#and one of them told me something very personal and said this is how she knows we’re gonna be friends bc i didn’t judge her 🥹🥹🥹

[do-you-have-a-flag]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[mayakern]

I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.

Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.

She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.

It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.

Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.

The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.

We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 

We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.

Ash

Chief Operations Officer

[p0orbaby]

She’ll Know Me Crazy, Soothe Me Daily

summary: you go into labour (leah’s version)

warnings: mentions of pregnancy and labour, who’d have guessed

a/n: i got a request for this and dropped everything at work to write it so if i get fired it’s your fault !

word count: 1.8k

-

It’s three a.m., and you’re lying in bed in that half-dream, half-wake state, thinking about nothing and everything at once—plans, names, logistics, the strange feeling in your back, how Leah’s snoring sounds almost like a broken radiator. You’d drifted off earlier with the usual suspects on your mind—last-minute nursery tweaks, what it’d be like to actually meet this new person, how you’re supposed to keep them alive once they’re here.

Then suddenly you’re very awake. And aware. The kind of aware that has you blinking up at the ceiling, trying to gauge if you’re imagining this, if maybe it’s all just part of the anxious last-few-weeks-of-pregnancy weirdness. But no, no. It’s real. The sensation you’d ignored all night is now gripping you in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

Your waters have broken.

You’re in labour.

In the midst of grappling with this sudden, primal realisation that your body is not only capable of this but actively doing it, your first instinct is to look to Leah. After all, this is the same Leah who can keep her head in the midst of a stadium of screaming fans, who’s always told you, right up until yesterday, that she’s “got this, babe.” The same Leah who’s been planning this night in her head like a military operation—bags packed, snacks labelled, an entire eight-page birth plan on the kitchen counter with sections highlighted in three colours. She’s got this.

You roll over and give her a shake. “Leah,” you hiss, breath short and tight, like you’re hoping the urgency will slip through the layers of her sleep.

She doesn’t stir. Instead, she mumbles something incoherent and continues snoring, entirely oblivious to the fact that you are, in real time, about to bring a whole new human into the world.

“Leah,” you say, louder now, and with a sharper jab to her shoulder. “Leah, wake up. My waters just broke”

This gets her. She bolts upright, eyes bleary and unfocused, looking around with all the awareness of someone woken up by a fire alarm. She has one sock on and her hair is falling out of her bun in every direction, sticking to her forehead in curls that make her look, for lack of a better description, entirely unhinged. What?” she blurts, looking at you like you’ve just told her the moon’s fallen out of orbit.

“I said, my waters just broke. I’m in labour”

She stares at you blankly, and then at the clock. “Now? Like…now, now?”

“Yes, now, Leah. That’s how it works”

“Oh… oh my god. Okay. Right.” She throws herself out of bed, hands flailing a bit in what could generously be called an attempt to find her balance, looking every bit like she’s just woken up in the middle of a burning building. She blinks, rubs her face, and then stares around the room with all the sharp focus of someone who’s lost all concept of time, place, and purpose.

She begins moving around the room, grabbing objects seemingly at random—a pair of your slippers, a half-empty water bottle, the book she’s been reading that she still hasn’t finished because every time she gets to a chapter break she’s distracted by some tangent or half-thought that spirals out of control. You watch as she picks up her phone, only to immediately drop it in a panic.

You try not to laugh. You fail, slightly, but she’s too distracted to notice.

“Hospital bag,” you remind her. “By the door”

“Right, yes. The hospital bag.” She says it with the blankness of someone who’s just been reminded of the existence of the universe itself. She nods emphatically, almost comically, and rushes out of the room, one sock on, one sock off, muttering, “Hospital bag. Yes. By the door. Got it”

For a few blissful seconds, she’s out of the room, and you can breathe, collecting yourself in the strange solitude. You can’t help but feel a strange, surreal amusement in the whole thing—after months of birthing classes, of Leah listening intently to the instructor, nodding along like she was studying for the final exam, of stacks of books and bookmarked articles and quiet reassurances that she’d be ready…she’s now charging through the house like a headless chicken, her panic almost louder than the quiet early-morning calm.

She’s back in less than a minute, looking absolutely horrified. “It’s… it’s not there”

“What do you mean, it’s not there?”

“I mean it’s not—by the door. I don’t see it. Did we…did we put it somewhere else?” She’s visibly panicking now, eyes wide and darting around as if the bag might materialise if she looks in enough absurdly irrelevant places, like the windowsill or behind the potted plant.

“It’s by the door,” you repeat, managing to keep your tone steady and encouraging, despite the fact that you’re, oh right, currently in labour.

“Right,” she says again, nodding in a way that looks almost mechanical. “Right, yes. By the door. Of course”

She’s off, scrambling out of the room with one sock half-off, muttering the word “bag” to herself like it’s some kind of holy incantation. The momentary peace of her absence gives you a moment to focus on your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling in slow, measured counts, trying to recall the absurd number of hours you spent watching labour tutorials and wondering if any of that information will come back to you now, in the thick of it.

Moments later, she returns, this time clutching the bag triumphantly in one hand. Her face is a strange mix of pride and exasperation, like she’s just conquered Everest but is deeply unimpressed with the mountain.

“Got it,” she announces, as if the sheer act of retrieving it from the entryway deserves some sort of medal. She sets the bag down on the bed with an air of absolute finality, as though the weight of the world has been lifted from her shoulders.

You smile at her, keeping your voice calm. “Alright, love. Let’s get dressed and head out”

“Dressed,” she echoes, her face going blank again as if the concept of clothes is suddenly beyond her comprehension.

“Yes, Leah. Clothes. You might want to put some on”

For a long moment, she stares at the wardrobe as though it’s some kind of cryptic puzzle. Then, with an almost bewildered shake of her head, she pulls it open and begins pulling out clothes at random—a pair of jeans, a jumper she only wears when it’s freezing, and, inexplicably, a thick wool scarf.

“Leah, it’s June”

She freezes mid-scarf-wrap, blinks, and slowly unwinds it. “Right, yeah. June. Good. Warm.” She tosses the scarf aside, looking faintly sheepish.

“Hang on… should I call someone? I feel like we should call someone. Do we… call 999? Or is that just for emergencies?”

“Leah,” you manage between breaths, “this is an emergency. It’s literally… labour. It’s happening right now”

“Right! Emergency.” She nods rapidly, like a bobblehead on overdrive, and jabs at her phone screen with so much intensity that it nearly flies out of her hand. She stops mid-dial, eyes wide with panic. “Wait. No, no…maybe we just drive there? Or do they… do they send someone?”

You look at her, trying not to let your exasperation show through the mounting pain. “Leah, we’re just going to drive. We’ve been through this.”

“Right. Yes. Driving. Of course. I knew that.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to physically dislodge the panic, muttering, “I’m just—okay. Drive. Right. Okay.” She finally lets go of her phone and starts making her way toward the door, muttering things like, “Got it. We’ve got this,” in a way that sounds more like she’s trying to reassure herself than you.

But then she stops. Turns. Looks back at you, blinking in realisation. “Are you…are you alright?”

“I’m in labour,” you say with a thin smile, “so no. Not really. But let’s keep going”

“Right, yeah. That makes sense.” She nods like you’ve just imparted some deep wisdom, like the words in labour contain ancient knowledge previously unknown to her.

By now, another contraction has hit, and you’re clutching the edge of the bed, breathing through it with every bit of focus you can muster. Leah watches, horrified, looking like she might faint just from witnessing the sheer audacity of labour itself.

“Should I… is there something I can… I don’t know, can I do something?” She’s hovering now, looking at you helplessly like she’s waiting for you to hand her a to-do list.

You grit your teeth, squeezing out a reply. “Just… breathe. With me. Okay? In… and out”

She takes a shaky breath, her hand rising and falling in time with yours as if synchronising her breathing might somehow keep you both tethered to reality. For a moment, it’s almost peaceful, the two of you breathing in unison, a strange little pocket of calm amid the chaos.

And then, just as quickly, the panic is back.

“Wait. Snacks. We’re going to need snacks”

“Snacks?” you manage, halfway between a groan and a laugh.

“Yes. For energy. They said snacks are crucial.” She’s already halfway to the kitchen before you can protest, practically flinging open cupboards and rummaging through drawers with the frantic energy of someone who’s just realised they’re on an episode of MasterChef and has thirty seconds left on the clock. She emerges with an armful of items that make absolutely no sense together—a banana, a bag of crisps, two protein bars, and, inexplicably, a tin of chickpeas.

You stare at the tin in her hands. “Leah, we’re not bringing chickpeas”

“They’re protein,” she says, with a ridiculous level of conviction.

You watch, trying desperately not to laugh as she rummages through drawers, muttering about water bottles and phone chargers and—god help you both—“emergency blankets.” She’s wearing one shoe, and her sock has somehow ended up on her hand, and she’s pacing so frenetically that she nearly trips over her own feet at least twice.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you manage to corral her towards the door, where she stops suddenly, wide-eyed and visibly distressed.

“Wait!” she exclaims, her hand shooting out to grip your arm in sheer, abject horror. “The… the speaker for the birthing playlist!”

You stare at her blankly for a moment before realising that, yes, she’s referring to the hours-long playlist she’d meticulously curated in the months leading up to this moment—a mix of calming piano tracks, soothing instrumentals, and, inexplicably, a handful of 80s power ballads that she swore would “keep the energy up.”

“We… we don’t have time for the speaker, Leah”

She looks at you like you’ve just suggested abandoning a child. “But you… we planned it. I spent hours on Spotify—”

“We don’t need the speaker,” you tell her, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm. You’re at the door, shoes on, bag in hand, and if she doesn’t start moving soon, you’re fairly certain you’ll be having this baby right here in the hallway.

She stares at you, visibly torn, before finally nodding, reluctantly. “Right. No speaker. We can…we’ll improvise”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling. “We’ll improvise”

And finally—finally—she takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and steps out the door, hand in yours, still muttering under her breath about the playlist, about snacks, about breathing techniques and birthing balls and god knows what else.

[reidsbabyhoney]

second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

-

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.

-

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

-

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

-

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

-

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @floralemi12 @laviatia-blog @reggieswriter @hazzarules @spencerreidsglasses @notarobotipromise @gghostwriter @taygrls @powerline-valley @october-baby25 @forevermorepassionate

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[garciaasfluffypen]

stop embarassing me! (she knows everything you're saying)

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 3k warnings: jj and emily find it very hot that you can speak italian, illusions to sexy times at the end request from this ask a/n: everything y/n says that's in italian is translated at the bottom of the post! that being said, everything was written with a translator so please excuse any errors. also, enjoy the lore drop ;)

your italian grandmother was in town, and you were quite literally going to shit your dick.

you had cleaned your apartment top to bottom roughly five times since the news that your grandmother was coming in the off chance she asked to stay at the dingy little place. granted, you hadn’t been there full time in months, but she didn’t know that. while you had a strained relationship with your father, you were very close with your nonna. she had been there for you through all the battles you had to fight against your father as a teenager, including all the battles where he didn’t want you to take care of your siblings simply because of who you were as a person. while he saw your life through facebook, that was the only access he got to you after you turned eighteen. you only kept that line available simply so he could see how your siblings were doing. and that was it. he had created such a big fuss when you came out the month before your 18th birthday that you decided you’d cut him off as much as you could. he tried to alienate you from the rest of your family, for pete’s sake. he didn’t get to know shit about you anymore.

the joke was on him, though, seeing as the rest of your family was cool with the idea of you being queer. granted, you hadn’t dropped the bomb about being polyamorous, but you figured with how well your support system in DC was going, it would be okay. you had told your little brothers about a month prior, and all they wanted to know about emily and jj was if they were treating you right. and obviously, when they could come meet them. your older brother was in the army, so it took a little longer to get a hold of him, but he promised to stop by DC whenever he had leave next so he could meet them. 

but this? this was your grandmother. it was absolutely terrifying to think of losing her. she was one of your only relatives left that could fight for you, and even though she was in her seventies you were worried about losing her. if anything, you were worried that she’d lose you first, but you didn’t want to think about that or else you’d start spiraling. you stayed alive for not only yourself and your siblings, but for her too. and you would probably cry if she said anything that even insinuated that she’d leave you. either way, you figured that you’d introduce her to them before dropping the polyamory bomb. it worked, since hotch said you could give her and your two brothers a tour of quantico this weekend and everyone except for you had been called in for a mandatory paperwork weekend.

you met up with your brothers and nonna outside quantico, slipping into the italian you had shoved into the back of your brain easily. considering it was easier to speak italian with your grandmother since your dad had never really learned it, it was something you just naturally did whenever you were around her. you weren’t sure how the team was going to react to it, but you’d cross that bridge when you got there. you got them all visitors patches and explained all your favorite parts of the building, showing them every little nook and cranny that you loved to hide in when you didn’t want to talk to people except emily and jj. making your way up to the bullpen, you felt a jolt of nervousness flow through your system. you didn’t know how your team was going to react to them at all. they had known bits and pieces about your older brother, but you hadn’t told them about your two younger brothers. that was a can of worms you weren’t sure you wanted to open around them yet. 

“nonna, before we go meet my team, they can be… they can be a little excitable.” 

your nonna shrugged. “nothing i can’t handle. i raised your aunts and uncles.” she paused. “and unfortunately, your father.” 

“you bring up a very good point. and don’t mind anything derek says. he doesn’t really have a filter.” 

“is he the one who likes football?” your youngest brother, colin, looked up to you. 

“yep. i’m sure he’d love to talk to you about it, depending on how far into the paperwork he is. and let me… let me handle the introductions, please. at least the first ones.” 

“of course, sweets.”

jj was one of the first people to realize you had stepped into the bullpen, seeing you walk in from where she was making her third cup of coffee in the kitchen. she was about to come say hi to you, but then she heard it. that beautiful, mid morning husk that you had whenever you woke up late mixed with… was that italian? she had to grab onto the counter to stop her knees from buckling as you talked to who she only could assume was your grandmother, since you had been talking about her all week leading up to today. she wasn’t sure who the two younger boys were with you, but she was sure she’d find out shortly. the keurig beeped, shaking her out of her thoughts as she turned around to grab her coffee, a stirrer going in seconds later. 

she felt a wave of want go through her body, and she had to physically stop herself from going over to you and ravishing you then and there in front of everyone you had spent the past five years working next to. she knew it was hot when emily spoke in other languages, but hearing you speak so fluently and so carefree, with that giant smile on your face? it was one of the hottest things she had ever seen you do. granted, a lot of the things you did were hot, but this? this took the cake. jj took some cool water from the sink and rubbed it on her cheeks, knowing all too well that her cheeks were most likely a crimson red from just thinking about you speaking in another language to her. you didn’t know much about that aspect of jj and emily yet, considering you only been exploring everything for a few months. she knew so much about emily, yet she felt like she didn’t know anything about you sometimes. 

“you done coffee-ing that stirrer?” luke leaned up against the counter, a smirk on his face as he watched jj. “you’ve been stirring for five minutes.” 

“have i?” jj let the stirrer go, watching it go around in the cup. 

“you seem distracted, are you okay?” 

“i… yeah.” 

while luke knew the general aspects of your relationship with her and emily, she didn’t want to delve too much into it while on the clock. he knew there was more she wasn’t saying, but knew not to push too much. but that didn’t stop him from joking around about how hard she was very clearly simping for you in the middle of the office. 

“are you gonna stare and gawk at your girlfriend or are you going to say hi?” 

“i will, i just…”

luke smiled. “i see. go to the bathroom for a sec, i’ll cover you.” 

jj scrunched her face as luke started laughing. “ew. you pervert.” she jokingly punched him in the arm. “it’s just… they speak italian.” 

“okay… doesn't emily speak italian?”

“that’s different. she’s not… she’s not them.” 

meanwhile, you had started to make your rounds, slowly introducing your nonna to your team. she found everyone quite charming, and it relaxed you quite a bit knowing that they all made a good impression. even hotch came out of his office, introducing himself and engaging in the conversations. it was nice, introducing one of the most important people in your life to your found family. the next part, however, was telling your nonna about emily and jj. colin seemed to catch on very quickly when he caught jj staring, but didn’t want to say anything in case your nonna didn’t know, but he would definitely be facetime you tomorrow to talk about it. the longer you talked with your team, the more you realized you were subconsciously searching for jj the whole time. emily was at her desk, but jj was nowhere to be found. which was unlike her, unless she had taken a late lunch. which would also be unlike her. 

“y/n!” penelope’s voice carried through the bullpen as she walked out of the round table room, smiling and bringing you in for a hug the second she got next to you. “i thought you weren’t coming in today? and ms ruthie! it’s so lovely to see you again!” 

you visibly relaxed at her touch, “hotch said i could show my nonna and brothers around today.” 

“it’s lovely to see you again too, penelope. did you dye your hair?”

“i did. just filled my roots in a little bit.” penelope chuckled. “nothing too crazy, don’t worry nonna.” 

emily stood up, a smile on her face as she walked over to introduce herself. “you said she was italian, right?”

“yep!” 

“ciao signora, piacere di conoscerti!” 

“she speaks italian?” your grandmother looked over to you, excitement in her eyes. “che emozione.”

“i do, i lived in italy as a teen.” emily smiled. “prentiss. emily. emily prentiss.” she held her hand out. 

“è una da tenersi stretta, ed è anche carina!” your grandma raised her eyebrows at you. “she speaks italian!” 

you couldn’t help but blush. “nonna! mi metti in imbarazzo.” 

“oh hush, i’m not embarrassing you!”

“considerando che lei sa italiano, lei sa esattamente quello che dici, nonna.”

your other brother, justin, piped in. “y/n has a point, nonna. if her coworker knows italian she’ll understand everything you’re saying. you’re not very slick with that.” 

“oh it’s okay,” emily chuckled. “it’s quite amusing.” 

“let me not be rude,” your grandma turned to the rest of the team. “i’m ruthie. i practically raised y/n since she was a baby.” 

“dang, sweet thing, i didn’t know you came with another language!” derek chuckled. 

“derek the next thing that comes out of your mouth better be appropriate for my seventy six year old italian grandmother to hear.” 

“i was going to ask if your girls knew about that, is all.” 

you rolled your eyes, knowing that not at all what derek was about to say. “no, they don’t, but they’ll be meeting nonna this weekend if everything goes to plan.” 

“who am i meeting?”

“le luci della mia vita, le ragazze che ho frequentato.” you couldn’t help but sheepishly smile as you caught emily’s eye. “one of them is right here, actually.” 

emily wasn’t sure if the blush on her face was any indication of how she was feeling, but good god it was sending her into orbit hearing you talk in italian. over the five years they had known you, the fact you knew italian this whole time was the most surprising. there were bits and pieces that they had been able to get out of you, but you were pretty secretive about your life before joining the bau. penelope knew most, if not all of your story since you two had been friends since high school, but that was all she knew. besides the fact that you turned her on so easily. that was a given. she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she watched you slowly try to explain to your nonna about how you were dating two girls, not just one. the way you took so much care in choosing your words, explaining everything as easily as you could… it was endearing. 

she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, not until jj came to stand next to her, knuckles white as she seemingly held herself back. your face lit up as you saw jj, launching into another tangent to your nonna about how jj had been one of the first people to befriend you when you joined the team. within seconds, the two women started having a silent conversation with just their eyes. they both felt the same way, it seemed, and they were both going a bit feral over this new side of you. although emily did appear to be hiding it a bit better than jj was. emily nudged jj’s knee with her own, shooting her a smirk that could only be read by two people. you and jj. jj bit her lip, having to physically restrain herself once again as you seamlessly switched back into italian, your eyes lighting up as you explained the dynamics of the team to your nonna. 

“so tell me again, who are you partnered with?”

“i go out in the field with either derek or matt.” you pointed to them individually. “matt’s role is unique, he also helps the IRT team so he comes and goes depending on if he’s needed internationally. we like to joke we split custody of him with the international team.” 

“and the tall one?”

“reid? he’s the brains.” reid awkwardly waved from his desk. “he usually knows stuff that we don’t. kind of like how colin knows almost everything about football.”

“oh yes, that makes sense. and what about the lovely ladies?”

“well you know what pen does, tara and jj do a lot of the interviews with families, and i always say that emily’s job is to sit there and look pretty, but she usually goes out in the field and investigates with reid.” 

“you all seem to be a well oiled machine,” ruthie started. “i’m glad you’re looking out for my y/n. they had a tough life growing up, it’s nice to know they’re supported here.” 

“oh they’re a pleasure to work with,” rossi piped up. “a welcome addition to the team for sure.”

as your nonna conversed with the team, you couldn’t help but glance over to jj. you forgot how much she adored it when emily talked in italian, but hadn’t even considered the option of how she would react when she heard you speak italian. to you, emily appeared to be holding in her need for you relatively well. her cheeks were flushed, sure, but she was also in a turtleneck in the office where they blasted the heat the second it got below 60. jj on the other hand… jj looked like she needed a cold shower. you had to hold back a chuckle as you caught tara’s eyes, who also appeared to have clocked her reaction as well. jj’s jaw was slack as she stared at you, eyes filled with lust. while your grandmother was distracted, you took the moment to squeeze her hand lightly to see if she was okay. tara took the opportunity to close jj’s jaw for her, shooting you a small smile as she did so. emily had to hide a chuckle, covering her mouth with a hand as she nudged at the blonde. you locked eyes with jj, your eyebrows raising as she stared back at you, her gaze telling you everything you needed to know. you weren’t going to go all bratty on her here, since you hadn’t talked a whole lot about boundaries outside of the house, but you were tempted. 

“i didn’t know you’d act this way, jayje. i would have done this way earlier if i had known.” you chuckled. “you got a thing for other languages?” 

“only from you and em.” 

you squeezed her hand, resisting the urge to kiss her. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” 

tara, picking up on the mood shift between you two, suddenly stood up. “hey, i was gonna go grab a soda, do either of you want anything?” 

“nah, i’m good. do you want anything?”

“i’m good too, thanks t.” you smiled at tara, waiting for her to leave before turning back to jj and emily. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you guys sooner.” 

“don’t be sorry, lovey, it never came up.” emily shrugged. “i will be using this information to my advantage, though.”

“what, so you can converse in secret in front of me?”

“mostly about christmas gifts, but yes.” you joined in on the joke, a sarcastic hint in your voice. 

“your nonna is very sweet.”

“she is.” you smiled. “i’m sure she’ll love to talk about your time in italy this weekend when you guys come for dinner. she doesn’t know i’m not in the alexandria apartment anymore, i figured this would be the last hurrah before i ended the lease.” you shrugged. “if you guys don’t mind driving out there.”

“of course not, baby.” jj squeezed your hand. “are you coming home tonight, though? or are you staying at the apartment?” 

you stared at jj for a second, your eyes narrowing. you crossed your arms in front of your chest before tapping your shoulder, eyebrows rising as if silently asking her are you in control? jj slightly nodded at you before tilting her head, waiting for your confirmation. you tapped your shoulder again in confirmation, making sure nobody in the vicinity besides emily had decoded your silent conversation. 

“i’ll try. i’m not sure where my nonna is staying, but i’ll let you know.” 

“i want you home by eleven.” jj’s eyes darkened, voice dropping slightly. “no later.” 

before the conversation could take a turn, you felt a light hand on your back. turning to see justin, you smiled. 

“what’s up?”

“nonna wants to know what the plan was, are we heading back to alexandria?”

“i uh… i was hoping to stay here, actually.” you tilted your head towards jj in silent explanation. 

“does she know?”

“well, she understood the fact that emily and i were together, at least.” you chuckled as you caught your nonna talking to luke and tara. “not sure she picked up on jj’s obvious simping.” 

“either way, it is a drive back to alexandra so if we want to go to dinner, we should go now.” 

“you’re right, we should.” you turned back to emily and jj. “i’ll text you guys when i figure out where i’ll be tonight?”

jj narrowed her eyes at you with a devious smile on her face. “11pm, y/n. no later.”

with a chuckle, you stepped away, letting jj’s hand fall back to her side.

“i’ll do my best.” you smirked slightly. “we have dinner plans.”

translations:

nonna- grandmother

ciao signora, piacere di conoscerti- hello ma’am, nice to meet you!

che emozione.- how exciting

è una da tenersi stretta ed è anche carina! - she’s a keeper, she’s pretty too.

mi metti in imbarazzo- you’re embarrassing me

considerando che lei sa italiano, lei sa esattamente quello che dici, nonna.- considering she knows italian, she knows exactly what you're saying, grandma

le luci della mia vita, le ragazze che ho frequentato.- the lights of my life, the girls i've been dating

taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic @softestqueeen @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[diangelodork]

OKAY HERES A THING IVE BEEN ITCHING TO TALK ABOUT BUT IVE BEEN AFRAID THAT PEOPLE WILL MISINTERPRET ME

crystal knows that edwin likes charles. look at how she looks at them in the first few episodes especially. look at the things she says about them. “deceased married couple,” for one. i KNOW she knows it. it’s OKAY that she knows it. she KNOWS WHY edwin’s jealous and that’s OKAY. she isn’t obligated to protect edwin’s feelings. she isn’t obligated to refuse to pursue something with charles just because she knows how edwin feels. that’s not her fucking responsibility!! she can be aware and understand and still become involved with charles!!!!

i’ve been so afraid to say this because i don’t want anyone to sit here and think im saying that crystal is a shitty person for doing stuff with charles even though she knows how edwin feels. i’m not saying that at all.

because i’m neurodivergent, i feel i must liken this to my own experiences to help elucidate my meaning.

i had this friend group where everyone knew i had a crush on this one guy. he was my best friend at the time. he told us he had a crush on someone but that he would only tell me because i was the person he trusted the most. he told me it was someone else within the friend group. he then enlisted my help in asking her out and i did it. i had a conversation with her where i asked if she liked anyone and was very clearly trying to coax out an answer. i eventually said something along the lines of “but if you HAD to choose one person to date, who would it be???” and she finally cracked and said that it would be him, but that she would never do anything about it because she couldn’t do that to me. i was immediately like ??? that’s bullshit?? i don’t have any particular claim over this person. sure, i like him, but who am i to stand in the way of a potential relationship? you like him and he likes you and you’re allowed to do something about it. i can put my big boy pants on and say that you both made a choice and accept that i wasn’t it. that’s fine. don’t refuse the fact that you like him for my sake, that’s dumb.

all this to say, edwin liking charles does not mean he has a claim over him. charles can make his own decisions and the one he chose was to pursue crystal. crystal is not then obligated to say “well, because i know that edwin likes him, i will not pursue him back out of respect! even though he likes me and is actively TRYING to pursue me and even though i actively like him back!!”

that’s some BULLSHIT. they are their own people and are capable of making their own decisions!! she can know and still like him and want him and make out with him. that’s fine! stop treating her like a shit person just because she knows!

[loverslodge]

after the date

Bucky was stunned by the way Steve had talked to you. He too felt like a prized pony but there had to be a better way of putting things, weren't there? One of them made you cry. Bucky couldn't remove the sight of your face when Steve said those things. He swore he heard your heart break. Your tears were an added bonus that wrenched his own heart.

Steve was seething. He felt used. He had the same feeling he had felt when he had broken up with Sharon. This was it, wasn't it? This was his life. A famous person, up on a pedestal, just to look good. But something else cracked. When he saw your broken face, he knew he overstepped, he knew he said things he shouldn't have. He didn't mean it like that. But you had left. Left before he could even realize he fucked up.

………………….

The journey back to the compound was eerily quiet. Bucky wasn't talking to Steve and neither did Steve initiate any discussion.

Bucky knew he should say something but he was too pissed off. If he started talking, punches would have flown with them so he kept quiet. Held himself off. He looked down at his hand to see the bag of books with that single rose you had given him in the morning.

Steve was fidgeting in the seat. He was holding the rose you had given him that morning. You had said you show how you feel because you were never good with words. Was this you showing something? Had he missed something?

As soon as the car stopped in the garage, Bucky jumped out and stomped in the compound. Steve ran after him to talk but Bucky had already slipped in the elevator and had gone up to their shared apartment.

As soon as Steve entered the apartment, a punch flew to his mouth, staggering him. He was ready to counter attack but seeing it was an enraged Bucky, he let it go. Steve did deserve a punch after what he did.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you end a perfect date like that?” Bucky needed answers.

“It was the right thing to do. We were slipping way too much into her life. It was a fake date.” Steve went to his room and gently put his rose on the side table.

“Come out here. Talk. I'm not letting this behaviour of yours slide.” Bucky demanded.

Steve stomped out. “You are not my boyfriend to demand this kind of shit from me.”

“Is this what it's about? A pent up 100 year old hold up?”

“No. This is about us not addressing the issues. I was in love with Peggy and not you. You were just there and that kiss was a drunken mistake.”

“I don't care about any of that. Let's call it a mistake, fine. But what was that tonight? You made her cry.”

“I told her the truth.”

“There are ways of telling the truth, Steve. You are the gentle one. What the fuck happened back there? Why did you just jump guns?” Bucky walked very close to Steve. He wanted to slap his face and put some sense into it.

Bucky poked and pushed him with the question again and again because Steve kept on ignoring him.

“I got jealous, okay? I got jealous, thinking that there could have been more candidates and she would have picked someone else over us. Us, Bucky. I don't even care if she chose you. I was happy that it was me and you and not me or you. She accepted us together. But got jealous thinking if someone else had responded before us then she would've gone.” Steve ran his hands over his hair and face.

“So you weren't jealous of me being with her?”

“God no! I really liked seeing you with her. It made me happy to see you happy with her.”

Steve held Bucky by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. Steve was on the verge of tears for what he did to you.

“Then why the fuck did you say that to her?” Bucky asked him in a quiet tone.

“I got angry. I acted rash and dumb. I- shit. I feel so guilty. She was nothing but incredible. Every time there was sadness in her eyes, she would push it aside and smile for us. She did so well the entire day and I ruined it. I ruined her perfect day.” Steve sat with his head in his hands.

“Didn't we jump to this because it was all no strings attached and no expectations? Then why were there strings and expectations?” Bucky wasn't just asking it to Steve but to himself as well.

“Maybe because of her.” They both looked at each other, understanding what Steve was trying to say. “It was all her. She just- she's an angel, Buck. Sweet, kind and adorable little angel. If just looking at her made us think that then imagine how much we felt when we talked to her.”

“She drew strings without knowing. We were so confident in proving that we won't have expectations but her being unconditional about everything just broke our confidence, didn't it?” Bucky stared down at his hands. “She expected nothing. She even went as far as to open herself bare to us without expecting us to do something about it.”

“She was ready to leave us alone once the day was over, did you know that?” Steve looked at Bucky who looked at him with wide eyes.

“How do you know that?”

“I read her memos. She was getting gelato for us in the park and her memo fell out. She was detailed about today. She had written it down. Underline and everything! She really dove head first without asking for anything in return.”

Bucky and Steve sat in silence. Today had brought a lot of clarity to them. One of them being that they belonged together but not alone. They belonged together with you.

Sure, Bucky and Steve have had their moments with each other but they never talked about it. But it seemed like after today, there needed to be a lot of clarifications. Both of them spent hours talking and clarifying.

They were both in bed, next to each other. Still wanting to talk about the most important thing, you.

“So, I know we just started something new but what about Angel?” Steve really did want you in their lives.

“I was thinking the same thing. I know we have us but it feels, I don't know, empty. Today, with her, I felt like we were complete.” Bucky shifted and looked at Steve.

“You know, I felt so much at ease with her. Like she wasn't expecting me to just burst my heart open for her every two seconds. I felt very calm with her. I just wish I hadn't said those things. We would've gotten more time with her. Maybe talk to her. Ask her if she wanted this to be something real.”

“We didn't even get to say goodbye. You know, after the dinner, I was going to ask her if she would be willing to spend another day with us. I've never felt like this before, you know. Except with you. I felt very comfortable with her.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“So we're okay with a third being with us. And we want that third to be her and only her. Correct?” Steve summarized their thoughts.

“Correct. Our Angel. We need to talk to her.”

“Do you think she'll want to talk to me after what I said?” Steve’s voice turned sad.

“Of course she will. We will not let a misunderstanding get in our way. We will win her back.” Bucky was determined.

“You know, I think I know why she came up with this no expectation thing.” Steve looked at Bucky

“Why?” Bucky was curious to know Steve’s interpretation.

“Because no one fought for her. After listening to her story, it's very clear. While she tried her best, when she left, no one was there to tell her to not go. It was as if nobody cared.” Steve had tears in his eyes.

“Then we show her. We show her that we will fight for her. We want her and she is it for us. We will show her. Maybe we can mend her heart the way she's mending ours.” Bucky patted Steve and rubbed his arm to give him confidence.

……………….

It had been two weeks since the date went horribly wrong. You had been in a sad rut since then. Many times tears welled up in your eyes thinking about the time you spent with them.

First three days you spent thinking about how you had been feeling the same way about the two of them. Whatever affection you were feeling for them was, surprisingly, in an equal amount. There was no leaning towards one over the other, it was leaning towards them.

You spent time trying to sort your affections. Two men? How? Is this even right? Are they together? It felt like they were. Was what you did right? Did you get between two people?

But then you slipped back into the dark thoughts not being loveable. Your mind went into overthinking how your past relationships made no attempt in exactly loving you. You aren’t just an arc of rainbow but you are also the rain. They only loved the rainbow.

You had spent two weeks mulling over your idea of love as well. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe you are looking for a broken love. But how could you not? You have become a broken person. You had become this shell of a love that kept on giving but received nothing in return.

It was Saturday and you were sitting in your favourite cafe, working on your laptop. Your table was littered with your heavily sweetened drinks. You might've been on your tenth cup, or that's what you assumed when you thought you were hallucinating two super soldiers swaggering towards you.

“Hey Angel.” Bucky’s dazzling smile was blinding you and your eyes were dry as is.

Bucky’s smooth voice was pulling you more into your dreamland. More like, you had been so stressed and sleep deprived that everything looked like a hallucination.

“Angel, are you okay? Your eyes are very glassy.” Steve crouched down to look at your eyes better. His heart wrenched at the sight of the redness of them and heavy bags under your eyes.

“Buck, I don't think she’s well. Maybe we should take her back to her place and talk to her next time.” Steve was getting very worried about you.

“I'm fine. Nothings wrong. I just…” and you were about to topple off the chair when Steve caught you by your shoulder and leaned you against him.

“Ok, that's it. Buck, grab her things and find her keys, we're taking her home.”

Your eyes were glassy but you distinctly remember Steve picking you up and Bucky smoothing out your hair from your face before they got walking.

Once they reached your apartment, Bucky carried you and your things while Steve had rushed to open your door. Bucky walked in and went straight for your bedroom and laid you down. You tried to get up to change but he just pushed you back on the bed.

“Please. I wanna change. Very uncomfortable.” You were feeling delirious.

“Angel, I don't want you falling.” Bucky held your waist as you made your way to grab your comfiest pjs.

“What are you doing, Angel? Get back to bed.” Steve walked in the bedroom to check up on you but seeing you walking around with Bucky supporting you concerned him.

“Let go. Gotta change.” You wriggled your way out of Bucky’s arms and stumbled into the bathroom, locking it.

“Angel, did you just lock the bathroom? You'll fall down. How are we supposed to help you?” Steve knocked on the door to make sure you’re fine.

“You're supers, you can break in.” You called out from the bathroom. You washed your face and finished your business. You stumbled a little but managed to grab onto the doorknob. You twisted it and stumbled out in the waiting arms of two super soldiers.

“Alright, Angel. Let's go to bed.” Bucky tucked you in the middle of the bed, making sure you have no way of getting up.

The two men were about to leave your room when your soft whisper traveled through the room. “Please don't go.”

Your small plea made them weak in the knees and they almost fell to their feet. You were definitely looking like an angel, laying on your bed with glassy eyes. They took off their shoes and got in the bed, one side each.

Their jeans brushed against your thighs and so you got a bit more aware. You pouted at Bucky and asked them to remove their jeans and shirts because they were making you uncomfortable.

They were shocked by it but did what you asked anyway. They were now laying beside you in just their briefs. You shuffled and turned to Steve who was looking at you just like you had always wished for and so was Bucky.

You put your hands on their cheeks and brushed your thumbs against their cheeks. “Please look at me just like that.” Your hands slipped down and you snuggled into the pillow, falling asleep in the warmth of two men who have been haunting your dreams.

……………………..

Bucky and Steve stayed right where you had asked them to. Tears slipped out of Bucky’s eyes.

“This is because of us, isn't it? We are the reason why she's exhausted. We hurt our Angel. We waited way too long.” Bucky wiped his face but the lump in his throat was there to stay.

“But we're here now. We will make it right. We will take care of her. We will never hurt our Angel again.” Steve brushed some stray hair out of your face.

You shuffled in your sleep and snuggled into Steve who immediately wrapped his arms around you and shoved you deeper in his chest.

“She feels so good, Buck. I don't want to let her go.”

“We don't have to. We will go down on our knees to win her if we have to.”

Although they wanted to stay in bed with you till you wake up, they wanted to clean your apartment for you. So they both slowly got up from bed and were about to slip out when a few laminated papers caught their eyes.

They both walked to look at what it was and their mouths stayed agape. Those were the pressed roses. The same roses that they had gotten her. The roses still looked fresh and pink but pressed. Two roses had Bucky’s name on them and the other two had Steve’s.

“Every time we think she’s human, she does something that makes us think she's an angel.” Bucky walked back to bed and kissed your temple. Steve also kissed your temple before they slipped out of the room and took over the cleaning.

While Steve was cleaning the house, Bucky went to the kitchen to cook a fantastic meal for all. He had noticed your sweet tooth for chocolate so he also decided to make chocolate muffins. You surprisingly had all the ingredients for baking but not much for cooking. Bucky sent Steve to buy ingredients to make lasagna and till then he whipped up cupcake batter.

Bucky occasionally went to your room to check how you were doing. You shifted from one side to another but overall you were sleeping peacefully. Bucky was still only in his briefs and your cute pink apron.

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked around. You knew that it was too good to be true. You must've walked home and went to sleep. Why would they come here? You gave them nothing but grief and made them feel like you were a prize to be won which was untrue. You weren't a prize, never have been.

A smell of vanilla and chocolate hit your senses and you panicked. Who the hell is in your apartment? You tumbled out of the bed and ran in the kitchen to find a very beefy back staring back at you.

“Angel! You're up!” Bucky turned around and gave you a heart-stopping smile.

“Bu- James! What are you doing here?” You were flabbergasted.

“Angel, call me Bucky. I've told you before.” He put the tray in the oven and set the timer.

“But-”

Bucky walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “Call me Bucky, Angel.”

“Bucky,” you gulped and your voice softened. “What are you doing here? And, um, is it… is it just you?” Your eyes were wide with curiosity and somewhere, at the back of them, hurt.

“Nope, not alone. Steve has gone grocery shopping for lasagna and I think I also told him to bring pizza with him.” Bucky cupped your face. “You asked us to stay, Angel and we weren't going to leave. We came to talk.”

You pried yourself out of Bucky’s arms and stood at a distance. “I- ok, well, once Steve is back, you both can leave. Sorry for all the inconvenience i caused. You don't have to do anything.”

“Angel, what-”

“I'm back! I got the pizza! Lets wake up Angel and get her to eat and-” Steve sensed a tense situation.

“She wants us to leave.” Bucky’s voice had turned into a whisper.

“What?! No! Angel, no! I- we don't want to go. We want to stay, talk.” Steve just started to beg.

“Why? You don't like me, I'm just a burden. Whatever happened to me today is my problem, not yours. Sorry for troubling you but you don't have to be polite. I'll manage.”

You had withdrawn yourself completely. You didn't deserve whatever they were giving you. You shouldn't be getting between them. You shouldn't even think about them. They deserve better than anybody but you.

“Angel? Baby? What are you talking about?” Steve walked closer to you, trapping you between him, Bucky and the wall.

“I'm just telling the truth. You don't have to take care of me. I dont des- you don't need to do this. Don't be gentlemanly. I appreciate you bringing me home but I've been a burden enough. I don't want you to feel obligated about anything.” You were fidgeting with your oversized t-shirt, unable to look them in the eyes.

“There is no obligation, Angel.” Bucky came closer and moved hair strands out of my face.

“You're not a burden. Why would you think that?” Steve put his hand on my shoulder and rubbed his thumb against my clavicle.

“It is true. Otherwise I wouldn't have put the two of you in any of those awkward positions on that day. You accepted because you expected a normal day out and I ended up making you do things against your will.” Tears ran down your cheeks as you looked at Steve. “You were right, Steve, I am looking for a broken love because that's what I deserve.”

Steve’s heart broke hearing you say that and Bucky’s eyes welled up. They had sent you off to the deep end without even realizing. They should've come to you sooner.

Steve and Bucky dragged you back to your room because you were hysterically crying, unable to breathe. They wrapped you up in your blanket. Both of them moved to each side of you and pulled you closer with your back resting on Bucky’s chest and your head resting on Steve’s.

“Angel, if you would please give us a chance to talk. We have a lot to say and it's not what you think. Will you listen?” Bucky asked the question in such a whispered voice, you couldn't help but nod your head against Steve’s chest. Your breathing had calmed down and their touch was very soothing.

“First of all, you are not a burden and you don't deserve broken love. We just- we got jealous.” Steve started putting sentences together. “Bucky held off his jealousy but I couldn't. It made me think that you had a better shot with someone else and my imagination started running wild.”

“Steve thought, and I did too even if I didn't say it out loud, that if someone else had accepted your email request then you would have picked them over us. That idea didn't sit well with us. We wanted you all to ourselves.” Bucky continued.

You sat up straight and looked at them. “But why would you get jealous?”

“Because, Angel, we fell in love with you.” Steve’s confession stopped your heart. You looked at Bucky with wide eyes expecting it to be a joke but the soft smile on his face and a nod told you it wasn't.

“We had accepted your request because it gave us a chance to experience a romantic relationship for one day without strings and expectations. That's what we thought till we actually met you.” Bucky looked at you adoringly.

“We saw you the first time and we thought what we felt was infatuation. But as the day went on, we drowned in your smile, in your laughter and all the little things you did.” Steve moved hair out of my face. “The first time we realized we were falling in love, it was at the park when we sat together. That entire time felt so… domestic, homey.”

“All that time falling in love with you, we forgot you still thought what was going on was fake.” Bucky intertwined your fingers with his. “So when you talked very casually about things, Steve got pissed and said things he shouldn't have.”

“I'm so sorry, Angel. I was being an idiot. I had never felt this way before. So at home with someone and it pissed me off that someone else could've had my home. I got jealous and I got possessive.”

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and Bucky did the same. “We're very sorry, Angel. Please forgive us.”

“But should I say sorry?” You slowly pull away to look at them. “I played with your feelings, didn't i? I should be apologizing for making you think that it was real.”

“So, it wasn't real?” Just one look in their eyes and you knew you had broken their hearts in a million pieces.

“It was! For me it was but I thought you thought I played you and I kinda did if we look at the semantics.” You started to ramble. You wanted to fix whatever this was.

“Angel, if it was real for you and if it was real for us then that means you haven't played us.” Bucky pushed their actual agenda forward. “And even if you were playing with us, which you werent, it would have been a privilege to be played by our angel.”

“Our?” You had been hearing them mentioned as theirs, not Bucky’s or Steve’s but theirs.

“That's what we actually wanted to talk about.” Steve sat up straight. It was time to ask you what they have been meaning to ask. “We have been talking about this, adjusting to this new… idea. We thought it was wrong at first but one of our dear friends helped us figure things out.”

“He means Natasha. Black Widow. Blond hair, murderous eyes, kinda okay face.” Bucky started giving you the context.

“I know who she is and she's hot. Don't put her down like that.” You used to have a crush on her before it had drifted off but you didn't need to tell them that.

“What? I-”

“Buck, not the time.” Steve put his hand on Bucky’s chest to stop him. “Back to the point. We thought hard and we only thought of you-”

“Gross.” You made a playful face that earned a chuckle from Bucky and an eye roll from Steve.

Steve pulled you closer to his body, causing you to yelp in surprise. Then you felt a pressure on your back and saw Bucky leaning his entire self on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“We want you to be with us, Angel. Just us three and no one else.” Steve’s chest rumbled with confession and you found yourself blushing. “Would you like that? Being with us? You, me and Bucky?”

“None of that is going to happen if I die under the weight of an old metal person.” You groaned playfully and tried to shove Bucky over, only for him roll on you entirely, crushing you against Steve.

“Bubye Steve. This is the end of the line for me. I'll see you on the other side.” Your muffled speech could be heard through your groans. “Write on my tombstone. Death by Bucky, a heavy cuddler who wouldn't leave his girlfriend room to breathe.”

Hearing you say the last line. They both sprang up and looked at you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you just say you're our girlfriend?” Bucky asked excitedly. If they had tails, it would've wagged itself off their asses.

You rolled your eyes at them and smiled widely with blush creeping up your cheeks. “Yes.”

They both attacked you in a hug and made sure to leave you room to breathe. You couldn't help but giggle and laugh at their excitement.

“We promise not to mess things up this bad.” Steve kissed your temple.

“But I do want to see the list of men whom you sent the emails to. Gotta know whom to brag against.” Bucky pulled you closer to his chest and kissed the crook of your neck, making you shiver.

All three of you got up from the bed and made your way to the kitchen because your stomach wouldn't stop making rumbling noises.

Once they had fed you well, their words, not yours, all three of you chose to cuddle back in your bed to watch one of the many rom-coms that were your favourites. You looked at both of your sides to see them intensely watching what made you happy.

“Hey guys,” you said, making them look at you. “Thank you so much for looking at me like that.”

“Always, Angel. Forever and always.”

[langfield]

Why ship langfield? Not judging, just curious.

there are many reasons! if it helps, i wasn’t expecting to ship them either … i was much more into amanda or gwen as romance options, or as people max could pine after. but i’ve realized pretty quickly after my first playthrough that my initial strong distaste of vinh was more so due to the lis fandom’s very, very old desire to make out every man in the first game as some stalker incel rather than anything concrete. and after replaying the first game only a couple days ago, i was only proven right -- warren, another one of max’s old love interest, recieved similar harsh treatment by fans for years. he became so weighed down by the fandom’s extremely unfavorable and biased view of him that it was almost shocking to see how he actually was in game. he wasn’t a pervert or an incel or even a stalker ( unlike, for example, eliot in bts ) … he was a boy who had a crush and was nothing but respectful to max about it, loyal to her even when he knew she didn’t care for him that way, and never asking for anything more. all of this is to say that max’s male love interests have always been treated like ‘creeps’ by default, due to a majority of the fandom wanting everyone else to prioritize their ship instead, a phenomenon which worked in pricefield’s favor for years and years. they pushed warren fans out, they killed that ship via falsehoods and criticism, and that’s just how things were.

once i started to warm up to vinh, which instinctively made me drop my old reservations towards male love interests for max, i realized pretty quickly this would not only be the highlight of the game for me, but also my otp of lis overall. for starters, i enjoy that he is very flawed and complicated! i like characters that aren’t easy to understand upon first viewing, ones that need some elbow grease to fully comprehend … and vinh lang is, in my opinion, someone who needs to be unraveled and exposed ; he’s a man whose initial ego and arrogance is nothing but a shield and a persona, a mask, and the real version of him is buried deep beneath those faux attitudes and expensive attire. lis wasn’t being subtle when they made vinh an actor, considering rachel’s whole thing was acting too : with the gist of her entire character being a variety of masks and costumes and airs. she is incomprehensible on the surface, almost incoherent in her actions, but one thing that’s crystal clear to the player is that she is a girl who’s deeply in pain, and is wary of exposing said wounds and hurt to others for valid reasons. while rachel and vinh don’t have many parallels, they do share the ‘star dazzling actor’ thing, and thus … vinh lang, president of the abraxas secret society and administrative assistant to yasmin, is hardly a real person at all. he is a concept, mostly. something the undergrads can worship and some sort of otherworldy keeper of secrets -- his ‘mysterious’ side is a purposefully constructed wall that keeps people out, much like safi and ( at this point in her life ) max herself. besides his association with his own secret club, vinh isn’t really close to anybody anymore. i doubt it’s common knowledge that vinh came from nothing and had to work his way through an impoverished future, that his parents own a liquor store he was potentially doomed to slave away at despite graduating from caledon. and even more importantly, not many people seem to know that he was some follower of maya’s and safi’s dynamic ; described literally as a lost puppy following them around, directionless and perhaps smitten. hell, if you told anyone that vinh kept photos of safi in his phone and slept with her once or twice, they’d think you’re crazy. vinh lang isn’t known for being sentimental or particularly attached to anything except his arcane and mystery, much less genuinely caring for other people … his love for others is easily given away and taken back, with many of the abraxas kids ( including reggie, to a degree ) going back and forth on whether he loves them, or if they hate him, or if it’s all the above. his personhood is lost in translation, misconstrued, everything he posts or does detached in some manner. and i find that fascinating!

( my partner said that they don’t think vinh has ever outgrown his otherness, that he still feels like he doesn’t belong at caledon naturally, so he keeps up an act at all times to seem as though it’s his natural habitat instead -- like he rules it effortlessly, without doubt or insecurity, as if it’s always been his playground and not some scary, foreign planet. and i think this is very apt for his character )

amanda is endearing in her own way too, of course! even when she lost my favor in the romance department, i still found myself enjoying her company and wanting her around. but … she is a bit too healthy for me, honestly. is too put together and seems to be following life via her therapist’s advice at all times. it’s not bad, per se, but it isn’t up my alley! while i deeply respect amanda for putting her and max on ice twice, for knowing that was the right call to make for her own comfort, i also think it’s a bit unfair too. i don’t think i want max to be stuck waiting around for someone while crushed by the knowledge that her powers are a problem, especially when this can already prove to be an issue with chloe as well. it’s sort of a tender, bruised baggage piece already ; she has never loved her power nor has made proper peace with it, always viewing it as a curse or something she must accept for a greater good, it has killed her most cherished loved one or has leveled an entire town full of poor souls, and it is undeniably frightening, even to max. she is sort of insecure about it, a little uneasy, as is safi, and even alex from true colors. they are not proud of it! safi’s delusion towards the end of the game sounds like someone who so desperately wants to believe their powers are something other than destructive and life ruining … and max laments multiple times about how hers has only caused her heartbreak and death. while it’s understandable that amanda needs space to think on it, i also believe max deserves to be accepted readily and without thought. this isn’t exactly easy for her either, and i think amanda has been taught to always prioritize herself over other people … a fair lesson to carry, certainly, but this leaves max aching and unsure in turn. i don’t want her to be responsible for winning amanda back! i do not think she should have to, when she’s still fragile and vulnerable herself ; having been flayed open by safi and previous triggers, spending most of the storm trapped within her own personal hell, brought down again and again, without help or assistance. i usually go with a max who sacrifices chloe too, which adds to this profound sense of loneliness ghosting over her like a kiss she never got. as someone who loves her dearly, i want max caulfield to have someone who sees her power and doesn’t shy away from it, who embraces it, and every jagged, ugly piece of her too. who doesn’t care about the mess at her feet. who would help her clean it up, their own issues be damned. but also someone who wouldn’t abuse it or try to control it, or even really ask for something from max power-wise.

vinh lang, in my eyes, is that kind of person. him writing that post on crosstalk about how max saved him and how badly he hopes she keeps him around … the way he so eagerly hugs her in the aftermath, without one doubt in his mind, after missing her wholeheartedly ever since they parted ways -- after he sends her text after text, scared, nudging her gently, wanting her assurance and quietly exposing every raw nerve in the meantime, something that we know is very hard for him to do … and he doesn’t say anything about their kiss, nor does he admit his hopes out loud ( perhaps frightened to do so, when he’s clung to things that didn’t want him before ), but he cheekily comments on new horizons while staring at her fondly, full to the brim with yearning. looked at max when she told him to focus on the present as if she was his answer to that. he clings to her! and max notoriously loves clingy people, i mean, look at chloe and warren. everything between vinh and max is passionate but light, breezy, something fun and uplifting yet still earnest. it is not some burdensome weight they are crumbling under, or some poisonous addiction that has them coming back for seconds, because they can’t imagine anything else -- don’t know anything else outside of that good-awful feeling. i like when my ships are intense but emotionally healing, if that makes sense? i don’t want them to hurt each other, and i don’t think they will ; or, if they do, i believe vinh and max could smooth it over, fix it, would want to, which is new for vinh ( because safi never cared about him ) and max ( who’s too used to being the one fixing everything and anything, with barely anyone returning that favor ). plus, on a more lighthearted and stupid note, their scenes are absolutely choked with tension. vinh isn’t making shit up when he says they have barely contained sexual chemistry, honestly! their smash or pass scene had me giggling, kicking my feet, and twirling my hair because it was so shockingly good. i haven’t had a scene do that to me in a long time, so i’m more than a little charmed by these two because of it. who doesn’t want max to have a man who would bow to her if she told him to? or, in this case, a man who would cradle her hands so lovingly between his and ask so desperately if she really has to go, if she has to leave him, the unspoken please stay haunting the sudden chasm of space between them. but, unlike chloe, vinh isn’t angry when max does things he doesn’t like, and will let her go without much fuss. i like that! he will sulk, sure, but max isn’t punished or reminded of her many failings.

there is many more things to discuss, many more reasons why i ship them, why their dynamic works and why it entrances me, but i’ll leave it here for now. i’m still figuring them out myself, after all. though i’ll link this ramble i did here, as a fun little aside. enjoy! and thanks so much for the chance to gush about these two, even if just for a little bit.

[soft-pine]

1.14 nightmare // cn discussion of domestic violence and suicide

what an aptly named episode. this is one of the most upsetting episodes of the whole show for me. while it touches on themes that i love - what if the monster was family - the way it handles ms miller is deeply uncomfortable. and max's story is just downright awful.

i do find it interesting that this is the second time this season where dean is arguing that they have to stop someone even if they happen to be human. while sam is vehemently insisting that them being "human" means they have to take another approach.

the first is in faith:

DEAN: Sam the guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book. SAM: No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is.

and then again here:

SAM: Dean. He's a person. We can talk to him. 

i've said and i'll say again that dean understands that monstrosity is the result of actions and choices not something intrinsic. i think sam sees monstrosity and humanity as more of an intrinsic dichotomy and that's one reason he struggles so much in season 2. anyway.

but really what i want to talk about is ms miller. and how clear it is that she is also a victim of domestic violence. i understand, deeply, why max is so angry with her and why he sees her as an extension and enabler of his abusers. but i simply cannot fathom a world where max is experiencing the torrential abuse he's suffering where those people are not also harming ms miller deeply.

max accuses her, "You didn't do anything. You didn't stop them, not once!" their old neighbor says, "the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him." the neighbor's claim always strikes me as a remarkably cruel reading of someone who is clearly also suffering and likely dissociating. like idk man of course i think adults have responsibility in situations like this (and i do appreciate the nod to the cops being useless) but like... "the worst part" THE WORST PART was the stepmother. i kinda feel like the worst part was the abuse, no?

but the upshot of it all is that ms miller's implied abuse seems like it has no witnesses. and that's of interest to me because of some interactions we've already dealt with in season 1.

in 1.03, we get this exchange:

DEAN: ... all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. SAM: How do you do it? How does Dad do it?

then this in 1.08:

SAM: Remind you of somebody? Dad? DEAN: Dad never treated us like that. SAM: Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. You don't remember?

and at the end of 1.14, sam says:

SAM: Well I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad. DEAN: Well I never thought I'd hear you say that. SAM: Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. I little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.

listen, i would never argue that john winchester didn't abuse sam. but i think it's interesting that though sam is critical of john's parenting and though he has complaints about how john treated him, he doesn't seem to think john treated dean poorly.

which, we just simply know he did. we know it because john does it in 1.09, 1.12, 1.20, 1.21. and because we're told he did in 1.18, 1.22, 2.01, 4.19, 9.07, 14.11, 14.12, 15.20, i mean i could go on.

and not that i have to filter everything through season 14 episode 12 prophet and loss. but i will. because it very clearly lays out how 1. dean was forced into the role of keeping the peace and 2. john would treat dean badly in ways dean wasn't sure sam was witnessing.

DEAN: I know things got dicey… you know, with dad… the way he was. And I just… I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should’ve. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit. Sometimes when I was… when I was away, you know it wasn’t ‘cause I just ran out, right? Dad would… he would send me away when I really pissed him off. I think you knew that.

the uncertainty behind, "i think you knew that." ough.

but bad boys goes even farther here:

SAM: Hey, Dean ... I mean, why didn't you just tell me you went to a boys' home? DEAN: I don't know. Uh, it was Dad's idea. And then it just – you know, the story became the story. I was 16.

john told dean to lie to sam about what was happening to him.

so what does this all mean in an episode where dean is somewhat mirrored to and protective of the allegedly bystanding stepmother?

that abuse is shitty, cruel, secretive, and protects itself by pitting its victims against each other.

i don't know i wish i had something a bit clearer to say than all this. but it's just sad.

[the-french-laundry]

The Problem with Claire Bear (and how to fix it in S4 without making Clairmy endgame)

This critic is focusing on the writing and is not meant to be an attack against the actress in any way! Also this is my personal opinion.

I must confess, that i am relatively new to the fandom, but 'the Bear' has a chokehold on me for a couple of weeks now. The way it has so many different characters and tries to explore their personalities, their shortcomings, their problems and anxiety, hooked me from the start and i loved to see how they developed over the three Seasons, we have now. But then there's Claire. And she just doesn't work at all.

The number thing and Claire accepting anything

When she first appeared in the supermarket and had that talk with Carmen Berzatto, i couldn't shake off the feeling that this whole scene was very awkward and almost non-human. Of course, we know that Carmen can be socially awkward and seeing his old childhood friend, which he ghosted, is a weird situation for a lot of people. Given his own difficulties to deal with situations like that, it makes sense why he gave her a fake number. I know, she asked multiple times if it is okay, but the whole number thing is a clear sign that he is either avoiding contact, because he doesn't feel ready enough to deal with a past relationship or that, deep down, he doesn't actually want it and uses it as an excuse so that he doesn't have to say it out loud.

Seriously, if i would've been Claire, that would be a RED FLAG for me and i'd stop trying to force any contact. But the script wanted a romance, so it literally made Claire an all forgiving person. She just takes Carmen's bullshit and never truly questions it or tries to make him question those things. She always reassures him, that he's doing good and all, which is supportive and cute, but it doesn't help Carmy's broken personality in any way. It never questions, it never tackles his character to move past this. And in the end, it doesn't help Claire too because this relationship feels very one-sided. She's always there for him, tries to keep the contact, supports him, confesses her love first (even though if it was via voicemail), but Carmy isn't able to give it back to Claire in any form.

Claire got no personality

This is very obvious, but it needs to be said. The script gave Claire nothing to create an interesting or engaging personality. After i finished Season 3 i did a small recap in my head and all i could say about her is: She was Carmy's girlfriend and she is working as a doctor. That's all. And it made me bonkers somehow, because 'The Bear' has so many well-written female characters - Sydney, Tina, Natalie, Donna, Chef Terry. Even Jessica and Tiff, without having much screentime, had more developed character traits that made them stand out. But the script is not able to give Claire something that would make her more than just Carmy's forced relationship!? We rarely see, why she even has this crush on him - maybe due to their childhood friendship, any special moments they'd shared in the past before they met again at the supermarket? No, nothing and i think this is sad. Because with all that, Claire becomes a character, that can be easily written out of the script, without leaving a hole in the story.

Carmen would still have his New York David Fields trauma, mixed with the death of his brother Michael, he would still pressure himself. The rest could be easily explained through the dynamic he has with Sydney and the team - the fear of letting them down, of being not good enough, of not deserving happiness at all etc.

An environment of forcing it

Now it gets a little bit personal. When i was younger, i had a best friend, whom i really liked - but just as a friend. At one point however he started to have feelings for me and asked, if we shouldn't just try and see where it gets, which i didn't want out of fear that it might ruin our friendship. A lot of friends we both known at that time, told me multiple times that we would be such a great match, that he really cares for me and we would be cute together. It gaslighted me into the believe that, well... maybe i should just try. Also because i didn't want to disappoint my best friend. In the end, it was a mess and it ruined our friendship. But why am i telling this story? Because Carmy's and Claire's relationship kind of reminds me of that.

The people around Carmy are constantly talking about Claire, about her being a saint and that she is good for him, that they totally match and that he has a crush on her (e.g. in the conversation with Richie and Michael during the Christmas episode). Yet it never really feels like Carmen loves her deeply enough to make a long-term relationship work. He cares for her and likes her, that much is clear, but i feels forced, whenever they share moments together - not from Claire's side, but from Carmy's side. As if he always has to reassure himself, that he indeed loves Claire. And my theory about his flashbacks of their time together, is that it is more because of his own guilt. He never wanted to hurt Claire and he understands that what he said was deeply painful to her. Confessing that to himself is hard and an apology is needed. But i don't think it would be good if they straight up reset their whole relationship.

What can S4 do to save this mess?

The apology is a big thing that is in fact needed. To jump over his own shadow and to find piece for himself and for Claire, Carmen needs to apologize to her. By talking about what happen and recognizing how bad he'd treated her during the walk-in freezer incident, he also gives her the chance to close that case for herself, so that she doesn't think it was her own fault and therefore she can move on with her life. But it would also make sense that Carmen reflects if he really loves her as deep as he thought he would. In my opinion, the script didn't give us enough to undermine the argument that he does. So looking at that, it would be great to see how he confesses to her, how he'd always thought they were meant to be, but in the end his feelings were not enough for that to happen, that he got carried away by the expectations of those around him and his own anxiety. And maybe we learn, that Claire experienced something similar to that, realizing that they could've been great friends but weren't meant to be more.

Even though i don't like the character of Claire, given the fact that she is in the series now, it would only be fair to close her character arc with an apology and a wholesome conclusion for both her and Carmy before they part ways.

-

Thanks for coming to my short TED Talk. Feel free to tell me your thoughts or add the things i might've missed.

[joyride-time]

Why’d Gil Snitch On Tarvek: Theories

Gil inherited a few things from Klaus. One of them is a tendency to avoid expositing. Among other things, he’s very closemouthed about his childhood. Because of this, we don’t know much about Gil as a kid or his mindset from Gil himself.

So why did he snitch on Tarvek about his intel stash and believe Klaus was right about him for over a decade? Some theories:

1. He’s Just Not That Into Him Theory

Why does Gil refuse to believe Agatha is the Other, but decide his father is right about Tarvek when they got caught looking for Gil’s family tree? Occam’s Razor (that thing can cut through anything!): Gil didn’t like Tarvek as much as he likes Agatha.

It’s hard to disprove it because there's no one else to scale Gil's relationships with back then except Von Pinn and Klaus, whose relationship with Gil is totally different. Gil didn’t know Agatha as long as he knew Tarvek at those points, but you can like someone you don’t know. Nothing requires Gil to have liked Tarvek as much as Agatha. Tarvek was Gil’s best friend… out of zero other friends. How much does Gil have to like and trust Tarvek to recruit him for the family tree search? Who knows. Tarvek is the one who cracked the safe in the flashback, and we don’t know if Gil could do that himself back then. The information they were searching for was something Gil probably wanted to tell everyone anyways. And they have their Paris interactions to get to know each other better in the future.

2. Klaus-Gil Dynamic Swing Theory

Klaus is always right… that’s something Gil doesn’t seem to have questioned before he discovers Klaus’ mistake with Agatha. At seven years old, Gil trusts Klaus’ judgment more than his own. At twenty-two years old, Gil is more critical of taking everything Klaus says at face value. He’s also got a whole decade of change and growth behind him. In Book 2 Gil and Theo have this exchange: “You sounded just like the Gil I grew up with.” “I’m not,” Gil said flatly. “Too many things have changed. I’ll never be that person again.” He smiled and punched Theo in the arm. “But I can remember the important bits.”

So it's a different Gil making different judgment calls.

3. Suspicious Sturmvoraus Theory

It’s Tarvek. Even when they’re on better terms Gil (and Agatha) are suspicious about him working at multiple purposes. Tarvek initially approached Gil to make him his minion at the age of seven. Tarvek also thinks that Klaus told Gil about Tarvek’s family, so Tarvek himself may have told Gil very little about them, or censored what he did share. If so, having a sudden info dump about their many sins probably didn’t help anything. We also don’t know what kind of schemes Tarvek got into where Gil could see them, but Gil does know that he got a secret hiding spot. And that he’s extremely good at lying. So he looked at Tarvek and decided yeah, he's probably lying to him.

4. Trust Issues Theory

Before Tarvek, Gil had really poor relationships with his peers. Or at least, any positive ones he used to have were broken off. Present day Gil is a very friendly guy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Gil tried to make friends… maybe even succeeded… and then they fell apart. If so, it wouldn’t be strange if part of Gil was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something made Gil want to custom-build his own, very dependent friend construct. Definitely not a surfeit of healthy relationships with his peers.

5. Perceived Vulnerability Theory

Agatha needs protection from what Gil can see in the first arc. She’s a female Spark in an Europa where they all disappear if not well-protected. He meets her at one of her lowest points and works to build her up. Their second meeting had him pluck her from her house after she got sedated. She gets more dangerous afterwards, but Klaus does a poor job at explaining things and is very clear that leveling the town she's in to kill her is an option. Tarvek is a prince and the son of a powerful Spark, on a ship where both qualities are enormously important to their peers. They may be hostages but neither felt very endangered by it. Book 4 also states that Gil had “done his best at the time to get Tarvek sent away”, which could just be referring to ratting him out, but could also be a sign that Klaus’ first impulse was not to send Tarvek back to his family, which makes Tarvek seem even less in danger. Gil thinks if he sides against Tarvek Tarvek will just get sent back home, where he’ll continue to be a prince… and how bad can that be? Whereas with Agatha he saw a little fledgling who was going to be someone’s personal property fighting hard to avoid that. They're very different perspectives.

I'm curious what other people's theories are, so please share if you feel like it.

[sourslip]

man getting to the end of act 1 I can't stop thinking about what things are gonna be like for Vi with everything happening as she goes thru her emo pit-fighter phase. when she got out of Stillwater, she was fueled by one goal- protect/save Powder. She ofc had a want for revenge against Silco, but I think especially with the last episode in S1 it was pretty clear to me at least that she had her priorities pretty straight on that front: Pow first, Silco second.

there was also a very clear pattern of Vi being unable to really, meaningfully adjust to how things had changed in the time she was away: most obvious is how her sister changed and Vi treating her as one-dimensional post-Stillwater (she wasn't just surprised by Jinx's joy committing violence in the S1E6 end fight with the Firelights, she was convinced that wasn't her sister but something Silco imposed on her Powder), and to an extent also with a lot of the Undercity starting to get behind aspirations of independence. And I think this season is shaping up to make that second point more important

Vi has a good heart like Vander said, and she of course was pointing out how much worse life got for people in the Undercity with shimmer and the Chembarons pulling the strings - and that is very much true and Ekko + the Firelights make a good contrast - but I think about how Vi told Vander "I grew up knowing that I'm less than them, that my place is down there. I want Powder to have more than that" and it sounds very much like Vi's internalized a lot of how Topsiders view the relationship between topside and the undercity, but that isn't how most people in the "present" see it in the Undercity.

Whether its Silco, Sevika, the other Chembarons, or Ekko and the Firelights, they don't have shame about being undercity. they don't see themselves as less than topside - they know topside thinks that and hate that, especially Silco, but that's not the same as believing it. I don't mean to say Vi admires topside or doesn't love the undercity she grew up in, but I think there's more than just "having a good heart" that made her focus more on the harm Silco was doing than seeing the potential for independence, and I think it has to do with her sense of identity as a person from the Undercity being stuck in the past

Vander made a choice to "keep the peace" between topside and bottom, but violence is a spectrum and the slow, small, casual violence of class inequality (particularly with environmental classism) the idea that what he's protecting is really is peace as in non-violence is very much open to challenge. what he did protect in effect was a power dynamic between the two - Greyson treated Vander as a leader, but it was clear she expected him to capitulate to the demands of topside. And Vander had to give something.

When Vi tried to take on that responsibility herself, she had a major moment of growth where the true weight of potential violence and conflict hit her and we saw her take on a more tempered protective role, but I think we also saw that view of "Topside/bottom" really crystallize - and she kept that all through Stillwater even when, outside prison, more people in the fissures started to see it as "Piltover and Zaun", not in a hierarchy, but actually separate. Piltover's condescension towards the Undercity wasn't internalized by everyone in the Undercity once Vi got out, it was just a reflection of their arrogance and was getting in the way of them respecting a distinct people that had an incredible ingenuity, its own economies, and its own political systems. Silco having Marcus under his thumb was big organized crime vibes yes, but it was also a reversal of the relationship between Vander and Greyson, and in a way it reflected the changing priorities and national identities of the people in the Undercity; from oppressed and resentful fissure folk, to political adversaries of topside actively involved in pushing for their own independence, and fighting for what they built

I think, as this season its shaping up to look like Jinx is being thrust into the revolutionary role, and the previews of the next act look like that's actually starting to matter to her - or she's now seeing what it means moreso than she did when Silco was around. the lady liberty French revolution painting pose from French animation studio Fortiche Jinx flag part in the intro with the realization/wonder/reverence in her expression makes me think she's now going to take on a leadership mantle that Vi thought she would assume as Vander's protegé, and it means that she won't just be a "loose cannon" throwing a wrench in political machinations anymore, she'll be an intentional, calculating player on the field.

I think S2 act 1 Vi was okay with killing Jinx only because her idea of Powder was like her idea of the undercity - stagnated in the past and ultimately one-dimensional with its inflexibility. but if she starts to see that the people of the undercity aren't just a hurt people rushing into war like she wanted to when she was a kid, but have become a nation with its own identity seeking sovereignty, and if she sees that Jinx now take up that mantle, I think that might shake her a lot. especially with the kid, Isha, attaching herself to Jinx - like Vi saw how panicked Jinx was that Isha threw herself in harm's way - that shook Vi in a few ways, and one of those i think is that Vi saw herself in Jinx for a moment. she saw a powerful woman accepting the risk to her own life be unwilling to risk the life of another, more vulnerable person that clearly had some care and connection to her. I think that split second Vi really saw her sister. she didn't see who she thinks of as Powder in her, and she didn't see who she thinks of as Jinx, she saw her sister. And I think that's going to shake Vi harder than anything.

the writers I saw said that Vi has always been a protector and the next arc will explore Vi without anyone to protect, and I think we can expect to see Vi to go through some painful realizations that the way she has been seeing things doesn't reflect how things really are now. Caitlyn doesn't need protecting in the way Vi had been protecting her anymore, just with bodily safety, now if anything Cait needs protection from further manipulation, but that's another thing. Jinx doesn't need protection from Silco, and maybe Piltover doesn't need protection from Jinx either if Jinx really does begin to temper into a leader, and anyone else Vi might protect doesn't need the protection Vi was expecting herself to give when she was a kid.

Vi seemed to spend a lot of effort repressing her feelings when it came to people that made her feel safe - she cared SO much about Vander, loved him and looked up to him so much, but didn't want to show it and was gutted when he was gone and she was left without someone to protect her. She then spent a decade in a prison system that had officers intentionally targeting her, so again no protection. she made a joke about Caitlyn being her hero when they were in the Firelight's hideout, but given how vulnerable she was in the Oil & Water bedroom scene, I think she was trying to mask being genuinely touched by how much Caitlyn was looking out for her. she got so uncomfortable she lashed out about her parents being killed by enforcers when Caitlyn healed her stab wound in S1, and I wouldn't be surprised if we see her get uncomfortable about having Loris look out for her now. But I think it might also just be the last straw for having her confront some really complicated feelings about wanting to feel safe but never safe enough to let that happen yes I'm still hurt by S2E3 and the betrayal she prob feels and how she expects people to only want or need her when she can protect them the way she thinks they need her to

[ryssbelle]

My cousins made their own troll Ocs and I drew them in my style.

They were very excited about it

[girlrose]

love that i can make people feel comfortable around me!!!!

[rilinda]

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I didnt know the tags woulr be so much i shouldve just wrote a long vent 😭😭😭 rip

[roaringheat]

I've been having a really hard time lately cause ive been feeling like i'm not wanted or cared about by the ppl around me and it hit me especially hard at work so I took some time after my shift to destress by walking around the shopping center i'm in. I ended up having 2 separate long ass convos with these total strangers, one at a GameStop and one at a pet store and both explicitly told me how much they enjoyed the conversation and that they wanted to see me again. Man....there really is some real shit behind the whole go out and talk to strangers thing