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struggling-with-drivers · 2 months

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Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen

⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.

⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort

⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread.

Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.

"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."

Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.

Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building.

“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined.

Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.

However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.

Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange.

Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."

As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.

"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.

With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.

She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.

Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer.

Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.

Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.

Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.

“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.

Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.

Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.

Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.

"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.

"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."

You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.

Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.

Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.

As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.

You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."

Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"

The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."

The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.

"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"

You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.

“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you.

Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella.

Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.

It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach.

“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”

You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.

As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.

"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"

Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."

Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.

"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."

“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.

Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.

"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."

Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.

Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"

“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.

Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"

Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."

Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.

Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.

As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.

When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."

Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."

The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her.

The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.

Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day.

When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company."

Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.

Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."

Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."

Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.

"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.

Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."

You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.

You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.

Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."

“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”

“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours.

As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.

Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.

"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."

His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.

You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"

A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch.

The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.

As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one

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thisthisthisandthis · 2 years

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well.

#the women’s field is so equally matched today but there is something going on with canadian fed and gabby.#i love her and young’s 2t was so unfortunate but the goe differences in the top 4 🤔🤔🤔🤔#and in dance… we all saw this coming #g/pa were MUCH better today. love their skating hate the program thats the way it goes in a latin theme season baby #g/po… they did look great today and i love them unabashedly but their lead is unnecessarily huge lol #same goes for f/g #skate canada 2022

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rimunagenius · 2 months

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And They Were Roomates

☙ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

☙ word count: 2.5k words

☙ warnings: RPF!! use of y/n, not proof read.

☙ ri speaks: I need more kate martin content and i haven’t been fed the specific ones that i need so i must write them to the best of my horrendous abilities. Idek how good this will be…im sorry in advance LMFAO. also this is two thousand five hundred words but it looks a lot shorter….crying

this is also a general announcement that i will indeed be refreshing my blog, so that means new and updated master lists and posts are coming out soon so sorry if you get a spam of rimunagenius on your feed!!

Part 1

| Series Masterlist |

When you first started in Iowa, you never expected the immediate love you recieved from the people there. They were friendly, generous, and so much different from people in California. Especially your roommate, Kate Martin. You had met her shortly after your first day of Junior year. A while after, you two became roomates because you needed more space, and she needed someone to split rent with in her apartment. Sounded like a great deal to both of you.

"You don't mind?" You asked unsure. Not wanting to impose on her, possibly ruining plans with making a deal with her actual teammates.

"No! Not at all! I really like you and you're alot of fun! I'd love for you to move in with me." She beamed at you, giving you a side hug when she saw your expression change. You both were ecstatic.

Since then, you had been living with Kate for almost two years. You two had become inseparable. Always on campus together, meeting up between classes to get coffee or lunch together, sometimes with Caitlin and your other friends. It was great. You were happy with your home away from home.

You had transfered from UC Irvine and decided to pursue your degree and career in sports medicine here in Iowa City. You were one of the new athletic trainees and ocassionly a photographer; your previous major was in photography and Lisa and the administration had really loved your resume and work, so they hired you as a part time (barely) photographer, for whenever they wanted more shots than what they usually wanted or a fill in.

Currently, you were needed in the Carver stadium to help record a mic’d up practice session for the team. It was for the Iowa Hawkeye Youtube channel. You had experience because you too had a youtube channel that you started when you first transferred to Iowa. So you had told Lisa and the coaches that you’d be able to film it.

“Hey, Gabbie!” You smiled at her as you walked into the locker room, approaching Kate’s cubby to set your stuff down. Kate telling you this morning before she left that you could put your stuff with hers.

“Hey, girlie! So guess what?” You and Gabbie loved to gossip. It was so much fun and it started when you were redoing the tape on her ankles, and she looked down so you asked her about it, and since then, you both have told eachother whatever gossip you had.

“Oh my god, what?” You took your sweater out of your bag, the locker room being chilly, so you could imagine the court.

“So that boy Nick in my econ class, totally asked about you today. I didn’t want to crush his hopes and dreams but I did say you weren’t his type.” She took a seat next to where you were standing to put her shoes on.

“Wait, the boy I said would so be my type if he was a girl? That Nick?” You laughed because he was really nice and such a sweet guy but he just wasn’t a girl. Men are pretty but only to look at.

“Yes!”

“How’d he take it?” This guy has asked you out once before but you just said you weren’t looking to date. Probably should’ve elaborated on that one.

“But he asked me “Oh, who is? Does he go here?” And I was like,” she paused to reenact the face she made. “I said it too fast so I didn’t have time to say “Oh, It’s long distance or something” sooo I don’t know.” She rambled and just pulled her hair into a small ponytail.

“What do you mean? That made no sense, Gab.” You were confused. She looked guilty of something but you didn’t want to pressure her but you also really wanted to know what she had said about you to Nick.

“I kinda sorta said you had a girlfriend already, and he took that as ‘Oh, she’s dating her roommate Kate Martin’ because he said he supposedly sees you guys together everywhere.” She meant well. It really wasn’t her fault that Nick totally misread the situation.

“Oh shit.” Your jaw dropped. You thought it was awkward but now it went full fledged horrendous. You were already out, and anyone who followed your insta would’ve saw it in your stories, so you weren’t worried about that but you were worried for Kate.

“So what do we do about the fact that a random kid on campus thinks your dating Kate?”

“Ok wait, i’m actually scared. Like how do you think Kate will take it?” You were talking to Gabbie and immediately knew you fucked up by seeing the expression on her face.

“How will I take what?” Kate walked in, hair down, dressed in her practice uniform, and sat on the chair next to you. You hadn’t realized that you sat down with Gabbie. Lost in the conversation and frenzy of the new mess that could possibly affect yours and Kate’s social life dramatically.

“I’m just gonna…” Gabbie got up, and walked out, meeting the others outside on the court.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a minute.” You said to the girl before turning to Kate. You had caught her up on the lore behind you and Nick, if you could even call this one sided infatuation lore. Now you just had to tell her the problem. “So Gabbie tried to tell him that I was already seeing some girl. But Nick jumped to this whole conclusion that me and you were together.”

You watched her face. Looking for any sort of negative reaction. Waiting for her to blow up on you. “Oh.”

“And when Gabbie tried to say it wasn’t you and that were just friends, and that my supposed girlfriend lives in California, he got up and left. So it may be possible that the whole Iowa college campus will assume we’re together.” You played with your fingers as you watched her some more. Still waiting for her explosion.

“I mean, I don’t mind. He sounded weird so if it keeps the guy away from you, i’m okay with being the ‘pretend’ girlfriend.” She shrugged her shoulders. Grabbing her shoes from behind you, your chair sitting right infront of the cubby that belonged to her:

“Kate. Are you sure? This is so random and so strange and I would totally get it if your uncomfortable.” You wanted it to be clear that this situation could go away if she was uncomfortable. If she was uncomfortable you’d go on a date with him and just tell him it won’t work after. It’d be bad for you if he goes around saying rude things but you couldn’t care less about people you don’t know. You just wanted to make sure Kate wasn’t the one feeling weird.

“Yeah, I mean—I don’t have to kiss you in public, right? I feel like that’s overstepping a boundary we have not thought about setting.”

“No, Kate. You do not have to kiss me in public. Wait so you’d kiss me in private?” You looked at the girl, now fully joking around as you wiggled your eyebrows and laughed.

“Oh yeah for sure.” Kate made a funny face while nodding her head before grabbing her water and standing up. You following behind to get this practice and video recording started.

“Oh, and your getting mic’d up today. I don’t know if Coach Lisa told you.” You say as you both walk onto the court.

You and Kate had showered, separately unfortunately, and sat on the couch. You had been trying to convince her the whole way home from practice to watch New Girl. She agreed after ten excruciating minutes of your nagging.

You were deciding to pick the snack you wanted, grabbing M&Ms you bought at the store yesterday, snickers, chips, and popcorn. You wanted to watch as many episodes as possible because you both started school late tomorrow and it was an off day for practice.

“What are these practices anyways? Are they like preseason workouts to get back in shape or?” You watched Kate as she picked her snacks.

“Yeah. Basically. We’re technically only allowed to goof off a little during those ones.” Kate laughed, referring to the mic’d up practice today. Coach Lisa usually wants a more focused and intimate space during the actual season. “Oh my. What if we just kill this whole tub of Neapolitan ice cream?” Kate took it out of the freezer and suddenly all your snack choices went back to the cabinets.

“Ou deal, Martin.” You grabbed two spoons before making your way to the couch. Grabbing the blanket off the backrest, and throwing it over you both. You both settled and got comfy ready to start the marathon of New Girl.

You were both sitting in silence after you decided to just do a highlight reel of episodes since you weren’t going to force Kate to watch multiple seasons. "Are you excited for this upcoming season? Your last season?" You asked as you looked to your right. Kate was seated next to you while you both decided to disregard bowls and just eat the ice cream straight from the tub. She held the tub as you both dug what you wanted out of it. She shoved more ice cream into her mouth and she smiled and nodded her head.

"I am. Just scared and sad." She said somewhat incoherently due to not having swallowed the mouthful of ice cream. You nodded your head. You had already adapted to the Kate language. When she talked while yawning, mouth full, her body language, and her facial expressions. Not many people were fluent like you, and you were actually proud to be one of the people. So you understood exactly what she meant. You saw everything else she was feeling just by the look in her eye and the shape of her lips.

But you also felt sad for her too. You’d both be a sixth-year, grad students, in a couple months. This year bigger for her more than you. This year being her last and final run in her collegiate career. This was huge. You both knew this but wanted to focus on the nicer aspects. You and the girls would support her and be her friend even if she decided to never touched a basketball again. You guys were for life.You didn’t play, so you felt there was nothing you thought you could say other than just being her friend.

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. A small comforting hug, atleast a hug at which this position provided, and kissed the top of her head. You only used terms of endearment like this in small, comforting, intimate moments. You felt this was the right time. "I'll be here for you, and you have the girls. We’ll back you in whatever you do, outside of basketball and school. You can’t ever get rid of us if you tried. But I will give you all the support and all the ice cream you can eat right now." You smiled at the blonde. You both stared at eachother, a little too long, “We are not beating the supposed ‘girlfriend’ allegations right now, Martin.” She bursted out laughing. You not far behind.

"But seriously, thanks shortie." She said as she patted your knee, right before she lost it again and laughed out loud. You immediatey cringed at the name, and pushed her away from you.

"OH! my god! Immediately no, Kate." You laughed again, half embarassment and half amusement. "That is not funny. You sound like a frat boy." That earned another snort laugh from Kate.

"You're right. I'm sorry." You side-eyed her. Pulling the blanket a little closer to you. Scooting over the tiniest bit over to feign anger and hurt. Still managing to catch her movement through your peripheral.

"Bro, I'm not even that much shorter than you. Just short three inches." You rolled your eyes at your best friend, turning back to the episode where Jess and Nick kiss eachother for the first time. Your favorite episode.

"Yes, I know. I know how you feel about my short jokes. I almost cried when you ignored me for three and a half days." Kate chuckled as she looked to you her smile dropping, a frown forming when you still didn't acknowledge her. "Oh, come on, y/n. Don't ignore me again, please! I was kidding." She asked you while chuckling nervously, she asked you two more times, when that didn’t work she insisted on poking you for a two minutes straight.

"Okay, Kate. I forgive you. Now shush, my favorite part is coming up." You kept your eyes on the screen and tried to reach for your spoon in the tub. Your fingers reaching everywhere but your spoon. "Kate can you help me please?"

"Yes, but haven't you already seen this show like eight-billion times?" She grabbed a spoon, whichever one was closest, forgetting which one was which, and scooping a good spoonful, before bringing the spoon to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth and took the ice cream happily.

"Thank you, you big teddy bear. God's gift, I'm telling you." You said as you watched the best scene on sitcom TV about to unfold.

"Im just going to pretend you're talking about me and not your show." Kate whispered. "You're welcome, pretty." She said louder so you could hear.

That got your attention. It wasn’t something that you hadn’t heard come out of her mouth and directed to you before; she's called you pretty multiple times when you had asked if the outfit you were wearing out looked good or if the makeup you put on was good for this dinner a girl you were seeing on and off wanted to take you out to. But she's never once used it in this context. You got a nervous feeling in your stomach, something you recognized as butterflies for sure. Fighting the urge to smile at the compliment, a small blush creeping up on your cheeks. Fighting the thoughts you had about her.

It was something new but this one thing…this you weren't going to get used to. You guys were best friends and just roomates. You can't feel anyway about this.You decided to ignore it and take it as a compliment in the moment to make up for the short joke. It definitely wasn’t something serious as you were making.

"I was talking about both of you. The TV and you, Kit-Kate." You put your arm around her shoulder and continued to watch the show. Watching the scene you had been waiting for all night to play. “This was the best cinematic experience I have ever had.” You whispered, now reaching for the spoon again for some ice cream.

Kate beating you to it, already having got another spoonful for you, feeding it to you like she did a couple of seconds ago. You smiled and thanked her before you both decided to cut the show, and search for a movie of both your choosing this time.

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theartofangirling · 8 months

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part 2 of the 2023 version of this post: young adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 3: adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

aces wild by amanda dewitt

the chandler legacies by abdi nazemian

bruised by tanya boteju

juliet takes a breath by gabby rivera

picture us in the light by kelly loy gilbert

when we were magic by sarah gailey

iron widow by xiran jay zhao

the rise of kyoshi by f.c. yee

jane unlimited by kristin cashore

summer of salt by katrina leno

the wicker king by k. ancrum

the dead and the dark by courtney gould

wilder girls by rory power

i kissed shara wheeler by casey mcquiston

her royal highness by rachel hawkins

tell me how you really feel by aminah mae safi

the weight of the stars by k. ancrum

you should see me in a crown by leah johnson

last night at the telegraph club by malinda lo

the grief keeper by alexandra villasante

crier's war by nina varela

how to excavate a heart by jake maia arlow

imogen, obviously by becky albertalli

in other lands by sarah rees brennan

carry on by rainbow rowell

cemetery boys by aiden thomas

felix ever after by kacen callendar

i wish you all the best by mason deaver

little thieves by margaret owen

technically you started it by lana wood johnson

the gentleman's guide to vice and virtue by mackenzi lee

the infinite noise by lauren shippen

bonds of brass by emily skrutskie

the darkness outside us by eliot schrefer

simon vs. the homo sapiens agenda by becky albertalli

what if it's us by becky albertalli and adam silvera

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire sáenz

like a love story by abdi nazemian

different for boys by patrick ness

history is all you left me by adam silvera

twelfth grade night by molly horton booth, stephanie kate strohm, and jamie green

across a field of starlight by blue delliquanti

heartstopper by alice oseman

check, please! by ngozi ukazu

bloom by kevin panetta and savanna ganucheau

laura dean keeps breaking up with me by mariko tamaki and rosemary valero-o'connell

the princess and the grilled cheese sandwich by deya muniz

if you'll have me by eunnie

on a sunbeam by tillie walden

the girl from the sea by molly knox ostertag

always human by ari north

rust in the root by justina ireland

dread nation by justina ireland

pet by awkwaeke emezi

the darkest part of the forest by holly black

elatsoe by darcie little badger

i was born for this by alice oseman

loveless by alice oseman

i hate everyone but you by gaby dunn and allison raskin

you know me well by nina lacour and david levithan

the black flamingo by dean atta

spinning by tillie walden

dreadnought by april daniels

a lesson in vengeance by victoria lee

all the bad apples by moira fowley-doyle

clap when you land by elizabeth acevedo

summer bird blue by akemi dawn bowman

the miseducation of cameron post by emily m. danforth

we are okay by nina lacour

radio silence by alice oseman

we used to be friends by amy spalding

a neon darkness by lauren shippen

i hope you get this message by farah naz rishi

are you listening? by tillie walden

alone in space by tillie walden

all out edited by saundra mitchell

out now edited by saundra mitchell

out there edited by saundra mitchell

#lgbtq+ books #queer books #book recommendations #gay books #ya books #lgbtq+ ya books #book flow chart #part 2 of 3!#dear god this almost twice as many books as the previous flow chart. and it's JUST YA.#mp

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lovewithmary · 8 months

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THE ENGINEER | MCU X FORMULA ONE CROSSOVER

summary: hell hath no fury than a woman scorned. or, where viviana is pissed.

fc: gabbi garcia

author’s note: I lowkey want to write viviana doing interviews solo and with other drivers? like a 'who knows me better' with mick, max, and viviana then mick and max compete to see who knows her better. would you guys like to see that?

btw i put the potential guys viviana might end up with as tags, so if you want to see who she might be with, go ahead.

twitter (i WILL NOT call it the other name)

"Mick!"

Mick turned around upon hearing his name being called from behind, only to see Lando and Oscar. "Have you been on Twitter today?" Lando asked, and Mick shook his head no.

Lando sighed, causing Mick to worry about what could possibly be on Twitter to make him and Oscar go to him. "It's bad, mate. People have been accusing Viviana of boosting you and Max," Oscar informed him.

Mick's eyes opened wide, not expecting that. He expected more of the dating rumors considering it's all he's been able to see on his timeline. They were admittedly funny but also concerning, considering they ranged from Viviana dating one of the guys on the grid behind his and Max's back to Viviana being in a poly relationship with all the single guys on the grid.

He had to block the person who made the latter rumor since the image was too specific for him to not think about it. Mick could barely make eye contact with anyone that day.

"Do you think Viviana has seen it?" Lando questioned, and Mick shook his head no.

"We would've known by now if Viviana had seen it, she hates whenever someone says that one of her friends used her for an advantage," Mick told them.

There was one and only one time that Viviana had been genuinely used by someone for their own benefit. She had met someone in Peter's High School (she was in college at that point, getting her 2nd degree) and she had thought that he genuinely liked her and vice versa.

But it turned out that he just wanted her to put in a good word for her dad, and she ultimately dumped him and blacklisted him from getting any Stark Industries job in the future. To her, she claimed, "If he had to use me to get a chance with the company, then he wasn't good enough to get in by pure skill."

Mick looked at both McLaren guys and hesitantly asked, "do any of the other guys believe the rumor?"

Both Oscar and Lando shook their heads, relieving Mick since he didn't want to ruin any friendships he had with the guys just because of a baseless rumor. "We all agreed it was a pretty shit rumor, to be honest," Oscar commented.

Mick quirked a smile upon hearing that, amused at the Australian. He then felt his phone buzz, which made him realize that he had to look for both Viviana and Max in order to warn them. "Sorry, guys, I need to go find Viviana and Max," he excused himself.

But before he could leave, Lando blurted out, "Are Viviana and Max dating? I know they said they weren't but they act like boyfriend and girlfriend,"

"Viviana and Max... have a different relationship. I don't really want to say a lot because it's not my story to tell, but Viviana helped Max with a lot when it came to Jos since she was the only one willing to stand up to him. And when Tony became Iron Man and then the Avengers happened, Max was a really big help to Viviana," Mick tried to explain.

"And how about you?"

"I'm the one that helps out the both of them, just like they do to me,"

Viviana was currently on a phone call with potential investors for Stark Industries, which was why Max offered his driver's room for her privacy. And in an effort to try and waste time while he had nothing to do, he was walking around the paddock.

Which was where Carlos, Pierre, Charles, Daniel, and Alex saw Max, which prompted the Redbull driver to talk to them.

"Did Viviana come today?" Carlos questioned, and immediately, Max was suspicious of the two Ferrari drivers.

"She had a call for her company, so she's currently in my driver's room," Max explained.

"I thought she wouldn't come because of the rumors about her," Charles carelessly said.

"What rumors?" Max questioned.

"Oh, you haven't heard the rumors yet..." Charles awkwardly said.

"What rumors?" was all Max repeated.

"People have been saying that Viviana is the reason why you and Mick are in the position you guys are in," Alex explained.

"What?! That's ridiculous," Max said.

"Which is what we said, but a lot of people on social media are saying otherwise," Carlos said.

"MAX!" Mick yelled out, capturing the attention of the group of drivers.

"Did you see—"

"Let me see the tweet," Max demanded and Mick wordlessly gave him his phone, which already had the tweet up.

"No way FIA would investigate something based on a rumor,"

"FIA have investigated for less,"

"Do you think?—"

"Parang hindi nila alam na kahit wala ako, magaling sila. Mga bobo." It's like they don't know that even without me, they're still good. Idiots. Viviana said, practically marching towards the growing group of drivers, evidently mad.

"Nakita mo to?" Did you see this? Viviana said.

"Vi, you're speaking in Tagalog again. And no matter how much we try to learn, we still can't understand it whenever you speak fast," Mick told her, reminding her she had to calm down.

"The tweet. Did you see the stupid tweet? I mean come on, we only revealed that we're friends this year but suddenly I'm the reason why the teams aren't performing the way that they should? It's not my fault other teams aren't that good!" Viviana ranted.

A cough from behind Viviana was heard, making the girl freeze. She swore silently to herself before turning around, only to see a couple of drivers that belonged to said teams that weren't good, according to her.

She awkwardly laughed, amusing some of the drivers who thought that this was a nice change compared to her usual composed professional self they'd always seen on the rare time she was being interviewed. "I'm sorry, but only because you heard me and not because of what I've said," Viviana honestly told them.

"Good save, Vi," Max said, enjoying the fact that his best friend was making what was originally an angering moment for her turned awkward.

"Shut up, Max. Anyways, what should I do with the rumors?" Viviana asked.

"I don't think you should say anything," Daniel spoke up, causing everyone to look at him.

He looked unsure for a second because of the sudden amount of eyes on him, but once he looked at Viviana, who was confused at what he said, he elaborated, "Whether or not you say something won't change anything. These people are convinced you did something, so you should stay quiet for now since you did nothing wrong,"

"Who are you and what have you done with Daniel Ricciardo?" Pierre jokingly said, causing the other drivers to laugh.

"Hey, I can give out good advice!" Daniel tried defending himself.

"Yeah, but they usually come with back up plans A-Z," Charles said.

"Well, it can't be any worse than my original plan," Viviana thoughtfully said.

"What was your original plan?" Alex questioned.

"Make a F1 Team and buy my way in," she nonchalantly said, shocking those around her.

"What?!"

"Well, I'm obviously not going to do that. But, I would try to prove people wrong and it'd send a message of, 'you'd know if I did something' but people would probably get angry because of who I am and my last name," she rolled her eyes.

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 ig au #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #carlos sainz x reader #mick schumacher x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader

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nanabrainrot · 10 months

Text

Leg Lock [Pervert!Miguel]

Miguel isn’t convinced you’re as adept in as many martial arts as you say; he says you can only prove it with a spar.

Warning! NSFW content ahead. DUBIOUS CONSENT - reader is oblivious the way he’s wrestling is to cop a feel and that he cums on himself :/ what a freak

Pervert!Miguel x F!Oblivious!Reader

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You were none the wiser. Your spidey senses just didn’t pick up on the ways of men - you were no mind reader. The definition of book smart but not street smart. It’s unbelievable you accepted his personal “challenge” to spar and no less showed up in this ensemble: the smallest compression shorts that was barely even the size of boyshorts and a form fitting tank with a v that dipped dangerously low to the stretch of skin between your tits.

The fact he turned up the air conditioner and had the fan looming above on full blast only served to sweeten the sight by making your nipples pebble against the polyester mix. If he put enough friction across your chest, if you were sensitive you’d surely moan or at least give him a choked gasp; something to jack off to later.

“You ready to eat your words, Miguel?” you huffed seriously. The comical difference between you two was shown in the shadow cast by the fluorescent overhead light in the spinning fan: he was standing hands on his hips and stone-faced at one end of the personal training room and you at the other, bouncing on the balls of your feet with hands already stiff in front like a boxer. It didn’t help it looked like a yippy chihuahua hounding a rottweiler for a fight.

“Just try to at least land a hit -“

You lunged forward, shin flying up to try and meet his neck only to be blocked by his forearm. His eyes widen at your fast pace, but narrow as he meets your onslaught of moves with defenses. The little wraps around your fists do graze his skin as you batter at him with a flurry of fists like a boxer, though your kicks definitely reminded him of capoeira. The speed of it had to be from mixed martial arts and speedboxing while your grace and precision was karate inspired. And he could tell you did jiu jitsu by the way you tried to get him in a leg lock, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist and use your arms to push at his neck hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

You had to have known that move would have put you in this position: back pressed hard to the mat with no way out. You were incredibly skilled, surprising him with the flurry of fists and kicks fast enough to put him in a position where he could only really use defense but definitely underestimated what he was willing to do to best you.

Miguel had a black belt in jiu jitsu, teaching classes at the dojo Gabby went to back in Nueva York, hard pressed to raise a girl who could handle her own. If you hadn’t overestimated yourself and started off using so much energy, you wouldn’t be panting like this.

Your brows knit, face tense with focus as you gauged your next move but his mind was anywhere but this spar: his cock was against your groin. The sorry excuse of shorts left nothing to the imagination only confirmed that under it was nothing but your bare puffy cunt as his knees drove into the mat to set you in place under him, your wrists pinned under his. “You didn’t land a hit. Too big of an ego can get you -“

A hard impact of your feet hitting his pecs and sending him back from the surprise as you rolled back in a tuck and jumped to your feet back in a boxing stance. Flyaways stuck out from your messy hair from being pinned to the mat as your chest heaved, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“Can get me what?” you snorted in between short breaths.

“Get you -“ Miguel lunged forward, his legs long and strong enough to dart behind you to grab you by the waist and drag you to the floor, “-killed.”

Whines and grunts of struggle left you as you tried to get out of the compromising position: Miguel had you in a nelson on the floor, big hot palms of his hands on your neck and arm pinning back your biceps as you tried to grab at his wrists to apply enough force to get him to have a looser grip.

Too focused is a bad thing, sometimes. The fabric of your volleyball compression shorts that were more like panties rode up as your ass grinded against his groin - cock hard and twitching in his sweatpants as your feet struggled to get enough friction with the mat to be able to do a backbend or tuck and roll to use your flexibility. Dozens of possible routes flit in your mind and zero of them acknowledged you were basically being dry humped by Miguel: his grunts from the friction mistakes for grunts of effort. In reality, you were easy to restrain but the issue was your agility and speed compared to his strength - a given granted his strength based workout regimen versus yours, which focused on flexibility.

“If powers were allowed, I’d have had you pinned in the first minute,” you panted, lip twitching in focus as you continued to roll your hips against his as you struggled to find footing to be able to utilize your flexibility and roll over him. He must be smart, you think (stupidly), as his legs suddenly push against the mat and have him standing: yet you hang there in a full nelson. “That’s not funny, Miguel!” you hissed, as his forearms settled under your thighs during the shift and the palms secured at your neck still. The size difference suddenly made you realize why spars had size and weight classes; but there were no weight classes with the villains and anomalies you regularly encountered, he chastisted as he offered a spar with you.

If you had your powers allowed, you would’ve had him against the ceiling by now. But you shook on it. God, you wish you had a weaker sense of integrity and just said fuck it and blasted him with your power to get out of this humiliating debacle. The only thing left in reach was his fingers.

Your hands fly to the fingers locked behind your neck keeping you mid air as you resorted to a dirty trick: scratching with nails. A low hiss emits as he drops you and loses footing, landing on top of you: groin to ass. The dirty trick leaves him huffing with anger as he suddenly has you in a head lock, your hands batting at him pathetically. You just wanted to tap out, he could tell, but he just needed one thing: to have his way.

His hips roll into your pussy, feigning it as trying to keep you pinned by shifting weight from knee to knee in a side-to-side motion and lurched forward sometimes. The fact you kept bucking your hips to get out of the pin only helped him along; the warmth of your pussy would have been nicer, but next spar. Knowing your competitive nature, you would go along with a naked wrestling competition if it meant coming out on top.

But he’s on top right now, his hot breath fanning your ear as you mewl and bat at the thick forearnms around your neck pinning you. “F-fine…!” you whine out, borderline pornographic in your pleading, “you win!”

His hips roll again, with you still bucking your hips back into him. “Say it again.” He knew your whiny nature, the way when you wanted your way you would do anything: most missions consisted of you pleading and begging to see the sights on other dimensions or stop by food stalls like you were on vacation. He fucking spoiled you but even bratty bitches need discipline.

“You win!”

“Louder!”

“You win, Miguel!”

A hot pant. Fuck, the way you were whining and bucking in this position was getting him close. A few more words and he’d surely cum, wearing the dark sweatpants and a long baggy tee that loomed over where the wet spot would be specifically with this in mind. No powers put you in a disadvantage, the height and mass difference would never let you win. A spar was just a reason to hump you as you stupidly wriggled and cried out. One more sentence, then he’ll cum, cum and stop. The urge will leave and he can go back to being sated and content without distraction; he was too busy to keep entertaining this disgusting fantasy of fucking you every day and night. Just one more sentence to freedom.

A hot puff of air in your ear before a deep raspy voice hisses, “Now tell me I’m big and strong and I’ll let you go.” Your eyes widen as you look in confusion at the mat, his face behind you as you chest was still glued to the mat thanks to his weight.

“T-tell you what?”

“Say ‘you’re too big and strong for me, Miguel.’” A roll of the hips.

“No! I can still win!” you buck back harder, hips shifting hard between his groin and the mat to try and get out. Your nails sink into his forearms but he doesn’t move. You can’t get out until you say it. It’s a shameful dawn of emotion that wounds your pride. But you can get stronger, spar with him more, until you can beat him - powers or no powers.

“Say it and you can go.” The wriggling winds down as time stretches, you finally going limp and panting on the mat with his weight still crushing you.

A gulp.

Softer than a whisper, “You’re so big and strong, Miguel…”

The cum spurts into his briefs, inevitably ruining them and leaving a wet spot in the pants. You’re too tired, limp, to feel his clothed dick twitch against your pussy through the shorts.

You don’t even feel happy when he clumbers off you; in your universe you were a master of the arts and your powers only enhanced this great feat. Yet, you still lost to your boss. You want a rematch.

No.

You need a rematch.

He clumbers away, slow heavy footfalls and low panting breaths as he strides to the exit of the personal training room. Sitting back on your heels still panting but back to him as he walked away you find enough energy to ask: “Same time next week, Miguel?”

You’ll win. You’ll run a million miles, do a thousand crunches, and eat your weight - no, Miguel’s weight in protein and come out victorious next week as you always do. Just because he’s a man it didn’t mean you had no chance: it only meant you had to work harder.

Quiet. He’s panting though, you hear it, but the strain in his voice isn’t just from the spar: “Same time next week.”

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hope yall likedd feel free to leave requests or anything in my inbox! its p empty rn - I have a hobie fic coming next <3

#nana writes spiderverse #nana writes #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader smut #miguel o’hara x you smut #miguel o’hara x y/n smut

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st4rymoon · 5 months

Note

Can you do a Miguel Ohara imagine where you were the multiverse doppelgänger of his wife that died (since he had a daughter we can assume he had a wife). You fell through a rip in your universe, sending Miguel and his team on a mission to return you to your universe. When Miguel sees Y/N, at first he thinks it’s not real (there’s only two versions of his wife, and y/n was the other). When you first meet, y/n could tell that something is wrong with Miguel. He is distant, won’t hold eye contact…etc. Eventually he snaps and confesses and he is emotional and conflicted (cause he just wants to hug and kiss y/n)

OMGGG 😭 this is 💔💔💔

𝐄𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ・Miguel O'Hara x Fem Reader

- MAJOR angst, fluff, sad Miguel :( , no use of y/n, hugging, mentions of Miguel in a diff universe, mentions of Dr. strange, reader give Miguel a kiss on the cheek, crying

Miguel and Jessica rushed through the streets of Nueva York the second they noticed an intrusion. They both hope it isn’t anything too bizarre or catastrophic, they weren’t in the mood for any of it.

Jessica looked at her wrist, watching for any unusual movements. You, on the other hand, were confused and scared. One second you were cooking dinner and the next you were inside a completely different world.

Everything was darker than your world, the style was similar but had obvious contrasts. “I think I found it or rather her” Jessica radioed through the earpiece.

Miguel sighed in relief “a hostile?”

“Definitely not”

You wondered around the streets, unaware of the eyes on you. Miguel let out an audible gasp as he noticed you, his eyes widened in shock and admiration.

“I- Jessica you take care of th- this” he shakily muttered. Jessica was surprised by his response, never in her life had she seen Miguel so pale. “Hey, hey what’s wrong?” Jessica softly spoke.

Miguel started at you, mouth wide open as he took in what he lost not so long ago. He couldn’t believe it. “I- th- that’s my- or was my wife… I didn’t know others existed” his tone was shaky and full of sorrow. He didn’t sound like himself.

His heart was beating out of his chest, he was sweating profusely, his mind went foggy at the sudden shock. “Oh” Jessica couldn’t believe it either, what a coincidence that the thing to split through the universe was you.

“I know this is a lot but she’s scared, I think if I went up to her it would only do worse. I- I think we should both go down and talk to her. Maybe if she sees a familiar face she won’t freak out” Jessica tried her best to convince him.

He was stiff as a board, not moving or talking as his eyes followed your form.

“Ok”

Miguel knew he should’ve said no for his own well being but he couldn’t let this moment slip. He needed to see you up close, he needed a hug, a kiss, or anything you’d give him.

Both Miguel and Jessica swooped down behind you “Excuse me?” Jessica softly spoke. You turned around with precaution, the fear in your eyes disappearing as you saw your husband, Miguel.

“Miguel! Oh my god, what the hell is happening? One second I was cooking for you and Gabriella and then I’m here!” You babbled on as you sighed in relief.

Miguel’s eyes were watering at your voice, he thought he’d never hear it again. He watched as your soft lips moved with every word. Jessica cringed at your words, she knew that would hurt.

“Um miss?” Jessica spoke “Ms. O’Hara” you winked teasingly as you hugged Miguel.

He was silent, he didn’t even know if he was breathing. “As insane as it may seem this isn’t your universe, I think you can tell from the change in scenery” Jessica continued, causing you to pull back from Miguel.

“Oh, that stuff is real? I thought that Dr. Strange Guy was just making it all up” you chuckled “So… you’re my husband? In a different universe?” You asked confusingly while turning back to Miguel.

“No…” Miguel faintly spoke. “I lost gabby, I lost you”

It was silent. You stared at him with confusion “Lost us? As in-“ you were cut off before you could finish “Yes! As in dead! Now let’s just send you back to your universe so I don’t need to relieve this hell” Miguel snapped.

You understood his pain. Even if he wasn’t with you in this universe, you knew he loved you and Gabriella. You couldn’t imagine losing any of them back in your universe.

“You’re just like my Miguel back at home” You smiled as you cupped his cheeks “Such a temper” you chuckled. Miguel leaned into your palm, sighing in relief “I know it must be hard to lose something you loved but just know, I’ll love you in every universe. I bet you were an amazing dad to Gabby and a wonderful husband to me in this universe. Just like you are in mine”

“So whatever happened to us, don’t let it get the best of you. You deserve to be happy Miguel, you deserve everything in this damn world” You smiled “And what if what I want is you and Gabby?” Tears began to fall down his cheeks, he didn’t know how to explain the emotions he was feeling.

He was still amazed that you were just as good at keeping your composure and somehow dealt with things like it was an everyday occurrence. You fell through your universe and landed in a different one, comforting your doppelgänger husband.

Only you would be able to do that.

“Then you will, you’ll start a beautiful family again. Just because you lost us doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love with someone new” you hummed. “That’s what you deserve, all the love in the world”

Miguel felt like he was in a dream, this was so surreal. You felt his tears stream down his face as he finally wrapped his arms around you. You could feel your heartbeat at the sound of his sobs, he was shaking in your arms.

“I know it’s hard but don’t let me and Gabby hold you back ok?” You gently spoke “estas escuchando?” You scolded teasingly.

Miguel let out a soft chuckle “si”

You pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek before you let go “We are both here, me and Gabby aren’t gone. Don’t feel guilty about anything ok?”

Miguel said nothing as he buried himself in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. His arms wrapped around you tighter as you ran your arm up and down his back.

Jessica cleared her throat “I think it’s time for you to get back to your universe” She patted Miguel on the back, giving him the sign that you couldn’t be in here for too long.

“Take care of him for me” You smiled at Jessica as she opened a portal for you “I sure will.” Miguel stood with sorrow in his eyes as you gave him his last goodbye “Don’t let this ruin your perception of love hun, neither me nor Gabby in any universe would want that for you” You smiled as you let go of his hand.

He nodded in agreement knowing you were right. He couldn’t get you back, but he could try to rebuild what he once had.

He wish he could say I love you as you walked through the portal and back to what he wishes was his.

#miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara fluff #fluff #miguel o hara angst #angst

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mrchiipchrome · 29 days

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Character Introductions

(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)

-------------------

Nika Mühl as herself

Height: 5’11

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)

Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)

Nationality: Croatian

Instagram: nika.muhl

Alt: nikalovesbball

“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”

“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”

“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”

You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)

Height: Tall as fuck

Age: 18

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)

Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain

Nationality: English

Instagram: y/n.y/l/n

Alt: norflondonforever

“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”

“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”

“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”

Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore

Height: 5’9

Age: 20

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)

Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: emwhit18

Alt: thebetterwhitmore

“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”

“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”

“Will you stop singing that already?”

Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore

Height: 6’4

Age: 23

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)

Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: callumwhitmore

Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway

“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”

“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”

“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels

Height: 6’0

Age: 66

School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team

Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being

Nationality: American

Instagram: headcoachdaniels

Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart

“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”

“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”

“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”

Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen

Height: 5’11

Age: 62

School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach

Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir

Nationality: American/British

Instagram: headcoachhansen

Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him

“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”

“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”

Paige Bueckers as herself

Height: 6’0

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)

Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother

Nationality: American

Instagram: paigebueckers

Alt: p5buckets

“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”

“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”

“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”

Leah Williamson as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 25

School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)

Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi

Nationality: English

Instagram: leahwilliamsonn

Alt: will.i.am.son

“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”

“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”

“You’re like the little sister I never had.”

Lucy Bronze as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 30

School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)

Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad

Nationality: English/Portuguese

Instagram: lucybronze

Alt: bronzesilvergold

“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”

“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”

“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”

Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear

#woso #woso x reader #lionesses #arsenal wfc #woso imagines #wbb x reader #uconn wbb #nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #10/10 series #harvard women's soccer team

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lav3nd3erhaz3 · 27 days

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THE 1 - kate martin x fem!oc!

WARNINGS- idk if there are any so if there is pls tell me!

DNI- men and minors.

SUMMARY- leia attends her first iowa wbb game and it goes different then she expected and she ends up feeling things she shouldnt be feeling.

I GUESS YOU NEVER KNOW, NEVER KNOW

JANUARY 25, 2023

CARVER-HAWKEYE ARENA

I walked into the arena for my first Iowa basketball game, while wearing my best friend Jada's jersey. I sat in my seat, it wasn't very far from the court so I could see well. I took my phone out of my pocket and opened up my snap. I saw a snap of Jada. She was sitting in the locker room. The text box on the picture read “Can we get a fit check 🙏”.

As I studied the photo I saw a gorgeous blonde in the photo with her. I replied with a snap of my jersey saying “Your jersey or no jersey! Good luck tonight Pookie!!!”. I sent the snap and closed out of my snap to my home screen. I opened the messages to see a message from my boyfriend James.

LOML

Hey.

We need to talk.

LEIA HOWARD

About what?

James, you're scaring me.

LOML

Just come over to my place at noon tomorrow.

Read 3:25

What did James mean by ‘we need to talk.’ We were doing so well. He had just left a week ago for a trip to California for his hockey team and came back yesterday. We talked while he was gone but not for very long, which was normal. I had my classes to worry about and he has his hockey team to worry about.

When I looked back up, the girls were on the court. I saw Jada warming up with Gabbie, the only girl I had met on the team so far. Earlier, at our apartment, Jada had mentioned going out with the team and suggested that I go with her. I hadn't considered going till now, I thought about it until the warmup music abruptly came to an end and I heard the commenters speaking but I didn't understand what they were saying.

AFTER THE GAME

Jada must have seen me because a security guard had come to escort me to her which was on the court near the bench.

“YOU DID SO WELL BABES!” I told her as I ran up to her, jumped into her arms, and wrapped myself around her. None of her teammates even turned to look at us as the interaction happened.

“OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING!!”She exclaimed back to me, matching my energy.

As we let go of the hug we both noticed the team was heading to the locker rooms so we followed. I put my hand in her hand and we started talking. We walked like that to the locker rooms.

When we made it to the locker Jada went to her little cubby and I followed. I made my way through the large group of girls to get just to Jada who seemed like she was halfway across the world. When I made it to her locker room I realized I hadn't told her about James or me wanting to go out with her and the rest of the girls.

“I need to tell you something weird that happened with James today,” I told her with a serious tone.

“Leia what happened…” She questioned me as she slipped off the yellow and black jersey that matched the one I was wearing. She traded it out for an Iowa women's basketball sweatshirt.

“He said he wants to talk…” I told her looking down trying to ignore the tears that were falling from my eyes. As I finished my sentence the same blonde from the snap Jada sent me earlier had appeared next to me and Jada.

“Hi! Are you still coming out with us tonight?” The tall blonde questioned my best friend.

“Yeah of course Kate,” Jada replied quickly, turning to me as she finished her sentence. “My offer still stands, Lei, if you wanna come with us, I think it will help get your mind off James for the rest of the night. We can listen to Hamilton while getting ready, '' she said, trying to persuade me, whispering the last part of the sentence.

“Uhm.. yeah sure..” I said, a wave of nervousness traveling over my body, making my cheeks heat up.

“Ok great. I guess I'll see you guys later. It was nice kinda sorta meeting you Leia…” As she finished her sentence I felt myself wanting to go out more just from that small interaction.

As the blonde left, Jada spoke up. “Thats Kate, she's really sweet, I think you guys would get along so well.” The comment made my cheeks heat up once again.

“She seems nice..” I commented as Jada turned around to collect the rest of her stuff.

AFTER GETTING HOME FROM THE CLUB

Those girls were super sweet, they treated me just like a player. Throughout the night they made sure I was included, I had even gotten close with some of the girls, especially Caitlin and Molly. I as well had forgotten all about what was going to happen the next day.

When me and Jada got back we stumbled out of the apartment. I went to my room and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a random oversized shirt I found in my drawer. I walked into the bathroom and put my brunette hair into a messy bun and started my skincare routine. I was halfway done brushing my teeth when I got a bunch of notifications coming from my phone that was in my pocket that was vibrating rapidly.

When I read through them carefully I noticed that they were all from the basketball girls following me on Instagram. But one of them stood out to me… Kate, Seeing her name gave me butterflies in my stomach the way James did when we first met. I Ignored the feelings I felt and finished brushing my teeth. When I finished I went straight to my room.

As I was walking I passed Jada's room to see she wasn't in her room. I just assumed she was getting a snack or something from the kitchen but when I entered my room there she passed out and noticed taking up all the room on my queen-sized bed. I squeezed my way into my bed and took as much blanket as I could get from Jada hogging it. As I finally got comfortable Jada flipped over.

“I'm so proud of you for going out tonight Leia, the girls liked you, and they said that next time we go out to invite you. I know everything feels bad right now but tomorrow's gonna be ok I promise and even if it isn't you got me and the team. I love you lei-lei, good night.” She muttered, yawning as she finished her sentence. “Thanks, Jades, I love you so much too, Sweet dreams,” I said as I heard her soft breathing signaling she was sleeping. I fell asleep soon after finishing my sentence.

dividers - @saradika

hi lovies! i hope you like this! i made half of it in the middle of a mental breakdown so half of it i didnt even know what i was writing. Not a lot of kate and leia interactions but i promise next chapter leia is gonna be freaking out!! i dont know if im gonna just do the 1 lyrics for the chapter names or like different folklore lyrics and songs. and for the goeriga fic it seems like saturn is gonna win so im gonna start working on the fic very soon. pls send in request for fics, hcs or blurbs for kate, georgia, paige, and aubrey. they are the ONLY people im writing for, and a anon asked for dorka but i dont really feel comfortable writing for her because when i first started watching wbb dorka was my comfort player, she just helped me through so much so it makes me feel weird writng something for her but im open to do platonic fics for her! ill be posting chapters every monday for this fic!

-love annie! 🎀

#Spotify #kate martin x oc #kate martin fic #taylor swift #folklore #the 1 #cutie patooties #jada gyamfi #iowa wbb #gabbie marshall #caitlin clark #iowa #kate martin 20 #kate martin #leia howard #kate martin x reader #kate martin loml

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 6 months

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 27

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions about intimate partner violence, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, drug abuse, and alcohol abuse.

Chapter Quote: "I got to snuggle some baby goats."

It took everything in me to hold back the sob that threatened to escape the instant I heard Dieter’s voice. I momentarily placed my hand over my mouth to hold it in and compose myself. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to find my voice.

“Dieter?”

I could hear his stuttered breathing on the other end of the line. He sounded like he was battling with his emotions too.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah… it’s me.”

I sighed loudly into the phone as the tears started to slide down my face. I felt like my brain had completely shut down on me, unsure of what to say but also feeling the urge to say everything all at once. It was so overwhelming but also awkward since we had not talked in so long. There were still so many things up in the air between us.

“How’ve you been?” He asked, sounding unsure of himself. I felt like he didn’t know what to say either.

I sniffed loudly as I wiped at my face, “Umm, I’ve been ok. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling good. Normal, I think…then again…I’m not sure I really know what normal is,” we both laughed nervously.

“I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can confidently say that at least,” he added.

I smiled. It was nice to know that he was feeling better. It helped dampen some of the worry I had been feeling.

“How are things going, otherwise?”

“Well, I got to snuggle some baby goats during group therapy this morning. I kinda want one now.” He sounded unabashed about this revelation.

“Of course you do,” I said in response, shaking my head and chuckling at the thought.

“I gotta new roommate two weeks ago…Gordon is his name. He’s an interesting guy…he uhhh…” he stifled a laugh before continuing. “He said he came here because the wall outlets were talking to him. Like, full conversations. They finally stopped after he got his meds sorted out. Made me feel a little better about my issues.”

I was a little dumbfounded, “Ummm, I’m not sure if I should laugh about that or not…” Dieter snickered, “He jokes about it now, so I think it’s ok.”

It felt good to hear him laughing again. I had missed that sound more than I realized. I really missed his voice in general. He sounded different. Better, lighter almost. It was a sound I wanted to commit to memory.

“Umm…so Gabby said you didn’t take that job offer?” His nervousness had returned with that question.

“No, I turned it down.” I started rubbing at my shoulder with my free hand as I moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Why? It sounded like an amazing opportunity”

I sighed, now rubbing at the crease between my brows, “It was, but it’s not where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I would’ve had to give up too much and I don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to do that.”

“I hope it wasn’t because of me…”

“No. I mean, I guess I can’t say no. You’re part of it…but my life is here. I can’t leave Lauren or even Gabby and Alex at this point. We’ve all gotten so close. And like I said, I’m not in the right headspace for that. I would’ve been spending a lotta time alone and I don’t wanna do that right now. It just wasn’t where I felt like I should be. I didn’t feel any kind of excitement over it at all, so I turned it down”

I suddenly felt vulnerable revealing that to him, questioning if I should have. I didn’t want him to worry about me when he needed to be focusing on himself.

“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I’m just…I-” I huffed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to finish that thought. I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how he was feeling or make an ass of myself.

I heard him chuckle quietly over my flustered response, “I miss you too.”

I was instantly calmed by his words, my anxiety about where we stood easing some. I let out a shy laugh at his declaration, tears still running down my face as I sniffled out, “You do?”

“Of course, I do, so fucking much… I - I’m sorry I haven't called you. I wanted to make sure I had a clear head when I did, and then I didn’t really know what to say after everything that happened.”

I heard him inhale sharply before he spoke up again, there was a tapping noise, like he was drumming his fingers against something.

“Listen, I’ve only got a few minutes left before they cut me off for today, but the reason I called…”

He paused, clearing his throat nervously, “Umm, so I wanted to see if you would be willing to come here and do a session with my psychiatrist and me…”

“Of course, when?”

“Whenever you can. Just uhh, call my case worker and she’ll get it scheduled.”

I could hear him shuffle around before he started cursing under his breath.

“Well, I was gonna give you the number but now I can’t find it...Gabby should have it.”

I couldn’t help but to snigger at him. He was still a little bit of a hot mess, which I loved about him.

He followed up with an exasperated “sorry” about not being able to find the number before he let out a quiet laugh at himself. It felt like part of it was his nervousness too.

“I’ll text her to get it as soon as we hang up and I’ll call immediately.”

I could hear him sigh in relief before a beeping noise broke into our conversation with an automated message giving a one minute warning.

“I’ll be there tomorrow if they’ll let me…or at least as soon as they’ll let me,” I said in a rush. Suddenly feeling the pressure of our limited time. I still felt like I had so many things to say to him.

“I would like that. I…I really can’t wait to see you…”

His words trailed off, shaking slightly as he was hit with another wave of emotions.

“I can’t wait to see you either,” I replied with a quivering voice.

After a moment of silence, there was a clicking sound as the line disconnected. I held the phone against my forehead, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Once I was able to focus my thoughts, I sent a quick text to Gabby to let her know that Dieter had called and that I needed the number for his case worker. I half expected her to call me, but thankfully she didn’t. She replied back quickly with the number and that she was happy he finally reached out. She followed that message up with another asking me if I was ok and if I needed to talk about it. I appreciated her offer, but I was good for now and let her know as much. Once I finished texting with Gabby, I dialed the number for the case worker, suddenly feeling nervousness forming in the pit of my stomach.

“Sanctuary Hills, this is Sharon,” the polite, yet comforting voice answered.

“Hi Sharon, this is Natalia Cohen…” She cut in before I could continue.

“Oh, Talia, hi. I’ve been expecting your call. Dieter told me he was going to be calling you.”

I let out a nervous laugh, slightly taken aback by the familiarity in which she said my name. It made me wonder how much he had talked about me.

“I assume you’re calling about an appointment for a family session?”

I didn’t know why, but it stirred something in me when she called it a family session. Technically, I wasn’t his family, but they were treating me as if I were. I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes again as I exhaled out a breathy “yes” in response.

“That’s wonderful news, I know he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice

“I can’t wait to see him either,” I replied, still trying to keep the emotions out of my words.

“Alright, let me have a look at the schedule. Dr. Rosenberg did ask that you be prepared to be available for at least a week for additional sessions, if possible.”

“Additional sessions?” I was confused. I couldn’t recall if the same thing had been asked of Gabby, which caused my anxiety to flare.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for that to happen. It’s mostly educational sessions for family members if they’re willing to participate.”

“Oh, ok. That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed nervously.

“When would you like to come in?” she asked with a calming tone.

“As soon as you can get me in is preferable.” I started tapping on the table as I waited for options, listening to the clicking of a keyboard on her end.

“How about 10 AM the day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll take it,” I said a little too eagerly. The anticipation of seeing Dieter again was starting to get to me.

“I have it scheduled. In case you do end up staying for additional sessions, we have apartments on site for patient families. So, you won’t have to worry about lodging. We don’t want you stressing about that while you’re here.”

“Oh, that’s…nice. Thanks for letting me know.”

“When you arrive for your session, come in the north entrance with the blue awning and they'll get you checked in. It’s a different entrance than where you would have come in before.”

I thanked her and our conversation ended soon after that. Afterwards, I sat staring out the kitchen window, feeling the anxiousness settle into my gut. Not knowing what to expect was always the worst for me. It was like that call had started a countdown, to what, I wasn’t sure. I could only hope the end result would be something positive.

The morning of our session, I had a ridiculously early flight so that I could be there in time. I decided to keep things simple with minimal makeup, a messy bun, sunglasses, sneakers, skinny jeans, and one of Dieter’s button up dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I had raided his closet while I was at his house cleaning up. It was something small, but being wrapped in his scent or wearing something that belonged to him brought me some comfort during my time without him. His clothing quickly became a staple in my casual attire.

I was so anxious about seeing Dieter again that the flight didn’t faze me like it normally would have. Though it was an hour and a half, it seemed much quicker as the minutes continued to count down and the distance between us shortened. I could feel myself getting more worked up the closer I got. By the time I acquired the rental car and was on the road to the facility, my chest was heavy. Breathing was getting harder with each mile that passed.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I sat gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands and taking deep breaths. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous, it’s not like I knew what Dieter was planning to talk to me about. However, deep down I had a fear, though most likely irrational, that he was going to realize he didn’t really want to be with me after this. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that a second time if it were to happen. Without permission, the tears started to streak down my cheeks, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

After a few more deep breaths, I slammed my fist down on the stop of the steering wheel out of frustration, “Fucking hell, get it together Talia.”

My head dropped back onto the headrest as I squeezed my eyes shut, still taking deep controlled breaths. After several minutes passed, I let out a slow exhale before opening my eyes. Feeling more relaxed, I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a complete mess before exiting the vehicle to go inside.

I was starting to have an out of body feeling as I went through the check in process. I couldn’t really remember walking to the building or anything the lady behind the desk had just said to me as I sat down in the lobby to wait. After a few minutes, one of the receptionists called my name and led me through a secure door down a long hallway. We passed several offices that had glass inserts in the doors with shades. Most of the shades were pulled closed, however, I noticed one was open. As I approached, I glanced inside and was met with a familiar figure sitting in a high backed desk chair in the middle of the room with his head leaned back and eyes closed as he spun back and forth, his legs bouncing ever so often. He was sitting on the opposite side of a desk from a woman who was possibly in her fifties, with graying hair and a kind face. Though, she did have a slightly overwhelmed look about her as her eyes met mine through the glass.

I stopped briefly, watching him wave his hands animatedly as he talked incessantly, never raising his head or opening his eyes. I felt a small smirk sneak across my face. He was nervous too. I could tell. My eyes flicked back to the woman, who was watching me watch him with a soft smile on her face.

My attention was pulled away by the receptionist, who was now at my side waiting for me to continue following her.

“He’s been driving us all crazy this morning. I think poor Sharon is getting the worst of it. He’s beyond excited that you’re here today.”

I chuckled at the thought before continuing down the hallway. I was led into a spacious office. It was modern and white with floor to ceiling windows on one side with nothing in sight but nature. All the furnishings were earth tones of brown and deep reds and oranges. I noticed there were a lot of plants filling the space, which added a homey feeling, in a strange sort of way. It also struck me how there were different seating areas on either side of the room. One had a small couch and cushy chair positioned in front of it, while the other had four cushy chairs sitting closely together in a circle. Each of the seats were adorned with soft looking pillows in various shades matching the space. There was a traditional desk setup in the center of the room with two chairs placed in front of it. Each area felt carefully designed to meet specific needs.

Moments after entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Rosenberg who first shook my hand, then pulled me in for a loose hug.

“Talia, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you the last couple of months.”

It took me by surprise, though I felt like it shouldn’t have. There was a certain familiarity and kindness that everyone seemed to have toward me. Everyone had been very warm and welcoming thus far. It was comforting to know this was the type of environment that Dieter had been in.

I gave her a tight lipped smile as she led me over to sit in one of the four chairs in a circle. To my surprise, the chair spun slightly as I sat in it. Dr. Rosenberg turned hers to face me directly, so I did the same with mine. I had managed to stay composed thus far, but my nervousness was starting to show as I reached up and rubbed at my shoulder. The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as she watched my movements. I stopped, sat up straight and placed both hands on top of my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting.

I’m not sure why, but I felt the need to appear like I had my shit together. I took a minute to study her as she gave me a soft smile while she continued to get settled, grabbing a notepad, file folder, pen, and glasses from the small table next to her seat. She was probably in her early fifties, maybe late forties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in business casual attire. I could tell she wanted to appear professional, but not uninviting. She was also definitely looking at my body language very closely, which was making me feel antsy. My therapist used to do that, and I hated it. I mentally smacked myself over my thoughts. I was already putting up walls and we hadn’t even started talking yet.

“Well, it’s been an exciting morning around here. Dieter is definitely happy you’re here. He was asked to leave his group session this morning because he couldn't focus. He’s been bugging poor Sharon ever since.” She laughed and smiled affectionately at her words.

She was trying to get me to relax. I knew that I looked too tense. I let out a breathy laugh as I sat back further in the seat, trying to appear less uptight, but I didn't think it was working. She gave me a sympathetic look suddenly, “You’re nervous to see him.”

It wasn’t a question. Looking down at my hands, I chuckled to myself briefly before clearing my throat to speak, “Yeah, I guess I am. I just…don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s a perfectly normal feeling. It’s not unusual for family members to worry if their loved one is going to be different after treatment. Is that some of what you’re feeling?”

Her question took me by surprise, “Ummm, maybe. Sort of...maybe not so much about him being different…more about him feeling differently.”

She nodded, “I understand. I can’t say that he won’t be different. His personality may present differently, more calm, less emotional or moody. He will feel differently in that he won’t be cycling from one extreme to the other, emotionally. As far as how he feels ABOUT things, that isn’t going to change just because he’s stabilized. Does that make sense?”

I gave a tight nod, “Yeah, it does.” It didn’t do anything to ease my anxiety though because I still didn’t know how he really felt about us. She eyed me for a second before continuing.

“So, I’ll fill you in on my plan for today. First, you and I are going to chat about Dieter’s diagnosis. Once we’re done, I’m going to bring him in for the session. After that, you and I will have a follow-up meeting to discuss the path forward. Does that sound ok to you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I started to chew on my bottom lip while she flipped through the file in her hand.

“Great. Just so you’re aware, Dieter signed release forms for you to have access to his medical and treatment information. Nothing is off the table, so if you have questions, ask. He made it clear to me that he wants you to know everything and wants you involved as much as you want to be.”

I paused briefly, shocked by that information. I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Ok...I wasn’t expecting that.”

She smiled before continuing, “Alright, let’s get to it then?” She raised her brows at me, asking permission to proceed. I motioned with my hand to continue.

“So, he’s been formally diagnosed with mixed episode Bipolar I Disorder (BD). In simple terms, bipolar disorder is when someone experiences extreme behavioral or mood changes. The extreme highs are called manic episodes, and lows are episodes of depression. Most people with BD go through highs and lows over an extended period of time. Someone with mixed episodes, like Dieter has, tend to experience both highs and lows simultaneously or in a rapid sequence with no recovery time.”

She paused, giving me a minute to digest her words. I couldn’t say I was surprised by the diagnosis, it actually made a lot of his behavior make sense. When I didn’t speak up, she continued.

“I think what happened with Dieter…he was put on a lot of medication. Antidepressants in particular can be very tricky for someone with BD. It can cause an increased risk of mood destabilization when the antidepressants are not taken with a mood stabilizer. He was on pretty much everything but a mood stabilizer. You add that in with not sleeping, not eating, drinking, anxiety, and episode triggers…it’s a recipe for disaster. Sometimes being improperly medicated like that can trigger suicidal ideation and even psychosis. Honestly, he was fighting a losing battle.”

I leaned forward in my seat, placing my elbows on my knees while I rubbed at my face. I felt anger bubbling in my chest.

“Why didn’t his therapists or doctors catch what was happening?”

“One reason…lack of experience. BD is also incredibly hard to diagnose because it shares symptoms with so many other more common disorders like anxiety, depression, PTSD, and ADHD, which is what he was being treated for. That’s not to say he doesn’t have those things as well, but if he does, we need to take a different treatment approach.”

I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, that actually kind of blows my mind.”

“I know… and I’m surprised that no one thought to look into it, given his family history. It can be hereditary, and BD does have a high suicide rate. Given what happened with his mother, it should’ve been considered. Also, the fact that he experienced trauma in dealing with that incident...trauma often causes the onset of symptoms.”

I sighed heavily as the tears started to pool in my eyes, “This actually…kind of pisses me off that he had to go through all of this needlessly. He fucking hated taking that stuff because of the way it made him feel.”

“That brings me to my next topic...It's been hard to get a baseline with him. I feel like a lot of the things he was experiencing were side effects from all the medications he was on. I can’t really rely on his history before he started the medication because he was using recreational and prescription drugs and drinking heavily to self medicate, which could have been making things worse for him during that time as well.” She paused briefly to gauge my reaction, “I assume you knew about his past substance abuse issues?”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned it…What does all that mean?”

“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what his actual symptoms are right now. So, to start, I’m doing the bare minimum. I’ve started him out on a low dose mood stabilizer called divalproex sodium. It’s actually…an anticonvulsant that’s normally used to treat seizures rather than a typical mood stabilizer like lithium.”

I drew my brows down together in confusion, “Why a seizure medication?”

“That medication increases the amount of a chemical called gamma-aminobutyric acid in the brain. It works to block certain transmissions across the nerves in the brain and creates sort of an overall calming effect. That particular medication often works best for patients that have mixed or rapid cycling episodes. Lithium typically doesn’t get the job done in those instances. He seems to be doing well on it so far. We’ll give it a few more months to make sure everything else is out of his system and reevaluate.”

“So, he went from taking half the pharmacy…to one thing?”

“He did. He seems pretty set on limiting the medications as much as possible. He’s been spending a lot of his time doing cognitive behavioral therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy, and psychoeducation to help him manage his symptoms and learn about triggers and that sort of thing. He’s been very invested in it, and it seems to be helping.”

I sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed, “I don’t know what all of that is. I mean, I know cognitive behavioral therapy but…” I shook my head in confusion.

“No worries, if you decide to continue with the family education sessions you’ll learn about that stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in...”

“Yeah, it is, but I’m happy that he’s hopefully on the right track now.” I took a couple of deep breaths to try and relax some as I continued to process things.

“One last thing before I bring Dieter in...I know you two were no longer together before his hospitalization and you haven’t really had a chance to work things out. His preference is to stay with you when he leaves treatment. I do want to be able to manage his expectations if that isn’t going to be the case. I don’t want you to feel like you have to allow that if you aren’t ready to take all this on. I want you to know that you can say no.”

I was taken aback at her directness, but also appreciated it. I actually felt like I was warming up to her some and feeling more comfortable with opening up to her. I didn’t hesitate with my response, if anything, I said it with conviction, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke.

“There’s no question in my mind about him coming home with me so long as he wants to. I’ve known from the start that he was struggling with his mental health, and I promised to support him through it. A new diagnosis doesn’t change anything for me. I’m all in for this.”

Dr. Rosenberg gave me a warm smile, clearly satisfied with my response. “Now I see why he says you can be a force to be reckoned with.”

My eyebrows shot up at her words as she again took me by surprise, “Dieter said that?” I chuckled at the thought as I leaned back in my seat, surprised that was the wording he chose.

“He’s said a lot of things about you, all positive, of course.” She laughed quietly to herself as she set her glasses on the table. As she stood, she announced she was going to go get him for our joint sessions.

After Dr. Rosenberg disappeared out the door, I could feel my anxiety returning. My chest was starting to tighten again as my heart beat a mile a minute. Instinctively, my right hand moved to rub at my shoulder. Was he going to be upset about how easily I gave up on us? I didn’t know how he couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like he was planning to end things for good even though that thought kept crossing my mind. It was clearly my pessimism and self-doubt seeping in. The thought of being completely open and vulnerable in this setting was making things worse too. I wasn’t a fan of having an audience, but I needed to get over that and not build up my walls right now. I propped my arm on the rest of the chair and started to rub at my forehead as my leg began to bounce. I couldn’t make myself stop the fidgeting no matter how hard I tried.

After several minutes passed, Dr. Rosenberg returned with Dieter following behind her. His head was down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. As he approached me, he finally looked my way through his lashes. He gave me a small smile that widened as his eyes dropped down to my shirt, obviously noticing I was wearing one of his. I gave him a shy smile in return. He sat down in the chair directly in front of me as Dr. Rosenberg returned to her earlier spot.

It was clear he was nervous by the way he couldn’t keep his hands still and how the heel of his croc kept bouncing off the tiled floor. He would only occasionally glance in my direction as we waited for Dr. Rosenberg to get settled again. I took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked so much better compared to the last time I had seen him. His light gray t-shirt was no longer loose looking around his fit torso. His pale skin had been replaced with a golden tan. His hair was longer and as wild as ever, framing his scruffy and patchy beard. His chocolate brown eyes looked clearer than I had ever seen them and were filled with nervousness and anticipation.

Once Dr. Rosenberg was ready to start, she filled Dieter in on what she had discussed with me about his diagnosis. She then encouraged him to take the lead going forward and discuss the things he wanted to speak with me about. He rubbed his hands together nervously, briefly chewing on his bottom lip before he met my gaze to speak.

“So, you’re…ok with that diagnosis?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what he meant and gave him a confused look. “Like, it doesn’t freak you out or anything? I know it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Dieter, the diagnosis doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. Why would it bother me?”

“I dunno, I’m just afraid that at some point you’re gonna realize how big of a mess I am and run away from it all,” he said sheepishly.

I chuckled, leaning forward in the seat with a teasing smile, “I realized how big of a mess you were a long time ago.” He scratched at his chin as a smirk formed on his lips.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the worst of it and I’m still here. My feelings for you haven’t changed. You don’t have to worry about that from me.”

His eyes turned glassy at my words as he pinched his brows together, looking downward at his hands in his lap.

“I don’t deserve you, not after the way I treated you…the things I said. I was such an asshole to you.”

I bit at my bottom lip, shaking my head before speaking, “None of that matters to me. I know you weren’t completely yourself when you said those things.”

“No, I wasn’t but I still knew what I was doing and saying. I apparently tend to self-sabotage things. Some of the things I said, using your past against you, I knew it would hurt you. I wanted the words to hurt so you would let me go. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“Why though? I don’t understand why you felt the need to end things to begin with. Why was I a burden to you?”

His eyes widened at my question, brows shooting upward as he shook his head from side to side, “No, no you weren’t the burden…I was. I’m sorry I made you think that. I know the night I called, I wasn’t making a lot of sense. I…I hadn’t slept in days, and I was such a fucking mess.”

He licked his bottom lip and chewed at it for a second before continuing, “I could see how you were having to completely change everything about your life to accommodate me and my work just for us to be together. I knew it was eventually gonna be a problem and cause you stress because it was affecting your job. I didn’t wanna ruin your life that way. You shouldn’t have to cater your life to mine, it’s not fair. I love you too much to do that to you.”

“Dieter, it wasn’t always gonna be like that. It just happened to be shitty circumstances caused by the remote location. If we hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, I could’ve worked without issue. We just weren’t prepared for the challenges that came up. This is a learning experience for both of us. We’ll know better for next time so I can plan accordingly…and it wasn’t like you weren’t making changes to meet me halfway.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, nodding in agreement.

“I know that now, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly…obviously. It all made sense at the time.” He rolled his eyes, frustrated with his behavior. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“It was more than that though, I knew I was spiraling out of control. I could fucking feel it happening and didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t wanna tell you what was going on because I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you would drop everything and fly back to Canada to be with me.”

“You’re damn right I would’ve… and I should’ve done that anyway.” I could feel my emotions catching up to me, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down away from him.

“I fucking knew it…in my gut that something was wrong, and I did nothing. If I had just done it…came up there anyway, this probably would’ve gone differently. I could’ve helped you through it, but no…I was a fucking coward. I gave up because I was selfish and wanted to protect myself. I didn’t even try because I was too afraid that I would end up in a dark place again if you didn’t want me to be there with you.”

The tears were streaking down my cheeks by this point. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I had so much anger for myself that it was making me feel sick. Dieter stood from his seat, closing the few feet between us, then got down on his knees on the floor in front of me. He moved to grab my hands in my lap, but hesitated. I reached up and grabbed his in response.

“I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to think that. It should’ve never happened. I should’ve been communicating everything with you instead of pushing you away. This whole fucking mess is my fault…I wanted to reach out so many times after that… to try and fix it, but you seemed like you were doing ok so I didn’t want to upset you again.”

The tears were streaming down his face now as he took a minute to try and compose himself.

“I thought I could move on and just deal with things the way I used to…by numbing the pain. That’s when I started drinking heavily again. Then I saw you at the restaurant, and you looked so fucking amazing…and I was such a dick. I was so angry with myself for that. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had everything and fucked it up. My behavior after that night was reckless. There are days I can’t even remember because I was drinking so much. I just wanted to not think about it anymore.”

He pulled his hands away, looking down at the floor before wiping at his face. When he raised his head again, the pain in his eyes nearly made my heart stop. I reached out to cup his cheek, but he leaned away, seeming to need space.

“The night that video of you was posted online…several people sent it to me. I didn’t watch it at first because I didn’t think it would mean anything…but when I finally did…”

He put his hand over his mouth, letting out a quiet sob, before continuing.

“I could see how bad you were hurting…how bad I hurt you. What I did to you…I hated myself for it because you didn’t deserve that. It also reminded me of what I was missing out on because of how beautiful you sounded and looked…and that fucking song.”

He paused for a minute, shaking his head. He sniffled and wiped at his face again before continuing.

“I stayed up all night, watching it on a loop on the tv. I almost called you then, but stopped myself. I drank until I had nothing left instead. Then, when I ran into you the next morning, I could see how fucking broken you were. The way you looked at me…it fucking crushed me. I bought more alcohol and went back to the house. I don’t really remember much after that.”

He shook his head for a moment, pausing to take a few deep breaths, wiping at his face again.

“I don’t even remember calling you…and…even after everything I did, you still came to me. You could’ve easily told me to fuck off and I would’ve deserved it, but you didn’t. I know I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t. You saved my life…I feel like you’ve been doing that ever since New York. When I say you’re my light in the darkness, I fucking mean it.”

I started sobbing into my hands. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands around his neck as he moved to hug me. We sat there in an embrace for some time before I started mumbling into his shoulder.

“I was so afraid you were gonna hate me for giving up on you so easily. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Just know that it had nothing to do with you…I clearly still need to work on my own shit.”

He hugged me a little tighter as he buried his fingers in the back of my hair, “That thought never crossed my mind. Don’t even worry about it anymore.”

He finally pulled back, wiping the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. We gave each other tight smiles as we locked eyes. He turned away, toward Dr. Rosenberg, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, and asked for some tissues. She picked up the box from her small table and handed it to him as he stood. He handed me several and took some for himself before handing the box back to her. She motioned for him to have a seat. As she turned to set the box back on the table, I noticed she was looking a little glassy eyed too.

We all sat in silence as her eyes shifted between us. Dieter and I glanced at each other, confusion on our faces as we looked back toward her. She chuckled before she spoke.

“I’m not even sure why I’m here. This is literally the first family session ever where I didn’t have to intervene or lead a conversation. You two don’t seem to have any problems communicating, so I’m not sure how you ended up where you were.”

We both smiled widely at her, surprised and appreciative of her honesty. Dieter spoke up with a chuckle.

“I think between my fucked up brain and the distance…it didn’t do us any favors. We’re always at our best when we’re physically together, I think. Everything goes to hell when we aren’t. Clearly that is something I need to work on.”

Dr. Rosenberg nodded in agreement, “Well, I hate to separate you two again, but we are running short on time, and I want to have a chat with Talia about the plans going forward. Dieter, I’m pretty sure you have another group session coming up so you better head that way. You think you can focus enough for this one?”

She raised an eyebrow in his direction as he laughed and nodded. He stood, quickly shuffling over to lean down and give me a hug before exiting the room.

Dr. Rosenberg wasted no time getting back to business, “Talia, part of his treatment is making sure he has the support he needs when he gets home. That’s why we offer support to caretakers as well, because technically, you will be his caretaker as the only other person in the household with him.”

I knitted my brows together, confused about where this conversation was going.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you have a traumatic history because Dieter has mentioned a few things. I don’t know the details, and I get the sense he doesn’t know it all either. I feel like whatever happened with your ex-husband is still affecting you. Is the dark place you mentioned something that you would be willing to talk to me about? Anything you tell me about yourself is confidential, just so you know.”

I sighed heavily as I ran both hands over my face, “So you picked up on that, huh?” I laughed nervously under her gaze.

“You’re right, I haven’t told him everything. I keep telling myself I’ve moved past it, but after the last few months, I’ve realized that I just locked it away and pretended it didn’t exist. I tend to do that with a lot of things.” She gave me an encouraging smile, clearly picking up on my hesitation as I paused to gather my thoughts.

“So, the last few years of my marriage, I started drinking heavily after finding no way out of the hell I was living in. The constant mental and psychological abuse was wearing me down, especially after I realized what was happening. When I tried to talk to Justin about a divorce, he would just tell me there was no way out because he wasn’t ready to give me up.” I paused briefly… focusing on something outside through the window. “I uhh, came home early from work one day and found him with another woman that he worked with. He of course said it was my fault, because I wasn’t giving him what he needed in the marriage. I knew what he was doing…and I was determined not to let it go because I felt I had a legitimate reason to end things at that point. I TOLD him I was leaving. I was done asking. When I started packing a bag, he hit me. The first time ever. I mean, he had shoved me around some, but never hit me across the face like that. He told me there was no leaving… that he would just find me and bring me home. Said no one would believe me or help because all of OUR friends knew how I was.”

“Talia, what did saying that out loud just now make you feel?”

My eyes drifted over to meet hers, “I don’t really feel anything.”

She arched a brow, “That’s because you're dissociating. I want you to focus on me as you speak and feel what you’re saying.”

Fuck. She wasn’t going to let me cheat my way through this like my therapist did. I pinched my brows together as my eyes teared up again. I had to face this. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. When I opened them and met her gaze, she nodded for me to continue.

“He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to. He made sure of that. He left after our argument, said he was going out with the guys. I doubt that’s where he went though. As soon as he left, I started drinking. I remember…feeling lost and pretty fucking hopeless after that. I couldn’t believe he hit me, and I was scared it would happen again. I never saw myself as someone who lets their husband abuse them…I felt disgusted over it. I must have drank a lot…because I can’t remember the rest of that night. I - I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I guess when he came home, he found me passed out in my own vomit.”

I started tapping on the arm of the chair as the tightness in my chest returned. The tears trickled out again.

“When Justin finally came to see me, I told him that I was done. If he didn’t let me go, I was gonna find a way out…one way or another and I would make sure everyone knew it was his fault. Given that I had just put myself in the hospital, he took me at my word and agreed on a divorce. I guess he was afraid of what I would do.”

“What did you mean by that?”

I gave a half smile, “I honestly don’t know. I wonder that myself…what I was capable of. If I could’ve done anything.”

“What happened after you both agreed to the divorce?”

“Well, when I was still in the hospital, I reached out to one of my best friends that I grew up with, Lauren. We had kept in touch, even though I actively worked to put up a wall between us so she wouldn’t know what was really going on in my life because I was so embarrassed over it. She didn’t hesitate…she was at the hospital within the hour, and I told her everything. I stayed with her for a few weeks until I got my life sorted out. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her. Of course, Justin continued to torment me by dragging out the divorce for over a year. It got pretty nasty.”

“What effects do you feel like that experience had on you?” She asked quietly.

“Experience.” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize twelve years of hell could be considered an experience.”

She gave me a sympathetic look before I continued, “I mean, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was who he wanted me to be. After I left him, he was still in my head with everything I did. What I was wearing, how I fixed my hair and makeup, things I said. I couldn’t do some of the simplest things without hearing his voice telling me I was doing something wrong and having a fucking panic attack over it. I couldn’t make decisions…and yes, I would still drink to numb my feelings and calm myself down. Only this time, I knew exactly how much I could drink without taking it too far.”

“Are those things still an issue for you now?”

I shook my head, “No, I mean, I did all the cognitive behavioral therapy and the sessions. I eventually got to a point where the negative thoughts stopped. I think Dieter had a lot to do with that…he kind of helped me see myself in a different light…but I do still have anxiety sometimes and I think I’ve reverted back to ignoring my feelings… compartmentalizing everything and pretending it’s not there. Throwing myself into work and staying busy to keep my mind occupied. I’ve been doing that instead of drinking the feelings away.”

Dr. Rosenberg leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee with a pensive look on her face.

“Talia…would you be willing to stay for the next three weeks to work through some of this with me? It would be outpatient treatment…a couple hours a day. You can stay in one of our apartments.”

I sucked in a quick breath. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but at the same time, I almost felt relieved. My gut told me I needed it and I knew I couldn’t go on the way I had been because I was eventually going to self-destruct if I didn’t take better care of myself. I knew I couldn’t fully be there for Dieter if I was still battling with myself. I sat staring at my hands as I thought through the offer. I could still work remotely, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I raised my head to meet her eyes, “Will Dieter know what I’m doing?”

“Only if you want him to.”

“I don’t want to saddle him with my shit right now…I don’t wanna mess him up.”

“Honestly, I think he’s stable at this point. I think he could handle whatever you wanted to share with him. If you wanted, we could even do some more joint sessions, or he can just be there for support if you want him to be. It’s all up to you really.”

“What would you do?” I asked, letting out a stuttered breath with my question. She took a minute to consider her response, biting on the inside of her cheek as she did so.

“I don’t think it would be bad if you shared everything with him. The more open you are with one another, the better. Communication is going to be a huge factor in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. At least if he knows what’s going on he can support you, just like you support him. Also, if he needs help processing through things, we can help him with that while he’s here…but again, it’s your decision.”

“Yeah, I mean he knows most of it anyway…Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll stay and I want him involved.”

She gave me a bright smile, “I’m actually really happy to hear that. I think this will allow you to build a solid foundation going forward. I’m excited for your future together. I can tell that you both care deeply for each other and I really want your time here to be successful.”

I gave her thanks for the opportunity she was giving me. I’ve known for a while that I had things that I needed to work on but didn't really know where to start. The fact that Dieter seemed so at ease with her and was doing so well gave me some comfort and the courage to jump in head first.

The next three weeks were a whirlwind of educational sessions to help me learn about bipolar disorder; the triggers, coping strategies, and lifestyle changes to minimize stress. I even had an opportunity to learn more about Dieter’s medication and possible interactions and side effects so I would be able to spot them. He had asked that I be involved with his Interpersonal and Social Rhythm therapy, which was designed to help him build a daily routine of healthy habits to manage his moods. Given his job, sometimes a routine was almost impossible for him to keep, but we learned strategies to deal with that when confronted with it. It was all very helpful for the both of us.

I had my sessions too of course. He sometimes set in on them if we were doing something particularly hard that day. His presence helped keep me grounded and got me through a lot. He was taking time to learn about ways to help me cope better and we worked together on effective communication skills.

Dr. Rosenberg recommended that I start keeping a journal to help me work through my emotions. I was iffy about it at first, but Dieter was also doing it and he loved it. He was very encouraging about it. It was something that I had come to enjoy doing after a few days. We had even taken to having a shared journal between us to better communicate our feelings, which Dr. Rosenberg loved the idea of and encouraged.

Even though Dieter and I weren’t able to spend a whole lot of time together during those three weeks, I could always feel his presence and support. It’s what kept me going through it all. I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it without him. By the time my last day of treatment came around, he was given the all clear for discharge. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to know that we would be going home…together.

A/N: How excited are we that these two are finally back together? How badly did this chapter hit the feels? Did you cry? If you did, hopefully this will be the last time...unless you are a happy crier. There may be happy tears later. 😉 How are we feeling about Dieter's diagnosis? Does it change how you view some of his past behavior? What about that revelation from Talia? I mean, are we really surprised though; the girl has had a complicated relationship with alcohol throughout the whole story. How do you think things are going to go when they get back home? Do you think they will pick up where they left off or have some growing pains? We will find out in the next chapter. 😁 I am 100% failing at life and did not get the Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post done. I need to do a little fact checking and didn't have the brain power for it. However, once I get that ready, it will be posted HERE. The topic for Deconstructing Dieter Bravo Part 3 will be his diagnosis. I will tag all the usuals in the posts once it is ready. Hopefully you will find it to be educational. 💜 👉 I do want to share some details on upcoming projects that will be released for the holidays. I am participating in the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. I have received my gift prompt, and you may be excited to know that you will be getting a Dieter Bravo one shot from me by Christmas. I already have some ideas swirling around for it and it's not related to any current fics. It should be fun. Be sure to follow the #pedrostoriesgift23 hashtag to check out all the awesome work that will be included for the event. 👉 I will also be participating in the Pickled Peña event for the new year. I am going to try my hand at writing a little Javi P. for you. Follow @pickled-pena for updates and the hashtag #pickledpeña to see all madness (and I'm sure debauchery) that comes from this fun challenge. I also invite you all to join us! There is still time! It's going to be a blast! If you would like to be tagged on either of these one shots, let me know in the comments. 💜 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below in case you missed it.😘

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#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #Destiny & Deliverance Series #friends of juice collective

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