themegaoverpopulatedcountry-blog

[discoreptile]

Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!

[andragoras-in-vanity]

did i almost have a breakdown today because there were too many strawberries in my smoothie? maybe. maybe.

[alchemistc]

"Evan's not here," Tommy says, and Eddie scowls at him as he pushes past Tommy, already aiming for the kitchen as he hitches the six pack he'd brought with him up under his armpit. It'd been a - a thing. A 'my best friend and my new friend are too busy sucking face to spend every spare moment distracting me from my problems' thing, a thing where Eddie sort of finally understood exactly why Buck had hip checked him on the basketball court months ago. He wants his best friend back. He wants the ease of his friendship with Tommy back.

Which is - Christ, he's selfish, is the thing. A month without Chris there to keep him occupied and Eddie has had some startling realizations about himself. ("You're not selfish, Eddie, you're the most selfless person I know." from Buck and "So fix it," from Tommy, a rare night out with the both of them because he'd headed date night off at the pass by asking Tommy to go out for drinks before he and Buck could make plans without him).

"My world doesn't revolve around Buck," Eddie tells him, and screws the cap off a beer to hand it to Tommy. Tommy's doing that judgmental face he gets when he wants to say something bitchy but hasn't put the words in the right order yet. And - Eddie's not lying. Buck is a fixed point, an ever present life-line, but he's not the fucking sun.

Neither is Chris, apparently, which is news to Eddie and he's - spiralling, still. Quietly, calmly, and he's only punched one hole in the wall on a bad night.

"You ever go to Frank?" Eddie asks, like Frank is the only therapist in the greater LA area, and Tommy rolls his eyes, disappears long enough for the muted sound of the television to go quiet.

When he comes back Eddie's reading the label on his beer bottle

"Apparently I resent you," Eddie says, and Tommy chuffs a laugh.

"Apparently?"

"No, I -." The words had been just as hard two hours ago. This little trip was his own design, he'd been told specifically to sit in it for a while but Christ, an hour a week isn't enough time to talk through his issues and it's not like he can tell Buck he resents him for finding something he's happy and stable and solid in. So. Tommy it is. "You and Buck are good together. I'm happy for you both. I am."

Tommy settles against a countertop with his hip digging into the Formica. His kitchen has gained a dutch oven that looks suspiciously like the one Buck has been showing Eddie for like six months that he couldn't justify the cost of because he's not around enough to use it as much as he'd like.

"I'm not usually the one without his shit together," Eddie says.

"No offense, Eddie, but I thought the whole point of therapy was you realizing you rarely have your shit together."

Also true. He's - usually better at hiding it though. Kim was a joker stacked up on a wobbly house of cards and he'd known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that she'd bring the whole thing tumbling to the ground. Mass casualty event. No survivors.

"You make each other better people," Eddie says, which is the wrong thing to say apparently because Tommy scowls.

"If you wanna completely ignore all the work we've both put into ourselves," he snipes, and - yeah. Fair. Buck's been in therapy for years now. Every once in a while he'll pull something out of his ass that makes Eddie's skin itch - something so mystifyingly self-aware that it makes Eddie want to claw into his chest cavity and rip out his fucking heart. And Tommy - well, he doesn't know much but it's not like Tommy's the paragon of perfection. He's worked through some shit. Is still working through shit, if the aftermath of his and Buck's first real fight is any indication.

"I've never been with someone who makes me want to work on myself," Eddie admits, and the lines around Tommy's eyes shift. He sighs.

"Never gonna find that if you don't want it for yourself."

Yeah. Frank's said as much. It's just - Eddie doesn't have a starting point. Tommy had the whole hiding his true self thing, and Buck had the dead-brother-shitty-parents thing, and he's whittling them both down to the sharp edges of themselves in his mind, which isn't entirely fair but it's easier than trying to confront what the fuck his own problem is. Dead wife, his kid in another state, a contentious relationship with his father, a whole backlog of PTSD he's never really confronted head on. Weird feelings cropping up about a religion he thought he'd left in the dust and sand of Afghanistan and a hole he's been trying to fill up with other people since - well, he doesn't even know since when.

Tommy's got his dog tags laying in the bottom of an empty fruit bowl on his kitchen table. Eddie's never seen them before, and some part of him knows Tommy'd brought them out for a conversation with Buck he'll never hear himself, and he aches. He doesn't want them, but he wants what they have, wants to be able to talk about the difficult shit without closing in on himself, wants to have someone to come home to, wants -

"I spent six months imagining my therapist's head exploding every time she made me talk about something uncomfortable," Tommy tells him, and takes a long drag off his beer. For the first time since he'd knocked on Tommy's door, Eddie actually feels a little bad about interrupting his night, but that just leaves him spiralling some more because Eddie usually feels bad about everything, all the time, so why hadn't he felt guilty about this until now? And why does he feel guilty about not feeling guilty?

"I just want him to fix me," Eddie says, and Tommy laughs. Laughs hard and long enough that Eddie's feeling offended. Off kilter and pissed off and -

"You're not a single loose wire, Eddie. Can't just replace a cable and have a clean slate. You gotta change your oil and replace the spark plugs and top up the coolant, over and over again until you die."

It's the sort of metaphor Eddie'd like to lob across the field of engagement just to watch it get shot to pieces. It's apt, though.

"Feels like the whole engines gotta go," Eddie tells him "Transmission's shot and my catalytic converter keeps getting stolen and the mufflers been welded back on so many times that it's half-solder."

"Christ," Tommy says, which. Yeah. Exactly. "Well you can't exactly send yourself to the junk yard for scrap and buy a newer model."

"Buck does," Eddie snaps, and Tommy rolls his eyes. He'd been there the last time Buck brought up his 1.0 days.

"Half the time a system update patches ten bugs and creates twenty more."

"So Buck's buggy, is what you're saying."

He rolls his tongue over his teeth. "You are running off faulty software and you've been refusing to update to the new version because you heard it'd burn the battery faster, is what I'm saying."

Eddie doesn't have a whole lot of charge to begin with. And the metaphors are starting to muddle in his brain, too many different ideas battling around when he's already spent an ornery hour talking to Frank and another trying to convince himself he doesn't resent his best friend for accepting his own fucking flaws and working on them.

Tommy sets the beer bottle down. Eyes Eddie for a moment, and Eddie wonders how often he levels that look on Buck, how Buck feels when Tommy flays him open and digs through his insides. "You wanna go hit something for a bit?" he asks, and Eddie nods so quickly he nearly smacks his nose into the brim of the bottle in his own hand. He's about done feeling his feelings, for the moment. He'll probably end up being annoyed that Tommy makes him wrap his hands before he takes some aggression out on the bag hung up in the corner of Tommy's garage, but maybe when Tommy gets annoyed with him and does that takedown maneuver that knocks the wind out of Eddie's lungs when they're sparring he'll let that go.

Tommy flicks his forehead on the way to grab him something to wear. "That's for calling my boyfriend buggy, jackass," he says, and laughs himself all the way down the hall when Eddie splutters after him.

His bedroom door snicks shut by the time Eddie's recovered enough to remind him that he'd been Eddie's friend first.

[mxltifxnd0m]

must be love ❥ s.winchester

summary: social media/modern era au with stanford! sam winchester

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, slice of life, references to drinking, and one mention of sex

a/n: first social media au so please be nice to be loll. but this was fun to make! and who knows i might make more in the future 🤭

also happy b-day to jared padalecki our cancer king 😩🙌 (him being a cancer makes so much sense to me), and the user: dianhhboo is actually my friend to introduced me to spn and i wanted to add her in the fic 🤭

reblog and comment! i love to see your thoughts on my fics (even if this isn't technically a fic lol)

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

yourusername

liked by jessymoore, samwinchester, and 1490 others

yourusername life lately <3

tagged: jessymoore, dianahhboo, samwinchester, deansbaby67 +3 more

view all 780 comments

jessymoore we need to have more girls nights, finals are going to kill me ↳ yourusername 100% this paper might make me off myself ↳ dianhhboo remind me why i decided to major in psych 😭 ↳ jessymoore because we wanted free therapy after we graduated

deansbaby67 fyi i totally kicked your ass in cards ↳ yourusername mhm sure you did deanie you were totally not drunk off your ass the entire time ↳ deansbaby67 @ samwinchester sammy come and get your gf she's being mean to me ☹️ ↳ samwinchester not my problem 🤷‍♂️ ↳ deansbaby67 im never visiting you ever again

+ + +

samwinchester

liked by yourusername, dianhhboo, and 986 others

samwinchester study date for the LSATS with my love (we consumed so much coffee but she still fell asleep)

view all 532 comments

bradybunch dude i thought you said you wanted to study alone ↳ samwinchester your idea of studying is just having your work out and being on your phone ↳ bradybunch harsh... but fair

yourusername i was running on fumes and that book was really boring i couldn't help it ↳ samwinchester how much sleep did you get in the past week... ↳ yourusername ummm like 5 hours... ↳ samwinchester per night? ↳ yourusername ...the entire week ↳ samwinchester BABE!? that's it, you're not studying anymore, come to my dorm, we're going to bed ↳ yourusername 😏😏 ↳ samwinchester we're SLEEPING honey ↳ yourusername 😒

deansbaby67 nerds ↳ samwinchester really dean? ↳ deansbaby67 just calling it how i see it ↳ samwinchester whatever 🙄

+ + +

yourusername

liked by deansbaby67, winchestermary, and 1567 others

yourusername guys i love my bf 🥰🥰

tagged: samwinchester

view all 990 comments

deansbaby67 barf 🤢 this is not what i wanted to see first thing in the morning ↳ yourusername sorry mr. one night stands ↳ deansbaby67 are you slut shaming me? ↳ yourusername ofc i am 😍

samwinchester i love you too but why those photos 😭 ↳ yourusername why not? i need to show the ppl my smoking hot and sweet boyfriend 😘

jessymoore youre cheating on me?! im leaving and taking the kids ↳ yourusername WAIT NO BABE HE MEANS NOTHING I SWEAR DONT TAKE THE KIDS ↳ jessymoore too late the papers are on your desk ↳ deansbaby67 wth did i just read?

+ + +

samwinchester

liked by dianhhboo, bradybrunch, and 1053 others

samwinchester love you my silly girl ❤️

tagged: yourusername

view all 865 comments

dianhhboo you guys are disgustingly cute ↳ jessymoore right? like please we get it you're in love

yourusername ive trained you well in taking candids 🤭 also when did you take those photos? ↳ samwinchester a magician never reveals his secrets 🤫 ↳ yourusername you're a dork ↳ samwinchester ah but you love this dork ↳ yourusername unfortunately ↳ samwinchester UNFORTUNATELY??

yourusername im kidding i love you sammy ❤️ ↳ samwinchester i love you too i guess ↳ yourusername oh great ive triggered sassy sammy

+ + +

yourusername

liked by jessymoore, bradybunch and 1267 others

yourusername officially moved in with sammy 💛

tagged: samwinchester

view all 763 comments

deansbaby67 uhh at least tag me for helping you two dweebs move in? ↳ yourusername sorry 🙄

yourusername add'l creds to @ deansbaby67 bc he's a big baby ↳ deansbaby67 thank you future sister-in-law ↳ yourusername @ samwinchester 🤨🤨 wanna explain? ↳ samwinchester @ yourusername not really

winchestersmary congrats on moving in you two! i hope to see you soon ↳ yourusername aah thank you mary we'll be visiting for christmas 😁

samwinchester i love you baby ↳ yourusername love you more sammy ↳ samwinchester impossible

[theotherbuckley]

Im in love with this fic and i need more

🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵

You're an amazing writer btw 🩷🪱

Thank you! I'm glad people are liking this fic 🥰

Here's 900 more words just for you <3

🦵 - Buck and Tommy meet at physio after the truck bombing

Tommy isn’t there at his next physio appointment — now only seeing his physiotherapist once every two weeks, unlike Buck who still has to see her every week. The session feels slower than normal; it always does when he’s alone. Bobby promised him that next time he would be able to come with, but today, there’s no one, not even Tommy, to chat with afterwards. 

Dr Mistry seems to sense his subdued mood and has taken to being far more cheerful than he can ever recall.

“Why are you so happy?” he asks, slumping down into his chair after she had given his leg a deep and rather unpleasant massage. 

Dr Mistry turns to him, shooting him a look which he doesn’t care to decipher. “You are quiet. It’s unsettling.”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again, staring at his doctor. “Hey, I don’t talk that much.”

“You haven’t even complained one time.”

And okay, that’s fair, but still. 

“I’m just tired,” Buck tells her. It’s not even a lie. He is tired. He’s always tired. He’s just a little spacey today. He’s been feeling quite defeated lately. Sometimes, it feels like all of his hard work is for nothing. His leg still aches like bitch whenever the weather changes, and he only just managed to complete the full length of the bar unaided last session, far behind where he should have been at this point. He’s trying so hard to get better, to work again, but it doesn’t matter how much effort he puts in, it’s never enough. He’s never enough. 

And when there’s nobody with him to tell his brain to shut up, he gets stuck inside his head, and he doesn’t quite know how to get out of it. 

It’s exhausting. 

So he’s tired. He really, really is. 

It’s just a type of tiredness that he doesn’t think he can recover from. Not until his leg is recovered, at least. 

Dr Mistry looks at him for a moment, her eyes scanning over his face, hyperanalysing his expressions as though she can see right down into his soul, see all of those helpless thoughts running around in his head. “There’s doctors for that,” she says, and Buck doesn’t have to ask what she means. 

“I don’t need therapy,” Buck says back, a little too defensively. He’s probably lying, but he doesn’t want to see anyone. He’s fine. He will be. It just takes time, isn’t that what everyone keeps saying?

“It’s not healthy to keep everything stuck inside. Sometimes it is good to let it all out,” she continues, ignoring his slight outburst. 

“I have people. It’s just— It’s hard when they’re not around.”

She nods in understanding but hands him a card anyway. “Just think about it.”

He takes the card begrudgingly and sticks it in his wallet, where he knows he’s not going to touch it again. He doesn’t need help. He just needs to be able to walk— to work. He’ll be fine after that. 

As soon as he gets home, he takes the card out of his wallet and stares at it. 

And then he texts Tommy. 

Buck: Have you ever seen a therapist?

Tommy: Hi Tommy how are you

I’m great thank you for asking

Buck: Yeah yeah

Answer the question

Tommy: I have

Buck: And? 

My doctor wants me to see one

But I don’t want to

Especially not after last time

I’m not that guy anymore

Tommy: Not what guy?

Buck: Not the guy who sleeps with his therapist

Tommy: I’m not sure if I should ask

Buck: Probably best

So..?

Tommy: Therapy helped me

I wasn’t a great guy before

Buck almost scoffs at his phone. Tommy the guy who drove him home and helped him up multiple flights of stairs, whilst injured, on their first meeting, wasn’t a good guy?

Buck: You? Be honest

Tommy: I wasn’t

Turns out repressing my sexuality and listening to what my father taught me is not a good combination

Hurt a lot of people because of it

But therapy helped

I’m comfortable being myself now

Buck has to pause at that. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with it, he just didn’t really expect it. Maybe that’s not a good thing to say. He’s an ally, actually. The rainbow flag in his bio every June proves that. 

Buck: Wait

You’re gay?

Tommy: I am, yeah. Is that a problem?

Buck: No of course not! Men are hot.

Tommy: Mmhmm  

Buck: So you think I should do it?

Tommy: Do what?

Buck: See a therapist

Tommy: I don’t know, Evan

That’s up to you

But if your doctor suggested it, maybe you should listen

Buck: And I don’t need to sleep with them?

Tommy: You definitely do not.

Even after the conversation, Buck can’t bring himself to dial the number on the card. His stomach rumbles after a while, and Buck looks at his watch, mildly surprised to find it past 3 pm. He drops the card on the coffee table, and hobbles to the kitchen with his cane to make himself some food. 

When he sits back down, his mind is focused on queer history, and he finds himself googling pride and forgetting all about therapy. It wasn’t like he needed it anyway.

[itshype]

How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)

Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?

However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.

Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.

First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.

Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.

After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.

There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.

A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.

While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.

NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.

He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.

He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.

He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.

"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"

"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."

"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"

Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.

It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.

"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/23/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Astroglide; Articles; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Never Left Podcast; OFMD Colouring Pages; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos Dad popped out to send some love and support today!

Img Src: David Jenkins Twitter

= Taika Waititi =

Well, Taika broke the internet today with his Belvedere commercial. Directed and starred in it. Be sure to open a window because it is hot.

= Samba Schutte =

Samba has started up a new T Shirt campaign to benefit the charity @everymomcounts that helps to make pregnancy and childbirth, safe and equitable! You can either buy a #CrewForLife t-shirt, or sign up for one of his baking classes/meet and greets!

Our Merch Means Death on Stands

Delicious Chaos with Samba Schutte

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico starred in a short called Fire F*cking Fire and great news it's headed to the Tribeca Film Festival in June!

Img Src: Vico Ortiz IG

== Astroglide ==

Our besties over at @astroglideofficial put out a word search today with a few words/phrases you'll recognise!

Img Src: Astroglide Twitter

== Articles ==

Warner Bros. Stock Has Had a Rough Year. Why This Analyst Thinks It Will Get Even Worse.

Mark Indelicato Frustrated With Queer Shows Constantly Cancelled

== Fan Spotlight ==

== Cast Cards ==

Our fabulous @melvisik has another cast card for us! Tonight's is another one of the bourgeousie that Frenchie and Olu manageed to include in their Pyramid Scheme! They are the one that Olu told to "Go Away"!

Img Src: @melvisik's Twitter

== Never Left Podcast ==

Next episode of the podcast Never Left is out! This one is Beautiful Princess Disorder Part 5!

Never Left Instagram

Never Left Linktr.ee

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

More colouring pages from the fantastic @patchworkpiratebear ! Visit their tumblr for more!

== Love Notes ==

Hey there Lovelies. Happy Taika Tuesday! Did you have a good day today?

Dad's comments today brought out a lot of folks sharing their stories on therapy and I wanted to chat about it for a moment.

First of all, if you're delving out for the first time (or trying again after years of not going)-- just know, you're being really brave. Depending on where you come from and your background, mental health may not have been something that your family prioritized (or maybe it was but therapy was never an option). It can be pretty scary to talk to someone you don't know about your inner most worries. You're taking a big step, and I'm proud of you for that.

You've looked at your situation, whatever tough things you're experiencing, and you've decided to prioritize you and your mental health-- and that's amazing. It's a hard decision to make sometimes, and as simple as it should be, it's not that easy. I'm so happy that mental health is talked about and therapy is so much more accepted now a days. Growing up I was in a situation where we "didn't talk about ourselves to other people" and that can be so very lonely when you are feeling really down.

I wanted to mention a couple things that I didn't know going into therapy-- in case they help at all, but obviously every experience is different, so feel free to take or leave the advice :)

Firstly, therapy doesn't solve things overnight. Sometimes it'll take weeks, or months, or years to unpack some of the things you really need to work through. It'll take time. When I went to therapy for the first time, for some reason I thought I'd just be able to dump all my problems out on a table and the therapist would pick one and we'd work on it. Instead it was a gradual thing, where they got to know me, I got to know them, and the more we talked the more we were able to unravel. I just don't want you to get discouraged if it takes longer than you planned, it's definitely a process.

Secondly, something to remember, is not all therapists are going to vibe with you. It took me a few tries before I found a therapist that really worked well with me. If you don't feel like it's helping, consider looking into a different therapist, sometimes it's not the therapy that you're struggling with, but just a mismatched vibe with your therapist. If you can help it-- don't give up right away, try another, I was really grateful that I did.

Thirdly, and if you're like me, this is a tough one. Remember to advocate for yourself. Sometimes a therapist may want to try certain therapies, or exercises, and it's something you've tried and just isn't working for you, or they want to go a medication route and you dont, or maybe they're saying something you disagree with. Remember you're your own advocate here, and they're here to help you, not hinder you from getting to where you want to be. Speak up for yourself if you can.

Lastly, therapy, especially the first few, don't always end in happy feelings. Think of it like a muscle in your leg that you haven't been using for years...and it's atrophied. You have to build that muscle back up, and it can really hurt occasionally during that time. You might leave therapy feeling worse once or twice because you're finally letting out some of that vitriol you've been holding onto for so long. It should feel better later.. maybe the next day, but it may not feel great the same day. That's a perfectly reasonable experience to have, and if you feel awesome, that is too!

Anyway lovelies, not sure if that helps, but I wanted to share it just in case it helped someone.

Whether you're going to therapy tomorrow, or soon, or ever, or never, I am really proud of you. You're doing what you need for you, and that's the most important thing. You deserve good things, and healthy thoughts and positive feelings. You really do. You got this <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is hats <3 Taika Gif Courtesy of the phenomenal @ofmd-ann, Darby gif Courtesy of the lovely @funforahermit

[thetriumphantpanda]

I Was Enchanted To Meet You | J. Miller Drabble

Summary | Literally just a Drabble about Joel being an era's tour dad, meeting a pretty girl in cowboy boots and flirting. That's it. It's dumb. This goes out to my girl Doni @morning-star-joy who is going to see Tay-Tay tonight and can now be delulu about meeting Joel Miller there. And also therapy for me because I'm in the UK and got waitlisted for tickets, so CRIES. I wrote this in like an hour so excuse any spelling/grammar errors.

Joel Miller didn't exactly understand when he'd signed up to take Sarah to her first concert. When she'd asked to use his credit card to buy the tickets, he'd just nodded and handed it over. When his bill came through the next month, he almost passed out from the cost. But stood here now, in seats that might very well give him a nosebleed, watching Sarah almost lose her mind over the fact that Taylor Swift was about to appear on stage, it was all forgotten. All Joel ever wanted was for his little girl to be happy.

He'd spent weeks listening to the songs, learning the lyrics so he might be able to sing along with Sarah. He watched her sit in front of the television each night making bracelets to trade, and he squirrelled away as much money as possible so he could buy her a t-shirt or something on the night too.

Joel was watching as Sarah swapped friendship bracelets with two girls to her right when something else caught his eye. Two people shuffling into the two seats that had been vacant in front of Joel and Sarah for most of the night. One of them, around Sarah's age, was almost as excited as his girl, bouncing up and down, looking around the stadium with eyes as wide as saucers, taking it all in, but you? You were something else entirely. You had a white cowboy hat sat on top of your head, not dissimilar to his own apart from the colour and the fact yours was covered in sparkly rhinestones. You had a white dress on, falling to your mid-thigh, made of lace and scalloped edges, and a pair of beat-up old brown leather cowboy boots. The literal picture of heaven on earth as far as he was concerned.

He watched as you pointed to the two seats in front of him and Sarah, motioning for the other girl to sit down so you could hand her the soda you were carrying. He noticed your wrists were covered in the same type of bracelets his daughter had been going wild for all evening. Almost on cue, Sarah leans over, tapping your shoulder.

"You wanna trade?" She asks, holding up her own plastic-laden wrist to show you.

"Hell yeah," You smile, nudging the girl with you, "Why don't you give this little superstar one of yours too?"

Joel watches intently as you let Sarah scan your wrists for the specific bracelet she wants, picking one made of pink beads, swapping it with one of hers that was made of black and gold. Joel had no idea what any of them meant, all he knew was that the bill for friendship bracelet materials on his credit card nearly rivalled the bill for the tickets.

"You want one as well, mister?" Your voice cuts through his thoughts, "Can't come and see Taylor and leave with empty wrists I'm afraid."

"Well, I ain't got anything to trade ya with." Joel shrugs.

"That's okay," you smile, "I'll forgive you, this time."

Joel keeps an eye trained on you as you search your wrists, obviously having something incredibly specific in mind for him. You find it, eyes lighting up as you pull it from your wrist and hand it over to him. He takes the delicate thing in his big palm - red, white and blue beads with letters in hearts that spell out 'Cowboy Like Me'. Very fitting.

"Thanks, Darlin'," He smiles, slipping it over his hand, "You been waiting to find the perfect man to give that to all night?"

You let your head fall back in a laugh and Joel thinks you might just be the prettiest goddamned girl he's ever seen in his life. Sarah is pulling at his wrist so she can see exactly what bracelet you've given her dad, laughing and then leaning forward.

"I made him wear the hat!" She exclaims, "Told him he had to fit in."

"Well, you made a good choice," You grin, "He looks mighty fine in his cowboy hat."

You finally turn your attention back to your companion - judging by your likeness he assumes it must be your little sister. You're pointing out things around the stadium for her to look at, and he can't help but find it endearing how she's bouncing in her seat at every little thing, much like Sarah had done when they'd taken their seats.

Joel feels a nudge to his side, Sarah is looking up at him with that glint he knows and loves so much - she's got an idea.

"She's really pretty, dad."

"Sarah!" He chastises, eye flickering to you to make sure you didn't hear what she'd said, but you look completely oblivious.

"She is though!" She retorts in a hushed whisper, "I think she likes you."

Joel brings a finger to his lips to try and get this devil of a girl to be quiet, but he can't help but indulge her - Sarah was right, you are really pretty, "She don't know the first thing about me," He finishes the conversation, "Now you sit tight, I'm going to find you a soda."

When Joel returns, to drinks in hand, he can see Sarah leant over the seats speaking to you. He dreads to think what she's been trying to cook up, seemingly obsessed with making sure he's not so lonely in life anymore.

"Move over," He asks, Sarah shifting to the seat he was in before he left, "Don't drink it all at once, you'll need it for all the screaming you're gonna do." He says, handing the soda to her.

Once he sits back down, you turn in your chair to speak to him.

"Sarah says you're a builder?" She asks, clearly just trying to make polite conversation with him whilst your sister speaks to Sarah.

"Contractor actually," He shrugs, as if it matters, "But yeah, I build stuff, what do you do?"

"I'm a teacher," You smile, "Teach 4th grade." He's about to ask you another question when every single person in the stadium starts screaming, he thinks by the end of tonight he might actually be deaf, "Well, you enjoy the show, mister, hope you learnt some lyrics."

Contrary to what he'd thought, Joel actually does enjoy the show. He sings along to some of the songs he remembers, dances with Sarah for most of the night and keeps a close eye on you during it all. You know every single word to every single song, just like your little sister and he has to admit that when you're throwing your hands in the air and screaming to the lyrics, he finds you prettier than he had done all night.

When all is said and done at the end of the night, you say a polite goodbye to him and Sarah. When he finally sits in his truck, waiting for the scores of traffic to clear so he can get them home, he kicks himself for not asking for your number, but resigns himself to the fact that it was fate. Meant to meet once and that was it. It's not until he's finally carried Sarah up to bed, fast asleep in his arms and settled down to unwind in front of the TV that he pulls his phone from his pocket and sees a message from an unknown number.

I was enchanted to meet you, Joel. Drinks? Saturday @ 6pm?

[v1naco]

Okay hear me out

Simon Riley x reader but Venom AU.

Like Simon did go into the military but he left a couple years after when (I know this is not canon cause I love his family too much and my baby deserves happiness) his family gets attacked. They’re still alive (besides his father cause fuck that dude) but they got seriously injured.

The attack left him hurt mentally a lot and having to help them heal when he was struggling with his own things made it all worse. So when he went on a night walk he somehow comes across Venom and they bond(?I don’t know how to put it?).

Fast forward years later when his family is a lot better health wise, he uses catching bad guys and letting Venom eat most of them to blow off excess steam and as his therapy. He is out doing his regular shit eating bad guys and he comes across you getting robbed.

You just had a horrible day at work and just wanted to go home and sleep but this guy just had to choose you, a young woman a lone with her earbud(s) in and a backpack on her back walking past the opening of an alleyway at like 11pm.

You were too tired and smart to fight and decided to give the man what he wanted, money, but you only had $3.34 on you from tips and change. The man was pissed, but what is a woman in her last year of college supposed to have, a centurion card (Black Card)? You were living off of hard hours working in the restaurant industry and the scholarships you got to not go in dept after you graduate, even now. You were even an RA but tuition is still pricy.

Simon saw the squabble and knew you just needed some help, since the man just pulled a knife out, and you looked like you could just lay on the floor and sleep the next week away.

Simon (actually Venom) lands on the ground and politely, to the best of his abilities which is none, tells the man to hand back you your money and to walk away. The man argued saying he deserved it, you just wanted to walk away but as Venom took his first step out into the light the man grabs your arm and puts the knife to your neck.

Now you were not only pissed but scared, pissed that if this man slits your throat or puts you in the hospital it can ruin your chance at graduating, and after all those gruesome years of pain and suffering you did not want to redo a whole year. Scared because who wouldn’t be scared of a knife to your neck and the guy holding it looks like his off his rocker.

When you turned your head towards Simon, not only did he see the fear and anger in your eyes but he saw how beautiful you were, even as he could see the light sheen of sweat on you, your dirty hair, and the prominent eye bags you were carrying around, but he would call those bags gucci with how beautiful you looked still with no make up and the bad situation you got unlucky with.

When you saw him your eyes widened. Apparently the man had gotten more scared than you seeing the big black and dark gray mass. Shaped with a human complexion of a body but the head was obviously alien.

The man shoved the knife’s dull blade into your neck enough to draw a small line of blood. Though he didn’t get far enough to cut you deeper since Venom shot a tendril out and grabbed the mans arm. The man dropped the knife due to the pain radiating from his arm. Venom asked (really he threatened) the man to hand you back what he stole from you and he threw insults, calling you all sorts of names you wished to never be called by anyone.

Simon, and especially Venom, was in a happier mood today and would have let that man go with a very distinct warning, but those insults thrown at you slammed that “good day” door right on their faces. Simon believed that no words such as the ones he spoke, should be heard by your pretty ears, those pretty ears with all those pretty jewelry on every inch of them, dangling and reflecting the street and store lights off of the jewels.

Simon didn’t wish for you to see this next part but Venom liked your ear piercings and tattoos and was getting very cranky and wished to take a bite of that man’s head. Simon couldn’t stop Venom in time and the next thing you notice is the blood and the top part of the man’s cervical vertebrae sticking out.

You were a wide eyed doe right then and there. With your hand on your mouth not trying to breath anything around you in. Venom then turns and asks if you’re alright. He was sorry you had to see it, you just nodded and continued to look at the body, slowly and weirdly getting used to it the more you stared at it. You believe you should take a break from all those movies and shows that has a lot of gore in it, believing that your reaction to this situation is not normal.

With how you reacted, and noticing you not shaking much at all anymore, Venom strikes up a conversation with you, much to Simon’s protest. He noticed the accent and figures out that you are not originally from the area, definitely from a different country. As seconds pass, Venom and Simon like you more and more. Asking to walk you home to make sure you are okay, Venom changes back to Simon and he walks you home. You’re much too surprised and still very much so tired and don’t try to fight him on his request to walk you home. But you enjoy the silence between you both, it was calming and you didn’t need to listen to music to fill that silence for once.

When he reached your home he wished you a safe and well night. You stop him real quickly, asking if you could do anything for him to repay him for helping you. He said he didn’t need anything from you. Just as he was turning to walk away you ask to at least cook him a mean sometime, him AND Venom of course, remembering that Venom said that that man’s head was not tasty and he was still hungry.

Simon did not wish to bring you into his pain filled life, but he wished to be selfish for once for his own happiness and with that Simon agrees. He walks away with one lesser bad guy on the streets and with a new number in his contacts, ready to set up a dinner with the woman he knew would later marry.

Anyway thats my little thought of a Simon Riley Venom AU. I did’t specify an age of the reader cause people are different ages during their college/university years and some people go to school for more than the regular 2-4 years. But I was thinking Simon would be about around 25 while the reader is around 22/23 but can be older, maybe even 21 if you want her to be, but nothing under cause those specific age gaps weird me out.

I also did not specify his and her appearance or what she wears bc I don’t really care but if I did I would say more so jeans, converse, and t-shirt with maybe a zip up type style. I do love a girly with many piercings and tattoos though so I wanted to put it in there.

Anyway…sorry Im a d1 yapper😔. I just thought a simon+venom au would be perfect and he would fit the role of Eddie so well. Especially with the motorcycle ugh creaming rn😩. Ehem. Do with this how you want but I do hope that if you do use this please tag me. Maybe give me credits for this idea since I have not found anything like this anywhere if you want. But yeah if someone writes this PLEASE TAG ME. I write for shit so I definitely am not.

[fairystar111]

Oh Baby Blue, don't you know I love you?

By: fairystar111

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Summary:

How far would you go for your family? To Enji Todoroki family means everything. He knows he’s made some mistakes in the past but doesn’t he deserve a chance to make up for all the hurt he caused? To right all his wrongs and create a new happy family. Shouto would beg to differ. He doesn’t want to be his fathers second chance. He just wants to be free.

Characters: Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Todoroki Shouto.

Tags: Infantilism, Forced Infantilism, Age Regression/De-Aging, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Yandere, Brainwashing, Conditioning, Gaslighting, Mind Manipulation, Medical Inaccuracies, Yandere Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Platonic Yandere, Possessive Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Post-Final War Arc (My Hero Academia).

✧❅🕯❅✧

It started after the war. The battle had been ruthless and barbaric; many lives were lost on both sides, heroes, villains, comrades, and civilians alike but in the end the hero's won. Shouto had helped bring an end to evil or so he had thought…Thinking back on it, this is probably around the time the crazed look began to resurface in his father’s gaze. It probably had to do with his older brother coming back from the dead, only to almost die yet again trying to take Shouto down with him. Shouto had not died but was put into a medical coma since his injuries were so severe. He doesn't know what happened in the time he was asleep but when he finally awoke his father had begun to act strange . 

They were given a mandatory semester off to take in the after effects of the war. During this time his father had been very accommodating, a little too accommodating if you asked Shouto. Anytime he needed anything his father was right there one step ahead. Whether it be feeding Shouto, helping him walk to the bathroom, carefully bathing him when he was too weak to do it himself, helping him with his physical therapy or simply fluffing his pillows. Shouto had allowed it, thinking maybe he was overcompensating for the past,  he did say he would give him a chance so he sat back and allowed himself to be taken care of. Big mistake. 

Soon he couldn't lift a spoon without his father there to fuss over him. He thought as the end of the semester neared and his physical therapy lulled to a stop, the man would stop his endless pampering. He was wrong . Even as his physical capabilities increased the man still insisted on helping him bathe, spoon feeding him as if he were a child, and tucking him into bed hours before his usual curfew. He doesn't know why but whenever the man is caring for him, his gaze is always so intense, eyes roaming Shouto’s face like he’s looking for something. What he’s searching for, Shouto doesn't know. Maybe an indignant reaction or a bratty retort like the ones he used to spit at him before the war. Whatever it is he’s looking for, he never finds, his father always walks away disappointed. It makes the little part of him deep inside that still wishes for his fathers approval angry to think even when he is being civil he’s still not enough for his father.

When the last week of their mandatory break drew to a close, Shouto was more than ready to leave the suffocating house he was forced to call home. The tension in the house had been steadily rising each day with Shouto trying to avoid his father’s odd treatment and Enji breaking through any boundary the boy tried to put in place. It all came to a boiling point when his father caught him off guard, grabbing him unexpectedly as he was walking to his room after a particularly stifling dinner. And carrying him to his office to have a discussion, one week before he was supposed to go back to school.

“Ugh what do you want now?” Shouto groaned as his father finally set him down onto a plush office chair, slapping away the hands gently carding through his hair.

“Behave Shouto, I brought you here to speak with you regarding your schooling not to fight. As I was saying, this fall you will not be returning to classes. I’ve made the decision to pull you out of school to focus on your health and well being.” Enji gently chided him, voice so soft and unlike anything he used to use before. The memories of harsh words and violent outbursts echoed in Shouto’s mind reminding him to not fall for the act. His father may be trying to be “better” but he will always be the same obsessive controlling man he once knew.  

The boy scoffed. “My health? I’m fine now. I can go back to school just fine like everyone else.” It was true, the head injury he had received had healed and with regular stretching and exercise the scarring he received in his fight with his brother no longer bothered him. There was nothing left to heal.

“I’ve already decided Shouto.” Tone leaving no room for argument, face stern but eyes staring at him so softly. It made him uncomfortable. Shouto didn't know how to deal with softness when it came to his father. Pummeling fists and demeaning words he could deal with but this: the kind loving stares and endless spoiling he had no clue what to do with. “This is for your own good.”

His voice was a soft one as if he was placating a tantruming toddler; it only angered Shouto further. “I don't care what you think I need. You're not my only parent. If you won't let me go to school, then I’ll have mom help re-enroll me.” His mother was doing so much better and was currently being evaluated and prepped to be discharged. Soon she’ll be living on her own in her own home with Natsuo and Fuyumi. He’s sure she wouldn’t mind if he came to live with her instead. 

His father's face saddened as it always did whenever he brought up his mother. “Your mother cannot make any decisions on your behalf considering her previous struggles with her mental health. She lost any legal rights over you due to the incident.” Issues he had caused with his selfishness and abuse.

The boy's face flushed in anger. He couldn’t believe he was doing this again. He was so stupid to believe his father could ever change.“Y-you can't do this to me! You have no right!” he yelled.

“I am your father. I have every right to make what I feel are the best choices for you. This is all in your best interest son. I’m not trying to hurt you.” His arms reached forward, likely trying to pull him into a hug, but Shouto flinched away. 

“Well it's not like that's ever bothered you before. When have you ever cared about hurting your children.” The boy hissed, dismissing himself quickly before his father got his hands on him again.

✧❅🕯❅✧

After their discussion life in the Todoroki home became tense more so than ever switching between constant screaming matches and cold silent treatment. Shouto doing his very best to avoid his fathers constant coddling and failing miserably resulting in more fights than he can count. It all came to a head the day he tried to leave, the day everything changed. 

Shouto had woken up before sunrise for the first day back to classes. He figured if he got there early he could speak with Nedzu and figure something out, like possibly becoming a ward of UA. He had carefully put on his uniform as quietly as possible before sneaking to the entry way to slip on his shoes. He put his bag over his shoulder and gently opened the door, tensing when he felt a large hand land on his shoulder. He turned to see his father. He didn't know how someone so huge could be so silent on his feet to have snuck up on him. 

“It’s early, you should go back to bed.” His fathers voice gruff voice sounded through the silent halls, still raspy from sleep. He was likely roused by some sort of alarm system Shouto had unknowingly tripped. 

“No, I'm going to school.” Shouto tried to stay firm despite the slight tremble going through his body. He can’t stay in this house any longer. Everyday he spent here he could feel the life being drained out of him. He fears if he doesn’t leave now he’ll end up like his mother did. A mere shell of what she once was, living like a ghost in her own home before her mind shattered completely. 

“We've already discussed this Shouto, stop this foolishness.” His father let out a resigned sigh as moved him away from the door, having to pry his hands off the frame before closing it.  “Now let’s get you out of this uniform and tucked back into bed.” Gently pushing him toward his bedroom, his grip still tight on his shoulder. 

Shouto tried to pull himself out of his fathers hold yelling, “Let go of me!”, struggling harder as he used his other hand to land hits on his father’s wrist hoping to loosen his hold on him.

“Please stop fighting! Shouto stop squirming!” Enji said in between hits, “We do not hit others, Shouto! Stop it NOW!” The man accidentally raised his voice, reaching down for his son's other arm. 

Shouto couldn't help the yelp that escaped his throat as his body automatically flinched back, freezing at the hand coming towards him too quickly. His dad’s face softened and he pulled him into a hug taking advantage of his frozen state and whispering gentle reassurances that he would never hurt him again. “How about we spend the rest of the morning in my room? We can sleep in and have a nice big breakfast later, alright?”

It's asked like a suggestion but really it's an order, that is what’s going to happen, Shouto has no choice in the matter. “Okay,” he responds, letting out a sad sigh as he is picked up and carried into his fathers bedroom. His uniform is shed and replaced with a soft pair of pajamas he’s never seen before. A soft pale gray footed sleeper with little white bunnies decorating the footies, a fluffy white belly, and fuzzy bunny ears on the hood. It oddly reminded him of something a infant would wear, his father looked strangely happy to see him in it. He shrugged it off, chalking it up to be more of his fathers strange new behavior and left it at that. Not bothering to argue, too devastated from being caught to think too hard about it. 

As the anger fled his body all that was left behind was a deep sadness at the thought of what he will lose. All his friends he’s bonded with will move forward in their paths to become heroes and he will be left behind stuck in this house with no one but his father. His father pulls him close to his body resting his chin on top of his head cuddling him like a teddy bear when he begins to cry as if that would comfort him. He wonders if his father even cares about why he’s crying himself to sleep. If he didn't, it wouldn't be the first time he ignored his children's pain in favor of doing what he wants. He falls asleep dreading waking back up at all. 

✧❅🕯❅✧

Then the next day his father had gone out briefly to consult with his doctors on a treatment plan for what exactly Shouto doesn't know. He feels fine but apparently something is still wrong since his dad arrived with a new medication prescribed specifically for him by his doctors. He said it was to prevent any latent negative effects to his brain, the head injury might have caused. He took the pill offered to him without further question. 

He didn’t notice the changes at first or his father’s underhanded plan at work. Looking back on it he should have been more suspicious of his fathers eager, almost giddy attitude whenever he took his “medicine”. Or the fact that every time he was given his daily dose of medication his father made sure to include a word that he now recognizes as a trigger. He didn't catch it at first but as time progressed and the dosage was upped the emphasis on the word became more overt and less subtle as the symptoms began to get stronger. 

“It’s just a little pill, it shouldn't be too hard to swallow, ” He took it, not much changed aside from him starting to feel a bit spacy and losing track of time. 

“It's just a couple more pills than usual Shouto. They're so little it shouldn't matter.”   He started to feel more tired in the day, often leading to his father putting him down for naps midday or else he’d find him sleeping in random spots around the house. His attention was also beginning to be drawn to the childish cartoons his father insisted on playing on the television for him. He had never paid attention to them before finding them boring but now he could hardly tear his eyes away. 

“It's time for your medicine, little boy.”   He began to stumble both on his words and his feet. Big words made his tongue feel heavy and his mouth syrupy, unable to move in a way necessary for complex speech. Instead of fighting through the thick fog to speak normally he found himself adjusting to broken speech and foggy state of mind. When he became frustrated with his unsteady steps and wobbly legs his father was quick to suggest a solution. ‘Maybe it would be easier if you crawled? There's less risk of serious injury if you fall when you are closer to the ground,’ he said as if it was the most obvious choice in the world. The pills made him more vulnerable to suggestion and easier to accept changes without noticing the oddity of what was being asked. Soon it was second nature for him to crawl around when he began to feel small.

“It’s time to be little , Shouto.” He doesn't know how long it's been but Daddy hasn't been giving him medicine anymore. With only a word the fuzziness invades his mind, reducing him into nothing more than a helpless child. Logic and complex thought are thrown out the window along with his fine motor skills. He finds simple things so much more painful and his emotions feel so much stronger. Tears are seemingly always leaking from his eyes followed by wails for his Daddy. But as easily as he is hurt, he is quick to forgive and forget, his little self is quite endeared with his father. Always reaching for Daddy to be picked up or cuddled, happy to play and indulge his Papa’s every whim. Or getting upset when his father leaves, whether to use the bathroom or make dinner. He finds himself tearing up wishing for his Daddy to come back, missing the man despite him being just down the hall.  It was irrational illogical but…somehow his father has managed to turn him into a sort of ghost of the past. He’s managed to bring out the child he once hurt and use him against Shouto.

By the time he had broken out of the trance and realized the word was what was triggering the fuzzy childlike state of mind, it was too late. He had already been trained. As soon as his father says the word, he doesn’t want to fight back any more. His little self doesn’t want to leave. He likes the new father, the kind father, the never violent father. He had been fooled.

What's worse is, he’s found that his mind is beginning to revert to that little headspace on its own. Whenever he is stressed or in pain he’ll regress back to that childlike state of mind even without his father around to initiate it. He’ll go back to being that naive dumb little boy, vulnerable and longing for a family that has long since left him behind.

His inner child is too trusting and helpless; his father doesn’t deserve to handle this part of him, especially not like this. Not when the only reason he got to see it at all was by betraying his trust and forcing him out. He should have never trusted in his father. He never realized how far his father would go to keep him trapped under his control until he did…

It had been during one of the rare moments that his father allowed him to be big, that he caught a glance at the date on his father’s phone screen. He had forgotten it on his bedside table while putting him down for a nap. Shouto had grabbed it, meaning to return it to his father when the screen lit up automatically. Then he saw it. Six months had passed. ‘No it can't be.’ he thought to himself shocked. It felt like just last week he had been trying to sneak out for the first day of school. There’s no way this could be right. Is this why his father had forbidden his electronics? Why he had any and all clocks removed from the house? The reason he couldn't watch any news? His body trembled as he clutched the device tightly in his hand. Rage lit his body as he heard heavy footsteps walking back towards his room. 

“Shouto baby, have you seen my–” Enji froze as he took in his son’s stormy expression looking down at the device in his hand. ‘Ah, I guess we're doing this today.’ he thinks to himself. It's a bit sooner than he expected but his baby has always managed to surpass his expectations so he shouldn’t be too surprised. It's alright he can work with this, though it is down to Shouto which route he takes. He hopes he chooses the path of least resistance but alas his baby has never known what's good for him.

“Is it true? Have I really been stuck here for half a year?” his father nodded in a nonchalant manner, seeming unbothered by his discovery. If that was true, how long has his father been on leave? There's no way the commission would allow him, The Number One Hero, to put off work for six consecutive months. And how come no one has reported they haven't seen Shouto in months. He knows he doesn’t have that wide of a social circle like most kids his age but surely someone must have noticed. Why hasn't anyone come to save him? What lies has his father been feeding everyone?

“Why–why would you do this?” Shouto asked dumbfounded because how deranged of a person do you have to be to brainwash your own child?! He knew his father was a bad man but this… The man may have truly lost his mind.

 His father simply answered, voice smooth and unperturbed, “It was for your own good.” 

“My own good?” The boy scoffed, “ How could stripping away my autonomy be for my own good! How could making me a prisoner of my own mind be good for me?! Huh? How dad! How could that ever be good for me!” his voice steadily rose with each remark until he was shouting at his father though the man remained unfazed. His expressionless face was beginning to piss Shouto off.

“You wouldn’t have stayed any other way.” Nothing about the man’s body language showed a hint of remorse. He doesn’t care what Shouto wants. He never has.

“Of course I wouldn’t! I never wanted to be here! You knew I wanted to go back to UA. Just how long did you plan on keeping me here!” Shouto screamed, before going quiet as a chilling thought crossed his mind. “If I hadn't caught on would you have ever let me go back?” 

“...” 

“Answer me dammit!” He was met with the silence, his fathers slack face and seemingly bored expression was enough of an answer. 

“You never changed, you're still the same controlling bastard you've always been. I was a fool to ever believe in you.” Tears of frustration welled up in heterochromatic eyes. Everything felt so big and out of his control. If he doesn't get his emotions under control soon he may slip back into his headspace. It’s game over if that happens. 

“My my you’re being quite fussy, you'll upset your stomach at this rate. We can have a talk after you've calmed down and had your nap. You'll feel better once you've slept a bit.” His father's face softened and voice returned to a gentle coo. It was like he could sense he was slipping and was trying to push him over the edge. 

Both sides of the boy lit up with flames and frost as he yelled. “Stop it! Stop with your wretched coddling! Stop acting like I’m a child! I've had enough! You can’t take away the life I've built just because you want a chance to right your wrongs. What's done is done, you can't change the past! You can't change me, I won't allow it! I don’t care if I have to fight you, I'm leaving!”  

“Shouto please you can’t go you're too li– ”

“Shut up!” he screamed, shooting spikes of ice towards his father knocking him off his feet. Encasing him in ice up to his nose leaving only enough space to breathe before kicking him in the head effectively knocking him out. He hurried out the bedroom encasing every door and corridor in ice on his way out to buy as much time as he could. He ran, wasting no time in changing out of his pajamas, only slipping on his shoes and running out of the house. He needed to find his mother.

•❅──────✧❅🕯❅✧──────❅•

The treatment really was working. He had been skeptical of the method at first but it truly was a miracle. Shouto will be the key to bringing his family back together. Soon his little boy will be reborn into the perfect baby, happy to be loved and cherished forever. If all things go according to plan he’ll have his family back in his pocket and a little one to adore. He'll have to call Kiego back later to thank him for all his help.

In the meantime he spent his time methodically melting the ice and cleaning up the place at a leisurely pace giving his son some time to run before he properly hunts him down. This is all a lesson for his own good afterall. If Enji really wanted to, he could have ended the fight the moment he entered the room by activating his conditioning but he didn't. Shouto needs to learn that he can never run from his father, on his own. He needs his spirit to be broken so no further attempts to distance himself from Enji can be made. Afterall Enji is only doing what's best for him. He just wants to care for his baby and love him like he never had before.

It took him seeing Shouto lying comatose in a hospital bed too big for him to realize the truth. He never wants to see his son on the battlefield ever again. He never wants to see him in hero garb fighting for his life or using that wretched quirk again. The future he had planned for him and the method of his creation had all been a mistake. Hero work wasn't safe for his baby. Because that's what Shouto is, his youngest baby. And he needs to protect him now unlike how he failed in the past. If only the boy would stop trying to run away.

Well if this is how the boy wants to play then Enji is happy to play along. He kept on his damp clothes even tearing them up in some places and finished applying his makeup before slipping on his house slippers before walking out the door. 

He hopes Shouto understands that he will never have another chance to run so he better get all that energy out of him now and realize he’ll never be able to escape his Daddy.

✧❅🕯❅✧

Shouto sniffed in his seat quietly letting out the last of his sobs as he watched the scenery rapidly change through the train's window. He felt the adrenaline from the altercation with his father slowly fading away leaving him tired and drained. He wiped away his tears with a handkerchief a kind old lady had given him two stops ago. It was pink with fluffy little bunnies hopping along the border. He wishes he were a little bunny, free to run and play with his bunny friends and be with his bunny family without a terrifying wolf constantly looming over them. 

The train car jostled, signaling it was coming to a stop. He shook off the childish train of thought and fuzziness beginning to creep into his mind. His mind was slipping but he couldn’t afford to lose focus now, he had to go see his mother. He walked out into the crowded station making his way towards the steps leading up to the exit. The hospital his mother is staying in is only a thirty minute walk from the station. If he runs he can get there in ten. He makes his way through the sea of people not caring who he was bumping into or listening to them cry out after him. He didn’t notice a familiar head of green hair looking his way. 

The run to the clinic wasn't a long one but it felt unbearable. He hasn't exercised in such a long time. His lungs were burning, his throat ached thirsting for water, and his legs were already cramping. Usually a little run like this would be a breeze but thanks to his father’s constant babying he’s hardly walked in months let alone ran. By the time he made it to the hospital he was panting and dripping with sweat. “I definitely did not make it here in ten minutes. I’ll need to work extra hard to get back into shape once I get back in school”, he huffed in thought as he pushed open the door leaning on it to catch his breath for a minute before walking up to the service desk. 

An emotion Shouto can’t quite discern flickered over the nurse’s face for a moment as she took in his appearance before returning to a polite smile. “Hello there, how can I help you?” 

“I need to see my mother, her name is Todoroki Rei. The matter is urgent. If you could give me clearance quickly it would be very much appreciated.” he said through harsh breaths, cheeks flush from physical exertion. 

“Alright, one second let me pull up your records. Your name is?”

“Todoroki Shouto.” 

“Alrighty…hmm,” the nurse's brows furrowed, staring at the computer screen before asking. “Would you mind answering some quick questions for me first Todoroki-kun? 

“Please keep it brief. I need to see my mother,” Shouto answered tersely. He had no time to waste who knows how long his father will stay unconscious. He needs to act fast.

“Alright now what is the reason for your visit?”

“I need to speak to my mother regarding my schooling and father’s behavior.” That’s putting it briefly. He needs to tell her how that man had been brainwashing him and keeping him prisoner for months now. And to apply for custody and get him out or tell Fuyumi or Natsuo to try. He doesn’t care who it is, living with any of them would be better than his Father.

“And how did you get here? Did you come here all by yourself?” 

“Yes I took the train.” Do they ask everyone their mode of transportation when visiting?

“Alright and does anyone know that you're here right now?”

“No. Are we done yet? Can I go see my mother now?” He knows hasn’t visited in a while but these questions seem odd. 

“Sorry sweetie, just one more question, okay?” 

“Fine,” the boy snapped, beginning to feel irritated. While he knows this particular hospital typically  is for high profile patients usually heroes, celebrities, politicians and their families alike. He’s never been interrogated like this. Usually they just ask for his name, check his file, and let him through. He’s never had this much trouble before.

“You said there was an issue with your father, who is listed as your primary guardian. What is it?”

“He’s been acting insane. He locks me away in our home and won’t let me go to school. He keeps treating me like a child and won’t listen to me when I tell him to stop. He’s awful. I want to come live with my mom instead.” Why is she looking at him like that? Oh…oh no. He knows that look. She's looking at him the same way his father does, like he’s helpless and in need of protection. 

“Oh honey but you are a child and judging from your file a very sick one who's been through a lot. How about we call up your Daddy and see what he has to say about all this okay?” The nurse's tone was both condescending and sickeningly sweet just like his father. Dammit she’s not taking him seriously.

“No! You can’t call him! He’s crazy, he’ll lock me back up again!” Shouto begged her to listen. “Please, I don't want him to come get me.”

“It's alright honey, I'm just going to make a quick call. Have a seat in the meanwhile.” No. He can’t just wait here to be caught. If the nurse didn’t believe him, maybe the police would. He’ll just have to take that chance. 

Shouto ran to the exit and pushed the doors but no matter how hard he tried they would not open. They had been locked remotely. He looked back to see the nurse eyeing him sympathetically before tapping her headset and saying. “Hey I got a child of a patient expressing very concerning behavior. His file contains multiple illnesses and injuries within the last year. [It states the patient is incompetent, experiences PTSD, Delusions, Paranoia, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Panic Disorder, Depression, Antisocial Personality Disorder, etc] It states that the child is both a danger to himself and others and is in constant need of supervision. He’s down here alone showing signs of delusion. I need security down here now to help restrain him while I call up his family.”

“No please you don’t understand. If he catches me, I’ll never see the light of day again.” Shouto pleaded but all the nurse did was put a finger up to her mouth and made a light shushing noise at him as she dialed the number into the phone. 

He tried to use his ice to weaken the doors but for some reason his frost would not stick, it would slip right off the door. The windows wouldn’t shatter either; they were both likely quirk proof. He could start a fire and force the staff to evacuate everyone and escape during the chaos. But it felt wrong to cause stress to already sick patients staying in the hospital, especially when his mother is one of them. 

Lost in thoughts of escape he didn’t notice the security guards barreling towards him until he felt strong hands locking around his waist pulling him away from the exit. He struggled and fought against the burly man's hold, kicking and screaming "Let me go!”. But the man held him still, sitting down on one of the chairs and folded him onto his lap while another guard forced Shouto’s arms behind his back and wrapped quirk restraints around his wrists and another set on his ankles. Then sat him on his own chair to wait for his father, each still keeping a firm grip on one of his arms. 

Soon enough his father was bursting through the clinic's doors eyes scanning the waiting room before zeroing in on him. He looked like he had been beaten and dragged through a storm. His clothes were damp and ragged, likely from breaking himself out of the ice though that didn't explain the injuries. Where did he get that black eye and busted lip from? Shouto certainly hadn’t given it to him. He struggled against his bonds harder as he walked towards him, picking him up and quietly thanking the guards. 

He tried to buck out of his hold but the look his father shot at him sent shivers up his spine and made him go still. That look promised hell when they went back home. He’s known that look since childhood it meant ‘behave while we're in public or I’ll make you wish you were dead. He stayed quiet as his father followed the nurse he was speaking with earlier to a private office. The paper crinkled underneath him as he was placed in the treatment chair, his father sat across from him on a waiting chair, while the nurse sat on her desk turning on the monitor..

“Thank you so much for calling me. I’ve been looking everywhere for him.” He heard his father tell the nurse. He couldn't believe she couldn't see the smug satisfaction radiating off the man under the overly fake concerned look on his face. 

“Your welcome, I noticed the changes in his chart and knew he was not supposed to be here on his own. He ended up making quite the scene trying to leave before you arrived and had to be retrained for his own safety.” What? What changes is she talking about? He shifted to glance at the monitor but couldn't quite move the way he wanted in the restraints.

“I am so sorry about him, we had an argument this morning and he got a bit violent. He knocked me straight off my feet. I must've hit my head on the way down because when I woke up hours later, he was gone. I’ve been running all over the city looking for him.” Enji said, putting a hand behind his neck as if he were embarrassed. In his pajamas with messy hair and bags under his eyes. The man looked like nothing more than a disgruntled dad. The nurse was already eating the act up and eyeing him with pity as if Shouto was the real problem here, not his father. 

“Oh how terrible! Does he usually have violent outbursts?” 

“He does but it’s not his fault. The commission should have never allowed the students to help aid in battle. His brain suffered serious damage from the fight that will affect him for the rest of his life. Ever since he’s been having trouble taking in his surroundings and remembering that he's no longer fighting. He has no way to distinguish reality from his delusions and often confuses myself and others for villains.” Enji spoke gravely, eyes glistening as if what he was saying were true. 

“Stop lying! I’m not crazy! He’s lying! Tell her the truth!” Shouto’s shouting was ignored; they spoke over him like he wasn’t even there. 

“Oh dear, that is very concerning. Is he currently being treated for these issues? Why isn’t she listening? Why can’t she see he’s lying?

“Yes, he’s currently out of school to be treated.” His father answered, sounding exhausted. 

“He mentioned something about needing to see his mother and his schooling.” 

“Yes he has a certain delusion where he believes his mother is in danger and only he can save her. He most likely–”

“Stop it! Tell the truth! Tell her! Say it you damn liar!” He felt like he was going to burst a blood vessel as he screamed. Why is no one listening to him? Why does no one else ever see the man for what he truly is? A monster, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Why can no one ever see past the word hero?

“Oh no the poor dear is becoming quite hysterical, would you like me to administer a mild sedative to quiet him down?” 

“That would be great, thank you.” His father answered with a bone tired sigh, that even he would believe if he didn’t see the corners of his lips quirking up as the nurse turned around to prepare the medication. 

“Alright it’ll just feel like a little pinch. I’m sure a big boy like you can handle that right?”

“No stop please! I don’t want that!” He flinched as he felt the needle piercing his skin. 

“There there, you’ll start feeling better in a minute sweetheart.”

“N-nothing w-rong…wi’t me.” Shouto slurred, trying his best to stay awake. Who knows what else his father may start lying about. 

“One more thing I’d like to touch on before you leave today is his quirk usage. We noticed in an attempt to escape he tried to use his quirk on multiple occasions against the facility's doors and windows. Thankfully they are reinforced with quirk suppressing technology and we had cuffs on hand for particularly powerful patients but it would have been a very difficult situation if we didn't.  Controlling his power output would be very helpful to prevent more accidents like this one from occurring. Modern suppressants are fairly low risk and come in chewable tablets for children or neck cuff form. I would really recommend them for your son.” 

“No…no mor’..m-med’cin’...” Ignored once again. They were treating him like he was a pet that was too dumb to comprehend the conversation so they didn't bother trying to speak with him. Will everyone treat him like this? As soon as he speaks out against his father will they turn against him and treat him like a dumb pet too? “Will anyone ever believe him?”

“I’ll take both. I've been trying to get him on suppressants for a while now but his primary doctor kept insisting his behavior didn’t warrant them. Thank you so much for listening to me.” Why do they always listen to him?

“Of course! I just have to take off these cuffs now and switch them out for his necklace and he should be good to go.” Shouto tried to move once he felt the cuffs being removed but his body felt like it was full of lead, everything felt so heavy he could hardly wriggle his toes let alone lift an arm. He couldn’t fight against the sleek metal collar being placed around his neck clicking into place in a way he knew meant it had been locked.

“I’ll send over that prescription to your nearest pharmacy and they should call you when it's ready to be picked up. If that's all you can go ahead and take him home. Have a good day!”

“Thank you so much for your help. We’ll be off now.” Enji carried the limp boy out of the room walking through the halls towards the exit quite pleased with himself.

“H-he’ crazy…don’t wan’a go! D-don’ let..h’m…take m-me!” Shouto slurred one last call before the doors closed. Urging someone, anyone to help him, to come save him. As usual his call was ignored as it had been his entire life. 

“They won’t believe you Shouto. Do you want to know why? Because who would ever believe a sick little boy over the Number One Hero? It’s your word against mine. And your word means nothing . It never has and it never will.” Enji whispered into his ear, shushing his son softly as he began to cry. Soft cries turned into wails as he slipped into headspace. 

“Oh baby mine don't you cry. Daddy loves you so much.” His father cooed, patting him gently on the back while rocking him side to side. To everyone else in the hospital he just seemed like a caring father doting on his poor sick son, none of them could see the unhinged glint in his eye or hear the crazed tone of obsession in his voice. “We'll be going home soon.” The place where you will stay once and for all.

✧❅🕯❅✧

Omakes

-Izuku spotting Shouto's hair in the crowd: Now wait a damn minute🤨

Shouto running away: I am speed 💨

-Enji to Shouto this entire fic: Gaslight💋, Gatekeep✨, Girlboss💅

-Enji: I will never ever hurt you again~𖹭

Also Enji: No one will ever believe you because no one cares about you or what you have to say.

Shouto: Guess he just meant physically🫤

[lainiespicewrites]

I Just want to feel safe Part 2

Okay this took me literal weeks! And I’m sorry! But I’m happy with how this turned out I think. Here is part 2 of my Walter Fic! Again this has kind of become an SVU crossover and I’m not sorry 😂

Let me know what you think ❤️

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, cursing

Also there’s a POV switch because I wanted to try something new.

I own all of my mistakes here! I’m sure it’s not perfect but it’s mine.❤️❤️

Part 1:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I woke up in the morning the detective was back in his office. He looked up from his computer when he heard me stop in the doorway.

“Good morning,” He spoke softly, offering me a warm smile as continued sifting through some case notes.

“Hi,” I said shyly, a little unsure about this situation now that I was of sound mind. Still he was warm and welcoming in his demeanor. Despite all that had happened.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, taking a moment to think about how to answer. It shouldn’t be a difficult question. But the last few weeks, everything seemed to feel that way. It all felt heavy and difficult to navigate. Although I wasn’t looking for more pity from this man I gave him an honest answer.

“I slept, which is more than I can say for the last few nights.” His lips quivered into a sad smile and he nodded.

“I thought about something this morning,” He said as he pulled open one of his desk drawers and started rummaging through it. “I’m not sure if you’ve considered it or if it’s something you’re already doing..” He said as he continued to search through the drawer. Finally he found what he was looking for, a business card of some kind. He took it out of the drawer and held it out for me to take. I entered his office and took the card hesitantly. I waited for him to speak again before I looked at it. “We’re given a lot of resources in the police department. And although I didn’t have much luck with her, it was mainly my own fault. I’m terribly stubborn I suppose,” He chuckled awkwardly trying to reign in his rambling. “I hear she’s an excellent therapist. She’s very kind.” I nodded. I examined the card. It gave the therapist's name and hours. The address and the phone number. I bit my lip contemplating again. He just shared something personal with me. Indirectly, albeit, but still. He didn’t have to tell me he’d been to therapy himself. But at the same time, I had tried it too. But I never felt comfortable opening up. It never worked. He wanted to help. And I had to face the fact that tonight I had to go home. And be alone again. I couldn’t keep staying with him. This was strange enough as it was.

“Thank you,” I said finally. It was the only thing I could say. “I’ll keep this in mind. I appreciate all you’ve done and all you’re doing for me. Detective Marshall.”

“It’s my job,” He said softly. But that was it. I mean, was taking a distressed victim home with him part of his job? Or was there something about me that made him want to help? Or am I losing my mind and catching feelings for the first person who made me feel better. I shook my head. I was losing it. I was sleep deprived and overwhelmed and we were truthfully just getting started. I needed to get a grip.

“Yeah,” was all I said in response. He let out a short breath and stood up.

“We should get to the station. Get things rolling,” He said. I nodded and followed him as we exited his house and got into his truck.

The ride to the station was mostly quiet. But there was one burning question I couldn’t keep to myself. “Once I give you my statement, will you … will you have enough to arrest him?” I asked. Walter was quiet for a moment but his grip on the steering wheel got tighter. There was a tick in his Jaw as he thought about what to say. I suppose that was all the answer I really needed.

“It could be,” He said plainly. “However,” he added, his voice a little more pained. “With as long as it’s been and with the lack of evidence, we’ll likely have to do a more thorough investigation before we can send your case to the prosecutor, in order for them to send us the okay for the arrest.” My heart dropped.

“So you’re saying there’s a chance you won’t even be allowed to charge him?” I couldn’t help the urgency in my voice. That’s not what he said. “You said you put people away on less!” I cried. “I change my mind, I don't.. I don’t wanna do this!” I was panicking. I wasn’t worth it. I knew it wasn’t. Reliving telling this. And how many more times would I have to do it. And what if it’s for nothing. Walter stopped the truck pulling over on the side of the road. He sighed. Leaning his head back against the headrest and then turning to me.

“Alayna, this isn’t hopeless, I need you to trust me. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I wasn’t sure I could help you. I have put men like him away with just a witness statement. It’s just not easy to convince the court to let us move off of something so…” he paused trying to find the right word.

“Weak?” I spoke.

“That’s not what I was going to say.” He said softly, he reached for my hand gently putting his hand over mine before tentatively lacing our fingers together. He sighed again. He was frustrated, not so much at me, just that he was also stuck. Bound by the system to do things by the book. He ran his other hand through his hair and let it fall to his lap. “My job is to keep you safe. Beyond that, I want to keep you safe. I want to help you. I’m not going to let them sweep you under the rug. I’ve seen how this affected you. How it still affects you. I can’t force you to report this. But I can tell you that if you ask me to take you home right now. I’m going to lose even more sleep tonight worrying about you than I would if I were working your case.”

“What happens if they refuse the charges?” I asked meekly, staring at the floor. I felt him squeeze my hand.

“I promise you, he’ll never touch you again. I’ll keep you safe.” He said. I looked up at him. Meeting his eyes. They were darker. Something fierce. I was going to ask another question. I was going to ask how he could possibly know that. How he could be so sure. Why would he promise something like that? But looking in his eyes. I knew. He wasn’t going to let the prosecutor deny the charges. He was going to fight for me.

“I’ll go.” I said finally. His face softened and I felt his thumb brush over the back of my hand before he pulled away from me and veered the truck back onto the road. The rest of the drive was quiet. But there was less tension now then there had been.

At the station, Walter took me into a room where they interviewed the witnesses. This was nothing like what I was used to on TV. It wasn’t a dark, dingy interrogation. It was warm, comfortable, and bright. There was a couch along the wall. I sat there and watched him as he sat across from me in a chair and explained the process.

I probably should’ve paid better attention to what he was saying. But I couldn’t. It’s why I was confused when he set a tape recorder on the coffee table. He must’ve read the look on my face because he gave me a gentle smile and said.

“To record your statement for the prosecutor's office I may have to ask you a few questions as well. And then you’ll write it.” He explained. Likely repeating himself. I nodded.

“And then I’m done?” I asked desperately. He nodded.

“Then you’re done. If it were recent we’d collect any evidence and take you to the hospital for an exam, but we don’t really have a reason to do that here. Just your statement is good enough.” I nodded and Walter pressed record, starting the interview.

The whole process took about 2 hours. Going over everything, carefully recalling each detail. Of course he had to ask questions. “If there were others in the house why didn’t you call for help?” It was like my brain was paralyzed. I was just going through muscle memory, going through the motions. I couldn’t do anything. “Why did it take you so long to report your assault?” At first I wasn’t sure it was assault. I didn’t want to believe that he would do that to me. But the more I replayed it in my head and when I finally told someone what happened. I came to terms with it. But by that point I was scared. I had nothing. It wouldn’t matter. I convinced myself it wouldn’t matter.

I thought it would be hard to write it all down. To see it all on paper. But even when he asked me to read through it and confirm that it was all true, it didn’t hurt like I expected. Maybe doing this, finally giving myself a sense of justice was the peace that I needed. Maybe, I just needed to speak it outloud to someone who could really listen. So I wasn’t the only one carrying it. Or maybe it was him. Maybe it was how soft his voice was. The way he was looking at me. What he had said in the truck. Was this what it felt like to actually trust someone? But he was a police officer. He was just doing his job. I had heard of this before. Women falling in love with their therapists, or the firemen who pulled them out of a burning building. Whatever I believed was here couldn’t be real.

I avoided his eyes as I put the pen down. I had signed the statement making it all official. He reached across the table taking the paper and tucking it away into my casefile.

“I’ll get this scanned and submitted to the courts right away, unfortunately this is the part where we hurry up and wait.” I nodded.

“So, what do I do now?” I was exhausted, my voice was weak and tired. Walter sighed and rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Now, I’m going to take you home, and try to get some rest, and leave the hard part to me, as soon as I know anything I’ll contact you.” He said. I nodded. Out of all the things I had to do today. This was the part I dreaded most. Being alone again. But it was inevitable.

When we arrived at my building Detective Marshall offered to walk me inside. But I just shook my head and gave him a weak smile. I didn’t want to bother him any longer. I had to learn how to survive again. Hopefully this will all be over soon.

WALTERS POV

I waited until I watched her walk into the building. If I’m honest, I sat in that parking lot for another 20 minutes, watching the door and checking the perimeter of the building. I promised I’d keep her safe. I intended to keep that promise.

When I finally headed back to the station I checked I.T. to make sure her paperwork had been faxed to the prosecutor. I hate this part. I’ve worked cases where people try to take the law into their own hands. And while I still continue to follow through with direct orders and let the system put people to justice. I could see why others take matters into their own hands. I sat in my office, loading her file on my computer. Reading through it all. I see this everyday. I track down killers, rapists, abusers, every single day. But she’s stuck in my head. The knock on my door takes my focus from the screen. I lifted my eyes to see who was at my office. Rachel.

“Hi,” she spoke softly. She had that sympathetic smile on her face like she was reading my mind before I even spoke.

“Did you need something?” I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow.

“I just wanted to check in with you, and see how everything went with the girl that came in to report last night?” she asked, her eyes big and hopeful. Rachel is an incredibly kind person. But she is also incredibly curious and stubborn.

“Just finished up this morning.” I said blankly. Hoping she would take it and leave. I know better.

“You got her to talk to you, good. I was worried about her. I noticed, uhm that, she came in with you today,” she raised an eyebrow accusingly. I let out a sigh running a hand over my beard. I locked eyes with her. I’d already beat myself up for taking this girl home with me last night. I’d gone against the code of conduct to help her feel safe. What did she want me to say?

“You seem to know everything already, why don’t you tell me what’s going on then. Since you’ve got me all figured out here.” I nodded to her, pursing my lips into a tight scowl. I didn’t need her psychoanalysis to tell me I’d fucked up. I knew that.

Her arms were crossed now as she leaned against the door frame looking me over carefully.

“Did you drive her home last night?” I let out a sharp laugh.

“It was freezing outside, she walked here. Yes. I took her home.” I replied. Not fully a lie. We did stop there. “Are you done?” I asked her “I have a lot to get done today and I’m waiting to hear from the prosecutor,”

“Walter,” She sighed, stepping into my office and sitting in front of me. The same place Alayna had sat last night. “Did she go home with you? It’s typical for victims to make…” she paused trying to find the right word. “Advances, toward men they see as protectors.” My brow creased my eyes zeroing in on her as I stopped her.

“You think I had sex with her?” I snap “That girl is afraid of her own shadow, you saw her. How long had you been talking to her? Trying to get her to open up before I came in? Yes, I finally got her to talk. And she was extremely shaken up. I took her home, but she looked so scared. Afraid to be alone. I don’t know why I did it. I could’ve … I should have sent her into her building and called an officer to sit and keep watch for the night.”

“But you didn’t, you let her go back to your house. Why?” She pressed. I groaned, frustrated.

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“Nothing happened?” She asked.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” I growled. Her eyes went wide and she held up her hands in defense.

“Okay, just be more careful, something like this could have the head of the department on your ass and I can’t cover for you,” she said. I rolled my eyes, looking back at the screen.

“I didn’t ask you to,” I mumbled. She sighed and her shoulders slump, defeated. She stood to exit the office. Before she was completely out of ear shot she added.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” When I knew she was gone I leaned back in my chair letting my head fall back and let out a frustrated groan. Of all people she should understand I was just trying to help this girl.

I’m distracted by my office phone ringing. I picked it up immediately.

“SVU this is Captain Marshall,” I answered

“Marshall, this is Casey Novack, I just reviewed your case.” I gripped the phone tighter.

“And?” I encouraged her.

“You have no evidence here, what do you want me to do?” she explained.

“Let me arrest this guy, there’s enough detail in the statement to pull a confession, Casey. This victim’s been holding on to this for 2 year’s,” I argued.

“If I do that and he doesn’t confess this judge will have my ass Walt you know that, If this girl would’ve confessed sooner…”

“Casey, this isn’t a gamble. This happened. He’s guilty. I will get you that confession.” I barked, interrupting her.

“Legally?” I couldn’t see her face but I knew she had an eyebrow raised. “You’re a good cop Marshall, I’ll give you that. I don’t know what’s changed in you, I’ve never seen you fight so hard for the victim. It’s always about brute force with you. …Pick him up. Don’t make me regret this.” She said.

“You won’t,” I assured her.

It took me less than 2 hours to track him down. He wasn’t home. He wasn’t at work. Ironically, he was back in their hometown, with an old college buddy. Before I walked into the bar I stopped to call her. I told her I’d let her know when anything happened.

��Hello?” Her voice came through the phone soft and sleepy. I must’ve woken her up.

“Alayna, This is Detective Marshall.” I heard something shift in the background and her voice was more clear when she spoke.

“Detective, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” she said, I smiled softly.

“Yeah, well, the prosecutor is an old friend. I’m arresting him. He’ll be in custody soon. I thought you’d like to know.”

“Thank you,” Her voice was weak but I understood the sentiment. “I appreciate you calling. I guess. I’ll see you when I’m needed.” She added.

“You did an amazing job today, leave the rest up to me,” I soothed. I heard her sigh softly.

“Goodbye walter.” I could tell she was smiling.

“Goodbye Alayna.” I hung up the phone and walked into the bar. This piece of shit had no idea what was coming. His friend saw me first. He offered me a shot. When I turned him down, that's when he turned. I knew it was him. I recognized the pictures we’d found online for reference. But apart from that. She had described him so vividly. I would be able to recognize him anywhere. “Justin Veach?” I asked blankly, clearly unimpressed by their little charade.

“Yup,” He replied. “Since ‘89! How can I help you?” He asked smuggly, I didn’t give him a response. I pulled the cuffs from my belt.

“You’re under arrest for the rape and assault of Alayna Doyle.” I dragged him up by his arm slapping the cuff on one wrist. “You have the right to an attorney. Anything you say or do can be held against you in a court of law.” I continued reading him his rights as his friend followed us out of the building shouting not to say anything. And informing me that he went to law school. The officer that had followed me led Justin to the back of his car. His friend continued to shout but I ignored him. I nodded to the other officer, getting back in my truck and leading him back to the station. Now it was time for the fun part. Keeping my promise to Alayna. And to Casey. I had to get his confession. It was the only way to convince a judge to take the case. And now that he’s been accused. It was the only way I could assure Alayna I could protect her. Everything’s riding on this. Casey told me I was a good cop. I’d like to think that. But men like him… Will never get to see that side of me. It’s showtime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all for your support on this! I intend for part 3 to have a much quicker update! Thanks for you patience and love y’all ❤️🥰

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[peaches2217]

My first therapy appointment in several months went really well! I’m returning to the councilor I’ve had for a couple years now. I updated her on my transition journey because the last time I saw her was a couple weeks before I started on T; I told her about coming out to my dad last night, and how disappointing it was.

The ensuing conversation was both productive, and so fucking validating.

My recent depressive episode? Complicated by an event with a former friend, but set into motion, and dragged out for so long, because of the stress of what was to come. My voice has gotten too low to even PRETEND it’s just a holdover from being sick or part of allergies or what have you. I’ve known for the past month that the time to tell my dad was coming. The fear of his reaction and the consequences it could bring since I’m currently in a financially vulnerable place was killing me.

And as we talked, I figured out that the unpredictability is still my only real, big fear: my dad promised me he wouldn’t kick me out, but there’s that lingering fear that he could change his mind, and even if he doesn’t, he could start draining my paychecks — I told him my GAC, insurance copays and all, has been coming exclusively out of my pocket, so I get the sneaking suspicion he’s gonna take advantage of us sharing a bank account and deepen that financial dependency. And above all, I’m afraid of losing our relationship. I’m okay with him not accepting my identity so long as he doesn’t treat me any differently in spite of it. But if he starts pulling away or pushing me away or withholding love as punishment for following down a path he disapproves of, what then?

My counselor told me that, sad as it is, I can’t control how he chooses to react. But I have my mom and brother’s support, my girlfriend’s support, and an online community of friends; if I lose my relationship with him, that’s ultimately his decision and his loss, and no matter what he does, I won’t face it alone.

I had hoped that assuring him I felt God’s peace in my choices and that I’d spent years praying over the situation would at least sorta put him at ease, but all he did was infantilize and illegitimize my entire experience as guided by evil and selfishness. I can’t reason with him or come to a happy medium with him like I did with my mom. The faith he’s praised me for sticking close to he’s now decided is all lies and self-delusion simply because he doesn’t like the conclusions I’ve come to. Nothing I do will satisfy or convince him… so why waste energy trying?

I just have to live with his disappointment, and as much as it hurts, it’s also freeing. I’ve done all I can do. I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to live with the stress of what will happen once he knows, because for better or worse, he knows now. If he doesn’t like it, so be it. I’ve laid my cards down, and how things progress between us is entirely up to him. When I put aside my stress over our relationship, I feel nothing but confidence and happiness and certainty. If he thinks this is a mistake… well, he’s gotta let me make my mistakes. I spent 20+ years not doing anything for fear of what bad might happen, and that left me a suicidal wreck by age 18. I won’t sit by and let ominous warnings and premonitions hold me back any longer. It COULD be a mistake, or it COULD be the best decision I’ve ever made. How will I know if I freeze up in fear?

My counselor noted several times that I look, sound, and act more confident than she’s ever seen from me. Without the pressure of keeping secrets, I’m able to more easily sort between what thoughts are mind and what thoughts my dad, my trauma, or both have planted in my head. I can say with my whole chest that I feel I’m going in the right direction. I can even say “Fuck it, my dad’s approval or disapproval is on him, not me” with greater conviction. I’m acting on things I’ve wanted from the moment we first spoke, and she says the positive change it’s made radiates off of me. She said she’s extremely proud of the progress I’ve made.

I’ll be seeing her again next week, then dropping down to seeing her every other week. In spite of how relatively poorly last night went, I feel empowered. God I’m so glad to be back.

[frozenjokes]

Hey, I binged read your cubscar(ian) hotguy au

And I LOVED it,

Cub's characterization is so precious, he's so autistic to me (I'm autistic so I kin heavily) the way you write him, chef's kiss and all that. Is Cub Demi? xx

Scar is so strong and yet so broken but he doesn't know it yet, I'm so glad he's in therapy now <3. I love that you wrote him this way, he's disabled (just like me) but he's not a child, he's whimsy but so life smart, I value so much when authors write him like this and his plurality is very relatable <3. And his friendship with Mumbo <3

Grian, well he's just so real, his need for a job ever tho Cub was happy looking out for him <3, his friendship just reconnecting with Mumbo so easily, warmth. I love how self aware he is, and the angst you wrote for him is heart strings shattering I loved.

Cub and Grian's relationship ahhhhh yessss. The commitment and devotion, how they are so connected they didn't notice it sliding from platonic to romantic. This just IS for me.

Cub and Scar, well (yes again 🤣) they are so sweet, and Cub holds 51% of the cards lol but Scar's 49% is really doing things for Cub wink wink. Some of the reasoning behind Cub's love is being loved. And Scar loving him because of his round edges and softness 🥹

Scar and Grian. I hope the flowers he got for them were poppies and lilacs /lh /nf; Scar's fear because of his sharp edges, Scar in other works has his weakness but he can always find in in himself to want to protect Grian almost as a superior?, but you write Scar so vulnerable and equal to Grian. They are enemies to frenemies to ... But really it's caused by the lack of knowing, eachother and their personal experiences. Again Scar and his plural view of people <3 I think Grian thought of Scar as stronger emotionally, physically, mentally then Scar ever was, and Grian used him because of this misconception. I'm glad they're getting there, truly. Did Grian feel dejected? when Scar didn't help with his wings? Angst <3

thank you!!! Cub could be Demi. So could Grian! They can be whatever your heart desires. Personally I don’t care to label any of them because it isn’t very important to me. I do think Cub would refer to both Scar and Grian has his friends even after years of being together and it drives Scar absolutely nuts. Why are you doing that. What do you Mean. Cub it’s been twenty years you can introduce me as your boyfriend I Promise no one here is going to judge you and cub just goes: ? oh right. and then he never does that. the word friend just comes easier. it’s cozy.

It’s very silly to me you pointed out scar’s friendship with Mumbo because they are not friends scar is Coping. /silly. I actually forget very often I write a lot of angst of these characters because that’s just not really how my brain categorizes turmoil. It’s always a jumpscare to see it pointed out /light hearted, joking. funniest instance of this happening 🔽

(from chapter two of the Jimmy decked out fic)

I was on call with a friend while reading this for the first time and for the life of me I Could Not think of what /nf meant and he didn’t know either so we came up with some ideas: NOT FUNNY. no fingers. non fungible. nut fart. NO FUN. no friends. Nice feet. never forget. nice flowers. new friend! NOT FAIR

it means not forced. we had to look it up LMAO /silly silly silly. thank you for the laughs

Grian thought of scar as a piece of shit self absorbed celebrity and this is true however it’s not everything. inside is a deeply, deeply, extremely deeply, unimaginably kicked puppy. he’s sad and pathetic and has big wet eyes. also he cares.

Grian wasn’t too affected by Scar’s not wanting to touch his wings, and in general the experience was a little more overwhelmingly confusing? Neither he nor Cub expected him to have such a strong reaction, especially when things between all three of them are getting better, but Scar is still carrying the weight of a lot of Grian’s poor treatment of him for weeks on end, and even though Scar’s forgiven him and understands where he was coming from, those aren’t things you can just brush off, especially when many of Grian’s gestures (good and bad) are sweeping and intense and unpredictable, and people pleasing for someone as unstable as that (less so now, but before it was bad) is Extremely Stressful. dealing with cuteguy (evil version) for months beforehand Did Not Help. there’s a reason Scar views Grian as Sharp and that’s because they have both beat the piss out of each other hundreds of times.

To a point Grian is aware of this. It’s a thing he’s discussed in therapy a thousand times, and something he had to confront directly with Jimmy. In his eyes, his friendship with Scar (despite blunders on both sides) is an act of Scar’s good will towards him as given with Scar’s forgiveness, and if Scar is having problems, then it’s not really something Grian can hold against him. Obviously that doesn’t stop feelings from being hurt, but this was more a result of The Panic Attack than the wing touching refusal. Which Grian dealt with by Pushing Minigolf Pushing Pushing Pushing Pushing. Grian’s reaction to guilt and/or rejection is I NEED TO MAKE UP FOR THIS RIGHT MEOW!!!!! and in doing so often fails miserably to read the room, which is why Cub steps in in that particular instance.

as far as wings though, if I were Grian, scar would be The Last Person I want touching them. Clumsiest motherfucker alive who in the case of this au, tends to be rougher with his affection because he literally can not tell what is too little or too much. Having someone nervous at your back probably isn’t a great feeling either, and for an activity that’s supposed to be relaxing, Cub brings a Much steadier aura. Cub also has the capacity to focus. Scar would probably need at least three other sources of stimulation to do a good job. And it would still hurt. Regular wing grooming is not supposed to hurt 💔

my rambling service comes free, well, perhaps at a small cost of a seemingly benign question. normal about her ocs frozenjokes back at it again

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Crutches and Crushes

Chapter Three of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Four

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.9K

TW: Unhealthy relationship and mentions of cocaine

Chapter Overview: You run into Frankie while you are out shopping.

Notes: Hey everyone ! I love that I'm still going to say no set posting schedule even though I have been consistent in my posting schedule. I just don't want to give a day and then miss it and blah blah blah. ANYWAY I'm absolutely beside myself that people wanted to be on the tag list for this series (i could cry) so thank you to the people that are investing time into this just like me (: my asks are always open if you want to chat about this series in particular or literally anything else !! happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

With a whole week of work at Brass Knuckles now officially under your belt, your dad wanted to celebrate. He called you and asked if you would come and eat lunch with him on Sunday afternoon. You knew that this meant you would be the one selected to go pick up and pay for lunch at some restaurant, but it was the fact that he remembered in the first place. Your dad was the kind of man that remembered globally recognized celebratory events: Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Thanksgiving. However, he struggled a bit with remembering ones that hit closer to home: your birthday, his own wedding anniversary, and any school function you had. You knew that he never did this with any malice or bad intentions, that wasn’t in his nature, but that didn’t ever numb the pain when it inevitably happened. 

“Did you really have to get me a salad?” 

You already knew that he was going to ask this. “Yes, I did.”

“Well could you have at least ordered me one that is topped with fried chicken and not this skinless bitch chicken.”

“Fried meats are one of the main foods that you have to avoid because of your diabetes,” You narrow your eyes at him. “So eat your ‘bitch chicken’ and be happy.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry, Sweet Pea. Thank you for bringing the food and for putting up with me.” 

“Of course, dad, but speaking of putting up with you…how has your physical therapy been going with Miss. Maggie?”

“I have my good days and my bad days. I actually managed to hold myself up on the uhh…what’s that thing called again? The one that has those horizontal poles on either side of me?”

“The parallel bars?”

“Yeah!” He snaps his fingers together. “I managed to hold myself up on the parallel bars, but I used all my strength focusing on not falling over which meant that I didn’t have much left in me when it came time to try taking a step.”

“I’m still really proud of you! Doing everything that you’re doing isn’t easy. All that anyone can ask is that you take it day by day and to try your best.”

“When did you grow up and get so smart?” His voice sounds airy. 

“When you blinked.”

“Is that so? Okay, smarty pants, what’s the first thing that I’m going to do when I can walk on my own again?”

You lean back in your seat and ponder his question. It wouldn’t have anything to do with playing cards, since he has that poker tournament every Sunday evening. It wouldn’t be going on a date, although you suspect he might have a little thing for Miss. Maggie. As you rack your brain for the answer a car fires up its engine in the retirement home parking lot. Got it.

“The first thing that you’re going to do when you can walk on your own is go to a car show. Then after you’re done, you’ll probably go get the greasiest burger you can get your hands on just to spite me.” 

“Fuckin’ hell. You got me all figured out.” 

“How about this? We go to the car show together, but skip the burgers.”

“Or we go to the car show together, skip the burgers, and get a basket of fries instead?”

You know when you're in the middle of a losing argument. A frustrated sigh comes from you as you nod your head at his counter-proposal. 

“Deal, dad.” 

***

You should have known this was a bad idea. You should have turned your car around the moment you saw how packed the parking lot was. Days like today were the reason why online shopping and curbside delivery were invented. Unfortunately for you, you had no better way to spend the afternoon of your day off than braving the hectic crowds of IKEA. Your desperate need for items inside the store outweighed your hesitation to go inside. You have only just grabbed a basket when your phone starts ringing.

“Thank fucking god you called, Robbie. I just got into IKEA and I need someone to talk to so I don’t get completely overwhelmed here.” 

You spend the next 45 minutes wandering in and out of different furniture sections while filling Robbie in about your new job and friends. You tell her about Benny and how he has become your closest friend so far down here. She audibly gags when you mention Brunson and how he acted when you first met him. Although you reassure her that Benny stepped in and shut him down, she still has a few choice words that you hope the family standing next to you can’t hear through the phone. 

By the time you finally bring up Will, Pope, and Frankie your basket is quite full. You found all the kitchenware you needed: pots and pans, cups, plates, bowls, utensils, etc. Then for your room you got a nightstand, a dresser drawer, a lamp, decorative throw pillows, and a full length mirror to hang on your closet door. You wrote down the item numbers for some of the items that are too big to cart around, kitchen table and chairs and a couch, so you could order them on a later date. 

“So, Santiago is Pope, Will is Ironhead, Frankie is Catfish, and Benny is…just Benny?” 

“It’s weird, I know.” You laugh. “They’re all really sweet, but Frankie is by far the most attractive one in the group.” 

“What did I fucking say?! I knew that you would have better luck finding a boyfriend in Florida than back home!”

“He’s not my boyfriend! I just think he’s cute, damn!”

“Tell me about him! I need a good mental image.”

“He’s a few inches taller than me, maybe 5’11? His hair curls at the end and is this beautiful brown which matches his eyes. Broad, and I mean broad, shoulders.” Robbie squeals on the other end of the phone. “Big nose and probably 10-15 years older than me?”

“I told you that you like ‘em older.”

You playfully roll your eyes at her comment as you walk into the section of the store that carries the bed frames.

“But I think you would really like Will. He’s tall, ruggedly handsome, has a sexy southern accent, and seems really smart.”

She’s quiet on the other end of the phone while you explain more about him to her. You love Robbie, but the men that she has dated in the past couldn’t match her on any level. She needed a partner that could challenge her intellectually and push her out of her comfort zone. Will is the kind of man that could do that for her. 

“Basically, what I’m trying to tell you is that you should date men that are actually men.”

“Well, it looks like I’ll have some homework to do when I come down next month for spring break.”

“Just give him a chance, that’s all I’m asking. Hey, I should probably go. I’ve already been here way longer than I intended and if I keep talking to you there's no telling when I’ll finish.” 

The two of you make plans to talk later and you hang up the phone. Now to find a bed frame and get the fuck out of here. You survey the room to see if anything catches your eye and something does. The only issue is that it's not a piece of furniture. Familiar curls peek out from underneath a black cap. He’s facing away from you which allows you to read the lettering on the back of his shirt.

B.K.B.G Sponsor of the Month

Tire Town Auto Body Repair Shop

When you first met Frankie, Benny had accidentally cut it short. You have been embarrassingly hung up on the fact that you didn’t get to talk to him the way you had with the other two men that evening. Now the universe has allowed you a second chance by placing him just a few feet away. You find yourself stuck in between feeling excitement and apprehension to approach him. Would he think you were weird if you came up and talked to him? Would he see you as Benny’s little receptionist and nothing more? These questions and countless more plague your mind as your feet guide you over to him. 

“Uhh…Frankie?”

He turns around and looks down at you with those enchanting eyes. The wrinkles that form around them when he smiles softly at you echo the photo you saw of him. The front of his shirt has ‘B.K.B.G Friday Fight Night’ written in a large font across his chest. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

You shily gesture to your very full basket. “Turns out that one of the many consequences of moving quickly is having to buy all new furniture because you didn’t have time to bring the stuff you already owned.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” he chuckles and scratches the nape of his neck. “That was a stupid question.” 

“No, no it wasn’t! At least I have a job now so I can pay for it all.”

“How is that going by the way? You just finished your first week, right?” 

You try to convince yourself that him remembering how long you had already been working at Brass Knuckles for wasn’t a big deal. He had come into the gym on Monday and since today is Sunday, a logical person could conclude that you had completed your first week. Try as you might, you couldn’t stop the balloon-like swelling you felt in your heart. 

“I did! It was pretty good, honestly. I feel like I’ve got the hang of everything I’m in charge of. Speaking of Brass Knuckles, I like your shirt.”

He looks down at the shirt he probably didn’t think twice about throwing on this morning. 

“You don’t have one of the fight night shirts yet? I think this is the one my job sponsored.” You laugh as he tries to look over his shoulder to read the back of the shirt.

“No, I haven’t been to the fights yet. You work at Tire Town Auto Body Shop?”

“For the time being.” His eyes drift away while he says. You can tell that there is more to the story than he is letting on.

“Well it’s comforting to know that you work there,” His gaze falls back on you. “I have the worst luck with cars so it’s only a matter of time before I’ll need to find a shop.”

“I hope nothing goes wrong with your car, but if it does, just bring it over to me and I’ll take care of everything for you. Wait, wait…did you say that you haven’t been to the fights?”

“In my defense I have only known about them for a week! Benny is the only one I know there, but he is either preparing the fighters or organizing the event as a whole. I would feel out of place if I went by myself.”

“Well now you know me and Will and Pope. Come with us.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he rests his hand on the edge of your cart. “It’s actually a pretty fun time. I would love it if you went with me- me and the guys.” You watch his fingers pick anxiously at a piece of tape on the end of one of your boxes.

“Sounds like a plan to me, Frankie.” 

Upon hearing you agree to go with him the corners of his lips curl into a smile. It’s so infectious that you find yourself beaming in the middle of the bustling store as well. His shyness makes you yearn to know what makes him tick. Makes you want to know how to coax that coveted smile out of him. Because maybe doing that will help you smile more as well. 

It looks like he is opening his mouth to say something when he’s cut off by the blaring of his ringtone. He easily takes the device out of his pocket, but falters when he sees the name that's displayed on the screen. His once relaxed demeanor has now been replaced by something tense and foreign to you. 

“I’ve uhh I’ve gotta take this. I’m so sorry.” He hits the answer button and places the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“No worries,” You whisper to him. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.” 

You watch as he nods and starts to walk deeper into the store. Before he gets out of your ear shot you hear him say the name ‘Rochelle’. Leave it to you to be into a man that already has another woman first in line.

***

“Why do we always have to come to this dump? They don’t have any good drinks and the music sucks.”

Frankie sits across from Rochelle at a random table in The Barrel. He knew better than to let her sit at the guy's designated table. He didn’t want her to corrode them the way she had done with him. 

“Why do you want to get back together, Rochelle? We never made each other happy. Our whole relationship was a coked out blur.” 

“But you liked it.” She places her hand on his. It was cold and wet since she had been using it to hold her beer bottle. 

“I’m not the same man I was before, Rochelle. I can’t do shit like that anymore. I don’t want to do shit like that anymore.” He forces himself to look her in the eyes. “You know what it cost me.”

She meets his plea with a scoff and brings her drink to her overlined lips. She never seemed interested in conversations where she wasn’t leading or the center of attention. 

“You were fun. I was fun. We were fun. So what if we needed a little bump every now and then to get there?” Her fingers curl tighter around his hand. “I miss you, Frankie.”

He missed having someone ride shotgun. He missed having someone there when he needed to vent about the shitty day that he had at work. He missed having a warm body to sleep next to at night. He missed having someone to care for. He just didn’t know if he missed her. She gave him a distraction when he needed it in the past, but could she give him the support he needs now? The support he would inevitably need in the future?

“The only way I would consider revisiting ‘us’ is if it's just us. No more coke.”

He can see the annoyance in her eyes as he lays out his boundaries on the table. She slowly retracts her hand from his and coils it back around her glass. 

“Fine.” Her tone is flat.

“I’m not kidding. I want a fresh start. If we are going to try again I want to do it right.”

“Then let's start with that woman’s voice I heard on the other end of your phone today. Who was that?”

“Are you serio- I ran into Benny’s new hire while I was out shopping for stuff for my place. She’s new to the area and doesn’t have a lot of friends here yet. It was just a friendly conversation, Rochelle.”

"Well,” Her voice is syrupy sweet. “You don’t need to be her friend because you’re already mine.”

He really wanted to believe her when she said that. He really wanted to believe that she cared for him enough to change and grow as a person. He really wanted to ignore the sound of the water calling his name the longer he sat with her. 

***

By Wednesday, you felt completely at ease working in the gym. You recognized and chatted with regulars, became quite the sales woman for both memberships and Friday tickets, and were able to kick the washing machine into submission without Benny’s help. Your desk was also coming along nicely too. You had posted notes in your favorite color, a photo you and Robbie took together in a photobooth shoved into the top right corner of your computer, multi colored pens, and even a small filing basket so you could better organize your paperwork. Your new found confidence in the job gave you the push you needed to officially pitch the idea of gym wide air fresheners to Benny.

“I don’t want this place smellin’ like a fruity little spa.” 

“You do know that they make dozens, if not hundreds, of different kinds of scents right?”

“People come here to workout, not pretend that they are on a tropical vacation.” 

“People can’t workout if the smell suffocates them.” You retort.

“It’s not even that bad!”

“You’ve gone nose blind, Benny! Please know that I say this out of the kindness of my heart, but it is fucking rancid in here.” 

“Now you’re just bein’ mean.” 

“Listen, what if I buy some, only the most manly smelling ones of course, and let you test them out? It’s a win-win because you won’t have to charge them on the company card and if you hate them I can just return them all.”

“Alright, but you promise that I will get the final say?” 

“You’re the boss, Benny. Oh, what should we eat today?”

The two of you have been eating lunch together during the week. There is a good window of time right after the gym’s lunch rush and before the after work rush. You even made sure to block off at least an hour in Benny’s schedule around that time so he could have a much needed break. 

“Have you tried that burger place up the street? Goddamn, they’re so good.” 

“Burgers it is then. Text me your order so I know what to get you.”

What? Just because your dad has to be on a strict diet doesn’t mean that you have to be on one.

***

Benny had wheeled his rolly chair all the way from his back office and crammed it behind your desk. Both of you sit snugly with your feast of burgers and fries littered in front of you. The silence is only broken up by the occasional ‘can you pass the ketchup?’ or ‘are there extra napkins in the bag?’. When you have eaten half of your burger you decide to set it down and bring up what’s been on your mind. You know you can’t just come out and ask it so you opt to bring it up gradually. 

“I saw Frankie the other day while I was out and he suggested I come to the fights this Friday.”

“I’ve been askin’ you to come since you got here!” His mouth is still full from the last bite he took. 

“Gross, Benny!” You swat him in the shoulder. “I know you have been asking, but you’re busy helping organize things! You’re the only one I know here.”

You can’t tell if he chooses to keep his mouth shut because you’re right or because you just reprimanded him.

“Frankie said I could go with him and the other guys. Plus I have no social life and it's starting to feel like the walls of my apartment are closing in on me.”

“Regardless of who convinced you to go, I’m happy you’re comin’! You’re gonna have a blast! Fish and the guys throw down pretty hard at these things too so you’ll be in good company.” 

“Yeah I think I will be too.” You have to shove a fry in your mouth to hide the smile you can feel making its way across your lips. Only once you have finished chewing, you don’t want to be a hypocrite, do you bring up what you really have been wanting too. “Can I ask a question? It might not be my place though.”

The man across from you motions, burger in hand, for you to continue. You take a deep breath and rip the band-aid off.

“Well, Frankie and I’s conversation was actually cut short when he got a phone call. I wouldn’t have said anything except- except he looked so tense when he got it? I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things.”

“No you’re definitely not imaginin’ things. I don’t want to get into Frankie’s business because that's his own shit to talk about, but long story short, a woman is tryin’ to come back into his life that shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

You pick your burger back up and take a bite as he carries on with his story. 

“The guys and I all found ways to cope with comin’ back to reality after dealin’ with the worst of the worst in and out of the service. Mine was openin’ this place, Will’s was helpin’ other vet’s, Pope’s was bein’ a military consultant, and Frankie’s was…well Frankie’s was Rochelle.”

“Rochelle.” You wanted to feel how her name felt on your tongue. “I heard him say that name when he was walking away.”

“Damnit, Fish.”

***

“So, remind me again why we are here?”

Frankie pulls into Brass Knuckles’ parking lot with Pope in his passenger seat. He knew he should have done this without him. If anyone was going to sniff out that he had a small thing for you it was going to be Pope.

“Benny left some clothes at my place last week and since we were in the neighborhood I figured I would just drop them off.” 

“As opposed to giving them to him on Friday? Which is only two days from now, might I add.” He looks in the backseat and grabs the small cardboard box. “I think he would have made it until then without a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.”

“Shut up and get out of my truck, man.” 

Frankie takes the box of clothes out of Pope’s hands when they both round the bed of the truck and start walking towards the door. He can see you entranced by something on your computer screen through the windows. 

“I also invited her to come to the fights with us this week.” Frankie flicks his chin in your direction when Pope looks at him. 

“You already have her number? Damn, Fish. I thought I worked quickly.”

“No, man,” He groans. “We ran into each other while I was at IKEA on Sunday. I just thought it would be fun, you know? It’s not like that, Pope.” 

“Fish, you were a bad liar when we served together and you’re a bad liar now.” He turns to look at Frankie. “Come on, you think she’s cute don’t you?”

“She’s just cool.” He should have never brought Pope.

“Whatever you say.” 

The chime of the door bell pulls you from your emails. You’re shocked, but not unhappy, when you look up and see the two of them coming through the door.

“Hey guys. I didn’t know y’all were coming by today.”

“I would have texted you, love, but I haven’t got your number.” Pope flashes his signature beaming grin in your direction. 

“Well you never asked, love.” You tease. 

“We wanted to drop some things off for Benny.” Frankie says as he comes up and places a cardboard box gingerly on your desk.

“Who's ‘we’?” Pope gabs. 

Your attention stays on Frankie as you speak. “Oh, sure! He’s in the back office doing…actually I'm not really sure what he does back there.”

When Frankie doesn’t immediately move, Pope reaches over and slides the box towards himself. 

“Hey, what are you-?”

“Let me take this for you, Fish. Why don’t you stay here and get her number for me? Strictly for scientific purposes of course.” You can see a playful look in his eyes when he turns back to his clearly panicking friend. 

“Wait, no it’s-”

“It’s no big deal, exactly.” Pope whisks the box off your desk and starts walking into the gym, but not before tossing you a wink. 

It suddenly feels a little harder to breathe when it’s just the two of you up front. You want to compliment the soft, yellow jacket he is wearing, but no words come. The only thing you can selfishly focus on right now is your heart and how it's beating so hard in your chest that he can probably hear it. 

“It’s nice to see you again.” You think you can hear his voice shutter a bit.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Frankie. Still alright for me to come with everyone on Friday? I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing!” The words tumble out of his mouth. “You’re not imposing. I invited you, remember?” His tone settles.

“Thanks again for that by the way.” 

A silence falls between the two of you. You both must have been racking your brains for something to say because you speak at the same time.

“Did you-?”

“Were you able-?”

Comfortable laughter blossoms and it dawns on you that he might be just as nervous to talk to you as you were to talk to him. 

“No, no you go first!” You choke out while trying to catch your breath. 

“Did you end up getting anything else after I left the other day?” 

“I actually did; thanks for asking! I found a bed frame I liked. It took me longer than I'd like to admit to put it together though.” 

Frankie has never been more grateful for the front desk than in this exact moment. Images of your naked, writhing body cuffed to a bed frame flood his mind. God, he could do anything he wanted to you. He would take it slow at first, not wanting to leave any part of your body undiscovered by his tongue. Then, only when you were begging him, would he give you what you wanted. 

“Frankie?”

“I-I’m sorry what did you say?”

“I asked if you were able to find anything? You didn’t have a basket when I saw you.”

“No, I didn’t. The thing I wanted was just out of reach-stock! The thing I wanted was just out of stock.” He corrects.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You pray your voice doesn’t give away the curiosity you have about his little slip up. “Here. Let me give you something to make up for it.” 

You take out a pen from its holder and move your stack of sticky notes in front of you. His eyes capture your every move. You write out your number slowly on the small piece of paper as you revel in the knowledge that you have his undivided attention. When you’re finished you sign it with your name and a tiny heart and pray that you haven’t misread this situation. 

“I know Pope was the one that asked for this, but I want you to hold on to it.” 

Your cheeks burn as you hand him your proverbial olive branch. When he takes it from you and reads what you had written he laughs quietly to himself. 

“You know, so you can text me about this Friday.”

“Not for scientific purposes?” He mimics his friend's earlier statement.

“Unlucky for Pope, I was never really that into the sciences.”

“Lucky for me then.” 

He folds up your note and carefully places it into his front shirt pocket. His timing couldn't have been better because Benny and Pope emerge from behind the brick wall as soon as he’s done. 

“I hear that you managed to convince our girl here to come with y’all to the fights, Fish! Good on you!” He comes up and claps his friend on the back. “I’m not at all jealous that you did it when I couldn’t.”

“Benny.” you chide.

“Why don’t you make it up to Benny and come to the bar with us?”

“One step at a time, Pope. One step at a time. I do have something for you though.”

He comes over to you as you start writing your number out again. Out of the corner of your eye you see him give Frankie and Benny and thumbs up. Oh you poor, sweet, incorrect bastard. You nonchalantly pass it to him and hope Frankie see’s that there is no heart drawn on this time. 

“Your reward for being such a big helper today by returning Benny’s clothes. If you text me in the middle of the night and wake me up I swear to God I’ll kill you.” 

“What bliss that would be.” 

“Hey! Unless y’all are gonna workout y’all better get a move on. Just because we are friends doesn’t mean y’all can take up valuable lobby space in my gym.” 

“We’re going, we’re going.” For a man that is getting ushered out of a building, Frankie sure looks happy. 

“Bye, guys!”

They both wave and say ‘bye’ to you and Benny as they open the door and head into the parking lot. Benny heads back to his office before they reach their truck, but you keep watching. As Frankie’s hand curls around his truck door, he looks back at you, and pats over his shirt pocket. Then he disappears inside and drives off with Pope. 

Frankie could feel the note he placed in his pocket burning a hole through his chest the whole ride back to Pope’s place. It made it hard to carry on a simple conversation with him because that fiery sensation was all he could focus on. It was the type of heat that seeped into his very bones and made him feel as if he was glowing from the inside out. He knew you had unknowingly seared yourself onto his heart and that feeling scared him.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @pimosworld @c-justhere @javicstories @saltybutteredtoast @hoeslingz @avastrasposts @bitchwitch1981 @smol-beb @cutesyscreenname }

[princessb4mbi]

MESSAGES I CAN’T SEND

꩜ tags black!reader, therapist!eren, college setting, age gap (reader in 20s, eren in 30s), power dynamic, not so protective sex? mentions of death [not proofread]

꩜ synopsis isn’t it obvious to hide your private life better? or was it not obvious when a video of you dry-humping a pillow was sent to your therapist.

@ word count 3.6k

story below the cut !!

ever since you’ve lost your mother to old age, your mental health has spiraled downwards a little bit. you’ve had the privilege of knowing when she WOULD die and at-least died in a proper place rather than somewhere shitty, so that’s cheered your spirits up a little bit. she was your best friend though, and losing your best friend is painful. you went to her whenever you could, talked on the phone for hours, and slept in her bed every night as if you were still five years old. 

you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much. 

you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much. 

“do you want me to hook you up with my therapist? he’ll seriously help you clear all cloudy thoughts away y/n,” sasha says caressing your cheeks

you move your face away from her hand, “they aren’t cloudy thoughts sas, im just grieving my mother..” 

“i know baby, i know.. but i don’t want to grieve YOU if you die of a heartbreak. i want you to get better, physically and mentally.” sasha looks at me emphatically.

she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her contacts until stopping at a card called “dr.jaeger”. “listen, give him a call please. his prices are cheap and his place is nice. it’s not like those dull white offices with an ugly long chair and a monotone person.” 

you sighed, reluctantly agreeing to her copying and pasting the number to your phone. “okey, i gotta go now babe, but PROMISE me you’ll give him a call, he’ll help you, and if he doesn’t i’ll play for any of your bills ok?” sasha says packing up her stuff. she kisses your cheek before leaving the quiet study area, leaving you alone to your own thoughts. 

you stare at the contact card, pulling dr. jaeger’s name up on your laptop and scrolling through his website. sasha was right about one thing, his prices WERE cheap. about $65 an hour and he also had packages where two weeks of therapy would be about $350 in total.   

the prices however, weren’t enough to convince you fully, as your scroll down to see the reviews.  

“dr. jaeger saved me. after the loss of my wife, i never felt like so lonely, but my daughter told me about him and he’s helped me heal properly and not turn to anything crazy. he’s an amazing person with amazing talents as such a young age. 5 stars” 

ok.. that was something. not that you were going to invalidate them, but that seemed just.. fake. you decided to read another one.

“oh my gosh. no one would believe how amazing someone is at listening and understanding a person’s thoughts. dr. jaeger was nothing like those terrible therapists who make you pay $100 for an shitty hour call. oh how i wished i can say more, but the character limit is fu” 

you giggled at that one. maybe i should give him a call. with a deep breath, you called the number. 

“hello? my name is y/n, i’d like to speak to dr. jaeger please.” 

— 

it’s been about a month since you’ve scheduled a session with dr. jaeger, only having to wait that long due to “heavy traffic”. sasha is currently driving you to the building. 

“you know, i’m really proud of you for calling. i was scared you were going to stay depressed forever.” sasha says over her 80s radio playing. 

“let’s not get too happy yet, he could still be shit at his job..” you say cutting down any happy thoughts. 

“you’re STILL doubting him y/n? i get that some people are money hungry, but i promise you he’s not. if he was, do you think ME of all people would be recommending you to him? i mean c’mon, have some faith please.” 

“i’m sorry, i just nervous ok. my stomach is doing backflips at the moment.” 

“hey man, if you feel like farting, ill park somewhere and you can walk the rest of the way.”

you two pull up to the parking lot, fancy with a modern style front. the office itself if very modern and 2 floored. 

“k, i’m gonna drop you off here, call me when you’re done ok?” 

you walk out of sasha’s car, waving her goodbye while she drives away. you walk into the sleek office, with painting from what you the assume were from the last two centuries. 

the receptionist greets you with a nice smile “welcome, how may i help you today?” you give her your name. “ah i see, you right on time then, ill have this guard guide you to dr. jaeger’s office.” just then, a semi tall man with a black uniform from comes in-front of me. “right this way.” 

he leads me into the elevator, where he then leads me into a hallway with lots of rooms. there’s multiple therapists in this building, all with different ways. as i look through the glass windows, i see pet therapy, group therapy and even massage therapy. the guard finally stops at a door, with a name tag having “DR. JAEGER” on it. “here’s your room, have a nice day.” he says as he’s walking away. you give him a quick thank you and knock on the door. 

a deep “come in.” follows shortly after, and you enter the room. first impression of when you enter the room was that sasha was right. the room was anything from boring, and didn’t have white walls but instead had a mix of brown and auburn. there was lots of old-style decor too. a record player, cd’s and even the tv was kinda old. 

however you were greeted with the most shocking thing of all, dr. jaeger himself. he looked away from his papers, to look at you and gave you a warm smile. his visuals was… something you didn’t expect. most therapist are middle-aged men and women, that are sort-of not the most attractive. but that was ok, because they wanted to help you, not seduce you. dr. jaeger on the other hand was extremely beautiful. he has dark brown hair, put up in a semi-messy bun, the most luscious green eyes, and very kissable pink lips. 

i guess you were admiring his facial features for too long to notice dr. jaeger looking at you weirdly. “maybe un-responsive.” he mutters to himself, typing down on his laptop. upon hearing his words, you apologize and scurried to the seat in-front of him. 

“or not. . . my name is dr. jaeger, if you’ve haven’t gotten a chance to see on the door.” 

“i did, sorry for not responding earlier.” 

“it’s ok, its common for most genders to be shocked at how i look.” dr. jaeger said in a non-concerned voice. you were took aback a little by his comment, most genders to be shocked at how he looked? you were wondering if he was just annoyed at the common occurrence or just knew that he was an attractive man. “pushing that aside,” he sighed “sasha has told me a lot about you.” he says looking up at you. 

“she did?” you question.

“mhm, she cares for you ms….” he looks at the paper look for your last name. 

“y/l/n.” 

“ah, thank you. sasha cares for you ms. y/l/n. she talks about your recovery, and wants you to best happy for her.” he says maintaining eye contact. you can’t respond to such kindness. all you can do is nod your head and smile. 

“but as a therapist view-point, the death of a loved one is one of the hardest battle we have to overcome as a human being. no matter how emotionless a person may be, the death of anything else to them will always cause someone to break. that’s just how we are, we humans . . . after all.” he says empathically. 

“my job isn’t to make you forget your mother, or forget the pain you feel about her. you always feel pain lingering about her, and that’s ok. i’m just here to help you reduce that pain.” 

you were shocked. cheap prices, handsome therapist AND a good one at that? maybe it’s good to stay faithful after all. 

— 

it’s been about 3 weeks since you’ve had daily therapy sessions with mr. jaeger and he’s honestly been helping you a lot. you had different kinds of sessions, like walking around and even some pet therapy. today was for a usual one-on-one walk around the building beautiful outside landscape.

as you and dr. jaeger walk around, you wave to the other clients with their own therapists. “see how social you’ve gotten? when we first came here, you were begging to stay back inside due to all the people,” he jokes around. “now, you’re friendly with them. it’s good progress.” he smiles to himself. 

“it was only because of you, dr. jaeger. i don’t think i’d be the way i am without your help.” 

“ah. . . don’t flatter me too much. let’s sit right here yea?” he says pointing towards the swinging wood benches. “it’s beautiful outside, isn’t it ms. y/l/n?” he turns to look at you. 

“yea, it really is.” you turn back to stare at him. god, you can stare into his eyes for hours. it’s something that about that were so addicting, that you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. to break the silence, you decided to follow up with a cheeky comment. “say dr. jaeger, you really know how to keep a client.” he moves his head to the side, confused. “i like to believe that my clients stay with my due to how i help them and not my looks.” ah fuck. it was not received well at all, and you just profusely apologized to him. 

“but, if my looks did make people stay, that wouldn’t be all too bad huh,” he says giving a hearty laugh. “but tell me now, ms y/l/n. does my looks make you stay?” you were at a loss for words. one part of you wanted to say “fuck yes” while another part of you wanted to say “absolutely not”. and you of course went with the latter. 

“whatever your answer is, it doesn’t bother me either way. . . but it looks like our time is up ms. y/l/n.” you look down at your phone for the time. it was up after he exclaimed. the two of you head back to his office to pick you up your stuff. 

that night later, you were chilling in your bed, getting ready to dose off. you however, couldn’t sleep without thinking about a fantasy. it didn’t matter what type, other than it having to be something interesting. you close your eyes, your mind shifting to dr. jaeger, and the moments between you two that drove you insane. like that one time he wore a turtle neck, showing off his clothed six-pack abs. you imagined yourself touching them, feeling the rock-hardness of them. you open your eyes again, looking around the room. to be honest, you haven’t.. you know what, in a while and you thought it might be time to do it again. 

you move your bedsheets closer to the edge to give you more space. and moved all your pillows away except for one. you pulled your phone out and started to record. it might seem weird to other people, but you like to record yourself, in the time that you couldn’t find anything good on twitter or reddit. 

you start to rock your hips back n forth on the pillow, assuming it the body of a male. maybe it was dr. jaeger body you could’ve been assuming it off. either way, it turned you on, seeing how you started to move faster on your pillow. one of your hands grip the pillow, as the other hand massages your boob. you move faster, enjoying the friction your clit is getting between the pillow and your soaked panties. you close your eyes, imagining dr. jaeger guiding your body with his big, veiny hands. as you’re about to climax, you can’t help but subtly whimper his name. 

once you’ve finished, you end the video. while you’re cleaning up, sasha enters the room. “hey girlie, i was thinking of getting some drinks tomorrow night? wanna come?” she says exciting. “i would but i have a session with dr. jaeger tomorrow.” 

“boo, you’re boring.” 

“whatever, i’m going to the shower, so let me know if anything happens ok?” 

“yea yea boring y/n.” 

you go to the bathroom and take off your clothes, hopping inside the shower. you turn on the water, letting the lukewarm water hit your skin. you are alone with your thoughts until sasha comes inside the bathroom. 

“not to be nosey, but dr. jaeger texted you.” she says. 

“mhm really? what did he say?” 

“i didn’t look at it properly, but something about a daily wellness video?” you knew right away. dr. jaeger usual makes his clients make videos of themselves with positive affirmations, then with their consent, he’ll use it on his website for future clientele. 

“ahh ok! just send him the most recent video.” you photo gallery takes forever to update, so there’s a chance it’ll take forever to show the video of your “naughty time”. 

“ok, sending right now… and it’s sent. if he wants a further conversation, i’ll let you know.” 

“thanks sash.” 

as you walk out the steamy bathroom, and get ready for bed, you check your notifications for any new ones. you go into the chat between you and dr. jaeger, seeing if theres anything new. you took a look at the video of your affirmation, seeing the shirt you wore today as the thumbnail. you clicked on it, expecting your face to zoom out, as you were testing the camera quality always. to your shock, you camera didn’t zoom out. but instead was your body moving back and forth on something. your heart dropped. it couldn’t be. you’re praying it wasn’t. you skip some of the video to see if it was truly what you think it was, but the video suddenly changed to a more in-depth shot of you humping the pillow with your panties being in view. 

your heart start to beat faster than usual. you click off the video to delete it right away. dr. jaeger didn’t respond to it, and it said it was ‘delivered.’ you wanted to tell yourself that he hasn’t seen it, and probably watches those videos early in the morning. you weren’t going to stress yourself out though, you were just gonna go to his office per usual, and get counseling per usual.

— 

you take a deep breath and knock at his door, hoping it all ends well. you hear his “come in” but it sounds different from before. his voice went an octave lower. you walk into the room, seeing a more “messy” side of dr. jaeger. at-least he didn’t look at cleaned up as he usually does. his bun was a lot more frizzy from before and he had two buttons undone on his button up shirt. 

maybe he had a rough morning. you think to yourself. “good morning ms. y/l/n. how was your night?” you stopped for a second. such a simple question was something so dangerous to you. “it was fine, dr. jaeger. how about yours?” 

“oh. one of the best i’ve had in a while.” 

“ah. mine was the worst i’ve had in a while.” you mumbled. 

“really? i would’ve assumed you’ve had a very nice night ms. y/l/n.” 

you stare at him confused. what could he mean by that? yea, you fixed your hair a little better than usual, and your eye bags have gone away overtime, but you truly did have a sleepless night yesterday. dr. jaeger gets up from his chair, to lean on his desk, standing in-front of you. he stared down at you with his usually lighter colored eyes now displayed a dark-green. and his pupils were more extended. 

“i don’t know what gives you the impression that i’ve had a nice night dr. jaeger.” 

he bends to to match the height of the chair, and put both of his hands on the rest, restricting me from mounting off of it easily. “let’s cut the crap, y/n. i saw what you sent me.” at this moment, it felt like 100 daggers were suddenly lodged into your chest. 

“i wondered why you asked what you did yesterday. i thought to myself ‘maybe she thought i was attractive’, but i see it was more than that i see,” he says not breaking eye contact. “you see, as a human, we see something we like, and have many kinds of thoughts about it. and i see the thoughts you have towards me are stronger than what i expected.” 

“i’m truly sorry dr. jaeg-“ 

“call me eren, seeing as that is what you called me in the video.” 

“i’m sorry eren, truly. i don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable or hurt this relationship between us.” i say holding back my tears. 

“hurt? uncomfortable? those words are out of the park right now,” he says standing up. “to be honest, tell me why you came today y/n.” 

“to have a therapy session with you.” you meekly say.

“is my looks standing in the way of you healing with the death of your mother?” he says standing behind me. 

“not at all, dr. jae- eren.” 

“so then what provoked you to send me a five minute long video of you fucking yourself to a pillow in the imagination that it’s me?” you were at a loss for words. he was right. your heart sank as his word dug deeper into you. and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. you started to quietly sob, feeling large hands down your shoulders. you feel a hot breath near your eyes chill down your spine. “don’t cry, not in this manner at least,” he says in your ear. 

“cry because you can’t handle it, y/n.” 

you stopped and turned to look at him. he had a devilish grin on his face. “handle what?” you say, not catching his gist. 

“you’ll find out soon enough.”

eren lifts you up by the arm and spins you around to face him completely. you didn’t know what was going on, but you didn’t want to push away. your faces was a mere 4 inches away from each other. “can i? y/n. . . can i give you what you want?” 

you look at his eyes then his lips then his eyes again. fuck it, you nod your head and eren kisses you passionately. he stops kissing you for a moment to push the chairs aside. you look at his desk to see his usually messy papers cleaned up to the side. he planned this probably . . . eren picks you up and places you on his desk. 

he places a hand on your chin, rubbing it gently. “open it baby,” he says as his kisses you again, but placing his tongue all over the inside of your mouth. his hands tug on the bottom of your shirt, signaling for it to be removed. in between each kiss, you both take off a piece of clothing until you up to your undergarments. eren slips his large hand under your breast, fondling with it while he leaves wet hickeys on your neck. with the other hand he unclasps the bra, throwing it the ground. he kisses you again, muttering “nice tits”.

you pull at the band of his underwear, “want you in me ren’.” you whine. “patience baby.” eren says sliding your panties off to the floor. 

“are you on any pills by any chance?”, he says rubbing ur slick all over your cunt. “m-mhm ren.’”

“good. so i don’t have to hold back.” 

eren slips his underwear off, revealing his long, veiny and girthy dick. you want to guess it’s around 6-7 inches, but it was gonna tear you up regardless. he strokes his dick, ‘lubing’ it up with his pre-cum. he inches closer to you, having his dick and your hole just one insert away from each other. you open your legs wider and lay down on his desk, giving him more access to yourself. “didn’t even have to ask.” eren said.

he teases the tip of his dick on your clit. your whole body tingles in response, arching your back off the cold desk. “please ren’…” you beg, desperately wanting his dick buried into you. “please fuck me eren.” 

“as you wish.” with that, eren aligns himself with your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. the both of you moan simultaneously from the pleasure you both felt. eren starts to push his hips back and forth into you, keeping a firm grip on your waist. eren keeps a nice pace, making sure to satisfy both sides. suddenly, eren lifts your legs, wrapping them around his waist. you jolted from the tingle he gave you. you were trying to conceal your moans, but every time it was getting louder than usual, eren made sure put his hand over your mouth.

eren’s pace starts to unstable, moving fast at times and then slowing down to grind himself on you. you can tell he was close to his climax, seeing how desperate and shaky thrusts were. 

“‘m so close baby. . .” he grunts. 

“‘ren please! mhm.” you whine, begging him to release. 

“at the same time? what a good girl..” he barely breathes out. 

eren picks you up by the waist to pull you closer to him. there wasn’t enough space between you too, but he didn’t care. eren grinds his dick into you, feeling his dick throb in your walls. then, you feel a warm liquid pour inside of you, while at the same time cry out from your orgasm. 

[mingihttps]

dream boy

patient!soobin x therapist!reader

soobin has a crush on his therapist, but what happens when his therapist says she's dropping him as a client when yeonjun tells her about soobin's crush.

wc: >600

warnings: therapy, talks of anxiety and insecurities, a little lying, talks of things being unethical

walking on stages, performing in front of thousands of people, doing interviews back to back, and having every little part of my life known by millions of people wasn’t easy. my anxiety was getting very bad; even walking outside had become difficult. it got to the point that i was issued a therapist by the company. whenever i had my first session i kept zoning out and stumbling over my words due to the fact that my therapist was the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. everytime i had a session with her i would talk for hours about nothing and everything all at once. she would make me feel like i could conquer anything after i left her office, but i never wanted to leave, i wanted to talk to her forever.

i had sessions with y/n once a week for a year and a half before she recommended me lowering our time to every other week. i tried to tell her that i would still like to see her every week but y/n said i no longer needed to see her that frequently since i've made so much improvement. i have made a lot of improvement, she's not wrong, but i started lying to her about how i was feeling so she would see me more frequently again. so my session times got switched back to once a week. every monday i got to see y/n and i was always so excited. on monday mornings i would count down the hours and minutes until it was time for my appointment with her.

today was monday and i was already in my session with y/n. i had told her about our new album and our upcoming tour, and y/n surprisingly said she already listened to it. i “jokingly” offered her tickets to the tour but she didn't take the offer. before i know it, and much sooner than i would have liked, our session was over. y/n showed me out of her office and i saw yeonjun waiting for me in the lobby to take me back home. i internally groaned seeing him here since he is the only member i have told about the painful crush i have on my therapist.

“ready to go?” yeonjun smiled at me and gave y/n a slight nod as a greeting.

“let me pay for the session and we can go.” i said as i walked towards the reception’s desk in the lobby. i saw yeonjun walk up to y/n out of the corner of my eye. i strained my hearing to try to listen in on their conversation; unfortunately, when i did i could hear yeonjun tell y/n about how i liked her. i bite my lip hard enough to almost make it bleed, and squeeze my eyes shut to try to hide my embarrassment from the receptionist. i put my card away as i finish paying and hesitantly head back towards yeonjun and y/n.

“soobin! i just printed out the paperwork that would relieve you of my services, i'll need you to sign those.” y/n says to me with a large smile on her face. i look at her with large eyes full of terror. she’s dropping me as a client because yeonjun told her i liked her? why does she look so happy about it?

“what?” i say after a while, it was the only words that my brain could think of at the moment.

“well it would be unethical of me to date one of my clients. so, sorry, you’ll have to find a new therapist.” y/n winked at me. date? does she have feelings for me too?

“i'll wait for you in the car.” yeonjun says as he patted me on the back and walked out.

requests are open !!