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mrs-weasley-reid · 2 years

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THERAPY SESSIONS•••

bau!team x psychiatrist!reader ↳ part 2 here

Synopsis: you have been a longtime psychiatrist for the BAU team. Always there to listen to their troubles. But what if you mysteriously disappear? WARNING: use of y/n and l/n. curse(s?). mentions of trauma (kind of) A/N: nothing sweets, enjoy!

Monday, 11:04 AM

"Have you heard from Dr. L/N? I wanted to schedule my next appointment but can't reach her cell." Spencer, being your frequent visitor, asked his teammates as he stared at his flip phone in deep thought. Maybe the problem was his phone?

Emily turned her seat, legs crossed and arms flat on the armrests of her chair. "I actually wanted to schedule one yesterday. I couldn't reach her cell either." She shrugged, leaning backward.

Derek rolled his eyes, "Maybe she's on a date? Let the woman have a life." He was your newest patient, though you have been listening to his troubles for 2 years.

You have been the BAU team's psychiatrist for the past six years, or more, you couldn't remember. All you could remember was how they slowly piled, one by one, into your office and shared their deepest sorrows in the safety of your listening ear.

It started when Spencer needed someone to rant to. He arrived at your clinic, soaking wet from the rain and clutching your business card in his hand. You were about to leave for the day, but you didn't mind the extra hours you had to spend.

Then came JJ, who brought up her concerns for Spencer but was completely anxious over different things. She was the sweetest woman alive that you have ever met. And it sometimes pained you to know that she had to endure adversities.

The others crammed right in like children asking for a little bit of company in the dark, and you were more than happy to provide them with a cozy sofa and a listening ear.

Spencer and Emily let go of the topic. Derek was right. They had to let you have a life outside of work, outside of listening to their cries. They bothered you with the shallowest inconvenience 24/7, and it didn't sit right to deprive you of having time off.

With that said, nonetheless, you have been part of their family. Even if you weren't a profiler, they welcomed you to one of Rossi's dinner parties just the same.

Emily loved to joke that you were their sweet, softhearted mommy, while Aaron Hotchner was their strict dad. You always laughed at that.

Tuesday, 4:32 PM

Penelope was maniacally tapping on her keys as she searched for information that the group asked her to look for. They flew out this morning, almost teleporting to Los Angeles for a fast-escalating serial killer.

A ringing echoed in her background, waiting for the recipient to pick up the call. The number was yours.

"[You've reached Dr. L/N's line. Please don't leave a message at all. Text me directly instead at 571...]"

She sat up, rolling her chair across her room to reach her telephone, and dropped the call. "No! Y/N! I need you to answer me so you can listen to my dilemma!" Penelope whined and speed-dialed your number once again.

You may be the BAU's psychiatrist for six years, but you have been Penelope's psychiatrist for eight years. You were there when she broke down about the horrors of their recent cases when she got shot and many more events in her life that she couldn't help but rant about to you. You were her friend, and you felt honored to become one.

Wednesday, 10:57 PM

"Something's wrong," Spencer announced, sitting on the swivel chair with his legs crisscrossed.

Hotch immediately lifted his gaze from the file he had in his hands, glancing at Spencer. "What did you find?"

What the Unit Chief didn't know was that his youngest profiler had been staring into space for a good 30 minutes. Spencer fidgeted on the hem of his slacks. "Dr. L/N has never been MIA for more than a day." He replied, unaware of his conversation with his leader.

"Reid. I need your focus on this mission and not Dr. L/N's?" Hotch diverted, bringing his attention back to the file in his hands.

Thursday, 7:00 AM

Spencer's statement didn't leave the back of Hotch's mind, sending you a text as soon as his alarm went off. He couldn't get a blink of sleep.

As much as he tried to think about the case, worry for a compassionate friend began to creep into his veins.

Hey, if you don't mind. Would you happen to have time for me to visit on Saturday afternoon?

He tapped the sides of his phone, staring at the screen. With a small sigh, Hotch exited the bed and got ready for work.

Within the ten minutes he spent showering, Hotch glanced at the screen with furrowed brows in the absence of your reply.

It wasn't like you were obligated to respond to him at that time of the day, but he had known you enough years to know that you were wide awake at the strike of 7 AM.

Hotch remembered clearly how the two of you coincidentally met at the park where he usually goes for a run. He learned then that you never fail to wake up at 5 AM in the morning, emptying your mind to make space for people's troubles that you gladly eased.

He dialed a phone number, "Hello, Garcia?"

Friday, 1:29 PM

The team arrived back to Quantico, wiped out and drained from the case, unenthusiastic about the fact that they had to stay for a few hours and complete some paperwork before they could finally go home.

"Did L/N change her number?" JJ walked in the bullpen, waving her phone to the others. She placed a hand on her hip as she navigated through her phone, preparing to edit your contact information.

Not to create competition, but JJ had it worst in their past case. The anxiety that coursed through her bloodstream needed the comfort of your soft voice. She would discuss it with her husband, Will, but you always understood better. She loved the way you explained her emotions to her, giving her a clearer vision of what she was feeling. It made it easier for her to express her feelings when she came home to Will.

Spencer perked up, "I don't think so. She's very consistent with everything. She would've told us if she changed her number." He sat on his seat with his legs crisscrossed.

Derek didn't waste a minute and dialed your clinic's main landline. They should've been calling there to set an appointment anyway, but they were too attached to you to even bother. In their eyes, you were the whole clinic; no other psychiatrist was available.

"[Hi, you are calling from...]" Multiple sighs of relief escaped from the four of them when they finally got someone to pick up the call. "[This is Alexa. What can I help you with today?]"

"I wanted to set an appointment with Dr. L/N, does she have any open spots for this weekend?" Derek asked, making eye contact with the three agents with him, assuring them that everything was alright.

Until it wasn't.

"[I'm sorry, Sir. Dr. L/N is not available right now, but—]"

"Is she on vacation?" Emily interjected, moving to the edge of her seat.

"[Uh, who am I speaking to?]"

They all exchanged looks. JJ leaned against Derek's desk, clearing her throat. "This is Jennifer Jareau from the FBI. I'm a friend of Dr. Y/N L/N and haven't been able to contact her in a while. I just wanted to ask if, by chance, you have other means of contacting her?"

A long pause. Worry began to creep over their minds. They could hear murmurs and movements, and after three minutes of waiting, someone picked the phone back up.

"[Good afternoon. My name is Dr. Basset, and I'm the head psychiatrist in the clinic. Unfortunately, we haven't heard of Dr. L/N since last Saturday. She hasn't been showing up for her shift either. We were getting worried because she wasn't answering her personal cell and home landline. One of our staff knew where she lived, but her apartment was quiet. They said no one answered the door.]"

Well shit.

That wasn't normal for you to just disappear. You always notified the whole team three months before you would go on vacation or requested leave. So, you being unavailable with your means of communication spiked up their worry through the roof.

They nodded to each other, making a wordless agreement that whatever was happening, it was clear that it was not something they should take lightly.

"Okay, Dr. Basset. Is there a chance you can provide us with any other information about Y/N? Her emergency contact, parents' names, anything would help us." JJ swallowed the lump in her throat. Where could you be?

"[Of course! Let me just go get it.]" Dr. Basset said, shuffling on his end.

Rossi walked out of his room with the intention of filling up his cup with another dose of coffee, but the expressions that the four agents had on their faces didn't pass his peripheral. "What happened? Did you all lose a bet with Garcia?"

Spencer turned his seat, "Dr. L/N is missing." He announced.

"Missing? Did someone report her missing?" Rossi knitted his brows. He wasn't frequent in your office, but he did have a monthly visit.

"She hasn't been to work for a week or answering any of our calls," Emily stated, biting the nail on her thumb.

"Call Hotch," Rossi told Emily, who didn't waste time nodding and went straight to Hotch's office. He looked at the others. "I know everyone is tired from the case, but this one is very important."

Derek stood up, leather jacket wrapping his lean build. "You don't have to tell us twice." He glanced at Spencer, who was already standing, clutching his messenger bag. Then, to JJ, who nodded her chin of approval.

Emily was about to knock on Hotch's door when it swung open, a file in his hand. "We have a case." He announced.

"But-" Emily attempted to intervene, but he continued speaking.

"We need to find our psychiatrist, Dr. Y/N L/N. Penelope's on her way to debrief us. Gather in the conference room in five minutes."

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminalminds #cm #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jenifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #david rossi #ssa jennifer #ssa spencer reid #ssa emily prentiss #ssa aaron hotchner #dr spencer reid #bau team #bau x reader #x reader

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queenshelby · 4 months

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An Illicit Affair

Part 42: Big News

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Life, however, had other plans for you and it was a Monday afternoon, exactly four days before your trip to Los Angeles, that you received some life changing news.

You had just finished yet another treatment session with your therapist who informed you that you were ready to walk unaided again, albeit slowly. No high heels and no strenuous activities for at least another week, but progress, nonetheless.

Exiting the therapy room with a smile on your face, life seemed to be looking up and, without your crutches, you made your way to the day-clinic adjacent to the therapy canter on campus to see your friend Lucy.

You had been catching up with her every week for a coffee, following your sessions, but today, you were actually meeting her for something else. You had a medical appointment with her that day to get back on track with your general health.

Since the accident, you had been neglecting your iron levels for which, until then, you had been taking tablets every day. On top of that, you needed and wanted to get back on to some form of birth control, sensing Cillian's growing frustration of having to pull out whenever you were intimate with one another.

As a medical student yourself, you knew that this wasn't even an appropriate method of preventing pregnancy and whilst Cillian had fantastic self-control, you knew not to push your luck.

Having children was not on your radar right now. Your life was way too complicated to start a family , and there were still so many things you wanted to do and achieve. However, the idea of growing old with Cillian was a comforting thought, and the possibility of having a child together one day was not entirely off the table. One day, in about five years or so, this would be a possibility.

As you walked in the day-clinic, there was a line of people waiting to check-in and the atmosphere buzzed with activity as nurses hurriedly called out names and directed patients to the correct rooms.

Seating arrangements were limited, but there was a spare seat available by the window, not far from Lucy's consultancy room.

Fellow students and nurses you knew quickly came to greet you, some even lingering a moment longer just to ask about your recovery, expressing their concerns and support. You exchanged pleasantries and politely nodded along as they peppered you with questions you had grown accustomed to answering.

Finally, catching sight of your best friend Lucy, you greeted her excitedly and she quickly asked one of the nurses for your file before calling you into her consultancy room.

She gave you a warm hug as always before asking you to follow her.

"How is the treatment going, babe? I can see the crutches are gone!" exclaimed Lucy, a wide smile spreading across her face as she stepped back from the doorway.

"It's going good, and I won't be needing the crutches for the Academy Awards it seems," you told her , returning her smile with a bright one of your own.

"That's fantastic news, Y/N! I'm so fucking proud of you," Lucy said, beaming at you while she opened the medical cabinet and retrieved a few ampules and a syringe.

"And how is Cillian? Is he getting nervous yet?" Lucy asked as you sat next to her on an exam table in her consultation room.

"Oh, he's a mess. But he won't admit it," you replied, chuckling softly. "He's definitely nervous and hopeful," you continued, your tone sincere and genuine. "But I know he is going to win that Oscar. He has to win," you said emphatically, your voice filled with confidence and conviction.

Lucy nodded her head in agreement. "He's a shoo-in for the award this year. It's about damn time!" she exclaimed with a grin, injecting some humor into the situation.

You chuckled, still amazed by how different your life had become in just a few short months. "It still feels surreal to me. Like it hasn't fully sunk in yet," you continued, running your fingers along the barrel of the ampule Lucy had placed next to you before taking a deep breath and rolling up your sleeve. "You know, he asked me to move to the suburbs with him?" you said, smiling slightly as you looked up at Lucy, your eyes sparkling with hope and excitement.

Lucy's face lit up with surprise and excitement. "Oh my god, Y/N, that's amazing news! Are you going to do it?"

You nodded your head, your smile widening. "Yes. I mean, I love him and I think that I want to build a life with him. And I'm excited to see where that takes us," you answered Lucy enthusiastically, feeling your heart race at the thought of building a life with Cillian.

"That's fantastic, Y/N! I'm so happy for you," Lucy beamed, before moving on to discuss your medical issues. You went over your iron levels and Lucy took a few blood tests for you to be sent to the lab.

"We should have them back in a few days but you already know that, don't you?" she chuckled as she labelled the blood vials and placed them in the appropriate container.

"Yeah, I do," you replied, still grinning from ear to ear. "I actually can't wait to come back to work either, which will happen a week or so after we come back from LA," you exclaimed while Lucy examined your files.

"So, birth control was another thing you wanted to get sorted, right?" Lucy then asked with a smile and you nodded.

"Yeah, I was thinking the depo shot," you said, knowing that it was a reliable and convenient method.

"That's a practical choice, but what have you been using until now? There aren't any prescriptions on your file since the accident," Lucy inquired, her brows furrowed in concern as she flipped through your medical file.

You looked away, feeling a little embarrassed at the truth you were about to reveal.

"We have been using anything, just self-control measures really," you stammered out, cheeks heating as you avoided Lucy's gaze.

"Really Y/N?" Lucy laughed out loud. "Because, as a med student yourself, you should know better than that," she chided, but there was a playful tone in her voice.

"I know, I know and that's why I am here," you admitted, blushing at your previous response. "I just... things have been hectic and whilst we didn't have any accidents yet, I don't really want to push my luck," you confessed, feeling a surge of embarrassment at being so open about your sex life with Lucy, but knowing that she was your best friend and would always have your back.

Lucy let out a chuckle, understanding your predicament. "Go and pee in the cup then while I get the depo shot ready," she chuckled, handing you a sample cup and gesturing towards the bathroom.

"Why do you need a urine sample?" you asked , confusion flooding your visage as you walked towards the bathroom door.

"Well, before I give you the shot, I just want to rule out that you are not, -" Lucy began to say but you interrupted her.

"I am not pregnant, Lu!" you interrupted her, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "We have been careful, I promise," you explained, feeling slightly annoyed at the implication that you wouldn't know if you were pregnant or not.

Lucy held her hands up in a defensive gesture. "I know that, Y/N. But this is the protocol now, and it's better to rule out any possibilities," she told you, her voice gentle as she smiled reassuringly.

"Now hurry up and give me the sample," she said, her tone light and playful.

You rolled your eyes again, chuckling to yourself, but you did as she asked and grabbed a clean urine container from the rack.

You knew that she was just doing her job and were aware of some rare cases where women fell pregnant from intercourse even where their partner did not finish inside. It was uncommon, but not impossible.

Upon returning to the examination room and handing the sample to Lucy, she nodded and took the container from you. "Thanks, babe," she said, her voice warm and understanding.

She then put on some gloves and opened the container to check the sample, dipping a dip-stick into it, before turning to you again.

"Now tell me, have you found a house yet?" she asked as she began to prepare the injection.

"We have been looking at a few houses actually, yes," you replied, your voice filled with excitement. "It's a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but also really exciting," you continued, relishing in the thought of starting this new chapter in your life with Cillian.

"I bet it is!" Lucy exclaimed before turning back to the sample while you kept on talking about the house-hunting experience.

"There is one place, though, that I think we both really like, but god I think it is way too expensive," you said with a chuckle while Lucy turned silent and pale.

"Uh-huh," she simply murmured before putting another dip -stick into the sample.

"What, Lu?" you asked, seeing how your friend had become rather quiet and when she did not immediately respond and put yet another stick into your sample, you became concerned.

"Lucy?" you probed further.

"Y/N, I, uhm," she began to say, her voice barely audible as she moved the chair next to the exam bed and sat down. There was a serious expression on her face that unnerved you, and she took a deep breath before speaking again.

"I am so sorry, I don't know how to say this but, babe, you are pregnant," Lucy blurted out, her voice trembling as she revealed the results from your urine sample.

At first, you didn't understand what Lucy had just said and then, almost instinctually, your chin dropped.

"That can't be right, Lu. We had no accidents and the chances of falling pregnant are -," you stammered, unable to finish your sentence, your mind reeling from the news.

Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. "I am sorry, babe, but I just checked three times. You are definitely pregnant," she confirmed, her voice still trembling slightly.

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. The news was too much to process, and you sat there, frozen in shock.

"No, no, no," you muttered, shaking your head as you tried to wrap your mind around the unexpected turn of events.

Lucy reached out and placed a comforting hand on your arm. "I know this isn't what you were expecting, but it's not the end of the world," she reassured you, her voice gentle. "There are options and you know that already," she said, not needing to remind you of your medical studies.

You nodded numbly, still not able to completely process the news. Your mind was racing with thoughts and questions, but none of them felt clear or rational. You simply felt overwhelmed.

"Can you give me a script for mifeprestone?" you asked Lucy, your voice almost robotic as you tried to process the news. Your mind was still reeling, and you found it hard to believe that you were actually pregnant.

Lucy nodded. "Of course, I will write it up for you, but we need to get an ultrasound first before the gynecologist on call will sign off on it," she explained, her voice soft and soothing.

"Can we do it now? I can walk over to the maternity ward," you told Lucy, trying to stay calm as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Sure, I will come with you. I am due for my break anyway," Lucy agreed, her voice still gentle as she stood up and walked over to her computer to write the prescription and necessary referrals.

As you waited for Lucy to print out the script and referrals, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. You were surprised, scared, and a little disappointed, but you also knew that you had options. And you were grateful for that.

After Lucy handed you the script, you both walked over to the maternity ward in silence. It was a short walk, but it felt like an eternity.

You kept up a brisk pace, your hand clenched tight around the prescription slip. Lucy walked alongside you, her arm linked in yours, offering comfort and support.

Inside the maternity ward, you found yourself waiting in a crowded reception area. A nursing assistant called out names, directing patients to the various stations and clinics. You glanced around, your eyes scanning the crowd, feeling both overwhelmed and self-conscious.

Minutes ticked by, and you wondered if they would need to wait much longer before someone could assist you. But then, a woman with a warm smile approached you.

"Y/N, right?" she asked, her voice friendly and welcoming and you nodded, relieved that your turn had finally come.

The nurse led you both to a private consulting room where she quickly scanned your documents and checked your vitals. After a brief discussion about your issue, she nodded sagely, understandably nodding her head at your request.

"Alright Love, jump up on the table for me. I'm just going to take a quick scan, just to confirm the dates and then we can get one of the doctors to sign off on your prescription," the woman said and it took every ounce of energy and self-restraint you could muster not to cry.

You laid down as indicated and lifted up your jumper slightly to reveal your belly as the nurse carefully applied gel to the transducer and began swirling it around, taking measurements of the embryo growing inside you.

The images she projected onto the screen hung above the bed were black and white, but to you, they seemed more vivid and impactful than any colorful picture could ever be. You could clearly see the tiny developing limbs and torso, akin to a tiny alien who had somehow managed to taken root in your womb. The movements were minute and almost imperceptible, the size scarcely larger than you had expected.

"Holy shit," you said almost as at the same time as Lucy as you realized from seeing the pictures along that you were much further along than you had anticipated.

"I am sorry to ask, but when was your last period?" the nurse inquired gently, her voice not judgmental, but full of concern, as she cleaned the transducer.

"About four months ago, before the accident," you admitted, still staring intently at the images on the screen, your mind struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation. "But when I asked the surgeon about it during one of my follow up appointments, he said that not having a period for a while was normal, especially after an accident like mine," you continued, feeling an eerie sense of confusion settle over you.

The nurse nodded understandingly. "It's true that sometimes women experience temporary amenorrhoea after a traumatic incident or surgery, but it's unusual for it to last for this long," she explained gently. "You are about 19 weeks pregnant , honey," the nurse said softly, patting your hand gently.

You felt a sudden wave of emotions overtake you, a mixture of confusion, fear and disbelief. How had this happened? You had always been so careful, taking every precaution to avoid an unplanned pregnancy, especially before the accident. And yet, here you were, sitting on a cold exam table, staring at the ultrasound images of a baby that you had never expected to have.

"Are you sure there are no mistakes?" Lucy asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she squeezed your other hand, trying to offer you comfort. "I mean, she would have been pregnant before the accident, so why wasn't it picked up then?" Lucy asked, her voice a mix of confusion and concern while the nurse called in one of the head gynecologists who, later, explained that you could have fallen pregnant just before the accident, which is why it wasn't picked up in the tests. It was simply too early to tell.

But as the doctor went over the results in detail, explaining the situation to you both, one thing became abundantly clear: there could be no mistaking it. You were definitely pregnant.

The room seemed to spin around you. You couldn't believe it. You hadn't thought it was possible. You blinked hard, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to spill over. " I... I can't have a baby. Not now," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to hold it together. "I don't know if I can do this."

Lucy leaned in closer to you, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "Hey, it's going to be okay," she said soothingly. "And maybe it's a sign, babe. Maybe this was meant to be because, for a fetus to survive what your body went through in those last three or four months, is pretty remarkable," Lucy said, her voice gentle and soothing, her eyes filled with encouragement and hope.

You nodded, understanding where Lucy was coming from. And she was right, it was a miracle that the baby had survived the accident and the subsequent surgeries and treatments. But still, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events.

"With the medication and treatments I had those last few months, what are the chances of damage to the baby?" you asked, your voice now shaking as fear gripped your chest.

"The risk is minimal, with all the medications you have received being either A Class or B Class medicines, and the fetus looks well developed, so I wouldn't worry, but let's have a closer look at the organs for any abnormalities, " the doctor reassured you, smiling warmly before conducting a more detailed ultrasound, carefully examining every organ of the growing fetus.

Minutes passed, and Lucy kept squeezing your hand, maintaining eye contact to reassure you as you watched, in utter amazement and disbelief, as the doctor pointed out the different organs and limbs on the screen.

The little being inside you was kicking and moving, a testimony to its vibrant health and development.

Finally, the doctor nodded and turned off the machine. "All is well in there, and the baby is healthy and growing perfectly," he then finally said, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you, even though you were by no means ready for this.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" you asked almost as if you were in a trance , still not quite able to comprehend the enormity of the news.

The doctor nodded and gestured to the ultrasound screen. "Well, this area here would indicate that your baby is a boy," he said softly, pointing to a slightly wider section in the grainy, black and white picture.

You kept staring at the ultrasound screen, unable to tear your gaze away from the small, wriggling figure. "A boy," you murmured softly, almost to yourself before breaking out in tears.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of fear and uncertainty in that moment.

You had never dreamt of becoming a mother, at least not this soon, not under these circumstances. And although you knew that you could rely on Cillian to support you, you were still hesitant to bring a child into the world so abruptly.

With everything that was going on in your lives, the timing was absolutely terrible and you were unsure whether or not motherhood would break you. You weren't ready for this and not to mention the fact that your relationship was still very new and complicated.

You had no idea how you would explain this to Cillian and the thought of telling him made you sick to your stomach.

NOTE: Yes I know I am predictable. I cannot help myself! I love writing pregnancies into my fics, so no judgment please.

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#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x y/n

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canonicallyobserving911 · 6 months

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The Buckley Siblings & Buckley Parents: Season 7

Maddie's getting married and Buck’s going to be in the wedding but... don't forget Margaret and Phillip will return to L.A. to attend.

Why is this important?

It's important because EVERY TIME the Buckley parents go to L.A., they're only there because Maddie invited them and EVERY TIME things don't go well for Buck.

Before I get started, I need to preface this for all the people who are going to say, "I thought Maddie's and Chimney's wEdDinG was sUpPoSEd to be about them"; it will be but please remember Buck is Maddie's brother and EVERY TIME the Buckley parents were in Los Angeles, Chimney was there with Maddie and Buck and he witnesssed those $hitshows in person. Also, this post is about the Buckley siblings and their parents and how things always unfold when they show up.

Let's stroll down 9-1-1 memory lane for a minute shall we...

Season 4 - they traveled to L.A. because Maddie was pregnant.

In 4x4, Maddie was pregnant with Jee-Yun and after Buck returned from Austin, TX, she told him that she invited their parents because she wanted her daughter to have a normal family with grandparents who would be involved in her life. But Buck told her she should have gotten knocked up by a guy who had one of those. She responded she was willing to try and after some convincing, he agreed to try too.

Here are the Buckley's arriving at Chimney's and Maddie's apartment and please look at Margaret's face. It's evident she didn't want to be there. They had dinner but it was awkward, especially since Maddie told their parents about Buck being in therapy.

Their second dinner turned into a $hitshow of epic proportions after they gave Maddie a baby box but they didn't have one for Buck.

Before I move on, please take a look at how Margaret scowled at Buck. Her face was filled with a look of digust. I wonder why that is🤔?

Their argument ended with Buck begging them to love him anyway.

At the end of 4x4, Maddie finally told Buck about Daniel and their conversation continued into 4x5.

In 4x5, after Maddie revealed the truth about Daniel's Juvenile Leukemia, Buck was devastated and he stopped talking to her.

Also, he told the 118 he was used for his "defective parts".

At the end of the episode, Buck apologized to them for not being able to save his brother but the audience didn't see them ask him to forgive them and IMO, that was on purpose.

When he arrived at Maddie's and Chimney's he looked like he was all alone. But they talked and made up.

Season 6 - they traveled to L.A. to see Maddie's new house.

In 6x10, Maddie told Josh her parents wanted to see their new house even though it wasn't finished being renovated but reminder, Margaret and Phillip loaned them the money for their down payment and that's why they wanted to see it. (Actually, they wanted to see Jee-Yun but they used the house as an excuse.)

Before Buck, Maragret and Phillip arrived, Maddie said to Chimney, "You're right. We have nothing to worry about. It's not like anybody's going to drop any deep dark family secrets this time". 👀

There has to be a secret, otherwise she wouldn't have said that.

After Buck picked them up from the airport, they only talked about the weather and after they arrived, Maddie went to get Jee-Yun and brought her into the living room. In the photo above, Buck's in the background and even though Maddie's in the foreground, she's partially in the dark about whatever secret Margaret and Phillip are keeping from both of them.

When Margaret saw the sonogram on Buck’s phone, the look on her face was one of disbelief NOT SHOCK.

It was almost like they COULDN'T BELIEVE BUCK GOT SOMEONE PREGNANT. 👀

While they were there, Buck got struck by lightning.

And he died for three minutes and seventeen seconds.

Season 7 - They'll be in L.A. for the third time but it still won't be for Buck because they're going to Maddie's wedding.

It's likely they will be at the hospital to visit Chimney but what kind of chaos will ensue this time since EVERY TIME THEY SHOW UP, SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS TO BUCK?

Reminder, they only go to L.A. when it's for Maddie, i.e., her pregnancy, her new house and in season 7 it will be for her wedding. For whatever reason, in 4x4 they only had a baby box for Maddie 👀. And remember before they leave, something bad ALWAYS happens to Buck.

I have an idea of what might happen and why it will. My theory has EVERYTHING TO DO WITH BUCK’S BIRTH AND THE SPERM DONATION HE DID FOR CONNOR AND KAMERON. (But I'm still debating if I will post it. If I do, I'll post it before the season begins.)

#evan buckley #maddie buckley #the buckley siblings #chimney han #margaret buckley #phillip buckley #911 abc #911 on abc #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #911 spoilers #911 speculation #Anti Buckley parents #madney

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oceanpulls · 6 months

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Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross have a plan to soundtrack everything

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross – best friends and Nine Inch Nails bandmates – found unlikely creative fulfilment (and a couple of Oscars) by reassessing what they had to offer as musicians. Now they’re thinking even bigger, and imagining an artistic empire of their own making

By Zach Baron

Photography by Danielle Levitt

Every weekday, Trent Reznor makes his way from his house, a cottagey sprawl behind a white wall in a canyon on Los Angeles’s Westside, to a studio he’s built in his backyard. There he meets his best friend, bandmate, and business partner, Atticus Ross, and they get to work. Reznor and Ross observe the same hours, Monday to Friday, 11am to 7pm. “We show up,” Reznor told me. “We’re not late. We’re not coming in to start to fuck around.” It’s a methodical, orderly existence that Reznor could not have foreseen in the ’90s, when he was fronting Nine Inch Nails and struggling with a drug-and-alcohol problem that was his answer to success. “I would do anything to avoid writing a song,” Reznor said. “I’d rewire the studio 50 times.”

Now Reznor has a wife, Mariqueen Maandig, five children, and multiple jobs. He is sober. Since 2010, when the director David Fincher asked Reznor and Ross to score The Social Network, for which Reznor and Ross won an Oscar, the two men have had steady employment composing for film. This year, Reznor and Ross are also starting a yet-to-be-named company, built around storytelling in multiple disciplines: film production, fashion, a music festival, and a venture with Epic Games.

And then, of course, there is the oldest and perhaps still the most complicated of Reznor’s jobs: being the frontman of Nine Inch Nails. In 1988 Reznor formed what was then a one-man band; the first two full-length records Nine Inch Nails released, Pretty Hate Machine(1989) and The Downward Spiral (1994), have sold more than eight million copies. (Over subsequent years and subsequent albums, the band has since crossed the 20 million mark in sales.) In the ’90s, for a time, Nine Inch Nails were ubiquitous: a phenomenon on the level of Nirvana or Dr Dre. During that decade, the success of the band nearly killed Reznor. “I didn’t feel prepared to process how disorientating that was,” he said. “How much it can distort your personality.”

These days, Nine Inch Nails, which Ross joined as a full-time member in 2016, present a different problem – how do you make something old, something so already well-defined, new again? There are years when Reznor feels like he has the answers and years when he’s less certain. He has put the band on hiatus more than once; after the last Nine Inch Nails tour, in 2022, Reznor deliberately took a break from playing shows as well. “For the first time in a long time I wasn’t sure: what’s the tour going to say?” Reznor told me. “What do I have to say right now? We can still play those songs real good. Maybe we can come up with a new production. But it wasn’t screaming at me: this is what to do right now.”

But he and Ross still come to work, daily, in search of transcendence. “We sit in here every day,” Reznor said. “And a portion of the time organically becomes us just figuring out who we are as people and processing life and a kind of therapy session. And in those endless hours it’s come up: why do we want to do this? And the reason is because we both feel the most in touch with God and fulfilled.”

It is easy to make things when you are a teenager growing up in rural Pennsylvania, near the Ohio border, as Reznor was, and you have nothing to lose and everything to gain; it is considerably harder, once you’ve got older, and found a way to make things that people like, to keep going. It’s an old story: the act of creation can lift you up, but those sharp gifts can also destroy you, and if you make it past that, the sheer blissful regularity of life with money and a family can even you out so thoroughly that there is no friction left to work with. You look inside the cupboard and the cupboard is bare, or it’s a mansion and living inside of it is a person you’re bored of, and so you stop looking. But Reznor and Ross have never stopped looking, and the search for that magical feeling of finding something – that feeling of, in Reznor’s words, “I don’t know where it came from. I don’t know how I just did what I did, but I’ve channelled it into something that worked” – is still the thing that organises their days and their moods.

We were talking in their studio, which was low-lit and cold and full of synthesizers’ blinking lights. Reznor was on a sofa and Ross sat in a chair nearby. The two men first met in the ’90s, when Reznor signed Ross’s band, 12 Rounds, to Reznor’s Nothing Records. Soon after, they became friends, and then musical collaborators. “I was just getting sober,” Reznor said, “and I was in a pretty fragile transitional phase. And I just hit it off with Atticus right off the bat. And part of it was, he was someone who was on much firmer ground, in a mentor-y kind of way, than I was.”

Ross is two years younger than Reznor, but when they met, he’d already been through certain things Reznor was just getting around to. “I got clean when I was very young,” Ross told me. “So I had a bit more experience than him. Put it like this: I knew you could have fun without being high.”

Their friendship has been a constant in both their lives since. “I don’t know if parts of us are broken and we don’t feel good enough,” Reznor said, staring at the ceiling of the studio, “but we know if we work as hard as we can and do the best work we can, it fixes something. At the core of it, that’s what unites us creatively. On top of that, I think his take on the world and role in life helps me understand my place and not feel as detached in some ways.”

Reznor often jokes, or simply explains, that he is a “quart low” on whatever it is that makes people happy. “I think we can both, on our own devices, run below zero as a baseline,” Reznor said. “I don’t mean manic depression, I just mean we don’t take compliments well. It’s like when we won the Oscar, it was the day after: ‘Let’s take today guilt-free, kind of say fuck yeah.’ And tomorrow we’ll have settled back down to a few feet below sea level.”

In their years of collaborating with each other, both men have found some mutual reassurance – a little lift. Reznor gestured at Ross.

“I remember something he said to me – I don’t know if you want me to say this or not – in one of our talks years ago: ‘Here’s what I want today.’”

“I see what’s coming,” Ross said, nervously.

“I just want to feel OK,” Reznor said, quoting his friend. “I want to feel like I’m OK.”

One day this winter, Reznor greeted me at the door of their studio – in the course of reporting this story, I never saw him anywhere else – wearing a black hoodie made by the synthesizer company Moog, black jeans, and black running shoes. At 58, Reznor still retains the angular intensity and jet-black hair of his youth, but time and fatherhood seem to have made him quicker to smile. He looks a little like a college professor now, or an unusually-well-cared-for software engineer. He led me back, past walls of unused gear and several black-clad mannequins, all of which startled me, to their primary workspace, where Ross – a tall west Londoner (he grew up in Ladbroke Grove) with a stern face and a pleasantly reedy voice – sat at a computer, also all in black. (Once, I asked the two men whether their upcoming clothing line would feature any colour. “No,” Reznor said, incredulously. “Of course not.”)

They were on deadline for two films at the moment, including Luca Guadagnino’s forthcoming Queer. “But we’re trying not to work,” Reznor said, drily. Leaned up against one wall was a photo of the two in tuxedos, accepting the Academy Award for best original score for their work on The Social Network. Reznor had contributed to soundtracks before, in the ’90s, but he’d never formally scored a film until The Social Network.

But Reznor and Ross quickly realised that the work, in some ways, wasn’t so different from songwriting. “What do we do when we write a song?” Reznor asked. “We’re trying to emotionally connect with somebody.” Take the Mark Zuckerberg character in The Social Network:“Here’s somebody who thinks this idea is so important that it’s worth kind of fucking your friends over for it. And then realising maybe it wasn’t worth it, or I didn’t realise how I’d feel if I got what I wanted at the price of this. I can relate to that in my own language. Suddenly there’s music.”

“I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor said. “I couldn’t have predicted that I would feel this level of fulfilment.”

And Reznor found that he enjoyed the exercise of solving someone else’s problems instead of his own. “There’s something about not being the boss and working again in service to something that I initially felt guilty for feeling kind of fulfilled by in a weird way.”

Reznor said that on another Fincher film, Mank, the director suggested: “What if it sounded like maybe inspired by Bernard Herrmann and as if it were recorded in 1935 and this film canister sat on the shelf for 60 years?” OK, interesting. (Ross and Reznor were nominated for that one too.)

On the first film the two men scored for Guadagnino, Bones and All, “we got a cut of that that was nearly four hours long with no music and we kind of thought, Oh, fuck,” Reznor said. “Four hours we sat without a pee break, transfixed. It didn’t need music. And when you watch that you approach it differently.” Then Guadagnino brought them Challengers, due for worldwide release in April. Reznor said, “He started us down a path, saying, ‘What if it was very loud techno music through the whole film?’” (This is exactly what it turned out to be.)

“I wish I had his notes,” Ross said of Guadagnino. “His notes were so fucking funny on what each piece was meant to do.”

“Oh, yeah,” Reznor said. “‘Unending homoerotic desire.’ It was all a variation on those three words.”

They liked the challenge of scoring, they found, and that feeling of not being in control. They also liked the way it made them crave being in control again: “It makes you more inspired to work on other stuff when we’re finished,” Reznor said. “Even if it’s just, Thank God it’s done now and we can appreciate the freedom we had before we gave it up.”

These days, Reznor and Ross also like having jobs that let them be at home, around their families. Both men had tumultuous or lonely lives when they were younger; both men have found that fatherhood soothes certain unresolved aspects of their pasts. Ross has three kids, and “probably the greatest reward is how balanced and happy they all are compared to – certainly my growing up was an unusual sort of scenario. It was a fairly chaotic youth.” Ross comes from a notable English family, but his immediate lineage was more unstable. “My dad had a club called Flipper’s Roller Boogie Palace in LA in the ’70s,” Ross told me. “He went bankrupt in England and had a judgment passed against him where he couldn’t talk to a bank manager for 15 years. So he moved here and opened this sort of Studio 54 on roller skates on La Cienega and Santa Monica.” Ross held up a coffee-table book full of photos of the club. “You don’t need to look at it, but it was just a mad life. So I grew up in some madness.”

It is particularly endearing to see Reznor, who at a distance was a fierce and terrifying figure in his 20s and 30s, find domestic bliss. I am old enough that my adolescence coincided neatly with the S&M-flavoured, I wanna fuck you like an animal era of Nine Inch Nails; when I was leaving Reznor’s house one day, I noted with some amusement the cheerful mundanity of a basketball hoop in the backyard. “I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor told me. “I couldn’t have predicted that there was a world where I would have a sizeable family with kids and feel the level of fulfilment and comfort and be able to live in that.”

Was that something you were consciously seeking before you found it?

“I think I had some abandonment issues from my parents splitting up, or feeling I never fit in, and I’d gotten accustomed to being on my own. And largely due to my own, I think, inability to really be intimate with people, or share or be open or know how to be a friend or a partner to somebody… Trying that out and doing it with pure and full immersion has led to an unexpectedly great outcome.”

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The other film project Reznor and Ross were on deadline for was Scott Derrickson’s The Gorge, a science-fiction thriller starring Miles Teller and Anya Taylor-Joy. They were working on a lengthy, music-dependent scene that they’d already mostly scored. But, Ross said, “the director wants it to be a bit more, I can’t think of a better word than just a bit more scary and intense.” They weren’t sure what that directive meant, exactly, but they were content – they were happy – to try to figure it out: to enter the room once again, carrying nothing, and to try to leave it with something that didn’t exist before.

Ross called up the scene on a monitor at the centre of a long mixing board: Teller and Taylor-Joy in an evil-looking spiky forest. Reznor and Ross have somewhat fluid roles in their collaboration, but today the plan was for Reznor to improvise some music while Ross edited and manipulated it in real time. “Atticus’ superpower,” Reznor said, “is that I can come up with a melody and a chord change, and he can make that sit on the scene in a way that is meticulous, and mind-numbingly boring to watch him do.”

A studio assistant, also in all black, presented himself to help Reznor set up a microphone and a cello next to a keyboard that sat underneath another computer monitor. Ross hit play on the footage and what they’d already completed of the score, a kind of haunted, chanting murmur. “It’s basically atmosphere at the moment,” Ross said. Next to him was a synthesizer whose make and model he asked me not to print and which the two men use as a kind of sound ecosystem to feed stuff into.

Reznor began by pushing down on the piano’s keyboard, while with his other hand he manipulated the sound with a flat synthesizer on the desk in front of him. It began as a kind of mellow pan flute thing, and then, with a push of a few buttons, became more of a sad, Social Network-ish plonk. Ross stood up and started tapping the synthesizer to his left, and the sounds Reznor made began to loop and accumulate – little melodic figures that plunged in and out of feedback. Reznor moved from the piano to the microphone, where he sang a few soft passages in a baritone falsetto, more sad than spooky, and then to the cello, which he played slowly and choppily. Ross moved between the computer and the synthesizer, trying to harness it all as it built to a loud, echoing crescendo.

After about 20 minutes, Reznor sat back in his chair, and Ross soon followed suit. Everything got quiet again. “It’s going fishing,” Reznor said to me, shrugging. “Sometimes something happens.”

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Or, sometimes, everything happens. One of the first things you see when you arrive at Reznor’s home studio are two original paintings by the Yorkshire artist Russell Mills – on the left, a razor against a rusty red background; on the right, a decaying yellow-and-black collage – that ultimately became the insert and the cover art for Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral. This is the record with “Hurt” and “Closer” on it. It’s an album Reznor nearly didn’t survive.

Why do I bring this up? Well. If I may, for a moment, sound like the ageing dude in a black T-shirt leaning against the back wall of a bar where you’re just trying to be young and free of recitations of what the year 1994 felt like, there was a different quality to the way things would happen in music. Bands would labour for years, unknown, and then just get struck by lightning, is the best way I can put it: one day, you’re just a guy, and then one radio station plays your song, and then every radio station plays your song, and everyone is listening to those radio stations, because there is nothing else to do, and then MTV loops your video, and everyone watches it because, again, there is nothing else to do, and all of a sudden you are known by millions of bored people in a way that doesn’t quite happen now. This is a gross oversimplification, of course, but here Reznor is, one of the very few people who have experienced the thing I’m describing. I thought: let’s just ask him what that was like.

Reznor said, OK, he could tell me exactly what it felt like. He gave me a single moment: Woodstock ’94, which Nine Inch Nails almost didn’t play – “it seemed like it was going to be gross, to be honest with you” – but ultimately did. “And when we got there, it was terrifying,” Reznor said. “It was way bigger than I pictured in my head and walking on stage. But this is the point of the story: I knew. You could feel like you were in the right place at the right time.”

In retrospect, how did you handle success?

“Had a drink. That’s what sent me down the path. I wasn’t the guy that, you know, at 12 years old cracked a beer. That wasn’t it at all. Just, I feel anxious around people. I’m not sure how to act, especially now that you’re someone that’s supposed to act a certain way. There’s a projection. It feels uncomfortable to walk down the street and people are looking at you because they recognise you. That’s weird. Suddenly everybody wants to be your friend and you’re the coolest. Everyone wants to date you and shit like that.” Reznor said he found it was “easier to have a beer before I go in that room, and then a couple of beers before I go in that room. And pretty soon over a period of time, wait a minute, things start to get out of control. And you know how the story goes.”

Here’s how the story went: Reznor began to wonder if Trent Reznor could ever live up to the Nine Inch Nails guy that people had in their heads. “The reason I was having to drink was to fix that problem, my own insecurity. But the net result is: I’m not really who I am because now I’ve got drugs or alcohol in my system and I’m not thinking as who I really am. And that comes into focus once one gets sober and has time to reflect and kind of think about what got you there and shit you did.”

Eventually, Reznor got sober, and built himself back up. Today he’s happy to talk about all of it, obviously, but he and Ross have done a lot together since – 10 albums’ worth of Nine Inch Nails (Ross was an official member of the band for five of them), among other things – and Reznor is, by nature, not one to dwell too much on the past of a band that he’s still very much trying to figure out. “We’re not fans of resting on our laurels. We’ve been afraid of thinking about nostalgia. That’s a whole other conversation, but the reality is we’re getting older and our fans are getting older and that’s a fact. And I think, say, during the pandemic, not that you asked this question, but as I’m sure everybody was, I was pretty genuinely freaked out and very clearly came into focus: I’ve got to protect my family.”

He was consumed by fear, by terror of what might happen, of what he might do about it. “I can’t even fit all my kids in a car,” Reznor said. “But in the midst of that anxiety, sitting alone in here, I found comfort in nostalgia. I found comfort looking back at things from my youth that I’ve been afraid to even allow myself to glimpse at because it meant artistic death. Because one has to look forward. One can’t be self-referential. I was so afraid growing up in a little shitty town. I could see people that thought the highlight of their life is junior in high school catching the football. You know what I mean? That’s it. That was the peak. I don’t want to fucking be that person. I could see my fate if I stayed in that town.”

In those moments sitting by yourself, what were you getting nostalgic for?

“I miss parts of living in Pennsylvania. I miss a simpler life that I grew up with. I really loved the first INXS album in 1983. I was a senior in high school, and when I listen to it now I could almost start crying because it fucking reminds me of driving in a shitty fucking car in the summer in Pennsylvania. You know what I mean? Man. I allowed myself to kind of immerse myself in who I was at that time, and what it felt like.”

Reznor had been trying to remake himself ever since he left where he grew up, and now here he is in Los Angeles, over 40 years later. “And I kind of went on a deep dive for a while and allowed myself to realise: I am who I am. And the things that made me weren’t the cool things. I’d always been ashamed of: I came from a shitty town; I didn’t have an exotic upbringing; shitty education, you know what I mean? That’s who I am. I’m not sure what the point of all that confession was.”

Well, except: “It plays into where I’m at now.”

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The last time I saw Reznor and Ross, it was once again in their studio. They were sitting very still. Had they been working before I got there?

“We were for a little bit,” Ross said. “And then nervously thinking about you arriving.”

Really? It’s OK if that’s the truth.

“That’s the truth,” Reznor said. They’d just been in this room for the past weeks, months – years, really, he said. Head down. Working. He gestured at me. “It’s a different mindset.”

And “I was thinking about something you said the other day,” Reznor said. That was on a Friday. I’d asked a somewhat rude question about their soundtrack work, which was: why would Reznor or Ross work for anyone else when they didn’t have to?

Now it was Monday. “I thought about that over the weekend,” Reznor said. “It’s like, Why are we doing this? The idea comes from what we think is a good place of ‘Let’s break it up. Let’s get sent down the rabbit hole on certain things and feel like we’ve got tasks being assigned to us rather than us just blindly seeing what happens creatively.’ ”

But, he said, “I think coming out of a stretch of a number of films in a row, I want some time of seeing where the wind blows versus: there’s a looming date on a calendar coming up and we’d better get our shit together. And certainly in the last few weeks I’ve been itching to do what we often do, which is just come in and let’s start something that we’re not even sure what it’s for.”

Some of that energy, he and Ross said, would probably become the next Nine Inch Nails album. Doing soundtrack work, Reznor said, had “managed to make Nine Inch Nails feel way more exciting than it had been in the past few years. I’d kind of let it atrophy a bit in my mind for a variety of reasons.”

But now, “I do feel excited about starting on the next record,” Ross said. “I think we’re in a place now where we kind of have an idea.”

And then there was the company, which Reznor and Ross spent the last two years putting together, piece by piece, with the help of John Crawford, their longtime art director, and the producer Jonathan Pavesi. The idea was, what could they do that they hadn’t already done around storytelling? Some of that might take the form of examining Nine Inch Nails from yet another angle – “we’ve been working on homegrown IP around Nine Inch Nails, stories we could tell, and we’re working on developing those in a way that are not what you think they’d be.” (As in: not a biopic.) They also have a show in development with Christopher Storer, the creator of The Bear, they said, and a film with the veteran horror director Mike Flanagan.

Reznor put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses so that he could examine a piece of paper next to him. “We just wrote some notes because I knew I’d forget what the fuck I’m about to say.” There was a short film coming with the artist Susanne Deeken. There was a clothing venture, a T-shirt line made in collaboration with a notable designer whose name they’d like to keep secret for now, which will arrive this summer. There was a music festival that they were currently planning, “where we’re going to debut as performing as composers along with a roster of other interesting people,” and a record label, both scheduled to launch around the same time.

And for two years they’ve been working with Epic Games on something that is not exactly a video game, in the UEFN ecosystem Epic has built around Fortnite – “It’s what Zuckerberg was trying to bullshit us into calling the metaverse,” Reznor said. “You can’t say that word any more, but in terms of the tool kit, thinking about it through the lens of what could be possible for artists and experiences, we thought that would be an interesting way to tell a story through that.”

They were nervously contemplating the prospect of having day jobs again, of being responsible for more than just themselves. Early on, as they contemplated launching the company, they’d sat down with David Fincher to ask him about movie production: how does it work? “And he’s like, oh, you’re fucked,” Reznor said. “I can distil a two-hour conversation into that. Because, he said, ‘I know you guys, and no one’s going to care more than you do, and you will not be able to let it go.’”

Reznor has actually had this experience before, of being sucked into a project bigger than Nine Inch Nails and having it take over his entire life. Years ago he worked as an executive, first for Beats and then for Apple, building a streaming-music service.

“Trent was very clear when we started,” Ross said. “We cannot let this get into Apple terrain.”

Reznor laughed. “What I mean by that is – I will make this brief; I’m trying to think through what I’m about to talk shit on. Just to self-censor for a second.”

Reznor paused for a moment and then explained. For years, he said, he’d wondered: what would make a good streaming service? This was before the advent of Spotify in the US or Apple Music. Jimmy Iovine, Reznor’s old label boss – later, Iovine would also become Ross’s brother-in-law, after he married Ross’s sister, Liberty, in 2016 – was launching a music service at Beats, which was then acquired by Apple, and Iovine said to Reznor: come try to make this thing a reality. And Reznor surprised himself by saying yes.

“It was a unique opportunity to work at the biggest company in the world at a high level,” Reznor said. “And it was interesting, the scale of the people that you reach through those platforms, just the global amount of influence those platforms can have was exciting. The political situation I was dropped into was not as exciting.”

Reznor enjoyed working with Apple’s design team and its engineering team. “But it made me realise how much I want to be an artist first and foremost.” Reznor also became discouraged with the possibility of fixing the problem that he was trying to solve. “I think the terrible payout of streaming services has mortally wounded a whole tier of artists that make being an artist unsustainable. And it’s great if you’re Drake, and it’s not great if you’re Grizzly Bear. And the reality is: take a look around. We’ve had enough time for the whole ‘All the boats rise’ argument to see they don’t all rise. Those boats rise. These boats don’t. They can’t make money in any means. And I think that’s bad for art. And I thought maybe at Apple there could be influence to pay in a more fair or significant way, because a lot of these services are just a rounding error compared to what comes in elsewhere, unlike Spotify where their whole business is that. But that’s tied to a lot of other political things and label issues, and everyone’s trying to hold onto their little piece of the pie and it is what it is. I also realise, I think that people just want to turn the faucet on and have music come in. They’re not really concerned about all the romantic shit I thought mattered.”

Anyway, Reznor said, turning to Ross, “That was a long-winded way of saying, when we talked about this company, I just said, ‘Be aware of what success might look like because it will turn into something that eats up lots of cycles and time and attention and energy.’ ”

But, Ross said, taking on new responsibilities was, paradoxically, also a way to stay a little younger. “I know we’ve all been talking about being dads and being adults and all that,” Ross said, “and there is a part of me that thinks: it’s important to keep the kid alive.” Meaning the child inside yourself, rather than the one you’re responsible for.

He told a story about him and Reznor visiting the director David Lynch at his house to work with him on the 2017 revival of Twin Peaks. “And I don’t know how old he was at the time,” Ross said, “but he was older. But just walking in there, and he had the room set up and there’s a screen there, there’s some chairs here and there’s some musical instruments there and he’s smoking a cigarette. There’s nothing old about that dude. You know what I mean?”

Lynch showed them some Lynchian footage. It was incredible, even if they didn’t quite know what they were looking at. Lynch was probably 70 or 71 at the time. “But it’s that thing of it doesn’t matter how old he is,” Ross said. “He is alive. It’s that bit of it all that one doesn’t want to lose with age.”

The point was, Reznor said: “Let’s try some stuff. We’re bored. We are. You know what I mean? We’re grateful. We enjoy doing films. We can write a better Nine Inch Nails record, I think. We can put on a cooler tour. We are aimed to do that. But man, what if we try to do that?” Meaning, the company. “What if we could take what we’re good at, like we did with film? We identified something I think we’re good at and we figured out how to apply it to something else. What if we take that theory and try it on some other things? And that’s led us into: we’re not beaten down completely yet. And it feels exciting. That’s what matters to us right now.”

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Styled by Mobolaji Dawodu Grooming by Johnny Stuntz using Dior Capture Totale Hyalushot SFX Makeup by Malina Stearns Grills by Alligator Jesus Tailoring by Yelena Travkina Set design by Lizzie Lang at 11th House Agency Produced by Emily O’Meara at JN Production

#my ninposting #my transcription #trent reznor #atticus ross #nin #nine inch nails #trent #reznor #gq

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pastafossa · 5 months

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Idk if it’s cause his face claim is Oscar Isaac but Ciro is taking up way more of my brain space than I think you intended. do u have any of his lore in your back pocket? a tragic backstory? who he had his kid with? were they in love?? IS HE HAPPY? anyways. i appreciate you and i hope you’re doing well!! sending love

Thank you so, so much! I'm starting to feel a bit more up finally, and my moods are leveling out I think!

And ABSOLUTELY! TEN PIECES OF CIRO LORE:

Ciro and his wife Elisa (Sophia's mom), were a Mobster Power Couple, and madly in love. She worked alongside him and ran various aspects of the business. She was cunning yet cheerful, loved classical literature like he did, and they had plans for a large family. They both figured if one of them died, it would be due to 'business'. Sadly she passed away incredibly suddenly from an aneurysm a few years after Sophia was born, leaving him a widower and a single father. His daughter for a time was the only thing keeping him going.

He's made a good recovery since then with some therapy and has found he loves being a dad and is quite happy running his businesses, criminal and not, though he spends a substantial amount of time worrying about Jane, and would be even happier if she were safe. But he definitely feels like he's doing what he was meant to do, and feels like God approves in his own way.

Romantically (something rarely touched on in TRT), he's had some flings and short-term relationships with various people after his wife passed, mostly women and a few men, but he hasn't had anything serious so far, in part because he's been so focused on Running The Empire and raising his daughter(s) (and other adopted stray feral murder children like Eli). Though if he finds his second special person, he'd be willing to consider something more serious.

At the time of TRT, he has five cats, all former strays because this man can never resist picking up the lost, human and animal, and there are a variety of cat rescues around Los Angeles that find themselves mysteriously funded by an anonymous donor.

He's decent at guitar and piano!

In TRT the incident where his childhood dog was killed by a boar is mentioned. In his attempts to rescue his dog, he got thrown aside into a tree - that injury caught up with him later, which is why Matt notices arthritis in his knee and an altered stance when scanning him over!

Ciro and Natasha Romanoff know each other through (sketchy) business and are on friendly terms.

He's the eldest of his siblings (1 brother and 2 sisters).

He didn't always plan on being a crime lord but after running face-first into some governmental/legal corruption as a teenager, his thought process was roughly along the lines of, 'I could do better than them.' He likes to think he's kept his promise - there are a surprising number of people in his city, especially in certain neighborhoods, who tend to look to the Ferryman's justice and authority first over the police or legal system. His punishments are often cruel, hard, and unforgiving, but if you follow his laws and keep your mouth shut, you generally don't have much to worry about, and because he minimizes collateral damage and invests in the neighborhoods (to encourage loyalty if nothing else), most are happy to look the other way.

He 'introduced' himself to SHIELD by mailing a few specific agents the tongues of HYDRA operatives, complete with coins, after those operatives attempted to Fuck Around in Los Angeles and quickly Found Out. One of those SHIELD agents happened to be Phil Coulson. The two have a bi-yearly, location-randomized coffee meetup, which is how Ciro wound up with Agent Thompson's card after Coulson vouched for her record!

#ciro leone #i love ciro and i have a mountain of backstory on him and basically no place in the story so it just sits here #in my head #i fully plan if i turn TRT into an AU book series one day #tehre will be a book or two JUST for Ciro because he deserves one #the red thread

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dalekofchaos · 11 months

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Life Is Strange. Where are they now scenarios

It's officially been 10 years since the events of LIS1. So this is my scenarios for what could happen in both of the endings for each of the characters.

Save Chloe ending

Max and Chloe are wanderers. Until they decide to settle down in New York. Or in Seattle. I'd like it to be Seattle since Max's parents are there and Victoria too. But regardless of where they choose, Max settle down. Max gets a job as a photojournalist and Chloe becomes a mechanic/tattoo artist and opens up a garage that offers both of her expertise. At some point Max meets a man named Brody. Brody tells the story of two boys he met and asks Max to help prove their innocence. Max eventually does. She goes back in time to witness the Seattle Incident. Max witnessed everything and uses her eyewitness testimony plus photographic evidence to help prove Sean and Daniel's innocence. Eventually Max and Chloe are haunted by the storm. The memories of what they lost and decide that the only way to deal with these emotions and thoughts is to go to the Arcadia Bay Memorial. When they get there. Max passes out and is brought to a nightmare. She's brought back to the week, she has to go through it several times and notices several variables she missed(Nathan knowing about the storm, Sean Prescott as the mastermind, saving Nathan and ending in the hospital) but it keeps going until Rachel appears. For a more in depth look, see this post. But bottom line is Max eventually saves Rachel and by saving Rachel she saves Arcadia Bay AND Chloe. As Max, Chloe and Rachel prepare to leave Arcadia Bay, everyone is there to see them off. Joyce hugs them, Chloe and David shake hands, Warren and Kate hug Max goodbye and it closes on Max, Chloe and Rachel driving off into the rainbow and heading towards Los Angeles.

Victoria sees a therapist and leads her family's gallery until she overcomes her trauma and does not let what Jeffershit does harms her love of photography. Max and Victoria occasionally get together and share their work since Arcadia Bay.

Kate survives in the hospital since Michel confirmed she survived on threads. She writes a book for children and does podcasts about surviving Arcadia Bay and about surviving a serial killer and bullying. This is how Max, Chloe and Victoria find her. At some point Kate and Victoria go through a slow burn of dealing with their trauma in therapy, going through the bullying and learning to forgive each other. It begins as friendship and blossoms into a relationship and what started as a victim and a bully ends as girlfriends.

Steph is with Alex. Steph and Alex start off as a traveling band and even Izzy joins them. Eventually they visit Haven and catch up with RYan, but Ryan asks to join them as he can't stay knowing what his father did and losing Gabe and his mother, there's nothing for him there. So Ryan leaves with Alex and Steph and joins the band. At some point Steph and Alex meets up with Max and Chloe. Steph and Chloe reconnect and Max befriends Alex. They bond over their powers and what they've been through. However Alex notices Max's guilt after hearing Steph's story about surviving Arcadia Bay. Alex convinces Max to tell Steph the truth. Max eventually tells Steph about how saving Chloe caused the storm that wiped the town. Steph is mad for a while, but eventually forgives Max and Chloe. Every year or so Alex, Steph, Mikey, Max and Chloe get together to play D&D. Alex and Steph eventually settles down in Salem.

David would remain in Away. He would be visited by Max and Chloe, Sean and Daniel and to his shock and relief, Kate. While David mourns for Joyce, he found peace in Away and has a better relationship with his step-daughter and made peace with someone he really hurt, even if he doesn't deserve it.

Save Arcadia Bay

Max grieves for a long time until she decides to live her life. She realizes that Chloe would want her to live. She has the memories of Chloe and holds her in her heart. She has Warren, Kate and all her friends in Arcadia Bay. She graduates with Warren by her side. Max goes on to be a successful photojournalist. At some point Max meets a man named Brody. Brody tells the story of two boys he met and asks Max to help prove their innocence. Max eventually does. She goes back in time to witness the Seattle Incident. Max witnessed everything and uses her eyewitness testimony plus photographic evidence to help prove Sean and Daniel's innocence.

Warren would be a positive presence for Max, always there for her and a good influence during her grieving period. They’d watch movies together in their dorm rooms and just hangout. In a sense, Warren becomes what Rachel was for Chloe, her angel. Warren’s presence soothes Max’s broken heart and this is why Max slowly falls in love with him. They graduate together, go to college, Warren becomes a chemistry professor in the UO while Max becomes a photojournalist. When they are older, they get married and have children. Warren becomes the Maes Hughes of his university showing off Max and their kids lol

Like in the Save Chloe ending, Kate goes on to become a author for children's book and goes on to talk about her experiences with Jefferson and bullying in the hopes it could help so many people struggling with bullying. While maintaining a close friendship with Max.

Victoria would be horrified of what Nathan and Jefferson did. Max and Victoria would make peace and Victoria would help her through her grief, which would result in Max and Victoria finally becoming friends. Victoria, Taylor and Courtney would take Max out for shopping, dress Max up and Victoria would help reignite Max’s love for photography and would not let Jefferson ruin her passion. Max and Victoria together would take some killer shots. Victoria would tell Max “when you are a famous photographer, you can put your pictures in my gallery” and it was a deal, Max would focus on becoming a photographer and Victoria would become heir to the Chase Space. Max and Victoria embrace in a hug.

Joyce and David would divorce. Joyce just had enough and realizes she held responsibility for failing Chloe and for allowing David to be a toxic and abusive influence in her life, but she just didn't want to see it. In a way she still loves him, but she can't have him in her life anymore, while David knows he failed Joyce and Chloe and leaves to atone.

Nathan does time in a prison for a brief period before he goes to a mental institution. He gets visits from Victoria and his sister Kristen. Max would confront Nathan in a mental institution. Upon being visited by Max, Nathan would break down in tears and tell her he did not mean to kill Chloe, hurt Kate or hurt Rachel. He didn’t want to hurt anyone and profusely apologize, but he knows he has to live with what he’s done and Max takes it upon herself to forgive Nathan. This results in a monthly visit where Max and Victoria would visit Nathan, think of this like the fanfic The Sense Of Me for Max and Nathan’s friendship.

#Life Is Strange #Pricefield #Grahamfield #Chasemarsh #Chenrich #Max Caulfield #Chloe Price #Warren Graham #Kate Marsh #Victoria Chase #Nathan Prescott #Joyce Price #David Madsen #Alex Chen #Steph Gingrich #Sean Diaz #Daniel Diaz

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cbtherapyla · 1 year

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CBTtherapyLA is a counseling center located in Los Angeles that provides evidence-based therapy services for individuals, couples, and families. Their team of licensed therapists specializes in cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), an approach that has been proven effective for a wide range of mental health concerns. They offer online and in-person sessions and prioritize creating a safe and supportive environment for their clients.

https://www.cbtherapyla.com/

#DBT therapy Los Angeles #family therapy Los Angeles #child psychologist Los Angeles #child therapist Los Angeles #marriage therapist Los Angeles

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ebandassociates · 2 years

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#counseling and mental health services #telehealth services in california #best telehealth providers #mental heath support #brainspotting therapy for anxiety #family therapy los angeles #therapy for anxiety disorders

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buddierecs · 3 months

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amnesia buddie fics

this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

i'll feel you forget me like i used to feel you breathe by: turningthepages "just another hollywood amnesia story the fandom probably didn't need but lived in my head rent free for too long." word count: 128k rating: mature important tags: married!buddie, car accidents, hurt/comfort, family feels, insecure!evan buckley, future fic buy back the secrets by: allyasavedtheday "after getting hurt on a call, buck wakes up thinking it's 2018. aka buck can't remember who eddie is but he's pretty sure everyone's lying when they say they're "just friends." word count: 18k rating: teen and up important tags: hurt/comfort, oblivious!eddie diaz, friends to lovers, love confessions you've got the antidote by: hattalove "in which buck is a little high, and shirts are difficult." word count: 4.2k rating: teen and up important tags: anaesthesia, pining, fluff, getting together i think i belong to you (hope you feel the same) by: ran "the one where eddie wakes up from the shooting only to think he was hurt in a certain 7.1 earthquake years prior and learns to appreciate the life he's created for himself since then." word count: 41k rating: teen and up important tags: ptsd, therapy, falling in love, hurt/comfort, angst, love confessions, post-shooting (s4e14) house of forgotten memories by: not1_2write "eddie decides to take a risk. he's a grown man. he can ask Buck out on a date. what could possibly go wrong? three weeks later, clutching a comatose buck's hand and waiting for him to wake up from a traumatic brain injury, eddie gets his answer." word count: 35k rating: teen and up important tags: coma, hurt/comfort, angst, hurt!evan buckley, team as family, getting together, family feels, whump, mutual pining forget-me-nots by: withmeornotatall "eddie wakes up from the ambush, not in the deserts of afghanistan, but the deserts of los angeles and finds out he's missing eight years of his life. somehow, that's worse than falling from the sky and three gunshot wounds." word count: 13k rating: general audience important tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, internalised homophobia, fluff, angst, team as family what do i say (to make me exist?) by: cuddlyobrien "buck gets hurt at chim & maddie’s wedding, earning some temporary amnesia and thinks he was marrying eddie. the doctor advises they let him believe it. eddie is stressed from day one" word count: 27k rating: explicit important tags: fake dating, mutual pining, post season 6, anal sex, blow jobs, riding come back to me by: jayjay__884 "an accident at the job lands buck in hospital after falling through a 4-story building. his loved ones are by his bedside when buck is placed in an induced coma to help his recovery in hopes he will eventually wake up." word count: 191k rating: explicit important tags: married!buddie, soft!buddie, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, coma, falling in love, parenthood something that i missed by: foxwatson "the one where buck and eddie get together the night before a shift - and the next day, an accident erases eddie's memory of the last 24 hours." word count: 8.5k rating: teen and up important tags: idiots to lovers, angst, getting together, first kiss your memories feels like home to me by: goforeddie "in which eddie loses about eight year of his life and things are… heavily different than he last remember." word count: 29k rating: mature important tags: married!buddie, angst, girl dads!buddie, fluff, eventual smut remember to remember me by: daffi_990_ao3 "buck and eddie finally get together only for lightning to strike a few days later, leaving buck with no memories of them ever becoming a couple." word count: 31k rating: explicit important tags: getting together, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, boys in love, anal sex, blow jobs, riding, dirty talk

#buck x eddie #buck x eddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #911 abc #911 show #911 fandom #buddie fics #buddie fic rec #911 fic rec #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie fanfics #buck x eddie smut #buddie recommendations #buddie smut #buddie recs

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dreamwatch · 2 months

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The Last Song

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Eddie’s not sure what wakes him. He turns awkwardly onto his side, head on his arm, watching the tops of the trees rustle, light twinkling through the branches. It’s warm, like it is all year round in Los Angeles, hard to tell one season from the next.

The bedroom door clicks open, the sound of bare feet on bare floors as Steve approaches the bed. He sits on the edge, his hand already reaching out for Eddie.

“You look tired. You want me to call them? Tell ‘em you’re not coming?”

He is tired. Not the kind that feels earned, from hard work or hard play, the kind that seeps into your bones and sets up home there, the kind sleep doesn’t cure. The warmth of the sun and the comforter, of Steve’s hand on his skin, will pull him back to sleep if he stays.

“No, I promised them, I should go today.”

“They won’t mind if you don’t.”

“I’ll mind.”

So he showers carefully, dresses slowly, and allows Steve to drive him to the studio.

The boys are at the mixing desk playing back some of their tracks that have already been recorded. It’s been a struggle, this album, over a year with a record label breathing down their necks, turning the screw, piling on the pressure as the time in the studio drags on.

And that’s on him.

The thing about fucking up when you’re in the public eye is they never let you forget. It’s like a bad report card (and fuck knows he had plenty of those in his time), it hangs there over everything no matter what you achieve. One trip to rehab and they never let you forget it.

He hasn’t had a drink in three years. He deals with it, has good support, puts in the work. But there are other things in play, things from his childhood, things from Hawkins, Upside Down things, and they’re fucking insidious. There’s no twelve step programme for that. He tried therapy years ago; he said probably ten words about his mom, five about his dad, and fuck all about things that go bump in the night. It was pointless.

His mind and his body and his soul are being held together with bandaids. The band have been beyond supportive; they’ve had their hard times over the years but they never leave anyone untethered, it’s just not how they roll, you know? They’ve given him time, kept the heat from him as much as they can. And he loves them for it.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Gareth says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Poison’s fourth best album,” he replies, laughing at their looks of disgust.

“Fuck, dude, no.” Matty scowls like he’s been physically wounded. “We’re not bringing that neon juju shit into this sacred studio of metal.” He stands and takes Eddie in a hug. “Fucking good to see you man,” he says lowering his voice, and Eddie squeezes him back tightly.

The thing about them is they don’t have to hide; there’s no shame in struggling, they’re long past all that shit. So it’s comforting to be back here, the studio feels like home.

“So what are we doing?”

Jeff spins on his chair. “Last track of the album. Drums and bass are locked in so those lazy fuckers are done.” Matt and Gareth protest but Jeff ignores them. “Just you and me now, man.”

Something hits him, something about the wording of that. Just you and me now. It’s always Matt and Jeff or Eddie and Gareth, but it’s the two of them out front every night. Jeff who all but told him to fuck off when he auditioned with Wayne’s shitty acoustic. Jeff who gave them their name. Jeff who held him over hotel toilet bowls while he emptied his stomach, telling him he was okay.

It’s funny how they’re all pieces of a puzzle but the parts fit together whichever way you place them.

Eddie settles on the stool, grabbing his guitar. “Okay, so Defeat the Darkness, right?”

Jeff taps the edge of his guitar. “Actually, we’ve changed it up. I’ll play you what we have, and…” Jeff shoots a look to the control room, Matt and Gareth watching them keenly, “we’ll go from there.”

“Sure.” It’s not what he prepared for. And okay, he hasn’t been around but changing the track list without telling him? That’s not cool. But he’s a pro, and he doesn’t want to fight, so he gives a thumbs up.

The track comes through, and he doesn’t recognise it. They had a couple of maybes they cut, but this isn’t one of them. It’s fast and messy, the floor toms heavy in the mix, Matt’s bass reverberates in his ears. It’s almost punk. The guide vocal and guitar part come in and—

Oh.

Jeff cocks his head. “You recognise this?” he asks, clearly amused.

He hears those words, those stupid fucking words they wrote in Gareth’s garage, Jeff and Eddie on their own because Gareth and Matt were watching the Dukes of Hazzard and even back then Eddie wasn’t giving one flying fuck about Daisy Duke. So they wrote a song. And they laughed until they cried, because it was awful, and stupid, and hilarious.

Eddies doesn’t really know why he’s crying, maybe because it’s just been an awful fucking year and he’s raw with pain. But it’s not sadness, or not entirely. It was so fucking innocent then, so simple. This singular point in time where life was, well not perfect, he’d lost his mom, he was poor, but everything else was so rich. And sometimes he yearns for those days, without contracts and lawyers and commitments.

“It’s been good, right?” Jeff says smiling, like he knows exactly what Eddie’s thinking. Maybe he does.

All these years, four stupid kids who wanted to be rich and famous. Still friends, still killing it.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles. “It’s been really good.”

Okay so the song they wrote was called Fuck Hawkins, and I wrote lyrics but ran out of words. I’ll save it for another time!

I can’t believe it’s over, it’s been a blast! ❤️🤘🏻

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #corroded coffin fic #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #gareth stranger things #matt (unnamed freak stranger things)#steve harrington #steddie #cw alcoholism #cw mental illness

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enrosadiraanisaaa · 1 year

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Within Session .Part Three.

Hey there cuties, do not think I forgot about y'all! This fanfic consist of Yandere!Leon Kennedy. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:

~Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…

Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝

This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!

I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂

This chapter does not contain any 🔞 material. This story will contain +18 content (NSFW) in the near future 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit. This story will eventually hit that point so don’t set yourself up.

Summary

As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?

A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. This chapter was oddly hard to write, especially writing out a session on a serious topic. Once I was writing, I kept writing so you might find this chapter to be long! Expect the next chapter to be out in two weeks!

Hope y'all enjoy the third part! More to come 💝~ Anisssa أنيسة

Here is Part One and Part Two of Within Session

Cleared Mirror

When Leon finally mentioned to Hunnigan his need for help, he did not expect immediate validation to improve his mental health. After the Raccoon City incident in 1998, the horrifying experiences that had cost him a normal life had embedded as an inevitable trauma. The grueling military training that followed after he was captured by the US government and forced to become a government agent to protect Sherry. The underlying hazing that he endured in boot camp tested his abilities and mental state beyond his capabilities, yet it was a period of time that distracted him. Then the recent mission to Spain to save the president’s daughter and his fight against Las Plagas of Los Illuminados seemed to weigh in after losing Luis and confronting Ada Wong after a number of years. His guilt was engulfing him at this point, so he looked forward to his first session with the referred therapist by Hunnigan.

However, when he did arrive at the office for the scheduled session at 5PM, he did not expect a young woman to be assigned his therapist. He noticed she was preoccupied with paperwork on her desk before he knocked on the doorway door to notify her that he had arrived. Once her awareness of him occurred, she stood up from her chair to greet him. Leon instantly notices her red attire with black heels, reminding him of a certain woman.

Without realizing it, Leon accidentally scrunches his face from the reminder. Even when you offer a seat on one of the chairs in front of your desk, a glare on his face remains for a moment. However, when Leon takes another glance at your face, he eases the features of his face, nearly dazed at the sight of your eyes and lips as you both sit across each other. For a moment he studies your facial features while you speak until a question from you returns him to reality. Leon blinks his eyes in realization and nods to the question, simply muttering,”Yes.”

His heart nearly flutters when you provide a reassuring smile while nodding your head,”That’s okay, let’s get started, Leon,” He hears you tell him.

By leaning over the chair, you reach over with one hand to retrieve paperwork clipped to a clipboard from the top of your desk. Leon patiently sits in silence across from you, curious of the next course of actions. With a swift flip of the papers attached to the clipboard, you reaffirm all the necessary documents before leaning over in the chair to hand the clipboard to Leon. Once Leon had the clipboard in his possession, he curiously skimmed through the pages while you spoke,” Alright Leon, we’re going to take the first 15 minutes to get through all this annoying intake paperwork. Essentially review HIPAA concerns, consent forms, and ethical guidelines. Afterwards, I will ask more questions regarding your background, then begin discussing your reasons for therapy and goals so we can formulate a treatment plan along our sessions. How does that sound?” You question him, provided with a gentle smile.

Leon follows with a head nod, content with the flow of the session.”Sounds good,” he immediately responds, eager to hear your voice more. Despite Leon never receiving treatment before, he was honestly impressed with your diligence.

With the reassurance from Leon, you proceed on explaining the following paperwork.”Also, please feel welcomed to ask me any questions, I want to ensure you’re not leaving here confused and that my skills are what you’re looking for in a therapist,” You sincerely express, shifting in the chair to cross your legs.

There were several questions that instantly came to Leon’s thoughts: ‘How old are you?’ and ‘Are you single?’

“The first page contains a HIPAA authorization form, basically entailing how your medical information is disclosed and your rights regarding your medical information…''You explain, leaning over the side of the chair again to snatch a pen from your desk. With the pen in hand, you lean over the chair to hand it to Leon,”So just write today’s date, your full name, date of birth, social security, check the boxes, and provide your signature. Please let me know if you have questions,” You breathe out, observing him as Leon fills out the worksheet in silence, hearing the scribbling of the pen on paper.

After a moment, Leon glances back up to you, signaling he was finished with signing this section of paperwork. In this moment, you provide a smile in reassurance,”Sweet, now we can continue to the next section, which is simply covering ethical guidelines between therapist and client. If you flip over to the next page, it will clarify all the different points. When you’re done reading, just sign at the bottom,” You advise him, sinking back into the chair as Leon flips and reviews the next page of ethical guidelines.

At this moment, several points mentioning friendship and gift exchange between client and therapist caught Leon’s attention. Therapists are legally required to maintain a professional relationship with their clients, thus can not accept gifts over a certain amount. Leon briefly glances at you, then instantly returns his sight to the paperwork on his lap. He would have to abide by these guidelines to receive treatment. With the pen in his hand, Leon inscribes his signature on the line at the bottom of the page along with writing the current date.

With all the paperwork finally reviewed and signed, this prompted you to clasp your hands together, instantly capturing Leon’s concentration from the paperwork on his lap up to you at the sudden noise,”Okay, we’re done with paperwork! You can set that on my desk, now we can finally get into why you’re here. I will ask a couple of questions, then you can tell me more about yourself, Leon,” You explain, your voice full of enthusiasm as you directly observe his blue orbs across the room. In response to your declaration, Leon nods his head.

By adjusting your throat, you then exhale before asking the first question: “Has your family or you have any history of substance abuse that is not limited to alcohol, illegal drugs, and abuse of medication?”

From across the room, you notice Leon shakes his head,”I am not sure about my family, but not me…”

To acknowledge him, you provide a subtle head nod to his response,”That’s okay if you don’t know. Another question: During your childhood, did you live any significant period of time with anyone other than your natural parents?” You question him, intently observing his expressions. Despite his file entailing he was an orphan, you needed more context.

There was a momentary pause from Leon at this question, his gaze elsewhere but you as he ponders this question. He then returns his gaze to you, nodding,” Yes. I was in the foster care system until I became 18 years of age. There was an incident in my family that I don’t have much recollection on…” He tries to clarify.

‘There was an incident?’ This thought comes to you, debating if this subject should be pressed on and explored. You veer your head to the clock on the wall, it was already 5:32PM. Session will be ending soon at 5:50PM and there is at least one important question left for Leon.

With another head nod, your lips form a smile to Leon,”We can explore that at another time if you like… My last question is: What has brought you to therapy and what goals do you want to accomplish?” To some, this inquiry might seem ridiculous, but this direct question was for clients to explore their reasoning to receive therapy.

An exasperated sigh escapes his mouth, tilting his head to the sides as it seemed he did not want to confess his sentiment. “Uh… I feel alone” He finally admits, his face expressionless.

“At what point in your life do you feel alone?” You inquired, keeping your tone serious to Leon’s response.

Over the span of his life, there were an absurd number of instances when he was abandoned by people. The initial example was during his childhood, when his family was massacred for unexplained reasons. He spent a considerate amount of years in the foster care system, unloved by blood. The girlfriend who broke off their relationship the night before he experienced the incident in Raccoon City. Hell, even when Claire Redfield deserted Sherry and him to search for her older brother after they barely survived that harrowing night together. Leon had to fend for Sherry when Claire had left them to the mercy of the US government. Then the infamous Ada Wong, who used him twice before vanishing without a trace. People were brief in his life, either from death or they left him.

Despite these prominent circumstances, how would he express some of these details without explaining an incident that was covered up and immensely classified. His hands and tongue were tied, he would have to brush over this portion of his life.

With several blink of his eyes, Leon considers other reasons for his lonesomeness. There was an uneasy feeling that swept over him due to the unsettling silence in the room. You were attentive for his answer.

“The nature of my job… I am too busy to involve myself in meaningful relationships,” Leon conjures, returning his gaze to those eyes that seemed too distant from him.

As Leon provides a response to your final question, you notice hesitation in his demeanor as if he is recollecting something traumatic. However, as a professional you can not dismiss his answer, but simply acknowledge him.

Since Leon was an agent of STRATCOM, no doubt that life threatening missions contributed to this sentiment. Similar among other agents and military personnel, coping with isolation and loneliness was common.

“Are there any particular aspects of your job that contribute to your feeling of loneliness?” You ask him in a sincere tone. With a quick glance at the clock on the wall, there were only a few minutes of session. Damm…

Leon noticed your glance to the clock on the wall, yet continued to speak,” People are temporary in my line of work…” He admits, noticing the hands of the clock were at 5:46pm.”Session is done already, huh?” Leon comments, returning his attention to you for confirmation.

A faint smile forms on your lips, nod slightly.”Unfortunately…but we can continue this subject next session..” You respond, standing from the chair to retrieve another clipboard from your desk, consisting of another signature page. “Before you leave, if I could get your signature. I did check your health insurance and it’s all good to go. They require a client signature to authorize that you received treatment today,” You inform him, offering the clipboard to him with both hands.

Leon stands from his seat, taking the clipboard with one hand while his other hand grasps the pen attached to the clipboard. After signing his signature at the bottom of the sheet, he returns the clipboard back into your possession with a faint smile on his lips.

You reciprocate the same faint smile on your face,”Alright Leon, it was a pleasure to meet you today. I really recommend writing any thoughts or topics you want to speak about in a small notebook for our sessions, that way you don’t forget… but other than that. You are free to go. I look forward to seeing you on Friday at 5PM. If you need to reach me for any reason, definitely reach me by email or my work number.” You mention, leaning on your desk.

With a nod from Leon, offering a cheeky grin,”Yes ma'am. I will see you on Friday then, stay warm...” He comments, noticeably glancing at your body up and down, implying your poor choice in your red attire. At those words, Leon turns around to exit your office, leaving you alone in silence.

This was definitely an interesting client, there was no doubt in Leon’s charisma and intellect.

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