#tbis past week has been so fucking hard on me

[lesbienyu]

also, while I'm talking about addiction, I feel like a lot of non-alcoholics, including other addicts, do not understand the difficulties of coming off booze at home.

when I came off heroin, it fucking sucked. I basically lived in a wooden chair for days because if I got too comfortable I'd shit myself. I hallucinated, puked, sweat, and ached nonstop. It took a while to get over, but I did, and I didn't need to see a doctor to do it.

With alcohol, however, you can die if you get to the point of having Delirium Tremens (DTs, if you're hip to friends of Bill). It is hard to tell if you will have DTs- there isn't really a formula, and past experiences mean nothing. I got DTs days after quitting after drinking six to ten beers a day for months. I got DTs after months of being sober then going on a two week extreme bender. If you have chronic alcoholism, it can be unpredictable. Normal alcohol withdrawals suck, it's like an extended hangover, sort of, but worse, but DTs have you seizing and hallucinating and it's no fun. You should not detox from serious drinking problems without medical guidance.

However, having serious alcoholism to the point of DTs often comes with difficulty in being able to hit detox. There's often avoidance - my uncle refused care for years because he was afraid to know the damage he'd done, or to be judged, or to worry our family. He is 60 and rejecting a liver transplant with a few months to live now.

For me, recently, it has been lacking insurance, and being unable to afford to miss work. And I am a semi-functional/arguably functional alcoholic- I have a full-time job, volunteer, just finished a book, and I still can't coordinate treatment due to cost. My addiction is p gnarly, but people who cannot work or care for themselves or function while in active addiction are dealing with worse barriers to treatment and being viewed a lot less respectfully than me and just all around being treated like shit on a shoe, when, imo, what I have to deal with to even begin to coordinate care is inhumane, I really cannot speak to their struggles.

And I'm not saying alcoholism is worse, but I do feel like it's treated like "diet drug addiction," like it can't be as bad as heroin or coke. it isn't for some, but it is worse for others. and I feel like the idea that "alcohol isn't a real drug" is really scary, because it's one of few whose withdrawals can kill you, and do so with little warning after a certain point in addiction. this isn't even going into alcohol-related injuries (shout out to the drunk guy who fell on me and gave me a TBI, and for all the bruises I gave myself while drunk), but like, idk, I feel like no one ever wants to talk about the dangers of alcohol, and, if they do, they're called a narc when it's a really serious topic. There's way more barriers for coming off alcohol than people expect- not necessarily more than other drugs, just that people underestimate the risks and the various roadblocks

#alcoholism #active addiction #addiction

[vialism]

tw everything

#just past abuse things: going into deeeeep imaginative trains of thought about what’s being said about you #there was so much intentional slander that was normalized masked as help during the traumatic period of my life #and ive unlearned a lot of what it taught me but i will probably never unlearn everything and it bothers me that i will never know for sure #do you think i could do enough research to figure out the actual moment when all the cells in my body are new enough to have never been #in tbe same room as my abuser #but like let me be clear #my trauma fucks with me internally to the point of self destruction. it will always always fuck with my relationship to authority #but i will always be strong enough to keep it out of how i treat my friends. #i will never let the fear thst was instilled in me keep me from effective communication respect love and generosity with my loved ones and #that can’t be taken from me because i worked so incredibly hard to rebuild it when i was 18-22 ish #im over 3 years clean and i refuse to fuck that up but wow tbis year has veen harder than the last two by 500% #i have been through more than a lot of people close tk me know #and the fact that i am who i am despite what was done to me is part miracle part PAINSTAKING work #it hurts when others havent done thst work BUT #it’s not 1) their fault 2) my business #i just want peiple tk work hard for me. and when they do #THAT IS WHAT LOVE MEANS TO ME. and im so glad i have it with a few people. I’m SO lucky and grateful #my regular teens finally saw me bare armed last week and asked what happened to my arms it was bound to happen #i had tk brush it off with a practiced response (age 11-12 level #i literally have si many responses ready for any agr and relationship #but i wish. could have said that it was proof that i’ve worked hard because fhat’s what it is #and the work has been painful. #i hope they are spared that work but they might not be. i know how to knkw when things are unfsir when i’d immediately tell my 6th graders #that they deserve better. i have to make sure i am tresting myself sjth as much care as i treat my teens #grace gave me yellow sticky notes to write a nice note to myself every day and to ask for help witj it if i need #ive been doing it by myself thiugh #i’m not even acared that i don’t have tøp shows planned because growing up means learning to do for yourself what tøp does for you #(im writing a book about that look for it ij stores 2025 im joking maybe maybe not) #i guess all i want is credit for not acting like my abuser and being smart enough and strong enough to protect myself when other peiole #start to act that way. ok i hit 30 tags impromise im safe goodnight

[figuringouthowtobehere]

please dont reblog this

i dont have many ppl to talk to. so here i am, screaming into the void that is my tumblr again.

im mostly posting this because im alone. im really really fucking alone. and im hoping i might, idfk, make a solid, trustable connection from tumblr??? idfk. im alone in the world.

please dont reblog this

cw family issues, su*cidality, abandonment, abuse, childhood abuse, trauma, being alone in the world

i have no one to go to. my entire life since i was a baby all ive ever been able to do is survive at the skin of my teeth. and here i am, 20, breathing, trying so fucking hard to live and, idk if im succeeding. im doing my film shit which is cool but. im alone. im on my own. im alone in the world. i never had parents. like, obviously i had parents, but they were never parents, dyou know what i mean? like the people who genetically made me were around but they were abusing me or just being awful or refusing to listen to me about what i needed from them, from their parenthood. 

i had a conversation with my mom yesterday (after two days of not being able to get a hold of her and really really needing to) and i was basically just like ‘why cant you be my mom’ and she was like ‘i am your mom’ and i was like ‘well, yeah, but youre not--you cant--you dont mother me. and you dont mother me in the ways i need you to.’ and she was like ‘what does that look like to you?’ and i said ‘someone who i can turn to, always, someone who has my back no matter what, someone who respects me and what i need and who listens to me and trusts my experience and, yeah, someone who i can turn to always’ and she said ‘i mean i can talk with you on the phone, i can tell you what i think you should do, i can try to give you advice from my experience, but as far as someone having your back 24/7 always, i cant do that’ and we ended up talking about how im an adult now - and she was talking about it in the sense of ‘youre a grown man now, you dont need your mom like that anymore’ - and im like ‘ya, i am basically a grown man but i still need my mom. i still need parents.’ and i think im gonna end up cutting contact with her again because its too hard to simultaneously grieve her not being the mom i need and also talk to her. if im not talking to her then i can deal with the idea that i dont have a mother, that i dont have parents and i probably never will.

ive never really had people. i never really had friends when i was a child and i dont really have friends now. maybe its cause im trans, maybe its cause im autistic, maybe its cause im mixed, i dont know, but generally people in the world dont like me or it takes them a long time to not hate me. it doesnt matter why right now the point is i never had people (like, a support system) and i dont now. 

so yeah im pretty seriously thinking about killing myself (or, trying to anyway). i dont wanna die but ive spent my whole life trying to just. be a person. and find contentment. and everything in my life ends up going awful or causing me a lot of trouble at some point or another. ive come to expect it. whenever anything happens in my life im just like ‘when will this go wrong. how long will it take this time.’ and im alone. im just fucking on my own. and i know theres lots of people who are and have been more alone than i am/have been and i admire these people so fucking much like GO YOU!! YOUFUCKING DID IT!!! HELL YEAH! im so proud of u. for real, i have so much respect for all yall reading this who have made it through shit and made it through being alone in the world. you fucking got this. youre doing it. good fucking job!!!!! ✨ but then. idk ig it doesnt take away from this being incredibly fucking difficult for me. pretty much everything in my life was fucked from birth to age 18 and now over half of everything in my life is fucked. which is better, for sure, but its still. ive never had a chance. idk it just seems to me like it doesnt matter. i can try and try and do all the therapies and take all the psych meds a psychiatrist might give me and i can meditate all the time. it just seems like im Doomed. (WOW i sound dumb and childish) like ik logically this is probably incorrect, that im not actually just.. doomed but thats how it feels. whenever a good thing happens im just waiting for it to collapse on me. and usually it does in way or another. generally not because of anything ive done or havent done, it just ends up being shit.

and then. ive never had anyone. i dont have anyone. im alone in the world. like its not that im ignoring people i do have or choosing to omit them from my mind right now. i have a singular friend in the place where i live; my other two friends both live in the states. i live with someone who was a support for me until like last ... july or so, i think, who now makes me feel like shit (they arent being malicious its just a bunch of issues in our relationship. theres more on that in stuff ive posted before, if you feel like digging through my posts for a while go ahead and youll find more on that) and i have like 5% (out of 100%) trust for them. i have a therapist who i see once a week and ik shes invested in me, but thats her job. and i cant just call her whenever i want. i have several people for film stuff but theyre either just casual pals and then colleagues or just colleagues. i know a lot of people, who dont really show any investment in me as a person or their relationship with me and who i dont really click well with. and thats it. 

and im so. im so in love with Film. all of it. (not The Film Industry obviously.) im so fucking in love with it. the only real concrete reason that i wont end up killing myself in the next like month or two is because Film. and i just. need. people. i need parents. or something. fuck.

i think part of this is probably the long-term ramifications of ongoing childhood sexual, physical, and psychological abuse and never really having good, consistent support cause id be surprised if that didnt fuck with my brain (and, yk, untreated severe childhood brain damage from tbis beginning at less than a year old). but it doesnt really matter does it. ive been through the shit time and again and its not like anyone has appeared and been like ‘hello, i see you never had parents, this is who i am, would you like to get to know each other for a while and maybe i could be your mom?’ cause thats literally what i need. i need parents. like i know theres a thing of ‘if you didnt have parents then you cant undo that damage’ but like idk. if someone has a bunch of unhealed broken bones that got broken years ago that are now causing them a lot of pain you wouldnt just be like ‘sorry, i see youre in trouble from this shit, but because it happened years ago theres nothing we can do’ cause there is??? i forget how i was gonna say this before but like. i didnt have parents. with the ‘parents’ i had its a scientific anomaly i lived past age three. i refuse to believe that having Good Parents and a Good Support System now would do nothing for me. cause it would. 

im also facing impending homelessness due to a) welfare/disability programs not giving you enough to live off and b) not having a roommate/not having support systems/not having people. so that doesnt help.

i dont know how to do this. im on my own. im doing all i can. ive reached out to everyone i feel like i could reach out to and. im on my own.

help. i guess. idk what that means but im, once again, at an incredibly fucking AWFUL point in my life and i need help. i doubt anyone will be able to but. if youre able to then. idk. do something. ik that i sound desperate and pitiful and i literally dont care at all because i literally am desperate for support and i literally am at - ANOTHER - extremely low point in my life and its pitiful. im cringing at myself actually posting this because its like ‘you think youre actually find what you need via a tumblr post? where are you? cause thats not real life dude’ but i dont fucking have people to talk to (as you have already understood 🙃) and im tired and tired and tired and tired.

if you took the time to read this i thank you and i hope ur day is going vvv well

please dont reblog this!!

#childhood abuse tw #tw #tw alone in the world #suicide tw #please dont reblog this #no rb #homelessness tw

[dreadnought-dear-captain]

You Asked, I Told and Update

CW: Spoilers for Baghdad Waltz up to chapter 36 and some non-graphic discussion of childhood sexual abuse 

Hello!!!

Wow, I am so, so sorry for falling off the grid like that. I thought I was going to have WAY more time in October/November to work on the fic and work on fandom stuff in general, but my professional life threw me a huge right hook and I got completely sidetracked for weeks. So I’m off schedule a bit, in terms of having the next chapter. I’m sorry for the delay. 

I’m done with the full draft of Chapter 37 (about 23k - “short” but emotionally very dense) and am working through final revisions now. However, I also had to do an extensive amount of 9/11-related research for it, and part of that research has been reviewing oral histories of New Yorkers from the day of the attacks, and I came to the shocking realization that much of the prologue is historically inaccurate. Moreover, it’s shamefully inconsistent with the way that New Yorkers would respond to such an event. I’m embarrassed by how shoddy of a job I did with it.

Thus, I’m also going to be rewriting the prologue and including more accurate details, both historically and in terms of character dynamics. I mean, there’s no way Bucky could even live in Brooklyn and be a first responder at Ground Zero! All the bridges and tunnels were shut down. Shame on me. There will be ripple effects throughout the entire fic. Sigh. This is just round one of the massive amount of revisions I will be doing to the early chapters of the fic, which I wrote years ago now. I was going to wait to post both at the same time, but I don’t want to make you wait that long. I’ll just give you a notification when I finish the prologue revisions, and it’ll be like a little bonus chapter.

Anyway, here are some asks! Starting with a two-parter

First, thank you for the kind words. I’m glad you’re finding this fic moving. It’s definitely an emotional rollercoaster for these characters, and my hope (I guess?) is to have that be a parallel process for the readers. I think you hit the nail on the head that this relationship is exhausting. And you’re also right that not everyone would have the perseverance to keep coming back to it. It would be so much easier to amputate, pack up and go home. But once these characters get back into each other’s orbit, it’s very challenging for them to not keep crashing back into each other. It’s partially because they just love each other so much, but it’s also because they have an unhealthy relationship dynamic that sets them up for these toxic cycles. This will become especially apparent in the next chapter. They love each other, yes, but they also use each other to fill the gaping holes and insecurities they have within themselves. And they’re horrible communicators to boot. It’s a perfect storm. But at least they are going to try out some of this therapy crap maybe…?? We’ll see!

Along a similar line…

Thank you so much. That is so lovely of you to say, and I’m happy that I have your trust with this story. That said, I don’t know if it’s weakness if you’re not willing to run yourself through a miserable gauntlet of suffering the way Steve and Bucky are doing in this story. Would we call Rikki weak for drawing a boundary and stepping away from Bucky when his alcoholism was destroying their family? Some people used other words, but I’m not sure if weakness is the thing that might make someone walk away from a relationship like this. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should keep slamming your face against the same wall until you’re black and blue. This is a highly dysfunctional couple, and these men have serious issues they are grappling with personally that make them ripe for this kind of relationship. Bucky is an open wound, crippled with shame, desperate to do anything to feel better. Steve has deep attachment injuries from his chronically ill mother and deadbeat dad, as well as major control issues, and he wants to latch on and fix and make right, and if he manages every variable just right, he really thinks he can do it. And then throw in a fuckton of PTSD and TBI and alcoholism and physical injuries on top of it. So no, I wouldn’t rush to judge yourself for not envisioning yourself gutting it out in this grim scenario. 

But I also think we can identify with at least one of these characters, and we can root for people who want to overcome the shit that life has thrown at them to be with the person they love. Because they really do love each other. There’s just so much noise that it’s hard to tease out the signal sometimes. 

Good call on Bucky being a notoriously unreliable narrator, and he’s someone who is likely to underreport his suffering. Aside from his war-related injuries and his psychological struggles, Bucky’s most symptomatic issues are his GI problems. He has both peptic and esophageal ulcers, which are slightly different creatures. Peptic (stomach) ulcers, in Bucky’s case, have been caused by H. pylori and exacerbated by smoking and drinking. The esophageal ulcer was most likely caused by an excess of stomach acid due to gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) and, once again, exacerbated by drinking. Both of these have led to nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite, and weight loss. They have really emerged since Bucky got out of the military and pursued drinking with renewed vigor. Though he wouldn’t know it at the time because he doesn’t keep up with these things, his GERD is very possibly linked to acute, high dose exposure to the exceedingly toxic “dust” from the collapse of the World Trade Center towers. It’s one of the most widespread chronic health ailments of those exposed, aside from lower respiratory problems.

And now for some heavy-ass questions from licketysplittt — see CW above.

Yes, I am going to talk more about the context of Bucky’s abuse for sure, so I won’t go into the depths here. But I will say now that you are absolutely right that he has complex feelings for his abuser. I think it would have been easy to write him as just being unidimensionally angry or ashamed, but I know that’s not the experience of everyone who has experienced sexual abuse. This is especially the case if the person who commits the abuse it is a family member or caretaker or friend or trusted religious figure or someone who’s not just a “stranger in the bushes” type. I wanted to try to capture that experience in this fic. Bucky has also been multiply victimized by multiple people over the course of his life, which adds to this complexity and creates an internal narrative for him. Like what does it mean that this keeps happening to him? This is also not an uncommon experience for people who have been abused as children. And there’s also the added piece of this that Bucky’s gay, right? So he’s got this very, very young sexuality that’s on the verge of blooming (your Disney sexuality perhaps, sitting close, holding hands, etc) and this older male is making sexual advances toward him, and so he might ask if this person “saw” something in him aside from his social isolation that made him choose him. These are certainly questions he’s tortured himself over. I will get more into all of this, I promise. 

Winnie and George undoubtedly knew that their kid wasn’t a very popular one. But perhaps they always knew that he was a kid who wasn’t destined to have many friends because he’s “sensitive” or however they would characterize him (I’m sure they had different ways of viewing him). And I think it’s important to take into account the type of household that Bucky was in and the way he would shape his behavior. George was this total wildcard — “Best Dad in the World” most days but a screaming, violent tyrant at these odd, unpredictable times that were fucking terrifying for everyone in his path. This is a house where it’s best just to shut up and create as few problems as you can, because you don’t want to be the one that dad is gonna flip his shit at. And so everyone is walking on eggshells and Bucky is going to get very good at lying about how bad things are. And oh! Jamie finally has a friend, how wonderful. There will be more details in upcoming chapters about how this all transpires, but I think the dynamics at home made it possible for a lot of this to happen. And you’re right that these were not the most skillful parents, and their marriage was very strained and stressful for everyone. And these fictional assholes also frustrate me! The emotional content can be hard to write. It’s one reason these past few chapters have taken me soooooo painfully long. 

Great questions! You are all so thoughtful and kind. Sorry again for getting so terribly sidetracked. I am going to keep plugging away at the chapter and at comments and asks. I’m optimistic that I will have the next chapter for you within the next two weeks. I am pleased with this chapter and hope you’ll like it. Thank you for being so patient!!! 

#YOU ASKED I TOLD #send me asks #baghdad waltz #you are the best

[sarcasticbabywhispererjess]

The movie “Secret Obsession” opens with the main character Jennifer being chased through a rest stop bathroom by a knife wielding maniac. She escapes out into the rain (very dramatic), gets hit by a car and is subsequently brought to the hospital. 

The following happens in the hallway of the hospital and OR...

Bagging patient randomly off and on.

“She’s going into v-fib.” (closed captioning says v-tach)

No compressions are started.

“She’s unstable.” (no shit)

No one starts compressions… way to fail ACLS step 1. Get on the chest!

“We need to start compressions.” Yes, please!

No one actually starts compressions, but someone does listen to her with a stethoscope.

“Miss can you hear me?” She’s in v-fib and you’re not doing compressions, her brain isn’t being perfused… she ain’t gonna answer you, doc.

“She’s unresponsive.” Ya think?

“I’m losing a pulse.” She’s been in v-fib, but had a pulse this whole time? I think your monitor is faulty. Also, why start compressions if there’s a pulse… not that they have done any compressions so far.

Still no compressions.

Shocks with 300 joules… with paddles that we don’t ever use anymore. (You don’t shock with 300 joules on any defibrillators, 120-200 on biphasic, or 360 on monophasic… yes I looked this up.)

“Bradycardia. 30… 90/50.”

Patient is in an organized rhythm and has a pretty good BP.

“Charge to 360”  What?! Why?! Shocks her again. 

WTF?! Why did you shock her? You don’t shock bradycardia.

“Get another amp of epi”… shocks again. 

That was three shocks in like a minute… never any compressions.

Pulse is now 75… they call it a success and say they can start surgery.

That was a DISASTER of a code. I get that it’s a movie, but codes are exciting when you follow actual ACLS guidelines (less defibrillating though), they didn’t need to do this. Plus, just edit and reorder some of those lines and it would have made more sense. Also... 

DO SOME FUCKING COMPRESSIONS!

Ok, below I continue with a play by play and commentary on the rest of the movie... warning, spoilers ahead.

Jennifer is in a hospital bed, extubated after surgery, but hadn’t regained consciousness after surgery. No, we don’t do that. 

Leg is in a brace and sling. Huh? Why?

Has Coban, but no gauze wrapped around her head like a headband (not sure where her injury is… somewhere near her hippocampus since that is where her brain injury is according to the doctor when he is explaining about how her memory is going to be affected by her brain injury) and random pieces of white tape on her nose and fingers. ???

Jennifer is in the hospital for several weeks it seems after the montage of memory card games and learning to push her own wheelchair. All of her facial abrasions are healed as she’s being discharged which also denotes the passing of time. I’m not quite sure why they kept her so long. 

She is standing at the counter and is told by the nurse discharging her (who also was there the night she was admitted) that her CT results came back and is given a vague update. Nurse gives her prescription bags… I mean, I guess it’s a nurse, she’s not wearing a badge but is wearing a stethoscope around her neck  (confirmed later, she’s a nurse). She gives Jenn a cane to walk with when she gets home… 2-3mins a day (That’s like no time at all). Jenn is given no instruction of how to use it, I’ve only ever seen her use a wheelchair.

Jennifer is sent home with a wheelchair. Her leg brace is gone. So can she not walk because of her brain injury, not her leg injury?

Man, this nurse works a lot… she seems to be there every day/night. And she’s in charge of follow-up calls/appointments. They’re in California, so at least she probably makes pretty good money since she runs the whole damn hospital.

OK, cane/wheelchair is because of her leg. Why the fuck doesn’t she just have crutches? That’s dumb. I guess it’s to make her more helpless.

God damn, her skin is so nice. 

Russell and Jenn start to get intimate, Jenn has a scary memory flash and rebukes his advances. Russell doesn’t take it well. He roughly grabs her arm. He starts talking about how much he has done for her and how he’s her husband (is he though?), so he deserves better. Twat. Jenn is freaked out both by her memory and Russell’s behavior, but just turns off the light, rolls over away from him, and goes to bed. I would have left. 

Damn, nurse Masters is still at work? She literally works 24/7 in this ED. Jenn still has an active chart? There are doctor’s notes in it? This place hasn’t switched to EMR yet? But they have high res security cameras that hospital security can pull up and email files within minutes? Impressive. Do a lot of crimes happen in this hospital? So those are their priorities? Weird.

Wtf is a heritage tattoo? That’s how the detective figured out her maiden name? Seems far fetched, but I’m not looking it up.

The detective enters Jennifer’s home that she shared with her parents according to records… and he keeps touching things without gloves on. You’re a shit detective, dude. How have her parents been dead this whole time and no one has looked for them? They didn’t have jobs? Were they hermits?

Russell leaves and Jenn hears a lock sound from the bedroom door. She jiggles the door handle and can’t get it open, “Did he just lock it?” Well he didn’t unlock it ya dumb bitch.  Well apparently she was some kind of criminal in her past life, so she can open locks with a bobby pin. Really? The password on Russell’s computer is Jennifer’s maiden name. FFS. This is the most unrealistic thing in the movie. 

Why would he cut the cord for the internet? Just to be dramatic. He could just as easily have just unplugged the cord and taken it with him. Did he not want to use the internet anymore either? Anyway, he planned far ahead enough to disable the internet just in case she got into the computer, but didn’t delete all the pictures pre-photoshopping off his computer? Idiot.

Who just swallows a pill that someone puts in their mouth just because they also forced water into your mouth? You’re not a dog, Jennifer. 

Russell uses a chain and lock that he happens to have in his pocket to chain her to the bed. Pretty sure she can get that chain off of her ankle if she wanted to. It’s not that tight.

Oh my goodness, nurse Masters isn’t at work! Russell is super weird to her and then speeds away from the store where he bought lye.

The chain is much tighter suddenly… but loose enough that Jenn could get it off. Ok, wtf is wrong with her leg… she can’t seem to straighten it from like 30 degrees… they should’ve kept that brace on her from the beginning of the movie and also done more ROM exercises with her while she was in the hospital for all those weeks. She apparently used to be some kind of medic? Duct tape as an ace bandage ankle wrap? Probably not the most effective, but could be worse. Though I imagine she’d only have some soft tissue injury from that chain, I don’t know if she needs to wrap her ankle.

Jenn gets into the garage where she acts like it smells bad.. like a dead body, maybe? She hides in her car that is in the garage when fake Russell gets home. He also acts like the garage reeks. Why does he open the trunk to see the real Russell’s dead body? Like, he knows that it’s in there and he could already smell the decomposing body… he just wanted a better whiff? Also, why hasn’t he buried the body yet? He buried that witness the day he killed him. Well, semi-buried… it was a really shallow grave that Jenn tripped onto and touched the dude’s hand.  Honestly, he did a piss-poor job at hiding the body. Also, now that I’m thinking about it, real Russell’s body isn’t very decomposed for having been in the trunk of a car in a hot garage for several weeks (unless the garage has A/C, but there would still be a lot more rotting of the flesh after such a long time). Jennifer’s parents bodies decomp was much more progressed even though it seems they’ve all been dead the same amount of times.

The detective is at “their” house, he knows Russell isn’t Russell and there’s something nefarious afoot. This detective needs to go back to detective school. Stop touching potential evidence without gloves on. Why would fake Russell just cover up an old sign that has his actual last name on it? Just get a new sign, you nut job. Well, the shitty detective isn’t aware of his surroundings and doesn’t have his gun drawn, so of course fake Russell/Ryan is able to sneak up behind him and hit him over the head. He’s dead… actually probably just unconscious in an ice chest since fake Russell is only good at killing people most of the time. Also, I have a feeling we’re going to need the detective later to help save Jenn.

Uh oh, glasses are off… I guess he’s not Russell anymore. He’s crazy, obsessive Ryan.

Yes, take time to watch that video on your phone, Jenn… get sentimental while you’re trying to run for your life. 

Why is this dude so hyper focused on this chick? He’s hot. He could have his pick of plenty of girls. I suppose it’s hard to think in rational/logical terms with a sociopath no matter what he looks like. 

Oh good… he’s doing the villain speech where he explains his backstory. Apparently he had to light a single taper for it. I have a feeling the candlestick holder might come into play later… in Jennifer’s benefit. No, wait... he left the lighter and tied her up with flammable rope.  But she knocked it on the floor… moron.

Oh good, the detective is alive. He’ll save them both even if he’s also an idiot. Since all women need saving. 

Wait, she got herself out. Why hit him with the vase? The solid metal candle holder would’ve been a better choice. Solid work falling down the stairs, Jenn

The detective is out of the ice chest. And he’s using the Babe from Kill Bill incentive… yelling at himself to make his brain/muscles work. He at the very least has a concussion/TBI from being knocked unconscious, yelling at yourself doesn’t fix that.

Jennifer! Why are you going into the woods? You have his keys and there are so many cars on the property, you probably have a key that will work on at least one of them. Even if you didn’t have the keys, if you can pick a lock, can’t you hotwire a car too?  Why do you think you’d get better signal in the mother fucking woods? Yes, try to hit him with a heavy log that you can barely lift. You’ll get good momentum and swing. Just use one of those rocks you just threw to distract him. Idiot.

Ok, she shot fake Russell/Ryan in the back while he was wrestling with the detective. The first shot was fairly high in the chest and had a pretty good chance of hitting his lung or something important, but he’s still able to come at her. Her second shot got him in the upper right abdomen, so probably the liver and he just goes down... dead. FFS. At least have shot him in the heart area, that would’ve been slightly more believable. Oh well, I guess that’s that. A little follow up with the detective and Jenn. She’s moving back to San Jose (hopefully she’s getting a new place since her parents were murdered in her old house) and the detective is moving to AZ even though he never found his daughter that had gone missing as a child many years ago (a part of his backstory that brought nothing to the story and was never resolved).

Guys, this was not a great movie. I did kind of enjoy tearing it apart though.

#secret obsession #movie review #acls review #don't watch movies with nurses #we're the worst #why can't any movies or tv get codes right? #just do some damn compressions people! #netflix #netflix original

[gotoveritstillloveyou]

Aight, so, I'm about to just fucking eviscerate myself, and I need to say some shit before I do so. In fact, the next several chapters is gonna be all dark negative shit about you and me and life and our problems. I decided to save all the cool weird shit till the end.

First of all you can't take this wrong way. This chapter is dedicated to me just saying all the things I did wrong, without any explanation unless it's absolutely required, and I'm bout to just go the fuck off on myself. It's basically a list of horrible memories and reasons to hate me. But look, everyone does bad shit, some more than others, some worse than others. Not everybody does what I'm writing though. I'm about to acknowledge my awareness of what was wrong about me, validate how it affected us, and own up to it.

In general I write and work on all the mistakes of my past and when I work on this specific project I work on all the problems we had and ways we hurt each other. That's not the whole picture. All day long all the time, I think about all our good memories and how special and great you are, that's what keeps me going. And then I gotta find answers and solutions. Those answers are hidden within the problems, and they are the things that are broken.

There are a lot of reasons I did all these things. So much of it was out of my control and just hurt me as much as it hurt anyone else. I didn't want to be feeling or acting or being like this. Some of its not like that though, some of these are just me. Just me being an asshole or me just sucking. There's no explanation or justification to any of this, but there are reasons, and those reasons do not buy any forgiveness, but at least, for the both of us, we can at least see I was truly not some psychotic asshole evil person at heart. But I'm not writing about those reasons here. I'm gonna attempt to just flat out say this shit.

That's the last couple things to keep in mind. It's one of the reasons I have chosen to continue living, these are not the things of my heart. Deep down in my heart I feel like I never skipped a beat. I have always been good in my heart. That was hard for me to accept honestly. That's how I'm trying to live my life now. None of these things truly came from my heart, they came from my ego, my pain, my stupidity, and just how I was almost forced to respond to life. I was created by my environment and I just took the worst path. I could've been forged by the fire but instead I burned.

This is the first point of order but also kinda part of the preamble. My stupidity. That is one thing that really ties this whole story together, extends from beginning to end. I'm just fucking stupid. The things I've done and the thoughts in my head and all of that, just stupid. Even now that I finally truly understand myself, and realize not everything was just a stupid mistake, but see how I slipped up, or I was misled, or reality was warped, or my mind played games on itself, or things weren't in my control, I still just feel stupid. I feel like while almost everything had a point of origin, had a long backstory, and had a set of circumstances leading it to happen, 99% of it could ALSO at the same time be explained with one thing: I'm fucking stupid. So much of this shit I think about, like this whole books worth of shit, was right in front of my fucking face and super obviously and blatant and self explanatory, yet I can see the reasons my mind missed it, but still, I'm like God DAMN what a fucking DUMBASS. I can see what led to my mistakes, that maybe they had good intentions, that maybe my failures were true attempts but failed for different reasons, and I look at my mistakes and I'm like holy shit what a fucking mouth breather. The things I've discovered and realized about you, they were really obvious at the time. Like in my mind as I discover them, it feels like I have unveiled some hidden secret and removed some illusion and found a deeper truth. Which often is truly the case. But about half of that? When I write it down in words. I'm like holy fuck what a tardo. It's like writing down "The sky is blue". And I'm still fucking stupid. I'm just stupid. I'm maybe less stupid than I was because I'm not all fucked up now, but looking back and seeing how stupid I was, that's the one thing I can't confidently say that I've fixed, I look back and see someone so fucking dumb that it's a joke to ever believe they could be less dumb. I'll get into this in the paranormal chapter, but I dont call myself a wizard for weirdo reasons, it truly is the one archetype that most closely matches the true nature of my soul, and even then, maybe one of the less talked about aspects of a wizard, but absolutely essential, is that he is the fool.

Hey me from the future here. I just spent a while writing this and then deleted it and stopped writing for a few days. I can't do it. I tried to write this out in excruciatingly overwritten detail and make it long as fuck. I just really want to own up to every single thing. I'm not gonna be able to do that. This entire couple years, I've been working through the stuff in my head and Journaling some of it. In the long run this is just my journal. Well some of those things I wrote down really fucked me up. Like a few of the longer posts in my journal set me into a 3 week long mental episode. I'm not bullshitting about what I said, I haven't just been sitting around and thinking about you occasionally and sometimes writing stuff about you. I've been reliving and regressing and examining my whole life in extended detail. Several times it has fucked me up and writing this was trying to do that and I just can't have it. I'm doing really good right now. Also, I was getting really deep into like every single bad thought in my head and they just aren't relevant. Every good thought I had during those times also had a doubt or a bad thought or something selfish, and everyone has that, and it isn't the real them, so I ain't writing that shit. Also, the times on this mental journey where processing stuff messed me up, sometimes it was just working through something tough, but a lot of times it was self imposed punishment. I don't believe my punishment is over for the way I've lived my life, but I simply can't do it to myself anymore. I did it until I was near death and felt so bad that I finally stopped and I'm not starting again. So I'm still gonna confess my sins but I'm not gonna go crazy with it. Like I said this is really just my final journal of the subject and it's directed at you but its for me, but if for some reason you've found this, and your one hang up is that I didn't say and explain every fucked up thing I did in painful levels of detail, just let me know.

Well of course it's starts at the start. Just at the start it was just me being a normal flawed dickhead, before all the crazy and evil. I didn't bullshit you on my sob story about Kammy. Yes, bitch was crazy, yes I had a TBI, yes I had just come out of a dementia tier 6 month trance. The part I left out that I was a dysfunctional dickhead. This is really the only part I'm adding explanations too, I swear. I was a fuckin asshole and bad at life and aimless and a loser and prone to agoraphobia and dissociation and tantrums of anger. Everyone hides shit like at the start. You hid a way bigger side. It's just that I lied and we saw the fruits of it. I just thought that was all due to my unhappiness and I just wasn't gonna be like that anymore it was a new me. That worked for a while.

See I got frontal lobe damage. Say someone really nice got frontal lobe damage. They would get a little meaner. It would be really obvious. Well I got frontal lobe damage so I guess everyone just thought they were finding out how mean I really was. And I'm anti-medicine and psychiatry. And I'm prone to dissociation and hiding my true thoughts. And I had childhood ptsd. And my life was already not going well and I was not putting myself into it. And THEN I got frontal lobe damage. Twice. So yeah I lied about that. I thought it was just really bad depression and when we met I was just then coming to terms with having a TBI, and thought it was just gonna be cognitive issues. No, I hit my head so fucking hard that cerebral fluid leaked out of my nose for 8 months and 5 years of my life were ruined. I just thought it was all my unhappy life with Kammys fault and I was free now and I was in control and I was gonna be a bad ass and just defeat all my demons at once.

Since this is the only time I'm gonna address the beginning of our relationship in a negative light, I wanna give it a small paragraph. I did not try to date you because you were young, or vulnerable, or the way you are. Just wanna put that out there. I know a lot of people thought that. I really have nothing else to say about that or feel any need to try and prove that. It's just true. I loved you and you're amazing, that is the only reason I wanted to be with you. No confession coming from that, but I felt one was expected, so I wanted to add this in.

Now, you were in fact vulnerable. Not gullible but like willing to listen/follow. You were vulnerable because of your situation. The only reason I liked that was just because you were down to roll and no baggage. I see the people around you take heavy advantage of your naive nature. I was always very careful with that. If I ever even broached that territory, I made sure I was being careful and not trying to fuck you around. That said I do have a confession, it's small in the grand scheme of things, but it really makes me wanna fucking puke and it's super cringe. I guess I just saw you as a girlfriend at first. Mostly this is just those typical first doubts everyone has. But I figured we would date for a year or so and I would help you out and then you could go off and find someone better for you. Like the dark side of my mind saw you as just company and temporary at first. I know this contradicts my previous story. This isn't the full story, this is my confession. This is me talking myself out of believing in the love I really felt. But then I just kept getting to know you more and realizing I really couldn't live without you. But I had just come out of this long ass relationship and then had all this fun being alone and dating, so I was just flooded with doubt and insecurity. That's not the confession. The confession is I then proceeded to try and manipulate you into some weird relationship dynamic that would put all my fears to rest and "not fuck my life up by being tied down". It was really scummy and doglike and you never were into it just went along with it to be with me. When you moved in I dropped it and that was your plan all along lol. Just being a normal dog man honestly but I feel gross for acting like that.

Now I will say I always brought up throuples. I just wanna say I never said that because I'm polyamourous or I wanted a threesome. I have legitimate justifiable reasons for that. They just didn't apply to you and I didn't see it, and always brought it up. You even brought it up a few times on your own, so did kammy. Just for me, it's more about balance. Just doesn't apply to you. You're my match. You're literally almost too much for me. Other girls aren't like that. That said I brought it up too much, and generally had a wandering eye because Im just a perv, but I shoulda kept that shit to myself. It's hurtful and degrading to say stuff like regardless of what's behind it.

I remember the first time I got mad at you and I do not regret it. I wish so bad to remember what you actually said that made me mad. I raised my voice slightly and said something very stern, slightly rude maybe. You were being disrespectful to the level of degrading. I don't regret it, but that broke the seal. Up until then,, I had just ignored you or stood my ground quietly, or at least calmly. I never should've stopped doing that.. The next couple times it happened, a few times it was the only way I was able to get my point across, and it worked. A few times were my first slip ups into my old bad self.

I only wrote that last paragraph to make a point. Anger is okay. But more than that, not being gentle is okay, standing my ground and sticking up for myself is okay. But I'm making a point. The first couple times were okay, or small mistakes. Pretty much every time after that was fucked up and wrong.

I was mean and unpleasant towards you for the rest of our entire relationship. Look you're a brat, emotional, and dramatic, and I miss all those things about you. At first it was just dealing with that, getting frustrated, or typical boyfriend girlfriend fights.

But then, I just got mean. Each day I got worse. I was the boy you loved who was so caring and thoughtful and nice. Then week by week I just got meaner.

There's a lot a reason but that's not what this is here for. It doesn't matter who's fault the anger was or what was behind it. It doesn't matter what lines I never crossed. I was mean. Over and over and over again. I chose to be mean again and again. I was just mean all the fucking time sometimes. I was mean over nothing. I snapped over nothing. I woke up already mad.

I blamed you. I blamed you for just fucking everything sometimes. I blamed you for things that you did actually do, they were you're fault, the blame was yours, but I chose to be mean about it. I insisted you did it on purpose whether you did or didn't. Sometimes you didn't didn't do anything. But regardless, I blamed you for one reason or the other, and my response was to get angry, throw a fit, withhold things from you, refuse to be nice to you, or refused to do something you asked or take you somewhere, because I blamed you and I was being fucking mean.

I held resentment too. I didn't stop blaming you or being mean about something just because the fight ended. It continued onward until you either proved me wrong or stopped doing it. And of course you didn't stop, I was being mean as fuck, you're just like me, I accused you and Kammy of doing the same thing to me: I was mean so you felt unloved, I didn't provide you an environment or chance to say sorry and change, I shamed you for it and I made it seem like our love was on the table, and that hurts, so you acted out. And then when you acted out I was twice as mean. And when you did it again I was quadruple mean, regardless if it was on purpose, on accident, or just in my head.

I was mean all the time. I yelled. I threw things. Multiple times I threw totinos pizzas or food. I stayed mad for hours.

There was a similar progression with how I dealt with your craziness. At first I was accepting and tried to help. Then it just got ridiculous. I would say one thing and you would completely shut down or lock yourself in the bathroom. At first it was like you would have an episode, or a panic attack, and I would calm you down for an hour and it still didn't work so I would try anger. And then that gap got shorter, I would try to help for a shorter time, and I wasn't just trying anger, or trying to show frustration, I was getting mad. Then there was a period where your mental episodes to me just meant we were having a fight so I fought with you, made it worse, extended it. And then there was the transitional phase where you were getting less crazy and I was getting more crazy, and at that point slowly I started thinking fuck this bitch. The second you had an issue I was like oh here we go again. If it wasn't directly related to me I would still try to help you, if you seemed legit upset. But if it was something between us I just instantly turned it into a dramatic fight and started being mean.

I did help you. By pushing you, being stubborn, maybe getting a little loud and stern. I helped you get outside more and feel better for things and be able to go do stuff without it being a big panic attack. But then I kept going. I kept pushing harder and harder. I stopped seeing you for who you really are and just wanted you to just shut up and be okay all the time. I was pushing myself so hard, and I felt you needed to be pushed that hard. So I just pushed harder and harder, got more loud, got more mean, got angry more quickly, and got more frustrated and it just grew and grew.

I wrote like a 4 page dissertation on the time I made you cry with spray cheese. I just feel so fucking bad about it. I put spray cheese on you and it triggered your autism really hard and you started crying. I almost got a little mad but then I tried to comfort you. I decided I had tried enough and you had cried enough. Really I kinda did. I tried to calm you down and make you feel better. You kept crying so I was just gonna let you cry. And you just cried more and more you just started all over from the beginning. I realize now that maybe you were just that upset, or you were crying because your heart was breaking over all the stuff going on in our lives. God it made me so made. I yelled at you to shut the fuck up. I thought you were doing it on purpose and you refused to let me comfort you and you were crying loud on purpose. I'm not giving you reasons, that's part of the confession, it's horrible that I even thought that. And even if I did think that, ptsd or not, why the fuck would I act like that. Jesus christ. A poor crying sad girl and I thought she was doing it to fuck with me so I yelled at her.

I'm getting off track but thats honestly one of the worst things I've ever done in my entire life. I was glad to be getting some writing done but I'm gonna have to stop for a while. That's one of those memories that makes me physically sick. It doesn't matter how guilty I feel BTW, that's not what I'm trying to say. It just makes me sick. What a horrible thing. A lot of people in prison for heinous crimes divorce themselves from the idea that it was the real them that did the crime. I'm not doing that. I wish I could. I wish you would call me and say you were actually doing it on purpose. But it makes me just as sick to think I did such a cruel thing, but it makes my head spin because that is also one of the clearest memories of how fucked up I was in my brain. I cannot believe the thoughts I had, the feelings I felt, and the way I acted. That is not me. I'm not divorced from shit, I did that shit, I know why I did it, I can feel myself doing it. That's not me. The real me would've let you cry for hours while holding you and did whatever it takes later to find out what was really wrong. It doesn't matter. That was so horrible and cruel. A lot of our other bad memories have at least some nuance to them, some back and forth, 2 toxic sick people, at least some semblance of a dramatic fight, not this one. It makes me feel like I am truly evil inside. I cannot imagine how bad I hurt you by doing that. I can't imagine the feelings you were feeling. To have your autism trigger and then your emotions start pouring out and me telling you to shut the fuck up and being mean. I feel like if I could feel the feelings I made you feel that night, I would actually die. I have to stop writing for a few days.

I didn't abuse you. Hold your horses before you shit yourself. There's just no part of this confession where I say "I'm your abuser I'm sorry". You can put your boots in the over and callem biscuits but that don't make it so.

I tried to ram the theory that I'm an abuser so far up my ass so many times. It just isn't true. I am a piece of shit that did bad things. I am a sick person in a bad situation. I'm an angry mean person.

You know in my edit above where I said sometimes the work and Journaling I've been doing messed me up? My story of what I've put my time into isn't bullshit. I haven't been sitting around musing about my ex girlfriend. I have been investigating, researching, and experimenting, every aspect of my life, every shadow, every part of my brain, health, ego, and every memory. I couldn't take it anymore and I had to get to the bottom of it. A lot of times this shit affected my work, my lifestyle, my health, my mental status.

You know which one fucked me up really bad? I wrote down every bad thing you did or made me feel but I used the terminology of domestic abuse and described what happened in the language of an abuse victim. It fit very very well. By the time I finished writing it I think it sent me into a spiral that lasted 6 weeks. Writing about my episodes and uncovering my trauma fucks me up, writing about good memories also particularly hurts me, but I remember this one particularly fucking me up. Don't worry, I saw through it. I explored every possibility I could think of and it was one of the dead ends.

I don't know why it fucked me up so bad. I fucking hope not because it was actually true. That it fit so well that I had to completely lie to myself and keep writing to reinforce my denial. I think it was just such a dark ending and hid too much truth. This was way before I started having revelations and improvements. So I think my brain was like NO BITCH START OVER.

An abuser is a specific kind of monster and criminal. Now, they do have "reasons" and could be self aware of them like I am. I don't call them reasons. I call them origins. They may have psychological problems, or be part of a cycle of abuse. Hint hint. But they cross a line at some point. They aren't doing it out of pathology, they aren't doing it on accident as a trauma response or a bad learned behavior. They cross a line where abuse is just what they do. I would say it's out of hatred, but I think most of them are sociopaths, so it's really out of nothing, they don't see you as a person. The things they do are cruel and intentional. They trick you into loving them, manipulate your emotions to keep you under control.

An abuser is an evil demon, who you fear, who hits you, hurts you, and then tells you it's your fault. Meeting an abuser is the same as getting mugged in an alleyway. You're a random victim of a criminal. You weren't chosen for any reason other than your victimizable. An abuser degrades, they tell you the dinner you cooked is disgusting, your body is disgusting, your stupid and its all your fault. Verbal abuse, yelling at you for no reason, they may be yelling at you about something but they are doing it for no actual reason other than to abuse you. Emotional abuse. Your emotions are nothing but a tool for them. That's the abuse cycle. They make you feel absolutely horrible and at fault about everything, make you feel bad and disgusting, that's the abuse. They make you feel worthless and not redeemable, so you must stay with them, and of course threaten to kill you if you leave. Then the literal abuse ends. They make sure you know it's all your fault, and then you have a period of peace, usually beginning by showering you with good emotions and presents. You see the "other side" of them and can't help but love them and you're being flooded with positivity. There's no other side of them, there's just an on/off switch to the literal abuse part, and trickery and manipulation. You're either scared to leave them, or in love with them during manipulated positivity, one or the other. You're never just their girlfriend. And then one day you escape. Abusers may come back for you and try to trick you back, but 99% of them disappear forever and find a new victim within 6 months, that's an fbi statistic. Abusers don't feel remorse. Maybe they can change, but personally I don't think they can. That line can't be uncrossed. The abuser, in their mind, is fully justified in their behavior. They think they did the right thing. There's no struggle, it's not a hard relationship that didn't work out, it was a stage play where they are the lead role and you're a side character that deserved what they got and you're the one that abandoned them.

What I did was bad. I was a real piece of shit. I hurt you a lot and made you cry. You hit me with some pretty bad shit. I didn't do that though. I almost kinda think what I did was worse, which is what this rant is leading up to. If I could just say to myself yeah my behavior was abuse, I coulda ended this whole thing right there. I tried pretty hard to do that. If I was able to come to that conclusion, I would have nothing to say to you. I wouldn't have you on my mind anymore either. This story would've wrapped up cleanly 8 months ago with a nice bow on top. I would've known exactly what to do for myself as well. Paradoxically, and only because it's not true, my heart would've put an end to this story. Abusers don't have good hearts, that's why it's a paradox, and abuser would just carry on as normal. But if I landed on that the solution would've been simple. Either I would have stopped working on myself, no longer any motivation either because of you, or to have a woman in my future. I would never let it happen again. Or, I would have just killed myself, like all abusers should have. Now, I did damn near accept you as my abuser, like I said it lines up very well. I looked at my own behavior and was like nah, doesn't line up. Bad, should feel bad, maybe should kill myself anyway, but doesn't line up. Yours lined up, but I looked deeper, I know what happened now, photo finish on that one, glad I kept going, turned out good.

I was manipulative, as I've already confessed. You're stubborn and feral. My manipulation was good hearted, my manipulation was me trying to train you to live better and act better. And then, life got worse, and my illness got worse, and my manipulation did become very mean, the good intentions remained, but so did Ghengis Kahns good intentions. My teaching truly did become manipulation and pressure and anger. I also manipulated you to try to prove my PTSD fears untrue.

I yelled at you. I yelled really loud and angrily at you. What was I yelling about though? One of two things, either literally our exact relationship problems and the solutions to them, a good talk we needed to have, except I was fucking yelling because I was insane, and you weren't listening because I was yelling. Or, I yelled about all the fucked up shit in my head, an overflow of all the shit I was repressing.

It's embarrassing to say, but yeah we had those toxic dramatic moments that both toxic and abusive couples had, but they were fucking temper tantrums like a 5 year old. Now, that doesn't really describe well the content of what was in my head, or what was going on in our lives, but those peak moments of drama were essentially a really gigantic toddler fucking losing his shit in a really skilled fashion.

I never insulted you, degraded you, I never talked about your body, your mind, I never insinuated that your some piece of shit is the reason we are having the issue. I know some of my behavior may have scared or disturbed you, and undoubtedly it damaged you and hurt your heart, but you were never scared of me. You know what you did during these fights? Well a lot of times you fought back. In fact, a lot of these memories weren't just me having and episode, they were you having an episode, or us having a fight, or 2 really weird crazy people in a little house freaking the fuck out. Sometimes, you just sat there and cried, or defended yourself. Sometimes, you fucking hit me, through shit at me or around the house.

I did blame you for things. I blamed you for things you did, and blame is not how a relationship works, accountability is, and yelling is not how it works, talking is. But I blamed and yelled. I blamed you for things you did not do. I blamed you for things that were legitimate miscommunication or confusion, except instead of talking about it, and figuring it out, I was a piece of shit to you about it. I also blamed you for things that were 100% true in my mind, because my mind was broken. I blamed you for doing things that kammy did to me, because while maybe she didn't exactly purposely abuse me, she left such a litany of fucked up shit behind in my mind that there's no other word for it.

Abusers escalate. Our life did get worse. It wasn't an escalation of abuse. It was a progression of my mental illness, our life getting worse, and all the things stacking up and compounding. I ran. As it got worse, I started fucking running away. The episodes and delusions got worse, so when they happened, I started fucking running away half way through. I definitely was getting louder, and getting really prone to smashing shit, it was getting way way worse, so I did that shit, but something in me was like OH FUCK so I started running away. I remember one instance where the second I snapped I just fucking ran. You shoved me and yelled at me but I just felt that fucked up feeling and ran. I can remember also feeling fucked up and just putting my shoes on and leaving a bunch of times.

There was that one time, that time I burned myself with cigarettes. That's a different fucked up different thing for a different chapter.

An abuser traps you. They either manipulate you into staying, or threaten you to leave. I broke up with you every time I had an episode. After the episode I tried to get you to leave. I threatened you once, during the mentioned cigarette incident. I said every fucked up thing I could just to get you out of the house. The night the neighbor called the cops on us, I locked you out. I think that was my worst mental breakdown. I was trying to get you to leave. I was trying to end this. I didn't truly think it was your fault, I either thought it was my fault or some kind of mental problem. I just wanted it to end. I tried to get you to go home for a few months, or break up with you, or kick you out, or run away. I put every effort I had left into trying to figure out my problem and make it stop. I kept trying for 2 fucking years after you left to fix it until I finally did. I broke up with you. You did not escape me. I broke up with you and you finally left and I rambled incoherent bullshit to you on discord and never once tried or asked for you to come back.

Maybe an abuser would use this strategy, write this whole ass thing to try to get you back. They would be lying first of all. That's what abusers do. The abuse happens, then they fake how sorry it is but also gaslight/blame you. There was no abusive cycle with us. There was no up and down circular abuse cycle. It just straight sucked. The next day I did say how sorry I was and how scared I was and that I was gonna try really hard to fix it. I never once said it was because of you. I never flooded you with good emotions or gifts. Nope. The next day we just had the same fucking problems. The next whole month we had the same fucked up life, with occasional good memories or moments of chillness. And then one of us had another breakdown, or fight. That was the cycle. Two crazy kids getting fucked over by poverty and losing their minds together.

So just deal with it. I didn't abuse you. You basically almost abused me. That's just not what was happened. Maybe it's pathological of me to focus so hard on what the truth is. But its not the truth. When I find the truth, I accept it. I'm not working my way around it. This is the most life changing experience that happened to me ever and when I'm done rebuilding myself it's gonna influence the course of my entire life, and that will NOT be based on a lie or a rationalization, and if these memories are gonna fuck with me they are gonna fuck with me correctly.

You have been abused before. It was easy to tell yourself that all that happened was you got abused again. It was definitely easy to explain this complicated ass shit to other people. If that's what you had to tell yourself to keep going, fine. But you were there. I don't write this to trick you, I write this to give myself closure, and I kinda think none of this even matters to you at all, but I write this to in fantasy land also give you closure.

Now that I said that, let me invalidate all of it. If you felt abused, then you were abused. If you want to tell me what I did was abuse, I will listen, and I will accept it. You were undoubtedly my victim, I was also your victim, I was also my own victim, and you were the victim of the consequences and expressions of what I was a victim of. If you felt abused, you were, and I'm the abuser. I would rather you didn't think that. I don't think it's true enough, but you own your own truth. I would rather you think that I'm a piece of shit that hurt you really bad, a failure, a loser, a hurtful mean asshole, someone that betrayed you and let you down and fucked you over. All those things are true, I don't believe I abused you. I never did this out of hate, I never crossed that line, and I tried to stop it and didn't want it to happen. I'm an absolute curmudgeon, asshole, violent, dickhead, shitty piece of shit, and I hurt the fuck out of you forever and ever. It can't be undone and what we call it doesn't matter.

I think what I did is worse. I think all the shit I listed before the abuse rant is really fucking bad. In some fucked up way it would almost be better if those actions were out of abuse. Then it was just abuse and not your fault, and I'm an abuser so just throw me in the trash and forget all the memories, they are just trauma. That's softer than the truth. The truth is I was just a guy you loved that was an incredibly hurtful jerk asshole. Just by being himself. And you know what, a lot of it wasn't our faults. It was situational or an accident. That's fuckin horrible. That's like dropping a baby on its head.

Nah, I think it's still worse. With what I know now, now that I'm no longer insane, now that I know who you are and know who I am, I think what I know now is worse. We have both been brats and assholes our whole lives, and we both have had people abuse us our whole lives. Nah. This is worse.

It's that shit at the beginning. When we met. You were stuck out in that town, you felt like your family was abusing you, the one friend you had her boyfriend tried to rape you and she was manipulating you. Then this guy shows up and he has all the same interests as you. You were sitting around bored and sad and lonely and rotting away. He came and swooped you up. But then, you were nuts. But it didn't scare him off. Nah. You told him your secrets and things about yourself you were scared to say and he was like oh cool that's no big deal. He promised you this big dream life. Yall were gonna be a team and treat each other right. He was so interesting and you were telling people how cool he was and showing them this cool book he gave you. He got you a house and you started going crazy in there and he was always there to calm you down and help you work through it. You started feeling better and better, losing weight, skin glowing up, free from all the boredom and abuse you had at home. Things were tough and weren't always great but slowly we we learning things and putting our life together, making little improvements to our house, setting up little things we wanted, he planted you a garden, got you a guinea pig.

Then slowly, day by day, he betrayed you. You watched this guy that you thought was so amazing just slowly lose his mind, slowly the house got nastier and his attitude got nastier. Less and less he acted like that guy you met. More and more he blamed you. Life got less fun and more sad, you missed your home, you never got anything fun to. He got worse and worse, more loud, directed more at you. He wasn't even the guy you remember. The dream was dying. He used to be the guy that wasn't like the others and would never hurt you, no matter how hard you tried to test him or drive him crazy he always said look I love you get over it ill always love you we will figure this out. But he was so far from that. Now he was the guy that would hurt you over something you didn't even do, something that was just in his head. You had struggles at first together, but you were able to learn and figure them out together, and it made us both proud when we fixed a problem. But now, it's the same problem, every day, but worse each time. He used to be the guy that would take you camping and stomp around naked chasing a possum in the woods, the guy that would take you driving and stop to save a turtle off a road. Now he just lays there like a log. He brought you to this cool town and took you to all different stores and new places to eat but now he just lays there and gets mad if you ask for anything. When yall met you didn't have any money for yourself but he always took you to get a pony or a calico critter and some eyelashes but now he won't even pay to get your nails done, once, ever. He used to hold you until you stopped crying but now he tells you to shut the fuck up. You used to do fun projects together but now he just blows money on fish crap and makes the house a mess.. He was your guy, your favorite person, the guy that always showed up to save you and always helped you and always was gentle and took his time and always took you on an adventure but now he just lays there like a log and yells at you and is always mad and always drunk.

I can't imagine what that betrayal felt like. Watching everything go sideways and backwards and watching the person you finally gave your heart and trust to just mash it up with a hammer.

Well I do because it happened to me too but that's not my point. You loved me and would do anything for me and I made you so happy and I ruined it all. You watched me lose my sanity and become an evil zombie right before your eyes. You just wanted it to stop and you wanted your boy back but you didn't know what to do and he blamed it all on you and it all got ruined. What a fucking nightmare.

And I think of this sweet special girl. I remember you being really hard to put up with, really hard to figure out, hard to find the key too. But I just always felt that weird synchronicity, I felt like God damn she is so weird and complicated but I actually understand her exactly and know exactly what to do. I'm the guy for her and I'm glad I found her because I know bad people would do a really bad job at dealing with her. I remember this naive girl, her emotions were big, so when she gave her trust she gave all of it, or she would do anything to not lose a friend. So I saw people take advantage of it, I saw her get hurt and manipulated and put in bad situations. She was pure and honest and the people around her weren't. That's why she keeps getting in trouble. So I knew she had my trust, and would follow me, and thought I was smart and knew better so she would listen to me, and she never wanted to lose me so she would do whatever it takes. So I took that trust, like a delicate crystal, and I said I'm gonna make sure I always take care of her, if she listens to me then I'm gonna tell her the right thing, and I'm always gonna be careful and true and gentle and do life right by her.

And now I'm gone. First, I fucked all that up, and now I'm gone. And I gotta sit here and worry that she will be with someone that will abuse her and she will stay because she loves them and forgives them for it. I gotta think about her manipulative friend and wander what kinda bad situation she will get in. I gotta hope that maybe she meets someone nice that will protect her but I just can't imagine what kind of strange creature she would have to meet that would really understand her problems, and really appreciate the good and best things about her.

And I remember this really cool girl I fell in love with. She would go hunt for bones in the forest, or go drive around at night, go to burger king stoned at 3am, go hang out the anime festival, and she had her bedroom how she liked it. And I took that from her, and suppressed it, and made her boring, and made her life boring. And I remember a girl that loved her family and being around them so much and I took her away from them and wasted her time. I remember a girl that had big dreams and big desires and lots of hobbies and I took those all away and said no to everything either because I couldn't afford it or I was sick and an asshole.

I remember a girl that loved me so much and tried to give me her everything and I just yelled at her and hurt her. A girl that would've gone with me anywhere and I never took her anywhere. A girl that would've truly accepted me for who I am but instead I hid it from her and let it turn into evil inside of me. A girl that was so beautiful and so amazing and probably just the coolest ever but I never told her that because I was scared. A girl I thought the whole world of and lived my life for except I never showed her that and now I'm just another one of her bad memories.

I look at who I am and who I'm becoming, and my real self. Someone you never met and someone I totally forgot about, yet somehow, pretty much the guy you loved. Somehow you knew who he was underneath all this shit. I'm starting to remember him and find little pieces of him. It disgusts me. I think this is the thing I feel worse about. Worse than all the other things, because those things wouldn't have happened if I was that guy. There's really no good way to explain this to you, but I know it's true. You can't even get it I think. It would sound like a lie. But yeah. You fell in love with one of of good parts of me, and didn't care about my problems or how I looked. Definitely I'll probably never look like your dream guy. But in my heart? I can't describe this guy but any other way than this. He's you. He's your imaginary friend. He is so much like the real you, it's like it's two parts of the same soul. The real true me, that I hid away from the world, that all this bad shit happened to and twisted up. He is you. It matches your soul and everything I miss about you. He would've said yes to everything you ever asked him. He would've watched a Disney princess movie with you like he was your best friend and you were 7 years old on summer vacation. He would've laughed at everything you showed him. He would've made you so many bead bracelets your arm would fall off. It freaks me out. I've thought so long on who you really are, and who I really am, and this part of me that is so deep down that I didn't even know its there, and that deepest part. It's you man. It's fucking you. Its like someone you would dream up to be your best friend. And for me, I'm gonna explore that more and try to bring him out. But you'll never get to meet him. Its like Santa is real and left a Christmas present under the tree just for you and God tied a bow around it, and I snuck in the window and stole it and fucking threw it off a bridge and yelled at you instead.

Thank you by the way. Just wanna throw a thank you in there. Thought I knew myself so well and that I was gonna teach you how to fight life like me, and then kick it's ass together. Instead, life won, and you taught me so fucking much about myself it's ridiculous.

And then there's the worst thing of all.

I'm stupid and my problems were stupid. The situation we were stuck in didn't have an easy answer, but making it through it together was far from impossible. I doubted that you loved me and now that my eyes are clear I can look back now and see that you loved the fuck out of me. I thought you weren't trying and didn't care but I look back and see you trying your hardest and never giving up. I tested your love with my bullshit over and over again and you still stuck around and obviously loved me. You always picked me no matter what was happening. You never once talked about leaving me. I look back at the problems I had searched to solve for 20 years and they all had simple answers. Mostly. The journey was hard to get those answers but that was my own fucking fault. I basically could've stopped being a stupid bitch at any time and the answers would've shown themselves. I didn't understand what was going on in my head and all I had to do was tell you. I kept it all a big secret. I kept it a secret from then one person on earth that would've understood and then you would've understood what was happening and been able to help. I needed your help but refused to let you or ask you. I loved you more than anything but I refused to tell you because I thought you would use it against me. I thought you were so cool and I enjoyed everything about you so much but refused to tell you because your ego was too big.

Basically, this whole thing was complicated as fuck and hard as fuck to figure out but the solution was simple and right in front of me. It's my fault for making it hard and loud and complicated and it's my fault for being blind.

There was one simple solution and I don't even care that there was a million things that hid it from me and misled with me. I'm a dumbass.

All I had to do was trust you. Tell you the bad thoughts I felt. Told you the good things I thought about you and how much I loved you. And you woulda been like oh OK no problem. All I had to do was stop drinking and eat better and go to a few doctors. All I had to do was be truthful and honest for you. That's it. All I had to do was not choose anger. Even if you had a hard time understanding me, or believing me, or tried to drive me crazy, all I had to do was admit to myself, and admit to you, how much I really loved you. All I had to do was stop living in fear and try to protect myself and see that right in front of my eyes is exactly what I think it is but won't except, the girl of my dreams, the girl I want to be with. All I had to do was put you first l, and put us staying together first, and this would be a beautiful love story. The situation wouldn't have changed, but we would've made the best of it and been good to each other, and things eventually would've gotten better, and we would be all good now and still together.

But no. That's not what I did. I kept secrets. I chose anger every time I had the chance to. I denied my feelings. I denied you the truth. I denied you encouragement and kind words. I kept loving you a big secret because I thought you didn't love me back so I wasn't gonna love you openly. I hid my problems and secrets and good things and bad things from you. I let my fears be reality, I didn't let the truth be reality. I was scared about things, and decided they were real, and that you were doing them. And now I sit here without you, you're gone forever, I hurt and betrayed you, and I write long rambling books about you like a fucking freak, when we could literally just be happy and have a good time. I chose darkness and pain over love and happiness. I hurt you.

My victory in my personal journey is fucked. I resent it. For so long, long before I met you, I felt so wrong inside, my life was so wrong. I DONT take accountability for that like I take accountability for our problems. I take accountability for SOME of it. But, I was fucked, my life fucked me, my brain fucked me, my molesters fucked me, the bullies fucked me, my bosses fucked me, and I decided you were just another person here to fuck me. But I was right. There was something wrong with my body, and I fixed it. There was something wrong with my mind, my brain, my psychology, my lifestyle, my life, my perception. I spent 20 years trying to fix it, and I finally did. So now I know it's possible. I know if I chose to not be a dumbass mean ass stupid fucking bitch, I could've done everything we planned to do, that whole goal we set our for to have a better life and be better people. I fucking did it. A year after you left. Nah not while the love of my life and the best friend I ever had was literally 5 feet away from me. Nah Nah. That would make too much sense. No my stupid fuckint ass chose to be shitty and keep suffering and hurt the fuck out of her and myself and she left forever, THEN I fixed it. I always thought these weren't things that could change and fix and I fixed them, it only cost me everything, it only came at the consequence of hurting the fuck out of you and the losing you, it only came at the cost of abusing myself and letting my life go so bad that I went into extreme debt, destroyed my life, killed all my pets, ruined my future, and created a horrible irredeemable past. THEN I fixed it all. I walk into my nice clean cool little house smelling good looking good with money in my pocket, full of energy, ready to cook or play or go somewhere, just got home from my good ass consistent job that let's me do my own thing and pays a lot for it, just living in the freedom of having a brain that works and a mind that's not trying to make me kill myself and a body that doesn't feel like molasses. And I don't deserve it, and it cost too much, and I have blood on my hands, and I should've done it for you, and you should be sitting there with a big glowing smile happy to see me and say we can go to daiso and Williams chicken and I say yeah sure let's go! I am nothing, I have nothing, I am the worst person that has ever lived. I am Diogenes of Texas. I worked my whole life to fix my problems and I hurt everyone around me. I completed everything I sought to do for 20 years and I destroyed everything around me. I pushed every good thing out of my life and ruined ever good chance I had. I hurt the fuck out of people, I am a bad memory in everyone's head. That's why I'm Diogenes. I finally did what I set out to do and got it all, but truly I have nothing, I live in a barrel, I have a lantern to light my path at night, and a cat sometimes comes by to keep me company. I am a wretch, a villain, and victimizer, and an oathbreaker. It was all my fault and it was at the cost of the trauma of those around me. I don't deserve the things I have or achieved, and I deserve the hell that I've made for myself. We could've had a beautiful love story, a lifelong friendship, a big ass romantic redemption arc, and a cool ass life life lots of smiles and fun and a big garden and lots of cute pets and fun memories and adventures and cool stuff, but because of ME and ME ALONE and by no others fault but MINE, we had a painful, unfixable, disgusting stinky hurtful memory of failure and remorse. That is my sin.

#Youtube

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Little Moments: Part 1

Pairings: Chris Pratt x Reader

Warnings: Memory Loss, angst, mention character death

Word Count: 3,438

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life has moments- big or small, everyone has them. The small moments, like losing a baby tooth or riding a bike for the first time usually get lost in the jumble of bigger moments, like the time you broke your arm in the third grade or graduating high school. The thing about moments; however, is that in an instant, a seemingly small moment can alter the course of your life exponentially… and you never even see it coming.

This is one of those moments.

——

You had a migraine before you even opened your eyes, which was typical for you in the past two years since your internship ended. To this day, you couldn’t figure out if people were just getting more and more stupid or if you were just noticing it more because you worked as a resident in a hospital emergency room. Just the other day you had a patient come in with seven nails through his hand (with a board attached to the other side to boot) because he pissed off his girlfriend while they were rebuilding their house. You sighed to yourself and moved your hand to rub the sleep from your eyes but something was holding you back.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” Your brow furrowed, causing your head to throb as you forced your eyes open. You couldn’t help but cringe against the blinding white lights that didn’t belong in your bedroom. With a groan, you rolled your head to find the voice that also wasn’t supposed to be in your bedroom and smarted the slightest bit to see a vaguely familiar man… in a hospital room?

“I’m up.” You said as you tried to sit yourself up, wondering how you managed to let yourself fall asleep in a patient’s room.

“Whoa! No, sweetheart. You gotta stay in bed for now.” Your stomach turned violently and the whole room spun, so you let yourself lay back on the bed for a moment longer as you nodded at the man who you assumed had to be the new chief of emergency medicine.

“Sorry, chief. It’s just been a long week.” You missed the confused look that crossed the man’s face as you reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You took a deep breath as your boss shook his head slowly.

“(Y/N)…” He tried as your co-worker, Abby called out your name.

“Thank God!” She said as she came into the room with tears in her eyes. “I was getting worried.”

“Um… OK?” You said as you glanced over at her. You studied her tear filled eyes for a moment as she leaned her hip against the bed you were napping in. “What’s wrong with you.” You watched her glance over at the chief, whose name you couldn’t remember for the life of you, before she looked back at you with a trembling bottom lip.

“Sweetheart… you were in an accident.” Your brow furrowed as you sat up and reached out for the tablet in her hands to see your chart.

“What happened?” You demanded as she tried to move the chart out of your reach. You growled, grabbed her arm and yanked her back over to your side. “Abs…”

“A drunk driver ran a red on your way home.” The chief said as he got up from his chair and sat down on your bed. Your face flushed and your fingers froze on the touch screen as you looked between him and your best friend.

“Wait… did I get drunk and go home with the new chief last night?” You whispered loudly as you glared at Abby. Her brow furrowed as the chief picked up your hand.

“Sweetheart… I’m not the chief.” The man said softly. “It’s Chris… I’m your husband.” Your head whipped toward him and the heart rate monitor started beeping rapidly as you gasped to catch your breath. You shook your head and yanked your hand back to look at your chart.

“No… that’s not right.” You gasped as you flipped to the personal information page. Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at the foreign name across the top- (Y/N) Pratt, M.D. “No… no, no, no.”

“Honey, it’s OK. Memory loss is common…”

“What year is it?” You asked as you flipped through your chart frantically, not really seeing any of the information there. “Year!”

“2017.” Abby said softly. “It’s 2017.” You burst into full blown sobs and shook your head.

“No… no it can’t be. It’s 2010…” You covered your face and finally felt the bandages wrapped around your head. Your sobs wracked your body harder as you curled into yourself on the bed. “This isn’t happening…”

“I’m gunna go get doctor Masters.” Abby said softly as Chris gently rubbed your leg with tears falling silently down his cheeks.

“It’s gunna be OK, baby.” He said gently yet unbelievingly. “It’s all gunna be OK.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Retrograde amnesia.” Doctor Stephen Masters said as he stood at the end of your bed with his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s common with a TBI. You had a lot of swelling and bleeding in the temporal and occipital lobes but we managed to get it all under control with surgery…”

“OK… when can I be cleared to go back to work?” You interrupted, choosing not to care about what happened to you. Chris sighed beside you as he continued to rub his temples and Stephen slowly shook his head.

“(Y/N), you haven’t worked here for three years.” Your brow furrowed and you shook your head.

“No, that’s not right. Why would I…”

“You wanted to travel.” Chris sighed as he rested his arms on his thighs. He kept his green eyes on his folded hands as he shook his head. “After we got married, you wanted to travel with me when I filmed so you could see the world…”

“Why the hell would I give up my job to travel?” You asked as you looked over at him. “I was happy…”

“You… ugh.” He sighed as he sat up and scrubbed his hands down his face. “You wanted a family and didn’t want to be an absent mom…”

“That’s bullshit.” You grumbled as you absentmindedly rubbed your hand lightly across the fabric of the black and blue flower patterned scrub cap you had borrowed from Abby and wrapped around your now bald head.

“He’s telling the truth.” Stephen said carefully as he leaned his forearms on your bedside table. You shook your head and let your hand fall into your lap with the other.

“OK, well that’s not what I want anymore. I wanna go back to work…”

“(Y/N)…” Chris tried as your boss… your former boss held up his hand toward your ‘husband’.

“One way or another, I can’t clear you to go back to work for a couple months.” He said as he stood up straight again. “My suggestion to you, for now is to go back home. You know as well as I do that submersing yourself in a familiar environment is the best way to bring back your memories.” You nodded at him as you fiddled with the edge of the blanket across your lap.

“Alright… well fuck, I guess I’m not in my apartment anymore?” You asked as you glanced over at Chris. He shook his head and glanced over at you.

“We live in the Hills.” You sighed loudly and nodded your head.

“Alright, well let’s get me the hell out of here, please. The faster I remember this shit, the faster I can get back to work.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Any of this look familiar?” Chris asked carefully as he lead you into your massive house late that evening. You shook your head as you paused in the off white entry way to look at the photos on the wall. You obviously recognized yourself, though you looked a little older than you remembered but the man beside you was still unfamiliar.

“This was from right before our first red carpet together.” He told you as he pointed to the first photo. “You didn’t normally go with me back then because you were so busy with work but this was the first movie I did where I had a lead role. It’s called Guardians of the Galaxy.” You nodded slowly as you studied the professionally done picture as if it were going to unlock the recesses of your mind. You looked stunning in a floor length, green, chiffon gown that did match Cris’ eyes and his tie. “You changed four different times before landing on this dress because it matched my eyes and made yours pop.” You pursed your lips and nodded because it really did make your (Y/E/C) eyes pop. He took a step back and pointed to the next photograph with a small sigh. You looked at the obvious portrait he took, holding out the camera as far as his arms would allow as you were showed off an engagement ring with a giant smile on your face. Chris was kissing your neck with a giant smile on his own face and you both looked so incredibly happy.

“This was in Kauai, where I shot Jurassic World. I had a day off filming and we spent the day at the beach. I…” You glanced over at him as his words caught in his throat and tears welled in his eyes. “We, um… we got engaged that day. And six months later, we got married in Vegas because we didn’t want the paparazzi to ruin our day.” He pointed at the last photo; a picture of him holding you bridal style. You had on a short, mid-thigh length white dress, white heels and a bird cage veil that covered the left half of your face and Chris was decked out in a black suit. You had his face cupped in your left hand and neither of you were looking at the camera.

“Our room’s this way.” He nearly whispered as he hiked your hospital bag up on his shoulder and turned away without looking at you. You gave the three photos one more glance before following after him on the hard wood floors through a white living room. You glanced out the French doors along the back wall at the large pool with a gorgeous grotto and waterfall in the middle as Chris cleared his throat.

“This is us.” You nodded slowly as you paused in the doorway of your bedroom. Your head tilted to the side slightly as you studied the four poster bed. It was a dark, black wood and had a silk, gauze fabric draped decoratively around the top and down the four corners.

“Did I pick out this bed?” Chris whipped around and dropped your bag on the beige carpeted floor.

“Do you remember?” You shook your head and stepped into the room.

“No… well… sort of. I remember seeing this in a home and garden magazine a few months… well… a few years ago, I guess. It just wouldn’t have looked good in my apartment.” You could see the sheer disappointment on his face as he nodded and looked at the bed to conceal his pain.

“Yea, it wouldn't have. So I’m gunna sleep on the couch, you can take…”

“No, I can take the couch, it’s fine.” You offered as you took a step back. Chris shook his head and gestured out into the living room.

“The couch makes your back hurt when you sleep on it. I don’t mind it.” You nodded as he showed you where your dresser, the bathroom and your bathroom products were before turning to head out of the room. He paused at the doorway, giving you a small glance over his shoulder as his mouth floundered with unspoken words. After a moment, he shook his head and pulled the door closed behind him. Tears finally welled in your eyes as you looked around the unfamiliar master bedroom and pulled off your scrub cap. Without a word, you crawled into bed on what you hoped was your side and cried yourself into a restless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t sleep for long at all. By three AM, you were wide awake, staring up at the black painted ceiling and the thousands of stars that appeared to twinkle in the moon light that poured in through the window. You had always been fascinated by astronomy so you knew you had to have been the one behind the design you hadn’t noticed when you first came into the bedroom. After forty-five minutes of simply laying there and gently tracing the outline of the bandage that ran along the entire left side of your skull, you forced yourself out of bed.

You were grateful to yourself that you had kept your scrubs in a box in the back of your closet because none of the outfits that hung in the closet felt like ‘you’ at the moment. From fancy dresses and tops to flowy skirts and leggings to gym clothes that you knew you had had since med school; all you wanted was to feel comfortable and ‘normal’ again and none of that fit the bar. You pulled out the cleanest pair of scrub pants from the box, and snagged a UCLA muscle shirt before finding your broken cell phone from your hospital bag and Abby’s scrub cap off the bedside table and sneaking out of your bedroom.

You found yourself on the top rock of the grotto, staring at the city light dimmed night sky. Just like you always had, you instantly missed your home town. You came from a town so small you could throw a rock from end to end in the middle of the country but the starry night sky was indescribable. When you first moved to California for school, you realized that was one thing you took for granted. You pulled your phone from the pocket of your scrubs and went to try and call the only family member you had, your older brother, Paul, but realized that you couldn’t unlock your phone.

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at the unfamiliar photo that was your lock screen background. Chris was dressed in a red, leather trench coat and pointing a toy gun at you with a playfully menacing look on his face. You towered over him on stilts, holding on to his shoulder for balance as you gripped your stomach from laughing too hard. You couldn’t help but wonder how you managed to forget seven years of your life. Not only was it such an odd number but you had never seen a traumatic brain injury make you lose years. Typically it was only a few days, weeks, or months lost or everything. Never something so obscure as seven years. But injuries were never by the book so why should this be any different.

“(Y/N)?” You glanced over as Chris stuck his head out the back door and looked around the poorly lit back yard. You gave him a weak, unseen smile and wiped the tears off your face.

“Here.” You said weakly as you sat up on the rocks. He nodded and stepped outside.

“Figured as much. I can usually find you out here when you can’t sleep. Can I come up?” You nodded at him as he hesitated at the bottom of the stone steps that were built in to the stone structure.

“I was gunna call Paul.” You said softly as you showed him the phone that was temporarily useless to you. “But I can’t unlock this.” You heard him sigh as he sat down beside you and gently took the phone from your hand.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. But… um… well, Paul… his cancer came back.” Your breath caught in your throat audibly as your husband hit the home screen button. “He fought for so long but we lost him on August 12, 2012.” You nodded at him as he put in the numbers 081212 and handed you the unlocked phone. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Tears fell from your eyes as you turned off the screen and unlocked it once more.

“Did he suffer?” You whispered as a few tears landed on the screen. Chris shook his head as he pulled his knees up to his chest and draped his arms over them.

“You made sure he didn’t. You and Abby made sure that his pain was medicated away and he spent his last moments in our back yard with you, watching a meteor shower.” You burst into body wracking sobs and covered your face in your hands. Very carefully, Chris reached out and  rubbed your back. “That’s the star map on the ceiling of our room. You painted it by hand all by yourself to cope.” He turned away from you as tears welled in his eyes and he took a deep, steadying breath.

“That’s part of the reason you wanted to travel with me but you didn’t talk about it. You finished your residency in the fall of 2013 and a year later, you went on the road with me. We wanted to start a family and you told everyone that was your reason for leaving but I knew it was because of Paul. So did Abby.”

“I’m still friends with her, right?” He finally looked over at your tear stained face, nodded and huffed a laugh.

“Oh, yea. You two are nearly inseparable when we’re in town. She still lives in your old apartment… but I’ll let you two catch up…”

“Did she marry that Jeff guy?” Chris nodded as he took his hand off your back and draped it back over his knee.

“Yea. Two years ago. And yes, you were the maid of honor. No kids yet.” You nodded some more as you adjusted the cap on your head.

“So what do I do now?” You glanced over at him as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well when we’re in town you go for a walk with me in the mornings through Runyon Canyon park. Then you usually catch up on your shows; Grey’s Anatomy, House, Chicago Med… You like to correct the shows on their medical inaccuracy by yelling at our TV.”

“Yea that sounds like me.” You giggled. He huffed a laugh and nodded.

“You edit your photos as well. That’s what you do when you travel with me. I go to work, you sightsee around the city and take pictures. You made an Instagram…”

“What’s Instagram?” He glanced over at you and you could see him frantically fighting back his tears.

“It’s um… well it’s an app that you can share pictures on. Kinda like a combination of Facebook and Twitter but for photos.” You nodded at him and made a mental reminder to look that up to see if it brought back memories.

“OK. What else?”

“Well, you go to lunch with Abby when she has a day off. You two go shopping a lot. But when we’re in LA, we spend a lot of time at home. It’s our days off so we usually just spend time together, go to the beach if it’s nice out. You’ve dragged me to Disneyland more times than I can count.” You giggled and looked up at the stars.

“That sounds like me, too.” He nodded in agreement as he looked up at the night sky with you.

“We’ll get your memory back, sweetheart.” He said softly after a few minutes of silence. “We’ll figure this out together, no matter what.” You glanced over at the man that was basically a stranger to you as tears fell down his cheeks. “I’ll get my wife back.” You reached out slowly and rubbed your hand on his back, startling him. He met your eyes and you nodded reassuringly as the ER doctor in you surfaced.

“I’m sure we will. I’m sorry this is happening to you.” He shook his head and wiped the tears off his face as he stood up.

“It’s not happening to me, (Y/N). It’s happening to you.” He turned around to head back down the steps but avoided eye contact. “I’m gunna go make some coffee and jump in the shower. I’ll pull up Netflix, too. Give you something to do until your appointment later today since hiking is out for a while.” You nodded at him and curled into yourself on the rock as he headed around the pool to go back inside. As you watched him pull the door closed behind him, you burst into tears again.

Part 2

#Chris Pratt x Reader #Little Moments

[boom-boom-boyx2]

Bakugous Bar•

Bakugou finally graduates from college w/ as an Official Chef. This is amazing! He can move back home and get his own apartment and work at a nice restaurant and get money.....was what everyone thought was going to happen.

He moved back home, and everything was going great! He got a nice job and worked hard- only issue, he doesn’t work well with others. You see Bakugou has always been very independent but when he cooks he becomes more calm- when people around him aren’t stupid. He ‘Quidts’ after his 2nd week bc he can’t do his ‘own’ thing.

He decides that he is gonna own his own business. He looks around for old places restaurants that got shut down and cheap apartments.

He finally finds a building! “It looks abandoned and I barely even call it a building...” his mother said as she stretched. “Hey! Look, it’s beaten up but the contracted said it was only 2,000 bucks so all I gott do now is clean it out, re-vamp it a little, and BOOM! I got my own apartment, And- bar!” He stated with a huge smirk on his face. His mother look at him with uncertainty, “Katsuki....are you sure you got this? You’re gonna need help, like- a lot of help..Me and your father will help! We just have jobs and can’t devote all are times to this for how ever long this will take.” She sighs loudly.

“I got this.” He says with....strength, if that’s what you wanna call it. “Mom. I’m going to fix this up and it’s gonna be mine.” Bakugou stares at the run down place as if it’s gold. His mom looks worried, “sweaty- when does school get out?”

“Uh- idk, Tape-fuck & Shitty-hair said they where coming back to Shizuoka after school so I’ll have to ask them... why?”

“Ah! That’s good!” She smiles, “they can come and help you! Maybe- you capfuls even pay them back by giving them a job” she looks at him with a side smirk. “Mom.” She pauses, he never calls her by that name... “I love you. Thank you for supporting me and helping me fix my life up a little bit..” she smiles a soft and caring smile. “I will be here through this entire rollercoaster, I know what you struggle with because I strongly with it. I will be here and I will stay with you.” Bakugou hugs her and cries, but only a little, when they finish the hug they go down the road to meet the other owners around them.

They meet this nice family that owns a new café down the street. “Hi! We aren’t open, but we open sometime in a few months!” The lady standing at the front of the door says with a smile. “Ah, no- my son just bought the place down the road! We just wanted to introduce our selves! My names is Mitsuki Bakugou, and tbis is my son Katsuki Bakugou.” She said with a bright smile. “Oh my! I’m so sorry!! Sweety, why don’t you come over here and meet the people that bought the place down the street!!” She yells to the back of their shop. “Yeah yeah- I’m coming mom! *frog noises* hi! My name *frog noises* is Tsuyu but please just call me Tsu!” She smiles and goes to shake Bakugous hand, “uh- hey, my names Bakugou..” she shakes her hand with the look of ‘I’m questioning my sanity’ written all over his face. “So...what are you planing on turning that old place into? It’s kinda been sitting there for a while.” Her mother says as she try’s to start convosation. “I’m turning it to a nice bar, it’s kinda big & has 2 story’s so I’m gonna have a place for food by the bar and have a stage up stairs for comedy & music.” Bakugou gets jittery thinking about it. “Well, what about you guys?”, she grabs one of the pamphlets from the desk, “a café?”. Tsu speaks, “A forest Café! We actually bought this place because of the weird forest around the back, we already have this od tree in the middle of the shop so..” she points at the tree in the middle of the so to be Café. Mitsuki replies, “Well then, when they get drunk at the bar they can come here to sober up a bit” the girls laugh and Bakugou and his mom start to leave after a bit of chatting.

In the car on the way home.

“They where nice!” His mom breaks the silince. “Yeah...uh hey- mom?”

“Yes?”

“Uhm...it has 3 stories, which means I can have a story for my room. Like my own apartment and-”

Mitsuki interrupts her son with a loud sigh, “Katsuki, if u wanna live there, I’m fine with that.. but, you have to be safe... And please remember that’s its a Bar and your house.”

Katsuki releavingly exhaled, “I know.”

“I was hoping that u got somewhere close bc you know it is a 30 minute drive from our house” they both crack a little laugh to the lightened mood.

Bakugou gets home and calls his ‘friends’, he hated referring to them as friends but, that was what they where, there was no way going past it.

•The call•

-“Bro! You actually called first I something wrong?”

-“no.” Bakugou sighs at the red heads remark

-“look- dude, are you sure you okay? You like nEVER call first?”

-“SEE IM WAS RIGHT! Wait- did someone die!?” The red-head fell of his bed.

-“Ouch- kirishima, dude You okay? That sounded like it hurt..”

-“I’m fine!”

-“Bakugou! You need to speak up me and Kiri are the only ones talking right now.”

-“ yeah, yeah- no ones dead, for g0ds sake- I just wanted to ask if u dumbasses where still coming back after you graduated. I’ve got some work I wanted to put you up to..”

-“Hell Yeah!! What we doing?”

-“Yeah bro!! Wait- Sero is he gonna ask to help him kill someone..”

-“I’m honestly down for what ever” the black haired boy grabbed his phone and brought it to his kitchen

-“no. Where not killing any one”, he rolled his eyes, “look, I bought this run down place- I’m re-vamping it to a bar and it’s three stories so I’m sleeping on the 3rd floor, 2nd floor is going to have a little stage for comic’s and singers 1st floor Is food and drinks.”

Both boys looked at Bakugou with surprised faces.

-“Bakugou....You look, exited for once..” Sero

-“Dude- we are sO helping you with this! You like Actually look happy and not like you wanna kill someone” kirishima

-“okay- we’ll hurry up and finish school so you can get your ass’s down here.” Bakugou stated before leaving the call

-“Sero, we have to help him with this... He sounded so ready”

-“I’m with you, we Have to help him, okay- dude I have to finish my homework I gotta go”

-“aight! See ya bro!!”

-both left call-

Bakugou’s pov:

I’ve been sweeping and cleaning the building out and helping the Tsuyu family with their cafe as well... I have been looking for parts and furniture for the Bar... And I know the perfect name.

Bakugous Bar

Its gonna be a fun chill place where you can meet your friends....where you go to cry and find your friends and people to help you...

A place you never feel Alone.

All I need to do now is wait for the guys to get here and to find other workers. That should be easy once they get here, their both good with people..unlike me.

[yandereshit]

Saeran Choi: Memorized.

Number of words: 5,032 kill me please Saeran Choi x Reader Enjoy or at least try to   

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     “Hey, are you feeling hot? The temperature is hot! Wait a moment, there’s an ice cream truck over there, I will bring us some!”

     “Whatever you wish, princess.”

     The girl beamed happily, untangling her hand from his fingers. In a blink of an eye, she was already running in the truck’s direction.

     He suddenly heard tires’ squeal and his head instantly turned towards the racing car. The girl froze in her spot.

     The instinct was faster than his thoughts. 

     His only purpose was to push her out of the road. Everything happened so quickly that he didn’t even manage to acknowledge his own action.

     The whole scene lasted a mere few seconds.

     And then everything went black.

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     “[Name]... [Name]. Calm down, [Name].” Saeyoung grabbed your wrist and turned you towards him. His hands were on your cheeks now, making you look at him. Your face was covered with tears and you couldn’t even breathe properly at this point.

     “Saeyoung, it’s... This... is my fault... T-this is my fucking fault, h-he’s... W-what if he...”

     “Please, calm down, [Name].” You tried to move away from him, but he held you in place, his eyes staring deep into yours. He was as terrified as you now, but you panicking was pretty much enough for the two of you and so he forced himself to stay as calm as possible. “[Name], breathe.”

     He kept repeating your name over and over unless you finally gave up. The tears started streaming down your cheeks and you sobbed helplessly, finding little comfort in the boy’s embrace.

     Your heart was clenching in your chest and you felt as if the whole world just collapsed onto you. Your mind was filled with dark thoughts and never in your life had you felt you so scared.

     The door of the operating room suddenly opened and your head instantly turned towards the doctor that went out. He was clearly tired and his coat was stained with blood. The view made you feel sick.

     He went closer to you two, taking off his gloves and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

     “Are you his family...?”

     “I’m his brother” Saeyoung stated right away. You couldn’t help but peeked towards the operating room, but the door automatically closed and you couldn’t see anything.

     “He’s lost a lot of blood, but it wasn’t critical... His ribs are broken and there was a danger they’d pierce his lungs, but fortunately it didn’t happen. His head though... He has a TBI, we’re not sure how serious it is yet, so...” He sighed softly, looking at you. He smiled weakly, probably trying to comfort you. “His life is not in danger right now, but he’s still uncounscious. We moved him to another ward and he’s under constant watch, but for for the next few days we can’t let any guests in, he needs to rest...”

     “We’re his family” Saeyoung suddenly stated. “I understand we can’t see him now, but tomorrow...”

     The doctor sighed. 

     “Only a few minutes for the closest family, but that’s all I can offer.”

     “But her...” 

     “Only the closest family. Excuse me now.” He bowed politely and left, not saying anything else.

     For the next few minutes, there was that painful silence. You couldn’t blame Saeyoung for being able to see his brother, but there was nothing more painful right now than the fact you couldn’t see him as well. Even if he probably wouldn’t be able to talk, to see you...

     It hurt.

     And the guilt hurt even more. 

     Yet you couldn’t do anything but wait.

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     The first day, you’ve spent trying to calm down and distract yourself. Saeyoung would never leave your side, offering everything you’d need. It helped you feel better, but at the same time... you felt bad because you were the cause of all that and yet he was comforting you. You - the person who was responsible for his beloved brother’s injury. It felt just so wrong.

      The second day, Saeyoung went to the hospital. You insisted on going with him and at least waiting in front of the building till he finished the visit, but he told you it’ll be better if you stay at home and take a nap till he comes back and tells you how is Saeran doing.

     Later, you heard that he hadn’t regained his counsciousness yet and Saeyoung could only stay for a few minutes, so he didn’t find out much. He didn’t say anything more.

     The third day was worse than the previous. You didn’t go out of bed for hours and even refused to eat. You knew that Saeran should wake up soon and that with every passing day the chance of him actually waking up is lower. The doctors told you to just wait. But what if there was no point in waiting anymore...?

     The fourth day, Saeyoung went to the hospital again. This time, he let you join him and you waited patiently in the main hall. You were still nervous.

     But the eleventh day, everything inside you broke again.

     The doctors explained that there was something unclear with the results and, just in case, they decided to put him into an induced coma, so that he won’t wake up untill they find out what’s going on.

     But it was already ten days and your hope was already slipping away. For Saeyoung it wasn’t any easier. Yet he was strong, trying to carry on doing his work and taking care of you. You were the weak one, the one who couldn’t put everything together and who was a wrecked mess. A wrecked mess slowly slipping into depression.

     For the time being, no one let you even enter the room. For a few days, even Saeyoung was forbidden from doing so. Only after the doctors made sure the results are fine, he could have his few minutes.

     “Saeran, hi...” he said awkwardly, as every single time before. His voice was quiet, as if he was actually afraid of waking the boy up. He still hadn’t woken up. “It’s been... a long time since we’ve seen and...” He sighed deeply. “You can’t imagine how much we miss you... It’s hard for me, but [Name]... she’s... uh, it’s too much for her. So please, Saeran...” His eyes watered and he covered his face with his hands. “Please, wake up...”

     And right then, something changed. A slight motion, but he could sense it. He raised his head in an instant, watching and praying so that was not an illusion.

     A few minutes passed and the next movement - he was sure now - happened for real. His fingers really moved.

     “Saeran...?” he said quietly and his brother’s face twitched. 

     He ran to the door and told a nurse what just happened, then came back to the bed. 

     “Can you hear me...?” he asked, touching gently the boy’s shoulder. 

     He moved. He really did!

     The nurse stormed into the room with a doctor right behind her.

     “Are you his brother?” the doctor asked and Saeyoung nodded. “Good. We will need you to help him, but since he’s waking up now, he needs a few hours to recover. Please, come back tomorrow.”

     “O-okay. But...” he hesitated a bit. “Can I bring someone with me? It’s his girlfriend, I think she could help...”

     “Sure, why not.”

     As soon as Saeyoung told you the news, you started crying. So many tears have you let out the past two weeks, but those weren’t the bad ones. You felt a blissful relief and - at the same time - couldn’t believe it was true. You almost sunk too deep for anyone to reach you, but it was like a sun ray in a dark cave. It was enough to help you find a way out.

     All you wanted to do was to go straight away and see it with your own eyes, but as far as you’ve already gone, you agreed to wait. 

     That night you couldn’t sleep, nervousness eating you from inside, excitement even stronger at this point.

     And finally, the morning came. 

     You calmed down your breath, trying to look stable. Saeyoung placed his hand on your shoulder, smiling calmly. The doctor just talked to you, telling you how to behave. And that they still aren’t sure how much the damage did to his psyche - and so, you should be careful and understanding so that he doesn’t feel any pressure.

     “Ready?” Saeyoung smiled at you. You wanted to smile back, but right now you still felt like a mess.

     The door opened and you two went inside.

     The creaking of the door made the boy laying on the bed stir slightly. He was staring at the window when you entered, but now he looked at you, frowning slightly. 

     He was pale, his head still in some bandages. An IV was connected to his arm, just like some other beeping devices you’ve seen in TV a few times.

     He looked at you, then at his brother.

     Saeyoung smiled softly.

     “How are you feeling...?”

     The boy opened his mouth, but for a few seconds he couldn’t let out a single word, his throat dry and the voice - hoarse.

     “Sae... young...” he mumbled and the frown deepened. You felt your heart clench at his pained expression, but what happened next, was way worse. 

     You felt the redhead’s hand tighten on your shoulder.

     “Who... is she...?”

     Saeyoung’s eyes widened.

     Was there any good way to describe how you felt? 

     Doubtfully. For some reason, the sudden pain in your stomach was way worse than the one you felt when you weren’t sure if Saeran will even live.

     It was awful. You instantly found yourself wanting to vomit, or to run away, as far as possible.

     What could you do...? 

     You’ve suddenly felt so lost. As if you shouldn’t be here. 

     Saeyoung was here, he could help his brother, but you... There was no place for you. You were a stranger now.

     All those thoughts stormed through your head in a mere few seconds.

     You gulped down your pain.

     “I... I will wait outside” you stuttered and stormed out.

     ˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

     “[Name]?”

     You raised your eyes. In the mirror, you could see Saeyoung’s reflexion. He was standing behind your still trembling form right after you splashed cold water onto your face.

     “I think you shouldn’t go into ladies’ room” you laughed, but there was nothing funny in your expression.

     “How are you...” Saeyoung started, but he quickly hesitated, realizing that the question is stupid anyway. It was obvious that you felt terrible.

     You sighed softly, lowering your head and staring at the sink.

     “How is... he feeling?” you asked instead, trying to at least control your voice.

     “He’s... good. As good as it’s possible in his state...”

     You nodded slowly.

     “You... will have to take care of him now.” Your voice was quiet and weak.

     Saeyoung grabbed your shoulder, making you turn around and look at him.

     “We will have to.”

     “I don’t think he’d want a stranger to help him...”

     “You’re not a stranger. It’s...” The boy sighed and shook his head. “The doctor said he needs some time, and his memory... The last thing he remembers is when we were young. He’s lost a few years of memories. But...”

     “But...?”

     “...” He hesitated. “He doesn’t remember Mint Eye, nor Rika and V. As long as he doesn’t remember that everything, there’s a chance that... recalling anything related should easily trigger the rest of his memories. So the chance that he will recover is really high...”

     “...and even bigger if I’m by his side. But if he regains that everything, he will...” You shook your head. “He won’t be as happy as he could be if it all never happened” you realized.

     “[Name]...”

     “Maybe it’s better this way...?”

     “You know it’s not true...”

     “I know what you two went through, but the worst started when you had to leave him... Now you can live as if it never happened, don’t you want it...?”

     “If only I could, I would change the past. But the past hasn’t changed. Those things happened and we can’t pretend they did not. Making Saeran believe it would be only a comfortable lie. And if he could choose, I’m sure he’d never want to forget you.”

     You looked down, feeling ashamed now. There was truth in Saeyoung’s words and yet, wanting to get Saeran’s memory back sounded like a pointless hope. It was good enough that he lived, how could you expect anything more...?

     “[Name]. Let’s go back home now, okay?”

     You nodded without a word. The boy gently took your hand and leaded out of the hospital. There was nothing more you could do today.

     ˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙ 

     “Ready?”

     Saeyoung smiled, patting your back. 

     A few days passed and here you were, back in the hospital. You felt almost like the first day when you could come, except for this time, you were less scared, only kind of more nervous, because you didn’t want to accidentally say anything inappropriate.

     You were told that you ought to be patient. You knew that any sudden news wouldn’t help a person with amnesia. 

     “No, but let’s go” you sighed.

     You were slowly becoming accustomed to the fact that there was still a long way to go. It wasn’t going to be funny. It probably was going to be even worse than after the whole Mint Eye case and if Saeran somehow regained only a part of his memories, there was a possibility that they’d have to go through the whole rehab from the beginning.

     Yet there you were. Ready to do literally anything to help him.

     Saeyoung looked at you once more, then nodded and opened the door.

     “Hello, brother~” he beamed. Saeran - as before - kept staring at the window. When you two entered, he turned his head right away, looking at him. You gulped, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

     “Hi...” He moved his gaze to have a better look on your silhoulette.. “Oh, it’s... you.”

     You raised your head, looking back at him. You knew the face he made, he was a bit confused, but curious. It seemed to be a good moment to at least start a talk...

     “[Name]” you said quietly. “I’m [Name].” You smiled softly. 

     Saeran nodded slowly, but the name sounded unfamiliar to him. 

     “I guess I should remember you...” he said slowly. “The doctors said I’ve lost a bit of... my past... You came here with my brother, so... w-were we close...?”

     Your heart clenched in your chest. The gentle smile he made was as uncomfortable and artificial as your own. Was it possible for you two to feel the same at this moment?

     “A-a bit...” you stuttered. Saeyoung laid his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner.

     “She’s our friend” he stated happily.

     “We... do have friends...?”

     “Yeah, a few” Saeyoung shrugged. “A lot happened. You’ll find out soon.”

     An idea suddenly popped in your head.

     “Hey, how about I bring some ice cream?” you offered, smiling as cheerfully as you could. “It’s hot here, wait a few minutes, I will be right back!” You almost managed to ran to the door, when...

     “NO!”

     You stopped instantly and turned around. 

     Saeran’s hand was in the air, reaching to you. His face suddenly covered in sweat.

     “W-what, why not...?” You frowned.

     “You... can’t go.”

     “But why...?”

     “It’s dangerous, you will...” He hesitated and let his hand drop onto his lap. You could tell, he was scared and yet, he didn’t know why. “I’m... sorry, I... don’t know, what happened...”

     But you already knew. Something clicked. His couldn’t recall it yet, but he knew that there was something.

     “Okay.” You smiled softly and came closer. “I will stay.”

     He nodded, calming down a bit. Saeyoung observed you two in silence for a moment.

     “I will go then” he grinned. “You’re right, it’s really hot!”

     You stared at him in shock as he just left, not waiting for anyone’s approval.

     That’s how you two were left alone.

     You stirred uncomfortably and sat down on a chair next to the bed. For a moment, you avoided his stare, but eventually gave up as he spoke.

     “You know why I reacted like this, don’t you?”

     Clever boy, you huffed. It was kind of embarrassing to tell him right now, but it couldn’t be helped.

     “You could say that... I’m the reason it happened to you” you admitted, feeling your stomach turn from the words spoken. Your nervousness kicked in, once again drowning you in guilt.

     “Is that... so?” He tilted his head to the side. “I can’t believe that. Tell me what happened, please.”

     Well, you never knew Saeran is able to say ‘please’ without either stuttering and blushing or looking like a mad psychopath. He looked surprisingly stable right now.

     “It’s... We were on a walk and it was pretty hot... so I told you that I’d go get some ice cream since... you always liked ice cream” you smirked, recalling the moment. “B-but... I wasn’t too wary and a car would hit me...” you looked up at him “...if it wasn’t you who pushed me away.”

     Saeran stared at you and you could swear that it lasted forever. As soon as the words were said, you instantly calmed down. He knew. Whatever was to happen now, you finally let it out.

     “I’m sorry” He said suddenly and your eyes widened. Was he sorry for...? “I’m sorry that I don’t remember you. You’re important to me, right? I feel so stupid now...”

     The door opened and a nurse stepped in.

     “I’m sorry, but the visits are over for today. We need to take care of the patient. Please, come back tomorrow.”

     You nodded and stood up.

     “Good bye, Saeran...” you said and left. You could still feel his eyes on your back, until the door closed behind you.

     ˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

     “Are you sure he’s fine now?”

     “Well, we can’t help him anymore” the doctor stated, smiling slightly. “His family is the only one who can help him recover. He still has to take the medicine, so don’t forget to make sure he does... For some reason, he’s really unwilling to take anything, we almost had to force him to take it... Well, anyway, he will need to be examined once a while so let us know if anything peculiar happens. He still may have some headaches and will need to rest a lot, bu if he happens to faint, make sure to put him to bed. And if it happens more often, bring him back here. Okay?”

     Saeyoung listened, trying to memorize every single remark. He almost couldn’t believe it was over five weeks now. Saeran’s ribs were almost completely healed by now, but his brain was, after all, damaged. The memory wouldn’t come back, it only striked once a while, just like when he didn’t want to take the medicine, even if he wasn’t exactly sure, why.

     He walked back into the room and spotted no one but you helping Saeran change.

     “Is that really mine...?” The boy asked doubtfully, staring at his leather jacket.

     You smirked, a bit amused by his frown.

     “I guess you didn’t like it, but you don’t have anything else and it’s already getting cold outside, so you have no choice.”

     “It doesn’t even match my hair...”

     “It would if you dyed it back to white.”

     “...I had white hair?”

     “Didn’t you notice? I cut them a few days ago as it were too long. Didn’t you see it was white?”

     “Didn’t watch.”

     “Guessed so...”

     “W-wait, w-what is it?” he stuttered, looking at the other thing in your hand. 

     You raised the thing, staring at it for a while.

     “It must have been tangled with the jacket. I figured you wouldn’t want to wear it now, I brought it by accident.”

     “It’s a fucking collar!”

     “Well, you used to wear it before.”

     “Am I a dog or something...?”

     “Wouldn’t complain if you were.”

     “N-nasty” he muttered, looking away.

     You stared at him for a moment.

     “Are you sure you don’t want to put it on? It could... remind you of something...”

     “I don’t want to.”

     “Okay. I will wear it then.”

     “W-what...”

     You smirked playfully, wrapping the choker around your neck and connecting the ends. It was a bit loose, falling almost to your collarbones, as the previous owner was obviously better built at this point.

     Saeran stared at you, his cheeks tainting light pink as you smiled widely.

     “Does it suit me?”

     “...Take it off.”

     You pouted and did as said, throwing the choker into your bag so that it wouldn’t get lost.

     “I think it looked meowous on you, [Name]” Saeyoung said, patting your back.

     “Meow your own business, Saeyoung” you mumbled, a bit embarrassed now.

     “Ya ready, brother~?”

     Saeran nodded.

     “Let’s go.”

     Saeyoung’s place was - for Saeran - something completely unfamiliar. No memories appeared when you three entered the house, everything seemed to be new. You really hoped he’d at least instinctively recall where which room is, but it didn’t happen, you had to explain everything from the beginning.

     “That’s my room...?” he asked.

     You smiled sheepishly. It used to be your room too.

     “Yeah. Do you like it?”

     “Not bad, I guess.”

     “It... changed a bit after the accident, so... I guess you could really not recall it as it is now.” Were you trying to comfort him? Or were you trying to comfort yourself...?

     “Why was it different?”

     “...”

     “Hey, the dinner is ready!” Saeyoung’s voice reached you and you turned around, almost running to the kitchen. All to not have to explain it.

     You mentally slapped yourself. It was getting harder and harder to pretend that you two were only friends. It’s been almost three weeks since he met you for the ‘first time’. It was visible that he quickly became more comfortable in your presence and it wasn’t even that difficult to act like this. But...

     You didn’t want to lie to him. And Saeyoung also was aware you couldn’t push it like this forever. 

     But... what if he actually rejected you? Telling him that you were his girlfriend was almost like a confession. What if he didn’t even like you now...? Without all his memories, the bond between you two didn’t exist. Right now, he knew only as much as he found out through those three weeks. Nothing more.

     He didn’t feel anything towards you. It’s possible that he wouldn’t even simply believe that you two used to be that close.

     Just like everyone said - you had to wait.

     It was the third day. Saeran woke up early with a headache. Sleeping in the room next to his, you could hear him wriggling in the bedsheets. The noise woke you up and you stood up dizzily. You didn’t sleep well lately and so, being woken up after a mere few hours of bad dreams wasn’t the best way to make you fully conscious.

     You knocked to his door.

     “Saeran, are you okay...?”

     A muffled whine raeched your ears and you decided to enter.

     He was curled in the sheets, covered in sweat. He wasn’t sleeping, but his body shook as his hands reached his ears, covering them as if he was trying to avoid some annoying noise.

     “Saeran...?” You came closer carefully, not wanting to startle him. “Saeran, what’s wrong...?”

     He turned his head, looking at you. He was panting heavily and you could see tears in his eyes.

     “Your head... hurts again?” you asked and he nodded. “Wait a moment, I will bring the pills.”

     You rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the medicine the doctor gave you. Along with a cup of water, you came back to Saeran’s room.

     He was sitting now, arms wrapped around his legs and face buried in his knees.

     You sat on the edge of the bed.

     “I brought the pills. How are you feeling?”   

     He shrugged, not saying anything. You only sighed.

     “The doctor said you need to take them, it’s not only about the headache, so...”

     “I won’t take them.”

     “Huh...?” You frowned. “Saeran...”

     “Get out.”

     Your eyes widened slightly, but you didn’t move.

     “Saeran, you need to...”

     “I said get out!” he glared at you. “I won’t take any pills so get the fuck out of my sight.”

     You flinched, but weren’t going to give up. 

     “At least drink some water, you’ll feel bet-”

     “Are you dumb or something?!” 

     You shivered at the tone of his voice. It was unpleasant. You knew this tone very well. For the past few months you really thought you’d never get to hear it again...

     “Saeran, please, calm down...”

     “Stop fucking saying my name!” You didn’t move. You were paralyzed by fear. Pills still in your hand, the cup in the other. The water quivered as your body trembled suddenly. “I don’t want to hear it... It’s terrible...”

     “What...?” You were utterly confused.

     “It sounds almost like his... It’s all his fault”

     Your eyes widened.

     “Y-you mean S-Saeyoung...?”

     “DON’T EVEN FUCKING MENTION HIS NAME!” 

     You didn’t even see it coming. Your vision went black for a few seconds as a sudden impact threw you back. The cup broke on the floor next to you as you dropped it, but it was the least important thing right now. 

     You landed on the floor and for a few seconds were too stunned to even know what happened.

     And when you realized that Saeran just hit you, you looked up at him. He stood up and was going towards you. You instantly curled up on the floor, burying your face in your hands. As much as you wanted to stay calm, you couldn’t help but panicked. You knew way too well how bad it may end...

     You completely didn’t know what to do though. Your cheek was throbbing in pain. You closed your eyes tightly, preparing yourself for anything that would come next.

     “...”

     He was standing in front of you. You could sense it, he was so close. You could almost hear his rapid breath, but he didn’t say a word.

     Instead, after a moment, he backed away. You curiously uncovered your eyes.

     He looked so scared now...

     “Why... did I do this...?” he asked, his eyes watering up. He tripped over the edge of the bed and fell onto the mattress. The surrounding him aura changed in a second. There was no rage anymore, no hate. Only fear. “I can’t... I can’t recall this but... W-what’s wrong with me...” He hid his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling.

     You carefully stood up, unsure what to do. Everything told you to go and comfort him. But you couldn’t ignore the fact that he could snap again any moment... 

     Damn, why isn’t Saeyoung here? He would for sure know what to do...

     You came closer, recalling all the things you had to bear with during his previous rehab. You knew not to touch him unless he lets you, but at the same time, you couldn’t let him feel alone. What’s the most important, you had to be careful. Not only for him, but for yourself. 

     “Don’t... come closer” he whispered, obviously sensing your presence. 

     “Why not...?”

     “I will... hurt you.”

     “Do you want to hurt me...?”

     “No...” His voice creaked.

     “So just don’t do this.” You carefully sat next to him and wiped the blood from your cheek.

     “I don’t understand... He’s my brother, he’s always been with me... Why do I hate him now...?”

     You sighed quietly.

     “A lot of... bad things happened. I guess that... until you recall everything, you may feel this way...”

     “Did he... leave me? Please, tell me what happened, I need to know...”

     He looked at you with teary eyes. You’ve never heard so much despair in his voice. And you felt that you shouldn’t tell him about it yet, which meant that you were torn apart... and it hurt. You didn’t know what to do.

     “I don’t think I'm the right person to tell you about this...”

     “But you’re the only person I trust now... I’m...” His eyes widened, as he seemed to suddenly realize what he did just mere moments ago. “I-I’m sorry, your face...”

     “D-does it look that bad?” you panicked a bit, looking around to find a mirror. 

     “W-well...”

     You sighed, smiling softly at his confused frown.

     “Hey, I literally owe you my life. If some wounds will be a result of helping you out, let’s say I’m fine with it.”

     And he smiled back. You almost sighed with relief. The smile was slight and weak, but calm. You could feel your heart warm up at this sight. It was okay now. 

     “You said...” He suddenly seemed to recall something. “When it happened, you said we were on a walk... Did you mean that...” He cleared his throat, looking away awkwardly “...that we were on a date...?”

     Your face instantly heatened up. But there was no point in hiding it anymore.

     “...M-maybe...?”

     “...” He shyly looked at you again. “S-so we... were t-that close...”

     “W-well...”

     “It must have been terrible for you...” he said quietly, looking down. “Sorry for not realizing it sooner...”

     You shrugged slightly.

     “It’s not your fault...”

     “You think?” He closed his eyes tiredly. “It’s so frustrating...”

     You suddenly glanced at the window. It was already morning.

     “We should go back to sleep. Espacially you. Does your head still hurt?”

     He shook his head.

     “No, it’s okay now.” He hesitated a bit, his eyes never looking away from yours. “You’re right. We should go back to sleep.”

     You wanted to stand up, but he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you down onto the mattress. 

     “...?!” 

     “Good night” he mumbled, already closing his eyes.

     “W-wait, but...”

     “What? Can’t I even sleep with my girlfriend?” His eyebrow wiggled and you couldn’t help but blush madly. Was he even serious now...?

     “...”

     “Sleep well, princess.”

     Your eyes widened and heart beat faster.

     Princess.

     You smiled softly.

     “Sleep well, my edgeboy.”

     “... How the fuck did you just call me...?”

    ˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

I’ve decided to cut it here. It’s already long as hell and I’m not even sure how many of you reached the damn end;; I realized that anything that would happen later, wouldn’t be as important as what I’ve already described and it would kind of kill the tension. 

And uh... Please, any feedback will be appreciated. It was the longest english thing I’ve ever written so I really need to know what should I work on.

I figured that angst isn’t the best birthday gift but we all love angst don’t we?

#saeran #choi #saeyoung #unknown #mint #eye #angst #fanfic #ff #mystic #messenger #mysme #mm #rfa #fanfiction #fandom #xreader #mc