neither of you ordered anything else and settled on his suggestion. He makes the order and when the waiter leaves, he talks business for a bit.

“Is there a 3D render for the apartment, yet? I honestly have a hard time visualizing it.”

“I can render one for you, I’ll just wait for Kyungwon’s plans for the built-in kotatsu and figure out what you would like for the bathroom.”

Yuta perks up a bit, “Oh! In Japan, we have these soaking tubs called ofuro. If it’s not too big, I’d like one in the bathroom.”

You open up your phone and type into your notes, “Alright, I’ll search up where to get one later. Is there anything else? How about the shower area?”

“I just want everything open. I’ll be living alone so I don’t mind if there’s no wall to my personal bathroom. My only problem with that would be the toilet.”

“Well, we can have an open bathroom for you but have an enclosed space for the toilet.” Kyungwon glances at you.

Your lips are pursed for a moment. “There’s this shower enclosure you might like. I was planning to get it for me and Jaehyun when we move. It’s nice and spacious, too.” You blush, thinking you shared too much because Yuta chuckles but urges you to continue, “And, I can use the designs I have planned for our ensuite for yours.”

“You don’t mind?”

You shake your head, “No, of course not. I think you have the same… tastes.... As Jaehyun so I think you’ll like it.”

Yuta’s grin is wide and knowing, sending a flush of color on both yours’ and Kyungwon’s cheeks. “Alright, then. Really, the only aspects I truly want are the sunken living room, built in kotatsu, and the ofuro — basically the Japanese aspects.”

“You must miss your family at home.” Kyungwon suggests, taking the table napkin and draping it across her lap.

“Oh, no, I don’t.” He laughs, shaking his head as if she had said something ridiculous. “I miss my house in Japan, yes, but I certainly don’t miss my family.”

Her eyes dart to yours, a little wide with panic in fear she had upset him for bringing it up.

“I’m sorry for assuming.” She clears her throat, keeping her gaze to the empty plate in front of her. “My apologies.”

Yuta laughs once more, “No, don’t be. It’s not something that bothers me. It was all my fault anyways.”

Two waiters come with your orders; they arrange the tea set and placed the high tray of pastries on the table. They asked Yuta if he needed anything else and Yuta shook his head and thanked them instead.

“I don’t mean to pry,” You paused to thank Kyungwon for pouring you tea, “But what do you mean it’s your fault.”

“It’s not a secret; if you look up my family name in Japanese articles, you would know everything about us.” Yuta gestures for you and Kyungwon to choose from the stack of pastries, “I was set to inherit the business, not my sister, because I’m the only son. However, I’m also known to be the black sheep of the family.”

He picks out a small cucumber sandwich and takes a bite out of it, “I didn’t have the most… respectable past. I was spoiled; I wanted to party, not study. I slept around, refused to be set up for arranged marriages. Eventually, my father grew tired of my nonsense and kicked me out. I was essentially disowned by my family about 5 years ago.”

“That’s when I discovered who my real friends were; those who I thought cared for me, only saw me for money and free shit. I’m lucky enough to be friends with a guy who convinced his father to let me wait tables at their family restaurant. They didn’t have an extra room, though, so I slept on the chairs of the restaurant after closing and rented a motel room nearby when I had enough. Employees had free meals, either ramen or tonkatsu, but it filled my stomach everyday. They treated me and all the other employees like family; they made me feel more at home than I ever was with my own family.”

Kyungwon refills his teacup when she noticed it was empty and he offered her a small smile. “But you’re working for your family again. What happened?”

Yuta’s face looked somber, “My friend’s mom had given birth. It was a baby girl and she had heart complications. Their business was barely enough to cover medical expenses. Unfortunately for them, their restaurant got caught in the middle of a gang war and almost half of the building needed to be repaired. I wasn’t mad or upset when they told me they couldn’t afford to have employees anymore; I didn’t even complain, but I couldn’t just walk away from them after all they’ve done for me.”

“So I got on my knees in front of my father and begged him to take me back; and I’m not gonna lie, it hurt my pride to do something like that. But he eventually did after my mother convinced him to. I don’t get to inherit the business — and that’s fine by me — but I worked hard and repaid my friend and his family for what they’ve done.”

He gestures around the room and you gasped, “This is theirs?”

“It’s a sister restaurant. I convinced them to branch their business out; the recipes belong to them, but I provided everything else. None of the profit goes to me, though.”

“That’s so kind of you.” Kyungwon mumbles, blushing when she realizes she had said it out loud. 

Yuta chuckles, shaking his head, “It was the least I could do for them. Paying for the repairs and the baby’s medical fees wasn’t going to be enough for me; I wanted to do something for them that was long term. Although, I felt a little sad when they said I didn’t have to pay for Mina’s medical fees anymore since they could afford it now.”

“Mina…?”

“Ah, yes.” Yuta glances at you, “My friend’s baby sister is named Mina. That would explain why I’m a little fond of the receptionist at Jaehyun’s office. Being the youngest, I’ve always wondered about and wanted a younger sibling — or at least a child of my own, but I think it’s too early for that.”

“Unless you find someone who would change your mind.” You teased him, bringing your cup to your lips. “And soon enough, you’ll be moving out of your bachelor pad.”

He seems to be contemplating on the idea, a half smile on his face as he shrugs one shoulder, “Well, at least I know who to call when I move again. But still, I’m not actively looking for a partner and even if I was, I wouldn’t jump right into it and get married. Did you think you or Jaehyun immediately thought of marrying each other when you first met in high school?”

You blinked at him in surprise, shaking your head with a little giggle, “Oh, Jaehyun and I met in college. Even then, I didn’t think we’d come this far.”

Yuta’s brows furrowed slightly, “I’m sorry, I thought you two had met in high school and dated in college.”

“No…” You slowly shook your head, “I met him in college.”

He seems genuinely confused and you’re about to ask him how he came up with that until he clicks his tongue, “Ah, I must have confused your relationship with someone else. Sorry. Most of my work partners are taken, you see.”

Kyungwon agrees, “Everyone is getting married around me and I’m starting to feel left behind.”

You reach out to put a hand on her arm and offer her a sympathetic smile, “There’s no need to rush, Kyung.”

“Yes,” Yuta nods, gesturing to himself, “There’s nothing wrong with being single and surrounded by couples. You can learn off of them, you know.”

They begin to tease you about your relationship with Jaehyun, pointing out mannerisms and cute whatnots the two of you had that you weren’t aware of. Kyungwon made a suggestion that highly implicated a healthy sex drive and you gasped, scolding her. Eventually, the topic moved onto Kyungwon’s life and an hour later, you and Kyungwon thanked Yuta for the tea and parted ways with him.

After she offered to drive you back home, you’re sat once more in the passenger’s seat of Kyungwon’s car and had been texting Jaehyun, asking what he wanted for dinner.

“I feel…” Kyungwon mumbles, “Sort of bad for Yuta.”

“Hm?” You glanced over to her and you see her shrug her shoulders halfheartedly.

“About what he told us in the restaurant. How he got disowned and all; like, you’d never imagine he went through that if you took one look at him.”

It surprised you as well when he revealed that fact about himself. He just seemed so lax and chill. “I guess it goes to show we really can’t judge a book by it’s cover.”

You’re reminded again of your morning; unsettled by everything you’ve learned about Jaehyun. It didn’t scare you per se, however it did give you inklings of guilt. You just wish you had known about what he had been dealing with so you could have helped him. 

It’s been more than a week since you and Jaehyun began to search for a house (read as: mansion) and none of them screamed ‘forever home’ at you. You think it’s because all of them are just too big with more than enough rooms and bathrooms and unnecessary facilities like home saunas or fully equipped gyms.

This was the seventh house you two were visiting and it was the smallest lot of the ten houses you’ve picked albeit still vast with a whopping 7 thousand square foot. Jaehyun had reminded you multiple times that you could have rooms renovated to whatever you wanted it to be, especially when he sees your reaction towards the property features.

You pull up to a gate with high hedges with crawling floral vines and before you could even ask about how they were getting inside, the gates open. As Jaehyun drives past, you notice a small guardhouse off to the side with a man bowing towards the car, guessing he worked as security for the property.

As this was the seventh house (again, read as: mansion), you weren’t even going to waste your time commenting about its size but you can’t help but be in awe at it as Jaehyun goes through the circular driveway. It’s exterior paint was a taupe, unlike the blinding white the previous houses were. There were a few rooms with floor to ceiling windows, something the brochure pointed out that gave reason to all the natural lighting.

There was an open garage for 5 cars on the left side of the house where Jaehyun drives straight to and parks. You both alight the vehicle, and you size up the mansion; trying to estimate the height of the entire building while Jaehyun locks the car.

“So?” He asks, coming around to your end and placed a hand on your lower back.

“Massive.” You purse your lips at him.

He sighs, “Baby, stop using synonyms of big.”

“After being 7 years with you,” You nod your head towards his crotch and wink up at him, “It’s a word I need to know a lot of synonyms of.”

“Let’s not bless a house we’re not even sure about buying yet, [Y/N].” He pinches your butt, making you gasp and elbow him in the gut. He coughs, but laughs it off; taking your hand in his, “Let’s check this place out.”

There’s a nice spacious porch with hanging exterior lamps at either corner by the short steps. The house opens up to the right of the porch where a short hallway leads into the living space to the left and a small bathroom to the right.

As you imagined the possible changes you would make to the house, Jaehyun continues to guide you along inside.

There’s a utility room at the end of the hallway; still a sizeable room for laundry and storage. Beside it was a wide, L-shaped staircase with glass panels and dark zinc steps. Further along, the living space was massive; it opened up to the second floor with a crystal chandelier in the middle of it. The entire wall was glass that opened up to the backyard with double glass sliding doors. The sunken living room had two marble levels before the actual carpeted space with two couches: an L-shaped couch and a three-seater, a low square coffee table, and buffet tables behind each couch. There was a flat screen TV mounted on the wall that separated the stairs and the living room and beneath it was a fireplace.

“I like this.” You quietly mumbled, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hm?” He peers down at you, “You’ve decided?”

“No. But I like this living space; it’s very open and there’s plenty of natural lighting.” You move your eyes to the dining area to the right of the room. It was separated by a half wall; maybe a meter high. It had a similar dining table that you had back in the apartment so it was enough to seat both your families. There was a breakfast nook by the raised kitchen area with an extended space for a small bar complete with high chairs and wine rack.

You continue to roam around, noting every detail you like and things you’d like to change.

“We should transform the other rooms into personal offices and maybe a conference room for meetings?”

Jaehyun groans, almost childishly, “I don’t want to bring work home!”

“Babe, we’re so much farther from your office now. I’d rather have employees come over than spend hours on the road. Think about when we have kids,” You sidled right up to him, smoothing out his shirt, “We can both work and still look after them — I refuse to have a nanny. I want us to raise them and be there every waking minute.”

“How come you can use the children card and I can’t?”

You roll your eyes at him, “Because you use it to bait me into having sex. I’m using it for more practical reasons.”

He lets out an indignant huff, “So sex with me isn’t practical?”

You slap the back of your hand against his stomach, reeling back for a second time, but he laughs and grabs your hands.

“Let’s go up, hm?”

There’s a second living area by the top of the stairs; two parallel couches and an indoor fire pit that it’s own special vent above it, decorated meticulously to camouflage it as a chandelier. There were five bedrooms on the second floor and already, you’re thinking of renovating two of them. Two of the rooms had sunken areas for the bed and nightstands; large windows, and balconies that faced the backyard.

“Let’s convert this room into a walk-in closet.” You gestured to the room beside the master’s and stared at the extra room beside it. You found yourself mindlessly walking towards it as Jaehyun watched in curiosity. “What’s this room for?”

“Storage, I think?” He follows after you, walking inside the room. It was significantly smaller than the rest, but it made it a lot more cozier. It was at the front of the house, so it opened up to the front balcony and the view of the front yard. Something about this room just tugged at your heart and you shake your head at him.

“I don’t want this room to be storage.”

“Then what do you want it to be?”

You turn to him, eyes suddenly misty. You felt ridiculous for being so emotional over what seems to be the smallest room in the entire mansion. “The nursery.”

Immediately, Jaehyun’s features softens at your words. He holds out his hand for you and as you take it, you glanced over one side of the empty space.

“The crib could be there a-and a changing table beside it — we could put armchairs so when I’m nursing—”

“[Y/N],” He cups your face, brushing away the tears escaping your eyes, “Why are you crying?”

You laughed, “I don’t know. I feel so silly for crying over a room, but… I can see it very clearly, in this room; where we’ll spend sleepless nights because our baby is crying, maybe this is where they’ll take their first step a-and I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Jaehyun kisses your forehead, “You don’t have to. I understand what you mean. Just say this is the house you want and maybe in a few month’s time, what you’re seeing now would be reality then.”

You can't stop yourself from smiling, trying to bite it down but ultimately failing. “I think this is our forever home, Jaehyun.”

You swear you could see Jaehyun’s eyes misting as well when you had said ‘forever home.’ He pulls you closer, muttering with the faintest smile on his lips before kissing you, “I think so, too.”

Every day since joining Dr. Jeon, you and Jaehyun have shared lengthy, lazy kisses; the kind that wasn’t rushed and just translated the words of love neither of you didn’t know how to say. He had a hand on your cheek, tracing circles with his thumb, and the other holding you steady against him.You had your arms around his waist, grasping tightly on his shirt, scared that this could possibly just be a fever dream.

He pulls away first, darting down quickly for a peck, making you giggle. “I have something for you.”

“Jaehyun, honestly, you need to stop with the random gifts.” You sighed, sounding annoyed but the elation from moments earlier kept the smile on your face.

“This is different, I promise.” He pulls out a small rectangular box from his back pocket; you had thought it was his wallet so you didn’t give it much attention, but then again, he only used his card and he had that attached to his phone case. “I was supposed to propose to you with a different ring; I had already chosen and bought one before your parents insisted I used your mother’s.”

Jaehyun flips the lid open and you see an oval cut, white diamond on a thin silver chain. He takes it out and tucks the box back in his pocket after snapping it shut. “They don’t even know I already had a ring and I didn’t have the heart to tell them I did after they offered your mom’s ring. I can’t return it and I could always have it auctioned off at the next charity event, but I thought it would be better to turn it into a necklace instead.”

You turn around after he gestures for you to do so and you moved your hair out of the way when he began to put it on you. After he locks the clasp, you look down at it and carefully touched the gem. You spun back around to face him, “It’s beautiful.”

“I didn’t know when to give it to you, though. It’s not something I wanted to give it to you just because I felt like it, you know? So, I thought I’d give it to you when we pick out a house — our forever home. Marriage is a huge step, but choosing a house together where we start our own family; raise our kids, watch them grow up, and grow old together… that’s a whole other level for us. Truth be told, it scares me.”

“Why would that scare you?”

He casts his gaze downwards, “I know I can be a good husband, but I don’t know about being a father. I’m eager to have kids, you know that, but it’s not something I have experience on. I’ve dated you for seven years and I could use that to be a better partner but—”

“Jaehyun, I don’t have experience with being a mother, too. That’s why we’ll be learning together. We’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. You’ll be an amazing father.”

“Do you really think so?”

You nod at him and grinned, pulling him into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You feel him kiss the top of your head. When you pulled away, he hums, “So now that we chose this house…”

Catching onto what he was insinuating, you vehemently shook your head, “Absolutely not.”

a/n: wEw another long ass chapter. i *think* the next update should be after kinkmas! i hope you guys understand ;A;

next: part 8

~ buy me a peach? but why?

[anyu-blue]

Busy as a bee

~

*sigh*

I had this big long thing typed up.. it's all gone now. That's twice it's happened. Let's see if third time's the charm.

It was about my trying to figure out how to talk about the shit I've been going through without just dumping it all on someone and having it be totally unjustified too...

I'm mad at my dad. I'm mad at Tevs... I'm mad at myself.

Basically...I'm frustrated that I'm seen as so much lesser than everyone else.

I know it's like 'no you're not!! You only think you are!! They love you!!' ... I've been smacked both literally and figuratively for saying 'you guys treat me different/unfairly compared to x'... But.. gods at this point I. Just. CAN'T keep believing them or telling myself that when the evidence is right in front of me. I feel like I must have done something REALLY BAD and BIG for everyone to pull away so hard... But at the same time... I... Can't figure what it is or how. I've asked too, but the closet I've gotten to an answer is 'You're too much, Meek.'

I know I sorta... Became a worse recluse than I was (kinda I'm response to that. Trying so hard NOT to be too much)... But I kept telling and telling and telling I was available and offering what I could and more... I kept trying to deal- if I need something I would provide in return, just name the price... Did I forget or fail to follow through with something? Or something? No one can think of anything to tell me that didn't have a legitimate reason if ever I did (as good as or better than they have given me) that I shared up front and sometimes in advance with them. I even went into detail about what might happen if I am asked for help on a bad day- I tend to be a bit grumpy if woken up, but will still be there to help and will apologize for any harshness as I am going about it. I do that- but... Nothing.. and every single person has offered and practically forced (in W0lfie's case) all of the stuff I've asked for onto anyone but me. Need help finding/getting a good word in for work! Sure!! *Gives me links to indeed and Job service sites I'm already on/refuses to say my application is in the mix for positions at their workplaces or downright says they don't know if I'm a good worker even though I gave them my sick day and late count and all that fun stuff to pass off or downright doesn't tell me there's a good opening they know about*

Oh such-and-such is happy where they're at? So-and-so Can't hold a job because they keep quitting? *Gives information about good jobs and puts in a good word for them and sticks their neck out to get them hired.. is surprised when the offer is rejected by the family that says they're already okay with their current work or the unreliable friend they got hired quits*... Oh woe is me, I need help and there's no one to turn to!! *Refuses to call me knowing I have the day off, have my phone on, and have said I'm free that day... Asks literally every other person even the ones that demand payment for the job or can only do a part of it.. or just ends up doing it themselves by dropping another important obligation instead of calling me*

:(

The most common excuse for that last one is. 'oh I didn't want to make you more stressed.'

Um... I offered? I was here the whole time? What...?

*sigh*

I suppose I wouldn't be thinking of that stuff or be so upset by it all except for the fact I'm told these things and then I'm shown (and told) this last week people think I'm EXTREMELY lazy...

My dad and everyone else wants me to/thinks I should work more than 3 days a week... Or should get on disability if it's 'that hard.' Obviously they've never tried and seen THAT shit show... I have looked into it. Not only have I gotten treated like something to be disgusted by friends, family, medical professionals, and jobs alike (because it's oh so despicable to be on social security while young and spry- even though I have medically frail on my damn chart I'm apparently 'young and spry'- fuck you) when I've tried to pursue it, also being on it ISN'T a cake walk.. the restrictions. The WORK you have to do (and the work you can't do!! I'm right in the middle and technically can work too much for disability, but not enough for getting by on my own). The shit you have to go through... My own therapist told me some programs I could pursue would put me further behind where I am and I could possibly never get out... And she was the one that pushed me to get foodstamps, so it's not like she thinks they're hooey...

My dad thinks me working 3 days a week and refusing to do more lest I break down all the time is just.. lazy.. unfortunate... Stupid. He wants me to take all these homeowners and car buying and loan classes... Like I'm EVER going to be able to afford a single one of those things.. or think it's a good idea to throw down $25-$150 a pop for a class, let alone spend 8 hours taking one (I'd love to and think they're amazing things, but uh...)... Like somehow it'll 'convince' me to 'work harder'.

DUDE.

What.

The.

FUCK.

Is WRONG with you?!

I get it... I seriously can't work more days a week. If I do, I completely spiral out of control from the pressure as well as the guilt from spiraling and and.. you get the idea. I just do. I know I do. And I found my balance in 3 days on.

It's pretty easy to think 4 days off are, well.. 4 days off. 4 days to play. 4 days of freedom. But... I make things... I've made two blankets already. One more I'm working on.. usually AT work because I'm so busy. Birthday gifts. Christmas gifts. Holiday gifts. Trying to do commissions too to get more money in. Also.. em... I'm usually awake during the day to.. make appointments because my health is just a mess.. helping the friends that HAVE asked for help... Running errands because I can't at night (partly due to Covid changing everything's hours)... Or if I HAPPEN to get to.. I'm sleeping because I'm on a night schedule.. at night if anyone had need of me I'd be right there!! But guess what, THEY are sleeping. If I actually have a night off (which I haven't in nearly a month now because I CAN go over to my friend who needs help's house at 5 in the morning.. after I drop W0lfie off at work or I'd be there sooner.) I'm DOING things. Wednesday itself happens to be dedicated to FIXING my sleep schedule that I screwed doing everything my sisters need or want me to do during the day... It's up to ME to screw MY sleep so THEY can get or have what they need/want... Never mind they refuse (with legitimate reasons) to do the same for me (though I have legitimate reasons I could say no as well, but ooooh I'm the 'bad guy').

*rubs face* I'm so busy my mind and body is screaming at me in pain. Sooo lazy 🙄

But yet I'm shit because I refuse to work more.

Idk what it is, okay? I. Don't. Know. Maybe it's the fact that I'm Autistic and something overloads that hasn't been address like ever and so has only gotten worse (this is my guess), or the PTSD is doing something (my therapist's guess--- which not to derail but WHO ELSE IS IN THERAPY IN MY FAMILY?! you want to guess? That's right, NO ONE... No one is even TRYING to deal with theirs, and I don't just mean the pandemic. Big sister had it as bad, if not worse than I did. Refuses. Dad and step mom knows they do. Little sister scared. Little bro disinterested. 'There's no time' or 'costs too much' despite several having free sessions available to them via their job and Heath insurance- with multiple options- and everyone but little sister making more than they ever have in their lives on top of relying on others to pay any bills they can't keep up on... GRR).. or something else that just makes me become such a wreck. I hate it more than anyone else, you know.. because I have to live with it AND everyone telling me how lazy and lucky and entitled and how 'much' I am.

...

And you want to know what sparked all of this?

Tevs worked a 12+ hour day that ended up having me woken up by the cats that hadn't been fed.

Let me explain... Tevs and I got into it badly after I was continually deprived of sleep because she was working so much and blaming me for 'making' her deal with stuff at home I didn't even know were problems. She continued to explode and explode and treat W0lfie and I TERRIBLY after work as well AND continually told our other friends and family she so desperately needed a vacation and LESS work, and just kept pulling 10, 11, 13 hour days she didn't have to... All while not eating or drinking or having bathroom breaks... and I was DONE with it. I have and had offered to do more, just need to be directed on what needs to be done that I can do while they're asleep (duh) so she had no leg to stand on there... With the rest... She promised to not work more than 10 hour shifts (agreed upon because I have a 10hr shift at work with no breaks too) AND to either let us know in advance if she was going to be late so I could feed the cats, or have someone do SOMETHING to get the cats fed so they weren't deliberately jumping on me to wake me up... You know.. communicate a little more. Do a little better so she wasn't killing herself working. She promised.

Well..

Apparently (new information to me) a promise and Tevs giving her word.. are two different things. Promises don't matter. Giving her word had weight.

What. The. Fuck.

So MY getting upset this last week that not only was she working more than 10 hours... Not only did she not tell anyone about it.. not only did the cats come to wake me up (after I had FINALLY fallen asleep a short while before due to just how BUSY I was that day, and it was Wednesday 😭)... But she also REFUSED to speak to ANYONE and tell her where she was/that she was safe- completely and deliberately ghosting everyone... Until she showed up at my dad's house 12+ hours after the start of her shift in which she didn't eat, didn't drink, and didn't use the bathroom for the entirely duration..

...

I was told to back off. That my upset was unfounded. That I was just like our horrible mother and I was just trying to control her life.

Does that sound right to you?

It does to my dad. I would wager my step mom. All of their friends. And of course Tevs.

Nevermind that W0lfie was just as freaked out and upset... That she actually has a front row seat as to what I go through now/how hard I try to be kind and careful and respectful and relaxed and NOT controlling and finally gets it... And that she's now directly effected by all of it too... And agrees this is MESSED UP as hell...

No.

I'm shit. I need to work more. I need to move out and be on my own. I need to not rely on anyone. I am 'too much'.

Where did it all go wrong?

I now understand exactly why I felt and still do feel unloved. It's because of this stuff... I got smacked and told I was never alone or on my own.. that I had so much support and help... but.. well.. yes I was. My mind and abilities and more belittled or looked over in favor of others to bring up. Everyone is guilty of doing this to me in my family. I won't go into details because it's a lot. Many times.. many bad ones... Often I was told my reality wasn't the truth too. How is that supportive? I appreciate every bit they have ever done for me, but trying to point out where they fell (just like all people do).. I'm suddenly the most ungrateful thing ever.

My own parents rely on each other AND a third party (their son) to pay the bills... My dad's siblings both live with his parents... My step mom's family members live with each other and rely on one another to get bills paid.... Not a single one is forced or really suggested to go room with randos if they can't do it on their own. It was brought up to W0lfie that it's an option for her this last week... But guess fucking what she got that I didn't AS WELL as that.. "We'll always have a place for you here."

I did get that when I was younger and nearly kicked out for refusing to tell my mother I was Trans. I eventually caved, but, HA they didn't believe me. That mess was sorted out.. messily and I got to stay... Lucky me... Not to mention the fact that only NOW I might finally be able to just accept it and not closet myself for the sake of everyone else because I'm THAT done.. yay therapy. I'll accept being non-binary because I can never actually be a man the way anyone around me will ever accept or believe.. but I'm not accepting 'being a woman'. Screw you peeps XP

...

I don't get that kind of support because I'm their eyes.. I'm too much. Should be able to do it on my own. Too lazy. Too awful as Tevs has managed to paint by completely omitting important details.. I can't say things in a few words. I just can't. Because this is exactly what happens... But regardless.. that's all she ever shares. Just enough I'm a monster. I'm sick and tired of it.

Reminds me...

My dad and mom and the rest of our family would never get birthday gifts or holiday cards or anything if I wasn't around. Same with our siblings. I remember. I make. I remind. I push. But... They don't even know about that. About what I try to do for them that gets twisted to look like it's all Tev's doing because I often can't make it to deliver it myself... And when I do idk.. I guess I do it wrong or something because it's so... Blah of a response.. like they think I'm NOT responsible for it and just taking credit... That hurts. A LOT.

...

I'm going to try. One more time. Once more. With Tevs. Give her one more chance to make and keep her word. To not bulldoze and make excuses and talk me up like some sort of unreasonable monster if/when she doesn't... And one more chance for my parents to hear me out. Get the full story. Get my feelings and experiences in return. On Monday I might have a chance to lay it all out. Maybe. I want to try. And if I get the same treatment.. well.. I think they might just be cut out of my life if I finally make it out on my own like they want. (Hopefully something income based will open up for me.. hopefully... I'm considering looking into a different city altogether to well and truly get away from them.. but that would depend on getting a job too.. bluh)

Ah that's a another thing too though.. the thing is.. I CAN work. I CAN pull 7 days a week, 16 hour days without spiraling!!! Making. I am a crafter. If making dresses or cosplays or embroidering or making blankets or trinkets or... If I was able to do THAT.. I could work and work and work no problem... Maybe even drawing..

But with the stress of this job and my other obligations, I can barely touch those things to even get started... Stick in the rut.. and materials are so expensive if I need anything extra I hit a roadblock... Totally locked in... And it breaks my heart...

I'm not lazy... I'm in the wrong job 😞