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#and umm i don’t know what to say about your life trauma…
ikkan · 1 year
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boomers in public places when they start to approach me while i’m shopping
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lowkeychenle · 6 months
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And Then It Was [ZCL] (M) fic teaser
Description: After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices.
Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (arranged marriage!au, rich families using their children as business mergers yk) (no actual smut in the teaser but the tension kinda wild lol)
Content Warnings: Not sure of any in the teaser, but in general content warnings will be rich, generational family trauma, mentions of pregnancy and heirs (no actual pregnancy in the fic), reader feels obligated to do literally everything and Chenle's like yeah that's not really cool, umm if I think of more I'll let y'all know
Expected Word Count: 20-30k
Teaser Word Count: 789
Release Date: 8pm EST 2023.3.22
READ HERE :)
Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you want to be tagged when this comes out <3
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (features the rest of dream!)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
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“Chenle?” you call out.
When he appears in the doorway, his shirt is absent, and you were pretty sure he’d been wearing a belt before. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame, awaiting you to tell him what you need.
You don’t have to actually speak. Instead, you turn your back to him and pull your hair over your shoulder. He hums behind you, keeping a respectable amount of distance before he grips the zipper.
“What did you do before me?” he asks, hesitant to pull it down.
“Staff.” You shrug. “But I mostly wore things I knew I’d be able to—”
The familiar sound and the rush of cool air against your practically boiling skin as he reveals more of your skin has your breath catching in your throat. You cut yourself off, immediately reaching up to hold the dress to your chest.
“I’m a very accommodating man, (Y/N).” His voice sinks into every inch of your skin. “If you need something, tell me. I’m your husband. It’s quite literally my job to ensure you’re happy, darling.”
The warmth radiating from his bare skin so close to yours has every thought in your brain flying away. Logically, there’d be nothing wrong with giving in to your temptation. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched you, and the man behind you is your husband. Physical attraction had nothing to do with emotions or feelings, so it was okay. One thing you’d never be able to deny is how he’s one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. Your parents could’ve chosen much, much worse for you.
His voice centimeters from your ear startles you out of your trance. He says, “I wonder what you’re thinking about. You seem a bit distracted.”
“Wouldn’t you love to know.”
“Truly.”
“I need to change.”
“Do you?” He trails a finger up your spine. “You’re so soft. What an odd comparison to that steel wall you’re forcing yourself to keep up.”
“I think you’re forgetting your own boundaries.” You clench your fist into the fabric of your dress. “This wouldn’t be real.”
“What even is this?” His breath fans across your neck, and you’re sure you feel the sublest brush of his lips on your skin. “Tell me where you think this is going. After all, I’m helping you with your dress like a good husband.”
“My dress was dealt with minutes ago.”
“Darling.” He tsks. “If your dress was dealt with already, it would be long, long gone.”
Even like this, you refuse to let him win. If this were to be the extent of your relationship with Chenle, you’d be fine with that. You crave satisfaction, and you also know this is a means to an end. This may be the key to giving your family those fucking heirs they want so badly.
In a bold move, you release your grip on the fabric and allow it to crumple at your feet.
“What?” You tilt your head, grinning when his breathing halts. “Are you the only one who can deliver?”
He places his hand on your hip. “Can I touch you here?”
“Mhm,” you inhale sharply when he squeezes, trying your best not to roll back against him.
“Here?” he whispers, splaying his fingers out along your stomach.
“What’s your goal?” you ask, looking back at him over your shoulder. “You seem like you want something from me.”
His face is much too close to yours, but for some reason, it does little to bother you. When his lips part, you don’t mean to squirm in his touch.
His eyes sweep over your expression, his touch edging just a little further downward until he can play with the lace hem of your panties.
“I’ve told you what I want already.” His gaze locks on your mouth. “Everything. I want it all.”
You gulp, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of yourself.
“What about me makes this hard for you?” he asks.
Despite the softness of his voice, your proximity to him means you see the hint of hurt swimming around in his dark irises. The heat of his bare skin on yours has everything inside you awakening, but you can’t give him what he wants.
“The choice is yours.” He takes a deep breath. “Going forward, the choice is always yours to make. I’m yours in any way you want me.”
The atmosphere around you is so hot, charged, you can’t help the way you struggle to breathe. You lean closer to him, and when your lips brush his, his grip around you tightens.
Before he’s able to initiate a real kiss, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.
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a-reader-and-a-writer · 7 months
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I Love You, But More Importantly, I Trust You (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Fandom: Marvel, Avengers, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Word Count: 2911 Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Bucky isn't sure what to give you that will adequately express how he really feels. Finally, he decides to give you the one piece of himself he's been hiding all this time... TW: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Past Trauma, Emotional & Physical Scars, Description of Past Injuries, Undressing, Kissing Note: Happy Valentine's Day!!! I thought our favorite traumatized soldier needed some loving today (even if it involves some emotional vulnerability first)
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“Hey, Buck. Are you all ready for tonight?”
Bucky glanced up from the television screen, one eyebrow raised slightly, to stare at his best friend as he walked into the room followed closely by Sam. “What’s tonight?”
“Umm, Valentine’s Day?” Sam said. “Damn, I know you’ve been on ice for the last 70 or so of them, but wasn’t that a thing back in the 40’s?”
Steve chuckled. “It was but back then Bucky…well, let’s just say he didn’t usually keep the same girl around for more than a few dates.”
Sinking into the couch cushion, Bucky muttered, “Steve was the romantic one. I was young and cocky and just looking for a good time, not something serious.”
Sam plopped down on the arm of the couch. “You better not let your girlfriend hear you say that or Tony’ll have to build you a new right arm to match that shiny left one.”
“What I have with her is nothing like those girls in the past!” Bucky snapped, but then his tone softened as he stared down at his hands. “I…I love her.” 
He had first whispered those words to you a few months ago when he asked you to share his quarters in the Tower with him, but it was still strange saying them in front of his friends. Neither of you were big on public displays of affection or grand romantic gestures so Bucky doubted either Steve or Sam realized how deeply he truly cared about you. To them, this might just seem like another fling or someone to keep his bed warm, but in reality, nothing could be farther from the truth.
As if reading his mind, Steve placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. “Well, today’s the day you’re supposed to prove that to her. Why don’t you buy her some flowers, a box of chocolate, a stuffed animal or two, and then take her out for a nice dinner? That’s what most people do. Just show her a good time and then let her know what she means to you. She’ll love it.”
Bucky nodded though he wasn’t so sure. That stuff might be fine for most girls, but you weren’t most girls. Far from it. You were unlike anyone he had ever met before and while he did want to do something special to show you how he felt, he knew fancy food and generic trinkets weren’t the way. He would have to find something else, something you would value more than the crap they were selling at all the local stores. 
And as much as the idea terrified him, he thought he knew just the thing.
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Dragging yourself into your quarters as soon as the Quinjet landed, you flopped back onto the bed and draped your arm across your eyes. You loved your job and couldn’t imagine being anything other than a SHIELD agent, but weeks like this left you considering an early retirement. Globetrotting and tracking down rogue agents on less than a few hours of sleep had been the dream a few years ago. However, as you got older–and now actually had someone waiting for you when you came home–that life was losing some of its appeal.
You had just started to slip into unconsciousness when you heard a shuffling come to a stop at the edge of the room. Without moving your arm from its place over your eyes, you mumbled, “Hey, baby. Sorry I didn’t come find you but you weren’t around when I came in so I thought you might be out. However–” you said with a tired chuckle “–it would seem as though we’re both home.”
“How was it?”
Noting a slight tension in Bucky’s voice, you began to answer his question. “Ugh, just the same old, same old. Fury is all over my ass about this latest intel. I told him I can’t do anything else until he gives me–” 
You fell silent as you raised your head and got your first glimpse of your boyfriend. He was wearing your ratty, faded pink bathrobe that was stretched taut across his muscular shoulders and arms. The bottoms of the robe hung open and loose–revealing a glimpse of his boxers underneath–but at the top across his bare chest, he clutched the robe closed securely as if his life depended on it. His teeth were clenched tightly, his long hair grazing his pronounced jawline as it fell over his face. And even though his eyes were partially obscured and he was avoiding your gaze, it was impossible not to recognize the fear within them.
Sitting up, you softly asked, “Hey, Buck… what’s going on?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” he muttered bluntly as if that explained everything. 
Quietly, you cursed to yourself. You had never given a damn about Valentine’s Day, even as a little kid in school when you were supposed to pass out the cheap cards all the parents bought for everyone in class. And now as an adult, things haven't changed. In fact, until he mentioned it, the significance of the day had completely slipped your mind. But even now that you had been reminded, it didn’t explain why Bucky was wearing your robe.
“I guess it is. Did we…did we have plans? I can’t for the life of me remember us talking about it but you know how I tend to lose track of everything while I’m gone on a mission. I could–Well, it’s kind of late to get a reservation, but we could try to order in?” 
Bucky didn’t respond. Instead, he just continued to stand in the bedroom doorway, the knuckles on his right hand starting to turn white with how tightly he was clutching the sides of the robe shut. 
Afraid he might be having some sort of flashback and unsure of what to do, you slid to the edge of the bed until your feet rested on the floor. “Bucky? Baby, did something happen? Why are you wearing that?”
Taking a long, deep breath, Bucky muttered, “Steve and Sam said on Valentine’s Day people are supposed to give each other flowers and chocolates and crappy stuffed animals to show how much they care about each other. I started to go to the store to get you those things, but thinking about it, nothing felt right. I’m sure you would act like you loved it, but we both know you don’t care about that kind of shit. Plus, none of that would show you how I really feel about you. So, instead, I decided to give you me…All of me.”
As his grip on the robe slowly started to loosen, you inhaled sharply as it hit you what he was planning. Jumping from the bed, you crossed the room in three long strides and placed your hands over his, stopping the robe from falling open. “No, Buck, you don’t have to do that. I mean, it’s incredible that you thought to offer, but I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with just because of the date on the calendar.”
For the first time since you came home, Bucky lifted his head to look you straight in the eye. Fear still radiated from him–causing his blue eyes to seem even brighter than usual–but beyond that was a steely determination that you had only seen in the heat of battle. Gently, he removed your hands from his as he said in a strong, clear voice, “I want to. I love you, doll. And more importantly, I trust you.”
Tears began to blur your vision but you quickly blinked them away. Some people might have been slightly annoyed to hear him put trust over love, but you knew that to Bucky, trust was the most important thing in the world. He had been used, lied to, and betrayed so many times that he hadn’t been sure he could ever fully trust someone again.
He had told you as much just before the two of you had slept together for the first time. However, that night had just seemed like a one-time hook-up after an intense mission so as long as he gave you what you needed, you couldn’t give a fuck whether he trusted you or not. But when one time turned into two which turned into three which eventually turned into feelings developing on both sides, it became more of an issue. And while you knew at this point he trusted you more than almost anyone else, there was still one part of himself he hid from you. 
No one but a select few SHIELD doctors had ever seen the place where Bucky’s shoulder met his metal arm. In the locker rooms before missions, he would disappear into the bathroom stall to change into his uniform. He would join everyone at the pool or the beach but refused to go in the water or get wet enough to cause his shirt to cling tightly to his body. And when the two of you were alone and got intimate, he always left his shirt or jacket on the entire time. 
The only few times he had made an exception to this was after he bought a set of triple-layer blackout curtains for the bedroom, and even then it was a rare occurrence he would strip down completely. When he did, out of respect for him, you tried your best not to let your fingers brush against his shoulder in the darkness, but it had occasionally happened. Even without being able to see it, the feeling of the tough ridge of scar tissue abruptly shifting into cold, smooth metal painted enough of a mental image for you to have a vague idea of what it must be like. 
And you understood why he wanted to keep it hidden from view.
But now Bucky was standing before you in the middle of a fully lit room prepared to bare all. All he had to do was drop the robe.
Taking a step back, you nodded. “If this is what you want—if you think you’re ready to show me— then I’m ready. But, baby, don’t do this unless you are positive you’re not going to regret it.”
The smallest flicker of a smile flashed across Bucky’s face as his fingers tightened around the edges of the robe. “I told you…I trust you.”
And he let your robe drop to the floor.
It took everything in you not to react or burst into tears as you gazed at where his scarred, raised flesh melded into shiny metal. The way the arm was fused into his mangled skin made your stomach churn and bile burn in the back of your throat. But it wasn’t its appearance that made you on the edge of breaking down. No. It was the thought of how much pain and torture HYDRA had put Bucky through to do this. How these visible scars were just the beginning of the damage they inflicted on him and how even though he had broken free of their control, there were just as many scars left behind that you couldn’t see as there were on display before you right now.
Bucky’s eyes were laser-focused on your face, seemingly scanning it for any clue as to what you were thinking. Stepping closer to him once more, you wet your lips before asking, “Can… Can I touch it?” 
He nodded slightly but just before your fingers brushed against the metal, you drew your fingers back. “It won’t hurt you, will it?”
“Sometimes it still hurts,” he admitted, “but not when it’s touched. There’s just some leftover nerve damage that flares up from time to time. Hurts like hell, but even that’s nothing compared to how it was at first.”
He had never mentioned still having pain, but even more than that, he had never talked about the transition period from Bucky Barnes into the Winter Soldier, at least not to you. There was a file somewhere that contained all the information SHIELD had collected on him from various HYDRA bases they had raided as well as a SHIELD interview that had been conducted when Bucky first joined, but out of respect for Bucky, you had never sought it out. 
“You remember that? Wha–what they did to you?”
“I remember every second of it.” The venom in Bucky’s words caught you momentarily off guard, but you understood it wasn’t you that hatred was directed at. “They might have wiped most of my conscious memory, but the process never erased the pain. They didn’t want it to. It was left as a reminder of what they could do and as a promise of what would happen again if I didn’t follow their orders.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Looking at his shoulder again, your own rage bubbled in your chest. “All those bastards who did this to you better be glad they’re dead because if I ever got my hands on them–”
Bucky chuckled softly. “If I remember correctly, you did get your hands on a few of them.”
“Yeah, but that was before I knew what they had done to you. If I had, I would have made them regret every scar and mark they left on your body.” 
But as disgusted as you were at what HYDRA had made Bucky endure, you knew your hatred wasn’t what he needed right now. So, placing one hand on the side of his face, you turned your thoughts to the gift he had given you instead. “But, hey, I know I can’t fix what they did. However, I hope you know seeing this doesn’t change how I feel about you. If anything, it makes me love you more.”
Taking his metal hand, you gently placed a kiss on his cold fingertips. Then you placed another on his knuckles. Then the back of his hand. Then his wrist. 
Slowly, you moved up his arm, peppering soft, feather-like kisses along the way. You knew despite its hard, steely appearance, the vibranium prosthetic was sensitive enough to detect the slightest changes in temperature or the lightest of pressures. And judging by the way Bucky’s eyes flickered closed as he leaned his head back with a peaceful sigh, he could feel each and every one of your kisses. 
You had done this many times before, especially on those nights he was wrestling with his past or consumed with feelings of guilt and remorse. It was always the same: you started at his fingertips and continued until you reached the red star on his shoulder. Each kiss was to remind him you loved him—all of him. 
However, this time, after you kissed the star, you didn’t stop. Bucky’s eyes flew open and his body went rigid as you placed a kiss on the top of his shoulder…one on the silver metal covering his chest…one on the place where skin and metal met. 
You could feel him shaking slightly and you peered up through your lashes to make sure he was still alright. When he caught you staring, he gave you the smallest of nods. With this reassurance, you placed another kiss on his scars and another. You moved diligently from the top of his shoulder down to the very bottom of the metal plating. Once there, you worked your way back up the same path. When you reached the top of his shoulder, you began moving up his neck and then across his jaw.
You only stopped when your lips were hovering a breath above his. Tears were glistening in both of your eyes as you whispered, “I know you thought this would change things or make me feel different about you, and it has.” Bucky’s face crumpled slightly and he tried to pull away, but you held his face firmly in your hand. As you smiled, you continued, “I thought I loved you this morning. But seeing how much I mean to you, how much you truly trust me…I’ve never loved anyone or felt as loved by them as I do right now. This is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you, baby.”
You leaned forward slightly, pressing your lips against his as you tried to put all of your love and gratitude into the kiss so he knew what he meant to you. For just a second, he froze. But then Bucky melted into you as you felt the last of his walls crumble around you. He was standing before you as raw and as vulnerable as a person could be, it was the most breathtaking thing you had ever experienced.
Without breaking the kiss, you took his cold, hard hand in your warm, soft one and blindly began leading him to the bed. Once there, you turned so his back was to the mattress and you pressed forward, forcing him down onto his back. 
Finally breaking the kiss, you climbed onto the bed too, straddling his waist as you placed your hand over the damaged part of his arm he had shared with you. Rolling your hips slightly against his, you purred, “It’s still Valentine’s Day and though I don’t have anything half as special as the gift you gave me, I plan on spending the rest of the night showing you how much I love you.”
In one fluid motion, you removed your shirt and tossed it behind you where it landed on top of the discarded robe. 
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Taglist:  @tavners, @sunshineflowerchild789, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @merlehs, @princessmisery666, @ohtobeleah, @musings-of-a-rose, @blue-aconite
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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 27
Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC
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Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 
Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.
Chapter Warnings: Discussions about intimate partner violence, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, drug abuse, and alcohol abuse.
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Chapter Quote: "I got to snuggle some baby goats."
It took everything in me to hold back the sob that threatened to escape the instant I heard Dieter’s voice. I momentarily placed my hand over my mouth to hold it in and compose myself. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to find my voice. 
“Dieter?” 
I could hear his stuttered breathing on the other end of the line. He sounded like he was battling with his emotions too. 
He cleared his throat, “Yeah… it’s me.”
I sighed loudly into the phone as the tears started to slide down my face. I felt like my brain had completely shut down on me, unsure of what to say but also feeling the urge to say everything all at once. It was so overwhelming but also awkward since we had not talked in so long. There were still so many things up in the air between us. 
“How’ve you been?” He asked, sounding unsure of himself. I felt like he didn’t know what to say either. 
I sniffed loudly as I wiped at my face, “Umm, I’ve been ok. How are you feeling?” 
“I’m feeling good. Normal, I think…then again…I’m not sure I really know what normal is,” we both laughed nervously.
“I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can confidently say that at least,” he added. 
I smiled. It was nice to know that he was feeling better. It helped dampen some of the worry I had been feeling. 
“How are things going, otherwise?”
“Well, I got to snuggle some baby goats during group therapy this morning. I kinda want one now.”  He sounded unabashed about this revelation. 
“Of course you do,” I said in response, shaking my head and chuckling at the thought. 
“I gotta new roommate two weeks ago…Gordon is his name. He’s an interesting guy…he uhhh…” he stifled a laugh before continuing. “He said he came here because the wall outlets were talking to him. Like, full conversations. They finally stopped after he got his meds sorted out. Made me feel a little better about my issues.”
I was a little dumbfounded, “Ummm, I’m not sure if I should laugh about that or not…” Dieter snickered, “He jokes about it now, so I think it’s ok.” 
It felt good to hear him laughing again. I had missed that sound more than I realized. I really missed his voice in general. He sounded different. Better, lighter almost. It was a sound I wanted to commit to memory. 
“Umm…so Gabby said you didn’t take that job offer?” His nervousness had returned with that question. 
“No, I turned it down.” I started rubbing at my shoulder with my free hand as I moved to sit down at the kitchen table. 
“Why? It sounded like an amazing opportunity”
I sighed, now rubbing at the crease between my brows, “It was, but it’s not where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I would’ve had to give up too much and I don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to do that.”
“I hope it wasn’t because of me…”
“No. I mean, I guess I can’t say no. You’re part of it…but my life is here. I can’t leave Lauren or even Gabby and Alex at this point. We’ve all gotten so close. And like I said, I’m not in the right headspace for that. I would’ve been spending a lotta time alone and I don’t wanna do that right now. It just wasn’t where I felt like I should be. I didn’t feel any kind of excitement over it at all, so I turned it down”
I suddenly felt vulnerable revealing that to him, questioning if I should have. I didn’t want him to worry about me when he needed to be focusing on himself. 
“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked quietly. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I’m just…I-” I huffed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to finish that thought. I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how he was feeling or make an ass of myself. 
I heard him chuckle quietly over my flustered response, “I miss you too.” 
I was instantly calmed by his words, my anxiety about where we stood easing some. I let out a shy laugh at his declaration, tears still running down my face as I sniffled out, “You do?”
“Of course, I do, so fucking much… I - I’m sorry I haven't called you. I wanted to make sure I had a clear head when I did, and then I didn’t really know what to say after everything that happened.”
I heard him inhale sharply before he spoke up again, there was a tapping noise, like he was drumming his fingers against something.
“Listen, I’ve only got a few minutes left before they cut me off for today, but the reason I called…” 
He paused, clearing his throat nervously, “Umm, so I wanted to see if you would be willing to come here and do a session with my psychiatrist and me…”
“Of course, when?”
“Whenever you can. Just uhh, call my case worker and she’ll get it scheduled.” 
I could hear him shuffle around before he started cursing under his breath. 
“Well, I was gonna give you the number but now I can’t find it...Gabby should have it.” 
I couldn’t help but to snigger at him. He was still a little bit of a hot mess, which I loved about him. 
He followed up with an exasperated “sorry” about not being able to find the number before he let out a quiet laugh at himself. It felt like part of it was his nervousness too. 
“I’ll text her to get it as soon as we hang up and I’ll call immediately.” 
I could hear him sigh in relief before a beeping noise broke into our conversation with an automated message giving a one minute warning. 
“I’ll be there tomorrow if they’ll let me…or at least as soon as they’ll let me,” I said in a rush. Suddenly feeling the pressure of our limited time. I still felt like I had so many things to say to him. 
“I would like that. I…I really can’t wait to see you…” 
His words trailed off, shaking slightly as he was hit with another wave of emotions. 
“I can’t wait to see you either,” I replied with a quivering voice. 
After a moment of silence, there was a clicking sound as the line disconnected. I held the phone against my forehead, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Once I was able to focus my thoughts, I sent a quick text to Gabby to let her know that Dieter had called and that I needed the number for his case worker. I half expected her to call me, but thankfully she didn’t. She replied back quickly with the number and that she was happy he finally reached out. She followed that message up with another asking me if I was ok and if I needed to talk about it. I appreciated her offer, but I was good for now and let her know as much. Once I finished texting with Gabby, I dialed the number for the case worker, suddenly feeling nervousness forming in the pit of my stomach. 
“Sanctuary Hills, this is Sharon,” the polite, yet comforting voice answered.
“Hi Sharon, this is Natalia Cohen…” She cut in before I could continue. 
“Oh, Talia, hi. I’ve been expecting your call. Dieter told me he was going to be calling you.” 
I let out a nervous laugh, slightly taken aback by the familiarity in which she said my name. It made me wonder how much he had talked about me. 
“I assume you’re calling about an appointment for a family session?” 
I didn’t know why, but it stirred something in me when she called it a family session. Technically, I wasn’t his family, but they were treating me as if I were. I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes again as I exhaled out a breathy “yes” in response.
“That’s wonderful news, I know he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice
“I can’t wait to see him either,” I replied, still trying to keep the emotions out of my words.
“Alright, let me have a look at the schedule. Dr. Rosenberg did ask that you be prepared to be available for at least a week for additional sessions, if possible.” 
“Additional sessions?” I was confused. I couldn’t recall if the same thing had been asked of Gabby, which caused my anxiety to flare.  
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for that to happen. It’s mostly educational sessions for family members if they’re willing to participate.”
“Oh, ok. That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed nervously. 
“When would you like to come in?” she asked with a calming tone.
“As soon as you can get me in is preferable.” I started tapping on the table as I waited for options, listening to the clicking of a keyboard on her end. 
“How about 10 AM the day after tomorrow?” 
“I’ll take it,” I said a little too eagerly. The anticipation of seeing Dieter again was starting to get to me. 
“I have it scheduled. In case you do end up staying for additional sessions, we have apartments on site for patient families. So, you won’t have to worry about lodging. We don’t want you stressing about that while you’re here.”
“Oh, that’s…nice. Thanks for letting me know.”
“When you arrive for your session, come in the north entrance with the blue awning and they'll get you checked in. It’s a different entrance than where you would have come in before.”  
I thanked her and our conversation ended soon after that. Afterwards, I sat staring out the kitchen window, feeling the anxiousness settle into my gut. Not knowing what to expect was always the worst for me. It was like that call had started a countdown, to what, I wasn’t sure. I could only hope the end result would be something positive. 
The morning of our session, I had a ridiculously early flight so that I could be there in time. I decided to keep things simple with minimal makeup, a messy bun, sunglasses, sneakers, skinny jeans, and one of Dieter’s button up dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I had raided his closet while I was at his house cleaning up. It was something small, but being wrapped in his scent or wearing something that belonged to him brought me some comfort during my time without him. His clothing quickly became a staple in my casual attire. 
I was so anxious about seeing Dieter again that the flight didn’t faze me like it normally would have. Though it was an hour and a half, it seemed much quicker as the minutes continued to count down and the distance between us shortened. I could feel myself getting more worked up the closer I got. By the time I acquired the rental car and was on the road to the facility, my chest was heavy. Breathing was getting harder with each mile that passed. 
When I pulled into the parking lot, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I sat gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands and taking deep breaths. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous, it’s not like I knew what Dieter was planning to talk to me about. However, deep down I had a fear, though most likely irrational, that he was going to realize he didn’t really want to be with me after this. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that a second time if it were to happen. Without permission, the tears started to streak down my cheeks, and I felt like I was going to be sick. 
After a few more deep breaths, I slammed my fist down on the stop of the steering wheel out of frustration, “Fucking hell, get it together Talia.”  
My head dropped back onto the headrest as I squeezed my eyes shut, still taking deep controlled breaths. After several minutes passed, I let out a slow exhale before opening my eyes. Feeling more relaxed, I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a complete mess before exiting the vehicle to go inside. 
I was starting to have an out of body feeling as I went through the check in process. I couldn’t really remember walking to the building or anything the lady behind the desk had just said to me as I sat down in the lobby to wait. After a few minutes, one of the receptionists called my name and led me through a secure door down a long hallway. We passed several offices that had glass inserts in the doors with shades. Most of the shades were pulled closed, however, I noticed one was open. As I approached, I glanced inside and was met with a familiar figure sitting in a high backed desk chair in the middle of the room with his head leaned back and eyes closed as he spun back and forth, his legs bouncing ever so often. He was sitting on the opposite side of a desk from a woman who was possibly in her fifties, with graying hair and a kind face. Though, she did have a slightly overwhelmed look about her as her eyes met mine through the glass. 
I stopped briefly, watching him wave his hands animatedly as he talked incessantly, never raising his head or opening his eyes. I felt a small smirk sneak across my face. He was nervous too. I could tell. My eyes flicked back to the woman, who was watching me watch him with a soft smile on her face. 
My attention was pulled away by the receptionist, who was now at my side waiting for me to continue following her. 
“He’s been driving us all crazy this morning. I think poor Sharon is getting the worst of it. He’s beyond excited that you’re here today.” 
I chuckled at the thought before continuing down the hallway. I was led into a spacious office. It was modern and white with floor to ceiling windows on one side with nothing in sight but nature. All the furnishings were earth tones of brown and deep reds and oranges. I noticed there were a lot of plants filling the space, which added a homey feeling, in a strange sort of way. It also struck me how there were different seating areas on either side of the room. One had a small couch and cushy chair positioned in front of it, while the other had four cushy chairs sitting closely together in a circle. Each of the seats were adorned with soft looking pillows in various shades matching the space. There was a traditional desk setup in the center of the room with two chairs placed in front of it. Each area felt carefully designed to meet specific needs.   
Moments after entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Rosenberg who first shook my hand, then pulled me in for a loose hug. 
“Talia, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you the last couple of months.” 
It took me by surprise, though I felt like it shouldn’t have. There was a certain familiarity and kindness that everyone seemed to have toward me. Everyone had been very warm and welcoming thus far. It was comforting to know this was the type of environment that Dieter had been in. 
I gave her a tight lipped smile as she led me over to sit in one of the four chairs in a circle. To my surprise, the chair spun slightly as I sat in it. Dr. Rosenberg turned hers to face me directly, so I did the same with mine. I had managed to stay composed thus far, but my nervousness was starting to show as I reached up and rubbed at my shoulder. The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as she watched my movements. I stopped, sat up straight and placed both hands on top of my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting. 
I’m not sure why, but I felt the need to appear like I had my shit together. I took a minute to study her as she gave me a soft smile while she continued to get settled, grabbing a notepad, file folder, pen, and glasses from the small table next to her seat. She was probably in her early fifties, maybe late forties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in business casual attire. I could tell she wanted to appear professional, but not uninviting. She was also definitely looking at my body language very closely, which was making me feel antsy. My therapist used to do that, and I hated it. I mentally smacked myself over my thoughts. I was already putting up walls and we hadn’t even started talking yet. 
“Well, it’s been an exciting morning around here. Dieter is definitely happy you’re here. He was asked to leave his group session this morning because he couldn't focus. He’s been bugging poor Sharon ever since.” She laughed and smiled affectionately at her words.
She was trying to get me to relax. I knew that I looked too tense. I let out a breathy laugh as I sat back further in the seat, trying to appear less uptight, but I didn't think it was working. She gave me a sympathetic look suddenly, “You’re nervous to see him.” 
It wasn’t a question. Looking down at my hands, I chuckled to myself briefly before clearing my throat to speak, “Yeah, I guess I am. I just…don’t know what to expect.”
“That’s a perfectly normal feeling. It’s not unusual for family members to worry if their loved one is going to be different after treatment. Is that some of what you’re feeling?”
Her question took me by surprise, “Ummm, maybe. Sort of...maybe not so much about him being different…more about him feeling differently.” 
She nodded, “I understand. I can’t say that he won’t be different. His personality may present differently, more calm, less emotional or moody. He will feel differently in that he won’t be cycling from one extreme to the other, emotionally. As far as how he feels ABOUT things, that isn’t going to change just because he’s stabilized. Does that make sense?” 
I gave a tight nod, “Yeah, it does.” It didn’t do anything to ease my anxiety though because I still didn’t know how he really felt about us. She eyed me for a second before continuing.
“So, I’ll fill you in on my plan for today. First, you and I are going to chat about Dieter’s diagnosis. Once we’re done, I’m going to bring him in for the session. After that, you and I will have a follow-up meeting to discuss the path forward. Does that sound ok to you?”   
“Yeah, that’s fine.” I started to chew on my bottom lip while she flipped through the file in her hand.
“Great. Just so you’re aware, Dieter signed release forms for you to have access to his medical and treatment information. Nothing is off the table, so if you have questions, ask. He made it clear to me that he wants you to know everything and wants you involved as much as you want to be.”
I paused briefly, shocked by that information. I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Ok...I wasn’t expecting that.” 
She smiled before continuing, “Alright, let’s get to it then?” She raised her brows at me, asking permission to proceed. I motioned with my hand to continue.  
“So, he’s been formally diagnosed with mixed episode Bipolar I Disorder (BD). In simple terms, bipolar disorder is when someone experiences extreme behavioral or mood changes. The extreme highs are called manic episodes, and lows are episodes of depression. Most people with BD go through highs and lows over an extended period of time. Someone with mixed episodes, like Dieter has, tend to experience both highs and lows simultaneously or in a rapid sequence with no recovery time.”
She paused, giving me a minute to digest her words. I couldn’t say I was surprised by the diagnosis, it actually made a lot of his behavior make sense. When I didn’t speak up, she continued. 
“I think what happened with Dieter…he was put on a lot of medication. Antidepressants in particular can be very tricky for someone with BD. It can cause an increased risk of mood destabilization when the antidepressants are not taken with a mood stabilizer. He was on pretty much everything but a mood stabilizer. You add that in with not sleeping, not eating, drinking, anxiety, and episode triggers…it’s a recipe for disaster. Sometimes being improperly medicated like that can trigger suicidal ideation and even psychosis. Honestly, he was fighting a losing battle.”
I leaned forward in my seat, placing my elbows on my knees while I rubbed at my face. I felt anger bubbling in my chest. 
“Why didn’t his therapists or doctors catch what was happening?”
“One reason…lack of experience. BD is also incredibly hard to diagnose because it shares symptoms with so many other more common disorders like anxiety, depression, PTSD, and ADHD, which is what he was being treated for. That’s not to say he doesn’t have those things as well, but if he does, we need to take a different treatment approach.” 
I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, that actually kind of blows my mind.” 
“I know… and I’m surprised that no one thought to look into it, given his family history. It can be hereditary, and BD does have a high suicide rate. Given what happened with his mother, it should’ve been considered. Also, the fact that he experienced trauma in dealing with that incident...trauma often causes the onset of symptoms.” 
I sighed heavily as the tears started to pool in my eyes, “This actually…kind of pisses me off that he had to go through all of this needlessly. He fucking hated taking that stuff because of the way it made him feel.”  
“That brings me to my next topic...It's been hard to get a baseline with him. I feel like a lot of the things he was experiencing were side effects from all the medications he was on. I can’t really rely on his history before he started the medication because he was using recreational and prescription drugs and drinking heavily to self medicate, which could have been making things worse for him during that time as well.” She paused briefly to gauge my reaction, “I assume you knew about his past substance abuse issues?”
“Yeah, he’s mentioned it…What does all that mean?”
“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what his actual symptoms are right now. So, to start, I’m doing the bare minimum. I’ve started him out on a low dose mood stabilizer called divalproex sodium. It’s actually…an anticonvulsant that’s normally used to treat seizures rather than a typical mood stabilizer like lithium.”
I drew my brows down together in confusion, “Why a seizure medication?” 
“That medication increases the amount of a chemical called gamma-aminobutyric acid in the brain. It works to block certain transmissions across the nerves in the brain and creates sort of an overall calming effect. That particular medication often works best for patients that have mixed or rapid cycling episodes. Lithium typically doesn’t get the job done in those instances. He seems to be doing well on it so far. We’ll give it a few more months to make sure everything else is out of his system and reevaluate.”    
“So, he went from taking half the pharmacy…to one thing?” 
“He did. He seems pretty set on limiting the medications as much as possible. He’s been spending a lot of his time doing cognitive behavioral therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy, and psychoeducation to help him manage his symptoms and learn about triggers and that sort of thing. He’s been very invested in it, and it seems to be helping.”
I sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed, “I don’t know what all of that is. I mean, I know cognitive behavioral therapy but…” I shook my head in confusion. 
“No worries, if you decide to continue with the family education sessions you’ll learn about that stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in...”
“Yeah, it is, but I’m happy that he’s hopefully on the right track now.” I took a couple of deep breaths to try and relax some as I continued to process things. 
“One last thing before I bring Dieter in...I know you two were no longer together before his hospitalization and you haven’t really had a chance to work things out. His preference is to stay with you when he leaves treatment. I do want to be able to manage his expectations if that isn’t going to be the case. I don’t want you to feel like you have to allow that if you aren’t ready to take all this on. I want you to know that you can say no.”
I was taken aback at her directness, but also appreciated it. I actually felt like I was warming up to her some and feeling more comfortable with opening up to her. I didn’t hesitate with my response, if anything, I said it with conviction, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke. 
“There’s no question in my mind about him coming home with me so long as he wants to. I’ve known from the start that he was struggling with his mental health, and I promised to support him through it. A new diagnosis doesn’t change anything for me. I’m all in for this.”
Dr. Rosenberg gave me a warm smile, clearly satisfied with my response. “Now I see why he says you can be a force to be reckoned with.”
My eyebrows shot up at her words as she again took me by surprise, “Dieter said that?” I chuckled at the thought as I leaned back in my seat, surprised that was the wording he chose. 
“He’s said a lot of things about you, all positive, of course.” She laughed quietly to herself as she set her glasses on the table. As she stood, she announced she was going to go get him for our joint sessions. 
After Dr. Rosenberg disappeared out the door, I could feel my anxiety returning. My chest was starting to tighten again as my heart beat a mile a minute. Instinctively, my right hand moved to rub at my shoulder. Was he going to be upset about how easily I gave up on us? I didn’t know how he couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like he was planning to end things for good even though that thought kept crossing my mind. It was clearly my pessimism and self-doubt seeping in. The thought of being completely open and vulnerable in this setting was making things worse too. I wasn’t a fan of having an audience, but I needed to get over that and not build up my walls right now. I propped my arm on the rest of the chair and started to rub at my forehead as my leg began to bounce. I couldn’t make myself stop the fidgeting no matter how hard I tried. 
After several minutes passed, Dr. Rosenberg returned with Dieter following behind her. His head was down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. As he approached me, he finally looked my way through his lashes. He gave me a small smile that widened as his eyes dropped down to my shirt, obviously noticing I was wearing one of his. I gave him a shy smile in return. He sat down in the chair directly in front of me as Dr. Rosenberg returned to her earlier spot. 
It was clear he was nervous by the way he couldn’t keep his hands still and how the heel of his croc kept bouncing off the tiled floor. He would only occasionally glance in my direction as we waited for Dr. Rosenberg to get settled again. I took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked so much better compared to the last time I had seen him. His light gray t-shirt was no longer loose looking around his fit torso. His pale skin had been replaced with a golden tan. His hair was longer and as wild as ever, framing his scruffy and patchy beard. His chocolate brown eyes looked clearer than I had ever seen them and were filled with nervousness and anticipation. 
Once Dr. Rosenberg was ready to start, she filled Dieter in on what she had discussed with me about his diagnosis. She then encouraged him to take the lead going forward and discuss the things he wanted to speak with me about. He rubbed his hands together nervously, briefly chewing on his bottom lip before he met my gaze to speak. 
“So, you’re…ok with that diagnosis?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what he meant and gave him a confused look. “Like, it doesn’t freak you out or anything? I know it’s a lot to deal with.” 
“Dieter, the diagnosis doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. Why would it bother me?”
“I dunno, I’m just afraid that at some point you’re gonna realize how big of a mess I am and run away from it all,” he said sheepishly. 
I chuckled, leaning forward in the seat with a teasing smile, “I realized how big of a mess you were a long time ago.”  He scratched at his chin as a smirk formed on his lips.
“Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the worst of it and I’m still here. My feelings for you haven’t changed. You don’t have to worry about that from me.”
His eyes turned glassy at my words as he pinched his brows together, looking downward at his hands in his lap. 
“I don’t deserve you, not after the way I treated you…the things I said. I was such an asshole to you.”
I bit at my bottom lip, shaking my head before speaking, “None of that matters to me. I know you weren’t completely yourself when you said those things.”
“No, I wasn’t but I still knew what I was doing and saying. I apparently tend to self-sabotage things. Some of the things I said, using your past against you, I knew it would hurt you. I wanted the words to hurt so you would let me go. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise.”
“Why though? I don’t understand why you felt the need to end things to begin with. Why was I a burden to you?”
His eyes widened at my question, brows shooting upward as he shook his head from side to side, “No, no you weren’t the burden…I was. I’m sorry I made you think that. I know the night I called, I wasn’t making a lot of sense. I…I hadn’t slept in days, and I was such a fucking mess.”
He licked his bottom lip and chewed at it for a second before continuing, “I could see how you were having to completely change everything about your life to accommodate me and my work just for us to be together. I knew it was eventually gonna be a problem and cause you stress because it was affecting your job. I didn’t wanna ruin your life that way. You shouldn’t have to cater your life to mine, it’s not fair. I love you too much to do that to you.”    
“Dieter, it wasn’t always gonna be like that. It just happened to be shitty circumstances caused by the remote location. If we hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, I could’ve worked without issue. We just weren’t prepared for the challenges that came up. This is a learning experience for both of us. We’ll know better for next time so I can plan accordingly…and it wasn’t like you weren’t making changes to meet me halfway.” 
He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, nodding in agreement. 
“I know that now, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly…obviously. It all made sense at the time.” He rolled his eyes, frustrated with his behavior. He took a deep breath before continuing.
“It was more than that though, I knew I was spiraling out of control. I could fucking feel it happening and didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t wanna tell you what was going on because I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you would drop everything and fly back to Canada to be with me.”
“You’re damn right I would’ve… and I should’ve done that anyway.” I could feel my emotions catching up to me, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down away from him. 
“I fucking knew it…in my gut that something was wrong, and I did nothing. If I had just done it…came up there anyway, this probably would’ve gone differently. I could’ve helped you through it, but no…I was a fucking coward. I gave up because I was selfish and wanted to protect myself. I didn’t even try because I was too afraid that I would end up in a dark place again if you didn’t want me to be there with you.”
The tears were streaking down my cheeks by this point. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I had so much anger for myself that it was making me feel sick. Dieter stood from his seat, closing the few feet between us, then got down on his knees on the floor in front of me. He moved to grab my hands in my lap, but hesitated. I reached up and grabbed his in response.
“I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to think that. It should’ve never happened. I should’ve been communicating everything with you instead of pushing you away. This whole fucking mess is my fault…I wanted to reach out so many times after that… to try and fix it, but you seemed like you were doing ok so I didn’t want to upset you again.”
The tears were streaming down his face now as he took a minute to try and compose himself. 
“I thought I could move on and just deal with things the way I used to…by numbing the pain. That’s when I started drinking heavily again. Then I saw you at the restaurant, and you looked so fucking amazing…and I was such a dick. I was so angry with myself for that. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had everything and fucked it up. My behavior after that night was reckless. There are days I can’t even remember because I was drinking so much. I just wanted to not think about it anymore.”
He pulled his hands away, looking down at the floor before wiping at his face. When he raised his head again, the pain in his eyes nearly made my heart stop. I reached out to cup his cheek, but he leaned away, seeming to need space.  
“The night that video of you was posted online…several people sent it to me. I didn’t watch it at first because I didn’t think it would mean anything…but when I finally did…”
He put his hand over his mouth, letting out a quiet sob, before continuing. 
“I could see how bad you were hurting…how bad I hurt you. What I did to you…I hated myself for it because you didn’t deserve that. It also reminded me of what I was missing out on because of how beautiful you sounded and looked…and that fucking song.” 
He paused for a minute, shaking his head. He sniffled and wiped at his face again before continuing.  
“I stayed up all night, watching it on a loop on the tv. I almost called you then, but stopped myself. I drank until I had nothing left instead. Then, when I ran into you the next morning, I could see how fucking broken you were. The way you looked at me…it fucking crushed me. I bought more alcohol and went back to the house. I don’t really remember much after that.”
He shook his head for a moment, pausing to take a few deep breaths, wiping at his face again. 
“I don’t even remember calling you…and…even after everything I did, you still came to me. You could’ve easily told me to fuck off and I would’ve deserved it, but you didn’t. I know I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t. You saved my life…I feel like you’ve been doing that ever since New York. When I say you’re my light in the darkness, I fucking mean it.”
I started sobbing into my hands. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands around his neck as he moved to hug me. We sat there in an embrace for some time before I started mumbling into his shoulder. 
“I was so afraid you were gonna hate me for giving up on you so easily. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Just know that it had nothing to do with you…I clearly still need to work on my own shit.”
He hugged me a little tighter as he buried his fingers in the back of my hair, “That thought never crossed my mind. Don’t even worry about it anymore.”  
He finally pulled back, wiping the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. We gave each other tight smiles as we locked eyes. He turned away, toward Dr. Rosenberg, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, and asked for some tissues. She picked up the box from her small table and handed it to him as he stood. He handed me several and took some for himself before handing the box back to her. She motioned for him to have a seat. As she turned to set the box back on the table, I noticed she was looking a little glassy eyed too. 
We all sat in silence as her eyes shifted between us. Dieter and I glanced at each other, confusion on our faces as we looked back toward her. She chuckled before she spoke.
“I’m not even sure why I’m here. This is literally the first family session ever where I didn’t have to intervene or lead a conversation. You two don’t seem to have any problems communicating, so I’m not sure how you ended up where you were.” 
We both smiled widely at her, surprised and appreciative of her honesty. Dieter spoke up with a chuckle.  
“I think between my fucked up brain and the distance…it didn’t do us any favors. We’re always at our best when we’re physically together, I think. Everything goes to hell when we aren’t. Clearly that is something I need to work on.”
Dr. Rosenberg nodded in agreement, “Well, I hate to separate you two again, but we are running short on time, and I want to have a chat with Talia about the plans going forward. Dieter, I’m pretty sure you have another group session coming up so you better head that way. You think you can focus enough for this one?” 
She raised an eyebrow in his direction as he laughed and nodded. He stood, quickly shuffling over to lean down and give me a hug before exiting the room.  
Dr. Rosenberg wasted no time getting back to business, “Talia, part of his treatment is making sure he has the support he needs when he gets home. That’s why we offer support to caretakers as well, because technically, you will be his caretaker as the only other person in the household with him.”
I knitted my brows together, confused about where this conversation was going. 
“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you have a traumatic history because Dieter has mentioned a few things. I don’t know the details, and I get the sense he doesn’t know it all either. I feel like whatever happened with your ex-husband is still affecting you. Is the dark place you mentioned something that you would be willing to talk to me about? Anything you tell me about yourself is confidential, just so you know.”
I sighed heavily as I ran both hands over my face, “So you picked up on that, huh?” I laughed nervously under her gaze. 
“You’re right, I haven’t told him everything. I keep telling myself I’ve moved past it, but after the last few months, I’ve realized that I just locked it away and pretended it didn’t exist. I tend to do that with a lot of things.” She gave me an encouraging smile, clearly picking up on my hesitation as I paused to gather my thoughts. 
“So, the last few years of my marriage, I started drinking heavily after finding no way out of the hell I was living in. The constant mental and psychological abuse was wearing me down, especially after I realized what was happening. When I tried to talk to Justin about a divorce, he would just tell me there was no way out because he wasn’t ready to give me up.” I paused briefly… focusing on something outside through the window. “I uhh, came home early from work one day and found him with another woman that he worked with. He of course said it was my fault, because I wasn’t giving him what he needed in the marriage. I knew what he was doing…and I was determined not to let it go because I felt I had a legitimate reason to end things at that point. I TOLD him I was leaving. I was done asking. When I started packing a bag, he hit me. The first time ever. I mean, he had shoved me around some, but never hit me across the face like that. He told me there was no leaving… that he would just find me and bring me home. Said no one would believe me or help because all of OUR friends knew how I was.”
“Talia, what did saying that out loud just now make you feel?”  
My eyes drifted over to meet hers, “I don’t really feel anything.” 
She arched a brow, “That’s because you're dissociating. I want you to focus on me as you speak and feel what you’re saying.”  
Fuck. She wasn’t going to let me cheat my way through this like my therapist did. I pinched my brows together as my eyes teared up again. I had to face this. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. When I opened them and met her gaze, she nodded for me to continue. 
“He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to. He made sure of that. He left after our argument, said he was going out with the guys. I doubt that’s where he went though. As soon as he left, I started drinking. I remember…feeling lost and pretty fucking hopeless after that. I couldn’t believe he hit me, and I was scared it would happen again. I never saw myself as someone who lets their husband abuse them…I felt disgusted over it. I must have drank a lot…because I can’t remember the rest of that night. I - I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I guess when he came home, he found me passed out in my own vomit.”
I started tapping on the arm of the chair as the tightness in my chest returned. The tears trickled out again. 
“When Justin finally came to see me, I told him that I was done. If he didn’t let me go, I was gonna find a way out…one way or another and I would make sure everyone knew it was his fault. Given that I had just put myself in the hospital, he took me at my word and agreed on a divorce. I guess he was afraid of what I would do.”
“What did you mean by that?”
I gave a half smile, “I honestly don’t know. I wonder that myself…what I was capable of. If I could’ve done anything.”
“What happened after you both agreed to the divorce?”
“Well, when I was still in the hospital, I reached out to one of my best friends that I grew up with, Lauren. We had kept in touch, even though I actively worked to put up a wall between us so she wouldn’t know what was really going on in my life because I was so embarrassed over it. She didn’t hesitate…she was at the hospital within the hour, and I told her everything. I stayed with her for a few weeks until I got my life sorted out. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her. Of course, Justin continued to torment me by dragging out the divorce for over a year. It got pretty nasty.”
“What effects do you feel like that experience had on you?” She asked quietly. 
“Experience.” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize twelve years of hell could be considered an experience.” 
She gave me a sympathetic look before I continued, “I mean, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was who he wanted me to be. After I left him, he was still in my head with everything I did. What I was wearing, how I fixed my hair and makeup, things I said. I couldn’t do some of the simplest things without hearing his voice telling me I was doing something wrong and having a fucking panic attack over it. I couldn’t make decisions…and yes, I would still drink to numb my feelings and calm myself down. Only this time, I knew exactly how much I could drink without taking it too far.”
“Are those things still an issue for you now?”    
I shook my head, “No, I mean, I did all the cognitive behavioral therapy and the sessions. I eventually got to a point where the negative thoughts stopped. I think Dieter had a lot to do with that…he kind of helped me see myself in a different light…but I do still have anxiety sometimes and I think I’ve reverted back to ignoring my feelings… compartmentalizing everything and pretending it’s not there. Throwing myself into work and staying busy to keep my mind occupied. I’ve been doing that instead of drinking the feelings away.” 
Dr. Rosenberg leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee with a pensive look on her face.   
“Talia…would you be willing to stay for the next three weeks to work through some of this with me? It would be outpatient treatment…a couple hours a day. You can stay in one of our apartments.” 
I sucked in a quick breath. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but at the same time, I almost felt relieved. My gut told me I needed it and I knew I couldn’t go on the way I had been because I was eventually going to self-destruct if I didn’t take better care of myself. I knew I couldn’t fully be there for Dieter if I was still battling with myself. I sat staring at my hands as I thought through the offer. I could still work remotely, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I raised my head to meet her eyes, “Will Dieter know what I’m doing?”   
“Only if you want him to.”
“I don’t want to saddle him with my shit right now…I don’t wanna mess him up.” 
“Honestly, I think he’s stable at this point. I think he could handle whatever you wanted to share with him. If you wanted, we could even do some more joint sessions, or he can just be there for support if you want him to be. It’s all up to you really.”
“What would you do?” I asked, letting out a stuttered breath with my question. She took a minute to consider her response, biting on the inside of her cheek as she did so.   
“I don’t think it would be bad if you shared everything with him. The more open you are with one another, the better. Communication is going to be a huge factor in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. At least if he knows what’s going on he can support you, just like you support him. Also, if he needs help processing through things, we can help him with that while he’s here…but again, it’s your decision.” 
“Yeah, I mean he knows most of it anyway…Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll stay and I want him involved.”
She gave me a bright smile, “I’m actually really happy to hear that. I think this will allow you to build a solid foundation going forward. I’m excited for your future together. I can tell that you both care deeply for each other and I really want your time here to be successful.” 
I gave her thanks for the opportunity she was giving me. I’ve known for a while that I had things that I needed to work on but didn't really know where to start. The fact that Dieter seemed so at ease with her and was doing so well gave me some comfort and the courage to jump in head first. 
The next three weeks were a whirlwind of educational sessions to help me learn about bipolar disorder; the triggers, coping strategies, and lifestyle changes to minimize stress. I even had an opportunity to learn more about Dieter’s medication and possible interactions and side effects so I would be able to spot them. He had asked that I be involved with his Interpersonal and Social Rhythm therapy, which was designed to help him build a daily routine of healthy habits to manage his moods. Given his job, sometimes a routine was almost impossible for him to keep, but we learned strategies to deal with that when confronted with it. It was all very helpful for the both of us.
I had my sessions too of course. He sometimes set in on them if we were doing something particularly hard that day. His presence helped keep me grounded and got me through a lot. He was taking time to learn about ways to help me cope better and we worked together on effective communication skills. 
Dr. Rosenberg recommended that I start keeping a journal to help me work through my emotions. I was iffy about it at first, but Dieter was also doing it and he loved it. He was very encouraging about it. It was something that I had come to enjoy doing after a few days. We had even taken to having a shared journal between us to better communicate our feelings, which Dr. Rosenberg loved the idea of and encouraged. 
Even though Dieter and I weren’t able to spend a whole lot of time together during those three weeks, I could always feel his presence and support. It’s what kept me going through it all. I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it without him. By the time my last day of treatment came around, he was given the all clear for discharge. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to know that we would be going home…together.
A/N: How excited are we that these two are finally back together? How badly did this chapter hit the feels? Did you cry? If you did, hopefully this will be the last time...unless you are a happy crier. There may be happy tears later. 😉 How are we feeling about Dieter's diagnosis? Does it change how you view some of his past behavior? What about that revelation from Talia? I mean, are we really surprised though; the girl has had a complicated relationship with alcohol throughout the whole story. How do you think things are going to go when they get back home? Do you think they will pick up where they left off or have some growing pains? We will find out in the next chapter. 😁 I am 100% failing at life and did not get the Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post done. I need to do a little fact checking and didn't have the brain power for it. However, once I get that ready, it will be posted HERE. The topic for Deconstructing Dieter Bravo Part 3 will be his diagnosis. I will tag all the usuals in the posts once it is ready. Hopefully you will find it to be educational. 💜 👉 I do want to share some details on upcoming projects that will be released for the holidays. I am participating in the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. I have received my gift prompt, and you may be excited to know that you will be getting a Dieter Bravo one shot from me by Christmas. I already have some ideas swirling around for it and it's not related to any current fics. It should be fun. Be sure to follow the #pedrostoriesgift23 hashtag to check out all the awesome work that will be included for the event. If you would like to be tagged on this one shot, let me know in the comments. 💜 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below in case you missed it.😘
Next Chapter
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I Love You, But More Importantly, I Trust You (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Fandom: Marvel, Avengers, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Word Count: 2911 Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Bucky isn't sure what to give you that will adequately express how he really feels. Finally, he decides to give you the one piece of himself he's been hiding all this time... TW: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Past Trauma, Emotional & Physical Scars, Description of Past Injuries, Undressing, Kissing Note: Happy Valentine's Day!!! I thought our favorite traumatized soldier needed some loving today (even if it involves some emotional vulnerability first)
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“Hey, Buck. Are you all ready for tonight?”
Bucky glanced up from the television screen, one eyebrow raised slightly, to stare at his best friend as he walked into the room followed closely by Sam. “What’s tonight?”
“Umm, Valentine’s Day?” Sam said. “Damn, I know you’ve been on ice for the last 70 or so of them, but wasn’t that a thing back in the 40’s?”
Steve chuckled. “It was but back then Bucky…well, let’s just say he didn’t usually keep the same girl around for more than a few dates.”
Sinking into the couch cushion, Bucky muttered, “Steve was the romantic one. I was young and cocky and just looking for a good time, not something serious.”
Sam plopped down on the arm of the couch. “You better not let your girlfriend hear you say that or Tony’ll have to build you a new right arm to match that shiny left one.”
“What I have with her is nothing like those girls in the past!” Bucky snapped, but then his tone softened as he stared down at his hands. “I…I love her.” 
He had first whispered those words to you a few months ago when he asked you to share his quarters in the Tower with him, but it was still strange saying them in front of his friends. Neither of you were big on public displays of affection or grand romantic gestures so Bucky doubted either Steve or Sam realized how deeply he truly cared about you. To them, this might just seem like another fling or someone to keep his bed warm, but in reality, nothing could be farther from the truth.
As if reading his mind, Steve placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. “Well, today’s the day you’re supposed to prove that to her. Why don’t you buy her some flowers, a box of chocolate, a stuffed animal or two, and then take her out for a nice dinner? That’s what most people do. Just show her a good time and then let her know what she means to you. She’ll love it.”
Bucky nodded though he wasn’t so sure. That stuff might be fine for most girls, but you weren’t most girls. Far from it. You were unlike anyone he had ever met before and while he did want to do something special to show you how he felt, he knew fancy food and generic trinkets weren’t the way. He would have to find something else, something you would value more than the crap they were selling at all the local stores. 
And as much as the idea terrified him, he thought he knew just the thing.
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Dragging yourself into your quarters as soon as the Quinjet landed, you flopped back onto the bed and draped your arm across your eyes. You loved your job and couldn’t imagine being anything other than a SHIELD agent, but weeks like this left you considering an early retirement. Globetrotting and tracking down rogue agents on less than a few hours of sleep had been the dream a few years ago. However, as you got older–and now actually had someone waiting for you when you came home–that life was losing some of its appeal.
You had just started to slip into unconsciousness when you heard a shuffling come to a stop at the edge of the room. Without moving your arm from its place over your eyes, you mumbled, “Hey, baby. Sorry I didn’t come find you but you weren’t around when I came in so I thought you might be out. However–” you said with a tired chuckle “–it would seem as though we’re both home.”
“How was it?”
Noting a slight tension in Bucky’s voice, you began to answer his question. “Ugh, just the same old, same old. Fury is all over my ass about this latest intel. I told him I can’t do anything else until he gives me–” 
You fell silent as you raised your head and got your first glimpse of your boyfriend. He was wearing your ratty, faded pink bathrobe that was stretched taut across his muscular shoulders and arms. The bottoms of the robe hung open and loose–revealing a glimpse of his boxers underneath–but at the top across his bare chest, he clutched the robe closed securely as if his life depended on it. His teeth were clenched tightly, his long hair grazing his pronounced jawline as it fell over his face. And even though his eyes were partially obscured and he was avoiding your gaze, it was impossible not to recognize the fear within them.
Sitting up, you softly asked, “Hey, Buck… what’s going on?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” he muttered bluntly as if that explained everything. 
Quietly, you cursed to yourself. You had never given a damn about Valentine’s Day, even as a little kid in school when you were supposed to pass out the cheap cards all the parents bought for everyone in class. And now as an adult, things haven't changed. In fact, until he mentioned it, the significance of the day had completely slipped your mind. But even now that you had been reminded, it didn’t explain why Bucky was wearing your robe.
“I guess it is. Did we…did we have plans? I can’t for the life of me remember us talking about it but you know how I tend to lose track of everything while I’m gone on a mission. I could–Well, it’s kind of late to get a reservation, but we could try to order in?” 
Bucky didn’t respond. Instead, he just continued to stand in the bedroom doorway, the knuckles on his right hand starting to turn white with how tightly he was clutching the sides of the robe shut. 
Afraid he might be having some sort of flashback and unsure of what to do, you slid to the edge of the bed until your feet rested on the floor. “Bucky? Baby, did something happen? Why are you wearing that?”
Taking a long, deep breath, Bucky muttered, “Steve and Sam said on Valentine’s Day people are supposed to give each other flowers and chocolates and crappy stuffed animals to show how much they care about each other. I started to go to the store to get you those things, but thinking about it, nothing felt right. I’m sure you would act like you loved it, but we both know you don’t care about that kind of shit. Plus, none of that would show you how I really feel about you. So, instead, I decided to give you me…All of me.”
As his grip on the robe slowly started to loosen, you inhaled sharply as it hit you what he was planning. Jumping from the bed, you crossed the room in three long strides and placed your hands over his, stopping the robe from falling open. “No, Buck, you don’t have to do that. I mean, it’s incredible that you thought to offer, but I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with just because of the date on the calendar.”
For the first time since you came home, Bucky lifted his head to look you straight in the eye. Fear still radiated from him–causing his blue eyes to seem even brighter than usual–but beyond that was a steely determination that you had only seen in the heat of battle. Gently, he removed your hands from his as he said in a strong, clear voice, “I want to. I love you, doll. And more importantly, I trust you.”
Tears began to blur your vision but you quickly blinked them away. Some people might have been slightly annoyed to hear him put trust over love, but you knew that to Bucky, trust was the most important thing in the world. He had been used, lied to, and betrayed so many times that he hadn’t been sure he could ever fully trust someone again.
He had told you as much just before the two of you had slept together for the first time. However, that night had just seemed like a one-time hook-up after an intense mission so as long as he gave you what you needed, you couldn’t give a fuck whether he trusted you or not. But when one time turned into two which turned into three which eventually turned into feelings developing on both sides, it became more of an issue. And while you knew at this point he trusted you more than almost anyone else, there was still one part of himself he hid from you. 
No one but a select few SHIELD doctors had ever seen the place where Bucky’s shoulder met his metal arm. In the locker rooms before missions, he would disappear into the bathroom stall to change into his uniform. He would join everyone at the pool or the beach but refused to go in the water or get wet enough to cause his shirt to cling tightly to his body. And when the two of you were alone and got intimate, he always left his shirt or jacket on the entire time. 
The only few times he had made an exception to this was after he bought a set of triple-layer blackout curtains for the bedroom, and even then it was a rare occurrence he would strip down completely. When he did, out of respect for him, you tried your best not to let your fingers brush against his shoulder in the darkness, but it had occasionally happened. Even without being able to see it, the feeling of the tough ridge of scar tissue abruptly shifting into cold, smooth metal painted enough of a mental image for you to have a vague idea of what it must be like. 
And you understood why he wanted to keep it hidden from view.
But now Bucky was standing before you in the middle of a fully lit room prepared to bare all. All he had to do was drop the robe.
Taking a step back, you nodded. “If this is what you want—if you think you’re ready to show me— then I’m ready. But, baby, don’t do this unless you are positive you’re not going to regret it.”
The smallest flicker of a smile flashed across Bucky’s face as his fingers tightened around the edges of the robe. “I told you…I trust you.”
And he let your robe drop to the floor.
It took everything in you not to react or burst into tears as you gazed at where his scarred, raised flesh melded into shiny metal. The way the arm was fused into his mangled skin made your stomach churn and bile burn in the back of your throat. But it wasn’t its appearance that made you on the edge of breaking down. No. It was the thought of how much pain and torture HYDRA had put Bucky through to do this. How these visible scars were just the beginning of the damage they inflicted on him and how even though he had broken free of their control, there were just as many scars left behind that you couldn’t see as there were on display before you right now.
Bucky’s eyes were laser-focused on your face, seemingly scanning it for any clue as to what you were thinking. Stepping closer to him once more, you wet your lips before asking, “Can… Can I touch it?” 
He nodded slightly but just before your fingers brushed against the metal, you drew your fingers back. “It won’t hurt you, will it?”
“Sometimes it still hurts,” he admitted, “but not when it’s touched. There’s just some leftover nerve damage that flares up from time to time. Hurts like hell, but even that’s nothing compared to how it was at first.”
He had never mentioned still having pain, but even more than that, he had never talked about the transition period from Bucky Barnes into the Winter Soldier, at least not to you. There was a file somewhere that contained all the information SHIELD had collected on him from various HYDRA bases they had raided as well as a SHIELD interview that had been conducted when Bucky first joined, but out of respect for Bucky, you had never sought it out. 
“You remember that? Wha–what they did to you?”
“I remember every second of it.” The venom in Bucky’s words caught you momentarily off guard, but you understood it wasn’t you that hatred was directed at. “They might have wiped most of my conscious memory, but the process never erased the pain. They didn’t want it to. It was left as a reminder of what they could do and as a promise of what would happen again if I didn’t follow their orders.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Looking at his shoulder again, your own rage bubbled in your chest. “All those bastards who did this to you better be glad they’re dead because if I ever got my hands on them–”
Bucky chuckled softly. “If I remember correctly, you did get your hands on a few of them.”
“Yeah, but that was before I knew what they had done to you. If I had, I would have made them regret every scar and mark they left on your body.” 
But as disgusted as you were at what HYDRA had made Bucky endure, you knew your hatred wasn’t what he needed right now. So, placing one hand on the side of his face, you turned your thoughts to the gift he had given you instead. “But, hey, I know I can’t fix what they did. However, I hope you know seeing this doesn’t change how I feel about you. If anything, it makes me love you more.”
Taking his metal hand, you gently placed a kiss on his cold fingertips. Then you placed another on his knuckles. Then the back of his hand. Then his wrist. 
Slowly, you moved up his arm, peppering soft, feather-like kisses along the way. You knew despite its hard, steely appearance, the vibranium prosthetic was sensitive enough to detect the slightest changes in temperature or the lightest of pressures. And judging by the way Bucky’s eyes flickered closed as he leaned his head back with a peaceful sigh, he could feel each and every one of your kisses. 
You had done this many times before, especially on those nights he was wrestling with his past or consumed with feelings of guilt and remorse. It was always the same: you started at his fingertips and continued until you reached the red star on his shoulder. Each kiss was to remind him you loved him—all of him. 
However, this time, after you kissed the star, you didn’t stop. Bucky’s eyes flew open and his body went rigid as you placed a kiss on the top of his shoulder…one on the silver metal covering his chest…one on the place where skin and metal met. 
You could feel him shaking slightly and you peered up through your lashes to make sure he was still alright. When he caught you staring, he gave you the smallest of nods. With this reassurance, you placed another kiss on his scars and another. You moved diligently from the top of his shoulder down to the very bottom of the metal plating. Once there, you worked your way back up the same path. When you reached the top of his shoulder, you began moving up his neck and then across his jaw.
You only stopped when your lips were hovering a breath above his. Tears were glistening in both of your eyes as you whispered, “I know you thought this would change things or make me feel different about you, and it has.” Bucky’s face crumpled slightly and he tried to pull away, but you held his face firmly in your hand. As you smiled, you continued, “I thought I loved you this morning. But seeing how much I mean to you, how much you truly trust me…I’ve never loved anyone or felt as loved by them as I do right now. This is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you, baby.”
You leaned forward slightly, pressing your lips against his as you tried to put all of your love and gratitude into the kiss so he knew what he meant to you. For just a second, he froze. But then Bucky melted into you as you felt the last of his walls crumble around you. He was standing before you as raw and as vulnerable as a person could be, it was the most breathtaking thing you had ever experienced.
Without breaking the kiss, you took his cold, hard hand in your warm, soft one and blindly began leading him to the bed. Once there, you turned so his back was to the mattress and you pressed forward, forcing him down onto his back. 
Finally breaking the kiss, you climbed onto the bed too, straddling his waist as you placed your hand over the damaged part of his arm he had shared with you. Rolling your hips slightly against his, you purred, “It’s still Valentine’s Day and though I don’t have anything half as special as the gift you gave me, I plan on spending the rest of the night showing you how much I love you.”
In one fluid motion, you removed your shirt and tossed it behind you where it landed on top of the discarded robe. 
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yezzyyae · 3 months
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SYDNEY & CARMY HAVE NOTHING OTHER THAN FOOD IN COMMON! And I’M CHALLENGING A PERSON TO SHOW ME THE SCENE IN THE TWO SEASONS WHERE THEY TALK BOUT ANYTHING OTHER THAN FOOD! IMA PAY $100 TO THAT PERSON!
Sydney & Carmy only have food in common. Sydney didn’t even tell Carmy that her mother was dead smh so how are they these soulmates that’s yall see. I am confused food & past trauma concerning working in tough restaurants is what they have in common. It is nothing else! Sydney & Carmy’s brains are not strong enough to be a couple what would they talk about on their days off, the new menu for “The Bear” like come on.
I wish yall people get in a real life relationship because yall will see that Sydney & Carmy have no “romantic chemistry”! I am a black 35 yr old woman so I am not racist I just know real life & been in a real life love relationship for 6 1/2 yrs. We have many things in common not just 1 things & I don’t talk to my boyfriend about work it’s separate when we are home together. So please tell what do Sydney & Carmy talk about other than “The Bear” please I am dying to know?! I want to know what would Sydney & Carmy talk about after sex other than “umm what should we make for the new menu?” Like be forreal what else do they talk about I must have missed this episode please
And Sydney was not jealous of Carmy & Claire smh she is the only child so when she found somebody who loved food like Carmy she became clingy! Smh yall need to grow up & live in the real world because Carmy & Sydney doesn’t have anything in common but food. If it’s something else they talk about please tell me because Sydney judging Carmy but never admitting her mistakes is annoying enough.
I love the show but if “The Bear” keeps making Sydney out to be this savior who calls Carmy out but never her own weird & clingy & fucked up behavior I will stop watching it. Bad enough they NEVER addressed Sydney’s big mistake from season 1 episode 7 when she literally rushed Carmy into making a “to-go” option & then leaving the “pre-order” option open & then her cringey ass didn’t have a solution when the situation became out of hand she then turned her attention to Richie & threw his daughter in his face saying “even your daughter know you are a loser” then stabbing him 🤦🏾‍♀️like come on then calling Carmy a “shitty” person because he got frustrated then she quit. Like ugh no other boss would have hired Sydney back like in real life what other boss would have. Sydney never can handle pressure unless Carmy is right next to her & she always want him to saying “omg Sydney you are so awesome omg please don’t ever leave this restaurant” foh in season 2 episode 10 Sydney is the CDC right but she argues with Carmy about refiring them cold ass “7 fishes” then she wanting him right by her side the whole night. Man please I am the assistant manager at an Accountant Firm & my boss is not near me allday everyday because I’m his 2nd in command so Sydney please fuck off!
Omggg I hate Sydney shippers! I hate how yall bring race into it if ppl clearly point out all the reasons why they have no romantic chemistry! SMH it’s annoying and if the show ever go that route it will lose alot of fans because it will just be forced. And what will they talk about other than “The Bear” they don’t talk about anything else!
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fluentmoviequoter · 10 months
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Pretty Lies
Pairing: Victor Vale x EO!fem!reader
Summary: As you die, you wish to know to truth: about what your life meant, what happens after death, everything. When you come back, you know when people are lying and when they’re telling the truth. You are a human lie detector, who Victor Vale decides to use to his advantage.
Word Count: 4.8k+ words
Warnings: descriptions of injuries and death (reader is an EO), spoilers for Vicious and Vengeful, takes place after Vengeful but ignores something that happens, EMT codes and medical terminology, OC villains, angst, canon-typical violence, fluff, Victor is Dol's biggest fan. I think that's all?
A/N: I'm desperately searching for an actor/model/anyone that matches my mental image of Victor to make gifs. As I said in the warnings, this takes place after Vengeful but doesn't reference something that Victor does/experiences because I didn't think it was necessary (and it made me sad reading it tbh). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think!🖤
Masterlist Directory | Victor Vale Masterlist | Request Info (OPEN)
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Your heart rate slows to a crawl as your mind races, and questions form in your cerebrum faster than you can process any answers. Asking yourself these questions, you don’t register the sharp pain in your chest or the shortness of your breath.
Why? What was the purpose? What happens next? Did I make an impact?
The last thing you hear before the questions stop is, “Check for pulsus paradoxus; blood pressure unstable! Code 99: W, 902H… 914C, DOA.”
✯✯✯✯✯
As your hearing returns, a steady beeping causes your head to pound. Opening your eyes slowly, you realize you’re in a hospital room.
“Welcome back,” a nurse says as she walks in. “How are you feeling?”
“Not great,” you respond.
“I’ll call the doctor.”
She walks out, and you feel a strange flinching sensation in your right wrist.
“Hello,” the doctor says, introducing himself as he looks at your vitals. “You’re making quite the recovery.”
Another flinch.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asks.
“Umm, I was in an accident,” you answer.
“Yes, you had a fairly severe case of cardiac tamponade; blood gathered around your heart and the pressure caused some problems.”
“My heart stopped?”
The doctor nods. “We performed a thoracotomy, cleared the liquid and brought you back.”
Your wrist flinches again, and you look down, feeling the sensation but seeing no evidence you’re moving.
“There were no complications,” the doctor adds.
Your wrist feels like it contracts quickly, and before you think about it, you say, “That’s not true.”
The doctor swallows, checking your chart and avoiding eye contact as he admits, “The injury that caused the tamponade is fairly hard to correct, at least permanently.”
“You’re saying it could happen again?”
“Yes.”
Flinch. Truth.
“I would encourage you to get a service dog trained to your symptoms and get your heart checked regularly. It may come back, but considering how quickly you recovered, I consider it unlikely.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“Of course. I’ll be in a few more times today, but you should be ready for discharge soon,” he says as he leaves and closes the door behind him.
“That was true,” you mutter, looking down at your wrist. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“How could you possibly know that?” Sydney asks, spinning her cocoa cup as she sits across from Victor.
“Your brain, the medial temporal lobe and the medial and lateral prefrontal cortexes, makes false memories, Syd,” Victor answers, not looking up from his paper.
“But why?”
“That’s a question for a psych major. I was pre-med,” Victor deadpans.
“If the brain makes different memories, though, why do we think some of the false ones are real?”
“Trauma responses?” Victor suggests, sighing as he looks up. “I really don’t know. Deep inside your brain, you know which ones are true, unless you somehow convince yourself which ones are false.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Walking out of the hospital, you hear as many lies as you do truths.
“You’re going to be fine,” someone promises. Lie.
“There isn’t much we can do.” Truth.
“The bathroom is down the hall.” Lie. You look over and see a young boy laugh as another child walks in the opposite direction.
Speeding up, you decide to go somewhere you hopefully won’t hear anyone. While you walk down the street, you see a small coffee shop off by itself. You walk inside and take a deep breath at the lack of people. Only five or six customers occupy the cafe, and only two don't have their noses buried in computer screens. You order a drink and sit in the back corner, lying your head on the table as you enjoy the quiet.
When you pick your head up to take a drink, you feel a weird sense of pain, less painful than nudging, like it’s directing your attention away from something. Even stranger, the pain isn’t real. Turning toward the sensation, you notice a pale man wearing the black clothes and the blonde girl sitting across from him. They could be siblings, but that doesn’t feel true. The girl looks over at you, her eyebrows raising when she sees you looking. She taps the man with her foot, and he glances up before following her gaze, his eyes locking on yours. 
“Can we help you?” he asks, his eyes narrowed as the nudging sensation strengthens slightly.
“No, sorry. I, uh, I thought you were someone else,” you apologize as you turn back to your drink.
“Remember what I said,” the man whispers, sounding much kinder than when he spoke to you.
You ignore them until they leave, but as soon as the man is out of sight of the coffee shop, the patrons begin whispering to one another, truths and lies floating through the air as new life enters the atmosphere. The distraction of pain is gone, too, and you jump out of your seat to follow the man in black.
“Hey!” you yell as you catch up.
He turns around, pushing the girl behind him as he sticks a hand under his jacket.
“Yes?” he asks.
“Was that you? The pain that kept everyone from looking at you?” you ask.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you still have the wrong guy.”
You shake your head as your wrist flinches, barely noticeable, but enough to be sure he’s lying.
“That’s not true.” The girl pokes her head out, and you look at her to ask, “Can you do something, too?”
“No,” she whispers.
“That’s another lie.”
“Look,” he begins, raising a hand toward you.
“No, no, you look. I died yesterday, but now I’m a walking lie detector. So if you can do something too you have to help me,” you ramble, dropping your shoulders as you add, “Please.”
“You know when people are lying?” he asks.
You nod, and he looks at the girl, gesturing his head toward you.
“My name’s Sydney,” she says, standing straight as she steps beside her protector.
You nod and introduce yourself, tapping your hand on your thigh rather than shaking Sydney's hand. Her protector doesn’t seem like he would appreciate the sudden movement.
“This is Frank,” Sydney says.
Shaking your head, you look over at him.
“Lie?”
“Lie.”
“My name’s Victor,” he corrects, extending his hand.
You shake it, scrunching your nose in pain, your chest tightening much like it did yesterday.
“You died very recently,” Victor says. “I can control pain, obviously.”
“What can you do?” you ask Sydney.
“Doesn’t matter,” Victor interjects, looking at Sydney as she steps behind him again. “What kind of help do you want?”
“I’d like to know why I am a human polygraph test now,” you answer with a weak chuckle.
Victor looks around and sighs. “Come with us. Syd, call Mitch and tell him we have company.”
You thank Victor quietly and walk behind him, watching people turn away from him as the same nudging that pulls you to him pushes them away.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Okay,” Victor says, looking at Mitch’s computer. “This says you were gone for nearly two minutes. You were on the brink of brain damage.”
“What caused the bleeding around your heart?” Mitch asks.
“An accident. I don’t remember many details, though,” you answer, fiddling your fingers in your lap.
“What were you thinking about when you died?” Victor asks.
“Umm, there were a lot of questions. Like what would happen after I died and what everything meant. That’s all I remember thinking.”
“Have you heard of the theory of EOs?”
“ExtraOrdinary?” you clarify. “Just what I’ve seen in the papers. The masked vigilante that got arrested? Uh, something Ever, I think.”
Victor clenches his jaw as he nods. “Yeah, he was an EO. Just like me, Sydney, and you.”
“What do you mean, me?”
“EOs are, in the most basic sense, people who died and came back with something extraordinary,” Victor explains. “Unfortunately, something is also missing when we come back.”
“You’re saying that this power, whatever, is because I died? I have to live with this forever?”
“Yes. But, I have an idea, if you’re willing to help.”
“Help how?”
✯✯✯✯✯
“Where is the new EON facility?” Victor growls, wiping a knife on his sleeve as he circles the chair.
“I don’t know!” the man in the chair cries.
You lock eyes with Victor and shake your head; another lie.
“See, you do know and you’re just not willing to share. That’s not very nice,” Victor says, bending forward and placing his hands on his knees to look into the man’s eyes. “Tell me where it is and the pain goes away.”
“You’ll never find it!”
You shrug when Victor looks up at you; it’s not an answer, so it’s relatively true and false at the same time. Schrödinger’s answer.
“Do you want to meet my friend?” Victor asks, a small smile on his face. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Victor walks around the man, leaving him thrashing against the restraints. When Victor reaches you, he looks into your eyes as he speaks.
“Seeing you, knowing that you can tell what’s true and false will make him more aware of how serious this is,” Victor explains. “Are you up to this?”
You nod and follow Victor, similarly dressed in black to hide in the shadows.
“Why don’t you tell her what you told me?” Victor begins. “Where is the EON facility?”
“I don’t know,” the man repeats, staring at you.
“That’s a lie,” you state, setting your hands on Victor’s table of knives as you lean back against it. “Why don’t you tell me something true? No one ever tells the truth anymore.”
“Probably because you’re going to kill them regardless!”
“Is that what he told you?” you ask, cocking your head as you glance at Victor. “No, no, you tell us the truth and we leave. We don’t need you, we just need your information.”
“I’m taking it to the grave.”
“Now that’s true,” you say, smiling. “What about your name? What’s your name?”
“Bradley,” he mumbles.
Victor returns to your side, spinning a knife as he leans against the table beside you.
“In the mood for sharing now?” he asks.
“Not with you,” Bradley snaps.
“Oh, I see. Pretty girl is worthy of the answers, not me. I get it.” He places a hand on Bradley’s shoulder, stooping to whisper in his ear as he walks out. “I think for a moment she is in danger and you will experience pain beyond what you can imagine. Understand?”
Bradley nods as your wrist flinches. Whatever Victor said was true.
“Why are you willing to share with me, Bradley?” you ask once alone. He shrugs, and you ask, “Where is EON?”
“I don’t have an address.” Truth. “All I ever heard was that it is in a building once owned by the government. Somewhere north of town where there’s not much traffic.” Another truth.
“Do you have any idea which building it could be? Or which agency owned it?”
“No.” You tilt your head toward him, and he sighs before asking for paper and a pen. “Just this one,” he says as he writes an address.
“Thank you,” you say as you slip the paper into your pocket.
“What happens now?” Bradley asks.
“We all move on,” you say, smiling at him before walking out.
Your wrist doesn’t contract when you lie, but you and Bradley know that isn’t true.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Good work,” Victor says as he emerges from the building, wiping his hands on his coat.
“Thanks. He gave me this address, but he’s not sure if it is the correct building. All he could say for sure was that the building is somewhere north of town, no traffic around it, and that it used to be owned by the government,” you explain as you walk beside Victor.
Victor nods and takes the paper from you, reading the address before putting it in his pocket. “It’s probably the right place; there aren’t many abandoned government buildings around here. How’d you get him to talk to you?”
“People are less inclined to lie when they know they can’t get away with it,” you answer. “And I’m pretty sure he was just scared of you.”
Victor nods, keeping his eyes on something ahead of you as he shifts you to stand on his other side.
“Would you have killed him if I wasn’t there?” you ask quietly.
“No. I needed the information, I would have found another way to get it,” he answers after taking a few steps in silence. 
Your wrist flinches as you round the corner, Dol greeting you at the door.
“Mitch, we got an address,” Victor says, passing the paper to Mitch. “I need the property records and a list of previous owners.”
Mitch nods and begins typing as Dol rubs his head against your thigh.
“Sydney, does he need a walk?” you ask, laying a hand on Dol’s head.
“No, I took him out this morning,” she answers.
“Can I take him anyways? He seems antsy.”
“Sure,” Sydney answers, smiling at you. “Want me to come with you?”
“No, keep doing whatever it is you do.”
She sticks her tongue out at you, laughing as you return the sentiment while clipping Dol’s leash to his collar. You wave to Victor as you open the door, waiting for him to nod before you leave. Dol leads you down the street, stopping to sniff occasionally before stopping in front of the coffee shop where you met Victor. He growls lowly as his shackles rise, and you look around but don’t see anyone or anything that would cause him to act so differently.
“Dol, what’s up, buddy?” you ask quietly, setting your hand on his back.
He barks in response before pulling you to the corner. When the hospital comes into view, his growling gets louder as he looks between you and the building. You see someone walk out of the hospital with a hood over their head; they stop walking suddenly, and the hood snaps up in your direction like they’re looking at you.
“Dol, run,” you whisper, dropping his leash as you both turn and run toward the door you left just a few minutes ago.
Dol is a few steps ahead when a hand leaps out of an alley and pulls you into the darkness.
✯✯✯✯✯
Victor rolls his eyes when he hears Dol’s incessant barking at the door.
“How many times do I have to tell you to take a key?” he asks as he opens the door, freezing when he sees Dol is alone. He leans down and picks up Dol’s leash, looking into his eyes as he asks, “Where is she?”
Dol doesn’t answer, obviously, but looks behind him, the direction he came from.
“Sydney, did she say where she was going?” Victor asks, closing the door as he pulls Dol inside.
“No, she just offered to take him for a walk. This is bad isn’t it?” she responds, grabbing Dol’s neck as he sits at her side.
“Sydney, remember the promise?”
“No one will hurt me because you’ll hurt them first. Yeah, I remember.”
“I made the same promise to her. I’m going to find her. If I’m not back in twenty minutes, tell Mitch to get you and Dol out of here.”
“We’re not leaving you!”
“And I’m not dragging you down with me,” Victor promises as he walks out the door, his black coat trailing behind him.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Tell him to stop looking for EON,” the hooded figure says, its hand around your neck as you’re pushed against the brick wall in the alley.
“Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, panting as you struggle to breathe.
“You do know! Maybe you can tell when other people are lying, but you’re not a very good liar yourself, are you? How many lies have you let him tell you because you think you’re helping? He killed my brother and now I will kill him.”
You feel a flinch signifying the truth of his statement as you ask, “Why?”
“He’s not good. EON is doing good. Until EOs can be understood, they can’t be trusted. Surely you understand how important trust is.”
The pressure is taken off your neck, and you cough before saying, “Torturing people doesn’t build trust.”
“Is that what he said we do? Victor is many things, and a good liar tops the list.”
“He’s not a liar. You are.”
“Really?” A dark chuckle proceeds the demand, “Ask me to lie.”
“Why?” you ask.
“I am not going to kill you.”
Lie.
“I only want to kill Victor.”
Lie.
“What about… I only want to kill Victor first.”
Truth.
You look up but can’t see anything past the hood. “Why are you doing this?”
“EOs aren’t trustworthy until they prove it. Show where your allegiance lies and maybe I will let you live.”
“You know where my allegiance lies: with the truth, and you will kill me no matter what I do.”
“That’s not true.”
It’s not, you know that, but you trust Victor. Or at least you think you do.
“Trick him into lying and see what your detector says. I’ll give you some time to reconsider.”
You blink, and the hooded figure is gone. Rubbing your neck, you stumble out of the alley and into someone’s arms.
“What happened?” Victor demands.
“Did you kill someone?” you ask, gripping his biceps.
“No. What are you talking about?”
Truth. But you know differently. You release his arms and try to back away from him, but he drops his hands to your waist and holds you firm.
“Let go,” you demand.
“Not until you tell me what happened.”
“There’s people here, Victor.”
“They’re not paying attention to us. Talk.”
You look around and see that no one is looking at you. As usual, no one notices Victor.
“Why do you push people away?”
“To keep the people close to me safe,” he answers.
Truth.
“And why did you let me join you, help you, whatever it is you call my role here?”
“Because I thought your ability would be helpful. And I knew EON was back and wanted to help keep you safe.”
Two truths.
“Fine. Did Dol come back?”
Victor nods and releases you, watching as you walk past him. He clenches his jaw before dialing a random person’s pain up as he follows.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Victor asks, letting himself into your assigned bedroom.
You’re sitting on your bed in the dark, staring out the window as you respond, “No.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you’re lying to me.”
Victor sighs as his leg hits your bed, jostling the mattress slightly as he stands behind you.
“About what?” he asks.
You turn around to face him, looking up into the dark, barely able to make out his face, as you say, “Lie to me.”
“Tell me what happened,” he demands again.
You shake your head and lean back.
“Why is this so important? Don’t you trust me?”
“I did. And I want to. But you’re not making it easy right now.”
Victor sighs and runs his fingers through his pale hair before kneeling by your bed, looking up into your eyes as he offers, “If I lie to you will you tell me what happened?”
You nod as you lean forward, closing some of the distance between you. “But talk to me like you normally talk to me, don’t tell me something that is obviously a lie.”
“I’ve never killed anyone,” he says.
Truth.
“How do you do that?” you whisper. “I know you’re lying but my body still tells me it’s true.”
“Have I ever triggered a lie response?”
“Once. When we first met you said you didn’t know what I was talking about and that I had the wrong guy. But everything since then has been true, or so I thought.”
“My turn,” Victor says, cutting you off as he stands. “Tell me what happened in that alley.”
You take a deep breath and scoot back, allowing Victor to perch on the edge of the bed. “I was walking Dol and he stopped suddenly and started growling. His shackles raised, too. We were in front of a coffee shop, the one where you and I met.” You look down at your lap as you try to remember every detail of what happened next. “Then he led me to the corner, where you can see the hospital, and someone in a hood came out and looked toward us. I let go of Dol’s leash while we ran but I got pulled into an alley.”
“By the hooded… figure?” Victor asks.
You nod and continue, “Whoever, or whatever it was, told me to tell you to stop looking for EON. They knew your name, too, and said that I let you lie to me because I thought I was doing good.”
“What else did they say about EON?”
“That they were building trust with EOs, that until they could be understood they couldn’t be trusted.”
“Anything else? Did you see or hear anything that could tell us more?”
“They said they want to kill you.” You pick at the comforter as you add, “And me, if I don’t reconsider and show my allegiance is with them.”
Victor stands suddenly and turns the light on. 
You close your eyes tightly at the sudden brightness before asking, “What are you doing?”
He places a finger under your chin, raising your face toward him as he looks at your neck. His jaw clenches before he pulls his hand away.
“What?” you repeat.
“You didn’t say they touched you.”
“Obviously they touched me, Victor, they’re bad- wait, you killed the brother,” you say, remembering what else the hooded person said about Victor. “They said, ‘He killed my brother and now I will kill him.’”
“Bradley,” you and Victor say together.
“You lied to me,” you accuse quietly.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“How do I know you’re not still lying?”
“Because I can lie to you, I just also know how to manipulate the truth. Yes, I killed Bradley.”
Truth.
“And I killed my friend Angie, and I killed several other people.”
Truth.
“And I will kill you if I have to.”
Lie.
You look into Victor’s eyes, and he shakes his head. “I can lie to you and get away with it, but only if I think it’s protecting you. I don’t know why it works. Maybe it’s just because I care about you.”
Truth.
“We need to find Bradley’s brother,” you say, standing and following Victor down the hall. “Victor.” You grab his arm to stop him, facing each other in the dark as you whisper, “I care about you too. Thank you for telling me the truth… and for lying to me.”
Victor smiles, just a flash in the darkness, before pulling you into the living room and opening Mitch’s laptop.
✯✯✯✯✯
“You reconsidered?” 
“I did… Jake. But I didn’t change my mind,” you answer, crossing your arms as Victor walks in behind you, a shadow visible for only a second as he melts into the darkness.
“I will avenge my brother,” Jake vows as he removes his hood.
“Dying at the hands of your brother-in-law must have been embarrassing,” Victor taunts from the dark. “I can’t imagine what kind of power you received to deal with something like that.”
“Come out and see,” Jake calls.
“I actually do most of the bidding,” you interject with a smile. “Easier to determine who’s worth the time when you know if they’re lying.”
“And is he lying to you?”
“He was. You were right.”
“Then why are you still helping him?”
“Because you lied too.” You stick your hands in your coat pocket as you walk toward Jake. “EON does torture EOs, and when they get tired of the EOs or deem their powers useless, they kill them. That’s not building trust, that’s genocide.”
“And your little shadow boyfriend killing everyone he can get his hands on isn’t?”
“He doesn’t kill everyone,” you argue. “But tell me, have you ever killed anyone?”
“Of course not, I’m not a monster.”
“Oh,” you sigh, clicking your tongue. “See, the bad thing about a half-truth, is it’s also a half-lie. Killing your wife accidentally is still killing your wife, Jake.”
Jake lunges toward you before Victor drops him, creating enough pain that he curls in on himself. You step over him, looking toward Victor as you continue talking.
“One more question. What did Haverty promise you before he died?”
Victor eases the pain, his eyes on Jake as he stands and turns to you.
“Nothing.”
“That’s a lie, Jake. We feel the same way about lies, don’t you think? Be considerate and tell me the truth or you’ll learn just how convincing Victor’s power can be.”
“Doesn’t old Victor back there have to see someone to use his power?” Jake asks, smirking at you.
“I see you talked to Eli,” Victor calls. “What Eli wasn’t around to find out is that once the initial connection is made, the power works a little differently.”
“Just tell us what we need to know, Jake, and no one else needs to get hurt.”
“Or you could just make yourself invisible because that’s how you feel, right?” Victor taunts.
Jake rushes into the shadows, and you look down at your wrist as you tap the heel of one shoe against the toe of the other. Victor emerges a moment later, dragging a nearly unconscious, half-invisible Jake back to you.
You squat beside him and whisper, “I really am sorry about Bradley, I know what it’s like to lose someone. But you were going to lose him anyway. Just tell us what Haverty promised you and who you were working with.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jake groans.
Truth. You look up at Victor with wide eyes.
“Why doesn’t it matter?” you ask.
“She’s dead. And everything I earned is gone.”
“Marcella?” Victor asks.
Jake nods, and Victor gestures for you to stand beside him.
“Run, Jake, and stay away from EON,” Victor says.
You watch as Jake disappears.
“Is this fight ever going to end?” you ask.
“Not likely,” Victor answers.
“Who killed Marcella?”
“Eli.”
“And then you killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Victor,” you say, drawing his eyes to yours. You smile and say, “No, you didn’t.”
Victor opens his mouth to argue, but you turn and walk away, calling, “Sydney is a better sharer than you.”
Victor rolls his eyes before catching up with you.
✯✯✯✯✯
“You’ll never figure all of them out,” Victor says, dragging a Sharpie across the first page of his parents’ newest book.
“Sydney, help me out?” you ask.
“Dol, don’t let Sydney help,” Victor adds.
“Okay, so saying you’d kill me is a lie,” you muse aloud.
“You said you’d kill her?” Mitch asks, looking up from his computer.
“She told me to lie,” Victor answers with a shrug.
“Someone else tell me something,” you request, turning away from Victor.
“Dol is ugly!” Sydney says, complying with your request.
“Don’t listen, buddy, you’re the most handsome guy here,” Victor whispers, setting the marker aside to pat Dol’s head.
“Obviously a lie, c’mon, Syd,” you chide playfully.
“Dol likes Vic just as much as he likes Sydney,” Mitch adds.
“That… you think it’s true, at least,” you determine.
“And why wouldn’t you?” Victor asks Dol. “We’re both amazing, aren’t we?”
“Try to trick me,” you demand.
Sydney says something, but your wrist flinches before she finishes, the sound of Victor’s marker drowning her out. The same as when he whispered to Bradley. You turn to face him, and he raises his eyebrows as you take his marker.
“Did you just say something?” you ask.
He shrugs and looks back to the page. You glance down and find the few words still visible: 
Tumblr media
“What did you tell Bradley when you left me alone with him?” you whisper.
“That I’d hurt him if I thought you were in danger.”
“And what did you say just now?”
“You read it.”
“Do you mean it?”
“I meant them both, and I still do. I won’t let anyone hurt you because I’ll hurt them first. I let you stay because I care about you but it grew from there.”
“Finally,” Sydney says behind you.
Your wrist flinches as Victor rolls his eyes at her.
“You love me? I love you.”
Victor smiles. Not the smile he smiles before he lies, but a genuine smile. “That’s good to hear.”
“Good indeed, now stop making us uncomfortable,” Mitch says as he sits beside Sydney.
Dol barks as Sydney argues that you and Victor are cute together.
Your wrist flinches with every comment, especially when Victor whispers, “I’ve loved you since you accused me of lying the first time we met. Even though you lied to me, too.”
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Text
Once Upon a Time on The Razor Crest
Summary: You and Din come to an agreement
A/N: Hello lovelies,
Another Friday, another part to the OUATOTRC. I do apologize if the chapters appear short, but with the crazy schedule for work, looking after my mom, I'd rather give short chapters than no chapters at all.
However, I am almost done the next section of Gym Membership, once it's completed I will be able to upload it, for you all. It'll be focusing on Crosshair.
I hope you all have a lovely weekend.
Love oo.
Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.
Warning: mentions of past trauma, discussions of children, truth test, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.
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THE RAZOR CREST SEVEN
CHAPTER FIVE
There was no going back now that Din opened his mouth, “Why don’t we try it out for three months. Three months with no commitment or expectations. At the end, if either of us feel uncomfortable or we realize it’s not working, we move on. No harm done.”
“Really?” I couldn’t help the smile that broke out across my face.
“Yeah” he chuckled, matching my smile. “However there is still one hurdle you have to cross, and if you fail that, there’s nothing I can do. Fair?”
“Understood. What’s the final hurdle?”
“Oh well that’s for me to know and for you to find out. In the meantime, I’ll let you know our daily routine. We start every day at 5:30 a.m., no exceptions. My son has to be up that early for me to get him ready, fed, and off to school.”
“Even on the weekends?”
“Even on the weekends.”
“How old is your son?”
“Six”
“Grade One, right?”
“Yeah, you have kids?” Din tilted his head at the woman who surprised him.
“No”
“You good with kids?”
“Haven’t really been around them much” the experience I did have couldn’t even really amount to experience. My hand itched to rub my womb, the past making another appearance in my mind. Stop it. Focus.
Din simply nodded, it was a fair and honest answer, again she surprised him, “Lunch is usually around noon or one or sometimes not at all, depending on what I’m doing and where I am. Grogu usually gets home by four, we tend to eat dinner by six, and he’s promptly in bed by eight or nine, on the weekends I’ll let him stay up till about ten.”
“Understood”
“It’s a bit strict the timing, but I find it works best for him. He’s a bit of a hyper kid, always trying to get into trouble.”
Huh, that was different from what Cobb said, but then it wasn’t my place to say anything, “I get it, I was like that as a kid”
“Tell me something about yourself, if you’re going to be staying here, I would like to at least known something about the woman who will be looking after my son”
Made sense, as much as I didn’t want to reveal too much about my past and about myself in general, Din strangely made me feel safe. It was such an odd feeling, but a welcome one. 
“Umm… not much to tell, I’m 30. Single, obviously. Grew up on Saleucami, and just started moving around, basically that’s it.” To a degree what I said was true, certainly not gonna tell him what my name really was, that was more for his and his son’s safety.
“Where in Saleucami? My brother use to be stationed there”
“Oh nice, I lived closer to the mountainous regions of Saleucami”
“I think that’s where my brother was, he always mentioned a burger joint that was out there, that only the locals know”
“Eopie Burger” I responded, nodding my head.
“Yeah, pretty decent burgers he said”
“That is if you’ve never been to BurgerNuna. Awesome burgers, but then you also have Hamburger Nexu, those guys know how to layer. Anything else you want to test me on?” I smirked, I had a lot of fond memories of Saleucami; at least that was before I ended up on Coruscant and the nightmare my life turned into shortly after. 
“You catch on quick, gotta respect you for that” Din couldn’t help smirk at her, he didn’t think a city brat would’ve caught on to his test, but she saw right through his question. He had to hand it to her, she was starting to grow on him. 
I could understand why Din was being cautious, “Hey I get it, you have a six-year-old, I’m a stranger who walked in off the street with no credentials, no background, and you’re supposed to take my word for it. I would be cautious too.”
“Thanks.” Din took a moment to decide if he was going to go through with this, he didn’t get any sort of evil intentions coming from her, and Vanth would never allow anyone who could be a danger to eitherof them to come to his home, “Alright I guess I should show you to the room we prepared for whoever was going to take the job. It’s down here on the main floor. Family rooms are upstairs. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, totally get it.” 
Din stood motioning for her to follow him. He didn’t believe a single thing she told him, but she was genuine about being from Saleucami, or at the very least was genuine about living there. He’d have to talk to Vanth later about who this woman truly was; he had a feeling she was one of Cobb’s special people, he pushed it to the back of his mind. 
The entrance to her room was just off the main hallway that connected to the foyer, “It’s just back here, the room isn’t overly furnished or anything, just basics,” Din opened the door turning on the light, “My brother stays here from time to time, so if you do find something … unsavoury, I apologize. I did clean it from top to bottom, but you know sometimes things get missed.”
I looked around the room, it was cozy, like he said it wasn’t overly furnished, but cozy. The fireplace was covered in white brick on the south wall, the window on the west side of the room was wide enough that you could sit and read on it if you wanted to, but it was in need of a cushion or something. There was a desk in the corner with a landline communicator, the bed on the opposite side of the fireplace was a nice full sized bed. The walls were a soft comforting grey colour with an accented yellow wall. 
The room was so different from all the cramped and shared spaces I’d been living in the past few years. It brought a tear to my eye.
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geteffed · 9 months
Note
rick headcanons?
SHDHAHSJDA AAAAAA yes okay let me smoke first
Alright I just smoked.
So, this is gonna be long and scrambled but here we go
Rick definitely loves morty a lot but refuses to admit it to himself because what is love yknow? You have so much love for one person (Diane) and then you don’t really feel the same type of love for anyone else. He loves Morty and Beth (his favorite relatives) a whole lot but not in the same way. Even Beth and Space Beth are loved and admired in different ways guys he just loves his family okay. He even cares for Jerry. Like okay rant right here umm TW emotions but I love my dad right and he loves my uncle but I don’t really no my uncle so I can’t say I really love him. I care about him. Idk if it’s love for sure
Okay rant over
Um also this one is like… tmi so I won’t stay on it long but in a world where beth looked exactly like Diane…. Yeaaaaaaaah that’s more of an intrusive headcanon I’m sorry to fuck y’all’s eyes up
And also HES IN LOVE WITH BIRDPERSON LIKE BACK ON THE DIANE TOPIC I think he loved Diane in the way that you would want to spend the rest of your life with them and he loved birdperson in a similar perspective to that but he loved birdperson in the ride or die way. Like, 50/50 everything on the table, trauma bonded stoner husbands (omg shoutout to Cade + his husband who don’t know I use tumblr) like their relationship is literally rick/birdperson wish you guys knew them.
Um yeah so he loved birdperson but not the same way as Diane like, I would be explaining this with percentages but 1. I’m so fucking stoned rn and 2. You can’t measure a nonexistent thing in percentages. Love is a concept, love mean something different to everyone and it really can’t be calculated… I think I might be demisexual wow okay breakthrough
I feel weird about that one paragraph now wow whatever y’all don’t think about it too hard. Open your minds to concepts even if they are fucked up. It’s so fun to think about but it gets sad when it’s reality idk don’t cancel me? Or do. Cowards.
Also. He invents things for his grandkids to show love. Like, sometimes I wish I could build a robot to help my dad because damn I want him to get helped but also ummm also um fuck what was I— OH YEAH I WANT HIM HELPED BUT I realllllyyyyy don’t feeling like being in his presence yknow I don’t really wanna have a “dad” conversation rn
Wow I’m talking a lot about my own life. Okay spoiler alert I have a dad and a brother and both of them suck.
But yeah I’m out of thoughts and I’m gonna smoke more now
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Last Names
A Malcolm Bright x Reader
What could go wrong at a dinner with a nosy mom?
Chapter 3, Part 3- Disaster Dinner
Suddenly I was in a gorgeous dining room, I was stunned until Malcolm pulled my chair out for me. I quickly sat down and thanked him awkwardly, not being used to such gentle men like actions. Lets just say I haven’t been on a date since I was 17 and now I’m 25, not that this is a date of course. The first few minutes of dinner was quiet as everyone slowly nibbled on the roasted ham that was being served. Slowly things started to dissolve into an argument between Malcolm and his mother. Arguing about how he saw his dad in prison to solve the previous case. I just sat quietly as they continued to argue about this topic. I could see where she was coming from but I definitely can see where he is coming from. Ainsley looks at me and rolls her eyes, “Guys why don’t we argue about Malcolms poor decision making later when we don’t have a guest.”
“Your right Ainsley even though Malcolms actions were totally reckless, Y/N I heard you and Malcolm work together, both profilers I believe?” She questioned. 
“Oh yeah I am a profiler, I have been for a good eight years I believe.” I answered 
“Oh wow, umm what a young age to start in such a gruesome job.” She looked at me strangely. 
“Yeah, I graduated college young so I decided just not to wait to pursue my dreams.” I responded as she nodded her head. Slowly we all finished eating and Malcolm and I were preparing to leave. 
“Hey Malcolm, can you come help me with something upstairs?” Ainsley asked.
“Oh yeah sure, Y/N I will be right back.” He said as I nodded. I watched as they headed upstairs as I stood there awkwardly. His mom looked at me as if she was examining me. 
“I know who you are Y/N.” She said blatantly, my eyes widened in shock as I was taken aback.
“Excuse me?” I questioned.
“You are Y/N Scott, daughter of the serial killer duo and experimental child abusers.” She stated as my breathing started to hitch and speed up.
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” I lied. 
“Stop with your lies, I can see right through you. This is what's going to happen: stay away from my son. He does not need any more dark things in his life. Let alone a whole trauma basket case, or else I will tell him.” My mouth opened but nothing came out. I heard Malcolm walking down the stairs.
“Alright let's get going,'' he stated. He quickly hugged his mother and opened the door for me. I was speechless, blinking away tears trying to hold myself together. I slowly walked out the door and down the steps.
“Hey, whatever my mom said to you, just ignore her, she can be very intense sometimes.” He looked at my eyes with pure care. I nodded slowly as he opened the passenger door for me as I slid in. Almost the whole car ride was quiet which I was grateful for because my voice would have broken if I said anything. As he pulled up to my apartment and parked his car, he looked at me. “What did she say?” He looked concerned.
“Nothing, nothing at all.” I nodded, blinking back tears. I quickly opened the car door and got out.
“Have a goodnight Malcolm, thanks for everything.” I closed the door before he could say anything and ran up to my front door. Quickly opening it and closing it to hide myself as I crumbled. 
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vonkarma2 · 1 year
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18 + 19 + 28 -> for ocs of your choice if you’re still doing it
these questions would be super easy if provided an oc but I’m incapable of picking one I’m actually dying. ok whatever ⬅️quotes from me that I typed out several weeks ago back then this was first asked. sorry 
a memory that still makes your OC angry?
So this was difficult because like. Any specific memory I know a character has, especially one that still emotionally affects them to this day, is probably important to their backstory and as such I’ve definitely talked about it before at length so I don’t want to go over it again yk? So that leaves me with the other option of making shit up specifically for this ask game ok umm
I think the characters most driven by anger are Angel, Gloria, and Silence so I think. I’ll cover all of them very vaguely and not really answer the question because it’s hard aha so basically.
Growing up alongside other children, who typically did not like him for reasons justified and not, Angel has a lot of memories that make him furious to think about, like since the house staff didn’t really like him either they’d sometimes side against him for things that weren’t his fault. He doesn’t think about it often but whenever he does it still makes him mad to this day. He thinks it’s wrong to be like biased against a child but he 
Something that makes Gloria kinda a contrast to Rocio and Angel as characters is that she does have a lot of like, experience in life for lack of a better word. She’s been around the world, she’s met and had some various types of relationships with other people, even though they were mostly very shallow, had a lot of different types of life experiences and viewed that as like, how her life was from then on. Except no she didn’t, because the whole time she was tied down to the past like mentally? I was going to say she’s probably had some experiences during her travels that she gets mad to think about but honestly I don’t think she does— these days she’s really good at just letting things go because she doesn’t get too attached to anything in the first place, so even if people have betrayed her or tried to kill her or some shit like that, it wouldn’t make her angry to think about. It’s like she always feels like she’s in search of something or running away from something because she’s still mad abt her childhood and feels like she hasn’t resolved her problems with it or confronted the issue in any meaningful way, so it stays with her yk? Most of what makes her actually genuinely mad is like. Following childhood trauma being raised by someone who didn’t seem to have any compassion for or understanding of you at all. 
Silence lived in an environment kind of similar to Angel’s in that it was ran by like strict guardians who emphasized morality but it was like. A wider and pretty isolated community. So she felt like that was what the entire world was like, like she was basically trapped with everyone, and since the society encouraged emotional repression, she never saw anyone else displaying like the same dissatisfaction she felt so as far as she knew everyone was all the same. Started to like hate everyone she knew including herself and view people as fundamentally evil. (That’s part of why when meeting Cirillo she liked him so much like he was genuinely trying to be understanding. She thought he had an ulterior motive at first but since he didn’t have or want any power over anyone she eventually like warmed up to him yk.) She has a lot of bad memories of being punished or like shamed for getting mad and like raising her voice and things like that.
a memory that still makes your OC sad?
You know what’s interesting about sadness is that typically it doesn’t drive you to act so much as like anger or fear do, more so it drives you to like not act. Like to just give up and let things happen to you, yk, like be apathetic and stop caring. So it’s not as much of a motivating force as much as it is a hamper to your motivation. That’s not related to the question  but it’s interesting 2 me. Anyway.
I think the character who feels the most regret about their past has to be Cirillo, but Ive already talked about him a lot and Jacinto is similar so I think I’ll talk about them instead. God they’re so hard to write I’m going to lose it I have to change something about their character. Them and Gloria I think could do with more focus/nuance, like more specific plot events to work with. But like anyway, I think a lot of memories, even ones they like thinking of in the moment, end up making them feel sad in the long run because they are pretty stuck in the past— the more they think of good memories with like their brother or their best friend, the more they feel like their life is basically over. That’s pretty dark I feel so bad about it I’m sorry 😞😞😞 they pretty much didn’t do anything wrong. I guess on the bright side, though thinking about older memories makes them feel like their life is empty Now, and they definitely are aware they’ve made mistakes in the past, it does make them feel like they have contributed something to the world in the past? Like their life overall had some meaning and so that helps them feel a bit more at peace I guess. It makes them feel sad, for sure, but in a bittersweet way yk. 
is your OC a dog or cat person?
dog: rocio (only like hunting/working dogs), cirillo, gloria (only the cool ones, but the criteria for what makes dogs qualify as such is unclear and constantly changing. it’s pretty much whether she vibes with the specific individual dog immediately or not), tiago (I think he’d be the type to feed stray dogs whenever he sees them), jacinto (appreciates how theyre more straightforward to take care of, and more outwardly energetic and affectionate usually), joanna, joseph (thinks they are fun to play with)
cat: angel (likes both, prefers cats very narrowly. probably the place he grew up had a couple cats living in the building. also probably would have seen some stray dogs in the area though), laura, lucia, victor (actively dislikes dogs, scared of larger ones and annoyed by smaller ones)
^these aren’t all the characters ofc but I’m not doing everyone because the list got too long. can’t be bothered to try to remember every character there’s like 15 of them what am I Einstein 🙄
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dogthorcesschet · 1 year
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04.25.2023
It’s just a few minutes past 12 am, and I meant to write about this on the 24th, which I think is “today” so I’ll be talking as if it is still the 24th.
Yesterday, on the 23rd, just after I wrote my last journal about healing from my heart ache with ******an, I had this HUGE urge to communicate with him. And it reaaalllly was unbearable and I just couldn’t hold myself from not talking to him. So I wrote this message to him and before pressing send on the text I was so nervous about whether he blocked me or if he kept me in his contacts. And so when I pressed send, it didn’t show delivered or anything at all. And it made me assume that he had already blocked me. It obviously disappointed me.. And another thought came and it really pressured me to contact him on Facebook so after going back and forth with myself I finally hit send. Again. And I was so nervous, still crying from while I was writing it.. And here’s what I wrote:
Hey.. umm.. I just wanted to say, I’m sorry for what I said to you last. I was just hurt. And I didn’t know how to express my hurt. I really don’t have any other words to explain myself. But I just wanted to let you know that I’ve finally decided to be mature and tell you that I still love you. And I know it’s probably stupid that I am since we’ve only known each other for such a short time. But there was so much to love about you Jonathan. It’s kind of hard to be so observant and yet be so dumb at the same time.. I love that you’re doing the best you can at everything.. being a father separated from your child’s mother, being a good son even after all the trauma both your parents left you, being there for your sister and supporting her with all of her decisions, a good friend to your friends even after all their unnecessary pressure on you.. and not only that you even go out of your way to serve the people you’re committing yourself to be loyal to with your life to a point that you’re risking it, from the security job you had to being an infantry man… I hope you can see why it’s so hard not to love you. I know I sound like a super head over heels weirdo, I just felt like I needed to tell you… and I’m really hoping you hate me enough so you won’t have to see this or yet be so happy you won’t reply to this. But I just can’t keep avoiding this pain of not being with you and beating myself up for have having a wishful thinking that we could be together. It’s okay that you don’t love me back. I’m finally okay with letting you go. Because you deserve to be happy and I can’t say I love you if I was holding you back from being that. You’ll always have that mark in my heart. After dating all kinds of guys, even with the unraveled mystery I had with Jaime, you were the one who showed me I can love again. And I can only thank you for that. No matter the pain it caused me after. I hope you’re happy. With love, Joy
Only a few minutes later, as I was sitting in the dark thinking where and if I still had any photos of us and of him left anywhere in my accounts, I received a message from him. 
He said he missed me. And I cried even more because even though I told him that I its okay if he doesn’t reply, I still sincerely wanted to hear from him again and come back. But I really wasn’t expecting for him to come back. I wasn’t expecting anything at all. I think I’ve come in terms to just let him drive and I, sit and watch him as he does. Not worrying about where the road will lead us, but enjoying the fact that I had these moments with him and that watching him go do his thing is enough for me to say I’m proud of myself for loving him. I finally felt like whatever everyone else in my surroundings used to tell me about he and I not being good for each other doesn’t matter to me anymore. That it’s what I want and what I feel and what I see. And I guess that’s what love is all about. Not caring about what others say, because in the end loving someone is the reflection of what YOU’VE wanted for YOURSELF all your life. I’ve felt this way once before. And I took it lightly. I didn’t know what love was or what it meant, but I was in it. I felt it all. The pain, the going back and forth and I always ran when it came to the hardships. But this time, since we talked it out and decided to communicate our love for each other, I don’t think I’ll be running anymore. I’ll be here. Hurt may come, and I’m pretty sure there will be times when they will, but I know I’m more assured of myself and what my feelings are to know I’ll be sticking around. And well, I hope it’s the same for him. 
So when we spoke, we finally told each other the things that we’ve never really told each other before. He said that he was afraid to “hit me [back] up” because of the things I’ve said to him. And I don’t blame him. I can be really hurtful. My words can become sharp. Because they’re said with passion. I can be a bit extreme. And just like my moods, they’re extremely high and extremely low. Because it literally takes 4 fouls and I’m out. So my words can be really loving, or they can be really hurtful. But I don’t think I’ve ever hated him. No matter how much I tried. I couldn’t. I know I didn’t hate him because it hurt me when I’d sing my hurt and low songs that are meant for him because of how they remind me of him. But I apologized to him. And told him that I only said those things because I was hurt and I didn’t know how to express myself better. He told me he was sorry for the pain he’s caused me and I told him that it was okay because I don’t think that they were intentional. And right now I wanna keep talking about what had happened in that conversation, but I can’t help but think about our past memories together. And I can’t say this enough, but they were beautiful. He isn’t as bad as I’ve told my friends he was. And I don’t think I even started telling them anything bad! I literally showed them our beautiful messages and how I’m so deeply in love and they gave me these really bizarre ideas and thoughts like “oh he sounds so dry” when in actuality, he’s a busy fucking guy. Or maybe he just doesn’t communicate well through text. Some people are THE worst communicators through writing out their thoughts and ideas, but when they speak, GOOD HEAVENS, their knowledge is so high and their IQ level, is much higher than those who actually took the damn test. And I see that in him. It’s not because I’m delusional, or I’m having these fantasies about who he is. It’s because it’s who he ACTUALLY is. It’s only the future that I’ve fantasized. I know him because I pay attention to the small details. There is a lot more going on than what a person is saying. And I’ve seen it all with him. I don’t make assumptions about people, I never did. That’s why it’s so easy to get along with me. Because I actually take my time to get to know everyone. I know that they’ve all got their stories to be told. And I’m just open to hear them. And I can tell you, I know him. I know that he’s still got a lot to unload. At first, his ring. And you know what, it’ll only hurt him more if he won’t tell me the truth. So yeah, I’ll give him that space to think about his actions. But it won’t change my feelings for him. It does anger me, but it’s something I’ll have to patiently wait for him to be ready and tell me what it’s really about. I’ve learned this way of showing my love for someone because of him. Once, I found out that he was snorting coke and I was upset about it and I didn’t realize how hurt it made him feel. I asked him why he had to hide it from me, and it was because he was ashamed about it. So now, I’ll just have to wait for him to be ready and tell me. And be prepared of how I’ll react to it. I’m telling you now though, I’ll love him no matter what. And I’ll show him exactly that. My love, care, and feelings for him won’t change. 
Anyways, he called me through a video chat on Facebook and I was so ashamed of him seeing me cry. I hid and cracked a laugh. It was more like a giggle, I sounded like a hyena. lol. But really, I couldn’t even get myself to cry in front of him. I was so shy. And that right there shows that I still don’t show my all to him, as he doesn’t as well. YET. But see, we’re learning to know each other’s language/lingo. 
Then I fell asleep, and missed my class for painting. Like I overslept so bad, I was like two hours late to class. Class was at 9, I woke up at 11. There was no point of me heading there just to be there for just an hour. But now that I think of it, I think it would have been worth showing up anyways. Another lesson learned. When I woke up I texted him good morning, and didn’t get a response until the end of the day but it’s okay. It’s Monday, and he’s in the military. Hello,?. But I had a good day. I took Stanley to the park, and he was so happy. It made me happy. We took pictures because I wanted to record every moment I had with him and see his beautiful smile, enjoying his day at the park with nature and all the socializing he’s doing with other dogs. And when I got home, my brother had a story time with me and my mom about his job and all the dumb calls he got. He was telling them as a joke. And though at the time he really must have had a tough time about doing them, he was finally venting about them. And as I laughed about his stories, since I have such a dark humor, it made him feel lighter. I know because he was comfortable enough to grab a beer and talk some more about them at 11 in the morning. I’m sure there was some pain hidden in some of those stories, but I laughed at them. He was venting. And it wasn’t like I was laughing at the pain, but about how stupid life was that it causes pain. I’m laughing because the pain that the dark forces are trying to inject in us doesn’t work, because God’s perfect love is much greater that we laugh about these little things called pain. It may sound crazy, but it makes perfect sense to me. And if my laughter can boost my brother’s confidence to share his depressing stories, and let it become a humor we can just have for a brief second, then I’ll freely express my cray cray. 
Tito Rigo:: ULOL ka nga talaga inchet.
Me:: only fools rush in, right Tito?
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When was the last time you swam in a pool? 🏊‍♀️ a few years ago (pre COVID) at Hershey Park Water Park with my fiance. wayyy overdue to go swimming this summer
Would you rather have an indoor pool or outdoor pool? doesn’t really matter to me
What was the last thing you said out loud? “oh my gooooodddddddd” bitching at my computer trying to get music playing to start this lmao 
Do you think you could ever be an opera singer? hell no!
How often do you eat bread? 🥖 I’m Italian/Irish mostly so it’s most of my diet lol I’d say maybe 3-4 times a week given we get subs and burgers a lot
When was the last time you looked in the mirror and thought you looked pale? I’m ALWAYS pale, not just the Irish in me but  I’m barely ever outside due mostly to debilitating illnesses making it hard to physically function for long on my feet for years now so...yeah
Have you ever wanted to be a nurse? 👩‍⚕️ not a nurse no but I did wanna be a vet for a long time as a kid so basically yeah just for animals instead
Would you ever want to be a nurse? Why or why not? no, I live in and out of hospitals I always have and I’d never be able to handle the trauma and mental/emotional hell...
Who or what do you worship? I don’t worship anything, I have my beliefs but I’m not religious
What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? ha seriously? what DON’T they? umm but for a lighter note of being made fun of, messing with one another between a friend and I on FB vid last week
Do you own a mini sewing kit that you use for altering clothing? 🧵 no my fiance’s parents are the sewers lol 
Do you know a Ted? I have in the past but not currently no
Do you own a beret? 👩‍🎨 no
When was the last time you wore a beret? when I was real young in gymnastics for a performance
What is one thing you have found to be a bore? my every day which is stuck home couch ridden alone stuck to my own devices, especially with my fiance being gone for work all the time
Where do you keep your out-of-season clothes? I don’t own many clothes, so I don’t have “seasons” 
If you had to pick your top three favorite colors, what would they be? black, blue, beige/tan
How many inches do you normally have to hem up your pants? 👖 please I’ve never needed to, pants have always been mostly “floods” on me cause of my height and long legs lmao
What are three things you would buy if you were rich? 🤑 our own house, my own car (nothing flashy), lots of pets
How many times in your life have you been stung by a bee or a wasp? 🐝 never thank god and I don’t plan on it! knowing my luck that’ll be the only thing I’m actually allergic to on top of it hurting like all hell
Have you ever swam in one of the Great Lakes? nope would love to though
….and if so, how many of the Great Lakes have you swam in? –
Do you believe in the devil? 👹 yeah? look around, how could you not??
What is one thing you wish were more easily accessible? mental health care/treatment
Do you enjoy playing icebreaker games when you’re in a group of people you just met? ummm not sure I’ve ever really played any, but I’d like to since I’m very socially anxious so it’d help me relax a bit
What is your favorite icebreaker game? –
What is one thing you find serene? standing on the beach at the Highlands in NJ where we spread Mimi’s ashes...I try to go every anniversary of her death and I always feel her there so strong and I can actually just breathe and relax...
Have you ever chopped something with an axe? 🪓 no and I’d probably fail miserably lol
What is your favorite genre of music? I love most anything
What is one thing you like that tastes sour? I mean I can suck on a lemon or lime no problem without cringing? then again I’m an alcoholic so that’s probably why I got used to it from garnishes lol
Do you think “Sour Patch Kids” sounds too much like “Cabbage Patch Kids”? I guess lol never really thought about it 
Did you ever own a Cabbage Patch doll when you were a kid? umm I could swear Mimi got me one when I was a baby from what I was told but I don’t remember it
Do you like the candy Sour Patch Kids? yeah they’re delicious and now I want some dammit! 
What was the last song you listened to on repeat? Nutshell by Alice In Chains....
What is one mistake you’ve made that you hope to never repeat? pretty much my entire life, swear to god...
What was the last thing you baked in the oven? pssh me bake? XD
Have you ever been to a track meet? 🏃‍♀️ no
What do you call the bathroom? Do you say bathroom, restroom, washroom, lavatory, loo, toilet, latrine, or….? bathroom, occasionally restroom if I need a public one and I’m asking an employee at whatever store
When was the last time you made guacamole? 🥑 I never have
Do you know of any schools that have the beaver for a mascot? not that I know of
Have you ever stayed in a suite? no, just an occasional real nice hotel room
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
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Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.
Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?
I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.
This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.
Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?
(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative. 
It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?
SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).
BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.
Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....
None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?
Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.
I mean?!?!
And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....
And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?
Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?
Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?
Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.
And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.
Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -
(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)
- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?
We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?
Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.
Is that how that went down?
You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?
The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?
Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?
Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?
Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....
They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!
Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?
afshklfhalfhalfhla
Make it make sense!
And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).
BUT.
BUT BUT BUT.
The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.
Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....
THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.
Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...
The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....
That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.
Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....
And you chose not to.
That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.
For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.
And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....
You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).
And its just like, uh, what's up with that?
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plinkcat-gif · 2 years
Text
one final playlist 😁😁 this one is for @butter--peanut and her fic/au kamui blues 😋
so fair warning, i don’t remember specific events from kb, only like three general plot points, so these could absolutely relate to other things in the story!! and it’s also why i didn’t name any too specific events lmfao
a lot of these are also mostly incoherent because i have a killer headache rn 🧡
Peace Be Still by The Hunts
it’s their relationship <33
Dirty Paws by Of Monsters And Men
so this one is less lyrics and far more the music in between; the uphill battle, the fight for growth, the climb of the mountain. it’s the wind whipping and pushing and the rock crumbling and continuing anyways. which to me, is a major part of kamui blues: obito’s shift in ideals and his redirection of his will to fight, both of them helping each other come to terms with themselves, pushing through the bleak times because they wanted to for each other.
Downhill by Lincoln
ough a sort of wry spin on obito’s hopelessness when kakashi’s trying to help him out of it, and perhaps a commentary on his recovery from it. mostly in the lyrics:
Because i went downhill at such steep incline
That my rearview mirror showed me only the sky,
And i laughed about it all night.
it also kind of touches on how kakashi affects him, i think. like how what he says sort of changes his perception/acceptance of himself, if only a little.
Thistle & Weeds by Mumford & Sons
obito’s nightmares of the people he’s killed, and his feelings about that. the hopelessness of it, until
But plant your hope with good seeds
Don’t cover yourself with thistle and weeds
which could be kakashi’s attempt at helping.
this song has a little darker tone to it with no real hopeful resolution imo, but i think it still fits! kind of both their trauma tbh, especially after konan’s death.
Valentina by The Hunts
ah this has post-war celebration vibes for the two of them :33 finally getting to live their happy lives together hehe
also
You taught me dear, to be courageous
YEAH!! agsjehaudhwhdja i love them
Bridges Burning by Wild Child
honestly i think this fits for both their longing for each other but the belief that they can’t possibly deserve the other; they’re too broken. but the song doesn’t sound hopeless to me, rather forgiving actually!! which they’ve gotta do to themselves before they can be with the other, and it’s what they teach the other too i think <333
Boreas by The Oh Hellos
obito’s growth, and kakashi’s role in that!! kakashi helping him realize he isn’t worthless; he has worth to kakashi, and that matters.
also outside of obkk, it’s juubi yamato sjakdhjsjd
m’Lover by Kishi Bashi
aghwhegshadhhs it’s them <3333 fuck this song fits them so well for this au :’))))))) both music and lyrics ahdajeijqd
King and Lionheart by Of Monsters And Men
And as the world comes to an end
I'll be here to hold your hand
Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart
same vibes as Dirty Paws, but with these added lyrics…..yeah 😭😭😭
Human by The Hunts
AWWWGH ITS THEIR RELATIONSHIP 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Trying by Cavetown
SHIT THIS ONE TOO FOR THE EXACT SAME REASONS AWGWHSHAHDG it’s the acceptance 😭😭😭😭😭
Remembrance by Balmorhea
umm ok i highly recommend the amv by kenney creates on youtube because that’s where i found this song and i cry every time i see it <3333 but i think this song also captures the same sort of feelings in kamui blues. just. everything about it i think. i can’t be coherent about this song i’m sorry i just <3333?/&;$&/):1773$;!:!(
Delilah by Florence + The Machine
the war!! juubi tenzo!! the fighting and coming to life and everything!!! this song is so full of determination and hope and accomplishment!!!!!
Dear Wormwood by The Oh Hellos
I have always known you
You have always been there in my mind
But now I understand you
And I will not be part of your designs
I know who I am now
And all that you've made of me
I know who you are now
And I name you my enemy
this has always read as obito breaking free from madara’s control in any au, and it stands true here <3
Blame by Air Traffic Controller
THIS SONG. the beginning explanation and sadness into the bursting hope and joy and accomplishment….soooo obito it’s such an obito in kb song (as well as kakashi’s role in his growth)!! the lyrics all fit perfectly too of course <3
Passenger by Lisa Hannigan
also a end-of-the-journey song. they can rest easy. finally.
Frost by Coast Modern
ALSO A CONCLUSION SONG!!! idk why this song has just always read as a “take a rest. lay down. it’s over.” song <3333 maybe they have to keep going, until kakashi’s no longer hokage, but once there, it’s retirement <3333
Time Adventure by Rebecca Sugar
tbh i don’t remember why i put this in here! but i think it’s still fitting, especially when rinne rebirth
Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons
absolutely this is reanimated rin finally meeting kakashi in the woods r u kidding. nuff said.
Finch In The Pantry by The Arcadian Wild
this is rin and obito and kakashi reuniting towards the end 😭😭 and then the following peace and progression and stuff ofc
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ssahoodrathotchner · 4 years
Text
Pictures of You
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff
A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)
Masterlist
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You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.
“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”
Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.
“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.
Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.
The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?
“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.
“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.
“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.
“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”
And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.
“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.
“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.
Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.
“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.
Fuck. What do you remember?
“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.
“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”
“Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.
“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.
“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.
Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”
“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.
“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”
You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.
“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.
Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?
“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?
“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.
However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.
“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”
And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.
“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?
Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.
“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.
“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.
At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.
“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.
Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.
“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”
With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.
“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.
“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.
Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”
“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”
“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”
Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.
“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.
“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.
“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.
“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”
“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.
“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.
The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.
Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.
“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.
“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.
“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”
“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.
“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.
You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.
Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.
“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.
Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.
“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.
You pause and consider for a moment.
“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”
Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.
“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”
“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”
“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.
“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.
“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”
“And the unsub?”
“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”
“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.
“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.
“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.
“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.
You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.
“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.
“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”
You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.
---
You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.  
“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.
“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”
“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”
You raise your eyebrows.
“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”
That catches your attention.
“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.
“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.
Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.
“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.
“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.
“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.
“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.
Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.
“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.
“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.
You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.
“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.
“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “
“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”
With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.
---
It doesn’t work.
Fuck.
Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.
The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.
It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.
The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.
“Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.
“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”
Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.
A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.
“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.
You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.
“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”
Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.
“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.
“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”
And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.
“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.
“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—
Oh.
Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—
There.
It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.
Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.
And you know.
With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.
“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”
And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.
Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.
“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.
“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “
“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”
You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.
“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.
“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”
“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”
Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.
“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”
Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile. 
You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”
“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.
“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.
“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”
“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”
“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”
“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”
“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.
“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.
“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”
Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.
With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.
“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.
“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.
Yeah, this is happily ever after.
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