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mycroftrh · 1 day ago

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@justme-andmyfandomfeels I’m not going to comment on the rest of your tags because I don’t necessarily disagree with them, I feel ambivalent and I don’t feel like that feeling’s enough to write a post over lol

But I am gonna dig in my heels on this one, actually. If you had said “it’s not obedience, it’s fear”, or even “it’s attachment”, or Hell even “it’s selfishness/possessiveness” [although as someone who has been in that situation and had family members in it as well I don’t agree with Lucas’s implied belief (and the Jedi’s stated one) that not wanting a loved one to die very very young is a moral failing, but that’s beside the point], or heck “it’s protectiveness” I would have said yeah, sure, I don’t fully agree but that’s a fair read.

But anger? No. The order of operations is wrong there. The anger came after. Once he was already high on the Dark Side.

Generalized resentment towards the Council may have been a factor in what actions he was willing to take (going against the command to wait instead of following Mace, disabling Mace) but the actual driving emotion of anger does not appear notably in the moment of his Fall. It shows up later, when he’s choking Padme and fighting Obi-Wan, and he shows it to some extent early in the movie (It’s outrageous! It’s unfair!) and there’s an argument to be made that it’s a very indirect factor via the end of Attack of the Clones.

But in the scene of his actual Fall and for multiple scenes after, he is not visibly angry. (And when Anakin’s angry, it’s visible!)

For the first section of the scene, Anakin’s affect is largely blank, if anything; he doesn’t seem capable of processing emotion at all. He’s completely passive; he just stands there except for covering his eyes when the lightning gets bright.

Then after an extended period of Palpatine pulling his “oh, I’m too weak, help me, he’s killing me” business, and Mace making it very clear he is about to pull an extra-judicial execution, Anakin finally says - without anger - “You can’t, he must stand trial. It’s not the Jedi way.”

He then gets a bit more emotional in terms of desperation - not anger - as Palpatine keeps begging and acting pathetic and Mace raises his lightsaber for the execution, and says “He must live! I need him!”

And when Mace doesn’t respond to that, he yells “No!” and non-lethally disables Mace to stop the execution and protect Palpatine. Palpatine then kills Mace, which Anakin doesn’t seem to have expected, but his expectation there is debatable so we’ll leave it off the table. He does, however, just sort of… stand there, unmoving, while this occurs. He is not helping; he is not cheering it on; and he’s also not trying to stop it. He’s just standing there, frozen, not acting or reacting.

Anakin then stumbles backwards to fall onto a seat and says, brokenly, “What have I done?”

Palpatine comes over and says “You’re fulfilling your destiny, Anakin,” and Anakin drops his head. “Become my apprentice; learn to use the Dark Side of the Force.”

Anakin pants out, brokenly, barely able to speak, “I will do whatever you… [pant] ask. Just help me save Padme’s life. I can’t live without her.” He drops his head again.

“To cheat death is a power only one has achieved, but if we work together, I know we can discover the secret.”

Anakin drops to his knees in slave-submission. (I’ve noted elsewhere that Palpatine does not cue him to do this; the only Watsonian explanation I can come up with for him kneeling here is his slave history.) He says “I pledge myself to your teachings,” and then drops his head yet again.

Palpatine names him Vader, and he says “Thank you, my Master.” (Also not a word Palpatine cued; he’s getting that one from slavery and the Jedi both.). Palpatine gives him a lot of orders, and bullshit justifications for them, and he obediently says he’ll go carry them out.

And then he does - marching on the Jedi Temple, killing the Seperatist leaders - with his only apparent emotion being grief. He’s crying, not yelling, when he kills the younglings.

The anger? The Force-choking and the LIAR and the I HATE YOU? That only shows up well after he has already Fallen.

Now, if you wanted to argue that anger is part of what kept him with Palpatine after he was in the suit and Padme was dead, I might be willing to accept that argument; I’m not sure I agree, but I don’t disagree enough to say anything. But the actual moment of Anakin’s Fall was not about anger, and that’s a textual fact.

There is an absolutely fascinating moment in the Obi-Wan and Padme and Anakin confrontation on Mustafar that I kinda want to spin like three full-length fics off of.

Anakin’s Force-choking Padme. Obi-Wan orders him: “Let her go! Let her go, Anakin!” and Anakin - Anakin who has already pledged fealty to Darth Sidious, who has already embraced the Dark Side, who has disclaimed loyalty to Obi-Wan - obeys the command.

He genuinely doesn’t seem to drop Padme because he’s processed yet what he’s doing; it really does look like he’s instinctively obeying Obi-Wan’s orders even when he’s fully off his rocker, out of his mind from everything from accumulated trauma to elemental-evil-exposure, and has officially denounced any hierarchical relationship between them.

And there is SO much to be unpacked there.

I’m guessing that what’s going on, for the most part, is a decade of conditioning as Obi-Wan’s Padawan (and subsequent years as his partner-but-subordinate) to follow his orders reflexively. Combined with Anakin’s overall instinct to obedience, trained into him by everyone from Watto to the Council to Palpatine. And that’s so powerful it overrides everything else, when even Anakin’s protectiveness of Padme couldn’t break through it. Underneath it all, he's still more Padawan than Sith Lord, at an instinctual level.

(It’s not the only time obedience to Obi-Wan takes precedence over the protectiveness of Padme that is otherwise his driving trait, by the way; Obi-Wan orders him to leave her alone and injured in Attack of the Clones and follow Obi-Wan instead of rescuing her and, though he argues a bit, he obeys.)

And what does it say, too, that that’s what Obi-Wan defaulted to? He considers Anakin a brother, at this point, sees them as equals in many ways. But in an urgent situation, he doesn’t plead or reason - he barks an order expecting to be obeyed. Because, in the end, he is a Master, and Anakin never was. And all the weight Anakin gives that fact? The near-meltdown he has about it in the Council chamber? He’s not getting that from nowhere.

In an AU, if Obi-Wan had, instead of fighting him, said “Anakin, I’m going to take over the Republic now and you’re going to be my attack dog. Sit. Stay. Now bite.” Would that have worked? Based on both this scene and how frequently Anakin offers to betray Palpatine for other people so they can rule the Empire in Palpatine’s stead with Anakin as their iron fist, it seems likely!

#star wars #mine

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pillow-coded · 20 hours ago

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To Have and To Hold — Chapter 3

Summary: After a quiet night message turns into a soft promise, Reader invites Spencer to the park. A toddler’s breakdown nearly derails the day, but it’s Spencer who meets her exactly where she is — and suddenly, they’re all a little less alone.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+)

Content Warning: Emotional toddler meltdown, real awkward ending, plus so much fluff (it hurts).

A/N: I meant to post this earlier this week, but I've had a shitty week so sorry about that. anyway, this one is really cute and kinda awkward towards the end, but still.

Word Count: 5.8k

The apartment was quiet—finally.

Maddie’s hand rested over my heart like always, warm and sticky from the bedtime banana she’d refused to finish. Her little fingers curled and uncurled with every soft exhale, grounding me more than the weight of any blanket ever could. She never meant to anchor me. But somehow, without even trying, she did.

I shifted just slightly, careful not to wake her as I reached into my nightstand drawer. Wet wipes. My saving grace since day one. There’d been too many late-night messes, too many diaper blowouts and milk spills and crayon smudges on my pillowcases. I’d learned better than to be caught unprepared.

I dabbed gently at the tacky spot on my chest, trying not to laugh. That girl could turn anything—fruit, felt tip pens, an empty laundry basket—into a memory. She should’ve been asleep in her own bed. Usually, she was. But tonight she’d asked to stay with me. Something about how happy she was, how the day had been “like ice cream in the sun.” Whatever that meant. All I knew was that her smile hadn’t faded since we’d come home.

Maybe it was the Library, or the Cafe. Maybe it was the way he’d made her laugh. The way he looked at her with such fondness.

I blinked against the dimness, trying not to think about it. About him.

But then my phone buzzed softly under the pillow.

I slid it out with one hand, careful not to jostle her. The screen lit up the room in a faint glow, barely illuminating the messy bun I’d half-heartedly tied at the crown of my head.

Unknown number.

I blinked at it.

[23:19] Unknown Number: Hi, it’s Spencer.

I sat up a little. Thumb hovering.

[23:19] Unknown Number: Just wanted to let you know, I had a good time today.

A pause. Then another message followed.

[23:20] Unknown Number: Thank you for lunch.

That one made me smile. Not because it was overly sweet or bold or flirty—but because it was him. Direct. Polite. A little awkward. Very much him.

I stared at the screen longer than I meant to, rereading each message like it might offer more if I tilted the phone or looked closer. It didn’t. But it did make my chest feel weird—tight and warm at the same time.

I typed out three or four different replies, deleting each one.

Then finally:

[23:22] Y/n: It was nice seeing you again. I think Maddie had more fun than she does on her birthday.

Send.

It took less than a minute.

[23:23] Spencer: She’s... really great.

I smiled. And then, because I couldn't help it:

[23:23] Y/n: So are you.

I hovered over the unsend button.

But didn’t press it. Instead I deleted it.

The message disappeared, swallowed by the screen like it had never existed. Still, the words hung in the air like breath on a mirror.

So are you.

Too much. Too soon. I wasn’t sure if I meant it platonically or not—and that uncertainty was a little terrifying.

Before I could spiral further, my phone buzzed again.

[23:25] Spencer: She’s... really great.

My heart softened.

So he was still thinking about her. About today. About us.

I smiled and let myself reply, more confident this time.

[23:26] Y/n: She hasn’t stopped talking about “The great wizard Spencer”

The bubble popped up almost immediately.

[23:27] Spencer: That’s a pretty solid title. I might put it on a business card.

That made me laugh. Like, an actual out-loud laugh that made Maddie stir against my arm. I stifled it quickly, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead.

[23:27] Y/n: I’ll let you know if she starts asking for autographs.

Another pause. Longer this time.

[23:29] Spencer: Would it be alright if I saw you both again sometime?

My heart did that fluttery thing it hadn’t done in way too long.

[23:30] Y/n: Of course. We’d like that.

[23:30] Y/n: She’s obsessed with the park by the old church. The one with the ducks. We’re probably going next week.

A beat.

[23:32] Spencer: Let me know when. I’ll bring more magic tricks.

I smiled down at the screen. Warm. Stupidly warm.

[23:33] Y/n: Maddie’s gonna love you if ducks and magic are involved.

[23:33] Spencer: I’m okay with that.

The reply hit harder than I expected.

I didn’t dare move Maddie—her head was still tucked against my chest, one hand limp across my ribs—but I did kick my feet a little beneath the blanket. A stupid little wiggle like I was fifteen again and someone had just texted “I like your smile” between classes.

I bit down a grin and locked the screen, hugging the phone to my shoulder like a secret. Like I could fold myself around it.

Like maybe I already was.

Then, I tucked my phone away and curled myself around Maddie. Her breathing deepened again, steady and small.

And this time, when I closed my eyes, I didn’t feel so alone.

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“Mommy! Mommy! I want to feed the ducks!”

She was already running before I could finish tying my shoe. Hair bouncing, little legs wobbling across the grass like she’d been launched from a cannon.

“Hold on, Maddie!” I called after her, one hand digging for the crusty ziplock bag of old sandwich bread I’d shoved in my coat pocket. “Wait for me!”

We’d barely been at the park for ten minutes. I'd imagined a peaceful morning—sunlight on the pond, maybe a moment to sit and breathe while she ran around chasing butterflies or scaring pigeons. But no. We’d seen one cartoon episode of Peppa Pig where they fed ducks, and suddenly this was a mission.

By the time I caught up, she was already pressed against the wooden railing by the water’s edge, bouncing on her toes.

Her whole body thrummed with purpose. And maybe it was ridiculous, how serious she looked in her little sneakers and her sparkly hair clips. But I knew that look.

She took ducks seriously. Like, seriously.

Ever since that one spring we got caught in the rain walking home from daycare, and took cover under the big oak near the pond. She was barely two, still in that phase where she called umbrellas “brellas” and clung to me like I was her only anchor in the world.

We sat on a bench under my jacket while the rain came down, and out waddled this duck. So calm. So… bold, really. Like she was the one letting us take cover in her park.

Maddie was mesmerized.

She pointed and whispered “duckie” like it was holy. And then the duck quacked—loud, short, ridiculous—and Maddie burst into laughter so hard she hiccupped. She talked about that duck for weeks. Drew it. Named it. Told anyone who would listen about that duck. Even though back then all she could say about the situation was “duckie” and “rain”,

She loves ducks.

And I should’ve known—should’ve remembered—that with Maddie, joy is always right on the edge of disaster.

“I need the bread!”

“Here,” I panted, pulling out the bag and handing her a crust. “One piece at a time, okay?”

She nodded like she was listening. She wasn’t.

The first piece went fine. A duck quacked. She squealed with glee. I smiled—right up until she tried to rip a second slice in half and it crumbled entirely in her hands.

Her face froze.

“Oh no,” she whispered, staring down at her hands.

The crust had crumbled. A soft, torn mess now instead of the perfect piece she’d carefully picked. She blinked down at it once, twice—then her lower lip started to wobble.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” she said, her voice shaking like a cup about to spill. “It was for the baby duck.”

That was all it took.

Her shoulders curled inward, little fists tightening around the useless crumbs. She wasn’t loud—not really. Just crushed. Her eyes filled fast, lashes clumped with tears that slid down before I could wipe them.

“Maddie, hey,” I murmured, already crouching beside her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can still give it to them. The ducks don’t mind if it’s—”

“But I wanted to do it right,” she choked. “It was supposed to be a big piece. For the littlest one.”

I felt my chest ache. Because of course it wasn’t just about the bread. This was about doing it right. About getting the moment just the way she imagined it in her head.

Maddie wasn’t the kind of kid who melted down often. She didn’t throw things or stomp or scream. When she fell apart, it always looked like this—quiet, crumpled, like she thought she’d ruined something important and couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

Sometimes I feel like she’s too much like me… and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

That soft kind of perfectionism, the one that doesn’t make a scene but still bruises you from the inside out—that’s mine. She must’ve picked it up without me even realizing. And now here she was, four years old and already trying to carry disappointment like it was her fault.

I rested a hand on her back, rubbing gently in small circles.

“It’s still a gift,” I whispered. “They’ll still love it. You were being really thoughtful.”

She sniffled, trying to blink away the tears. But she was still trembling, overwhelmed in that way only a little kid can be—feeling everything all at once with no place to put it.

I exhaled through my nose, brushing hair from her face as she started to sob.

“Mads, I know it’s hard. It’s just bread, baby. The ducks are still going to love it, okay?”

She wasn’t hearing me. Not really. She was too deep in it now—splotchy cheeks, hiccupping breath, the kind of cry that meant her logic center had officially left the building. I sat back on my heels and rubbed a hand up her arm, unsure if I should wait it out or—

“Hey.”

The voice was soft, careful. I turned.

Spencer.

He was walking toward us slowly, hands tucked in his coat pockets, eyes trained on Maddie like she was something fragile—like he didn’t want to step too hard and shatter her.

He crouched beside us, not directly in front of her, but angled. A little to the side. Not taking up too much space. Not pushing. Just… there.

“Did you know,” he said, voice low and steady, “ducklings sleep in a line, and the last one watches for danger?”

Maddie hiccupped mid-cry.

Spencer glanced at her. “They take turns. The one at the back is like the brave little lookout. And when that one gets tired, they all shuffle around and a new duckling takes over.”

Her breathing slowed.

Not stopped—but slowed. She looked at him. Her brows were still pinched, lips still trembling, but her eyes were on him now.

“Really?” she sniffled.

He nodded solemnly. “Mm-hmm. They’re very organized. I don’t think they cry when their bread breaks.”

Her bottom lip twitched—almost a smile, almost a sob. She wiped her face on her sleeve and looked down at the crumbs in her palm.

“I was gonna give it to the baby duck,” she whispered.

Spencer reached over, gently gathering the soft little bits of crust from her hands like they were something worth keeping.

“I think the baby duck will still like it. Maybe even more.”

She didn’t answer. Just nodded slowly, eyes darting to the pond where the ducks were still floating, completely unfazed by the emotional crisis unfolding beside them.

I looked at him—at this man with too-long sleeves and a napkin in his back pocket and somehow, somehow, the exact right words for her. He met her where she was. Not above her. Not behind her. Right there.

My throat felt tight, watching them. Not romantic, not yet. Just… grateful.

He glanced at me.

“She okay?” he asked quietly.

I could only nod.

She was still sniffling, but the storm had passed. And he—he had been the one to calm it.

Spencer leaned back on his heels and looked down at her gently. “Come on, Maddie,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s go sit for a bit.”

She nodded solemnly, still clutching the now-crumbled crust in her palm like it was important. Like she’d earned it.

The three of us made our way to a sun-warmed bench just off the path. Maddie plopped beside me for all of thirty seconds before spotting a stick and toddling back into the grass with renewed purpose.

“Stay where I can see you,” I called after her automatically.

“I am here,” she chirped, not looking back—already dragging her stick through a patch of mud like she was etching runes only she could read.

I smiled, shaking my head, then glanced at Spencer. He was sitting beside me now, arms resting on his knees, eyes still half-watching her.

Maddie had wandered a few feet off the path, turning slow circles in the grass. Her cheeks were still blotchy, her nose pink, but her energy had returned with that stubborn, sunlit determination only kids seem to have. She hummed softly to herself, poking at a leaf like it owed her an explanation.

The quiet between us wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt… earned.

“Thanks again,” I said gently. “For what you said to her. I don’t think I would’ve gotten through to her like that.”

Spencer shook his head, eyes still following Maddie’s slow loops through the grass.

“Of course you would’ve,” he said, like it was fact. “You’re her mom.”

There was no teasing in his voice. No patronizing edge. Just this calm certainty, like he didn’t even question it—like being her mom meant I had all the answers, even on the days I felt like I was making it up as I went.

I didn’t say anything at first. Just watched Maddie squat to poke a stick into a puddle, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“She really wanted to do it right,” I murmured.

“She did.”

His tone was so sure, so full of quiet admiration that I had to glance over at him.

“You’re good with kids,” I said.

He shrugged. “I read some parenting books. Once.”

I laughed under my breath. “You studied parenting?”

Spencer nodded, like that wasn’t a strange thing for someone without kids to do. “I thought… maybe, one day.” He paused, then looked down. “And it helped. Knowing things, I mean. Back then.”

Something in the way he said back then made my smile falter. Just a little.

There it was again—that curiosity I can’t seem to shut off. The kind I usually try to smother when it comes to strangers. But he wasn’t a stranger, not really. And he didn’t owe me anything. He’d only met me twice. But still… the way he spoke around things, softened the edges of certain truths—it made me lean in.

The parts he was awfully vague about glowed to me, and as always, I was attracted to that glow.

“Maybe one day?” I pry. God, I hate myself for it, but I can’t help it.

He looks taken aback for a second, like he didn’t expect me to ask. Then his gaze drops again, quieter this time.

“I just… always thought I’d have kids someday. I guess it just won’t ever happen.”

There’s a shrug at the end of it, but it feels forced—like he knows better than to hope, so he’s trying not to want. Like wanting hurts too much.

I don’t answer right away. Because what do you say to that? You still could? Never say never? None of it would land right, and I’m not sure I’ve earned the right to reassure him.

So I just sit with it. With him. Letting his words settle like dust between us while Maddie hums in the distance, dragging her stick across a tree root like she’s solving a puzzle only she understands.

I turned my eyes back to Maddie. She was trying to balance her stick on a rock now, humming to herself like she hadn’t just had a meltdown fifteen minutes ago.

We sat in silence for a while. Long enough for the breeze to pick up and scatter a few dandelion tufts past our shoes.

Out in the grass, Maddie was trying to balance her stick on a rock, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. She hummed to herself like she hadn’t just cried her heart out fifteen minutes ago.

That’s the thing about kids. They rebound faster than the rest of us ever learn to.

The silence stretched between us, but it didn’t feel empty. It felt like something was being carefully made—not spoken, but built all the same.

The breeze picked up, rustling through the trees, scattering a few dandelion tufts past our shoes. Maddie tried to catch one, missed, and laughed like she hadn’t missed at all.

“Maddie, come here sweetheart,” I called gently, not because she was far, but because I wanted her a little closer. She looked up, blinked, and came skipping back without hesitation, stick still clutched in one hand.

She settled on the grass by my feet, twisting the hem of her shirt, perfectly content.

I looked at her. Then at Spencer.

“Mads,” I said, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear, “why don’t you take Spence on a hunt for dandelions?”

Her head popped up, instantly intrigued.

“The one who brings me the most wins.”

It was a lighthearted prompt, but I meant it. Not the game itself—but what it could give him. A small piece of something I could tell he thought he’d lost.

I didn’t know what he’d say. But part of me hoped that maybe if he felt just a little needed—if she looked at him with that wide-eyed kind of wonder only she could pull off—then maybe it would lift the weight he was carrying. Even just a little.

Maybe it would help soothe whatever part of him still ached from wanting more.

Maddie gasped like I’d just handed her a treasure map. “Come on!” she squeaked, grabbing Spencer’s hand with both of hers.

He barely had time to react before she was tugging him toward the grass, already scanning the lawn like a detective on a mission.

Spencer stumbled a step, startled, then let out a soft laugh—more breath than sound—as he glanced back at me with wide eyes, like Is this normal? Am I being kidnapped by a preschooler?

I just smiled and waved them off. “No mercy, Spencer. She plays to win.”

He shook his head, still smiling as Maddie dragged him deeper into the dandelion hunt—stick in one hand, Spencer in the other.

I watched them go—his long, unsure stride trying to match her bouncing steps, her chatter already spilling out in enthusiastic bursts. Something about which flowers counted and which ones were “too yellow,” as if that were a rule.

Spencer looked completely out of his element and, somehow, like he belonged there anyway.

It did something to me.

Something warm. A little sharp around the edges.

Because I hadn’t expected to see that look on his face. Not so soon. Not here. But there it was—genuine, soft, and just the tiniest bit overwhelmed in a way that made me ache.

He didn’t even notice he was still holding her hand.

And Maddie didn’t either.

She just pointed excitedly to a patch near a tree and pulled him along with that same relentless certainty she had when she knew exactly what she wanted.

And for a second, I let myself wonder what it would look like—really look like—if that image in front of me wasn’t temporary. If this wasn’t just a moment, but a beginning.

That image is quickly scratched off when my brain comes back to the real world, and remember this is my third time seeing him.

I leaned back on the bench and closed my eyes for half a second, letting the sound of her laughter and his quiet responses drift through the breeze like music I didn’t know I’d been missing.

That softness barely had time to settle in my chest before reality tugged it back out. Because this was only the third time I’d ever seen him.

Three times. That’s it.

I let out a breath and leaned back on the bench, closing my eyes for half a second—just long enough to take in the sound of Maddie’s laughter and Spencer’s soft replies. It all drifted in on the breeze like music I didn’t know I’d been missing.

Their voices got louder before I opened my eyes.

“We found so many!” Maddie announced, bursting back toward the bench like she was returning from war with trophies. Her hands were full—dandelions, leaves, a stick or two for good measure.

Spencer followed behind, looking slightly winded and holding his own handful of flattened stems and sun-worn petals. His hair was a little messier now, a leaf stuck to his elbow, and he looked... happy. A little confused by it, but happy.

“I think we cleared out half the park,” he said, glancing at me as he approached.

“She said we have enough,” he added, gesturing to Maddie. “Her exact words were, ‘This is too many for a crown.’”

Maddie dumped her collection into my lap like a florist with no concept of restraint. “You have to pick the best ones,” she said seriously.

“I’ll try,” I smiled, already sorting through the tangle of greens and golds. “But I might need a caffeine boost first.”

Spencer hesitated. Not dramatically. Just for a beat—long enough that I noticed.

Then: “Do you want to grab a coffee? There’s a place just across the street. I mean—if you’re not in a rush.”

He said it casually, but there was something hopeful tucked inside the words.

I looked at Maddie, who had now moved on to weaving blades of grass together like she was inventing rope.

“I think we’ve got time,” I said, glancing back at him. “Especially if they have chocolate milk.”

Spencer smiled—really smiled—and offered his hand to help me up.

“Then it’s a date.”

He blinked, like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

I didn’t correct him, just smiled.

The café was familiar. The kind of place I used to seek out during long layovers and quiet Saturday mornings. Warm lighting. Muffled conversation. A low hum of espresso machines. It should’ve made me feel grounded.

But nothing about being around her ever felt grounded.

Y/n ordered Maddie’s warm milk like it was second nature—“just a little foam, please, not too hot”—and I couldn’t stop watching the way her hand hovered protectively near her daughter’s back while she spoke. Easy. Confident. Effortlessly cool, in that way people are when they don’t know you’re watching.

I stepped up to the counter, said my order too quickly, and regretted it immediately. Black coffee. Four sugars. I should’ve asked for something else. Something less... revealing.

We moved to a table by the window. Maddie climbed into her seat like it was a jungle gym. Y/n slid into hers with a kind of fluid calm that made me hyper-aware of how long it took me to sit down.

The moment I touched my cup, I was already wrapping a napkin around it. I always do. It wasn’t even about the heat. It was the texture. The condensation. The smudges. I didn’t like the way paper cups felt.

Across from me, Y/n was watching.

“That’s a lot of sugar,” she murmured with a smile. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or just amused.

I should be better at telling the difference. I’m a profiler, for crying out loud… but I just couldn’t.

It didn’t help that her voice was so gentle. Or that her smile wasn’t mean—but it wasn’t entirely neutral either. It lingered in this space I couldn’t read. And I hate not being able to read people. Especially when it’s her.

I looked down at the cup, at the napkin crinkled under my fingertips. “Four and a half,” I said quietly. “Sometimes five.”

“Wow,” she replied, leaning back with wide eyes that might’ve been mock-horrified, but still kind. “You don’t strike me as a sugar guy.”

I shrugged, bracing for the joke. “You’d be surprised.”

She didn’t laugh at me. Just took a sip of her drink and tilted her head like she was trying to figure something out about me. And it made me want to explain it. Like if I could just offer enough context, maybe I wouldn’t feel so exposed.

“It’s just… it balances the bitterness. I don’t like sweet drinks, but straight black coffee is too acidic. Sugar dulls that. And it’s not like I drink a ton of it—just… every morning.”

She smiled again. “Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to justify liking your coffee weird.”

I blinked. “It’s not—”

She raised an eyebrow.

Okay. It’s weird.

I flushed and looked back down at my cup, fingers tightening slightly around the napkin.

I glanced to the side—Maddie had gotten up and was now twirling slowly near the edge of our table, holding her warm milk in both hands like it was some sort of magic chalice.

Her voice was soft and distracted as she spun, “This is a potion… for frogs and wishes and—and sparkles—”

I smiled without meaning to.

Y/n did too.

And for a moment, I thought maybe this wasn’t so strange after all. Maybe this little pocket of normalcy—this table, this coffee, this conversation—was something I could belong in.

“I think it’s endearing,” she added after a beat. “The sugar. The napkin. The whole—” she gestured vaguely at me, “thing.”

The whole thing.

I wasn’t sure what that meant. But she said it like it wasn’t bad.

And that... that kind of terrified me.

She didn’t allowed me to overthink it too much, because she quickly switched the subject.

“What do you do for a living?”

I blinked.

It was such a normal question. One I’d answered a hundred times. But for some reason I felt like answering it would make her run for the hills.

Because this—whatever this was—felt like the first thing in a long time that I didn’t want to screw up.

And telling people what I do usually has a way of screwing things up.

Not immediately, not always. But there’s a shift. Their eyes go a little wider, their questions get more cautious, the air between us starts to carry weight. They picture blood and bodies, serial killers and endless darkness. They imagine me as some hardened version of myself—someone who can’t possibly fit into a soft, ordinary world like this one.

They don’t see the way it costs something. Or how much of myself I’ve had to wall off just to keep doing it.

And maybe the worst part is, I don’t even blame them.

So yeah. I hesitated.

Because Y/n doesn’t feel like someone passing through. And I don’t want her looking at me like I’m another thing to be careful around.

I just want her to keep looking at me like this—curious, a little amused, like I’m someone she actually wants to know.

“I, uh...” I hesitated. Then frowned slightly. “Why are you asking?”

She raised an eyebrow, sipping her drink. “Just curious.”

Before I could respond, there was a sharp gasp and the scrape of a chair leg against the floor.

I turned just in time to see Maddie—spinning, laughing—bump full force into a woman carrying a tray.

The tray jolted. A to-go cup teetered. A lid flew.

Coffee sloshed dangerously close to the edge before the woman caught it, steadying everything with an almost superhuman reflex.

Maddie froze mid-spin, eyes wide. Milk dripping from the rim of her cup.

I stood up without thinking, already reaching for the napkins.

Y/n was faster. She was by Maddie’s side in a second, one hand bracing her daughter’s arm, the other already offering an apology.

“Oh my god—I'm so sorry,” she said breathlessly. “Maddie, hey—baby, slow down, remember?”

The woman blinked, then laughed. Not sharply—kindly. Like someone who’s been there.

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling at Y/n. “I’ve got three at home. They’re always so hyper.”

Then she crouched slightly, looking Maddie right in the eye. “Just gotta be careful with coffee, sweetheart. Grown-ups get very dramatic when their caffeine disappears.”

Maddie gave a quick, serious nod like she’d just been handed ancient scrolls.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“No harm done.” The woman stood, tray still in one piece. Then she looked up—at me, at Y/n, at all three of us standing around this tiny table like something sacred had just been spilled.

“You guys make a cute family,” she said.

Y/n opened her mouth—just slightly—like she might explain. But nothing came out.

I didn’t say anything either.

Our eyes met. Just for a second. Maybe two.

But it felt longer.

She didn’t smile. I didn’t, either. There was no soft laugh, no quick deflection—just that look. Still, quiet, sharp at the edges. Like we were both holding our breath under it.

I should’ve laughed. Said something. Cleared the air before it turned into something neither of us was ready to touch. But my throat felt tight. My mouth didn’t move.

And the worst part?

I didn’t want to correct the woman.

Because in that moment—just for that fleeting, fragile second—it didn’t feel wrong.

It felt like something we’d almost earned. Like a dream I hadn’t let myself have, standing there, looking at her holding Maddie so gently, like this was their rhythm and I’d just... joined in.

Her eyes were the first to flick away.

But not far. Just down—to Maddie. To the hand still curled lightly around her sleeve.

She didn’t say we’re not. She didn’t laugh it off either. And I knew Y/n. She was quick-witted, sharp. She always had something to say.

The fact that she said nothing? That spoke louder than anything else.

My grip on the napkins tightened. I didn’t realize I was still holding them.

I wanted to ask what she was thinking. If she felt it too—that strange pull between us, like a truth neither of us had the right to claim yet.

But Maddie broke the silence before I could.

She looked up at both of us, blinking slowly. Her voice came out in a whisper, fragile and curious.

“We’re a family?”

It hit me like a pin to a balloon.

And that was it. The moment fractured.

Y/n’s expression changed instantly—like someone had flipped a switch. That softness in her eyes vanished, replaced by quiet panic. Her voice came quickly, too quickly.

“No, sweetheart…” she said, crouching slightly beside Maddie, her hands smoothing down the child’s arms as if that might ground them both. “Spencer’s our friend.”

She smiled as she said it. Gentle. Reassuring.

But it was the kind of smile you put on when something needs to be undone.

And she was right. Of course she was right.

We weren’t a family.

I had only just met her. Twice, technically. Maybe three times, if you count the bookstore. And already I was letting myself entertain some ridiculous narrative like I belonged in this picture—like I could fold myself into their life without warning or invitation.

God. I really should’ve said something.

I should’ve corrected the stranger. Should’ve stepped in before Y/n had to. Should’ve done something to stop that little ache in Maddie’s voice before it landed in the middle of us like that.

Instead, I just stood there. Silent. A napkin still balled in my hand like I didn’t know what else to hold.

I wasn’t her dad. I wasn’t her partner. I wasn’t even really their friend.

I was just some guy who got too comfortable in a moment that didn’t belong to him.

We eventually sat down again. Maddie was calm now, sipping what was left of her milk and humming quietly to herself, as if the moment had never happened.

But I could still feel the tension clinging to my spine like static. Y/n didn’t look at me. She just wiped her hand on a napkin and sat back in her chair, her face unreadable.

Then—too casual, like she was trying to smooth the silence with a joke—she said, “Most dads would’ve panicked with a spill like that.”

It hit harder than it should have.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to imply that you were implying that I was. I just—sometimes people assume things, and I didn’t want it to sound like I thought—”

I stopped. Inhaled. Shut my eyes for half a second.

God. Stop talking.

Y/n didn’t say anything right away. Just stirred her drink with the little wooden stick, slow and unbothered.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” she said finally. Calm. Simple. Kind, but not comforting. “It was just a comment.”

Right. Just a comment.

And I’d made it weird.

I nodded, even though it didn’t feel like enough. I didn’t know how to say I didn’t mean to get weird about it because the truth is I wish I belonged in that picture. So I didn’t say anything.

I just folded the edge of my napkin tighter and stared at my coffee like it had the answer I’d missed.

“She’s funny,” I said instead. My voice came out quieter than I meant.

Y/n finally glanced over.

“She likes you,” she said. And her tone had changed—not playful, not distant. Just… honest.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Because I liked her too. Too much. Too soon. And I had no idea what to do with that.

So I didn’t do anything.

Not when she looked away. Not when Maddie reached for her hand. Not even when I thought, for the briefest second, about reaching for it too.

I just sat there, fingers fidgeting with a damp napkin, trying to act like I hadn’t already imagined what it might feel like to belong here.

To be part of their little world.

To be hers.

Maddie giggled at something only she understood, milk still clinging to the corners of her mouth. Y/n smiled at her, soft and real, and I felt it hit me in the chest—how easy it came to them.

How hard it was to sit across from that and pretend I didn’t want in.

The sunlight had shifted, hitting the table just right. I watched the reflection of her hand on the glass.

And let it stay there, just out of reach.

Previous Chapter

taglist : @smithieandy @kspencer34 @person-005 @diffidentphantom @23moonjellies @reidssoulmate @imaginationfever13 @measure-in-pain @Reidrs @un-messed @rhinelivinglife @Skye-westwood @xxfairyqueenxx @alrat13

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #post prison spencer #post prison reid #girl dad spencer reid

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rosetta-j-stone · 12 hours ago

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IT'S BOJERE WEEK 2025!

Original post here - thanks to @oneshotdepresso for organising!

Day 1 - SFW - Dinner Date!

(AU where this is how Bojan and Jere meet for the first time)

For once, Bojan Cvjetićanin is EARLY for something.

And NERVOUS.

Why am I nervous? This is no big deal. I'm just meeting a stranger. Off the internet. For dinner.

He did suggest going for coffee but apparently this guy (Jere...something) is super-busy during the day. So. Dinner it is.

He got Jan to pick out some hipster-but-not-too-hipster venue rather than one of the places he, Bojan, usually goes. Because what if the date's a disaster and he can never go back there again? Or, worse, the date goes well, they date for a bit, then have a hideous break-up IN THIS SAME RESTAURANT (it's their go-to place now, obviously) and THEN he can never go back there again?

You have to be prepared for this sort of thing.

He can picture Jan rolling his eyes at this while pointing out that this kind of overthinking is exactly why the gang signed him up for this in the first place. So he can get out of his own head and - crucially - out of the house.

Whatever. If this is a disaster he's got a whole PowerPoint presentation entitled I Told You So with Jan's name on it.

***

Jere Pöyhönen is running late. Like, inexcusably late. Like, "you'll have to AT LEAST offer to buy the drinks" late.

In his defence, however, it turns out that very few of the clothes he owns are in that middle ground between his "Freddie Mercury Approved" stage outfits and his "Freddie Mercury Appalled" leisurewear. It took him about an hour to find something even vaguely suitable.

So of course he's ended up leaving the house super-late AND he's had to skip a few of the other things he would normally do before going on a first date.

For example, his nails are currently unvarnished.

Feels wrong somehow. Like his fingers are...naked.

Heh.

STOP IT, JERE. Arriving this late, you'll be lucky to get a smile out of the guy, let alone-

The thought distracts him so much that he almost barrels straight past the restaurant.

***

Bojan has already made his way through one surprisingly boozy pina colada and is considering ordering a second when Jere - it HAS to be him, right? - bursts through the door in a flurry of energy, apologies and...glitter eyeshadow?

Huh. Interesting.

The hair is different from his profile pic - instead of a dark bowl cut he's sporting a blonde quiff. He's not too taken aback by this though. Maybe because from the guy's other pictures it seems like he changes his look on a fairly regular basis, maybe because of the pina colada. Or maybe he's finally succeeding in channelling his inner Jan and nothing will faze him ever again.

Jere pulls up a chair opposite him and looks him in the eyes.

OK. Nope. Nope. He's definitely still capable of being fazed.

DAMNIT.

***

Okei, the guy doesn't look annoyed. That's a good sign.

Jere breathes a deep inward sigh of relief as he grabs the menu and starts scanning it so he can avoid wasting more of this man's time on umming and ahing over the options. Thank the lord this isn't one of those overly fancy places where he doesn't understand the menu in his own language let alone anyone else's.

Though he seems to remember something in this guy's profile about his friends calling him "Languages Georg" so he could always throw himself on his mercy if required.

He sneaks a look up at him from under his eyelashes, then thinks, what the hell, and follows it with a slow look down.

Hmmm, yesyes verinice.

Definitely wouldn't mind throwing myself on his-

-FOCUS, JERE.

***

"I was just going to order another one of these" Bojan says, gesturing at his empty glass in what he hopes is a careless, casual way. "Do you want one? Do you like pina coladas?" And getting caught in the rain, he mercifully does NOT say out loud.

Jere beams at him. Oh boy. The smile is even more devastating than the eyes. "Yes, very much. I get these?"

The power of speech seems to have momentarily deserted him so Bojan simply nods.

Jere gets up, bounds over to the bar and immediately begins sweet-talking the dour-looking bartender. At least Bojan assumes sweet-talking is going on. There is DEFINITELY some eyelash-batting involved.

Not that he's bothered.

Nope.

He drags his eyes back to the menu, like he hasn't already read it five times and knows exactly what he's going to order.

After what feels like an unnecessarily long amount of time, Jere returns, triumphantly bearing a pina colada in each hand. He hands one to Bojan, their fingers brushing each other as he does so.

Bojan damn near drops the glass.

Thank goodness for fast reflexes.

***

Hoo boy. That was intense.

As he takes his seat again, Jere quickly looks around to make sure the glass in the windows is still intact and the lights are still working.

Yep, everything is perfectly normal apparently.

Seems fake but okei.

He raises his glass. "So...Bojan..."

...please let me have pronounced that correctly...

"...na zdravje?"

***

Carpe diem, whispers Bojan's inner Jan.

He's really cute, whispers his inner Jure.

You got this, whispers his inner Nace.

If he breaks your heart, I'll hunt him down and kill him myself, whispers his inner Kris.

Bojan takes a breath, raises his glass, and clinks it against Jere's.

"...na zdravje" he replies, grinning.

#bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #käärijä #kaarija #bojere week 2025 #fanfic #oneshot #fluff

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nliast · 2 days ago

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About my current situation.

This topic is kinda hard for me to write about, specially having in mind that I am very private about my life and emotions in social media, but, I think that informing you all about my situation is necessary considering that i asked for help regarding my dog.

First of I would like to say thanks to all the people that were actively asking me how I was and how she (my dog) was, thanks for giving me that space to talk and express myself a little better, I also wanna thank to all the people who donated and reposted my post about emergency commissions, thanks from the bottom of my heart. The situation of my dog (she was called Claire) was very complex and varied since every diagnosis regarding her sickness was different, she started by not eating, then they suspected it may be a dental infection, after some blood tests were made, they noticed an anemia related problem and that there might be a tumor, then after more tests there was never a tumor but there was a problem in the kidneys and the liver, then this diagnosis was discarded as well and more tests to see how likely it was that the anemia was caused by a parasite or cancer they x rayed but every diagnosis except for the anemia was discarded, in the end I had to go to another vet (because I had problems with the first one when she was hospitalized) that guided me with more test and sent me to consult an endocrinologist since so many variables in the results of every medical exam they did, was most likely an hormone problem. There they told me that the most likely sickness was Addison, and how complicated and expensive the treatment was since it is a non-regenerative anemia and said treatment was lifelong, because her body was no longer capable of producing certain hormones on her own, still tho' there was not a 100% certainty it was Addison, because first I had to do more tests and even repeat blood tests just to confirm it was (I was so tired at this point) but unfortunately I didn't have more money to keep on going. every veterinarian I asked about the case told me it was very strange and complicated, specially since after she was hospitalized she was acting her usual self, so I had hopes of trying to save money to keep on trying, I was working overtime to gather more money, pay my bills and save what was left to keep on trying next month, but this last Sunday, the anemia got worse, to a point she stopped eating and her condition rapidly worsened. my mother and I were left with no choice but to toughen it up and give her all our love the last hours she spent with us.

One more time thank you all for all the help you folks provided me with, because I was able to be with her, being her natural self one more month thanks to that

Soon I will be back at being more active and finish all the commissions I have yet to finish.

#boletin #it was pretty hard to write this when it is still so fresh

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obsessivevoidkitten · 23 hours ago

Note

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

That's a lot to read and I do not follow these people.

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rainbow-starheart · 3 days ago

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I am deeply disappointed.

I’ve just been made aware, through screenshots and inbox report anons, that M1tt3nK1tt3n and Slytheanti have been posting extremely immature, hostile, and threatening content aimed at Proshippers. Some of which involve death threats.

This is NOT okay. I do not condone this behavior, and I never have.

Let me be crystal clear:

@m1tt3nkitt3n and @slytheanti are NOT and have NEVER BEEN official members of the Cosmic Guardians.

They are mutuals—not insiders, not vetted, and not given access to our private community or guidelines. The Cosmic Guardians is a closed, curated group of only 14 members, all 18+, chosen after months of building trust, maturity, and mutual values. Take Midnight ( @shadowwolfmemes ), for example—smart, responsible, and actually helpful in defending my name with facts, not childish swearing and impulsive posts.

This drama is exhausting. And the fact that some of you are out here in the Proshipper circle accusing me of harboring toxicity or being a “fake safe space” because you saw a few out-of-context mutuals?

You’re reaching, and you’re reaching blindly.

(these post where given to me in dms by anonymous users)

You screenshot my posts, try to analyze them, and still manage to miss basic context—like the part where I specifically said membership is 18+ and invite-only. You accuse me of “cult behavior” while clearly failing to read and comprehend. If you're going to analyze my screenshots, read harder next time or don’t bother acting like you understand the full picture.

You can be upset. You can dislike me. But don’t call me responsible for people who aren’t even under my banner.

I can’t always see what mutuals post, especially when I’m focused on handling situations INSIDE the community—defending myself from false allegations, helping my people heal, and maintaining order. I’m not their babysitter.

That said…

To M1tt3nK1tt3n and Slytheanti:

I am severely disappointed. You’re not helping me. You’re making it worse. You claim to be antis, but your behavior is a mockery of what true anti-abuse values are supposed to look like. If you want to defend me, do so with facts, patience, and self-control. Not unfiltered rage.

You remind me of angry kids who throw sand at bullies and then get surprised when it blows back. I’ve had to clean up messes that weren’t mine more times than I can count. And frankly? I’m getting tired of cleaning after everyone while being accused for the spills.

You two are just giving Proship-froggo and Toxic-fandomite some fuel to the fire (and for the love of stars, stop spitting on their names)

#rainbow starheart #cosmic guardians #anti proship #oc artist #anti #anti proshipper #anti proshipping #anti proshippers

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trippiexlove · 1 day ago

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Ch.20 - Serendipity

Story Master List

Main Master List - If you would like to be tagged comment below!

Because y'all asked so nicely ☺️ , enjoy!

Druitt POV

recap...

Trin stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, her eyes holding a truth I both desperately wanted and desperately feared to see. The silence in the room intensified, every nerve in my body screaming for the answer etched on her face...

"It's negative, girl," I let out a sigh of relief, placing my hands on my chest. Trin tossed the test in the trash and walked over to me. "How are you feeling?"

"Slightly relieved. I don't think we're quite ready to have children together right now," I admitted.

"Why you think that?" she asked, a confused look on her face.

"Well, we're both really focused on our careers right now, plus we haven't even been dating for that long," I shrugged as I pulled my gear out of my bag.

"What about years from now? If you're still champion, would you hold off then too? Look at Becky, she had a baby, came back, and won titles back to back. A baby isn't going to stop you, sis," she said with a knowing look before heading out.

I sighed, lost in thought. The opening of the door startled me, pulling me away from my thoughts. I turned to see Jey walking in.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, walking over to me. He placed his hands on my lower back, giving me a quick kiss, before heading over to the couch to sit down.

"Hey, babe, what's up?"

I went over and sat in his lap. "I've got a backstage segment and then a match with Jade. I think we're closing out the show," I said, fiddling with his curls.

"Mmm, I might have to start calling you Ms. Main Event then," we both chuckled at his joke.

"I guess so," I replied, smiling. We talked for a few more minutes until he had to leave to finish getting ready for his match. After he left, I quickly changed into my gear, since my hair and makeup were already done.

After I was done changing, I left the dressing room and headed towards the interview area, where I met up with Cathy.

We filmed the interview quickly, and then I made my way to Gorilla to get ready for my match. I saw Jade there, and we went over the plan. Finally, it was time for Jade to make her entrance. Her music hit, and she walked out of Gorilla to a loud pop from the crowd. I waited a couple of minutes, getting myself into position. Once my music hit, I was completely in the zone.

As I walked out, the crowd cheered just as loudly for me. I looked around, holding my title up in the air as my pyros went off. A smirk played on my lips as I walked to the ring, keeping intense eye contact with Jade.

Samantha announced the match as the ref held up the title. Soon, the bell rang, signaling the start.

~After the Match~

The adrenaline was starting to fade, leaving a pleasant weariness in its wake. Back in my dressing room, I methodically gathered my gear, the familiar weight of my bag a comforting presence. Stepping out into the backstage hallway, I offered quick goodnights to the passing superstars and the hardworking crew, their nods and smiles a testament to the shared experience of the night.

The roar of the crowd beyond the backstage doors was still a vibrant hum. As I emerged, a few enthusiastic fans called out, their cheers a final burst of energy. I waved in their direction, a genuine smile on my face, before spotting Jey leaning against our car. Eager to avoid lingering and the potential for a larger gathering, I slipped into the passenger seat.

With Jey behind the wheel, we pulled away from the arena, the sounds of the night softening as we headed towards the familiar comfort of our hotel. A low melody drifted from the car speakers, a relaxed soundtrack to our post-match calm.

I noticed Jey subtly rotating his right shoulder, a slight wince creasing his brow. "You okay, babe?" I asked, concern lacing my voice.

"Yeah, I'm good ma," he replied, his voice a little tight. "Shoulder's a bit sore, that's all."

"I can work on that for you when we get to the hotel," I offered, gently rubbing the tense muscle beneath my fingertips as he drove.

A small smile touched his lips. "I definitely won't turn that down."

The drive to the hotel was quick and comfortable. We gathered our bags and made our way to our room, the quiet normalcy a welcome contrast to the electric energy of the arena.

Inside, we fell into our familiar nighttime routine, the unspoken rhythm of our shared life a comforting ritual. Emerging from the bathroom, I found Jey sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped slightly. I moved behind him, my hands finding the knots and tension in his muscles. I kneaded and pressed, feeling the tightness gradually ease under my touch.

After a while, his head tilted forward, a sigh escaping his lips. "You good, babe?" I murmured.

He placed his hands over mine, stilling my movements. "Yeah, thanks, beautiful. Shoulders feel a lot better." He turned his head slightly, his eyes finding mine.

Leaning over his shoulder, I pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a silent expression of care and affection. We settled into bed, the soft glow of the television screen casting a warm light as we cuddled close, the day's excitement fading into peaceful sleep.

~A Few Days Later~

Atlanta was a welcome change of pace, filled with the happy chaos of spending time with Jey and Jeyce. Today, though, I was carving out some solo time, eagerly anticipating a lunch date with Trin, who was also in town with Jon.

I was just putting the finishing touches on my hair when Josh strolled into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smirk.

"Mmm," he drawled, his eyes running over me. "Might have to tell Trin you're not going to make it."

I turned, a confused look on my face. "Why would you do that?"

"Have you seen how you look?" he said, stepping closer. "Girl better be lucky I won't get you pregnant right now."

A nervous laugh escaped me at his bold statement.

If only you knew... the thought flickered through my mind, a secret warmth blooming within me.

"Could you help me with this necklace?" I asked, turning my back to him. He moved behind me, his fingers fumbling slightly with the delicate clasp before securing it. He then pressed a soft kiss to the nape of my neck, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me close.

"Josh, I really don't have the time," I said gently, though a shiver traced its way down my spine.

"Just a few minutes," he murmured into my hair. "Trin can wait."

A soft chuckle escaped me. I turned in his embrace, my hands resting on his chest. "As much as I would absolutely love to," I said, my gaze softening, "one, Jeyce is downstairs. Two, I really do need to go. And three," I leaned closer, my lips a breath away from his, "we both know it wouldn't just be a few minutes." I punctuated the statement with a quick kiss before stepping out of his arms.

"That's okay," he said, a knowing wink in his eye as he backed out of the bathroom. "This weekend, you mine tho."

I gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror, soothing my hands down my outfit. A small smile playing on my lips, before grabbing my purse and heading downstairs, the promise of lunch with Trin and the anticipation of the weekend mingling in my thoughts.

"Alright, I'm gone, babe," I said, leaning in for a quick peck, already turning to leave.

"Here," Jey called out, and I turned back to see him tossing me a set of keys. "Take the Cedes. Take care of her."

I caught the keys, a smile spreading across my face as I looked up at him. "I promise to take care of your baby," I replied playfully, before heading out the door, sliding into the luxurious car, and pulling away from the house.

The drive to the brunch spot was easy, and I immediately spotted Trin at a cozy corner table. As I walked over, her face lit up.

"Hey, sis!" she exclaimed, pushing back her chair to embrace me in a warm hug.

"Hey, girl," I said, settling into the seat as the waitress approached to take our orders.

"So, what's up with you?" Trin asked once we were alone again.

I shook my head slightly. "Nothing much, still processing that little scare from a few days ago."

"Yeah, did you tell Jey?"

"No, I didn't," I admitted, my gaze drifting for a moment. "I don't think I'm going to tell him, to be honest." Just then, our food arrived, and we paused our conversation to savor the delicious smells and take our first bites.

"Why not?" Trin prompted after a comfortable silence. "Have y'all ever talked about having children together?"

I nodded. "Yes, we have. We're both on the same page about where we see ourselves in the future." I took a slow sip of my mimosa before continuing, "I have absolutely no doubts about having children with him. He's a fantastic father to Jeyce."

"I'm sensing a little hesitation there," Trin observed gently.

"I mean," I began, a thoughtful frown creasing my brow, "if I were pregnant, wouldn't it be too soon? We've only been dating for five months."

"I hear what you're saying," she acknowledged, "but you guys have such a strong connection already." I nodded in agreement, the truth of her words resonating within me.

"Yeah, we do, and I want to nurture that for a while," I explained. "Not saying our relationship couldn't handle having a child, but right now doesn't feel like the right time." I shrugged. "Plus, he just asked me to move in, and I still haven't given him an answer."

"Is there a reason why?" Trin asked, her eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

"I guess a part of me is still holding onto insecurities from my past relationship," I confessed, my voice softening. "It's no fault of Josh's at all."

"I say go for it," Trin encouraged, leaning forward slightly. "I mean, think about it. When was the last time you were actually home?"

I paused, considering her question. I couldn't help but agree; lately, Josh's place had become my de facto home. "Okay, I see your point," I conceded with a small smile. "I guess I will give him my answer this weekend."

The conversation then meandered to other topics, the easy camaraderie between us a comforting constant as we enjoyed the rest of our brunch. Eventually, the telltale buzz of our phones interrupted us, both texts from the boys, expressing how much they missed us.

I looked up at Trin, a knowing smile on my face. "I guess we need to go before they come and drag us out of here."

Trin laughed, nodding in agreement. "That part." We paid the bill, shared another hug, and then went our separate ways, the warmth of our friendship lingering as I headed back to Jey.

Did I get you with the plot twist? 👀

Please leave a comment and reblog! <3

If you would like to read any of my other works, here is my master list. Leave requests on this linked post.

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📓 Taglist: @dollface110-blog , @therealh18 , @skyesthebomb , @moxley99 , @fafomama , @queeny23 , @duhitzkay380 , @xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112 , @theusotwinzcom , @yana3sworld , @baybehkay , @jazzyboo123-blog1 , @uceyliyahh , @transparentphantomface , @bossbitch-25 , @sheaabuttaababyy , @emotionalhottiee , @jeyusosqueen , @pinkwithhearts , @purplementalitybluebird

#jey uso #jey uso x black oc #jey uso smut #jeyuso #jey uso x black fem oc #jey uso x black reader #wwe #main event jey uso #trippiexlove #talks with trips

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invertlyatomicscheme · 2 days ago

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LOA IS REAL

🌼Girlfriend in a coma🌼

━━━━━━。゜🌊.🌺゜。━━━━━━

This is probably a dumb post, like duhh Jacie Los IS real, but I am going to be honest, I know most of us don't fully believe it. Humans (me) in general don't believe anything until they happen to experience the perspective of said situation/thing.

I suppose this could be called a success story. I am one of those humans who didn't believe in myself. Like what do you mean I can just "assume" something happens. What's the logic behind it? At first I was getting irritated with the shifting community "loa, loa, loa" like yes what else? That also is probably a lesson I should take into account. Don't knock it til you try it.

It all took place earlier when I was out with my family running errands, one of those is collecting stock for my mother's business. I decided I was going to give it a try. I started off slow, first doing things that are obvious. For ex; I would see a speed bump coming up and I would say, "I assume I will go over a speed bump" then I would obviously go over one and I would convince myself and essentially build trust in myself.

So, we arrived at the lady my mother collects stock from. The stock she gets is in small little bottles (no it's not drugs it's vitamins💔) I was like okay. I said to myself "I assume 5 bottles will be inside the bag and I remove all doubts" I do admit I got a bit worried for some reason that it wouldnt work and in general was thinking it wouldn't work but I persisted.

My mother finished and got back into the car and I immediately checked the bag... FIVE BOTTLES I KID YOU NOT. Then I was like no way this isn't real must be a coincidence. I was like okay I am going to try again (I ended up trying 2 more times) so we stop at a robot/traffic light.

I say the magic words (LOL) "I assume as we arrive at the light we won't even have to stop and the light will turn green" you wouldnt ever guess what happened next.. It worked!! I was much deeper in belief now and believed I could do more on a higher spectrum.

So we make one final stop on the way home. (Buying sweets for the fam) I decided this was going to be my final try and if this works then it works yk. I said in my head "I assume the price of [insert sweet] will be 15-16 (in my currency this is cheap) and remove all doubt"

It was 15.99!! I probably sound so excited over small victories and this probably isn't huge for most shifters but this really helped with my belief factor. I feel more confident as this has proved and clicked something within me.

Had to share this small yet big detail. Lesson is BELIEVE IN YOURSELF!! Also if your like me and have bad doubts and lack of belief I recommend starting small. Since yes you knew it was going to happen (read that again) You can also prove things to yourself.

That's all I had to sayy, WE all shifting and using loa trust🙏

Ps: trying to figure out my layouts for posting still.

TINY UPDATE:

I assumed my skin would be must clearer in the morning since I broke out a bit because I am edging off my acne meds. (Ifykyk😔) Guess who woke up completely forgetting what she said having a shower only to see her skin has cleared up. This shows you are in control of what you want. I also found my mind was easier to focus and assume since I had been listening to my fame Dr playlist the whole day and my playlist just feels like summer. I was in a good mood! If me of all people is able to use loa trust me you will be able too.

#quantum shifting #shifters #shiftblr #shifting blog #reality shifting #shifting community #spotify #self love #limiting beliefs #loa tumblr #loassumption #loa blog #loablr #cats #dogs

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tytoalbatross · 1 year ago

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god damn i do not post often but can i talk about intentionality for a second?? one second please

i'm gonna be talking about bg3 but this really applies to any fandom space. people will, surface-level, agree that a Black character is not getting enough content compared to their white counterparts because it's. obvious . take wyll, who is several hours behind on voiced lines compared to other origins despite being one of the original five (before they added karlach and whiteified her too but that's another post). it's hard to deny cold hard facts

but then instead of engaging in content that uplifts Black characters and creators, they'll go right back to pumping out more and more content of just their white faves. on its own, it's not actively harmful, but here's what the implication is, whether they acknowledge it or not: yes wyll has less in-game content, yes his writing didn't get the attention it deserved, therefore i don't like him as much. it only perpetuates wyll's lack of content by contributing to his sidelining in fandom spaces

what i would love for fans who claim to be allies to do is to step out of the comfort zone of their initial favorites (which can, in fact, be biased!) and start pursuing content centering Black characters with intentionality. like all things, anti-racism (actively pushing back against racism rather than simply "Not Being Racist") takes practice and effort. you can't really agree with us that wyll needs more content, then in the same breath say that it's because of that that he's not interesting to you . the point was right in front of you doing a jig and you still missed it

#bg3 #wyll #wyll ravengard #this isnt even including people who didnt notice that wyll had less content in the first place #which is. a very damning admission. so you werent paying Any attention to him...? at all....? its obvious even on a first playthrough tf #i had to physically stop myself from saying specific white boy names in the main post bc i knew it would just be fanning the flames #and thats not productive. as much as i hate to admit it.#anyway we all know why halsin is so much more popular than wyll. the white man with as much personality as a cardboard cutout #ITS HARD TO APPRECIATE HIM WHEN HES 1) boring and 2) part of the reason wyll got less content bc adding him meant less time for the others #if people start things in the replies im deleting this post if im being honest. this needed to be said but #i am not in the habit of arguing with strangers on the internet and i am not starting now #tyto speaks #man i didnt even mention how white side characters with maybe 5 min total of screentime get so much fan content .#while wyll a whole ORIGIN character gets left out of party art and either infantilized or villianized beyond the point of recognition

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microwavetoaster-selfships · 1 month ago

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I think I need that "Wow, I haven't stubbed my toe in five months! I was then shot fifty-seven times." Audio again

#i want to put him on my blog because i have a lot to say. and. by golly.is it just too much than anyone needs.#yet another character for me to completely RUIN their ego and make them so much more worse than they already are.#see but i just realized last night that putting him on my blog would mean making a tag for him. And that is goingnto take a lot from me-#-to be putting stupid little hearts next to his name.#i was thinking about just posting like two pictures of him and being like “im not saying anything i think yall can connect the dots.”#but. but.hhhhhrhrhrggrgyryrg.I want to come home and immediately indulge in garbage about him until i go to bed.#This is so messed up!! maybe. maybe I'm just being mind controlled into this.#I'd say sorry for another new guy but i mean I've been doing this the past several months and yall havent known me long enough that-#-it is unexpected so really i suppose yall are here for it.#Depending on how long till i get my first 'task' of the morning at work depends on whether I'll makebthe dumb post about him-#-this morning for everyone to wake up to or later today for everyone to anxiously read like they're reading the news while eating.#It is actually so so so so bad. and i domt know why. i do not understand. i cannot wrap my head around what about him is-#-hitting me so badly. what is making him click. this wasn't even a 'the dam gates got opened' and i had a burst and chilled out.#which i thought what was going to happen. this is. this is like a constant stream of a running waterfall. okay.#Normally talk about particular F/Os with particular people cause blah blah embarassment or they followed me-#-and interacted with me because of a particular character(s) that I like.#but i wan.gh. i want to.ffffffjhhgghhhghhhhhhhhhhhg.d.deep breath.#i want to. talk about him. wherever i can. i like. i want to taint every image there might be of myself to talk about him.#maybe the problem is im trying to find rhyme or reason where there is none. logic and feelings are often two different drivers.#trying to find a 'why' when there is no 'why' to begin with because that would insinuate a cause and effect scenario.#Which is a scientific process and critical thinking thought path. which is brain stuff.#and this is all heart stuff. stupid. stupid heart stuff.#good morniny everyone. wishing you all well on your marry ways.#I NEED TO STOP DEAWING HIM. I've drawn him like fifty freaking times already.#normally itt takes me ages to work up drawing him.#oh fuck it fuck everything im changing my discord pfp im posting about him im going to go need to go into confinement.#i might feel slifhtly different whem i get home but it's fine it's fine i domt need to be scared it's fine.#it's my blog it's my dumb little discord pfp. I've literslly rattled my mouth off to someone about him and they-#-were nothing but a dear about it it's. fine I'm just. grtting in my head about it all.

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quarks-pussy · 2 years ago

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[Images description: Twelve pictures of Star Trek actors. The phrase "thank you for being both amazing actors and amazing people" is written across most of the images one word at a time, except for the two images in the middle. The middle images are of William Shatner, reading "not you!" and Robert Beltran, reading "or you for that matter". The actors in the other images are George Takei, René Auberjonois, DeForest Kelley, Gates McFadden, Wil Wheaton, Kate Mulgrew, Patrick Stewart, Siddig El Fadil (aka Alexander Siddig), Nichelle Nichols and Leonard Nimoy. End image description.]

Non exhaustive list of course. Many more such cases, in fact feel free to add

(insp)

#i considered putting sid's full name in the image description but i felt that might complicate things for screen reader users #but just so it's in the post i'll put it in the tags #siddig el tahir el fadil el siddig abdurrahman mohammed ahmed abdel karim el mahdi #yes i did copy paste it my memory is shit. i can't even remember my own full name...#(i gave myself like five different middle names at one point because if i'm already changing my name for trans reasons i might as well have #fun with it right but eventually i stopped using them because i literally kept forgetting my own name and had to look it up)#(i still have the note btw and since it seems i won't legally be using that last name anyway (nor any of the middle names) feel free to ask #anyway #star trek #not star trek #(schrödinger's post lol)#oh!!! i forgot one version of sid's name!! here goes #صدّيق الطاهر الفاضل الصدّيق عبدالرحمن محمد أحمد عبدالكريم المهدي #to be fair there's nothing in that tag (right now) but i guess i'm a completionist. or something #the others are ofc already findable because of the image description #oh and just fyi if you wanna add others do feel free to add new trek actors. i didn't include any here essentially because as soon as i inc #include one of them people are gonna complain i didn't include more of them. plus i ran out of space. sorry tawny #oh and to that one anon: i WILL still answer but i needed a break lol #original posts fresh from quark's pussy

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chiimeramanticore · 3 months ago

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waow

#before anything else i must warn this is going to be. unorganized thoughts mostly #in the last year or so ive tried to regain confidence that i am in fact plural and am not just faking it #or mistaking other symptoms for DID. shake off the denial y'know. as is so signature for this damn disorder #a diagnosis probably wouldnt even make me feel more sure lol. and also getting diagnosed for this specifically is like #the final boss of psychiatry to put it lightly lol #but when it quiets down in headspace ur always gonna feel like. maybe its over. whatever that was #it was just me and brandy for a while #but guess who had a godawful night and then a godawful morning and split a new alter ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥#he hates it here! he might hate me for creating him! im not sure !#hell im not even rly sure if im juno or brandy rn lol. my mind is just so messy today #i woke up.. when did i wake up. like 9:30 i think and its 1pm now and i haven't gotten out of bed #i don't even remember all that time passing . i couldve sworn its only been like an hour. two at most #on the one hand this has all been kinda terrible and mentally exhausting but at the same time. hey cant say im faking now LMAO #the other hand is brandy. the other hand is absolutely brandy. i am tired lol #im only posting this here so i can just like. process it i guess #ive had a weird time finding an outlet to just spew random thoughts into since leaving twitter so. sorry #idk if anyone's expecting this of me but i always kinda feel like i need some level of professionalism on this account #keyword some. i know this is tumblr #but idk if these very open posts are. annoying? weird? uncomfortable? entertaining somehow?#i know I know theres no point in worrying abt how others percieve you . knowing that hasnt stopped me from doing it lol #i dont remember where i was going w this. maybe i didnt have a goal in the first place #idk if you read this far i dont rly need u to act like u didnt see it cuz like. wouldnt have posted it otherwise #but idk why i am posting. idk what i want out of anyone who has read all this #maybe just. interact w this post in some way idk. it's actually kinda grounding for me if you can believe it #bleghh im thinkin of cheating on my weed break just to treat myself after all this. weed + a long walk would fix me

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seventh-district · 3 days ago

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not even gonna try to contain this vent post within the tags bc i can just feel that i'm gonna yap

for the first time in a very long time, i'm watching an old video of me, age 13, playing with my dog on the kitchen floor. and i can barely handle the envious sight of how absolutely free i was. like, i know i've rewatched this video at a few other points in time in the nearly 12 years since i recorded it, but i've never really watched the full thing, paying as much attention as possible to every single detail.

i initially dug it up the other night because it's one of the only videos i have of Sassy on my current phone, and i wanted to.. see her again. but while i was analyzing every frame of the 3min video trying to drag as much of her memory out of the past as i possibly could, it dawned on me in a way it never has before just how unbelievably free i was behaving.

i was on the floor. touching it, sitting on it, putting my hands down on it and then (to my current self's horror and disgust) putting them on my cheeks, touching my face. i sat my drink down on the floor next to me. i picked Sassy up over and over again and then touched my face and drink and then i picked her up again and actually put my mouth on the top of her head to give her a little kiss. i did all of it without a second thought. it obviously came so naturally to me. i was moving around, interacting with the world around me in such an unbelievably normal way that i barely even recognize myself. and i was doing everything so quickly, too. i had energy. i moved (what seems to me now as) recklessly (though to a normal person it is probably just. normally.) and i just touched anything and did anything and. there weren't any consequences. it was fine.

that was roughly 1.5 years before Sassy dropped dead with zero warning and zero explanation and i developed severe OCD.

my memory is too far gone for me to figure out if the two events were cause-and-effect, or simply happened to take place around the same time in my life. it's not like i kept any sort of detailed log of my developing symptoms so i don't know if i'll ever be sure.

regardless, all i can focus on is how nowadays i wouldn't be able to do any of that. nothing aside from my shoes can come into contact with the floor. and i cannot come into direct skin contact with my shoes. if i find myself in a situation where i have to sit on the floor, as soon as i can get up, i have to remove all clothes that touched it and put them in the dirty laundry, and wash my hands, and if i had to touch my phone after touching the floor, i have to disinfect it. i will under no circumstances touch my face after contacting the floor until my hands are washed. i cannot touch or pet or hold either of my pets without washing my hands and preferably removing whatever clothing they came into contact with.

they are not allowed in my room nor my bed. Sassy slept in my bed with me every night. i never put my mouth on their fur to give them a kiss. i gave Sassy head kisses without a thought. they are not allowed to lick me. i used to find another one of my past dog's 'kisses' on my hands to be very endearing and unproblematic. now if it happens i have to wash it off immediately. anything that gets touched between my hands contacting either pet and being washed, i have to disinfect it.

i mean it with my entire fucking heart and soul when i say that OCD is an insidious disorder. having lived with it for a decade now, i couldn't be more aware of this. but, therein lies the exact point i'm trying to make. in spite of knowing that it has wormed it's way into every single aspect of my life, brain, and personality, it's entire nature is defined by the fact that it will do so, and it'll do it in such a way that the disordered mindset becomes your new normal. it had managed to completely overwrite a lot of my pre-disorder memories of how i used to... operate in the world around me. it has entirely altered the way i do every. single. thing. to the point where i just can't even fathom how it used to be any different. if i didn't have videos like this one to serve as proof that things did used to be different, i wouldn't have any basis for what my "normal" ever even was. it robbed me of those memories entirely.

let's fish one example out of the thousands of different ones i've got siting around: i've spent years trying to figure out how i used to take a shower that didn't take me an entire hour. i have no video of something like that obviously, so it just feels like.. like when i try to envision how i used to bathe myself it literally just goes black in my brain. there's no memory or mental images left in there. i can't fathom it. i mush have just been walking around halfway clean. i don't know. i don't understand how anyone can take a "quick" shower and get out feeling clean. my brain just absolutely cannot grasp it because the OCD is all that's left. it snuck in and completely rewrote the code of who i am and how my brain functions and how i perceive the world and i am never going to get my old self back. no amount of medication or therapy can truly, fully undo the damage it's done to my mind and body.

i mean. i have learned to live with it, barely. i wouldn't really call what i do 'living' but i am. surviving. and some of my obsessions and compulsions have the tendency to fade in and out over time, so i've been able to CBT myself out of some of the most disabling ones. showers take 1 hour now instead of 1.5 to 2.

i can read normally again now, after that period of time around uhh 2018 i think where i could barely read since i had to count the letters of every single word i saw. that was a pretty miserable time and i eventually forced myself mostly out of it. but i still slip back into it when i'm exceptionally stressed, which makes written communication difficult. but it's not like you can just explain that to people and expect them to believe you. but the uh. idk what to call it. OCD cranked the pattern-seeking part of my brain up so far that the metaphorical knob broke off and so the uh. like. the ability for me to notice which words have what amount of letters is always there, i'm just good at overriding it now. that's what 'learning to live with OCD' is like for me. the tracks that it carves into my brain never go away, i just get better at overriding them. but certain stupid little rules never really leave you, like if i'm lengthening a word like turning 'no' into 'noooooo' or 'holy' into 'hooooly' then the new lengthened form of the word has to have a 'good' number of letters like 3 or 7 or whatever my brain deems fit.

i can sit small objects down now without compulsively checking that the surface i'm about to sit them on is clean. ...most of the time. that got really annoying but also embarrassing to be seen doing it. having to re-wipe the counter down every time i'd pick up my water bottle and put it back down. trying to do Anything in the kitchen was an absolute nightmare. and yeah it still takes me a long time to cook anything, and there's countless other compulsions that make me dread the kitchen, and yeah i still can't sit large objects down without thoroughly inspecting the surface below them, and. sigh. there's no making this one sound like it's much improved at all. cause it hasn't

at least the compulsion to re-live and commit to memory every possible detail of my dreams immediately upon waking has left me. that's one rare example of a compulsion that has totally left instead of just adapting to be less intrusive. it was so miserable laying there for ages every morning trying to force any shred of memory out of my dreams and then panicking when i oftentimes couldn't remember anything.

anyways. i could and would have to write a literal book to fit in even half of all the examples of every single compulsion i've ever had in the last 10 years. most of them are still with me. some of them are very.. evolved, but most of them are still with me in one form or another. there isn't a single aspect of the way that i interact with the world around me that isn't heavily influenced by my OCD.

i don't expect to ever get to be that 13y/o kid again. and even back then, i was far from neurotypical. mental things were already starting to spiral for me around 11 or so. but none of my other (numerous) illnesses hold a candle to the disabling effect that OCD had and has on me. it's one of the WHO's top 10 most debilitating illnesses in the world, physical health issues included. i think i heard it ranked at #7, ironically enough. that stat might not still be accurate but i can't help but constantly want to quote it because i think one of the most tortuous aspects of OCD is the inability of those who don't have it to truly grasp how much you're struggling. how bad it is. it's taken so unseriously by the majority of those who don't have it, that trying to get across to someone how much you're struggling feels like this constant uphill battle that you never asked to fight.

one of the most difficult things for me to live with is the knowledge that most people just aren't going to understand. or believe me. and feeling unseen while suffering through immense pain is just. it's maddening. and dealing with that exact issue of struggling so much, both in physical sorts of pain and with mental illnesses, and having everyone around me never take it seriously enough.. it has been such a prevalent part of my life for so long that it just. it's slowly driving me fucking insane lol. not to be dramatic. i know i've got a relatively easy life. but there is always gonna be this invisible, bleeding wound on my soul that gets torn open a little wider every time i have to look someone in the eye and try, exhaustedly, to explain the absolute dumpster fire shitshow that i have to live with in my brain 24/7, only to get some fuckass excuse of a response like 'haha yeah i know what you mean! i'm a little OCD too!' and they just like. like seeing things organized neatly and sometimes experience a passing worry that they left the stove on.

and i just wanna say that 'we are playing life on two very different difficulty levels and i don't think i'll ever be able to get that across to you' but no i have to be nice and downplay it and get along bc it's just not worth it. i'm so fucking tired. OCD is exhausting enough to live with, let alone trying to educate other people on it.

maybe one day ill post that stupid excuse of a poem i wrote regarding my frustration with that exact experience.

but like i said, i don't ever expect this to go away. medication only treats the symptoms and i can only force myself to suffer through so much CBT. this will be with me forever, in a significant capacity. i just hope that before i die, i'll get to know what it's like to have someone look me in the eye and understand. not necessarily from personal experience, but to at least know me well enough to be able to understand how serious i am when i say that OCD ruined my life.

but it might turn out that the only place i'll be able to find that level of understanding and acceptance, is when i look in the mirror.

that might just have to be enough.

#vent post #Seven's Public Diary #ocd #pet death mention #if anyone reads any of this and is getting ready to suggest something to 'help' with my OCD or try and give me advice-#let me just stop ya right there chief and save us both the trouble bc like i appreciate the gesture but that's not what this post is for #i am more intimately familiar with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder than anything else on planet earth. it has consumed me from the #inside out and lives within me like some kinda fucked up symbiote except i don't get any cool morphing powers i'm just insane now #that's probably a shit metaphor but whatever i'm tired. my point is just. don't even bother. just ignore me please thank u #this post isn't me looking for help or anything i am simply analyzing myself and narrating it to my public diary. nothing more. /gen #anyways hoo boy! this was meant to be much more of a run-of-the-mill vent post but i guess i had a Topic to discuss tonight #there's a lot of other topics i was gonna touch on but i have used up all my time and energy just yapping abt ocd so i guess i'll just #keep the rest to myself lmao. idk. that's probably for the best anyway. i need to vent less on here. and in general.#mmmmkay it's way too late for me to still be awake. these days if i stay up past 10pm i just spiral into misery and wanna get drunk #and that urge is getting Concerningly strong these past few late nights i've had. so i really have to start forcing myself into bed by 10 #preferably earlier than that. i've set my phone to go into sleep mode at 8pm lately and so should i tbh.#i'm just not stable at night anymore. hence why i'm sat here writing an autobiography on my ocd at 1am on a wednesday #still better than staying up until 8am last night doomscrolling twitter and debating on how high of an abv% i'd be willing to drink #i just gotta go back to shutting the entire world out once the sun sets. selfish as it is. for the sake of my fragile sanity.

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