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imaginesforeons · 9 months

Note

Hii since requests are open May I ask if you could write something for yan! Nanami with very scared reader who's just straight up terrified of him and the situation they're in they always hide when they hear him come home shake and shiver whenever he touches then and even vomit from all that stress and fear? If no that's completely okay and feel free to ignore this, thanks a bunch and have a great night/day I love your writing!<33

Sure!! I wrote this, hope it's ok! Also, I will get to the other requests as well, but I had eye surgery a few days ago so it's slow-going. Don't worry though, no-one will be forgotten.

Yandere!Nanami x TouchAvoidant!Reader

~Nanami comes home. You aren't happy~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced contact but nothing NSFW.

WC: 934

REQS are open. At the top of my page you can see who/what I write for. The more specific your requests the better! :)

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

The room that he put you in when he had to leave could only be described as scared to impose. Soft cream walls stared at you from every angle, and an impossibly plush carpet rested beneath your socked feet. Baby blues and minty greens made up the few colors, and they were things like pillows and blankets all of impossible quality. Minky couture and goose down pillows had become your new normal, strewn across the ground and whatever sparse furniture there was, yet nothing else decorated the space. There were no lamps, no paintings, no furniture that wasn’t carefully and thoroughly bolted down; nothing could be used as a weapon. Even the window was welded shut, made of polycarbonate that was impossible to break. You would know, as you’d tried multiple times.

It was a room carefully constructed, a room not meant to impose on the delicate sensibilities of the one in it. It held the same air as a therapist’s office. Or a padded cell.

You shifted, sinking deeper into your chair. Idly you thumbed through your book, but nothing in it caught your interest. You had finished reading it hours ago, but you were too shy to ask him for another, and instead simply left your finished reads on his table to show that you were done. The light shining through your window was turning a burnished gold. It was getting late, which meant soon he would be home. You felt a churning in your stomach at the thought, and gripped your book tighter in your hands, listening to the pages crinkle.

You jumped when you heard the rumble of a car’s engine pull into the drive, then the damning sound of a door opening and closing. Forgotten, the book fell from your hands, hitting the floor. You grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and held it to your chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between you and what was coming.

All too soon, he was there. From across the room you locked eyes, yet before you could say anything he started moving towards you. Your muscles jumped, and it took all you had not to run. It wouldn’t work, you’d already tried.

“How was your day?” Nanami asked as he loosened his tie.

“Fine,” you murmured, casting your eyes down and staring at his feet. When a hand touched your shoulder, you winced, jerking back into the chair as if you tried hard enough you’d bury yourself into it and disappear.

Above you, Nanami sighed. Slowly, he knelt before you, placing himself between your legs and staring up at you in a way that made your skin itch. A large hand wrapped around your calf, unyielding. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it would be impossible to break out of his hold.

“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. A calloused thumb stroked over the skin of your leg.

You shifted restlessly. “I know.” When his other hand wrapped around your calf, it took all you had not to scream. To anyone else it probably would have felt nice, witht the way he had started to massage it, but it was all you could do to hold in a scream. Instead you brought your legs in, folding them criss-cross beneath your body.

“Most people would love a massage after a long day,” Nanami said.

“Most people aren’t kidnappers,” you snapped back.

Nanami hummed. “I suppose our circumstances are unique.” And then he ran his knuckles across your cheek.

Your skin went electric and you flinched, flailing and trying to jump from the chair. Before you could touch the carpet, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You froze, and your expression could have been enough to bring any onlookers to tears. The arms shifted, lifting you, squeezing you to his chest.

“Please, Nanami,” you whispered. “Please let me go.”

“Shh,” the man murmured, pressing a kiss against your brow. To you, it felt like a brand.

“Let me go,” you pleaded.

You started to struggle, and though you knew it was a fruitless action, there was nothing left for you to do. Twisting, you writhed in his arms like a snake, but it only made things worse. He held you closer to him, enough that you could feel it when he breathed, and when your shirt rode up your torso from struggling, his large, calloused hand found its way to your naked skin, fingers trailing across it. He made his way to the bed, sitting on its edge with you still in his hold.

“Stop it!” you shouted, pounding your fists against his chest. “I said stop!”

“Listen to me,” Nanami said. He was raising his voice, not out of anger, but in an effort to make himself heard. He wrapped one arm around your torso, holding your arms down, while the other went to your face, turning you to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, dear. The only reason I do this is out of my love for you. Can’t you see that?”

“This isn’t love,” you snarled, angry tears building in your eyes. “You’re delusional!”

“Shh,” Nanami crooned. He pressed his lips to your temple. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to stay here until you calm down. One day you’ll understand.”

You kicked uselessly at him, but it only made Nanami hook a leg over yours, pinning you. You sniffled, and felt the first tears coursing down your face. Nanami only held you closer, and started rocking back and forth, a motion that would have been soothing in any other context.

#jjk imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere nanami x reader #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader

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noemilivv · 7 months

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HIYA HIYA!!! this is the super energetic bro that u matched with velvette, qnd I was curioussss to requesttttt smthhh (also maybe if u want to easier identify me I could be ✨️anon??)

Ok! SO! ~Imagine~ maybeee that angel has a person he is romantically interested in (reader)

And so reader is ~severely introverted~ and thus, not much is know about them. But! Charlie is leading a art group one day, for like, rehab bc art therapy is super big, and reader is really good at it, and basically drops lore that they where in college to be an art therapist‼️

And so‼️

Maybe angel, seeing this opportunity to get closer, and was like- "ayo want me to model 4 u??👀👀" and reader is like " pls wear clothes this isn't gunna be nude modeling bc I will get super embarrassed" and so basically soft fluff of reader painting angel and getting to know each other and confession

Mayybbee a oneshot?? If ur willing! Nor pressure

Also make sure to take time to urself and rest and eat water and drink food!!!

Lots of love from a silly Lil fan!! :))

hello dear!! ofc you can be ✨ anon, you’re already on my list haha, as i’ve stated in the past, im not amazing at oneshots, but here’s my take on this !

Warnings: Mentions of Nudity, Lazily written (sorryyyy), Pretty short

“Smooth Talker”

Angel Dust x Artist!Reader

After one of Charlie’s…interesting exercises, Vaggie suggests that the group should do therapy art, since y’know, it calms the soul. And Charlie couldn’t be more eager to do so!

The lobby was set up with canvases, paints, brushes, everything you could need!

Unlike most of Charlie’s previous activities, almost everyone was willing to participate, although Husk and Alastor kinda stood off to the side and watched.

Charlie was painting a cartoon version of Razzle and Dazzle, Vaggie was painting a sunset based off of the lesbian flag, Pentious was painting him in his war machine taking over Hell, and Niffty? Eh.. You don’t wanna know..

You on the other hand? Stood in front of your canvas, clueless, “Y’know, I could model for you..” Angel says into your ear.

Your head turned to face him “Sure.” You say nonchalantly before turning back to your canvas.

“Wait really?-”

“Just please keep your clothes on.”

Eventually you had moved your stuff over to the other side of the lobby so Angel could pose on the couch.

He had a soft smirk, as he layed on the couch, his arm propping up his face. Although, he began to get fidgety, messing with his fluff.

“Stop moving.” You said with a soft smile.

Angel kept messing his fluff. “Ange!”

“Gee, sorry!” He said, chuckling, moving his arm back to its original position.

“So uh, how’d you get into all this?” Angel asked as the sketching of your pencil went to a stop and you began actually painting it. “College, back when I was alive I wanted to be an art therapist.” You explained.

“Fitting.” He murmured. For the most part, it was silent, a comforting silence though, the presence of each other was oddly soothing.

“Okay.” You muttered, squiggling your signature down at the bottom of the canvas quickly, “I’m done.” You announce to him, turning the canvas around to show him.

Angel perks up immediately, amazed by your skill, he slowly gets up off the couch to get a closer look. “Damn…” He said, his voice above a whisper, “Can I… Can I keep it?” He asked, hopeful that you might say yes, “Duh.” You giggled.

“For once the smooth talker is shocked, that’s new.” You say with a smirk. “And for once the introvert is talking back, that’s new.” Angel replies, but the usual attitude in his voice isn’t there, his voice is barely above a whisper as his eyes are still entranced with the painting.

You take the painting off the stand and hand it to Angel. You look over to a nearby window notice the sun is setting, despite the red sky still being as clear as day, “It’s getting late, I’m gonna head up to my room.” You say. “Yeah… Me too.”

As you and Angel are both walking to your rooms, you don’t say much, until a voice pipes up, “Y’know, I really owe ya for the painting.” Angel says, still looking at it, “Owe me what?” You ask, as you both arrive at your door.

“A date, maybe.” Angel says, pecking your forehead, “Stop by my room at eight tomorrow, if your interested~”

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

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Please can I have a little crumblet of my hubby in therapy 😭🥰

You can have an entire snippet!! 💕💋

“Would you like to talk about these bad experiences?”

“Not really.”

He realizes he’s coming off as rude, and gruffly adds with a shrug: “There’s nothing to talk about. It was a bad experience.”

You look at him now, mirroring the up and down glance he just gave you, and he starts to shake his leg. An involuntary action that tells you he feels like this situation resembles an interrogation. When your gaze slowly drops to his boot bouncing in the air under that chair, it stops.

He doesn’t like it that he got caught being slightly nervous. He makes it clear that he knows what you just did, that you were evaluating him just with your stare, and that he doesn’t like it one bit.

You could almost swear from this little scenario alone that Simon Riley has a background that includes some form of torture.

You scribble another word on your notebook.

Hypervigilant. Suspicious?

“Do you have nightmares?”

“Sometimes.”

“What kind of nightmares?”

He takes a longish pause, directs those vigilant eyes to the floor for a moment. The leg gives another shake, then another shake.

“The regular. Trapped inside a crashed vehicle or plane. Can’t get out and then I wake up feeling like I can’t get air.”

You put it up: regular nightmares about suffocating to death.

“Then there’s the occasional dream where I strangle women.”

You pause in the middle of writing, then quickly return to what you were doing.

Okay... Okay. Nothing too unusual, you can do this. You try to keep your breaths long and even as you raise your stare and your professional compassion to him.

“Would you like to elaborate more on that?”

He huffs a dark, short chuckle.

“No. But I guess I have to.”

He thinks he has to tell you about his nightmares about hurting women only because that’s far more concerning than the occasional dreams of being caught in a death trap. Or then he wants you to say it’s ok and that they are only dreams.

You draw a breath, but it's he who speaks first.

“I would never hurt a woman in real life.”

You tilt your head, this time with genuine compassion. It’s simply the human in you: the woman in you. One of your whimsical new age friends said you're a wounded healer and that you should be careful before you start mothering another emotionally unavailable, broken man. That you ought to date someone sensible for once.

You fight the urge to shake those thoughts off – you’re not planning to date this man. You can’t date your clients, it’s the first rule of being a therapist. Well, perhaps not the first, but still, you’re not here to save–

“Don’t know what to do with those dreams. It's just… Is wha’ it is.”

You take another deep breath. “How does it–”

“Make me feel?” He huffs. It’s not what you were going to ask, but you’re pleased to see he’s being co-operative. In his own way.

“Disgusting. Makes me feel disgusted with myself.”

“These are just dreams. As long as you don’t make them reality, they’re just dreams.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Your lips draw into a thin line, and you can’t help yourself from scribbling another thing down.

Arrogant.

“What did I do now?” He asks, trying to direct the conversation elsewhere. Or then he’s genuinely curious. What was it in his Yeah, I know that was so telling, so monumental? You notice that you’re smiling softly as you draw him back to the session in hand.

“How have you dealt with these feelings of shame and disgust?”

He blinks.

“Guess I haven’t. What would doctor suggest?”

“I’m not a doctor. But I would suggest you introduce yourself to mercy every time you have these nightmares.”

“Mercy,” he repeats, a bit flabbergasted. His voice lacks the commanding, rough tone it usually has when he knows he’s one step ahead.

“Yes. How does that feel?” You could hit yourself on the forehead for using such a cliche line. You continue before he gets to return it all back to you with a jab. “Does the word mercy incite anything particular in you?”

“I dunno. Haven’t found it useful.”

His answer is typical for a soldier and a commander of his team. But you see that you’ve at least planted a seed. The word mercy will probably be on his mind even when he goes to sleep tonight.

“And why is that?”

“It’s a luxury I can’t afford,” he shrugs nonchalantly. A tough world view, as was expected, and you move on to the question everyone either hates or loves the most.

“How would you describe your childhood? Your relationship with your mother and father?”

He gives a short laugh. “That didn’t take long.”

“Some of these questions might seem unimportant right now but I hope you would answer them nonetheless. Could you do that for me?”

The last line is not your usual go, but with this client, you have a hunch that a little bit of charm might go a long way. And you just can’t help yourself. Of course, the results are immediate.

“Sure, miss,” he drags every syllable like he’s tasting champagne on his tongue. “Childhood… Not a very happy one. Father was a drinker. Cheated on my mum.”

#ghost in therapy #wips

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aesthetic-gamersnail · 11 months

Text

What happened in the first family counseling session of the brothers (it contains a spoiler from Trolls 3 since it is based on the movie, so be warned)

Edit: Originates from the meme I made to this topic. Enjoy :)

Therapist: So, at the beginning I always like to begin with the question: why are you here?

The brothers are sitting on a couch in a nicely dimmed room which has green paint on the walls. The therapist sits across them in his armchair, between him and them a coffee table with a vase of fresh flowers, a cup full of pencils, a neat stack of papers and - what immediately catches Clay's eyes - a burning scented candle. (The order in which the brothers sit on the couch from left to right: Branch, Clay, Spruce, Floyd, John)

All: ...

John: Honestly, I think there is no reason for why we are here.

Bruce: And I think, that you are probably one of the main reasons why we are here. And you probably need it the most.

John: I'm sorry, but I think the real reason we are here is because our little brother's lady forced him to do it.

Branch: WHAT? *he whipped his head around* She didn't force me to do it, she recommended it to me and I took her advice because you know what? I actually CARE about our family and I think we could do a lot better.

John: Do you want to say that I don't care about this family?

Floyd: Guys, guys, please, calm down.

Branch: Geez, John, I don't know, did not really get the vibes when you said we would go our separate ways after we saved Floyd.

John: Are you still bent down on this? Look, I'm sorry that I said that but things are different now, right? We are together now, so why are still hung up on the past?

Branch: Just because something is in the past doesn't mean it doesn't have any effect on me anymore. And besides, it has been, what, two weeks ago? I wouldn't call it the past yet.

John: Potato, tomato. See, this is your problem: you take things way out of proportions and let your emotions control you.

Bruce: Well, at least he shows his emotions and talks about them, in contrast to someone else.

John: Excuse me?

Bruce: You heard me.

Clay, interrupting their talk since he also was not listening to them, asks the therapist: Is the candle not a fire hazard? Is this even allowed in such an establishment?

Floyd: Guys, please, calm down. We haven't even properly started and we are already fighting with each other. Let's all breathe for just a moment and then resume to talk.

...Silence for a few moments ...

Therapist:....So I see, there is a lot of pent up aggression going on he-

John: NOPE, no! You know what? It has been fun and all but I honestly don't want to be here anymore. So, I'll be taking my leave.

Floyd: John, plea-

John: Floyd, I'm sorry, but I really can't do it. I already know how this whole thing is going to go, therefore, why should I even stick around?

Bruce: Wait, what do you mean by tha-

Branch: Oh, because you know everything, don't you?

John slowly getting irritated with this situation, suddenly stands up and says: Listen he- *THUMP* *CRASH*

But he is interrupted by the sound of the coffee table falling to the ground. He stood up too fast and took the coffee table in his momentum with him, which made it rock back and forth, till it finally hit the ground facing the brothers. But with the coffee table, also the vase and the scented candle came to the ground. The vase bursts into many splinters which fly into the air in various directions. One splinter shoots into John's foot.

At the sight of the first drop of blood coming from his foot, John says: Oh my god, hahaha, look at that..

And passes out.

Floyd: OH MY GOD, JOHN, ARE YOU OK?

Bruce: Ohhhhhh, I remember now. He was always afraid of blood, ever since he was a kid. Did not think, it still bothered him.

Floyd: Didn't he live in the wilderness for 20 years? How did he survive?

Branch: oh my god, OH MY GOD!

Branch rolled off screaming from the couch.

While Bruce and Floyd were busy with John, the scented candle rolled it's way to the couch and ignited it.

Clay: AHA, I KNEW IT. *Clay laughs* I knew it would be a fire hazard. You have some explaining to do, mister. *he pointed his finger at the therapist, smiling*

His smile drops.

Clay:...Oh shit.

Branch: HOW DO WE PUT OUT THE FIRE? WHAT IS EVEN HERE TO PUT OUT A FIRE? *running around frantic, looking for something that would help against the fire*

Floyd: Ok, so we have an unconscious body and a fire going on. Just, d-don't FREAK out, Bruce, and stay calm!

Bruce:...I am calm.

Floyd: I SAID STAY CALM!

Clay:...Is not the first step to dealing with building fires 'Inform people in the immediate area to evacuate'? Well, *turns to the therapist* I think you should be the one to leave and warn people, AND also call 911, as we have a *stares at the unconscious John, the anxious Floyd, the confused Bruce and the frantic Branch running around* situation going on.

The therapist, staring at this whole situation in horror:...I honestly don't get paid enough for this. *flees the scene*

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls #trolls branch #trolls john #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #brozone

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violet-fluff · 11 months

Text

💙 Post War! Levi x Nurse! Reader

Lending a Hand

@quantobono here’s your Levi x Nurse reader!

After the battle against Eren ended, Jean and Connie rushed Levi to the nearest medical tent they could find once they got back into Marley.

“Excuse me! We need help!” Jean yells as he helps Connie drag Levi into your medical tent.

You quickly turn around from your note taking to see the man these guys were carrying barely conscious.

“Oh! Lay him on the bed. What happened to him, do you know?” You ask as you peek out your tent and wave your nursing assistant, Rina, over.

Connie huffs as he tries to catch his breath. “His leg was bitten by a titan.”

You nod as you help Rina set up medical supplies. “What’s his name and who can I return him to?”

“His name is Levi and we’ll be here waiting for him. He’s our captain.” Jean explains.

Rina is cutting off Levi’s pants as you lean over to look at his face. “Hi, Levi. I’m Nurse y/n and I’m going to help take care of you, ok?”

Levi only grumbles as his dull grey eyes try to stay open.

“Quickly, Rina. He’s losing a lot of blood.” You place a glass nozzle attached to a tube over his mouth and nose. “You won’t feel any pain, ok?” You tell him as the gas slowly puts him into a deep sleep.

Some hours pass and Levi groggily wakes up and looks around confusingly. He’s not sure where he is but he sees you sitting at a desk writing something down and tries to speak but his mouth and throat are too dry.

You look up when you hear a noise to see Levi awake and trying to speak. You quickly grab a glass of water with a syringe and kneel next to his bedside.

“I’m going to give you some water.” You explain to him as you fill the syringe with water and slowly dribble it into his mouth.

Levi lets the water coat his mouth and throat and coughs as he tries to swallow.

“I’m Nurse y/n and you’re in my medical tent. Your friends brought you in here so I can treat your leg.” You tell Levi as you wait for him to be able to speak.

“When will you get started?” Is all he is able to croak out.

You giggle softly. “I’m already done! I’ve been done for the past four hours.”

Levi raises a brow in utter confusion.

You smile and remember Jean and Connie said they were all from Paradis Island. The medical technology there isn’t quite up to date as it is everywhere else.

“I gave you an anesthesia. It’s a gas that puts you to sleep so you aren’t conscious during surgery. It’s very convenient for you because it’s like you took a nice nap and woke up with everything done!”

Levi is too tired to understand further so he only nods. “How bad was my leg?”

“Well, it was a pretty deep bite, but luckily you have a lot of muscle that protected the vital arteries in your leg. That would have been really risky to stitch up and I most likely would have had to take your leg. But, fortunately for you, I was able to let you keep your leg! You will need to use a wheelchair for the time being and take physical therapy sessions to strengthen that leg enough to walk again.” You explain.

Levi clicks his tongue. “Great.”

***

About ten months pass by since you’ve been helping Levi. The head nurse appointed you to be Levi’s physical therapist after his wound healed since you already knew about his condition.

Working with Levi is interesting. He has a strong personality with a lot of sarcasm, but you find it oddly charming. The two of you have become quite good friends.

“Leeeeeevi!” You sing as you walk into his house.

He scoffs when he sees you waltz in. “Do you not know what knocking is?” He says as he wheels in from the kitchen.

“You should really…I don’t know…lock the front door then? A murderer can come in.” You say matter of factly.

Levi rolls his eyes. “I think you’re worse than a murderer.”

You fein hurt. “You really just said that? After I got you a nice gift?” You tell him as you hold out a box.

Levi eyes the box suspiciously but takes it. “What is it?”

Rolling your eyes, you wave your hands forward. “Open it and find out!”

Levi opens the box to see three sticks lying next to each other. “Thanks?”

You laugh and grab the sticks. “Watch this.” You snap it forward and the sticks piece together in one long one.

“A new cane?” Levi questions.

“Not just any new cane,” You say excitedly,” but as you saw, you can compact it so it’s easier to carry when not in use. Also, I had them customize the handle.” You put the cane in his hand for him to inspect. “I know it’s a bit difficult for you to use your cane since you have to use your non-dominant hand, but the way this handle was made, you can still use that hand, or you can use your dominant one. It’s missing finger friendly!” You joke.

Levi gave a small smile as he held the cane in his injured hand with ease. “You’re right. It fits perfectly.” He says as he wiggles his three remaining fingers into the grooves. He tries to stand up so he can try the cane out but you notice something.

“Hey, sit back down, sir.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“I can see a stiff knee from a mile away.” You say while squinting your eyes. “Sit and I’ll massage it. Then you can try your nifty toy!”

Levi huffs but does what he’s told. “You would make a fine captain with how bossy you are.”

Grabbing his leg, you feel the stiffness in his knee as you massage. Levi grunts in pain.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You wince as you continue pressing into his knee.

Ten minutes pass and you gently move Levi’s leg around to see it a lot more mobile than what it was. “So much better!”

“Yeah, thanks.” He says sheepishly.

“Did you need to take pain medication?”

Levi looks away embarrassed. “No.”

You and Levi spend the next few hours trying out his new cane and doing more exercises to stretch out his leg.

“Well I think we’re done here!” You clap as Levi plops onto the couch. His eyes widen when he sees you start to pack your supplies.

“Wait! My back really hurts. I think I may have over exerted myself.” He says and tries to stretch his back.

“Well that’s not good.” You frown. “Has your back always hurt after our sessions?”

“No. I guess it just started. But if you could stay until I go to bed just so I don’t risk hurting myself that would be great.”

You smile. “Levi, I know what you’re up to.”

Levi’s face scrunches. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t want me to leave.” You laugh when you see his face turn red. “You can just ask me to stay. I enjoy your company anyway.”

Levi’s heart races as you sit close to him on the couch. “You’re a brat.”

You grin as you lay your head on the back of the couch and just stare at him. Despite the scars crawling across his face and his dead eye, he was very good looking. You couldn’t admit you gained feelings for your patient as it was very unprofessional but you don’t know how much longer you could suppress it.

Levi looked back at you, admiring your beauty. He was never good in this area…love. But since his life was no longer on the line due to titans, he thought why not give love a try. It was like a culture shock when it hit him right away due to you being with him so much.

No words were said as the both of you leaned closer to one another and your lips touched in a gentle kiss. You felt Levi snake an arm around your waist as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Pulling away, you blushed and looked down. “Well, I’m glad the feelings mutual.”

Levi cupped your face to make you look back up at him. “I fell in love with you.”

“I fell in love with you too. But, I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo because I’m also your nurse.” You told him.

“People fall in love in all sorts of ways, right? You don’t have to stop being my nurse though. You give great massages.” He smiled.

You laugh and lean forward to kiss him again.

#levi ackerman #levi aot #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #captain levi #anime #levi x reader #fanfic #violet: levi ackerman oneshot

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smolmakerel · 1 year

Text

"Do you sit down in the shower, Tara?"

Tara blinked in surprised before narrowing her eyes. "What?"

Her new therapist, Abby Turner, was staring at her with a relaxed expression of genuine curiosity. She didn't really look the part of a therapist, sitting there in a yellow cardigan that matched the socks with SpongeBob on them. If anything, she looked a lot like a teacher Tara had in second grade minus the thick rimmed glasses.

"Do you sit down whenever you take a shower?" Abby asked again, shifting to cross her legs. She drew her fingernail over the metal clip of her clipboard.

Still, Tara was taken aback by such a question. She felt oddly seen through.

"Why?" Tara shot back instead.

Abby laughed softly. "There's no need to be defensive. I was going over our notes from last time and thought about what you said."

What she said? What did Tara say, exactly?

"I don't remember saying anything bad," mumbled Tara.

"No, nothing bad. I'm sorry if I made you panic."

At that, Tara hardened her gaze and looked away. Leave it to the therapist to know when her thoughts were spiraling out of control. God, Tara only had 7 sessions with her, and Abby thought she knew everything about Tara.

"It's ok if you do," Abby went on to say. Tara's face soured, and Abby unfortunately caught that. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Another one?" Tara tried to joke, but Abby saw through her facade. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to play 20 questions."

She chuckled awkwardly. "Why do you sit down in the shower?"

"Because... I uh..."

"Take your time."

Tara was at a loss for words. Why did she sit down in the shower? She never really noticed she did it until Abby sent her back with homework to figure out things she noticed about her dailey routine. Which included an hour long shower; Tara would be sitting in the tub allowing the hot water to hit her back. While she sat, tremors would rack her body and her irritation would rise.

"I get in the shower in the morning," Tara explained slowly, still processing her thoughts. "Before class so no one has to see me all... icky."

"And do you think there might be another reason for sitting down?" Abby inquired. "I only ask because of your water bottle comment."

Tara looked unsure at that. She brought her hands to her lap to fidget with her nails. The comfortable gray armchair she sat on never felt more uncomfortable under the watchful eye of her therapist.

"S-Sorry, but I don't remember talking about that."

"That's ok," her therapist assured her. "Last time, you talked about how you needed to clean your room. You have a lot of water bottles on your table and floor, clothes in your bed."

Recognition flashed in Tara's eyes. "Right. Sorry."

"Depression and anxiety after a traumatic event is completely normal, Tara. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't have one of those with what you've been through."

Tara shrugged. "It's nothing. Other people have been through more than me; I'm just being selfish."

Selfish. She had always been selfish; even her own mother thought so, and she made sure to remind Tara anytime she was in town.

Abby wrote something down, nodding to herself as if all of Tara's issues were understandable now.

"I sit on the floor," Tara suddenly said in the uncomfortable silence. She didn't look at her therapist at all, ashamed. "I get so... tired sometimes. And it isn't because of the metal in my leg! It's me! I wake up tired, go through the day angry because of how tired I am, and go to sleep tired. But then I can't sleep and I just..." She huffed in frustration, nails dug into her palms. "I don't know what to do."

Abby leaned back in her chair and flipped her clipboard over on her lap. Her eyes watched Tara's face closely.

"Is there anything you have that could help you sleep?" Abby asked. "A stuffed animal, a nightlight...?"

Tara's mind immediately drifted to her older sister. Sam was strong enough to keep Tara's night terrors away, yet she's soft enough to wrap Tara in her arms and calm her down. No matter how much Tara yells and sobs in her sleep, no matter the bloody scratch marks on her arms, no matter how Tara dissociates to protect herself. Sam was always there.

"No," Tara claimed instead.

Abby cocked her head. "And your sister isn't willing to help you?"

Tara shook her head. "No, she is but... I don't want to bother her with my problems."

Abby flipped her clipboard back over and wrote something down. Tara wanted to chuck the damn thing out the window. She lowered the clipboard again.

"Based on what you've told me about your sister, she sounds like just the person you need at night," Abby pointed out with a soft smile. "I'm sure she'd be willing to help if you asked."

'But I can't!' The words burn acid on Tara's tongue.

"Ok."

Fuck.

[♡♡♡]

Tara raised her hand at Sam's door and drew it into a fist. It hovered in the air for a long few seconds.

Then she knocked.

The door opened not even a second later, and Sam was standing there rubbing her eyes.

"Tara?" Sam mumbled. She instantly woke up, eyes darting over Tara looking for some sort of injury. "Are you ok? What are you doing up right now?"

"Can... Can I sleep in here with you?" Tara asked and before Sam could respond, she was babbling. "I'm sorry if I woke you up with this. Fuck, I'm so stupid. This was a mistake, I didn't mean to wake you up with my stupid problems. I-I'll go back to my room. Sorry -"

"Tara."

Tara's breathing hitched when Sam gently cupped her face, and - Oh. That was actually kind of nice. She sank into the warmth of Sam's palms.

"Let's go to bed, ok?" Sam whispered.

Tara nodded, throat thick with emotion. "Ok."

It was about 20 minutes later when they were settled in Sam's bed. Tara was dozing off finally, face buried into Sam's chest as her arms wrapped around her.

She stirred slightly when Sam kissed the top of her head. Her fingers tucked a few strands of hair out of Tara's face.

"I love you, Tara," Sam muttered.

Tara, too exhausted to say anything, simply turned her head and kissed Sam on the palm. She settled back down and relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

#scream #scream 2022 #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #I was tempted to make the therapist bad but then I thought of my therapist and how nice she is and thought “better not”#They're so soft for each other #I'm still figuring out how to write them tbh #So enjoy while I'm working on breaking your hearts in my next post #Tara learning how to ask for help after everything #She trusts Sam but doesn't trust herself #And it's all because of Christina fucking Carpenter #Fuck Christina Carpenter #My writing

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zerokrox-blog · 9 months

Text

The first few times it happens, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Steve had a long day at work, plus he had been feeling pretty down lately so upon coming home and finding his boy on the couch, face and body lax in a deep restful sleep, Eddie tugged a blanket over him, kissed his forehead, flicked off a light and slipped out of the room.

But by the fifth time where he found Steve asleep in the laundry room curled up on the cold floor, he began to worry. It wasn't like Steve too sleep this much but more worryingly, even if he had seemingly slept well the night before he was sleeping wherever and whenever. Eddie was concerned.

When he brought it up with their Doctor all he got was "it doesn't have to be anything. I can assure you, Steve is in great health..but since you're so worried I'll set it up for him to get some blood tests and we will go from there."

Eddie felt off about it. He brought it up to Wayne, Nancy, Robin, Joyce and Hopper but nobody had any idea why or what was causing Steve to fall asleep every where. But one thing they all noticed was that Steve only seemed to sleep like that around the apartment Eddie and he shared or when Eddie was home or coming home.

Eventually even the bloodwork came back clean with nothing to explain what was happening. So Eddie in concern brought it up o their couple's therapist, Dr Angela Bradley.

"I am worried about Steve," he started, "he keeps falling asleep every where and nobody seems to know why, the bloodwork and other test results came back with nothing to explain why he keeps falling asleep."

Dr Bradley paused her note taking, Steve was sipping his tea, but had stopped to listen to what Eddie was saying when his name had been mentioned.

"Steve? do you know why you are falling asleep constantly?" she kept her voice soft.

Steve shook his head for a minute before pausing to think. "I feel safe around Eddie. I feel safe in the home and space we built," he was speaking slowly working out his thought process, "I also don't usually sleep well in my parents house, but I don't really know why I'm sleeping so much. "

"Well, Steve let me ask you a question, when you're with your parents or at their house how do you feel?"

"Small and unsafe. I have to be on guard because inevitably one or both of them will get mad."

"Ok, and with Eddie at your home you said you feel safe? Around the people you've chosen as family as well you feel secure?"

Steve nodded, then suddenly he sat up straighter, "Eddie! I think I'm sleeping more because I can. My body isn't survival mode or flight or fright anymore. Like I can breathe again." Eddie blinked, "I make you feel safe? So you feel comfortable sleeping more around me?" Steve nodded, "so it's not a medical emergency? You're ok?"

Steve nodded again, feeling like he had hit the nail on the head. He was feeling safe and comfortable that his body was catching up on what it needed for years. He felt tears filling his eyes but tried desperately to keep them in, he didn't want to cry right now.

But later on, when they got home, Eddie dropped him off at their place and went to pick up their dinner from their favourite deli shop. Eddie also grabbed some flowers, drinks and snacks from the grocery store and drove home.

When he saw Steve sitting up and dozing on the recliner, he smiled, "hi babylove. Dinner is ready."

He made his boy feel safe and comfortable. He knew it was important for Steve to feel secure and he made him feel that way.

#zerowrites #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve and eddie #steve is slowly feeling safer #he and eddie built themselves a safe place

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toasttt11 · 4 months

Text

hair

May 23, 2025

Kensington has been back home in Michigan for almost two weeks now and Will had just come a few days ago and Ryan and Gabe were joining in a few days.

Kensington could feel her self slowly healing not only physically but mentally, she spent a lot of her days doing physical therapy and going to therapy as well.

She didn’t realize how much of a break she needed from hockey and she had a feeling she’s going to love the sport even more when she gets back on the ice but for now she’s okay being off the ice for a few months.

Kensington was still holding onto quite a bit of guilt over everything that happen the last season and she just can not seem to be able to let some things go, her therapist suggest a change to have a fresh start.

Kensington used her crutches coming out of her appointment to the car where her mom was waiting for her.

Kensington slowly sat down in the passenger seat, “Hi Mama.” She kissed her mom’s cheek.

“Hi sweetheart how did everything go?” Elena smiled softly loving how her daughter seems to becoming more and more herself.

“Good.” Kensington nodded and looked at her mother, “Do you have anything to do now?”

“No i’m free why?” Ellen asked as she started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

“I uh was wondering if you could take me to the hair salon?” Kensington softly asked.

“You want to cut your hair?” Ellen questioned surprised as her daughter as always loved her long hair.

“I want a fresh start.” Kensington smiled at her mother.

“Ok.” Ellen smiled back quickly agreeing and driving to the salon they go to instead of going straight home.

Ellen parked the car in front of the salon and got out of the car, Kensington followed behind her mother using her crutches.

Ellen got Kensington all signed in with a stylist and let one of the employees guide Kensington to one of the salon chairs so she could sit down.

“Hi, I’m Tori.” A younger woman with bright red hair came over shaking Kensington’s hand.

“Kensington.” Kensington introduced herself smiling.

“So what are we doing with your hair today.” Tori asked as she touched Kensington’s hair.

“Chop it all off.” Kensington bluntly said with an excited smile.

“All of it.” Tori asked and Kensington gestured to right by her ears, “Okay let’s wash your hair and then we can get started.”

Kensington nodded and crunched her way over to the sink bowls and sat down leaning her head back and closed her eyes relaxing as she got her hair washed.

Kensington got back up after she got her hair washed and went back to the other chair and sat back down.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her hair being cut off and she could literally feel the weight coming off as her hair continued to be cut.

“Okay all done.” Tori told her with a smile.

Kensington opened her eyes and a smile spread across her face as she saw her hair and she lifted her hand up feeling how light her hair feels now.

Her therapist was right. It felt like she got rid of so much bad memories and feelings.

Kensington thanked the hair stylist and crutched her way out to the waiting room where her mom is waiting.

Ellen looked up at the sound of crutches and gasped seeing her hair, “Oh my it looks so beautiful.” Ellen smiled as she stood up and gently touched her daughter’s hair.

Kensington giddy smiled at her mom and Ellen softened seeing her daughter become a little more herself again.

They got back into the car and headed back to home.

Ellen walked into the house first with Kensington behind her.

“Was everything okay?” Jim asked in concern when Ellen walked in and Kensington stayed outside the living room and they were back over a hour later than usual form therapy so it concerned the boys.

“Evening is fine.” Ellen reassured, “Kens has a surpise.” Ellen got the attention of the rest of the boys in the living room who were playing a video game together.

Kensington crutched into the living room seeing her dad, brothers and boyfriend all there and she grinned a little.

Will choked slightly as his eyes widen, he has always absolutely loved her long hair but he might change her short hair to his favorite.

Jack smiled getting up and walking over and gently touching her hair, “It looks very good K.”

“Thanks Jacky.” Kensington beamed.

“It suits you well.” Quinn softly complimented he thought the short hair looked very good on her.

“Not bad.” Luke smirked teasingly and Jack who was walking back to the couch smacked the back of Luke’s head making Kensington snicker.

Jim gave her an approving nod.

Jack teasingly nudged Will seeing him staring at Kensington with star eyes and his jaw half open.

Will shook his head snapping out of his day dream and got up and walked over to Kensington and saw her slighty nervous face for his reaction.

“I have a new favorite hair style of yours.” Will softly mused as he curled one of her short strands around his finger malign her beam happily at him with rosy cheeks.

Will leaned down pressing a soft and slow kiss to her cheek and softly mumbling to only her, “You look absolutely beautiful my gray.”

Kensington’s cheeks flashed darker and she hid her face against his shoulder feeling him chuckling.

Will chuckled fondly but brought Kensington over to the couch and helping her sit down slowly and setting her crutches onto the floor and and slipping her sandals off for her before plopping down onto the spot next to her.

Will wrapped an arm around her shoulder making her cuddle closer to him and rest her head on his chest.

“I love you.” Kensington softly mumbled to her boyfriend and best friend.

“I love you too.” Will smiled softly mumbling back kissing the top of her head as he gently rubbed her back.

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sysmedsaresexist · 4 months

Note

What you're doing is incredibly brave. We really appreciate the risk you're taking sharing your journey. It's awesome to see someone so vocal and with such reach openly change their stance.

We wanna know some of your thoughts about something you've been saying in all of this, about CDDs being separate from endogenic plurality. Specifically, your thoughts on when the two do meet. Like, endogenic systems that get traumatized and develop CDD symptoms? Or CDD systems that practice headmate creation, and find created headmates working like the rest of their system? Or folks in either category that relate a lot with those in the other?

We're curious because we exist in that in-between; a system with DID due to trauma, but that doesn't view our plurality itself as coming from trauma.

And if you're not at all interested in that area of overlap, or in sharing those thoughts, no worries! Have a great day!

This is a pretty nuanced ask and each mod has a different view on things, so we'll all answer!

Mod Signal: I believe that endogenic plurality and the plurality found in CDD systems works differently, but that intersection you're talking about can exist. The majority of resources for CDD systems involve how to deal with trauma and different alters reactions to it. If an endogenic system goes through some shit and gets trauma later in life, and can get use out of grounding guides, or how to deal with flooding, I say use those guides (and literally anyone can improve their mental health from therapy as long as the therapist. You know. Isn't a cunt.) That being said. There are also endos who are very certain they're endos when they may have.... a bit more trauma than they thought. And that's normal. Incredibly so. But endogenic communities can lead to a bit more harm than good occasionally with those systems if they insist that the system in question isn't or couldn't be a cdd system, or encourages them not to look into resources on how to deal with trauma.

As far as purposefully created alters, they absolutely exist, and I know CDD systems that have created alters with it going ok, and CDD systems who have been *horribly* hurt trying. I've seen some tulpamancy guides out there that made me wince the whole time I've read them. Not because they're cringy, but because any time a CDD system fucks around with purposeful dissociation, it's Incredibly easy to fuck yourself up by accident. Even some guides to meditation can be harmful to systems if you don't go slowly and pay attention to your body (something that's already very, very easy to ignore if your system, like mine, is made of 90% pain holders lol).

It's for that reason that i haven't changed my pinned intro as "endo-neutral". I dont doubt endogenic plurality at all, but I still find a lot of critiques in the way the two communities mix. The labels are fucked anyway lol so. I dont know what label would best fit that stance. The problem does seem to be slowly fixing itself though. I'm happy that a lot of endos are leaning away from terms used by CDD systems. I view these problems for the most part as growing pains that will smooth themselves over as plurality in general becomes more accepted and more research about both sets of systems comes out.

Mod Quill: I’m feel like that’s a great jumping off point for me, someone who is so weird with syscourse that labels don’t fit me. I believe in endogenic plurality, I really do, but I also know this community has done so much harm to CDDs and vice versa. Part of me wants everyone to go to time out corners and think about what they’ve done.

In terms of the overlap between endogenic and CDD systems… I think defining it, at this point, is frankly meaningless, particularly for the reasons Signal stated. There’s so many endogenic systems who are actually CDD systems. On one hand, I want them to be able to access CDD spaces because, well, they have a CDD… but on the other, as someone who’s been horrifically damaged by endogenic spaces, who has spread a lot of misinformation and been fed a lot of misinformation due to those experiences… I’m wary of letting someone like that into a highly fucking traumatized space. (But I also have feelings about CDD spaces in general…)

At the end of the day, I feel like it’s not my place to draw that line. It’s up to each individual and their own system where they draw the line, and so long as it’s in-line with current understandings of CDDs and they don’t speak their personal experiences as if they’re gospel truth for all systems, I have no issues. If someone says they have endogenic DID (as in, they formed DID with absolutely no trauma), it’s not my place to directly confront that person and tell them that’s not possible; but if they shout from the heavens about how people are ignoring the truth, I’m going to post the truth as I know it, with sources to back it up.

The same goes for this overlap. A system who says “Hey, I have created alters, and I’m a DID system, and those things overlap?” Cool! Awesome! That’s actually my type of system. A system who goes, “Therefore, DID systems should split new alters for the benefits it has”? Allow me to traumadump about how my system completely destabilized due to that practice. The overlap is there, but it’s not for me to define for others; not unless they make their experiences universal.

Mod Robo: Oh boy, I have a lot of Thoughts on all of these questions! It's stuff I think about often. I love talking about all the in-betweens and overlaps, and I'd love to hear about your experiences too. Unfortunately, I don't think I can jam all of my thoughts in this post (it's already long enough) so I'll just talk about your first question.

First off, I want to say that I don't think it's all that unusual for someone with a CDD to feel like they've always been plural, even before their CDD. Of course, spiritual beliefs can play a role in that. Let's put spiritual reasonings aside though and look at it from a purely psychological view. It's our belief that all of our alters -- everything that can be them, will become them, etc. -- it's all there from the start. We don't believe that alters come out of a vacuum. All of my alters were born the day our body was born. Many of us did not exist as alters yet, but the foundation for us existed!

To give a personal example: some of us have memories of childhood that predate our existence as alters. These memories predate our knowledge of being a system or having DID. We've wondered how it's possible to have memories that predate our existence as alters. How is it possible for several alters to have these same memories, and feel as if it's their own but also not? How is it possible that we can't really attribute "who" those memories belong to other than just...us? All of us? It didn't fit into the mainstream idea that alters are supposed to be these distinct, clear-cut people sharing a body, with separate memories and no overlap, no utterance of our existence before becoming a separate alter.

Children aren't born with an integrated self. You probably know the whole spiel -- the mind integrates as you get older, blah blah blah. So, in our opinion, we were never not plural. We had an unintegrated mind full of parts as a child, and we grew up into an adult with an unintegrated mind full of parts and eventually a DID diagnosis.

I get that some people don't see themselves as existing before their CDD and that's okay, I understand that. I also relate to that, in a way! It can be weird to consider because you as the alter didn't exist until later on. But you as the brain did, if that makes sense.

All that being said, I believe that "endogenic CDDs" are a completely separate concept from "endogenic systems with CDDs." CDDs are diagnoses -- they have specified symptoms, diagnostic criteria, and treatment. Diagnoses are not people. You are. That's why plurality is such an incredibly personal thing, after all. We're literally talking about your own mind. Your self/selves. Your internal reality. No duh there are gonna be people who conceptualize and talk about it in different ways. Like, I firmly believe that's NEVER going to be clear cut and easy to understand.

OG Dude: First, I have to say, thank you to my mods. Their responses are fantastic, I support all of them. I brought them all in pretty early, and I wouldn't be where I am without them. Their pro/endo patience while I went back and forth, screamed and yelled... I love them. I love that they saw the good in me and decided to help me run this blog.

I agree with all that they said. For clarity sake, I'll give my own thoughts, even if they overlap or repeat.

I've posted from the beginning about how a lot of things that endogenic systems talked about were actually really normal in DID systems. Created alters, characters that take on life, MADD, loving your system, dysfunction in different areas of life, on and on. I think there's more intersection than a lot of people realize, but I really like how Robo talked about personal views. It took a really long time to realize that people defining their experiences in different ways isn't necessarily a bad thing, though it's unfortunate that sometimes this confuses systems that are still learning.

Yelling and screaming isn't going to help, though. There's another ask coming, this one about my thoughts on sophie, that I think will tie into this point and expand on it a lot more, so for now, I'll move on.

I don't have all the answers. I think CDDs are something extremely specific-- I think in a few more years, diagnosis will involve brain scans, biomarkers, and we'll be able to say with a lot more certainty where that line is, and what's different.

For now, I think I've learned that the best thing I can do for myself, and everyone else, endo or CDD, is just keep pumping out information.

A couple users on here are really good examples of these lines. They have CPTSD, PTSD, whatever else they've got going on, but they still hold the belief that their plurality and CPTSD are unrelated. It took a long time to come to terms with balancing respect for that self-determination, and my expectations of technology and the specificity of CDDs (meaning like, specific biomarkers).

In the end, I realized that it boiled down to, "are people getting the help they need?" Because in the end, that's all that matters, and if someone doesn't think they need help, why am I arguing? If someone does, who am I to keep them from resources?

What if that technology doesn't reach the mainstream, what if it's decades before it's refined enough to be financially feasible in diagnosis? What if people come out with the exact same brain structure as someone with DID and still refuse to admit that the plurality is related?

Well, shit, I don't know, but I'm guessing the answer is still going to be, "Don't yell at them, respect their self-determination."

I still firmly believe that plurality and CDDs are different things. I think that treatment for CPTSD and PTSD are different, and many endos without longterm, repetitive trauma in childhood have PTSD, and would benefit more from those spaces and resources than CDD/CPTSD spaces. However, I also admit that a general PTSD space isn't going to be prepared for the complex interplay of plurality and PTSD. All that said, it's not my job to tell someone which they have, my job should be to present information on both to everyone and let people come to their own conclusions.

It's hard, but it's a skill I'm still trying to learn. Seeing more people talk about their experiences is probably the only thing that's going to help make it easier.

#syscourse #syscourse stance #mod signal #mod quill #mod robo #mod dude #team effort #also mod dude would like to apologize if his part seemed to cut off suddenly #he got distracted by a piece of shit floating down an otherwise pristine river

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the-wiggler · 6 months

Text

I hope we kiss goodnight, it might just end my life

phyiscally cannot stop thinking about elliot and sunshine and im projecting bad in this fic but shhhh im allowed to.

sypnosis: sunshine cant sleep, except when elliot is around. [title is from Kiss Goodnight by IDKHOW]

word count: 1.1k

Their eyes slowly fluttered open, blue morning light washing over their room, tinting everything in the same hue. They were facing the ceiling now, their blanket tangled between their legs. 6 am. Their eyes fluttered shut, a weary sigh filling the empty room. That was what…2 hours of sleep? It’s better this way. Force themselves to sleep later, the self-induced insomnia meant that their brain prioritises deep sleep over REM, the dream-having sleep phase. That was what their therapist said anyway. Less sleep means less REM means less dreams means less nightmares.

Sure, it was an “unhealthy” coping mechanism, with its “averse” side effects, and a method their therapist “highly discouraged”. But if it meant fewer nightmares, Sunshine would brave the sluggishness, the irritation, the occasional nausea and the concerned looks from their friends.

Like now, as they sat on the worn, soft couch of Elliot’s apartment. Sinking into the worse-for-wear leather, scratched and faded in a way that perfectly matched Elliot’s second-hand-vintage-found-on-the-side-of-the-road-borderline-trash-esque design choices, they avoided the watchful gaze of their friend and hoped that their concealer had done a good enough job to cover their eyebags.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I think you look amazing as you are, Sunshine,” He chuckled, settling down next to them, “But, uh, you’re looking a little….worse for wear.”

Ok so maybe the concealer wasn’t doing the best job.

They waved their hand dismissively, making up some excuse about jobs, life, busy this, busy that, no time to rest. It came easily now. Lying, that is. And it wasn’t really a lie, they had filled and jam-packed their schedule full of random events to avoid a moment of rest, should they accidentally slip back into the ever-inviting embrace of sleep.

Not good enough for Elliot, though. As they watched his brow furrow in a way that made them want to instinctively smooth out, they racked their brain to reassure Elliot. There was, after all, no need to pile on more shit to Elliot’s plate.

“I’ve just been having trouble sleeping is all,” They reassured him quickly, “Nothing to worry about, I got some melatonin pills and it’s just taking some time to get used to.”

He conceded with one last concerned look, before turning his attention to the TV. “Alright, so, I was thinking for tonight, we could watch…The Tunnel? Or….Final Prayer?”

Now it was their turn to quirk an eyebrow. “You want to watch a horror movie? Mr. Never Watched FNAF, Mr. Scared of the Babadook, Mr-”

“Ok listen, I think we both know that the 4th FNAF game is genuinely horrifying. And, well, no, I’d much rather watch an actually feel-good movie. But if my bestest friend of all time has been raving about how wonderful this movie is, and has been feeling down, I will concede and watch whatever mind-fucky content you so eagerly consume as a coping mechanism. I’m simply fulfilling my best friend duties. No matter how messed up it is. And I will ignore how the fact that you watch horror movies as a coping mechanism is a major red flag and possibly a sign of a budding serial killer. Because I’m such a good friend. The best, even. ”

They scoff indignantly, “Ok, yeah I’m the serial killer. Says the one whose forever excuse is Sorry, was burying the bodies.”

It always starts like this. As Elliot loads up the movie, they make sure to maintain a completely platonic distance between them, two friends sitting on a couch, five feet apart because they are not pining for their ridiculously attractive, soft-hearted best friend. Elliot scoots closer, the leather dipping under his weight, forming a crater around them, cocooning them together, pushing Elliot closer to them. They feign annoyance as Elliot shoots a mischievous look at them. “Oh don’t think you’re getting away scot-free, Sunshine. I might be sacrificing several nights of sleep to cheer you up, but you’re going to be my human shield tonight. Trade-offs.”

Despite this, he wraps an arm around them, the dip of the couch pushing them snugly into his side. Who’s protecting who, Elliot? Regardless, they lean into his touch, his hand gently moving up and down their arm.

They blink.

The blanket around them definitely did not belong to them, but smelled familiarly comforting in a way that broke down all of Sunshine’s defences. Half asleep and not fully cognizant of their surroundings, they push themself deeper into the blanket burrow around them, instinctually chasing the fuzzy feeling of slowly waking up in the morning after a good, solid, rejuvenated night of sleep.

“Morning sleepyhead.” A familiarly husky voice; and the words don’t register, nothing but the groggy understanding that this voice emanated safety, understanding, and protection pulled Sunshine out of their dazed state. They push themselves up, rubbing their eyes to see Elliot standing there, morning hair unruly, beaming down at them. “You zonked out last night on my couch.”

Too groggy to come up with a retort, they lean into him as he sits next to them. He makes a noise of surprise, but otherwise lifts his arm to allow them to press into his side. “You’re oddly snuggly Sunshine,” He chuckles, pulling them closer, “And you fall asleep every time we hang out, am I that boring?” They half-heartedly slap his chest, feeling his chuckles reverberate through them. They sit there, in silence, simply enjoying the slow mornin in each others presence before Elliot clears his throat awkwardly.

“Anyways, uh, how was your sleep last night?”

“Good,” They mumble, “Slept well.” No nightmares, no dreams at all, actually rested. Better than they had all month

“That’s uh-that’s good.”

“Only ever sleep well when you’re around.” Still sleep-addled and fueled by the simple wants of the heart, they bring their arms to wrap around his torso, mumbling sleepily against his chest, “Maybe you’re magic.”

As they drift off back into a dreamless sleep, Elliot’s hands move to pull them in closer. Pressing a kiss to the crown of their head, he whispers, his voice impossibly soft, yearning dripping from his words, “Just for you, Sunshine.”

#redacted elliot #elliot redacted #redacted asmr #redacted audio #the balance redacted #no. 1 fan of reuniting elliot and sunshine PLEASE #fuck wlse do u tag lmfaoooo #silly writing stuff: redacted edition #yapping about elliot #my humble offerings

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jenniferjareauwife · 6 months

Note

I’m in my depressed era, so I would love to read about JJ helping her teenage daughter with a restrictive eating disorder <3

I Feel Like I Can't Eat

pairing: jennifer jareau x daughter reader

category: hurt/comfort

warnings: eating disorder

word count: 942

age: 15

summary: you've been struggling with an eating disorder and your mom notices so she helps you

a/n: i am too in my depressive era and am a hoe for hurt/comfort <3

I bit my lip as I stared at the food in front of me. This was the first time I was eating a meal with my mom in two months due to her crazy work schedule and my sports schedule.

"Do you not like it?" My mom asked softly. "I can make you something else." It was a new dish so I knew she would most likely buy the excuse.

"Yeah...sorry mom." She shook her head, signaling not to apologize before kissing my temple and putting my bowl on the kitchen counter for later.

"Y/n?" She asked as she opened the fridge.

"Yeah?"

"Why is the fridge full?"

"Because I went shopping." I said quickly.

"There's no new food in here." I felt my heart beat quickly. She knew. Of course she knew she was a profiler for the fucking BAU and I was her daughter she knew me like the back of her hand. She knew. "What's with the anxious face?"

"Mom..." I trailed off as she walked towards me with a fruit smoothie. "I'm not hungry." I could tell by her face that she wasn't buying it.

"Baby...I need you to talk to me."

"About what?"

"Don't play dumb, ok? I'm sorry that I haven't been here for a while, I'm really sorry about that. I love spending time with you and I love you more than anything. You know that right?" I nodded and leaned forward as she placed a kiss on my forehead. "But just because I've been gone doesn't mean that I haven't noticed things, ok? Now I need you to tell me what's going on so I can help." She reached for my hand and squeezed it in reassurance.

"I just..." I paused for a second, trying to figure out how to get the words out, thankfully she was patient with me. "I don't know...I just feel like I can't..."

"Cant what baby?" I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. She put her hand on my back and rubbed it slowly.

"I feel like I can't eat." It came out as a whisper.

"Can you elaborate on that honey?"

"It's not that I don't like food...I mean I still like food...I think." It took me a few seconds to string together a sentence. "I just...I can't do it. Because it's so bad for me- mom I'm losing weight! I've wanted that for so long, you know that! And I'm finally getting it but after I'm done working out I get hungry but when I look at food I just get..."

"Nauseous? Anxious?" She finished my thoughts for me and I nodded. "So you still want to eat? You just feel like you can't?" I shrugged. "I can't help if you don't tell me everything baby."

"When I stopped eating I saw how much weight I was losing and I...I just stopped. It wasn't even the intentional at first but it really works, it really helps me lose weight but now I'm just...I'm scared to gain any weight back." I explained. "And I know it's bad, I know but whenever I go to take a bite of something it's like every cell in my body is screaming at me to stop and I can't fight past it." I took a shallow breath and clasped my hands together.

"Hey. Deep breaths." She told me softly, rubbing my back again, sighing as she felt how skinny I had gotten. "It's ok baby, just deep breaths, ok?" I leaned against her and hugged her arm.

"Do you want me to call your therapist? Tell her you need to start seeing her again?" I shrugged.

"I don't know if I want to do that yet."

"But don't you think it would be good to have someone to talk to?" She pointed out but I didn't say anything. She got the hint that I really didn't want to go to my therapist again so she just gave my knee a soft squeeze. "Well what can I do to help?" Her voice was unbelievably soft.

"Be here?" I shrugged and my eyes widened as I realized what I said. I knew how guilty she felt for never being here and I didn't want to make her feel bad, I didn't even mean it that way.

"Ok. Done. I'll take a month off, ok?"

"But-"

"Hey, no buts. I just want to make sure you're ok. You're my daughter honey I want to help you in any way I can." I nodded and squeezed her arm tighter. "You can come to me for anything, ok? I want you to know that y/n." I nodded. "Come here." She pulled me into her arms in a tight hug, something I had needed from her for months but was too scared to ask for.

After a few minutes she tried to pull away from the hug but I didn't let her. "I need you." I whispered.

"Ok. I'm not going anywhere." She assured me. "I love you so much y/n." She slowly rocked us back and forth, knowing that it calmed me down. "Starting tomorrow you're gonna eat at least two meals a day, ok?"

"Mom-"

"No protests. You need nutrition to survive honey. I'm not going to be lenient with this, ok? I need you to eat food. You need to eat food." She stroked my hair. "You can always talk to me about anything but I will be a hardass about you eating, ok?" I nodded, that seemed fair. If I had a kid I would do the same thing. "I love you kiddo."

"I love you too mom."

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #x reader #x daughter reader #jennifer jareau x reader #x daughter!reader

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kitkatsudon · 9 months

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KitKat reads the TKEM Novel: Chapter 2

That night, a broken flute

So. Chapter 2. If you haven’t guessed already by the title of this chapter, it covers the topic of that fateful night back in 1994, when Lee Lim kills Lee Ho, little Gon comes in, gets traumatised, they both leave with half of the Manpasikjeok, etc etc. That’s kind of… the first half of this chapter? The whole chapter is definitely affected by this, but after this there are two more scenes in this chapter: one where Gon is looking at Taeeul’s ID card in his Alice in Wonderland book (notably skipping over “Are you having fun, Captain Jo?” and that subsequent conversation between Gon and Yeong which is one of my personal favourite scenes, but anyway. They do reference it, but it’s not the same), and then the scene where Gon is at the stables, he hears the sound of the flute, and he runs away on Maximus and goes into the portal.

My first thought? Not enough Yeong. Again. For real this time. Yeong has one line of dialogue, and that’s just a radio call to Hopil and the others to chase after Gon, there’s no new insights about Yeong in this chapter, absolutely nothing. And I know, I know that I can’t really judge a chapter like this on its Yeong content when none of these scenes contained Yeong in the first place, but like… they could have included that conversation between Gon and Yeong in Gon’s study? Instead, the allusion to it we get is this:

Why didn’t ‘he’ who saved him come back? Wasn’t it worth coming to see him at least once?

Yeong said that he didn’t come because Gon had grown up so well that he didn’t need anyone’s help, but Gon wanted to ask, ‘didn’t he want to come and see how well he had grown up?’

There it is, folks! That’s all we’re getting! And look… it’s easy enough to tell from the scene in the show that Gon isn’t really satisfied with Yeong’s answer, but a part of me does feel disappointed that this heartfelt conversation between those two in the first episode was boiled down to this in the book. None of the tenderness, none of the warmth, just “idc yeongie i still want to see my saviour :/.” And then… hoo boy. I can already tell that this book is going to test my patience as someone who is not particularly a taegon enjoyer, because a few paragraphs down we get this absolute gem.

The government ID in his hand was the only trace he had left behind, and it was a question. Every day, Gon would ask the woman on the card, ‘Do you know why he saved me? Why I survived?’ Thanks to this, the woman had become a habit for him. After twenty-five years, she was more familiar than anyone else. For Gon, it was comforting. Before he knew it, she had become the reason he was alive.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry, whAT?! The reason he was alive? His reason for living?? More familiar than anyone else????? Bestie… she is a piece of plastic!!! As far as you know right now!!!!! If this is your reason for living… Gon, blink twice if you need to see a therapist. Oh, wait, hang on, this reminds me of another passage in this chapter…

Was he really dead? Suddenly, he felt a surge of doubt.

Maybe it was because that night, twenty-five years ago, was still so vivid. The stickiness of stepping through the blood of innocents, the smell of blood that stung his nostrils. The pain of the strangulation, the thinning of his breath. The sight of his father’s lifeless body in front of him. The underlying dread, the fear. The emotions were as sharp as the sensations.

However, now that Gon was the king, they were emotions he couldn’t show anyone. Walking slowly to his desk, Gon composed himself as he sat down. The good news was that he wasn’t weak enough to be consumed by the memories of that day.

Oh, well, that’s ok then! Don’t worry everyone! Gon is fine, actually! Sure, he still has very vivid memories of that awful night, he still hates people touching his body, he can’t wear a tie without getting flashbacks to that night, he doesn’t feel like he can share this with anyone because of his status as the king, but don’t worry! He’s not so weak that he’s super affected by this or anything, that would be totally cringe.

Gon, I’m going to say this once again, blink twice if you need to see a therapist. Because this… my god. That’s an unhealthy thought pattern if I’ve ever heard one. I think the show wants the solution to this to be “gon is fine enough to be a great boyfriend, but if he ever does need to talk to anyone, this will only ever be taeeul because he the king to her.” What I’m hearing, however, is “gon needs to trust his loved ones, and learn to be comfortable with the fact that he’s both the king and a person, and he needs to be comfortable with communicating with people like yeong and lady noh and prince buyeong who have loved him for a very long time and want gon the person to be alright.” Like… surely the message here isn’t just that Gon can never ever trust anyone from the Kingdom with his emotions, right? Where’s the growth there? Finding someone from another universe is the most convoluted loophole in this situation, when he could just like… talk to his best friend? Even if that’s hard for him, growth is hard! But it’s important!

But *ahem* anyway, sorry, this is meant to be about the novel, not my wider thoughts about the show in general…

You might be wondering, hey KitKat, you said that this chapter was half about the night of the treason, so why haven’t you spoken about that? And that… is because I don’t really have that much to say? It’s mostly just an action sequence, there aren’t really any character moments that made me like !!!!, like the other parts did. The main detail is that it really hammers in the detail that Lee Lim feels unfairly treated because of the nature of his birth. He’s jealous of his brother and his nephew for being born into a life where they never really had to struggle.

Actually, you know what? I am going to share this paragraph, purely so I can go on another side tangent.

Prince Imperial Geum. Lee Lim was crowned Prince Imperial Geum at the age of thirteen. He was the firstborn son, but his mother died before she could become queen, and she was posthumously declared a noblewoman. So, his younger brother, who knew nothing and was only good, became the king.

Now, let’s do some maths, shall we? Both Lee Lim and Lee Ho have confirmed dates of birth in the show. Lee Lim was born on 27th February 1951, and Lee Ho was born on 23rd October 1952. (Another fun fact is that Gon’s mother was born on 8th August 1965, so when Gon was born on 28th October 1987, his mother was 22 and his dad was 35, and I know that age gap relationships can be perfectly consensual and loving but man… I can’t deny that something there feels a little bit icky… but anyway.) Assuming neither Lee Ho nor Lee Lim were born prematurely, this implies that Lee Lim was conceived in May 1950, and Lee Ho was conceived in January 1952. If their father, King Haejong, was doing everything by the book, if Lee Lim’s mother was his official partner, and the earliest that she died was 27th February 1951, this means that King Haejong moved on from this love of his life to get to the baby-making stage with Lee Ho’s mother in less than a year. It’s… plausible? But if Lee Ho was legitimate, then King Haejong and his new partner had to be married somewhere between February 1951 and October 1952, and it would have had to have been a big royal wedding with a lot of planning, and… mmmMH I don’t want to make any conclusions, because there are a few explanations for this quick timeline and it’s much more fun if this is left up to individual interpretation, but what I am pretty sure on is that this situation with King Haejong and his lovers wasn’t as simple as “:( lee lim’s poor mother died before she could be made the queen.” It’s giving… less tragic, more scandal, somewhere on this timeline. Either way, I am narrowing my eyes at you, King Haejong.

Mmmh… anything else? Maybe this:

In the Cheonjongo scene, Yoo Gyeongmu, Lee Lim’s second in command, says to him that they need to leave because the “Golden Army” is coming. In the official English subs on Netflix, this is just translated as Royal Guard, BUT it’s definitely a different word. Royal Guard, in the book, has always been 근위대, but Yoo Gyeongmu specifically refers to a certain 금군, and this had specific Hanja next to it in the book, so it must be a thing. What is this Golden Army? Will it be referenced again, other than in this scene? It’s not a code name, little Gon also thinks to himself that his saviour is leaving because the Golden Army is on their way. Is it a specific task force within the Royal Guard? If so, what do they do?? I have a horrible suspicion that we’ll never know.

Oh, and one more thing before I bullet point exactly what we’ve learnt from this chapter.

It was said that the prince was a prodigy, a genius who could read, write, and do mathematics at an early age.

*quietly adds ‘hyperlexia’ next to ‘savant mathematical abilities’ onto my imaginary list of evidence of gon being autistic*

That post will come eventually. But not for a while.

So!! What have we learnt in chapter two?

Somewhere on the palace grounds, vaguely near Cheonjongo, is a gingko tree!

Where Lee Lim was described as being bold and cruel, Lee Ho was described as having a “cool temperament that could be considered weak.” Even if Lee Ho isn’t in my good books for getting a 21 year old pregnant when he was 34, that still feels kind of mean.

Cheonjongo was home to “various treasures, from crowns to cash, ceramics to swords, treasures handed down from generation to generation.”

The current Captain of the Royal Guard died that night, stepping in front of Lee Ho.

The Netflix subs miss out Lee Ho saying something that roughly translates to “What the heck?!” before he asks “Brother, what do you think you’re doing?” which is something that I wish they’d kept in.

When Lee Lim killed his brother, he was happy to prove that Lee Ho was weaker than him.

Gon was commended as a little genius, and this is the only measure by which Lee Lim thinks he might be better than his father. That doesn’t change the fact that Lee Lim still has to kill him, though.

Even in that horrible moment, and despite Gon being seven years old internationally, he was actively thinking about strategy, wanting to strike Lee Lim with the Four Tiger Sword while he was laughing, because it was a moment of weakness.

Lee Lim got his royal title when he was thirteen, Korean age, so presumably he was 11/12 years old internationally.

The first time little Gon heard the flute music was when his saviour came for him, not before, which begs the question as to why he went to Cheonjongo that night in the first place. Maybe because his dad wanted to show him the Manpasikjeok?

This “Golden Army” section of the Royal Guard existed, at least in 1994. Maybe it still does in the present. Maybe it doesn’t. That remains to be seen.

The official story was that Royal Guards shot Lee Lim dead on the beach, not that he was found washed up dead like I assumed in the show. Maybe this was just a detail in the show that I forgot about, but I’m including it here because it confused me at first.

Lee Lim’s “death” had always seemed futile and meaningless to Gon.

Apparently, according to Gon, all the fear, grief, and hurt has already faded away from that night with time, and the only thing he still has is the question of why his saviour hasn’t come back for him. Apparently.

Please imagine a strained voice for this next point: Jeong Taeeul’s ID card became Gon’s reason for living. *sigh.*

This is something I’d noticed before, but this whole scene where he looks at the ID card in his book, and everything in the show immediately preceding it that the book cut - this all happens on 10th September 2019. Is there a significance to this date? YES! THERE IS! IT’S YEONG’S BIRTHDAY! THEY CUT OUT YEONG’S SCENE ON HIS GODDAMN BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

The Royal Guard was on high alert after the shooting at the rowing competition, and yet Gon still managed to escape? He’s quite impressive.

The main reason Gon was suspicious that Lee Lim wasn’t dead, despite them having a corpse, was because Lee Lim risked everything to get the Manpasikjeok, but his half wasn’t found on this corpse. This is what Gon is thinking about as he’s looking at the portal for the first time.

As Gon is riding through the place in between, in the portal dimension, he’s thinking of the passage of Alice in Wonderland that he read to the children a few days ago, of Alice following the clock rabbit into the rabbit hole, and then falling further and further down.

And that’s it! I’m… actually surprised at how long this ended up being, because I definitely found the first chapter a lot more entertaining than this one. Though to be honest, that was mostly the shameless Gon worshipping. There was definitely some of that this chapter, but not at all to the same extent. Next time… I haven’t really looked very hard at the next chapter, but I think it’s going to cover Taeeul and Gon’s first meeting, from their very first interaction to Gon’s time in the police station. And now I say that, I’m suddenly realising that I’m quite excited to find out what Gon is thinking when he sees Eunseob for the first time. But not too excited. I don’t think it’s wise to have expectations that are too high with this book.

Final thoughts? Underwhelming. I know this book can’t deviate much from the show, but I was disappointed with how little extra information we learnt about Lee Lim in the Cheonjongo scene. Does he really just want *gestures vaguely* power? Is it really just because he feels it’s unfair that he wasn’t born to be the king? Come on, where’s the flavour? Does he want to be more powerful than God because he just wants power? Does he want to rule Corea? Does he want to rule the world? The multiverse??? What is his endgame here??? He gets the Manpasikjeok, then what??? I was hoping that the book would give us some more insight, but it absolutely has not done that so far. Ah well. I suppose it’s only Chapter 2. There’s still time.

Other than that, my main takeaway is that Lee Gon is taking a long, long swim in a certain river in Egypt in regards to how he’s Totally Fine And Ok after the night of the treason. Did he ever get therapy after that night? If so, his therapist didn’t do a very good job if he still thinks that he can’t tell his loved ones about his “weak” feelings because he’s the king. If he didn’t get therapy, then I want to have serious words with whoever looked at this child who just saw his father murdered and almost got murdered himself, and decided “yeah, he’ll probably be ok.”

But of course, he’s fine! It’s below the king to have these so-called “mental health struggles.”

#kitkat reads the tkem novel #tkem #lee gon #lee lim #I can’t believe they snubbed Yeong on his birthday #actually I very much can believe it #that feels very right for this show #I don’t think I have that much more to say #other than that gon being a gifted kid who could read and do maths at a very early age #but is now trying to convince himself that he’s totally perfectly fine and he can’t tell his loved ones about his problems #gon baby… so many people on this here internet can tell you that this is a slippery slope

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ryuwonieebae · 1 year

Note

Cuddling with vernon👀

𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡

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

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐍 (최한솔)

Imagines, One-shot

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ : ғʟᴜғғ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : ᴠᴇʀɴᴏɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑪𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓...

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

It's been 3 hours and you're still sitting on the couch waiting for your boyfriend Vernon. His group just had a comeback and since then he has been so busy. He never really had enough time for you but you didn't complain about it as you know how much he kissed his fans. He may seem to be energetic on stage but the reality is the opposite. Since the choreography of their new song was hard, he trained day and night just for it. It bothered you because you were worried sick about him. Not before long, you heard the front door opening. You quickly got up and went towards the front door only to see Vernon with his shuffling steps that scuff the floor. Just by his haggard appearance, you understood that he was drained because of work. Walking up to him, you gave him a warm hug which he eventually gave you back. You both stayed in that position for a few minutes feeling each other's warmth before breaking it slowly. "Love, go take a bath and let's eat dinner afterwards. I made your favorite food, ok?", as you told him, he nodded with an infectious smile which you gladly returned. He then gave you a small peck on your forehead and left. You went into the kitchen and prepared the food. Soon after, he came downstairs and sat at the table. As he saw his favorite food on the table, his face brightened up. You giggled looking at his face whilst serving him the food.

TIME SKIP

You were now washing the dishes when someone back-hugged you making you flinch a bit. You calmed down as you realized that it was Vernon. "Hun, you still didn't sleep yet? It's already late", you asked him softly. "I can't sleep without you. Can we cuddle?", he asked you with his sleepy eyes. "Sure but go to bed now. I will be there in a few minutes", He just nodded and went to his room upstairs. After a while, you entered the room to see Vernon laying on the bed, scrolling something on his phone. As soon as he saw you, he simply tossed his phone and opened his arms wide waiting for you to hug him. You chuckled and went toward him. You snuggled up against him, chest to chest, your heartbeats slowly catching up to his as if your bodies reacted simultaneously to your warm hug. "Love, I'm sorry. I'm too busy nowadays that I couldn't even talk to you properly", you heard Vernon apologizing. "No, it's okay love. I understand", You sincerely reassured him with a sweet smile. Before he could open his mouth again to speak, you cut him off with a gentle kiss. The kiss was slow and quick but filled with warmth and enough sparkle that made your tummy do some weird flips even after years of dating. Both of you guys finally broke the kiss out of breath. "I know what you're going through dear. No need to apologize, okay? I love you", you said while cupping his warm cheeks with your palms. "Thank you love. I love you too", He said embracing you tightly, slowly drifting off to his dreamland.

"𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠"

~The End~

A/n : This imagine is purely based on my imagination only. I tried my best to write this and it's also my first time. I hope this is good enough to make you guys happy. Thank you for requesting too. It means a lot for me.. Thanks to my bestie too for supporting me..Pls check out her amazing stories too... @the-therapist-needs-therapy

#svt masterlist #svt imagines #svt #seventeen #imagine #vernon #hansol chwe #boyfriend imagine #carat #fanfictions

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ladyelissarose · 2 years

Text

Hold my Hand

Song- ‘Hold My Hand’ by Lady Gaga

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x aviator reader - callsign ‘Monarch’

Warnings: mentions of a jet accident, an almost panic attack, some descriptions of scars, angst to fluff. This one is really long!! But please enjoy, leave a like or reblog to share :)💕💕

Summary: Hangman and his wingman Monarch, embark on a mission that almost cost there lives. Now, in the aftermath of it all, will Hangman trust himself to let his wingman lead him back to the skies?

‘“Hey Hangman we got some trouble behind us!!”

“I can see that Monarch! Just hold on! We’re going to make it out of this!!”

“They’re at our tail Hangs!! Move it!!”

Hangman looked at his radar and in seconds it all shut off on him, making him go into panic mode as everything followed and shutdown as well. He shouted to his backseater who was his wingman, Monarch,

“EJECT MONARCH EJECT!! WE’RE GOING IN!!”

“HANGMAN ITS NOT PULLING!!”

The F-18 had already started going straight down, heading right for the ocean under them. The shots they had gotten previously from the mission they had completed successfully, was beginning to show its handy work because it damaged the jet completely, and went to shit in mid air. Hangman knew he shouldn’t of stuck around for so long after they had completed the mission, as his backseater had told him, ‘Let’s just do this and get out of here, no need to stick around and finish the rest.’ But Hangman being himself, wanted to prove that he could ‘Do it all’. And because of his boastful and cocky actions, it cost him the safety of his wingman and himself, they couldn’t eject, and the last words he heard was Monarch cries of desperation for not being able to eject, and they had finally hit the ocean, in seconds it went all black and silent for the both of them.

2 months later...

Tell me you need me

Hold my hand, everything will be ok

I’ve heard from the heavens that clouds have been grey,

Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms

I see that you’re hurtin’, why’d you take so long?

After the incident, Monarch and Hangman had ended up in the hospital, after being searched for for at least 3 hours. Once in the safety and comfort of the Navy Base Hospital, it was confirmed that both would live, but they both had suffered extended injuries; Monarch had a broken arm and a couple of ribs, and Hangman got a terrible concussion, along with a broken foot and ribs too. It was a miracle that they both had survived, the only thing that saved them was the fact that their bodies had been relaxed enough were the bones weren’t tense enough to break more, which could’ve caused a punctured lung or artery, making their survival less likely. Now, both aviators are in therapy on base, Monarch had gotten better quickly, she was on her feet in no time- (of course after severe clearing from her doctor and specialist) but she was already preparing for her first day back in the air sense the incident which was 2 months ago. Hangman on the other hand, was recovering very slowly, because his mind was focused on the fact, that because he was so eager to show off his skills, he had almost killed his wingman, his best friend, and not-admitted crush/lover. He couldn’t bare the thought of ever going back and causing the same accident, which could probably not promise surviving again. His therapist tried talking him into the fact it wasn’t his fault, he was just trying to finish the entire corse, but Hangman explained that his wingman had said to go back because they wouldn’t make it home after the hits they got, if they finished the corse, and she was more than painfully right in the end. Hangman had even distanced himself from Monarch, but not before he made sure she was alive and well, but after that, he hid away from her completely, not wanting to see the damage his ego had cost her. She sported the bruises on her soft, toned stomach and chest, and some stitches on her left arm, from the surgeons opening it up to take out the shards of glass that was in it, he hated to see it, it screamed him and he felt terribly sorry and guilty for it.

To tell me you need me?

I see that you’re bleeding

You don’t need to show me again

But if you decide to, I’ll ride in this life with you

I won’t let go ‘til the end

Monarch had done her best to reach out to him too and say it wasn’t his fault, but he pushed her farther away each time, refusing to accept her apology and forgiving heart.

But soon, it was clear that it all began to eat him up, of course he missed the skies and the jets, it was his life, being Hangman was someone he was born to be, but the guilt of what Hangman had cost, kept him away. His therapist and wing buddies hated seeing this once boastful, happy and griny guy, now looking like a dark cloud hovered him 24/7 with pouring rain, tears of sadness and regret. And because of it, it was affecting his recovery and it’s speed, so, his friends came up with a solution, and good one too, (Maverick and Rooster came up with it by the way ;) One day after Monarch had done her training, she was told that she could fly later that afternoon, for the first time after waiting forever. She was thrilled and excited, but her heart sank a little when she asked if Hangman was going to be there too, and the answer was no because he hadn’t been cleared off yet. But soon, they both would be in a place they belonged, as that afternoon Hangman was wheeled by Rooster to the runway where Monarch’s jet rested, and Monarch was led by Mavericks hand to the same place. But before Maverick got close enough, he told her what to do, saying it was more than allowed because he said so. Once Monarch was in front of Hangman, confusion was read on his face as they looked at each other, but soon, on Hangman’s face, that confusion turned into worry and fear, while Monarch looked at him with compassion and with an urge to just embrace him. Maverick and Rooster left them both to be alone, so, Monarch broke the silence first when she said in a breathy and soft tone,

“Hi Hangs..”

Hangman looked at his wrapped up foot, refusing to see the eyes he had fallen for and dearly missed, as he replied in a voice that was barely above a whisper, but his Texan drawl still came out sweetly,

“Hey darls..”

‘Darls’ was the nickname he had given her, because she didn’t like him calling her ‘Darlin’ like he did to all his booty-call chicks, so he stuck to that and she liked it. And hearing it come out of his mouth was a step forward to breaking the wall he had created, Monarch even smiled to herself and the sound of it. Deep down Monarch was hoping to hear him go on with his sentence with something. And not an apology, because she had told him many times that it wasn’t his fault, but just words that let her see why he had left her to hang, words that made her heart understand why he couldn’t let it all go like she had, forgive himself like she had forgiven him, but instead, she was met with a sudden sniffle that left his pretty lips, making her drop to her knees in front of him instantly and grabbing his warm, shaking hands into her steady, cold ones.

So cry, tonight

But don’t you let go of my hand

You can cry every last tear

I won’t leave ‘til I understand

Promise me, just hold my hand

Hangman couldn’t look at her no matter how close she was, he could smell the vanilla sweat that radiated off her body, the stupid minty gum she always chewed, even the remnants of the oil on her hands from fixing her jet up, along with honey scented hand wash. Monarch desperately searched his green orbs as she asked him with concern,

“Hangman.. what’s wrong, please talk to me-“

Hangman shook his head no while let out a soft sob,

“I’m so sorry Monarch.. it wasn’t supposed to go down like this-“

“Hey hey.. I’ve heard that a million times already.. and I’ve forgiven every single apology. It’s done.. tell me why.. Hangs tell me why you’re still like this?”

His eyes went from looking at his foot, to their holding hands, and now fixated on her face.. and to her eyes they finally rested, he simply shrugged and held back the words that threatened to come out freely but would only be stuttered out probably. But Monarch waited patiently, she knew he had an answer, and it finally came out in a trembling tone, he tried to hide his emotions, but after holding and bottling them for so long, it came out like a river, with tears and all,

“I.. I just can’t get out of my head the fact that I almost killed you because I didn’t listen, -“

“But-“

Hangman squeezed her hand tightly and almost begged,

“Please.. just, let me say what I need to say.”

Monarch sent him an apologetic look with a small smile and nod, he took that as his cue to proceed, so he took a deep breath before continuing,

“So, I’m just scared for that to happen again, yes, everyone says it wasn’t my fault because I was just doing what I thought was the right thing to do, finish the corse, but you told me to not go on, because the jet wouldn’t make it.. this time it wasn’t about the pilot, it was about the plane, and I completely brushed it off, resulting in our accident. And as much as I ..-“

He let go of Monarch’s hand to wipe his tears, but she was quicker to do the gesture, but lovingly and gently, and she kept her hand resting on his cheek as the other stayed interlocked with his fingers. He leaned into her touch as the warmth embraced his wet cheek, he grabbed her hand from his face and held it against his chest. Monarch smiled at him and voiced her words that were barley audible,

“Go on.. I’m not leaving until you tell me everything and I understand.”

Doing simply that was what broke him, he didn’t understand how she could still love and trust him, after he gave up everything because he couldn’t demonstrate either. And that’s what he said exactly,

“I don’t know how you do it Dalrs.. if it was the other way around, I don’t know how I’d feel, be angry probably and resilient.. not forgive like you had, at least not so quickly.. but you did.. and I can’t live with how loving and forgiving you are, I can’t live with the fact that you can tolerate my shit like no one else and still be the first to defend me in a fist fight, I can’t understand why you still show up, why you choose to go on with me, why you.. why you fight to not let me go everyday, when I let you go so easily. W-Why Monarch?”

A broken sob left his lips again as he looked down at their hands, and by this point Monarch had shed some tears of her own, in all her life of knowing Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, she had never heard him say something so meaningful and serious, he always was cocky and arrogant, meaning so were his actions and words, but this time, they reflected who he really was under it all. His words reflected that in the end, when the day was over, when no one was there to see him but the stars, he was just a simple man, wanting to be seen as someone bigger than he believed he was, that while underneath everything was shattered and lonely, he wanted his appearance to be strong and unbeatable, and it definitely fed his ego, but it only satisfied it for so long, cause in the end he felt more empty and lonely than ever. And at last Monarch was able to see this side of him, his true self, making her understand his every move sense the start, she used the back of her hand to wipe the tears that had collected on his chin, and her thumb to wipe his lips too, she then replied to him sweetly and simply while she tilted his chin up,

“Look at me Hangman..”

Hangman found her eyes as she began to say,

“You want to know why I always come back, why I am how I am with you? Because I’m your best friend, and I am your wingman. I’ll always come back to you. Because that’s what we do.”

Raise you head, look into my wishful eyes

That fear that’s inside you will lift, give it time

I can see everything you’re blind to now

Your prayers will be answered, let God whisper how

Hangman searched her eyes for any doubt, but he only found them to be filled with a passion and love he couldn’t describe but only feel. Monarch had asked him to be her wingman, after they went on a mission for the first time together and were the best and most successful. He said yes, not realizing that it would be the best decision of his life, because she was his wingman for everything, both in the good and bad, in and out of the Navy, she stood beside him through every correctional lecture he got from his Admirals, through the nights he’d be so drunk from going all out at Hard Deck, she’d be the sober one picking up his pieces and making sure he made it home safe. She took the blame for him a couple of times, because his shenanigans were becoming more consistent, and the punishment was big if he screwed up again, which he did, but she painted her hands red for it, to spare him. Hangman was now very afraid of the power she had over his heart, but a good power, because he didn’t realize that he had made her presence and heart his source to breathe. Monarch then got up and gave him a smile as she said,

“On my first day back in the skies, I wanted you to come in the back with me.”

Hangman’s face lift up as he questioned,

“Are you.. sure? You don’t have to-“

“I want to Hangs.. I really do, I can’t do this without you. I need your here with me.”

Her requesting his presence squeezed his heart so warmly, she indeed did love and need his everything as much as he did, though neither ever admitted it. He looked down at himself, but Monarch knew what he was going to say, so she beat him to it with a simple,

“I’ll get you dressed, into your flight suit and all, and we’ll help each other get you in yeah?”

Jake shook his head as he extended his hand to her, she took it as he sighed,

“Thank you, for being my wingman.”

Monarch kissed his wrist and forehead as she smiled,

“Thank you too. Now let’s go.”

To tell me you need me, I see that you’re bleeding

You don’t need to show me again

But if you decide to, I’ll ride in this life with you

I won’t let go ‘til the end

Monarch wheeled Hangman to the locker room, and after standing him up slowly and carefully, she helped him slip into his flight suit that had been abandoned for a really long time, as so it seemed. Naturally Monarch showed her attentive gestures, like holding his foot so gently so it could slip into the pant leg easily, steadying his waist so he could pull up the pants, untucking his dogtags from his shirt so it could rest above his suit, zipping up the flight suit slowly so it wouldn’t catch on his clothes underneath, and lastly the equipment he needed to go on the jet.

Hangman was so close to bursting into tears again as he watch Monarch do all of this silently but lovingly, she would only let out a few,

‘I’m going to hold you here ok?’

‘We’re almost done Hangs, you’re doing good.’

‘Sorry! Did I hurt you?’

Hangman would respond each one with a ‘thank you’ and ‘it’s more than ok’ also,

‘No, you didn’t hurt me I promise’.

Soon Monarch checked him and saw he was ready, and so was she, as she was about to bring him his wheel chair, Hangman protested,

“I uh.. I think I want to try and walk on my own, without the chair.”

Monarchs face lit up as she cheered sweetly,

“Oh great! Ok! Here, I’ll be right by your side, hold on to my shoulder here and I’ll hold your waist.”

“Oh- ok.. thanks.”

Having her support there made him more confident to not be wheeled out this time, or if not, not even ever again. Monarch did exactly what she said they would, as they both walked in Hangman’s pace to the jet, he still couldn’t get over her warm touch, how comforting it felt, or her eyes when they stole a glance from one another, he found ‘home’ in them every time. The moment came when it was time to get in, Monarch with one hand pulled out the ladder to her side of the jet, and let it fall to the ground, she then told Hangman,

“Ok, lean here for now, I’m going to climb up, then help you be pulled up here onto the wing so we can get you in your seat alright? We still gotta be careful with your foot remember?”

Hangman let out a contented but nervous sigh,

“Of course.. ok, just be careful-“

In a heart beat Monarch was already on the top, she looked down at him with a million dollar smile as she encouraged,

“I’ll always be! Ok! Come on, your turn!”

Her smile gave him adrenaline like no other. Hangman was able to manage on his own with the hurt foot quite well, but getting into a jet was a whole different exercise. But, he was slow and steady as she grabbed his hands and helped him up the ladder easily and somewhat swiftly once they both got a good grip of each other. Monarch then lead him to his back seat, and Hangman was able to sit down and take a deep breath of happiness. He felt the seat around him and ran his fingers over the buttons in front of him, remembering the familiarity of it all. It was like riding a bike to him, the knowledge of everything he knew about TopGun was in his blood, it was who he was. Monarch watched him with warmth spreading into her chest, her love for him only increasing more. He must of felt her gaze as he suddenly turned locked his green, shining orbs onto hers. He smiled when she caught herself staring and blushed deeply while looking away, but Hangman let out a chuckle as he chided,

“I know I’m pretty.. but not as pretty as you.”

Monarch looked back at him and punched his arm with a laugh,

“There he is.. my cheeky pilot.. now, let’s get this done.”

Hangman rolled his eyes playfully at being called ‘cheeky’, but that feeling was long gone once the jet roared to life under him as the top closed, encasing them both into the reality that they would both be in the air together, for the first time, sense the accident. He let out a shaky breath as he clutched his fists onto his suit, and bounced his good leg, but Monarch came to the rescue with her calming words,

“Just breathe with me Hangs.. it’s just you and me, and new moment to erase our nightmares..”

Hangman’s breath hitched at the mention of nightmares, he had been having plenty, terrible ones too, and he figured that Monarch must’ve had her fair share of them, so he understood her when she said, that she was willing to make this moment something good to remember and sleep through. Hangman then heard her through the radio as she suggested,

“If you’re scared.. just close your eyes, ok? And I’ll let you know when we’re in the air.”

“O-ok.. yeah, yeah I’ll do that.”

“Great!”

So cry, tonight

But don’t you let go of my hand

You can cry every last tear

I won’t leave ‘til I understand

Promise you’ll just hold my hand

Hold my hand, hold my

Hold my hand, my hand

I'll be right here, hold my hand

Hold my hand, hold my

Hold my hand, my hand

I'll be right here, hold my hand

I know you’re scared and your pain is imperfect,

But don’t you give up on yourself

I’ve heard a story, a girl, she once told me

That I would be happy again

Hangman could feel the jet start to move, to where he assumed was the runway, to take off. He thought closing his eyes was a good suggestion at first, but then he started to hear and remember Monarchs screams through the radio as she sat behind him panicking,

‘HANGMAN I CANT EJECT! It won’t go!! HANGS WE’RE GOING DOWN!!’

Hangman’s breathing began to come out unsteady and his hands starting shaking, he opened his eyes and moved his head to looked ahead, hey were still on ground and very alive, he didn’t want to sound like a weak person or even scared, but his mouth was quicker than his mind telling him to stop when he almost begged,

“Hey Monarch.. um can you sing to me while we take off? Like- uh.. what’s that song you like so much? The one from that movie with Cooper guy you like and Lady Gaga?”

Monarch smiled to herself and felt sympathetic for Hangman as she knew exactly what he was asking for, she quickly answered him before he could get more ansy, because she too was beginning to feel scared and a little nervous.

“Yeah I know which one you’re talking about.. it’s called ‘Shallow’-“

“Yeah! That one! Could you sing that like, while we go off?”

“Of course, sit back and just relax, I’m gonna start pushing forward at a high speed to gain the amount of power we need to lift off ok?”

“Ok, but start singing now-“

Monarch cut him off as she began to sing,

“Tell me something, boy... aren’t you tired of tryin’ to fill that void? Or do you need more? Ain’t it hard keeping it so hard core...”

Hangman listened to her angelic voice hitting the notes in a way that made his heart swoon, he still could feel the jet beginning to gain speed and power, it all felt so familiar but scary, like when you’ve seen the same horror movie so many times but still get fooled by that one stupid jump scare, that’s how it felt, you knew what it felt like and had seen it before, but this time, it was a little more nerve-wrecking. He took a deep breath as they got closer to take off and he took in Monarchs next words,

“I’m falling.. in all the good times I find myself.. Longing for a change, and in the bad times I fear myself..”

Monarch took a large, and deep breath in as she pulled the throttle back and lifted the jet, but at the same time she shouted happily for Hangman,

‘I’M OFF THE DEEP END!! WATCH AS I DIVE IN!!! I’LL NEVER MEET THE GROUND! CRASH THROUGH THE SURFACE, WHERE THEY CAN’T HARM US..-‘

‘We’re far from the shallow nowwww...’

Monarch caught Hangman singing the last of the chorus in his shy but gorgeous Texan accent, making her smile proudly to herself, wanting to so badly admit how much of her heart he had stolen. Hangman had prolonged the ‘now’ just perfectly, making everything around them fly smoothly, as they both came to the realization, that they were now 3,000ft in the air. Hangman let out a soft laughter of relief,

“You did it Darls! Look at us!!”

Monarch followed his excitement as she replied,

“We did it Hangs.. you and I.. look down below.”

Hangman looked below and they soared above the blue ocean, he could feel his body turn cold immediately, remembering what it felt like the few seconds of falling six feet under the water, until it went black. Monarchs heart pinched too, but she knew Hangman must’ve been feeling worse, so she was quick to fix their feelings,

“In the sha-ha, sha-hallow... in the sha-ha, sha-la-la-la-low..-“

“”we’re far from the shallow now...””

Hearing Hangman’s voice come through the radio to help her finish the song again was enough to know that he was going to be ok, Monarch then asked him voicing her concern.

“You ok back there?”

“Yeah.. thank you.. I don’t know what I would’ve done....”

Monarch finished his sentence as she replied honestly,

“You’re welcome my wingman..-“

Then with a voice that let Hangman know she was wearing a shit-eating grin she added,

“now, how about we take a detour and explore the mountains? Something other than theeeeese waaaaaves?!”

Clapping Hangman let out a howl, bringing out his excited and loud sled again,

“Woooooo!!! Lead the way m’lady!!”

Monarch cheered along with him as she did a full spin a couple of times, showing off her abilities to perform some cool tricks with the jets, reminding him that he was the one that had taught her to do each one, giving him credit for the bravery she had to take the next step. Hangman unnoticeably shed some tears at hearing her honest praise and appreciation, making it finally clear to him, that he couldn’t let the day end, or heck, not even this joyride end without him telling her that he loved her so deeply and passionately,

Hold my hand

With all the courage that could be summed up in Jake Seresins body, he blurted out,

“Monarch! I- Shit ! DAMN IT- DARLS I LOVE YOU!!”

Even above all the noise around them from the loud roaring jet, Monarchs gasp at Hangman’s sudden confession wasn’t missed, it was heard loud and clear, she stayed silent for a few seconds, making Hangman making his plan B come to place,

“I’m so sorry that was crazy of me-“

“JAKE I LOVE YOU TOO!! I really do!!”

Now it was Jakes turn to gasp, but with excitement as he questioned her to have her say it again,

“What?! Wait really?!”

“Yes! I’ve been in love with you all my life! You’re more than a wingman to me Seresin.. really, I love you.”

Hangman chuckled,

“Baby I love you too.. more than words can describe.. man I can’t believe it took this to happen for us to confess our feelings..”

“But it was so worth it.. I wouldn’t change it for anything Hangman.”

“Neither would I Monarch. Never, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Monarch gasped again as she squealed with anticipation,

“Seresin! Are you-“

“Yes I’m proposing! Please say, yes!!”

Monarch started to cry as she glided their jet over the mountains, they looked so beautiful under her as the sun began to set and paint them an endearing color, making their moment even special, because everything around them was becoming and looking more beautiful. Monarch wiped her eyes as she cried,

“Ask me!! Come on!”

“Oh oh! Right!! Ok, Monarch, the love of my life and wingman, best friend and just my everything, will you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me? Will you marry me?”

Monarch sent their jet upside down over a waterfall as they headed towards the setting sun, replying with a happy tone,

“YES!! Yes yes!! A million times yes!!”

Hold my hand

Hold my haaaaand

After that splendid flight they had, they safely made it back on ground in base.

Monarch was the first to unbuckle herself and toss her helmet off to throw herself onto Hangman who was still in the back, she embraced him with all her might, as he pulled her closer and onto his lap, cradling her head and holding her torso so impossibly close to his body. They together began to cry their emotions out, letting so many unspoken words come through tears, the stress of being separated for so long pour out through their embrace. Monarch pulled away first as she cradled his face in her hands, but Hangman pulled her left hand away as he placed on her wedding finger a paper ring, that he had made out of a piece of paper that he had ripped from the Jets Manuel.

She smiled at it and leaned in for their first kiss that he met her halfways for. Without realizing it, they let out a breath of relief through the kiss, searching for answers as it was deepened and passionate, Hangman squeezed Monarchs hips as she tightened her arms around his neck, tilting her head to explore what love felt like through a kiss with Hangman, and he satisfied her well when he slipped his tongue into her pretty mouth and gained dominance, relishing the moment with her in every second.

Pulling away to catch their breaths, they leaned their foreheads on one another’s, and Hangman breathed out one more time,

“I love you Monarch.”

Smiling to herself Monarch replied the words Hangman was going to hear for the rest of his life,

“I love you more Hangman.”

I heard from the Heavens...

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