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[woso-dreamzzz]

Movie Night

Courtney Nevin x Reader

Summary: You see your girlfriend

It's not often that you made the drive.

It was nearly three hours from Brighton to Leicester on a good day, nearly four on a bad one so it wasn't something you got into the habit of doing.

A route from hell divided you and your girlfriend. You weren't in one of those relationships that could meet somewhere in the middle. It was all or nothing.

When your contracts ended you had both already decided that you would need to go to the same club. The distance was stressful to both you and Courtney which was probably why you were making the trip.

You had training tomorrow but you had already dropped hints to Vicky that you were feeling sick so calling in would be easy tomorrow. You knew that Courtney had done the same with Aileen.

It wasn't the most responsible or professional thing to do but you couldn't care less when you ran from your car straight into your girlfriend's arms.

You take in a deep breath and relaxed into her familiar warmth and security.

"I missed you," Courtney said softly," So much."

"Missed you too," You said. Your words were muffled and you refused to remove yourself from her safe embrace.

You don't really know how long you spent on her doorstep, in the cold England night, just rocking back and forth, soaking each other in.

"I've got the movies queued up," Courtney whispered in your ear," And snacks. Do you want to head in?"

"You're perfect," You said as she lead you into the house.

Your girlfriend pushed you onto the sofa and bundled up the blankets. She milled around you for a moment before sitting down and pulling your legs into her lap.

They were a little numb from driving nearly three hours without any breaks and you actually moaned when Courtney began to massage you. She knew just where to put the right amounts of pressure and where to let up until you were completely boneless next to her, unable to really do anything but shovel more food into your mouth and stare at the screen in front of you.

You don't know how many movies you watched, you just knew that it was five in the afternoon when you left your house and now it was coming up to three in the morning.

You didn't want to move though, content in your little cocoon of blankets with Courtney's warm body next to you.

You yawned.

"Do you want to head up to bed?" Courtney asked as she readied the next movie (the shared Netflix account was a god send when deciding which movies seemed interesting enough to watch).

"Don't want to move," You grunted before completely contradicting yourself by readjusting your position so your head was in her lap.

Blindly, you reached for Courtney's hand and pulled it onto your head.

She was quick on the uptake and gently scratched at your scalp. The pressure was just right, exactly like the kind of perfect pressure she used on your legs.

"I think we're sleeping down here, huh?" She laughed softly.

"You can keep watching your movies," You said, eyes dropping closed and words slurring with sleep," I'm...I'm just going to take a little nap."

She chuckled and it rocked your body a little. It was a good rocking though and just pushed you deeper into your exhausted haze.

"You can sleep as long as you'd like," Courtney said fondly as her expert fingers continued to massage your head," It's not like we're going to training tomorrow."

[periprose]

Therapy

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky Barnes is your newest patient at your clinic. As a therapist, you know all about having to maintain decency and professional respect with your patients, even when they seem unruly. But Bucky isn't just any ordinary man– he's the top earner of the Russian mafia down in Brighton Beach, and he's temperamental and not really down with therapy. He's only seeing you out of necessity, and the last thing you're expecting is other strange developments in your relationship.

Genre: Deeply inspired by Tony Soprano and Melfi's relationship on the Sopranos, Mafia!Bucky Barnes, not really pro mafia, doctor-patient to friends to lovers, lots of psychology and therapy talk throughout, fluff

Word Count: 8.5k

Bucky waits as the secretary informs him that his therapist will be ready for him soon, and he’s sweating bullets, feeling like a child who’s been told to wait for a punishment from the school principal.

He has absolutely no idea what you’ll be like– he was just recommended a therapist by his physician, because apparently his blood pressure is unfortunately incredibly high for someone his age, and it’s going to become an issue later on if he doesn’t fix it now.

Of course, Bucky knows that stress comes with the job, so no wonder his blood pressure is so high. He can’t exactly be his gang’s boss if he’s having heart palpitations and needing to sit down every few moments when he should be intimidating his enemies and rivals. The Russian mafia requires him to be almost perfect at every instance, so they can keep their riches and luxuries growing. He’s one of their top earners, but this goddamn stress is starting to ruin things for him.

He’s come here under the guise that he’s out repairing his car, even telling his mother and his sister that, and his underlings aren’t going to argue with him regardless of what he says. It’s a good thing this office is in New York, so he didn’t have to travel to anywhere particularly suspicious.

 But Bucky still feels so strange, so unlike himself, feeling both wary and somewhat angry by this situation that he’s in, where the grey carpet and the equally dull pink-grey of the walls makes him feel like he’s trapped. Trapped in this skyscraper, when really he should be down at Sam’s bar, clinking his drink next to Steve’s and watching the sun set on Brighton Beach. 

And he would be, if it wasn’t for the constant, clenched fear in his heart, the pit in his stomach that never seems to go away despite his attempts to fill it with drinks and the women and other vices, and he feels a chill– he wonders if he will ever successfully remove himself from this lifestyle, or if he even wants to. Bucky sometimes believes that it’s more likely he’ll die here.

Bucky thinks for a moment that he should leave. Now, while he still can, because he thinks this appointment is probably pointless.

“Mr. Barnes?” You open your office door, and Bucky sighs and stands up. “Right this way.”

He notices you don’t exactly look how he envisioned. You have a no-nonsense appearance– none of that frilly new age bullshit he was expecting, no crystal bracelets or spiritual tattoos or extra piercings– you have a khaki blazer on and tidy slacks. Your hair is coiffed in a way that says respectable, but you also don’t have the time to try too hard with your looks. Your glasses make you look intelligent, but also scary in how you peer at him.

He follows you into your office– everything is in a cushy shade of brown, from the carpets to the sofa chairs, way up to the wood paneling and shelves surrounding your desk, and the framed certificates displaying your knowledge, and it's immediately more comforting than the outside room. Bucky wonders if that's by design.

He sits down on an armchair, and his fingers, out of their own accord, grip the armrests as if he’s dying. Hell, maybe he is. 

"I've done a little bit of reading on why you're here." You start murmuring over your patient files on your desk as you look for his particular one. "Matt Murdock, Jessica Jones… ah, there it is. James Buchanan Barnes." 

"...Bucky is fine." He clenches his jaw– no one has called him James in literal decades, and he's not going to let some fancy doctor like you start. Bucky barely wants to be here as it is.

"In this office, we have a level of professional respect that needs to be maintained." You correct him gently, not because he did anything wrong, but just as a careful reminder. "I will address you as Mr. Barnes. Is that okay?"

"Sure." Bucky feels tense, waiting for the hour to go by any faster than it currently is. You look at him– not in a way that makes him feel as if he's being sized up, because he'd definitely make a backhanded comment about that– but in a way that articulates some form of curiosity.

It's to Bucky's displeasure that he can't tell whether or not it's just simply the look of a therapist, or if you’re really, truly interested in him. He nods at you– you understand he wants you to get on with it.

“Okay. So you’re here because you’ve been having high blood pressure, and heart palpitations.” You scan over the note written by his physician– scrawled in a hasty cursive– and look back up at him. “You’re in good shape, and you’re a bit too young to be having age-related heart problems.”

“Nice observation, doc.” Bucky retorts, and you half-smile at that– your best patients have always been the snarky ones, and you figure it’s because they have that sense of humour that is sometimes needed for therapy. “Obviously I’m stressed the fuck out.”

“Stressed, Mr. Barnes?” You cross your arms, and sit down in front of him in your own armchair, starting the session legitimately. “And why do you think that it is?”

“I said it was obvious. Aren’t you a doctor? Shouldn’t you be smarter than this?” Bucky shakes his head, wondering why he has to delve into something so clear. “My jobs, doc. They take too much out of me these days– it’s a wonder I don’t just end it.”

You ignore the perceived slight against your intelligence. “Why can’t you end it, Mr. Barnes?”

“...There’s too many people counting on me.” Bucky sighs in exasperation. “My mother, she’s not gonna be able to fend for herself if I’m not bringing in the income– I’ve considered putting her in a home, but she thinks I’m trying to get rid of her– and my baby sister, Rebecca, she’s used to a certain, uh, lifestyle now. It’s not very fair of me to take that away from her.”

Bucky closes his eyes. “That’s not even counting the rest of my family.”

“Your family, or your ‘family?’” You mimic quotation marks, meaning his crime family, and Bucky swallows. “Mr. Barnes, I’d like to remind you. Don’t say anything that would require me to break the patient-doctor confidentiality agreement.”

Bucky takes this to mean that you know what he does for a living, and he’s not stupid– he was never going to get really into that, say anything that would really, truly implicate him, he knows all about the laws around snitching– he just thought to the rest of the world, his reputation wouldn't precede him quite as much.

“Okay. Should I start with where it all began, or just what’s on my mind?” Bucky wrinkles his forehead as he thinks, and you leave the floor open for him to begin wherever he likes.

/

Bucky starts with how his latest “room cleaning” (you assume he’s putting up a front as a janitor) went south, because there are certain stains that you can never get rid of.

“Usually, I’m quick on my feet– I know the rules and laws around disposing of “stains,” and I only have a limited amount of time before the smell starts getting worse and neighbours start asking questions.” Bucky illuminates for you, and you get the feeling stains don’t exactly just mean blood, maybe body disposal or something like that. 

“This time, though?” Bucky continues, and his voice gets raspy, as patients’ often do, when they start elaborating and getting to the difficult parts of their experiences. “Steve asked me what was wrong, why was I frozen in place, and I leaned against the wall, couldn’t say anything.”

“I was feeling that… y’know, that loud sort of thumping–” Bucky suddenly motions to his head, unable to look quite at you, instead feeling the sensation he was describing. “Like a heartbeat, but in my head?”

“Yes. I know what you mean.” You write this down as well. “Those are signs of your heart palpitations– most likely the pressure in your head was induced from a panic attack.”

“Right.” Bucky swallows the lump in his throat. “It was too loud to even keep my eyes open, Jesus– it was scary, I started yelling at Steve and then I… I turned over to the side, and puked.”

“So you’re struggling with maintaining your composure. Letting loose with anger, panic, other aggressive emotions.” You note, and Bucky raises his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, but it’s worse than that. That stuff can be… useful, in my line of work.” Bucky cracks a few of his knuckles. “I can’t exactly do my fucking work if I’m puking up shit, right?”

“Sure. But we’re here to focus on why. On what’s going on with your mental health.” You gently prod him to keep going. 

“My sister, Rebecca, she’s saying she’s gonna go audition for movies.” Bucky explains, with a sideways, sarcastic smirk that has you thinking this guy doesn’t look half bad. “Not adult movies, mind you, doc– I immediately thought that and tried to talk her out of– but real Hollywood productions, something that a New Money socialite like her could potentially get into, for real.”

“Tell me what the conversation was like.”

“Well, Rebecca’s been going to acting classes, and she told me that it was just a hobby. Just something all the other girls in Brighton were doing.” Bucky nonchalantly scratches his cheek, but his jaw clenches as he continues. “But she sat me down, and said ‘Buck, my teacher says I have a real good shot at making it. I know how you feel about this, but I can’t just sit and spend the rest of my life doing nothing.’ Listen, doc, she has a point– I’ve always felt a little bad that Rebecca just sits there, looking pretty. But I didn’t want her to go and do this, and–”

Bucky inhales. “I couldn’t speak to her. I felt dizzy, and I sat down, and I felt like I had to… I had to either run or fight this thing before it got too far.”

“Fight-or-flight.” You affirm, and you point at him with a well-groomed fingernail. “Hm. That sounds like the real issue.” 

Bucky frowns at that.

“Huh?”

“You’re not just afraid of losing your sister– you clearly have a fear of what the future entails. You’re exhibiting symptoms of PTSD.” You clarify, and Bucky shifts around in his seat, wanting more of an explanation. “You’re in a constant state of panic because you don’t know what life will bring you.”

That explanation rings through him, and he’s drawn to a silence. 

“But why now?” Bucky eventually mutters, staring down at the carpet again, this time focusing on a piece of lint that hadn’t been vacuumed. “Isn’t life always uncertain?”

“Well, PTSD is built up because of past trauma. Anything can really induce it again– something that’s triggered you appropriately, whether it be through similar emotions or similar events.” You think that over, and then nod. “It sounds as if you are experiencing a relapse in trauma… perhaps due to the nature of your work, or because the lack of control with Rebecca– possibly leading to a blown cover or her newfound independence– and most likely of all, it could be because you have not let go of those feelings and use them in response to many different situations. It’s not uncommon, Mr. Barnes, to become used to traumatic responses as ‘how it’s supposed to be.’ If it’s all you know, you won’t expect any different until it’s too late.”

Bucky realizes that that’s exactly how he felt when he was sitting in the waiting room. Like all of this was useless, an attempt to fix something that he felt was totally ordinary. If it wasn’t for the extremity of his recent reactions, he would’ve just kept going on like this. 

Something about this revelation pisses him off. 

“I believe we should try to focus on this and work through it.” You check the clock, and then smile professionally at him. “That’s all the time we have for today. Any parting questions, thoughts, ideas?”

Bucky is still silent. He is mulling over the fact that you’ve already seemed to figure him out, at least partially– he wanted more of a challenge, more of something to use against you so he could successfully call therapy a bunch of bullshit. He feels a sense of relief that the hour is over, but also annoyance over the fact that he wants to keep going.

“...Thanks, doc.” Bucky bids you goodbye, and you nod and walk him to the door. 

You feel the animosity in the air, but you know that’s not rare, especially considering who your patient is.

/

Mr. Barnes is terrifying when he glares at you.

His third session had started off with a story about a “coworker” he had to have a talking to, and when you pried just a bit deeper, wanting to know what exactly the coworker had done, he inhaled sharply, and stared you down with those blue-grey eyes. 

You don’t know how to respond to his silence, to his mob boss intimidation tactics. Bucky might be the most difficult patient you’ve had so far, and you do not want to push too far and hurt yourself in the process.

You maintain your poker face, needing to do so to maintain the safe space you have made not just for Bucky, but for yourself. If he ever came forward too quickly, attacked you– it would be the end of your relationship with him.

“Why did you stop speaking, Mr. Barnes?” You break the silence, and Bucky continues to stare you down. “I thought we were getting towards a–”

"You think I'm stupid, huh?" Bucky scoffs at you. "You want me to reveal everything about myself, right? This isn't enough to make me make a fool of myself. Doesn't matter if you keep offering me little platitudes, or if your office is nice and warm, or if you happen to be a very pretty, smart doctor lady. It's not gonna fucking work on me."

You look taken aback for just a moment, and then smile neatly at him. "Wonderful, Mr. Barnes. I think you're making significant progress."

"Really?" Bucky furrows his brows. "You're not gonna tell me I'm rejecting change, or some shit like that?"

"Funny you should mention one of the main pillars of therapy." You bite your lip as you think. “No, this is actually a part of it, is it not? You are formulating a response to the change, which means you are getting results, somewhere inside you. You don’t have to tell me what exactly it is, Mr. Barnes, it’s evident in the way you reject it.”

“God, how do I get you off my back then?”  Bucky sighs and then laughs a little. “Okay, fine, doc. I’m only trying this shit so I can do my work, get it? Don’t try to rehabilitate me.”

“Noted.” You pretend to write that down, but actually write three times three equals nine. Just a random sentence that looks like something important.

You won’t be upfront about this, because you don’t want to scare him away– but therapy is not some sort of quick fix. Rehabilitation will have to be apart of Bucky Barnes’ regime someday, at least as the end result of his therapy, or he’ll never have the mental strength he needs to move on.

Several of your clients have had to build up the right state of mind in order to then remove themselves from the situation. Bucky can’t be any different. 

“Alright. Sorry.” Bucky doesn’t usually apologize, ever, but something about how your eyes– normally so reserved in their emotions– became wide-eyed, slightly fearful of him, made him want to take a step back and stop. “Should I keep going?”

You’re taking a moment, because you want to know why he snapped like that. What exactly did you say? Should you avoid the phrase next time? How do you help Bucky and protect yourself? Is it worth delving deeply into his past, when you risk getting hurt by his tendencies?

Every therapist has this moment, you know that. Some of your colleagues have passed on patients to you when they felt that it was too much for them. And you have an inkling that Bucky is going to be the one to watch for you. 

You think that Bucky doesn’t like when you ask for specifics. Or that he’s getting frustrated that you’re getting to him, so he pushes back– but really, just like you said, if Bucky was truly not being changed by any of this, he wouldn’t be responding at all. You decide to be patient.

“You can keep going if you would like to.” You respond quietly, carefully, and Bucky nods and continues on with his story.

“So the guy– the coworker– he’s been harassing one of my other coworkers, right. And that little guy is pretty wet behind the ears, too young to really stand up for himself.” Bucky is shaking his head in quiet disappointment. “So the second he came too close– did too much that he shouldn’t have done– I ended it.”

“I see.”

“And it’s not that I didn’t want to do it– I did wanna end that particular situation, doc. It was just that the kid wasn’t doing enough to fight back, but after I did it, everything felt…” Bucky trails off, staring at the floor, his eyes beginning to water. “Different. Bad. All this shit I do is for a reason, and I usually… I like it. But the kid started wailing, crying, and for a second, I felt really shit about the whole thing. Like I shouldn’t have gone that far.”

You take a moment to write that down, that Bucky is beginning to feel some semblance of regret.

“But you know what’s crazy, doc? Even though I feel bad about it, I still want to do it. Doesn’t that sound insane?” Bucky swallows, and he looks at you, maybe for comfort, maybe for an explanation. “I can’t stop– I won’t stop. I just need to keep going and stop being such a pussy about it.”

“You’re focusing on the wrong aspect, Mr. Barnes.” You chime in, and he shakes his head, tapping at his arm rest. “Why did you feel bad? What about this younger man had you feeling, well, out of sorts?”

“I told you already, doc, he was screaming and crying and it was just– it was too much.” Bucky repeats, but he feels himself growing smaller, suddenly feeling tiny, just like when he was a young man starting out in this world. “I guess… maybe, just maybe it brought up some bad stuff inside me.”

“Yes, this is the problem. Being in these situations will take a toll on you– even if you still need to do them, Mr. Barnes– and so you’re beginning to feel the memories roll back in. It’s all a part of how you’ve been unintentionally triggering yourself the last few years, I’m guessing, because you can’t simply forget the bad times forever.” You point out to him, and he shuts his eyes.

“Yeah, so I’m a fucking psycho? There’s a whole bunch of things about myself that I don’t even know?” Bucky scoffs at himself, feeling very unmasculine and more like a baby. 

“Don’t tear yourself down that much.” You remark, not unkindly. “I myself have had many bad, sad, unspeakable times– people are more broken than you realize.”

“Yeah, really?” Bucky looks mystified. “What kinda trouble could a lady like you get into? You’re very clever, and you’re probably well-off… I’d figure you’d keep your nose outta bad shit.”

“It’s not that simple, is it?” You lean back in your chair, pick a loose thread off your blazer. “Sometimes bad shit picks you, Mr. Barnes. That’s why we should not blame ourselves for things outside of our control.”

“Hey, don’t leave me hanging.” Bucky shoots back suddenly, sitting more present and aware of you than he had before. “What happened to you, doc?”

“That’s not why we’re here, Mr. Barnes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Bucky is half smiling, looking more roguish and understandably a little intrigued. “You’ve been hearing all about me, the least I deserve is some reciprocation.”

You blink. “Mr. Barnes, you’re paying me to be here for you. My advice is–”

“Alright, alright. Letting it go now.” Bucky raises his hands in a gesture meant to stop you from continuing. “Keep your secrets, it makes you more mysterious. More hot.”

You raise your eyebrows and then laugh. Just a little snort– and Bucky smiles.

“Okay, Mr. Barnes. We’ve got about seven minutes left, so I’ll tell you a little about myself.” You start, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“You’re that desperate to keep me from finding you attractive? What is this, patients and doctors aren’t allowed to–”

“They’re definitely not.” You silence him, but you can tell from his expression he likes the challenge. “Anyways. I’m thirty-three years old, I have two degrees, a PhD in psychology and a bachelor’s in social work– I did both at the same time– I’ve lived in New York my whole life, and my mother still believes that I haven’t done enough. Always going on about how I’m wasting my potential.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky pinches his forehead. “It’s always the smart girls like you who get way too much hate thrown at them. Even with two degrees, she’s like that? Want me to talk to her? Have a little one-on-one?”

“No, no.” You start laughing for real and then have to compose yourself, but Bucky has a different expression now, a sort of soft look in his eyes, and you find yourself turning a little warm. “I appreciate that, Mr. Barnes, but there’s no way I could let you do that.”

“Well, at least you considered it.” Bucky smiles and you feel a strange fit of passion inside you, that this guy who hardly knows you is willing to go that far. 

That perhaps, even as a shadowy, veiled observer, meant to impart advice and be relatively untouchable… you could be touched, too. 

You swallow, ignoring the thought that he’s rather handsome.

/

You’re out shopping for a new dress. It’s your sister-in-law’s birthday, and you know she wanted a bit of a fancy dinner for whatever reason. She’s turning 31, so there’s nothing special about it, but your brother, Viz, insisted that you go along with it.

“Wanda, Wanda, Wanda…” You mumble under your breath. She loves red, so you know you have to stay away from that colour. You’re leaning towards a navy-blue, simple dress with no details, just to be hidden in the background with.

“Hey, doc. Didn’t think I’d see you here.” Bucky suddenly ambushes you from the aisle, and you blink before refusing to make eye contact with him.

It’s fine that you’re his therapist, but in public? You worry about the perception on your work. Bucky is kind of infamous– sometimes your secretary will ask for gory details on what he does. You’ve never shared anything, but you also know that Bucky himself is relatively confidential about the whole thing.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” You utter quietly, and he tuts and grins at your expression. 

“Why do you look so scared?” He snorts, and with an overly familiar touch, his hand is on your shoulder.

You know you should be pushing him aside, so not to ruin the careful, purposefully respectful relationship between you two, but it’s also in public– Bucky has no reason to follow your rules here– and he’s not one to be trifled with.

“Not scared, just, uh, taken off guard.” You admit, and he laughs a little. “I’m just dress shopping.”

“I can see that.” Bucky gently pulls the dress you’re holding so he can look at it carefully. “That’s not you, I don’t think. The style is too frumpy– you look better in what you wear in the office.”

“Oh, really? So what is ‘me’, Mr. Barnes?” You wonder how long Bucky has been checking you out, supposedly enough that he knows your style. 

“Mmm… something like this?” He holds up a dress that just barely can be called one, black rhinestone straps being held together with skinny strips of fabric that would barely cover your breasts or ass, and you roll your eyes and put it back on the rack. “I’m kidding, just kidding. That’s more the local strippers’ vibe, I know.”

“You’re revealing a bit about your habits, huh.” You look at him pointedly. 

“Hey, blame the job. That’s where most dudes want to meet up.” Bucky scans through the rack and then picks up a much more you dress, something maroon, little embroidered flowers and filigree in the threadwork, and fitted enough that it would show off your body. Shorter than you would’ve liked, but you figure that’s Bucky’s gaze coming in.

“Wow.” You reach out for it, and Bucky gives you a smile that you’re sure has dazzled many, many women. 

“I’ll, uh, let you try that on. I’m heading to work, but I’ll see ya around, doc.” Bucky flashes a quick wave at you and heads on out, and you’re left feeling like you wanted more out of him.

/

The next session with Bucky, probably the ninth or tenth, he’s a lot more agreeable. A lot more open about what’s going on.

“My ma, you know, she’s getting into a bit of a hostile nature. I don’t know what spurred it on.” Bucky shakes his head and looks towards the ceiling. “She never used to get so upset over some of these things– last week she got upset because the wallpaper of her new sitting room was too dark or something– and I think she’s losing it. She’s losing control and doesn’t know what to do.”

“You’re right, Mr. Barnes. How does that affect you?” You lean in as you write this down. “How will you respond to that?”

“I think I get it, you know, doc? I feel like I can’t control everything all the time either.” Bucky begins a rhythm, showing his understanding of the situation. “She’s not wrong that it’s annoying when the little things don’t work out… sometimes it’s like all the small things are building up and then everything feels shit and you have to start screaming.”

“Good. Yes, exactly.” You nod your agreement, and Bucky nods and keeps going.

“I don’t know what I can do. Sometimes it feels like she’s got something, some undiagnosed illness, because even if I support her, she’s not always listening.” Bucky sounds despondent. “I say that she’s not at fault for what happens to her. That she’s not crazy, just in a bad place. But she tells me to fuck off, too, and I don’t… I can’t say I don’t deserve that, because I know I haven’t been the best son. I am the one of the things she can’t control, and even if there’s been some good, some helpful stuff… I still know she loathes me.”

“It’s difficult to come to terms with some of the negative things you may have done to her.” You feel more invested in Bucky’s story than you thought you would– you can see tears building up in his eyes. “But I commend you for doing your best, Mr. Barnes. I hope you can recognize this is a big milestone in your own personal development– even if it is difficult to rebuild your relationship with your mother, you are still there for her, and you can see what she needs. You must understand that your mother’s reaction to you is outside of your control. You can simply try your best to continue on with this knowledge and her, or move on past it– I believe you will make the right decision, though.”

Bucky sniffs a little, and wipes his eyes. “Thanks, doc. I’m glad we have these talks– you make me feel smarter.”

You half-smile at that. “I’m only showing you what you are already capable of, Mr. Barnes.”

He snickers a little. “My ma would like you.”

You feel a swell of pride and fondness that Bucky would say such a thing, even if you have no idea how true that it is, and you do your best to just keep that repressed. You can’t go on as his therapist if you’re starting to get too involved.

Bucky asks if he can pay you double for your services and you insist that he doesn’t need to do that. You feel as if you’ve gained more than just a well-paying client– you enjoy your sessions with him now.

/

Wanda’s birthday dinner is swanky, at some upper-class Italian place down by Brighton. Wanda is half-amused, half-irritated that you’re wearing such a lovely red-toned dress, but she says nothing of it.

Viz, your brother, is kind of weird around you. He seems to notice something about you.

“Anything different at work? Maybe a pay raise, something like that?” He asks out of curiosity at the dinner table, and you shake your head. “Ah, well. You just seem so smiley, sis.”

“Yeah. Just glowing, and at my birthday, too.” Wanda jokes, and you don’t have any answers.

You feel as if you know the reason why– and he shows up just as you’re thinking it.

Bucky is dressed in a nice blazer, dress pants, looking much more slick than he often does at your office. He comes in with most likely another member of his gang, and together they go sit in a corner booth.

You feel your face flush a deep red– he looks gorgeous, almost as if he could ditch being a mob boss and become an actor or a model instead. You can’t help but glance at him, hoping he’ll catch your eyes.  

Eventually, you get up to use the restroom. You stumble a little on your heels– and it’s that motion that causes Bucky to look up again. 

He’s taken aback– it’s you, but you look stunning, far more beautiful than he had ever seen you look during your sessions together, and that’s saying a lot because you were already incredibly distracting before, and a part of him is jealous and wonders why you’ve held yourself away from him like that. But Bucky is more rational now, and he knows that you haven’t done anything to make him attracted to you. He’s just like that.

He notices, with a bit of a possessive, satisfied flair, that you’re wearing the dress he picked. Bucky was right, it does suit you a lot, and he enjoys being able to make out your figure while having a bit of it left to his imagination. He sees the dip of your collar, where your cleavage is just beginning to come out, and bites his lip, hoping that he’d get to see more soon if he was so lucky.

You pass by his table, pulling your shawl a little tighter around you, and Bucky waves at you. You seem to blush– and he likes it a lot, likes being able to make the smart, always-one-step-ahead doctor flustered– and it’s like your roles have been switched, that you are now looking for his approval.

He gives it you readily. “You look great, doc. Love the hair– and the dress.”

“Ah… thank you, Mr. Barnes.” You beam warmly at him, and continue on your way to the washroom.

“Who the hell was that?” Steve asks, scratching his beard.

“Uh, right. That was my therapist.”

“That was your therapist?” Steve splutters, and Bucky shoves him a little. “Jesus, man. I need to get me one of those. She was hot.”

Bucky agrees with him, but still tells him to fuck off. He doesn’t want to share you. 

He motions to one of the waitresses, and tells her he’d like to pay for your table anonymously. When the bill arrives, many hours later, Wanda is incredibly confused on who would pay for her birthday dinner– she’s convinced it must be a secret birthday gift, and you only take credit for it because you don’t want to be found out like this.

You had no idea Bucky would do that for you.

/

A few weeks later, at another session, Bucky seems easily drawn to you. More than before.

“Rebecca’s getting ready. She gets a little too dolled up nowadays– but she knows no guy is going to talk shit with her now.” Bucky admits, and you wonder where this story is going. “She can tell I’m different, she keeps asking me what’s going on.”

“You’re very free to tell her what’s going on, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yes… but…” Bucky omits the fact that Rebecca seems certain he’s into a girl. She’s always had this weird uncanny ability to tell when Bucky’s got his eyes set on someone, whether it be some random girl at the bar, or someone like you– you’re one in a million for Bucky. 

Someone he really, truly likes. 

He clears his throat– he knows it’s inappropriate, it’s wrong, but he can’t help himself. You are too sweet, too lovable and kind and intelligent in ways that he’s not entirely familiar with, so it’s entirely too easy for him to simply give in and fall for you.  

He knows the boundaries you set. Respect, professional respect for the space that you’re in. It would be especially bad because of the nature of his work– he knows that even if he could protect you, you probably don’t want to be involved in that lifestyle.

“I don’t want to break your cover, doc. It’s best if I just tell her nothing about it for now.” Bucky concludes, and you shrug at that. “Anyways– I found out that she was going to go out with Steve, that ugly ass motherfucker that I still keep around for some reason, and I just yelled at her. I thought I was over it, but I’m not.”

“Have you considered that your sister is an adult who knows what she’s getting into?” You suggest. “She might not be the one to get hurt. Perhaps she wants the same thing he does– as you’ve said before, Steve is rather good at hooking up with women and running away afterwards.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s terrible– he loves girls and doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he’s full of commitment issues.” Bucky waves Steve’s issues aside while you are impressed at how quickly he was able to suss that out. “Rebecca is gonna be the death of me. She can live her own life, I’m not concerned about that– it’s that I know she’s doing this shit to rile me up.”

“Ah, I see.” You hum over that. “You could simply pretend not to care– many people stop those kind of actions when they see it’s not having an effect.”

“That’s true.” Bucky still shudders. “Still, if they fuck up– both of them– I will spend the rest of my life hearing their arguments.”

“Why not try to find an alternative person for Rebecca to date, then?” You think for a moment. “Or maybe she could find an actor of some sort. I don’t believe she means for this to last in a long term way.”

“Okay, that could also be true.” Bucky admits, and his eyes find yours. “Maybe I’m just looking for the worst outcome.”

Bucky seems better and better with every session– in this case it seems like his personal problems have been rectified just halfway into it– and he still spends the rest of the hour talking to you.

“You still worried about your brother’s new kid?” Bucky asks, remembering how last time he left the session he heard you yelling into your cellphone about it.

“That was a private conversation, but, uh, yes.” You decide to answer him honestly. “Yes, I am worried. My brother can sometimes be very– unemotional, detached, and it’s bad for his first child to grow up in that environment.”

“Hey, at least the kid has you. Therapist aunt– I bet you’ll help out in some ways.” Bucky points at you, and you agree with that. “Talk to your brother more. He’ll listen if he sees that you’re serious.”

You know Bucky’s right, but you have to wonder when you started taking advice from him– it’s almost as if he’s giving you little mafia tidbits, like intimidating your brother by persisting at the conversation– and you actually don’t mind it.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” You get up to bid him goodbye.

Bucky has an unreadable expression as he leaves, and he gently, but firmly, grasps your hand before going out the door, a grip that feels strangely intimate, and you’re left standing there with an urge for more, your mouth agape in a bit of shock. 

/

Bucky calls a week later sounding incredibly apologetic.

“I’m sorry, doc. I can’t make today’s session.” He sounds strangely heartbroken.

“Hey, that’s alright, Mr. Barnes. I’ll see what I can do in terms of refunding you.” You hope that’s all he called for. Recently there was something in the news about the Russian gangs of Brighton Beach having a kerfuffle with the cops– you can only assume that’s what Bucky’s gotten into, and you feel kind of guilty that you let yourself get so close to him.

“No, that’s alright. Keep the cash, I don’t mind that.” Bucky yells something incoherent, there are alarming gun-shot like sounds in the background, and then he comes back to the phone. “Listen, doc– I’m sorry, you can do without me as a patient. I don’t wanna risk anything with you, and if that means you gotta let me go, then do it.”

You are silent for a moment.

You’re hopeless, and you know it.

All it took was for Bucky to be the one who was genuinely concerned for you– for him to put you first when he’s surely in a dangerous situation right now– and you’re smiling like a damn fool, wishing that you could just let him go. You don’t want to.

You know you’re appealing to a dangerous man, but you don’t care.

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. Our sessions can continue.” You murmur, and Bucky laughs on the other side of the phone. 

“Alright, doc. I had a feeling you didn’t want to let go of our progress.” He states, and you wonder if he knows about your feelings for him.

He might just be thinking that you are entirely sophisticated about this whole thing. He doesn’t know that you’ve dreamed of him, silly domestic dreams where Bucky is the husband to your doting self, or ones where you tell him your fears and he listens, and vows to protect you, or extremely explicit dreams where he simply shuts you up with a kiss and spreads your legs. You do not know how to stop these– you feel that you have gained too much by liking him. It’s been a while since you’ve crushed on someone and felt that it could go somewhere.

At the very least, you do want to at least ensure his success as a patient of yours. You will get over this, it’s just that… you still have a sheepish smile even after Bucky has hung up the phone, and that’s not good.

You make a note not to go any further than this.

/ 

At your next session, Bucky is despondent, clearly not telling you something that bothers him. He spends most of the session rather upset and quiet.

“Doc, do you think I’m a good man?” He says it with not a hint of irony.

You fall quiet. You don’t know if a murderer will ever be considered a good man, and you don’t want to make that moral conclusion. You’re not a god.

“I don’t think that’s up to me, Mr. Barnes.” You start, and Bucky immediately pelts you with more questions.

“But you think I’m morally repugnant, right? That’s something I read on the news the other day.” Bucky scoffs at himself. “I can’t believe I thought I was better than that.”

“You can be, if you want to be. I’m not saying it forgives your past transgressions, but–” You fix your vision on him. “You have to make the choice to be a good man before you can ask others if you are.”

“And you think I have that potential?”

“...Yes. I’m not just saying this as your therapist, Mr. Barnes.” You swallow and then answer him honestly. “I believe if you want to be a better man, you have it in you to do so. You want the truth, right?”

Bucky nods, and leans closer in.

“Being a good man, a good person, can not be synonymous with being apart of the mafia. I’m somewhat apologetic about this, but–” You wince at your own fears at his reaction. “Eventually you would have to leave, not just to be a better man, but to be a healed person, both mentally and physically.”

“...” Bucky stares you down for a bit. 

“Okay, doc. I hear you.” He leans back in his seat, and you let go of a breath you had no idea you were holding. “I’ll try to take your advice.”

You’re not sure how much faith you can have in him. Something about the way Bucky stares at you and leaves this time, it screams control issues again– perhaps this is the last time you’d ever see him. You brace yourself for a no-show next week, and a phone call cancelling his appointments.

It saddens you– you’ll miss him.

/ 

Unfortunately for you, Bucky shows up at your next session with a bouquet of flowers. Chrysanthemums- you’re very sure Bucky has done this because of the framed photo in your office of them. He’s being a little too thoughtful, and you’re worried.

“Mr. Barnes. You’re a little early.” You start off, and sit at your chair.

“I’ve paid for the hour, don’t worry.” He grins and then approaches you, looking at the floor, your face, and then back at your desk again. He’s clearly nervous.

“Go out with me, doc.” Bucky offers, and you shake your head, just out of principle.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I just feel that you’re desperately searching for a way to fulfill–”

“Enough of the shrink talk! Jesus Christ.” Bucky scowls, and then fixes himself, standing upright as you back up a little. “Do you have any idea how I feel? How I think about you at every second? You’re fucking up my work, too–”

“That’s not really my fault–” You try, but Bucky shushes you, walking towards you and grasping your hands so quickly that you cannot help but look up at him again. His blue eyes are squinting, peering so desperately into your own, turning grey with how serious he is.

You’re mildly frightened, but you would be lying if you said you never saw the signs of his attraction before. How his gaze lingered on you for far too long, how he would occasionally comment on your beauty, how he would constantly compliment your intelligence… you at first thought that perhaps Mr. Barnes was bad at recognizing the difference between a woman who was into him, and a woman who simply had emotional intelligence. You could blame the way that society expects women to mother their partners for that.

But lately you had been feeling something new, something you didn’t suspect would happen. And there wasn’t anything wrong with that– therapy is a personal practice after all, you can’t blame yourself for your own feelings– but you never thought he would reciprocate so clearly, holding your hand like this. He always seemed enigmatic until now, and you wish you could change things.

Even worse, you could tell he was making progress– he was really trying to be more than what he thought of himself. He could be kind, sweet even, and it’s with some embarrassment and fondness that you find yourself looking forward to his appointments. Lately you’ve caught yourself smiling about him for no reason, even though you feel this relationship– a budding one between the two of you– could change things for the worse, and you don’t want that for him.

Bucky traces your knuckles with his thumb, and he leans in towards you, whispering very, very carefully. 

“I like you. I think you’re very special in a way that cannot be found in other people. I don’t want you to be scared of me… I just want you to know that I’m interested in you.” Bucky kisses your hand, and you are drawn to a silence, unable to figure out what to say.

“Mr. Barnes–” You start, and then stop yourself. “Bucky… I don’t want to be the reason why you didn’t get better.”

“But I am better, don’t you get it? God, for a doctor, you can really be dense.” Bucky snickers and then holds your hands closer. “I like you. I think you’re wonderful. Smart, beautiful, a real challenge. I think you’re why I’m better, and not just because of therapy– Jesus, that’s fucking cheesy but it’s true– sometimes I know I can’t keep being the White Wolf, the boss of this gang, because you make me think it over, and I want to do right by you and what you’ve taught me.”

“So you’re going to remove yourself from your gang?” You ask honestly, peering up into Bucky’s eyes to see if he’s telling the truth. He looks so solemn– so sure of himself.

“I already knew that I needed to, doc. I knew it when you said that I was hurting myself by being there. Of course there are some things that I like about it–” He cuts himself off, and presses his forehead to yours, grasping your cheeks. “The gang isn’t going to survive very long, anyways. Everyone knows it can only last so long, and a lot of them are moving on into the show business.”

“I didn’t think Hollywood was so transparent on their mafia connections.” You whisper, and Bucky snickers at your response.  “But what about your heart palpitations?”

“They’ve been reduced by a lot. I used your trauma response workshopping thing and it helped me.” Bucky takes on a funny little smile. “And I think the only thing fucking up my heart now is you. I used to have it figured out, you know? But I can’t continue another day being that guy. Let me take you out, please.”

Bucky’s final plea rings through you, and you can’t find it in you to reject him this time. He’s got you wrapped around his finger– and being so candid, so honest about how he felt, really every therapist’s dream– you search his eyes and it’s no surprise when Bucky leans in to kiss you. 

Your eyes are wide open as he does, in shock, because you’re not expecting him to do this, and he moves– his hands wrap around your waist and he inhales as his tongue sweeps against your own, and you kiss back before you can tell yourself not to. 

Bucky pulls back, breathing hard, and you feel yourself turn warm at his reaction. You watch as his face comes towards yours again– you have to pull away, too.

“What is it?” Bucky sounds a little wary.

“If we continue like this– I can’t be your therapist anymore. I can’t do both things, it would unethical and hard to separate.” You swallow, and then nod. “Promise me you won’t use me for therapy anymore, Bucky.”

“I… of course, doc. I would never expect both from you.” He sounds sorry about it, at least. “I’m not trying to use you– I really, really like you.”

He hums as he leans in for another kiss and this time you let yourself have at him– why not let yourself have a little fun, right, even if it’s in your place of work– and Bucky lifts you up easily, his mouth connecting to your jaw, and then neck, before setting you down at your desk. 

“I think I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.” He shares, and you look affronted.

“Are you telling me you weren’t focused?” You push his chest, but Bucky holds your hands back.

“Of course I was focused, I just had a different subject in mind.” Bucky brushes aside a piece of your hair. “You can’t tell me I’m the first man to have fallen for you like this– I have to think that in an enclosed space like this, most guys are checking out the pretty doctor.”

“Uh… well maybe there’s been others, but–” As you say this, Bucky’s eyes narrow a little and you remember that he is kind of the jealous type. “None of them have been as forward as you. None of them asked me out.”

“Good.” Bucky leans in and kisses you again, and you’re very glad your office door is shut and locked.

Bucky lifts you again, easily, his mouth connecting with yours and then to where your collarbone just peeks out of your top, and he sits you down on his lap on the armchair where he often states his opinions and thoughts on his life. Bucky seems to be admiring you– you can’t escape his gaze as he looks at you from side to side.

“If you’re not a mob boss anymore… all I ask is if you’re serious about this. About me?” You ask, so earnestly, that Bucky has to feel some crushing regret about how he never quite told you the truth.

“I never… I never did all that stuff with girls. It was a front, you know, it is a front for a lot of gang members. They gotta show that they’re desirable.” Bucky shakes his head. “But I was more focused on, uh… cleaning up ‘stains’, talking to ‘coworkers’, you feel me? I was addicted to that violent, electric feeling. Never again, though.”

“Okay. I trust you.” You’re not sure why you believe him so strongly, but you do, and even if every red flag in your therapist knowledge is currently being raised right now (trauma bonding, love bombing, manipulation, the list goes on and on)– you think he’s being honest. You do believe based on everything Bucky has told you previously, that he doesn’t mess around with girls, and he is trying to leave behind his lifestyle. You can even see it in his latest heart analysis results, as his physician showed you recently.

You’re so grateful that you helped him in this way. That you got him to reach his fullest potential. And a little evil, selfish part of you likes that he chose you, too, as he leans in and kisses you again.

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles and Danneel Ackles | Brighton UK (Crossroads 6), March 12, 2023

(sicparvis87)

Jensen just yelled „are you not entertained?“ and then said „you don’t even know what that’s from, do you?“ to Danneel. „I failed as a husband.“ Danneel „remembers *Russel Crowe*“ (but not the line). (x)

Danneel complained because Jensen had them change the chairs to higher and less comfortable. Now Jensen is trying to direct us for a hbd video and complained we‘re as hard to direct as Jared. (x)

Danneel doesn’t yell at Jensen when he does something wrong in the house, just wordlessly shows him. Jensen demonstrated that. (I.E. dishes in sink and not the dishwasher) (x)

“i put my pots in the sink and danneel says why don’t you put them in the dishwasher and i say they find their way and she says HOW DO YOU THINK THEY FIND THEIR WAY JENSEN?!”  (x)

Fan congratulates them on The Winchesters! Cheers in the room  (x)

Winchesters set. How to set the tone. Jensen started by giving a talk on day 1 to Drake and Meg. Same talk Kripke gave J2 while filming Wendigo. Show begins and ends with their relationship on and off camera. (x)

Jensen sat down and had a talk with meg and drake similar to what kripke gave him and jared during the filming of wendigo about how the show starts and ends with their relationship on and off camera  (x)

Jensen is telling the story about how Kripke sat him and Jared down at the beginning of the show and told them that they had a responsibility as the leads. “We had the most fun on this set doing what we love to do”.  (x)

Jensen says Drake was really eager for directions as to how to be the best that he could be. Meg is a natural-born leader and just went “oh, I get it”. (x)

JENSEN JUS DID THE HIGHEST PITCH VOICE FOR MEG GIGGLES ‘I GOT IT!’ BABYYYY PLS  (x)

“yes we took the kids in baby no i have not driven baby i haven’t even asked” - danneel  (x)

They took the kids out in Baby but Danneel has never driven it. Danneel talks a little more and corrects her pronouns to „she“ when talking about the car. (x)

Danneel hasn’t driven Baby yet, but not because Jensen won’t allow it, just because she hasn’t thought about driving it! Also said it smells “like a boat”  (x)

danneel said baby doesn’t start the same as she does on the show and jensen GLARES and everyone goes WHAT and she says oh no she sounds the same she’s just slower  (x)

jensen ended up complaining that the show used a different cars sound than the impalas bc people used to come over expecting his baby to sound like ‘BRUMMMMMMMMM’ and instead it was more ‘PTH bfbfbfbf’ and he said it was embarrassing    (x)

They used to use a fake sound for how Baby would start, and Jensen actually begged them to change it to something more similar to how it actually sounds.  (x)

Danneel’s mom was calling Jensen’s phone and he actually considered answering it until Danneel gave him THE “no”  (x)

Danneel hasn’t driven baby yet and says it smells like a boat  Danneel says it doesn’t start like it does on the show.  Jensen has just confirmed that it is in fact a boat engine lol .  (x)

baby 1 is jensens, baby 3 is jareds, baby 2? stunt car. insanely damaged little gal with all these stunt items on it  (x)  jensen refuses to remove any scratch or dint from baby or let anyone grease or oil the hinges of the doors !!!! (x)

They had to remove the radio in Baby while they were on SPN because (quoting Jensen) “Jared and I are CHILDREN”  (x)

jensens talking about the truck he drives in big sky and how it’s a complete pile of shit and that he couldn’t get the door open and had to use a screw driver in some of the takes to open it  (x)

jensen keeps apologising for long answers bc there’s so many people waiting  (x)

Some RadioCo cheers for the third album!!  (x)

the fan said jensen is a musician and danneel nodded encouragingly (x)

Jensen still stands by the statements that he is “not a musician” and he “has three album to prove it”, and he’s “not an actor, and has fifteen seasons to prove”. Danneel just thinks he’s both.  (x)

Relationship with music. Reference to Jensen‘s former answer of „I am not a musician“. How about now? He stands by his comment. Not a musician. He has three albums to prove it. Much like he‘s not an actor. He has 15 seasons to prove it. (x)

Jensen would rather be pretty good at everything than really good at just one thing.  (x)

jensens talking about how as a teen he never was super amazing at one thing but he was good at everything in the sense of he was never a star athlete but he could play all the sports and it’s something he’s grateful to be able to dip into different talents and arts  (x)

“give everything a try.” advice they give to their kids    (x)

They’re trying to teach their kids that they can try anything they want, as long as they possibly can.  (x)

Danneel wants Jensen to do another play!  (x)

“she was like, jensen you’re gonna do it you’re gonna get it and i was like how do you know? and she said because i know you”  (x)

Danneel talked Jensen off the ledge when he was rehearsing for his play years ago. “I was gonna walk, and she just said ‘Jensen, you’re gonna get it’ and Jensen asked ‘how do you know that?’, Danneel said ‘because I know YOU’.” (x)

(chaotic_dean)

jensens talking about his song writing process and how he builds it up through cords and vowels and then words from that and then tell a story through that. so music, melody then lyrics to that  (x)

Danneel is so supportive of Jensen - it is really shining through  (x)

Jensen about Adam staying in the cage for 10 years: HEY I DIDNT WRITE IT!  (x)  Jensen praising Jake Abel as an actor, but also as a very genuinely good person. (x)

“As Dean, I would’ve taken Adam under my wing and done my best to connect with him, despite about our father.” (x)

jensen said that dean would've taken adam under his wing and looked after him and that he would've loved to have had adam brought back sooner so they could've flushed out that dynamic more (x)

They have to be very careful about going through the proper channel to get spin-offs developed.  (x)

They’re actually talking about giving contacts to people wanting to pitch things. It’s a lot to go through from a legal standpoint but it’s doable. (x)

jensen said they have to be careful legally on how to take fan submissions for shows and how even getting the winchesters took a lot for them. they said the gersh agency is who they’re rep by and that that’s the best way to start” (x)

Jensen and Danneel have to be super careful when listening to pitches legally. Even when they started pitching The Winchesters, they were told to go through the proper channels. They have a special person to do pitches now.(x)  Danneel says Supernatural is one of the best fandoms“ and Jensen corrects her that it‘s “THE best fandom”. (x)

jensen says he would do his audition as if it was the last performance of his life. he said if u sit waiting on the callback it’s the worst thing you can do (x)  “it’s like if you’re a painter, the more you do, the better you get. build that confidence, build a thick skin, but not too thick that it blocks the world. just the negativity, bring in positivism always!” (x)

What would they tell their younger selves when they started acting? Jensen got the advice that acting is a game in numbers. The more you do it, the better you get. The more you try, the more chances. Every audition was his final performance. Don’t wait for callbacks (x)  Same goes for writers and artists. The more you try, the better you get. Build a thick skin, embrace positivity. (x)

“Get a thick skin from negativity, embrace positivity ” (x)

jensen said there’s always a story he wishes he tells at conventions and forgets till after the con now he’s on the spot he can’t remember  (x)

Funny story in their back pocket but nobody asked it yet? Jensen has those, but currently forgot them all. He had one yesterday but Danneel forgot it too. „We have three kids.“ (x)

french mistake when we got pitched that episode i remember saying as long as i don’t have to play anyone other than dean winchester you can put me anywhere or call me anything you want, i’m still playing dean because i know where he is and he’s in me  (x)

“jared played a lot of variations of sam but i was just dean for most of the series until michael dean or demon dean because i was like NOPE don’t take dean away from me and i’m still like this” (x)

HBO SPN question! Danneel: “Dean would have been able to swear a lot more!” Jensen thinks it would have been actually pretty similar to the Boys. “Watch the Boys, and then put that into SPN, and you’ll have HBO SPN” (x)  At the heart of it, it would’ve been the same show.”(x)

Jensen recalling his scene in Lazarus rising - “it was HOT in that box!” It was like being in a sauna underground. And he had to do it twice. (x)

Lazarus Rising. It was summer and it was about 50°C in that box under the earth and Jensen was in it, could barely hear the crew. But thankfully he could hear Kim‘s significant voice through the dirt and neoprene. (x)  The hole was cut in the neoprene but dirt on top of it. Jensen didn’t have to do a lot of acting because he was so happy to get out of that hole. Then Kim said „let‘s go again“ and Jensen yelled „fuck you, Kim“. (x)  Danneel says that story just gave her so much anxiety and she could never do that. In the scene before, Jensen was in a coffin and they put crumbled oreos instead of dirt. Jensen turned his head and had Oreos in his ears for a week. (x) 

“there’s not a lot of directors i’d do that for but i’d pay every dollar to do that for him again”  (x)

When talking about Samuel Winchester, Robbie wanted „someone like Tom Welling“ and at some point Robbie asked if Jensen couldn’t just call him. So he did and Tom agreed before Jensen was even done with his pitch. (x) 

They actually started refering to Tom as a ‘placeholder’, same build, same age, etc. and then Robbie asked Jensen if Jensen and Tom were keeping in touch, and Jensen was like “yeah! … *realizing* OH”. He then actually called him to ask if he was interested.  (x)

He‘s happy that he and Danneel are now in a place where they can call and ask close friends they trust to come in for jobs. Jensen hopes he‘s also one of those people that others trust and call to be on something. (x)

jensen said it before and stands by wishing we got longer time in purgatory says how benny is one of his favourite characters and there’s a reason in atomic monsters he brought benny back and it wasn’t written in the script he just wanted to give a homage to that storyline (x)

When Danneel was first up as Anael, Jensen flew home to be Mr Mom while she worked in Vancouver. A storyline Jensen wanted more of is Purgatory. Benny is one of his fave characters. He called Ty for Atomic Monsters, wasn’t scripted. (x)  Second to that is Michael. Danneel: „Because you liked the outfit.“ He did.(x)

How much input do they have into the Winchesters and who’s idea was it to bring Dean back? They both chose Robbie has the writer because they love his writing. Similar story to getting Tom Welling on the show, “I would love to get Robbie! … Oh, I should call Robbie!” (x)

Whose idea was it to bring Dean back? When pitching The Winchesters, he wanted Robbie because he‘s one of his fave writers on SPN. The others all already have successful shows on TV. (x)  And then the Ackles told Robbie to „go nuts“. Robbie is a big Dean fan and „wanted to write Dean again“. He wrote the voice over, send it to Jensen. Jensen read it out loud and unconsciously changed words.Robbie took notes. Called it „going through the Dean machine.“ (x)  Jensen fake complains again about having to do the 6 page exposition in The Winchesters finale. But it was cathartic to him and fun for him & Robbie. (x)

Robbie was the one who write the Dean voice over and then Jensen would record and add stuff and then go “oh shit did I fucked that up?” And Robbie went “no, you just made it ‘more Dean’!”  (x)

Jensen referring to himself and Robbie as the “Deanarrator” (x)

jensen basically said that by episode one and two they both jus sat back and watched and got to see the show unfold thanks to robbie (though jensen loved to be needed to be like HERES WHAT DEAN WOULD DO when asked) (x)

“oh they’re gonna rewrite canon it’s gonna be a DISASTER! then i come in and i’m like lol it’s an alternate universe… SUCK IT!” (x)  “which i have to say that opens up a LOT of opportunities guys… a lot! in senses of multiverses… a lot of shows do it, why not us” (x)

Jensen has been trying to get Danneel to come to cons for a while but she always said „no, that’s your thing“ and he replied „it could be your thing too“. (x)

“thank you for being here see y’all real soon! and THANKYOU for making danneels experience amazing she wasn’t sure she thought it was my thing i said it could be her thing too. y’all are AMAZING!” (x)

‘Thank you for making Danneel’s experience amazing - I keep telling her this could be our thing!’ (x)

Jensen just thanked us all for making Danneel’s first experience on stage at a convention fantastic and memorable one and that they will definitely be coming back to the UK (x)

(sbegum77)

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Millie Bright x Reader

Part Three - The Girl Next Door

Posted: 18/04/23 Edited: 24/09/23

“So Carla has agreed we can leave if we’re 3-0 up at half time” Rachel reminded us as we walked into Brighton’s stadium with Jordan. Chelsea v Arsenal Conti Cup Final is tonight and we promised Millie we would be there but that was before they rescheduled a Villa game to today, due to start at 2pm when the final starts at 3pm. There was no way we would make it for the start but we were determined to get there somehow. “As soon as the whistle blows, you start the car and we’ll get changed on the way” Rachel stated, “we gotta be at least 3 goals up though Rach” Jordan said, worried that the plan wasn’t going to work. She was coming with us to support her girlfriend Leah and her former team “Jords, we’re gonna do it. We have to believe we’re gonna do it!” Rachel shook her shoulders trying to make her teammate believe her words. “I believe in you!” shouting to both players as you left them at the player entrance to go find your seat.

As the whistle blew for half time and the score board said 5-0 you sprinted out to the car and drove it round to the entrance, pulling your Daly shirt off and your Bright one on as the girls jumped in then sped up the M23 to get to Selhurst Park - if all goes well you will get there 30 mins in. Millie had assumed you weren’t coming now the Villa game had been moved, you wanted to surprise her and had your parking space prebooked so knew you’d be close by. The girls removed their match shirts to pull on Millie and Leah’s last names then tugged their trackies on over their shorts as you sped up towards the stadium, pulling into your space and sprinting in through the VIP entrance. Glancing at the screen to see Arsenal were winning 2-1, you and Rach looked at each other with concern whereas Jordan punched the air. Finding your seats and immediately starting to cheer for your teams, when Millie came close you all shouted her name, she noticed you and her smile grew knowing her besties were here watching. The score came in from the Villa game which ended 6-1, the girls were pleased with this and were able to enjoy the rest of the game with ease.

Chelsea seemed sloppy but Arsenal looked ready and fired up. You always thought that Chelsea’s demeanour presented as cocky so found it funny they were getting knocked down a peg. Of course, Millie’s cockiness was one of the main reasons you love her - the cockiness suited her and so did Chelsea. Just before half time Niamh scored an own goal making you both wince knowing you wouldn’t want to be in that changing room with Emma. She definitely intimidates you! Before heading off the pitch Millie ran over to hug you both as Rachel gave her a pep talk before she shuffled off with the rest of her team.

It was a tough second half and the score didn’t change. Jordan was so happy for Arsenal, jumping and cheering at the final whistle but she couldn’t help feeling a little sad that she wasn’t part of the team anymore. The girls ran over to see her and bought her on to the pitch with them which you thought was adorable. While the celebrations were happening you watching as Millie slowly made her way over you, slumping against the barrier when she arrived. Rachel draped her arms around her shoulders as you watched Arsenal lift the trophy together. You were happy for Arsenal, you don’t mind much about who wins what and will celebrate everyone. Beth and Leah came over for a chat with their Lioness team mates, since Beth’s injury you hadn’t seen her a lot, congratulating them as they skipped off to enjoy the moment. “Can I come home with you please?” Millie words tinged with sadness, “you not going on the bus?” Rach responded. “No, I’m sad” her head dropped into your girlfriend’s arms, “well, Chelsea were getting a bit cocky” you giggled which cost you a death stare from Millie but watching you giggling she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Don’t worry bestie, we know what’ll make you feel better” Rach winked at her, you caught her vibe and unknowingly bit your lip “yeah we do!” you smirked. “Stop guys, not here!” Millie squirmed as she started to distance herself from you both. “Best get your arse back home then aih!” Rachel said pushing her further away jokingly. You called over to Jordan to ask who she was going home with, she gestured to Leah so you three made your way back to the car without her and started the journey home.

Millie’s perspective:

Glancing at the empty seats where Rach and (y/n/n) should be I couldn’t help feeling a little sad. Although my family are here, it isn’t the same without those two wearing my shirt. The league had restarted and we barely had time to see each other again, (y/n) always goes to Rachel’s games if ours clashed and rightly so but I couldn’t help feeling like I was the third wheel now we don’t all get to spend time together. We were soon 1-0 down and obviously we’re not playing our best - something just wasn’t clicking within this team today and as co-captain I couldn’t figure out what. I shouted directions at all of them but nothing paid off.

Suddenly I heard my name being called by the voices of the people I know best. I turned to see Rachel, (y/n) and Jordan waving frantically in my direction which gave me the energy I needed to keep this team going. When the final whistle blew all I wanted to do was crawl into bed with them and mope. Slumping myself on the barrier I instantly felt a bit better with Rachel’s arms wrapped around me. (Y/n/n) was cheering for Arsenal which I wanted to hate her for but she’s wearing my shirt so can’t get angry. She’s always happy for everyone, that’s why we love her.

With the glances and suggestive words being whispered in my ear I was already feeling a bit better. Nothing a little tenderness couldn’t fix! Carrying my emotions for me they bundled me into the car and off we went. Me and Rach sat in the back as (y/n) drove home, I noticed she angled her rear view mirror to be able to see us. Rach leant on my shoulder and drew circles on the palm of my hand before moving to my thigh, dragging her finger tips from under my knee to the bottom of my shorts. Noticing (y/n)’s smirk in the mirror I laid my head back and enjoyed the intimacy of human touch that had been missing in my life recently. Although I hate Levi for what he did to me, I do miss having someone to come home to every night. I can’t believe he moved out without saying anything to me. The girls either did a really good number on him or the last 6 years meant nothing. Either way it hurts being in my house alone now.

Watching the scenery pass by the window and listening to (y/n)’s god awful singing in the background I was suddenly snapped back into reality as I felt Rachel’s hand move further up my thigh. Realising her face was a lot closer to mine than it was a minute ago I grabbed her hand to hold it still. “Thank you for coming ladies” “anything for you Mills, I don’t know who you expect me to support when you play each other though!” (Y/n) paused her singing to remark “Errr, obviously me!” Rachel sniped “obviously you” I smiled at her. “I’m gonna have to sew two shirts together I think” she said making us laugh at the thought “can you imagine the stick you’d get from fans though?” I questioned, desperately wanting to protect her from the wrath of the hardcore followers. Most are lovely but some can be downright horrible and she doesn’t quite understand why some people simply won’t like her for the fact she’s dating Daly. Some fans think that we’re gonna fall in love with them one day and we shouldn’t be in relationships. I guess it worked for Rach and (y/n/n) but they’re one in a million and in reality never should never have worked on paper. (Y/n) has given all fans around the globe a sense of ‘if she can do it, I can too’ mentality. We aren’t trophies to be won, we’re human beings and some fans are savages! We can’t say that though, we have to pretend to like everyone even when they try to touch us inappropriately or say suggestive things. It makes me feel sick. I have no idea how these two worked out so well, must have been written in the stars, I know Rach thinks it’s fate and maybe she’s right. I’ve never believed in such things until these two but it’s hard to deny that they’re made for each other. I loved living with them but now I’ve moved back to mine, I am certainly not as happy as I was when I lived with them. My house constantly reminds me of what I thought was my future isn’t anymore, I’m nearly 30 with no one I can see spending my life with. I thought I was going to marry and have kids with Levi and suddenly it’s all gone.

Pulling up at their house I couldn’t help but notice the ‘for sale’ sign in next doors garden, my eyes firmly latched onto the house and immediately thought of how good it would be to live next door to my best friends. I’m not in denial, I know I couldn’t have lived with them forever but I could live next door. As soon as we reached inside I went to the bathroom and locked the door to google the house and book a viewing. It had to be a sign! I was miserable and thinking about how I was happier living with them and now suddenly the house next door is for sale? What was I just saying about fate not existing?

They asked if I could view the house later today and I hastily said yes. I wanted to keep it a secret from the girls but I just had to tell them. Skipping down the stairs I blurted out the news, they squealed and offered to come with me to view it and by the end of the day I’d put an offer on which was accepted. It’s every best friend’s dream to live next to each other and we’re doing it!

Part Four - Departure

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A baby whose body was found in a shed spent much of her life being carried in a Lidl "bag for life" while her parents lived "off-grid", a court has heard.

Constance Marten, 36, and Mark Gordon, 49, are on trial for the manslaughter of newborn Victoria, whose body was discovered in March 2023 after a weeks-long search for the family.

Prosecutors said the baby would still be alive if it were not for the "reckless" behaviour of the defendants.

The pair deny the charges.

Outlining the case against the defendants, prosecutor Tom Little KC told jurors the couple previously had four other children, all of whom had been taken into care after extensive involvement from social services.

He said the couple "essentially went off-grid" and lived outside to avoid social services removing their new baby, concealing the pregnancy from family and the health service.

The Old Bailey heard that only the defendants knew the precise date the baby was born, but the prosecution said she appeared to have been born after 28 December 2022.

On 5 January, a car the family had allegedly been travelling in was discovered on fire on a road in Greater Manchester. When it was searched a placenta wrapped in a towel was found inside.

The couple had left before police arrived and a high-risk missing persons inquiry was launched.

Two days later, Mr Little KC told jurors they dumped a buggy in London and "the child was transferred and carried in a Lidl 'bag for life' where it would appear it spent much of its life before it died".

Jurors were told the couple lived in a tent alongside their baby in "freezing and obviously dangerous conditions" - conditions which prosecutors allege ultimately led to her death.

Mr Little KC told jurors Ms Marten and Mr Gordon spent hundreds of pounds on taxi journeys while classed as missing people rather than putting it towards a "roof over their heads and warmth and safety".

He said that by the middle of February 2023 they had been "living rough for over a month", sometimes in "freezing cold, windy and wet" weather, and at one stage the couple were scavenging for food from from bins.

The jury was told Ms Marten - who was not in court to hear the prosecution's opening - did not have a "deprived upbringing" and had "potential access to the money and whatever help she needed".

There was a sighting of Victoria as late as 19 February but the baby was not with Ms Marten and Mr Gordon when they were arrested on 27 February. When officers detained the couple, Ms Marten had what appeared to be stuffing from furniture inside her clothing, and Mr Gordon was still wearing a Christmas jumper.

On 1 March, prosecutors say baby Victoria's body was found in a shed in Brighton in the same Lidl bag she had been seen being carried in, covered in rubbish.

Pathologists have been unable to establish a cause of death.

In a police interview after the body was found, Ms Marten gave conflicting dates for Victoria's death, but said she had fallen asleep sitting up holding the baby in her jacket and awoke to find her dead.

She told officers she kept the body because she wanted an autopsy to be performed, adding: "I've been carrying her around not knowing what to do."

Ms Marten also told police she and Mr Gordon had planned to buy a flat but were recognised when they travelled to London to find one.

She continued: "In order to save [the baby] from the services, then we would have to probably remove ourselves from society till we could find a house"

Mr Gordon told police their situation went "really down really quickly" after their car caught fire with possessions inside.

Ms Marten said in an interview they considered turning themselves in and insisted the baby had adequate clothing to survive outdoors, which the prosecution disputes.

Mr Little KC said the couple had put their relationship and "view of life" above the baby's safety, adding Victoria "would still be alive... if it was not for the reckless, utterly selfish, callous, cruel, arrogant and ultimately grossly negligent conduct of these two defendants".

Ms Marten and Mr Gordon are charged with manslaughter by gross negligence of their baby between 4 January 2023 and 27 February 2023.

The couple are also accused of four other offences : cruelty to their baby; concealment of the baby's birth; causing or allowing her death; and perverting the course of justice by concealing the body.

The trial continues.

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[possumpop]

Top surgery recovery diary - day 0

starting a little diary of my top surgery recovery for posterity and reference for other transmascs!

cw: discussions of needles/IVs, controlled pain killers, and urine samples

(im currently nearly falling asleep as i type this, so it may be slightly incoherent)

type of surgery: double-incision mastectomy, with free nipple grafts! surgeon: Dr Jessica Jen-Tau Hsu, at the UofM Brighton Center for Specialty Care

i arrived at the clinic at 12:45pm, and was taken back right around 1pm. apparently they were running ahead of schedule, which is something you almost never hear at a hospital

both my boyfriend luke and my mom came back with me, which was nice. i only got to meet with my surgeon (Dr. Hsu at uofm) once today, very briefly. she drew on my surgery lines, took my vitals, and then left. i did have to give a urine sample to ensure i wasnt pregnant (annoying standard feature)

then a rotating cast of nurses and doctors all met with me, gave me info about the procedure, gave me some pain + nausea meds, and also wrapped my arms in heated blankets to help with the IV insertion

it did not help enough though, bc i come from a long line of tiny-as-fuck-veins, and was also dehydrated, so they had to try a second time with an ultrasound. wasnt as bad as i thought it would be, but it still SUCKED. i have a phobia of veins and also IVs so that was the worst part. my mom offered her hand for me to squeeze the shit out of while i tried my best to not faint

once that iv was in though they gave me some relaxation meds, and i was very quickly taken back into the operating room, at around like 2:15pm. the second they put the mask on me i was out like a light. i dont even think they told me it was the anesthesia lol

i was out of surgery by 4:15pm, and was up and awake at 4:30pm. they were very impressed by how quickly i woke up and how lucid i was. they got me some applesauce and i downed it like a dying man. they also gave me some more pain killers bc i was Sore. apparently the surgery went great though!

after the pain meds kicked in, they gave luke a tutorial on drain draining, and went over pain killer management. basically just extra strength tylenol, and some Good Stuff for the first week. its ridiculous how cheep oxy is at the hospital, i think they said that even if my insurance didnt cover it, it wouldve only been like $8??? it ended up being just over a dollar lol

once they ripped my IV out i was ready to go, and i was in the car otw home by 5:45pm! all in total i spent 6 hours there, which was less than i expected. the ride home wasnt as painful as i expected, but i had my pompompurin blanket cushioning me from the seatbelt a bit. im supposed to drain my drains again at close to midnight, and cant take more pain killers until 9:30pm.

total removed weight: 4.5 lbs. my surgeon guessed 3lbs total and I guessed 3lbs for each boob, and it ended up being right in the middle! the additional decimals leaned it closer to 6 though so i count that as a win

im currently somewhat sore, kinda a dull ache mixed with some itchiness. and as i said at the top, sleepy. i was extremely hungry but ive got some slow-cooked chicken, peas, and cottage cheese and im feeling Good now

tips for anyone else getting this surgery: drink a ton of water the days before, so you dont have tiny tiny veins. and on the day of, you wont be able to drink anything but water, and will have to stop 2 hours before you arrive. if you know youre gonna need to do any kind of urine sample, try to wait until you get to the hospital to go pee!

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[leaving-anorexia-behind]

27/01/24

Part 3

That day feels like a blur. I forced myself to work while thinking of what I wanted to say in my goodbye letters when the AMHPs turned. One was an older guy, the other middle aged. I wish the staff hadn't opened the door to them. I was called from my room, my safe space and ushered up the stairs to the top floor where they, the HM and the dietetic assistant were waiting for me.

I was asked more questions; what was it like growing up, relationships with my parents, who had a mental illness in my family... the questions went on and on and I got frustrated saying there was nothing anyone could do so what was the point?! They mentioned a private hospital, community care etc but needed some time to gather all the available options. So once they had made a decision, they would come back and let me know, but they did say they wouldn't be sending me back to the psych ward I nearly died in. I didn't even care at that point.

After, I had a strange text from my dad asking me to call him so I did. He asked me what was going on as he'd just been informed by the AMHP that I was to be placed on a section 2 and bought into hospital with the potential of being transferred to a unit in Brighton (2 hours away!). I promptly shut the call down and the staff came out of the office, probably seeing the distress written all over my face.

How could the AMHP call my dad without my consent and tell him I was suicidal, writing goodbye letters and that it had been going on since October?! My Dad must have felt so upset, confused and afraid. That was completely unfair and should have at the least been discussed with me! I didn't want him to find out.

The therapist asked to talk to me with a support worker and I just stared at the floor, broken. He said I must be feeling really angry. Of course I was angry! I was being sectioned forced into a nut house and my poor dad had been told in the worst way possible! I sobbed and he said that if I would let him he'd hold me tight. Only he knows my issues with men so that wasn't really an option. Instead I walked back to my room, utterly defeated.

I quietly shut my door and had just got to my wardrobe when there was a knock on the door and the dietetic assistant came in. She said she had a horrible feeling I would try and end my life. I glared at her and begged her to leave, but she wouldn't. Had she given me just 15 minutes alone I wouldn't be here. I think she may have known that too.

As we spoke I heard a car pull up, so had a quick look out my window and saw a silver van, instantly I knew they were there for me. I was right. The AMHP came into my room and he said he had heard I had found out about being sectioned and that was the case. He told me I had 15 minutes to get some things together as the van was waiting for me outside. I asked what would happen if I refused, his told me there were four staff and they would physically remove me if necessary.

After a lot of tears and persuading by the dietetic assistant I reluctantly packed my things and was escorted by her, the AMHP and a support worker. The van staff took my things and saw me in. I told myself that if I went "voluntarily" then the psychiatrist would see I was ok and didn't need to be in hospital in the first place and discharge me.

Despite going by the wrong hospital, we arrived at the right one 40 minutes later. The journey had been bumpy I felt nauseous from a mixture of car sickness and anxiety but I had arrived.

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