#I SERIOUSLY NEED A THERAPIST SESSION | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gatorbites-imagines · 4 months

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hiiiii!

may i request a poly ghost face x male reader who has anger issues(but he's such a bottom its sickening) and like his anger issues make people think he's all tough and he's been to like psychiatric hospitals for seriously hurting people and its times to renew his medicine but the doctor is out or they don't have his medicine in stock, so for the next week he has to go without medication and he gets into multiple physical fights and by the end of the week he like breaks down and is like "i don't wanna be angry all the time" which leads to a sweet cuddle session nd praise from billy and stu as reader cries and soon falls asleep

thank you sm!

Billy Loomis x Male reader X Stu Macher

Headcanons

Reader is on the more muscular side in this.

You had a reputation around Woodsboro, as a no fucks, dangerous and angry meathead. It mainly stemmed from the fact that you got into a lot of fights when you were younger, and was sent away to a psychiatric hospital for a while to find the right dose and medicine to give you.

It didn’t help that you lifted weights, worked out, and did different martial arts to help settle the anger that always simmered inside your body. As puberty hit, you shot up like a beanstalk, and you packed on muscle like no one’s business.

Your parents supported you, since having an outlet helped a lot with your anger issues, as long as you took your medicine, which they always made sure was available.

Because of your reputation, no one dares to say anything when you, Billy and Stu start openly dating. People are mostly confused by someone as popular and attractive as Billy and Stu would wanna go out with someone as rough and off-putting, in their eyes, as you.

Your boyfriends love you very much though, and they don’t mind your tendency to resort to anger quicker than most. Billy probably finds it hot to be honest, and Stu always likes to lay on your bed and watch as you lift weights in one of you tank tops.

I can honestly see Billy pushing your buttons just enough to make a vein pop and for you to pin him down, just for him to smirk and wrap his legs around your waist. Hes a little shit, and likes the thrill, what can I say.

Stu has definitely made comments about how if you need an outlet, he doesn’t mind help you out, if you know what I mean ;) ;)

You always just roll your eyes and go for a run to cool off, or do some other hobby your therapist and psychologist recommended, like gardening, journaling or coloring.

Your week starts of shitty, when you run out of your meds. Your parents take you to your doctor to get a new dose, but they’re all out and don’t know what they’ll get their next shipment.

They promise to get in contact with you as soon as they have it, and you get sent on your way, arriving at school later in the day than normal.

The first day or two is fine, since your last dose is still in your system, but when that runs out you start getting agitated. You grind your teeth and crack your fingers, feeling fidgety and so annoyed and angry by everything.

Literally everything pisses you off, from the way people chew gum, to how loudly people close their lockers, or how people cut in front of you in line in the cafeteria.

Billy is the first to notice how tense and agitated you are, as you prowl around like a caged tiger, glaring at everyone and everything. Stu notices not long after when you just grumble and mutter when he tries to play flirt with you or wrap his arm around you.

You get into multiple fights that week, from someone calling Stu and Billy a slur because you three are openly in a relationship, to a guy who bumper checked you on the way to school.

Normally Billy and Stu would enjoy the show of strength and how hot you look, but they can both see how miserable it makes you feel, especially when you are sent home and suspended for an entire week.

When you return home, you stomp upstairs into your room and throw off your jacket and shirt and just get to work lifting weights until everything hurts, and even then, you don’t stop.

Normally lifting weights help at least take the edge off, but nothing is working, only frustrating you more and making you even more angry. It reaches the point where you just wanna cry from how angry you are.

You don’t even notice how you’ve been at it for hours until Billy and Stu arrive and see you hunched over with a dumbbell, arms shaking from how far you’ve pushed yourself.

You are just scowling though, barring your teeth as you push yourself harder and harder, eyes shiny from unshed tears and very dehydrated from working yourself so hard.

Billy goes off to get you something to drink, some clean clothes and a wet washcloth, as Stu goes about getting the weight out of your hand and making sure you are at least okay. When he asks if you are okay, it just all spills over.

You start sobbing and shaking with anger and misery, crying into Stus shoulder as Billy returns. He puts the things he brought aside, and they just hold you as you cry, choking out how you just don’t wanna be so angry anymore, how everything hurts and nothing helps.

Your two lovers just hold you through it, letting you get out as much as you need, before they sit you up and Billy wipes you down with the wet cloth, and Stu gets you to drink the entire water bottle Billy brought to get you hydrated.

Stu holds you again as Billy gets the bed ready, and they pull you under the sheets as they cuddle up on either side of you, keeping you between them as they hold you close.

Because sure, they find your anger hot, but they hate how much pain it causes you. Cue lots of sweet cuddles and kisses from both, but the kisses are mostly from Stu as Billy mumbles all kinds of praise and compliments into your ear from behind.

I could imagine them also massaging your arms because of how hard you strained them, and their combined love and attention makes the anger lessen. It doesn’t go away, it never does, but it’s enough to knock you out.

The hours of working out, a week full of stress, and dehydration quickly knocks you out, putting you to sleep between Billy and Stu as they just hold you.

They know they cant make your problems go away, even though they wish they could, but they will stay by your side the entire way, and will never let you struggle alone.

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lollytea · 3 months

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Therapy

(Wrote this in five hours without stopping. Nothing fancy. Maybe sloppy and unpolished. Bon appetite???)

"Leave it alone, Darius," Hunter snarled, slamming down his chisel and wooden shape on the desk as he whirled around to face him.

"I'm doing a load anyway!" Retorted Darius, one hand gripping the laundry basket against the hip and the other holding a graphic tee with the solar system printed on it. "You know it bothers me to walk in here and see dirty clothes tossed all over the floor."

"I can do my own laundry!"

Hunter internally winced at his tone the second it burst out of him.

He sounded like the cranky, whiny child that he had once been, always gnashing nonvenomous teeth in an effort to be taken seriously.

Being treated as a child was one of his most explosive buttons. And the worst part was that if pushed, he always acted up in a way that proved them right.

He reeled himself in, filling his lungs to steady his wrung nerves before turning back to his work.

There was a pause.

"I know you are," said Darius, his voice softer than it had been a moment prior. "But considering you've been letting it pile up for the last few days, I figure I'd lend you a hand."

"I don't need a hand." Hunter took furious chunks out of his hunk of wood. "I'm gonna do it myself. I'm just....busy. Right now."

Hunter was "busy" a lot lately, leaving things such as laundry overlooked, as he focused on one obsession after another. Darius referred to his bouts of productivity as "manic episodes."

It was preferable to the other half of the time when he went borderline unresponsive. Those days weren't fun.

He heard a fwump, which was presumably the sound of Darius dropping the shirt back on the floor.

"Ocellena called," He said.

Hunter's rough attempts at whittling went still. "That's...the therapist's name, right?"

"Yes. Your first session is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. 3pm."

"Right. Okay." Hunter intoned. "Thanks."

When he offered nothing else, Darius pushed a bit.

"I know you're scared."

Hunter wanted to hotly declare that he wasn't. But he felt like the blood of a lie would seep through his words. He said nothing.

"But you haven't been doing well, Hunter."

He wanted to argue that he was actually doing awesome. But Darius was a lot better at arguing than he was, so he'd probably just end up looking stupid.

"And I promise that this is a step in the right direction."

"I said I was sorry," Hunter found himself uttering in a quiet, scratchy voice.

There he was again, that whiny difficult child inside of him. And in that moment, he had touched Hunter's throat, letting out one final plea to be forgiven.

He didn't know what he expected to happen.

Maybe deep down, he desperately wanted Darius to soften up and say to him, "Oh Hunter, what am I thinking? I shouldn't send you to therapy. You don't deserve that."

Darius said nothing of the sort.

Instead, he sighed. "You have nothing to apologize for,"

Hunter felt fingerpads gently drill against his temple. "How do I get that through your stubborn skull?"

His insides writhed with empty dread.

So, apologizing was worthless in this case. Noted.

Before Darius left the room, Hunter's hair was affectionately ruffled. He slid his eyes shut and savoured the feeling.

Every day for the last few months, Hunter was handled with such gentleness by the people around him. It had become so frequent that he had come close to taking it for granted.

He once caught himself wondering if maybe one day he'd forget how it felt to be treated.....the other way.

Well, it certainly wouldn't be anytime soon.

Hunter was, quite possibly, one of Bonesborough's most insufferable roommates. The number of times Darius and Eberwolf were awoken at untitanly hours by the sound of him suffocating on his own serrated screams was embarrassing.

The memories still seared raw and achey, nowhere close to scabbing over.

He couldn't forget.

And now, he was about to experience it all over again. But for morally correct reasons this time.

Hunter exhaled, irritated by the way it rattled. He leaned forward and hung his head in his hands.

There was a persistent gnaw of guilt in his abdomen that he was doing his damndest to ignore.

He did not want to go to therapy. But he knew he'd be a coward to admit that.

This was supposed to be a noble thing, right? Atonement. He was supposed to be owning up to his mistakes like an adult. But, being faced with the imminent appointment made him feel more like a spineless child than ever.

"Do you know what therapy is?" Darius had asked a few weeks ago when the topic had first been broached.

His tone made made Hunter bristle. He felt patronized. Nothing made him shrink in humiliation more than being confronted with the fact that he still didn't know a lot of things.

"Of course I do!" He snapped, not bothering to mention that he had only learned of the concept a few days prior when Steve brought it up in conversation.

"It's so chill, dude," He had explained. "It really made me reflect on all the bad stuff I did as a scout, y'know? And now I feel like I can finally move past all that business without the ol' baggage wearin' me down."

"But what is it?" Hunter prodded. "What happens in therapy?"

"Well it's...y'know,"

Hunter frowned, impatient. He did not know.

"It's just you and them. In a room together. Alone. And...you talk. About stuff..." Steve shrugged airily. "It's just that, man."

The last words Steve uttered sounded like they were underwater because Hunter had mentally blipped out after hearing the words 'In a room,' 'Alone' and 'talk'

His blood had frozen over.

Steve's wrist was promptly squeezed by Hunter's jittery fingers. And when the older scout curiously met his eyes, he said solemnly, "Steve. You don't have to go there."

Steve smiled his pleasant, lopsided smile. "I want to, Hunter."

His voice was so soft, so sure of itself, that a heavy weight of devastation unloaded in Hunter's stomach.

"Sure, it's scary at first." Steve continued, giving Hunter's knuckles a comforting rap. "But over time....it helps."

And then, he said the words that Hunter selfishly wished he had never heard.

"I go to therapy, and I think I'm now a better guy than I used to be."

The rest of the interaction had fallen flat because Hunter suddenly felt very disconnected from his body, and Steve could not reel him back.

He remembered the curt businesslike knock on the door of his castle bedroom. He knew it as the sound of guards delivering a message. A slip of paper from the Emperor himself, requesting his presence in the throne room. To talk.

He remembered the soft-spoken echoey order once he entered.

"Close the door,"

Hunter would obey. And then, they were alone.

'In a room'

'Alone'

'Talk'

Hunter knew how to read between the lines.

He felt stupid. Naive. They had told him that the things Belos had done to him were wrong.

They promised him that it was wrong.

But it seemed as though Hunter had severely misunderstood.

The actions themselves were not wrong, but the reasoning.

Hunter did not deserve to be punished for failing to carry out the dirty work of a vile, depraved man.

Every punishment was undeserved by default, on the grounds of it being delivered by Belos.

But Hunter, idiot that he was, had foolishly believed that he was never going to be hurt like that again.

And if he was, he would at least take comfort in the fact that it was wrong.

The realizations were crashing over him in overpowering waves. He felt pathetic for not being able to take it.

I'd like to leave the Emperor's Coven and never set foot in that throne room again

I go to therapy, and I'm now a better guy than I used to be

There were people on the Isles who hurt you and....and it was right...?

You face the consequences of your actions, and you allow them to hurt you in a way that was ethical, and then....you were a better person.

Of course.

Of course that was how it worked.

How could he possibly believe it worked any differently?

It had struck him the moment Steve had said it, that nobody on the Isles deserved therapy more than Hunter.

The actions of the Golden Guard had been unspeakably cruel. All the times he had stood there, turning a blind eye, as his uncle tore open a living creature. All the carnage Hunter had allowed to happen directly in front of him.

It was borderline brainless of him to ever assume that he could escape consequences.

He desperately wanted to be a good person. He would start ripping his own innards out if it meant he could be deemed a good person.

He'd do anything. Really.

Which was why he had decided to steel his nerves and agree to therapy.

He would walk into that room and his legs would not shake.

He would tilt up his chin, close his eyes, and stomach the consequences he had earned.

And then, Titan willing, he'd be one step closer to being good.

And yet...he would rather be dismembered than admit it, but...

Hunter was scared. He was scared to receive his punishment.

After everything he had done to innocent lives, Hunter had the audacity to be scared of the punishment.

He disgusted himself.

_______________________________

With the Emperor's Coven dismantled, the vacant police precinct currently had a plethora of uses.

Most notably, it was a research facility that Darius frequented. The current project was working on a safe sigil extraction procedure. Hunter gave Darius a headache by asking for updates every damn day, despite the latter's insistence that it would probably take years to perfect.

But today, when Hunter visited the building, he and Darius did not turn right towards the lab, but they ventured down an entirely foreign hallway.

Hunter was doing everything in his power to keep his breathing steady.

"Would you like me to sit in the waiting room?" Asked Darius.

"No," Hunter answered.

They continued to cut through the hallway in silence.

"Yes," He corrected himself, so quiet he worried Darius wouldn't hear it.

He did hear it. "Alright. I think we'll pick up some fatty junk from the market for dinner tonight. I don't feel like cooking."

Darius hated fatty junk.

Despite the terror teething his insides, Hunter's lip still quirked upwards, feeling the tiniest surge of warmth.

He loved fatty junk. And Darius knew it.

His therapy session was not the end of the world. Life would continue afterwards, and there would still be little pleasures.

And he would be a better person than he was now.

Once Darius checked him in, Hunter tried not to squirm in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, debating whether he wanted to pick up one of the trashy magazines on the rack.

According to the front cover of one of the tabloids, a star grudgby player had an organ eating scandal. Typical tabloid stuff.

"Hunter?" Called a soft, docile voice that nonetheless made him glad he didn't eat breakfast because he wanted to puke.

Darius tapped his knee to signal him to stand up, which Hunter did. He managed to not cave in.

He crossed the waiting room and pushed the door open, pretending that he wasn't experiencing alarming flashes of hands and eyes and dripping green blades.

He was ready. He was going to be a good person.

"Hello, Hunter~" Singsonged a small pudgy woman, who was in the process of donning an ankle length cardigan. Occellena. "Do you find it chilly in here, by any chance?" She asked.

Taken aback by the question, Hunter dumbly shook his head.

"Guess it's just me, then. It's a curse. Cold blooded n' all."

She had a head of plump indigo tentacles, and her bright amber eyes were magnified by jar-like spectacles.

"Well, let me know if you catch a chill and I'll turn up the heater."

The heater in question was a crystal ball the size of an ottoman with a blazing flame contained in the glass.

Occellena swept across the room to where Hunter stood and put a hand to the door. "Let's just close this and we can get--"

As far as he was aware, he did not do anything. But something made her take pause, and when she glanced his way, he felt himself jot.

"Or would you prefer to keep it open?"

The question initially escaped his comprehension. It seemed out of the realm of his own reality.

Hunter's throat tightened. And when he tried to speak, he failed.

He nodded again.

"Okay!" She said cheerily, like this was the best thing she had heard all day.

Out of the thousands of tangles in Hunter's stomach, one of them spread loose.

It was faint, but he distinctly felt the way that tangle relaxed itself.

"So, we'll leave the door open for now," said Occellena. "And if you decide at any point that you don't want that anymore, you can just pop right up and give it a swing shut."

Defenses still scaling high, Hunter had no idea what to make of this.

"Anyway," She made to walk towards her own chair, politely beckoning him to follow with one of her tentacles. "Shall we sit? I recently got a new couch. I'd really like some feedback on how comfy it is."

_______________________________

Darius would never say it, but his heart was hammering like a jackalope with worry for that ridiculous kid. His legs kept crossing and uncrossing in the waiting room chairs that seemed specifically designed to be uncomfortable.

Darius had bumped into Occellena on a few occasions in the upstairs kitchen. He had spiked his apple blood while she grounded oyster shells into her tea. He had never been one for chit-chat, but she had been nothing but bubbly with him, in spite of his less than enthusiastic responses.

He couldn't determine her skills as a therapist from just a few conversations, but the extensive research he had done to find a qualified candidate had promised that she was highly competent

But was she 'Golden Guard as a client' competent?

Was anyone?

If all else failed, she was sweet. Hunter loved sweet people.

He needed this to go well. If Hunter had a bad therapy experience, it would both stunt his recovery progress and leave him far less willing to try again for the foreseeable future.

Darius resisted the urge to stand up and pace the room, knowing his footsteps would probably disturb Hunter's session.

He noticed that the door remained slightly ajar, which he found peculiar.

Were they not supposed to keep the doors closed? Client confidentiality and all that mumbo jumbo?

Granted, he could not make out the words being said. The pitch of two voices, definitely, but it was all muffled nothingness.

His nerves were barbed during those first few minutes, in which Occellena carried on speaking for several seconds at a time, while Hunter only offered singular sentences as a response.

It was fine, he convinced himself. They were just warming up.

The moments passed, and the session seemed to take a turn in a positive direction.

The seconds in which the slightly lower pitched voice stretched a little bit longer every time he spoke. Louder too.

At some point, he seemed to take off babbling, presumably having one of those obsession buttons pushed.

Darius could only imagine that Occellena had asked about one of Hunter's many passions. That would certainly work wonders.

He had such terrible control of his own volume when he got too eager, so this was a promising sign.

After that, the conversation took a subdued dip, the silences hanging for longer.

And then, he heard footsteps. He straightened his posture, startled by the session seemingly wrapping up so soon.

But no. It was the door clicking shut.

From then on, total silence. Thirty minutes of just Darius, his trashy tales of organ eating athletes, and the vacant uncertainty of how Hunter's first therapy session was going.

And then it was over.

When Darius saw Hunter emerge from the room with Occellena's hand on his shoulder, his eyes were strikingly rimmed with red.

"So I'll see you next week. Don't worry yourself with telling Jewel, I'll have her put it down in the system. Be sure to take it easy for the rest of the evening, alright?"

Though he looked like every ounce of energy had been sapped out of him, Hunter still pulled up a smile for her, and Darius recognized sincere warmth on that face when he saw it.

"I will. Thanks, Occellena,"

And when he approached Darius, he looked relieved, ashamed, and dazed all at once.

"Hey," He greeted, uncharacteristically quiet.

"Hey," Darius responded, softly incredulous. "Shall we go ruin our skin with your accursed bag of grease now?"

His reddened eyes glinted with light boyish amusement. He nodded.

Hunter did not say much during their quest through the Bonesborough marketplace, and Darius vaguely wondered if he should be concerned.

As much as he complained about the boy being an incurable chatterbox, his silence unnerved him.

Hopefully, the session had used up too much of his blabbering muscles.

It wasn't until they were home and seated on opposite ends of the dining room table that Darius understood.

One of his most strictly enforced household rules was that dinner must be served on an actual plate. No takeout containers allowed on his property.

His nose wrinkled in distaste at the atrocity known as deep-fried eyeballs that were making a greasy mess out of his ornate lilac dishes.

Hunter was rolling the unsavoury little orbs around with his fork.

He seemed relaxed, if distracted, so Darius decided to pop the question, only to fill the silence, if anything.

"Do you want to tell me how it went today? With Occellena?"

Hunter's fork went still, but his eyes never dared to draw away from the fatty dinner in front of him.

When he opened his mouth, his bottom lip wobbled, searching for a voice that he did not seem to possess right now.

"It's alright," said Darius. "What happens in therapy stays in therapy. Isn't that what they say?"

Hunter did not respond to that, not even with a glance or a nod or anything of the sort.

He remained hung up on the struggle of getting his initial words out. The bump of his throat bobbed.

Finally, with a small, feeble voice that cracked around the edges, Hunter said, "I didn't think she was gonna be nice to me..."

The silence that fell was born of complete and utter bewilderment. Darius was so flabbergasted by the statement that he spoke before he fully thought it over.

"Well, that is to be expected from therapy," A touch of laughter rose and fell between the words. "I mean, surely you didn't think she would--?"

Darius cut himself off, his smile dropping as he noticed the visible tremor of Hunter's mouth, which he had forced into a thin line.

"Hunter?"

The boy lifted his head, bright brown eyes already pooling with an open, lost, childlike anguish. Then he blinked and it spilled to his cheekbones. He looked to Darius searchingly, like he wanted to ask something, but he could not utter a sound more.

"Hunter...? What did you think was going to happen...?"

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epicbuddieficrecs · 4 months

Text

Weekly Recap | December 25th-31st 2023

Happy New Year everyone! May 2024 be better than 2023, and may season 7 be good to us!!!

Complete

Battle Born by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (NHL AU, Established Buddie | 11K | Teen): Buck comes down with appendicitis during the playoffs. He decides to play through it.

🔥 through tooth and claw (to where you are) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Post-S6, Hurt Buck, Getting Together | 18K | Teen): With a reverent hush, Christopher said, “Whoa, it’s so close.” And it was almost as though Buck needed to have that obvious fact pointed out to him before the vague dread of animal instinct that had been pooling in his stomach could solidify into a real, actionable fear. It’s so close. Something’s wrong. AKA: The Rabid Coyote fic

we’ve got something permanent (i mean in the way we care) by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (PWP, Breeding Kink | 7K | Explicit): Buck has baby fever and it’s Eddie’s job to give him what he wants. Kind of.

Here Where We Should Be (Kiss Me, It’s Christmas) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Christmas, Getting Together | 5K | General): It’s Christmas and Eddie decides he can’t possibly wait any longer to start kissing Buck.

well, I hate to be a bother, but it's you and there's no other by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure (Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Eddie starts dating again and learns a few things about himself. The most surprising one? He's actually ready this time. Now he just needs to get Buck on board.

in a little while (you will find some relief then) by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure (Hurt Buck | 10K | Teen): Buck gets a severe case of poison oak. He handles it about as well as you'd expect.

🔥 The Nearness of You by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Work Trip | 17K | Teen): Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it.

We Can't Succeed but We Love Trying by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Breeding Kink | 15K | Explicit): In which Eddie has the thought that if Buck's gonna "donate" his sperm anywhere, it should be with, well. Eddie.

all it took was a backwards baseball cap by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit) : Or, the one in which Eddie loses his shit at Buck wearing a backwards baseball cap. Seriously, can this man get more attractive? Is he trying to kill Eddie?

drawstrings by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (PWP, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Eddie helps Buck fix his drawstrings. How was he supposed to know it’d lead to him sitting in Bucks lap?

🔥 come with me, together, we can take the long way home (series) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Canon compliant | 105K | T to M):

Get me through the night; Make me feel alright (Post-S3 Finale | 11K | Mature): After an emotionally-gutting reunion with Abby, Buck turns to old coping mechanisms. Eddie helps him find a better way. In Uncertain Times, The Uncertain Rules Apply (Pre-S4 | 22K | Teen): Covid comes to LA. Eddie copes. Or doesn't. Holding out for Something More (Stuck in Reverse) (Post S4E3/Lone Star Crossover | 26K | Teen): LA is coming out of lockdown and the world is returning to some sense of normalcy. But going back to the way things were hurts more than Buck expected. While his therapist challenges him to confront what he really wants, the team takes a trip to Austin... and El Paso. so far from being free (S4E4: 9-1-1 What's Your Grievance?, S4E5: Buck Begins | 46K | Teen): That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible.

carry my heart home to you by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After his parents join him for a therapy session, Buck starts to learn that some people are never going to be able to give you what you need. And some people are.

if you say it with your hands by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (S2 | 10K | Teen): Buck thinks it must be a habit he still hasn’t dropped from his days in the army, or maybe it comes with the territory of being a dad – but Eddie can nap pretty much anywhere. or, Eddie starts casually falling asleep against Buck, and Buck is very normal about it.

🔥 into thirty separate parts by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (S6 | 12K | Teen): “Theoretically,” says Buck, as soon as Eddie picks up the phone, “your ex writes a book about you.” There is a pregnant pause. “…Right,” Eddie decides on, finally. or, Taylor’s book comes out.

close friends (that you lowkey want to fuck, but in a totally platonic way) by rowan_wood/ @transboybuckley (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): Instagram rolls out a new feature, and Buck doesn't totally understand how it works.

I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (POV Bobby, Hurt Eddie, Getting Together | 8K | Teen) Bobby deals with the ramifications of a misplaced confession

Keep My Heart Warm In Yours by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Christmas, Post-S6, Getting Together | 18K | Mature): Christopher decides that he wants to go skiing, Buck makes it happen and the cabin at the foot of the mountains turns out to be quite the romantic backdrop for their little getaway.

Hiding the Christmas Present (of You and Me) by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Christmas | 7K | General): Buck thought he was going to spend Christmas alone. His family decides to correct that assumption.

If I Fall, Can You Pull Me Up? by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Hurt Buck, Established Buddie | 7K | General): Eddie could pick Buck from a million miles away. Buck’s entire being was like one bright light in an otherwise cloudy sky. So, he was really interested to know why some stranger was wearing his boyfriend’s turnout coat and pretending to be him.

Used to Think That Lovin' Meant a Painful Chase by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): It’d been fine when Buck had Eddie’s dick in his mouth. It wasn’t often that Buck got to see Eddie come undone but he’d been treated to a private showing and the pride he had being the one to take Eddie there was indescribable. But then things got… weird. Or maybe, it was Buck that got weird? He still wasn’t really sure where it started, to be honest.

for all the words unspoken by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Work Trip, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): "Buck." Eddie had already dropped his bag and was standing next to the bed, hands on his hips. "We've slept in the same bed before. I'm pretty sure we'll manage to do the same in this one, it's humorously large. Don't!" He held up a hand as Buck opened his mouth. His lips twitched, though, so Buck took it as a win. ... or, the one with only one bed.

underneath the tree by devirnis/ @devirnis (PWP, BDSM | 2K | Explicit): Frowning to himself in concentration, Eddie carefully folds the wrapping paper around the corner of the box. He has no idea how his mother makes this look so easy, even after she walked him through it earlier on FaceTime. Under the tree, Eddie’s present whines plaintively.

WIP

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 20K | 8/? | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 102/? | 276K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Love Ends. by rowan_wood (Exes to Lovers | 4/17 | 5K | Explicit): But what if it doesn't?

in my head by yourcatfishfriend/ @your-catfish-friend (Friends With Benefits | 8/9 | 30K | Explicit): Buck is confidently bisexual. Eddie isn't sure. Buck helps him figure it out.

Re-Read

🔥 Always, All Ways by ashavahishta/ @ashavahishta (A/B/O AU | 85K | Explicit): Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #epic buddie fic rec #911 fanfiction #911 fic #911 fanfic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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WIBTA if I dropped my therapist over his dog training methods?

I (M20) have been struggling to get into therapy for a while now. When I was a minor everyone I talked to said I didn't need therapy, I was just young and stressed out from school. My mental health wasn't taken seriously by doctors or my parents until a suicide attempt a couple months from my 18th birthday, when my parents had me put in a mental health facility until I turned 18. Then they kicked me out, and my mental health had to be put on the back burner because housing mattered more. Now I have housing but no insurance and it took a very long time to find a therapist nearby that would work with me on payments.

I've only seen my therapist (M50s) a couple times, and both times we just did surface level small talk. One thing I really liked about him is he has two golden retriever therapy dogs and he didn't mind me laying with them on the floor for our whole sessions. At one point I mentioned how calm they were and he said he trained them himself from when they were puppies with Cesar Millan's book.

For anyone who doesn't know, Cesar Millan believes in the discredited idea that dogs have hierarchies with an alpha dog at the top, and that humans should assert their dominance over their dog to be the alpha. He believes you should invade your dog's space early and often and intimidate them into obeying you. He's been investigated for animal cruelty and every acclaimed source on dog training will tell you he's full of shit.

I know all this and I've never trained a dog. I would have assumed someone smart like a licensed therapist with trained therapy dogs would also know all this. I didn't want to call him out right to his face so I said something like "I saw an episode of that guy's show once. Doesn't he get up in dogs' faces and then punch them in the throat for snapping at him?" My therapist laughed and said yes but that's only necessary to do to dogs who think they're in charge, and he's never had to do it to his dogs.

I feel kind of shitty for thinking about dropping this therapist when it was such a long hard road to finally get SOMEONE to listen to me, but also I feel like him believing in this bullshit alpha theory and that it's okay to abuse an animal into obeying you.. idk, I don't think I'll ever be able to fully trust anything he says.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

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2 König's and 1 reader is an insane combo. especially when one is younger n the other is older. I'm so happy you wrote younger König as this absolute beast. he's actually crazy and twisted and needs intense therapy but I'm so glad you made him that way cuz you get to see how older König grew to be. he obviously worked hard in life and on himself to be where he's at.

- 💙🐨

I'm so glad you enjoy it because seriously... this AU is playing in my head as an eternal sitcom!

I'd imagine reader gives young König some ultimatums one day, even if she loves it that he's such an unhinged humping beast. This man needs therapy. No pussy for him if he doesn't work on himself a bit! (Cue to older colonel calmly nodding in the background)

Lots of complaining and whining about to ensue when young recruit gets himself a therapist, an older male that reminds him of the stupid, calm, confident Colonel. But little by little, this crazy wacko dude gets some of his shit together...

He starts to bring her flowers sometimes. Treats her more gently and fools around only now and then when he has to let out some steam or if he's too excited to get between her legs. He even talks about his feelings. "I think I'm in love with you," muttered under his breath after an intense love making session. Yes. Love making.

Reader already knows he's been in love for months but hasn't been able to accept that fact, because young König thinks being in love immediately turns him into a weak, sniveling sub.

"Oh König..." she pets his hair and listens to the deep sigh that arises from his chest. Poor thing is only beginning to understand what life is all about. But better late than never, right? ❤️

#double trouble au #2 Königs one reader #answered

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gogolatte · 3 months

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Ok I need you to hear me out! What about dazai, Fyodor and or Nikolai with a s/o that is the psychologist/therapist for their respective organisation! Is reader aware that they are way beyond redemption? Yes, does reader know that they can't fix them? Also yes, but as their s/o they try their best to save the little sanity they have left by reminding them to take their pills/vitamins, having casual therapy sessions with them and comforting them after (btw I don't think any of them would go to therapy on their own so reader being the therapist of the organisation they are in would make more sense for them to communicate and eventually form a relationship, plus I think a emotionally intelligent reader would really balance them out)

Have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate!!!!

omg nonnie, this is very interesting! I tried my best to imagine these three going to therapy… sort of.

please remember to hydrate yourself too<33

Therapist s/o!

✧ contents. sfw!!

I'm kind of sure that a psychologist (and I think a therapist too) is not allowed to have a personal relationship with their patient, so I'd like to think that their relationship with their s/o is a secret, at least inside the organization.

Dazai will come to visit you every day even if it's not necessarily for a therapy session.

He only goes to the Agency to see you— I imagine you have a small office inside the building of the Agency, so whenever Dazai is bored, he leaves the Agency's office and goes downstairs to visit you!

For him, it's a good thing that his s/o is also his therapist because he won't open up with anyone else but you. He would ask for you to run your fingers through his fluffy hair as he tells you how his past memories are still tormenting him sometimes.

Since you're a professional and know so much about people's minds, your conversations are always very deep which he's thankful for; knowing that someone understands him and gives him the comfort that he needs badly.

Dazai doesn't need any type of medication I think. Maybe he'll need to sleep better and eat properly but as long as you sleep with him and remind him to take his meals, he'll do as you said<3

I believe Fyodor doesn't want therapy, or pills, even if he needs them.

You know his physical and mental health are not the best, and he knows it too, but he doesn't care about it that much.

Maybe the roles would turn upside down? He would ask why you have such opinions and would discuss a lot of philosophical stuff about human beings and their lives and the way they socialize with other humans.

Fyodor would be the stubborn type; like, you would tell him to go out for a walk and get some fresh air because he's lacking vitamin D but he only chuckles and says that he doesn't need to, that he's perfectly fine.

A few hours later he would go out for a walk as you said and left a small bouquet of flowers he collected himself on your desk.

Also, he comes to ask for your opinion on important things before doing them!

Nikolai wouldn't take things seriously most of the time. He needs to make silly jokes and tease you as you try to advise him for his own good.

He would gladly take any pills you give him but you need to sit on his lap and give him the pill yourself, then kiss his forehead and call him a good boy. If not, he would refuse the medication.

Sometimes he feels very very down, like; he enters your office with a somber expression and needs to be cuddled as you try to help him solve his problem.

You make him feel happy even if it's just with a kiss on the cheek or words of affirmation<3

Definitely surprises you and teleports behind you as you're doing paperwork.

About his “freedom” thing… As much as you'd like to tell him that it's (almost) impossible, he won't stop trying to reach his goal and will keep on telling you with a big smile how he plans to achieve it. Well… At least he's still your Nikolai for now.

2024 © pinklacydovey

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 1 year

Text

And sorry I just had a lot of ideas but this is last one. Anyone you want with psychologist reader. Basically they go to him as parient on theraphy and share secrets and traumas with him which basically causes to get close with them

With a psychologist reader

Angel Dust

Angel was having a bad week. Oh fuck it, he was having a bad fucking year. But he couldnt say that shit else he get a nice new shiner from dear Daddy Val.

He kept having breakdowns. Freaking out or having panic attacks when he needed to keep his shit together.

It got so bad, he actually couldn't preform, and no amount of beatings or drugs were helping anymore.

So, wanting to protect his investment, Valentino would bring him to you. You being a well known psychotherapist, helping numerous celebrities better themselves, completely turning themselves around after seeing you.

At least for a while.

So, he dumped Angel at your door, the Overlord trying to get you to essentially brainwash him to further obey him, planning to use you to keep him under control.

Of course, you shut that shit down immediately.

You told him bluntly you'd do what's necessary to help your patient, and that was Angel.

Val didn't say much, telling you simply he could find someone else, to which you told him good luck, knowing full well itd be impossible to find a therapist of your calibre who wouldnt milk him for every penny they could if thry could do their job at all, effectively calling his bluff.

You said all this in front of the Spider, the man feeling... well, it felt nice to have someone taking him seriously. Not like Val that treated him like a train dog.

Now, your first few sessions were just tredding ground, getting to know the Spider and gaining some familiarity with him. You may have stood up to Val but you'd had enough clients to know he wouldn't just open up.

So, the first few appointments you just spoke, spending time with him, asking genuine questions about him.

Not his Angel Dust persona.

Him.

Youd ask about his likes and dislikes.

You know, favourite music, the food he likes, his thoughts on the current events in Hell.

And while it would certainly take time, slowly chipping away at his mask, he'd begin opening up to you.

Of course, Valentino, the massive Cock-Head! Kept putting you back, the man being his usual abusive self. And after each of these incidents, the spider would pull in on himself, making your job even more difficult.

So, you confronted the man, telling him as much, as every smack he gave the arachnid put you back weeks! And despite his domineering personality, he'd back down, agreeing to stop the abuse.

'For now.' The moth pimp added, raising your blood pressure.

Youd make progress on the man's issues, slowly directing and fixing the many traumas and problems the man endured, the Spider visible getting better, cutting back on most of the shit he took in.

At least around you.

It'd be during one of your sessions, you having the Spider just ramble, saying whatever came to mind, letting him get anything he'd like off his chest.

And as he rambled he'd end up on a tangent on how much he hated working for Valentino and how miserable he was working for him.

It was your first major breakthrough, and well, the one you needed to finally get through.

You seized the situation, breaking him down to the bare Demonic soul, the man confessing every insecurity, spilling his heart out to you.

But then came the issue. Because put simply, Valentino was the Issue. But Angel couldn't just leave Val, that's not how the game worked.

So, you did the only thing you could.

Call in a favour.

Now, you'd helped a Looooooot of people.

Powerful people.

The Noble demon kinda powerful people.

So getting someone to help... remove Valentino from the equation wasn't that difficult.

Once he was free of that man's influence Angel really shined through.

He became more confident. More self assured.

He reduced his alcohol and narcotic consumption to a tenth of when he was with Val.

Honestly he was a whole new Angel, and you were happy to see it.

But, well, this is Angel. And even without the pressure or need to hyper sexualise himself, he'd still flirt with you.

And it'd actually be the day you finally cleared him, believing him to finally be well enough to be discharged from your service, that the spider would ask you out.

And since he was no longer your client, you said yes, the two of you going out to a quant little restaurant together.

It was a... charmingly simple night.

Neither of you said much. The usually chatty spider calm and docile as you ate, the both of you feeling everything that needed to be said... had been said.

Youd go home that night. The spiders hand in your own, as you went back to your place.

Nothing would happen between you that nigh. You were still seeing how a relationshipwould go, trying the waters as it were, so you didnt want to force anything.

Angel for his part, and for the first time, well... ever, felt safe. Understood.

And well, cared about.

The spider genuinely happy to be with you.

Stolas

Youd always been fascinated my how the mind works.

Specifically, how it handled trauma.

It fascinated you how the mind bent and melted, handling or rejecting trauma.

And if there was any group in Hell with issue, it was the Nobility.

Now, it took you a while to find a noble that was willing to pay you to help them, most nobility just expecting things presented to them on a silver platter.

But once you did get your foot in the door, helping a man with some deep seeded inferiority issues. Helping him become the egomaniac he was supposed to be.

And when it got out you could help them with their many, many, MANY issues, and do so descreetly. By God, they flocked to you.

A barrage of daddy issues, child abuse, neglect, regulat abuse and trauma the likes you hadn't thought possible.

And you got good, and rich, helping people with their issues. Learning an abundance on how personality was shaped by abuse. Picking up the patterns and soding that was left with different traumas.

Youd gotten yourself set up, each patient a virtual case study.

And it'd be as you sat in your office, looking over a patient's file, when there was a knock at the door.

Popping the files away, you called them in, coming face to face with an owl demon.

We was unexpectedly timid upon entry, walking around the subject as he asked you if you could help someone with... their issues.

That someone was clearly him.

But you could tell he was trying to be discreet, not like he was the first one, so you played along.

And after assuring him you could help him, explaining you provided a safe, descreet and judgement free service tailored for each client, that he'd agree.

The first few sessions were slow, the two of you just making generic, borderline formal chit chat, Stolas venting to you about his day or something that was erking him.

But after a few sessions, you began making progress, treading new ground. He began opening up to you about his issues. And there were quite a few.

A father that didn't give a shit about him past his utility to the Goetia family. An abusive wife he was betrothed to before he was even hatched simply to produce an heir.

And a completely dead marriage.

No.

Dead implies it was alive at some point. And based on what he had to say about it, it sounded like his spouse was beating the corpse of said "marriage".

So yeah, other than a daughter, he didn't really have anything worth living for. Which, ya know... isn't a good thing.

It took a long time really figuring out what ailed his mind.

There were many sessions that ended up with him in tears, you ending up hugging him, comforting him each time as he sobbed into your shirt.

And while you did your best to remain professional, there were more than a few occasions when you'd stare into each other's eyes for just a little too long. Followed by you awkwardly looking away, clearing your throat.

It took many session, time, care and a small fortune in fees, but you ended with the most logical conclusion.

He needed to divorce his bitch of a wife.

Stolas knew it.

You knew it.

But knowing it, and doing it were very different thing.

Of course, normally that'd be his problem.

But, well, you liked Stolas. Youd done the major no-no of running a practicr and and had gotten attached to him. So you called in some favours to ensure it'd go smoothly.

Of course you kept it all behind the scenes, setting things up so Stolas could escape with a minimal amount of drama.

And so, with a little encouraging from you, as a friend, not his therapist. He'd do it.

He'd tell her they were done and he was sick of her.

Of course the fallout was... not that bad. At least compared to our timeline, especially since Stolas had measures prepared before he did it.

He arrived the next day, you asking him how he felt, Stolas telling you he felt... Free.

Things would be difficult, but for the first time, he felt free.

You'd talk some more, monitoring his progress and development, ensuring he didn't fall back on any of his inhealthy coping mechanisms. And once the time had run out, he'd ask if there were anymore sessions.

Youd smile, telling him, well, no.

He'd resolved his problem, and well, he was done. No more sessions really needed.

To which Stolas would ask if that means if he were no longer your patient.

You confirming it, telling him you were no longer doctor and patient.

Hed nod, before leaning over, grabbing you by the collar just to slam his mouth into yours, the man forcefully kissing you.

The kiss lasted several moments before he pulled back, the man stuffing a note into your pocket, telling you.

"I'll be picking you up at 7. Dress sharp."

And then he'd leave.

Leaving you bewildered and, well, slightly aroused. Sat there thinking one thing.

"Well... what am I gonna wear?"

Valentino

Val wasn't weak.

He didn't need help, or to rely on anyone.

He earned everything he had through cunning and brutality, and would be damned if he needed some shitty head doctor to 'fix' his 'condition.'

But every day, he was filled with the killer of empires.

Doubt.

And doubt led to fear.

And fear led to the dark side.

Was he making the right move? Should he have killed that last guy? Was there a better way of doing that?

It was getting on his nerve and he was sick of it!

So, he found the best, most discreet, psychologist money could buy.

And that's how he found himself walking into your office.

He of course was his ever domineering self, trying to tell you how this would work.

To which you'd listen until he was finished, and once you were sure he'd finished his rant, you tell him simply how it would actually be.

Youd work through at his pace, but doing what you'd say and when. In that room Valentino held no power, but you also held no wish to control him.

You were his patient, and so, you would do your job.

You would help him.

Things went slow at first, Valentino still demanding to be in control, and so you'd have to slowly ease him into it.

You were firm, but not confrontational, letting him feel in control, while trying to figure out just why he needed to feel in control.

Though it was pretty clear, he was an overlord. He had to be in control else he'd loose... everything.

But really, he was just running on survival mode 24/7, and simply put, the mind couldn't handle being on edge every second of every day.

It took a long, long time to get that through to him, but really, it was a simple answer.

He'd reverted back into a Darwinian philosophy. And while many can like relatively normal lives with such a philosophy, he'd actually conditioned himself to abide by such rules, to the point his body physically reacted to every change in his environment. The man constantly stressed and unable to sleep, the drugs only able to keep things on the level for so long.

It'd take a long time to get to this conclusion, and an even longer to start unwinding it.

A lot of explaining and reconditioning, slowly unwinding the trauma he had to endured and inflicted on himself, sure enough, over time, he'd start relaxing.

He was still on edge, but he was slowly learning to take breaks, usually somewhere safe where he could be alone.

The man starting to understand, and rework himself into a more level headed existence.

It was strange for the man.

He'd spent hours rambling at you, answering hundreds of stupid questions, working through a shit load of nitty gritty bullshit he'd never think about.

But, sure enough, one day you asked him a question, and well, he answered.

Honestly.

He gave a genuine, true blue answer. And he could answer without spending 30 minutes figuring out if it was a trick, nor did he give some vague answer to hide the truth.

It felt weird, being honest with someone, and, well, it felt good.

He could be real with someone. No lies No tough guy persona. No alpha bullshit.

Just him.

And well, he couldn't deny, having a connection like that was... amazing.

And so, well naturally, he found himself growing affection for you. The first person he could be real with.

He'd initially disguise his feeling as simply working through any other issue he might have had, the man paying you top dollar to spend even more time with you.

But eventually he'd get sick of making up reasons to be around you.

So he was honest.

Again, a rare act on his part.

But he went all out, telling you he wanted you. He wanted the commitment, a genuine relationship, not just him using his partner for his own gain like every other connection he had.

Youd be hesitant, but after an especially genuine moment with him, you'd agree to a date.

A REAL date. With the real him.

And yeah, everything inside him told him to go all out, utilising his usual power and prestige.

But not this night.

That night you just had a simple dinner, followed the both of you sharing a bottle of wine, bonding on the couch.

And no, you didn't fall into his arms like averyone else did.

And,he loved that.

With you he was honest and genuine, and well, he loved that he could be that way, the two of you having a bond he could never have with anybody else in Hell.

And yeah he had to hide that bond from most anybody else, when in private he still got to enjoy it, the man having something to fight for more than just a never ending thurst for power.

Loona

Honestly, she'd first seen you as a gag.

She'd gotten a coupon for a free session in some magazine Blitz had snatched from Stolas.

And after she'd stormed out of the office with said magazine, the girl reading through it, finding your coupon.

So, ripping it out, she figured it was a good way to waste an hour, tormenting some stuffy head quack.

And so, finding your office, she'd strut in, showing the coupon. And since you had nothing better to do, you'd agree to see her.

At first you'd play along with what she was clearly expecting, asking the usual questions.

And yeah, Loona fucked around, acting like a little shit.

But after a while you'd get into some real shit. Asking about her home life, and those directly around her.

She'd whine and complain, giving a biased retelling, events through from her perspective.

But you could see through it, asking her harder and harder questions, the girl eventually snapping at you.

Only for you to snap back.

You told her her feelings were real and valid, but she needed to accept that she wasn't always the victim and sometimes problems were her own fault.

Loona, as whenever she was challenged with something she didn't like and couldn't kick the shit out of.

She bolted.

Despite dropping you, she couldn't get over the damn harsh truth bombs you'd dropped on her.

So, convincing Blitz to get more of the magazines, she'd cut out the coupons, taking them to you to talk.

She'd confront you, and while initially hostile, the two of you would actually have some meaningful dialogue, Loona having to face some harsh truths. But you also helped her face some problems with others, particularly her relationship with her father.

She'd keep scaving magazines off of Blitz, the two of you chatting almost every day, you providing some much needed outlet for many, many confusing emotions for the teen.

And it'd be after bumping into each other at a coffee shop that you'd actually chat.

Not just dig up loonas many issue, but just talking, like two normal people.

She was a surprisingly chill young lady when not having to think about her many flaws and problems. But you were just happy to chat, it being rare you got to speak with someone outside the office. And we'll, Loona certainly lived an interesting life.

The girl would use a dozen more coupons, spending most days in your office, you often scheduling appointments in accordance, each session steadily getting through her swamp off issues.

But you'd also meet up at that coffee shop, the two of you bonding outside the sessions, chatting away like regular people.

And honestly, the two of you getting increasingly close, and look, you were a professional, but after a particularly fiery session, the two of you going at each other, that you'd, well, youd kiss.

The strange development between the two of you seemingly finally coming to ahead.

And it'd be a Hell of a kiss, the two of you becoming ravenous, things quickly getting out of hand. And undressed.

After that things would be... awkward. Very awkward.

Naturally.

But, after some discussion you'd decide to keep your sessions and whatever was happening between you aside, Loona admittedly feeling like the sessions were working.

And now that you were technically seeing each other on the side, she'd finally have someone she could build a healthy relationship with.

Of course you had to be careful she didn't become too emotionally relient on you, not wanting her to develope unhealthy reliance on you, while also being a caring S/O for the girl, using your expertise to help develop healthier outlets for her anger and frustration.

The two of you would take things slow and steady, you and Loona developing a meaningful relationship, one the both of you would adore, coming to truly love each other.

Though you'd gotten the Silent treatment more then once when you brought up an issue she had during an argument.

Hey everybody.

I haven't forgotten about you I swear, just been doing my own life, trying to get my house together. But I remember and still love you guys.

I'll try and post more than I have, but no promises.

Love y'all!

#submission #helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #helluva boss headcanon #hazbin hotel #helluva boss x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #stolas x reader #loona x reader #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss loona #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust x reader

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suzukiblu · 2 months

Text

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for @autumnal-dcthings; JayKon soulmates, TimKon datemates, and the wrong Superboy. TW for some very vague nsfw themes/thoughts and a touch of dubcon; cut for length.

“Who says you’re the one who deserves entertained here?” Jason snorts, baring his teeth. Fake Superboy’s smirk turns decidedly dirty, and he rolls his hips up against Jason’s jock. His dick feels at least as hard as the armor.

Like, not in the sense that the guy actually has a hard-on right now. Just in the “his dick is definitely indestructible” sense. Jason’s fucking stupid brain is having a little bit of trouble parsing the difference right now, though.

Also part of him’s kind of wondering how that works in the–for fuck’s sake, he’s going to book two extra therapy sessions this week. Maybe more! Who the fuck knows, at this point!

This whole thing is just such fucking bullshit.

“TTK is like, a passive perception thing, you know,” fake Superboy mentions casually, which seems like an interesting piece of information for a body-hijacker to have, Jason notes to himself, barely resisting the urge to narrow his eyes assessingly. “I can feel everything you’ve got whenever I want.”

“That doesn’t sound very ‘passive’,” Jason observes dubiously. Pretty much the opposite of it, in fact.

“I can feel it when you look at me, too,” fake Superboy hums, tilting his head, then grins wickedly. “Even through the mask.”

Jason, immediately, regrets every time he ever checked out Superboy when he had a mask or helmet on and the opportunity, including the pre-soulmate-realization times. And also, it’s seeming increasingly likely that this asshole might have access to Superboy’s memories, assuming that wasn’t just a lucky guess or a cold read. Definitely not reading his mind, though, or they’d know the jig was already up here.

But if the actual Superboy is actually aware of just how many times Jason’s checked him out, he should maybe just go face-first into another crowbar.

He should definitely do that, actually.

“High opinion of yourself there,” he says, and fake Superboy preens.

“Yeah, you’ve been giving me one,” he says with a sharp grin. Jason longs for those theoretical kryptonite brass knuckles. “Makes a boy feel downright pretty.”

Prick.

“Shut up,” Jason says, and picks the least annoying option of several very annoying options and kisses him again. Fake Superboy makes a surprised little sound, barely discernible, and then a performatively smug one, and kisses him back.

This sucks. And not because fake Superboy is such a lousy kisser.

. . . mostly not, anyway.

Sue him, Jason would rather the stupid presumably-evil doppelganger he's making out with right now knew how to kiss no matter who they looked like.

God, his life is fucking pathetic and weird and his priorities are absolutely fucked. He seriously needs to get a fuckbuddy with complementary psychological issues to his own. Meet a nice vengeful bastard and work out some stress or whatever.

His therapist would not agree, but his therapist isn’t getting hit on by a fake version of the soulmate who’s dating her brother, is she, Denise.

This whole situation is actually even more stupid than telling a woman named “Denise” all his issues translated for civilian ears, but such is his fucking life.

Why didn’t he just stay dead again? Because he definitely could’ve just stayed dead. Like, there were multiple opportunities for that. He was in fact spoiled for opportunities for that.

“I like it when you look at me, Hood,” fake Superboy murmurs between their mouths, his voice low and throaty and sounding just like all of Jason’s dirtiest daydreams. Jason, again, thinks longingly of kryptonite. This asshole can’t kiss, no, but he sure as shit can talk. “Gets me kinda . . . excited, you know?”

Jason wants to blow up this entire fucking building. Or block.

Or city, maybe.

Where the fuck is his backup? Is there an all-hands going that nobody thought to mention to him? An apocalypse he somehow didn’t notice? For fuck’s sake, it’s supposed to be a goddamn panic button, not a “hey, if you’ve got a sec” kind of thing!

Not that he has any personal trauma about anybody showing up too late to do him any good or anything like that, of course. Definitely not.

Maybe it’s gonna have to just be daily sessions this week.

“Did I tell you to shut up or not?” Jason says, baring his teeth again and internally promising himself he’s going to read Bruce for filth after the bastard’s fucked up the response time here so phenomenally, whenever said bastard can actually be bothered to show up. He doesn’t care if his fucking spine’s broken again, at this point.

Fake Superboy laughs, and kisses him again.

#dc-autumnalthings #wip: jaykon soulmates and timkon datemates #dubcon

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 5 months

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Adrien is Marinette's Therapist, NOT her Boyfriend and it's Gross

Mental health struggles are no joke and, if you have those struggles, then you absolutely need a partner who will support you through them. That's why, at face value, Adrien supporting Marinette with her PTSD and anxiety is very sweet. It's what a good boyfriend should do. The problem is that Adrien is being written like her therapist, not her boyfriend.

Adrien has his own struggles with depression, loss, and paternal neglect. Yet none of these struggles are brought up once Adrien and Marinette get together. Instead, the relationship is all about her needs and struggles even though this season ends with Gabriel's take down, meaning that focusing on Adrien's issues would have made more sense from a narrative perspective. How much more powerful would the final have been if Marinette really understood Adrien, Emilie, and Gabriel's relationship?

But why do that when we can make everything about Adrienette instead? Why bother to mention Emilie when Marinette is a much better point of conflict between Adrien and Gabriel? After all, if we did that, then Adrien would have a life outside of Marinette and that would be, well, sigh, let's get into it, shall we?

In Derision, we learn that Marinette apparently doesn't have some form of anxiety or ADHD or any of the other things that people have theorized over the years. No, vanilla-Marinette is a totally relaxed, go-with-the-flow non-planner who only started planning after Chloe, Sabrina, and Kim gave her PTSD. Does this insult her character and make no sense? Yes, but let's not get into that. Let's just accept the retcon and look at the fallout of Adrien knowing that his new girlfriend has massive trauma that's mainly focused on romance and controlling situations.

The very next episode is Intuition. In it we see Marinette calling Adrien to show off her ability to do things without planning (or, at least, with less planning) and it's clear from context that this is an exercise that they're doing:

Adrien: Well... (his phone rings) Fancy that! Marinette! I like spending time with Marinette. (picks up his phone) Marinette: (on-call) Guess what I'm calling for: nothing! Can you believe it? I'm calling you randomly, totally out of the blue, for no reason at all! Adrien: So you didn't write down everything you might need to say to me based on everything I might say to you? Marinette: Not at all! Well... I did. I really tried not to, you know, but it was too hard! Anyhow, I limited myself to fourteen possible conversations, including this one! Adrien: Congratulations! Marinette: (on-call) Thank you! Adrien: And did you prepare questions for science class? Marinette: (on-call) Not-a-one! Not even for the live video conference we're doing with Max's mom on the super awesome Tsurugi space jet! I, Marinette, will improvise questions, unpredictably, without planning anything!

In the context of the show, this conversation is deeply concerning and I don't know wtf the writers think they're doing. There is no way in hell that a 14-year-old should be guiding his girlfriend through a therapy session or therapy exercise unless he has the guidance and approval of a trained mental health professional.

Seriously look at what Adrien is doing in this dialogue: Marinette tells him that she's called him without planning and he doesn't just say "that's great!" Instead, he asks if that's true, congratulates her for her mild improvement, and then prompts her to talk about another situation where she would plan things out. In other words, he's asking about the therapy homework that he's clearly given her or that they've decided on together. It's also clear that this isn't their first discussion on the topic because he's very comfortable knowing what to ask about to see if she's done her homework right.

Why was this homework chosen? Who knows! It certainly wasn't picked by someone with training! A therapist wouldn't tell you to avoid planning for a school assignment (something that we've never seen Marinette overplan before, but once again, we're ignoring the retcon). This scene would arguably be inappropriate for an established adult relationship, but a nascent teenage one? Absolutely not.

My SO and I have both done therapy and seen wildly unbalanced relationships. This conversation threw massive red flags for us on both fronts. This is not what a healthy relationship looks like. This is not a give and take. This is why you need a therapist to at least guide you through this type of situation or you will set yourself up in roles where person A is not getting their needs met because the relationship has an established dynamic where person A is the giver and person B is the taker.

This is especially true for a young relationship that's just getting its feet off of the ground. They're supposed to be in the honeymoon phase! More established relationships are better able to handle phases where one person needs more support than the other which absolutely happens and is totally normal. However, when those things happen, it's vital for the supporting partner to have their own support since they can't get it from their partner.

Miraculous denies Adrien this suport. In the very next episode, we get this:

Adrien: I've always seen Marinette acting funny in my presence. I thought that was just the way she was. I thought it was sweet. I thought it was just her charm. But now that I know it's because she loves me and she freaks out about telling me, I feel bad. Because it means that this whole time she's been uncomfortable around me, and I haven't done anything to help her. Kagami: But you didn't know. Adrien: It doesn't take away from her suffering. I just wish she could feel more at ease when she's with me. Otherwise, one day, it'll be too late and she'll give up. Kagami: What can I do to help, Adrien? Adrien: Thanks, but it's not up to you or anyone else to help. I'm the one who's gotta do something.

No! Adrien, you are not equipped to deal with this solo. Ask Kagami to help! Ask Alya to help! Ask Marinette's parents to help! There are times when it's okay to involve others in your relationship and this is one of those times! This isn't even a relationship issue! It's a mental health issue! I know we're flipping gender roles here, but it's not somehow cute or healthy just because a guy is trying to "fix" the girl for once. No one should try to take on that task. This is what therapy is for.

If therapy is not an option for financial or other reasons, then yes, sometimes you have to struggle through and loved ones can help, but in TV land? Especially aimed-at-kids TV land? Show the ideal scenario! At the very least, show a support network! And I mean actual support, not Kagami asking to help and Adrien shooting her down! Writers, you are making Gabriel's dislike of Marinette valid! You are making it so that she is dragging Adrien down! Stop doing that!

Adrien deserves love and support, too. Adrien deserves to be romanced. Adrien deserves more than a kiss and an "I love you" that he had to fight to hear! He never even gets one of the presents from Marinette's chest. She did more to woo him before they got together and it's such pathetic writing.

The fun of getting these two together is letting them do all the stuff they've always wanted to do! Let Marinette bring him macrons! Let him bring her roses! Let her enhance his wardrobe! Let him write her poems! Let them be a healthy, balanced, sickeningly-cute couple! It's fine if she's nervous at the start and takes a while to act normal, but this show takes it to a level beyond teenage jitters and it's not funny or cute. It's concerning.

All of these issues start with Derision's romance-based-PTSD retcon and it was the worst thing they could have done for the Love Square. It poisons the rest of the season and is why I just can't ship these two in canon even though I love what they could have been. They have established such a horrifically unhealthy dynamic that I can't see this ending well unless they get couple's therapy in the very near future and that's not even touching on the baggage that will come from the lies and still unresolved Ladynoir trauma.

As soon as Marinette has romance-based PTSD, she was incapable of being in a relationship until after she'd learned to manage her PTSD. (PTSD cannot be cured, btw, you just learn how to manage it and the symptoms can lessen.) The writers apparently knew that. It's why they gave her a therapist to support her as she worked through her issues and got to the point where she can say "I love you". His name is Adrien. Isn't he cute?

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #adrien deserves better #suffering through a rewatch of season 5 for love of my so #ml intuition #ml derision #ml perfection #marinette deserves better #I just wanted a cute romance not whatever the writers think they're doing

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ailithnight · 1 year

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After this chapter, I will no longer be doing a taglist. Sorry folks, there's just too many of y'all and I'm on mobile. Please subscribe on AO3 for updates, or follow the tag A King in Arkham.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 4

AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Danny. I understand you don't want to go with your godfather. Is there a reason for that?

Can't go with Vlad!

If you know something we don't about him, you need to tell us. Otherwise he will win custody.

It's.. He'll.. he'll make me.. turn me.. his fault!

What's his fault, Danny?

His fault. All his. All.. My.. no, my fault. It's all my fault...

Danny?

IT'S MY FAULT! I KILLED THEM! ALL DEAD! Because of me...

Now Danny, I'm sure that's not true. What happened at the Nasty Burger-

I made it happen.

Corporate negligence-

He knew. I knew. Dan knew what would happen. Dan made it happen. He knew the sauce was gonna blow. He knew Lancer would arrange the meeting there. He cheated. He lured them there. He bound them up so they couldn't escape and ran the time out until they exploded! Dan did that and Dan was me, so I did that.

Daniel...?

I murdered them. I murdered everyone.

Da-

IT'S ALL MY FAU- *static*

Tim started talking after the audio cut to static.

"What you just heard is the last, partially recovered therapy session of Danny's in Chicago. The cameras were beyond salvaging. No one except Danny knows what happened after the audio cuts. What is known is that nearby witnesses heard what they claim sounded like a 'screaming moan' coming from the therapy room. When doctors and staff went to check; the therapist Mrs. Alders was slumped against the wall, appearing to have been forcefully pushed, with minor head trauma. Danny was curled up on the other side of the room, panicking and muttering about a Dan.

While Mrs. Alders mostly recovered from the incident, she does not know how she ended up slammed against the wall. Once this audio was recovered, it was turned over to the police. Given the severity of the... confession... in conjunction with the apparent assault, the courts decided to move Danny to an asylum for the criminally insane." Tim paused in the debrief, letting the information sink in. After a moment, Duke raised his hand. Jason scoffed at the action.

"This ain't kindergarten kid, say your bit."

"I just, that explains why an asylum in general. But why Arkham?" Tim nodded, pulling up a picture of a document.

"Kid's godfather, business tycoon and multimillionaire, Vlad Masters. Insisted that if his godson should have to go to an asylum, he'll go to the- and I quote- 'Best in the country.' Made a deal with the state that he'll foot the bill while he continues fighting for custody. Apparently didn't do his research enough to know that 'Best Known' and 'Best' are not the same." Bruce had the next question.

"So, Master's doesn't have custody yet?"

"Nope." Tim popped his 'p', pulling up more documents. Investigative reports. "Given Danny's reactions to him, CPS started investigating. Found a lot of shady shit. Narcissism, anger issues, control issues, coercion tactics.

One agent said he tried to bribe her with a rather large sum of money, which she might have taken if she wasn't well enough off from a family inheritance and mostly doing this work for the kids. Of course, same agent also said he had 'Rancid vibes' and 'tried to posses' her, but her 'Grammy's necklace protected her' so her credibility was deemed iffy.

Still, there's enough there that it's unlikely Masters will be able to gain custody any time soon. So if Gotham's favorite serial adopter with a good track record for helping troubled kids, Brucie Wayne, were to step in..." Tim's smirk is infectious and makes its way around the table. Bruce's lips twitch ver briefly into a fond smile, before dropping back into a frown.

"What do you make of the... confession?" Jason doesn't even try to hold in his groan.

"Seriously, B? It was survivor's guilt or some kind of psychotic episode or something." Damian frowns.

"I would not discredit him so quickly, Hood. After all, his ghosts are real apparently."

"Hnn." Bruce gets that look on his face. The almost constipated frown that means he is going to have to do something unpleasant like host a gala or attend a business meeting or, "I will have to call Constantine to verify what the entity we are dealing with is."

Jason lets out a gleeful snort. "Have fun with that one, B. In the mean time can I go break our kid out yet or what?"

"Actually, Hood," Jason turns a glare on Tim, who is once again holding his hands up placatingly. "That still leaves us with the issue of making him an escapee and you an accomplice."

"Well fuckin Brucie Wayne can't exactly just walk up to Arkham and ask if they've got any blue eyed black haired boys for him to adopt."

"Not exactly what I'm suggesting here." Batman sighs.

"What are you suggesting." Tim pulls out a case he had tucked under the desk, a truly devious smirk painted across his face.

"Just a little temporary theft. Only long enough to put the kid's face on the news for Brucie to stumble across." He opens the case, sliding it over to Jason. Inside, a replica of a relic from Tim's own past; resized to fit his bigger, broader brother. "You remember Red X, don't you?"

The green that had been tinting Jason's vision the whole meeting finally subsides, giving way to wicked mirth.

"Oh, hell yes."

Batman sighs.

"You don't get it do you? I'm still here. I still exist. That means you still turn into me."

Another night, another nightmare of a memory jolting Danny back into the waking world. His chest is tight, a high whine suppressing itself in the back of his throat. Danny's eyes dart around his room, searching for the shadowy void of his most frequent visitor. But Spectra isn't there tonight. She hasn't come back since she was seen by Banana Bat.

It's strange. Danny had gotten used to waking up with her there, towering over him, shadowy clawed hand resting somewhere on his body as she feasted on his misery. He didn't mind, really. He had plenty to give and she didn't even rough him up too bad. Just enough to keep the psyches concerned. The last 3 days without her presence had been... not lonely. Danny was already lonely. But emptier. Like the one good thing his continued existence was doing for someone had been ripped away.

Truly, Danny felt he had nothing left in this world. Nothing to give, nothing to gain. But he couldn't die. Couldn't unleash full ghost Phantom on the world again. That's what created Dan. No, this was what he had to give. All he had to give. To stay human so that Dan never becomes ghost. To live, as the least burden he could be, so that Dan never died.

Clockwork must have known what would happen if Danny fully died. That must be why he spared him. The Observants sentenced Danny to death. But Clockwork was smarter. He sentenced Danny to life. And really, it's such a small price to pay for the sins of his other self.

Despite what the others say, Arkham isn't hell. The only issue Danny's had was the clown and that's not really anyone's fault. It's just, Danny looked at the Joker and he saw Freakshow. And he saw that stupid staff. And he heard that grating laugh. And all he could think about was how that was the only thing that could still turn him into Dan. If the clown took control again. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't! Not becoming a Dan, not becoming a problem; that's all he could do now! He couldn't he couldn't he couldn't...

Danny was broken out of his spiraling thoughts by the now familiar buzzing echoing clanging sound of another break out. He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Then, suddenly, he was lifted up, hoisted onto someone's shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"Damn kid, do you weigh anything?"

Danny's eyes flew open, his body subconsciously tensed for a fight Danny wouldn't actually fight. The voice, clearly modulated, sounded high and breezy. His head turned to look at the person now forcefully evicting him from his room. Black body suit. White mask. Red slashes in a stylized X. Built like his Dad... Danny had no idea who this was.

For a moment, Danny felt a twinge of fear. He had no idea who this was. They obviously weren't with Arkham. They had just stolen him from his room and, holy shit they were flying now. No. Not flying, grappling. And running. Moving very fast towards the exit. With Danny. For unknown reasons.

Holy shit, someone was kidnapping a teenager from an insane asylum. That, probably wasn't good. Any normal or sane person would be scared for their health and wellbeing. But, well... Danny was hardly normal. And sane was becoming increasingly questionable.

And this guy, well he didn't trigger Danny's ghost sense. No chilly breath escaping his mouth. So he was human, not a ghost. It's not like a human could kill Danny. Not with his ghostly healing factor. Sure, they could make his life a living hell. Beat him, violate him, enslave him. But a human couldn't turn him into Dan so... Danny doesn't think he really cares.

"Um, why are you carrying me?"

"Taking you out of here."

"Clearly, I meant why?"

"Owe someone a favor." That was mildly concerning. Danny could think of one person who would stoop to this.

"Did Vlad send you?"

"Master's? Nope. He couldn't afford my services."

"Oh. Okay." As long as it wasn't Vlad. They were almost to the main gate now. There was screaming behind them, now. Danny loomed behind them as the person grappled up the wall and vaulted them over. Danny caught the barest glimpse of the twink in a burlap sack mask striding out the door, leaving a noxious cloud in his wake.

Then they're gone, grappling to then moving across rooftops. It's not a bad feeling. Kinda fun even. Flying as a ghost was nice. Really nice. But different from this. Gravity literally didn't touch you if you didn't want it too. But this? Danny could feel the pull of the earth, the force of every swing. Gravity was still there, exerting its influence, but they were defying it.

For a tiny moment, Danny felt the ghost of a smile on his lips. The good feeling was fleeting, like all his feelings these days. But it was there and it was enough to shock a small "Oh." from Danny.

"Oh what, runt?"

"Nothing, just. Never grappled before. S'nice."

"Oh." It was such a soft thing, Danny once more found himself pondering the intentions of his kidnapper.

"Do I get to know where we're going?"

"Safe house for the night. I'm your baby sitter."

"And tomorrow?"

"We'll see."

"...Okay."

The next morning, Vicki Vale stumbles across the story of her career (so far) sitting dazed and confused in her office. A prepubescent boy in an oversized Arkham uniform? The day after a breakout where Scarecrow and only one other inmate escaped? Oh this is bound to sell.

Okay, I know the show pretty heavily implies that Teen Titans Robin us Dick.

But

What if it was Tim?

#A King in Arkham #DP x DC #my writing #will taglist later #bedtime

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